Broken Blades Don't Sing (Tales of Ashkar Book One) (26 page)

One of the guards up on the tower on the right
peered down at them before signaling to someone on the opposite
side of the wall. After a brief pause, the gate first rumbled, then
rose slowly. Several moments later, the gate was fully raised and
exposed the inner sanctum of their new prison. Raxxil felt the
glaring eyes of countless guards boring into him.

Up ahead, Sanjin waved her hand and motioned for
the group to enter. With one last nudge they trudged to their
doom.

---

"Haven't seen any sign of them", said Aramal out
loud. "I suppose you were right about those other guys meddling.
Maybe they finished those elementalists?"

The sound of hissing invaded his ears.

"Do not be so foolish as to underestimate your
enemies", stung Orbo. "You are much too weakened to retaliate at
this point."

For once, the demon was right. Aramal stopped.
Demon... He sighed. Monsters, demons, angels, and elementals—all
stories he had thought were just fairy tales. After discovering he
was an elementalist himself, his eyes had opened. That was a long,
long time ago, and, somehow, the demon had been able to possess his
sword, effectively severing his connection with his original
partner. Aramal didn't really like the elemental anyway. He looked
up at the sky.

If God allows such evil to corrupt the world,
what hope do we have?

He was never really one to put much faith in
something beyond his own life, but there was a Hell. He had proof
of that. A lot of it, in fact. If there was a Hell, then surely
there was a Heaven? The dark-haired staff-wielder in the tavern
spoke about hope. Witnessing the darkness that enveloped Ashkar,
how could that man still preach of such a thing?

"Your thoughts betray you", scalded the demon,
"There was never any hope to begin with. Now cease your incessant
daydreaming and make haste to our go—"

"Your goal", interrupted Aramal. "This is all
your
doing. I’m just along for the ride."

He heard a sinister laugh that shook him like
the sound of shattering glass. "Then why continue as my
vessel?"

Aramal trudged on without moving his lips.

Chapter 16

???

"So what's the plan now, genius?" remarked
Raxxil, hands still bound in the specialized chains.

The three of them were led through the maze that
was Enept-Ihs. It was structured in a way that the king's palace
was elevated on the highest plain and situated in its heart, with
barracks and other militaristic structures surrounding it. Below
was the middle level, dedicated to markets for commodities and
other services. The last level, at the bottom, was dedicated to the
commonfolk and residential areas.

They passed through a marketplace on their way
up to the military compound, where they were welcomed into the
kingdom's hospitable dungeon, with equally accommodating cells
equipped with iron bars—just in case they had the urge to step
outside for some fresh air.

The prison was built underground, consisting of
multiple complexes of cells. The only light emanated from the
flickering braziers that lined the cold, rough walls. In here, time
was non-existent. Raxxil's very world was now a tiny box, with
well-equipped guards keeping watchful gazes just outside the bars.
On their way to their cell, Raxxil noticed countless of
incarcerated criminals. Some of them wailed obscenities at the
newcomers, while others were silent with curious looks.

It felt as if they had been locked up for nearly
a month, but it was hard to tell without the ability to watch the
moon fill and fade.

"Do not be so callous as to alert the guards",
whispered Serraemas softly. He sat on their only bed, if one could
call it that. It was shoddily carved and constructed out of wood,
and their generous captors had even provided an extra-itchy blanket
and hard pillow. Regardless, the bed was too small to fit either
Raxxil or Erendil, the latter of which preferred the darkest corner
away from everyone else.

"To what?" shot Raxxil as he walked over to the
bed. "Your master plan of escape from Makka's paragon of lawful
justice?" He plopped down onto the shoddy bed next to
Serraemas—

His landing was too harsh, and the frame
collapsed, crashing the two elementalists onto the cold, hard
floor. Next to him, Raxxil saw his partner shake his head and
sigh.

The thunderous crash had alarmed the armored
soldiers outside. Without fail, the sound of weapons being
unsheathed echoed down the halls. Just as quickly, however, they
were sheathed again, and laughter echoed instead.

"And I thought the lizard was the dumb one",
said one guard to another as they continued in annoying
chuckle.

Oh, I'll be the one laughing very, very
soon.

Raxxil raised his bound hands up to Serraemas’s
face and jangled the chains. "Forgot about these?"

"You'll understand..." muttered Serraemas. “In
time.”

Raxxil sat back and breathed deeply. "You know
what I would do if anything happened to Tanaria, right?”

Serraemas shot him a cursory glance.
"Unfortunately, I know exactly what you would do."

"BURN IT ALL!" shouted Vrand inside Raxxil's
mind.

"You're damn right I would", responded Raxxil
with a grin. "I would raze this whole kingdom."

Serraemas remained silent, and hardly a sound
pierced the air for a while save for the occasional murmur or cough
that echoed down the fire-lit halls.

Bored of his partner's lack of interaction,
Raxxil lifted himself off the floor and walked to the other side of
the cell, where, much to his chagrin, he was met with similar
treatment.

The lizard-man sat with his back against the
wall and his head down in what seemed to be an effort to shut off
the physical world. For nearly a minute, Raxxil examined the stone
statue that had once been a blind, yet overwhelmingly curious,
towrth archer. Erendil had not acknowledged anyone, or anything,
since withdrawing into himself. No, the lifeless husk was no longer
the eccentric lizard-man he had gotten to know, yet Serraemas
seemed indifferent to such a radical transformation.

Raxxil inched closer and tapped the towrth
gently with his foot in an attempt to rouse the quiet bowman.

Erendil rocked back-and-forth slightly, but
still did not acknowledge Raxxil's presence nor his efforts. The
only indicator that the green-skin even lived was his steady
breaths, and the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest
thereof.

Raxxil grumbled in discontent. "Alright, joke's
over. We haven't the time to mess around." This time, Raxxil kicked
the lizard-man fairly hard and sent him hurtling into the wall—

A scaly hand shot up to the wall, steadying the
moving body. Erendil's head rose to regard Raxxil, his lips curling
into a slight sneer. Raxxil thought the gaze could melt iron.

"What do you want?" croaked a familiar but
slightly warped voice. Raxxil couldn't tell if it was because the
lizard-man had not spoken for a while that his voice cracked, or
something else entirely.

Raxxil returned a stern expression. "What the
hell is wrong with you?"

Erendil let loose a laugh, as if amused by the
question—a laugh Raxxil had never heard echo from the lizard-man's
mouth. It was a cruel laugh, mocking Raxxil. Mocking him like an
aristocrat does to a peasant, or a scholar does to an ignorant and
narrow-minded student.

"Fools..." muttered this strange, new persona
absentmindedly without answering Raxxil's question.

Irritated, Raxxil glared at the towrth with eyes
of fire. He mulled over how best to proceed, but couldn’t come up
with a better course of action then knocking Erendil silly.

"His elemental must be the source", whispered a
voice in his ear, interrupting his thoughts.

Raxxil looked over his shoulder and regarded
Serraemas, who stood right behind him. He hadn't noticed the other
human slip next to him even though they were all bound by chains.
He should have heard Serraemas from a mile away.

Raxxil frowned. "So it's one of those, huh?"

"Perhaps that is why Sora sealed the elemental
in the first place", Serraemas whispered again calmly.

Raxxil looked back at Erendil. The lizard-man
had returned to his unmoving position, uninterested in their
conversation.

"Well, I suppose I'm not too surprised",
responded Raxxil. "Dark elementals can be twisted and terrible.
Even Vrand can be—well… you know."

Serraemas nodded, but said nothing further.

Raxxil looked down at his chained hands. "What
are we going to do about it? We're not exactly in the position to
focus on something like this."

"Exactly", murmured Serraemas. "We don't have
the luxury, so we will lend our efforts to the task at hand."

Raxxil chuckled as he pointed first to their
shackles, then at the walls of the cell, and finally at the guards
that roamed the halls just outside the metal bars. Still, his
efforts failed to garner much more than a shrug.

“Patience”, reiterated Serraemas, shifty with
his words.

"Oh, really?" whispered Raxxil cynically. "You
have yet to divulge this master plan, remember? How about you let
me in on it before I start banging my head on that wall over there
in anticipation.”

At this point, he wasn’t even expecting
Serraemas to answer. Instead, he focused his gaze down at his
cuffs. Even before attempting the suicide mission, whatever it was,
they would need to remove the cuffs that inhibited their abilities.
After that remained actually fleeing in one piece through the
entire force of the kingdom—which happened to include the Blue
Swords. He would love the fight, but he also was no fool. Given
that his wounds were still healing, and alongside a warped and
deeply troubled towrth, and, of course, Tanaria as both distraction
and liability, there was no shortage of variables. Only Serraemas
was unscathed and capable of fighting at his full strength, but was
that enough still?

Serraemas shook his head, probably noticing
Raxxil in pensive thought. "I told you to be patient."

Raxxil sighed. "Yeah, yeah. You've said that a
thousand—"

Suddenly, the faint sound of plate boots
striking ground echoed throughout the halls, capturing Raxxil's
attention. They grew louder and louder, each strike of heel on
stone penetrating the quiet air. Almost as if synchronized, murmurs
and whispers grew louder until they became excited shouts and
obscenities.

Raxxil turned around and regarded the soldiers
on the opposite side of the metal bars. They were looking in the
direction of the approaching footsteps, and metal clanked as both
of them bowed graciously at this mysterious person. Straightening,
one of the guards turned toward Raxxil. Though the man's plate helm
covered most of his face, Raxxil swore he saw a leer directed at
him.

A few moments later, the visage of their captor
came into view. She wore the same uniform of silver plate and blue
vestment, though her helm and weapon were missing. The woman's
braided black hair fell down her right side, flowing until just
below her armored chest. Yellow orbs stared at him, but held no
contempt like the other guards. There was a different air about
her, as if she viewed them not as criminals but unruly children,
the way one does when viewing someone else’s offspring act in a
manner that was frowned upon. Hers was a face mixed with pity and
disapproval, like she expected more from them. At least, that's
what Raxxil thought that was.

The woman known as Sanjin perused the three of
them briefly. "Your trial begins now."

---

"Judge Bane, eh?" whispered Raxxil to Serraemas
as the former pointed with both hands still shackled at the elderly
man in black robes. The judge sat behind a wooden desk atop an
elevated platform. "Looks like time is
his
bane."

The judge sat at the end of the room that served
as what was called a courtroom, facing the rest. The old man placed
his fist on his bearded cheek, and looked unamused while people
filed into the room.

A few feet in front of the judge's platform were
two desks, one where Serraemas and the others sat with the man
appointed to defend them. At the other table sat several people
that were tasked in making sure that they paid for their crimes.
The far right of the room was dedicated to the Blue Swords, though
they did not have a direct role in the trial. At the far left was
an area that appeared to be reserved for another group of people
separate from the spectators behind him. To the right and left of
their table stood two guards, just in case the prisoners had any
bold plans.

Behind where Serraemas sat were rows of seats
for those that were also not part of the trial but wished to
spectate. Commonfolk mostly, but some soldiers were among them.
Lastly, to the left of the judge was another platform reserved for
what he assumed were witnesses. Serraemas wondered who they would
use, for he hadn't left many chances for anyone to witness his
efforts and stay alive.