Echoes Of A Gloried Past (Book 2) (27 page)

Aaron seized the rune-carved staff and jumped in the opposite direction. As his feet left the tower of the Elite, the fires of an explosion rose from the bottom of the tower. Aaron turned in mid-air and watched as the tower of the Elite collapsed in on itself. Where there were once two dark towers now only one remained.

C
HAPTER
18

ESCAPE

THEY emerged from the tower and found the grounds of the Citadel in complete disarray. The old Elitesman Isaac, as good as his word, had delivered them from the tower. The night air was cool and carried the acrid smoke from the fires. Verona’s eyes darted around fearing, that the Elitesmen would know of their escape, but they were swallowed up with everyone else fleeing the towers.

“Hurry,” Gavril said.

Verona nodded. Gavril had whispered to him earlier that Tanneth was watching over their escape. He glanced up at the bright flashes of light from the top of the tower across the grounds. Braden had retracted his Shandarian shield, but kept his hammer out. Verona wondered how Braden had come by the hammer. The Elitesmen were gathering on the far side of the Citadel grounds where most of the order had been restored. Isaac abruptly changed paths making a line toward the gates nearest to them. 

A figure in black appeared before them in a flash of light and was joined by two Elitesmen, their eyes burning red clad in silver cloaks. Verona recognized the Grand Master of the Elite. His eyes narrowed upon them and flashed in surprise when his gaze fell upon Isaac.

“You!” the Grand Master of the Elite hissed.

“Gerric,” Isaac answered.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” the Grand Master said.

“You’ve run the order into the ground, Gerric,” Isaac said. “I’m here to set things right.”

The Grand Master of the Elite snorted in disbelief. “You cannot hope to stand against us.”

Isaac laughed. “Maybe not, but I think just knowing that there are former Elitesmen like me that stand against you is enough to rattle even your cages and those of your lap dogs,” Isaac said and plunged his hands into his leather duster then threw something at the ground. There was a small flash then smoke billowed up at the Elitesmen’s feet.

Verona grabbed Roselyn’s hand and pushed her toward the exit. She was followed by Sarik and Braden. Gavril brought up the rear, firing golden bolts into the smoke. They were joined by Nolan and Isaac. A loud shriek came from behind them, and Isaac drew his sword.

Verona looked back at Isaac then drew his own sword.

“No,” Isaac said. “Tell the Shandarian that there are more Elite of the old code who don’t hold with these ideals.”

“We can fight with you,” Verona said.

Isaac looked around at the grounds of the Elite in disgust. There were young initiates running to escape the fires. Some initiates helped their brethren while others used the disarray as an excuse to strike.

“Fight for
them
,” Isaac said gesturing toward the initiates of the Elite, and smoke swallowed him up as he leaped through.

An explosion rocked the ground beneath their feet as the far tower began to collapse to the ground.

“Run!” Gavril shouted.

The Citadel gates burst forth as a mass of people fled for their lives. Roselyn’s hand found his and gave him a gentle squeeze as they lost themselves in the crowd. They had escaped. Verona glanced back at the Citadel. The smoke and dust that billowed into the air was overshadowed by the screams of those within who hadn’t escaped in time.

Captain Nolan guided them through the streets leading them away from the chaos. Verona had managed to get the attention of the fleeing Initiates who were all too happy to have escaped the Citadel. They were young, barely more than boys and girls and hadn’t been inducted into the Elitesmen Order yet. Nolan sent them onward with some of his guards that they had met up with.

Verona frowned, scanning the faces of the men with them. “Where is Eric?" he asked.

Braden shook his head grimly, which was reply enough.

Verona swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing that Eric had died last night when they were taken prisoner. He gripped Braden’s shoulder firmly and shared the promised look of grim resolution. The destruction around them was a cold recompense for the lives lost, both the nameless innocent and those of friends and brothers. He hated the Elitesmen, but through Isaac’s sacrifice he grudgingly admitted to himself that they were not all the same. He hoped that Isaac did find a way to survive his encounter with the Grand Master. Hoping for the survival of any Elitesmen still left him with a bitter aftertaste. Too much of what that order had done to the people of this world could not be swept away.

Captain Nolan brought them to an abandoned building where they were met by Anson along with other members of the Resistance. Anson reported a resounding victory with none of their number being captured or killed. 

“Has there been any word from Aaron?” Verona asked.

“Not yet, my Lord,” Lieutenant Anson answered.

Verona nodded and wanted to be out there looking for his friend, but knew that staying in one place was the wise choice, at least for the moment. “You must prepare for retribution from the High King and the Elitesmen,” Verona said.

“We are prepared to fight,” Anson said. “The rumor throughout the city is that a dragon appeared at the arena. When your friend crashes a party, he doesn’t go halfway.”

“I’m still concerned for the Resistance, and if the fight becomes too much, you should head to Rexel,” Verona said.

Captain Nolan frowned. “Why Rexel?”

Gavril cleared his throat joining them. “Please, Verona, allow me to share what we know.” 

Verona nodded, and Gavril proceeded to tell them of the barrier between worlds in Shandara and the invading army waiting on the other side. Gavril was able to quell most skeptics with a few displays of the Hythariam comms device and a demonstration of something he called a plasma pistol. 

“According to Aaron, the barrier between worlds is failing, and it is only a matter of time before the armies of the former Hythariam military pour through,” Gavril said. “We had hoped that our home would be destroyed and would take care of the military faction that was bent on conquering the people of Safanar, but they must have found a way to survive.”

“Was the beacon of light we had reports on throughout the city from the heir of Alenzar’seth?” someone from the crowd asked.

Verona stepped up. “Yes,” he answered.

Captain Nolan and Anson shared a look. “Thank you for telling us these things. I will circulate this information throughout the Resistance here and decide what to do going forward. I can’t commit either way. Khamearra has become our home for many of us, and some will be reluctant to leave. What started off as vengeance of the De’anjard has grown.”

Verona nodded in understanding. “Don’t take too long, as time is growing short.”

Gavril continued to answer questions, and Lieutenant Anson stepped away to check whether Aaron had showed up at any of the designated meeting points they had agreed on earlier.

Somewhere during the discussion, Verona noticed Roselyn sitting off to the side, working intently on a chrome cylinder at a small table. She looked up and smiled at him as he approached. She was still shaken, he could tell, and so was he if truth be told.

“My Lady, you don’t waste any time,” Verona said.

Roselyn nodded, turning back to the cylinder. “This is something that Aaron asked me to look at.”

“What is it?” Verona asked.

“This is what enabled Aaron to travel from Earth to Safanar,” Roselyn said.

Verona frowned. Earth was where Aaron had called home until coming to Safanar. His friend had told him of the place, but try as he might, it was difficult to imagine. Looking at the small device in Roselyn’s hands, it amazed him that such a thing was possible, even knowing what he knew.

“I’m updating some of its functions,” Roselyn said vaguely.

Verona smirked. “Aaron seeks to protect us, all it seems.”

Roselyn eyed him with a raised eyebrow. “Do you know what he intends?”

Verona pursed his lips in thought. “Not exactly, but the question really is what wouldn’t he do, and I feel the answers lie in that.”

Roselyn’s eyes narrowed. “Are all men so bullheaded that they must act alone when there are people able to help them?”

Verona shrugged his shoulders. “Sometimes, the occasion calls for it,” he said and suppressed a smile as she muttered a curse under her breath. “It’s okay to take a moment for yourself, my Lady.”

Roselyn’s hands shook as she held the cylinder. “I can’t … ”

Verona sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him, shaking. 

“I can’t get it out of my head,” Roselyn said. “I can’t get
him
out of my head.”

Verona gently rubbed her shoulders and knew exactly what she meant. They were free from the Elitesman Sevan, but the gruesome acts of torture lingered in the back of their minds.

“I know,” Verona said. “I … I just … ” He couldn’t get the words out, and they both took comfort in the other’s embrace.

After a few moments, they released each other despite neither of them being able to find the words. Roselyn resumed her work on the chrome cylinder, which she called the keystone accelerator, and Verona stayed by her side. They were soon joined by the others, although Braden sat off to the side, keeping careful watch even though they were with the Resistance. Within an hour, Anson brought word that they had found Aaron. They gathered their things and set off, heading for another hideout to meet up with his friend. Verona just wanted to leave and put as much distance between himself and the capital city of Khamearra as possible. He fully supported their reasons for being here and at the same time he wanted it to just be over.

Captain Nolan supplied them with cloaks and uniforms of the guards so they could move throughout the city easily. That was the plan, anyway. Verona replaced his sword. He was only too happy to be rid of the Elitesmen’s blade he was carrying. Both he and Sarik carried bows and a full quiver of arrows. He still didn’t see Tanneth, but Gavril assured him that the Hythariam was still out there and would help watch over them as they traversed the city.

 ***

Aaron rested upon the rooftop of a shop in this district’s market square. The remaining tower of the Citadel of the Elite was a good distance behind him. Things were quiet for the moment, and the smell of smoke was thinning. The wound on his side ached, and he bit back a groan as he removed his cloak and shirt. He scooped some water from a metal bucket on the rooftop and washed the sword slice down his side. The wound was deep, and Aaron worked to steady his breathing, allowing his mind to focus. He reached out to the energy in the staff, and the runes flared dully. He drew it in, speeding up what his body would do naturally if he had been stitched up and bedridden for weeks. The pain faded to a dull ache until the angry pink scar faded away on his skin. He had been lucky. One lesson he learned from his encounter with the Ryakul was that the ability to concentrate and focus was essential to working with the energy. If he couldn’t focus then he would die just like anyone else. He rolled his shoulders, remembering the hot pain down his back as the Ryakuls tore at his flesh. He shook off the memory and put his shirt back on as he took in his surroundings. He was looking for a small shop with the emblem of a tree with clawed roots carved into the door. The subtle references to Shandara that could be found throughout the city of Khamearra amazed him. The Resistance had used pieces from the Alenzar’seth coat of arms as their markings throughout the city. Nothing so bold as the complete picture, but pieces that were just enough to give those who knew what to look for the information they sought to find the Resistance. It was the arrogance of the Elitesmen that allowed for their enemy to dwell among them. Aaron wondered if the irony would be lost upon them as perhaps arrogance played its part in the destruction of Shandara. 

Aaron’s mind drifted to a history class he had in college, where the teacher pontificated that a smart enemy would strike where you thought you are safe. Mactar and the High King had used this tactic to bring about the destruction of Shandara and here Aaron was, instrumental in doing the same to the Elitesmen Order. He knew the Elite Order was not destroyed, but tonight’s events had certainly put them off balance just as the High King had put him off balance. His jaw clenched at the High King’s dismissal of his daughter, but his mind refused to accept that a father could so easily disregard that their child was in danger, even if that father was the High King. There were things that just didn’t add up where Sarah and her father were concerned, and regardless of his understanding, Aaron would move forward with his own plans. He shook his head in frustration and glanced up at the night sky. Except for the faint orange glow, the night was dark, as the moons were still rising. His hand absently rubbed the medallion under his shirt, and he recalled the image of the beacon of light shooting into the sky over the arena. The dragon referred to himself as the Eldarin. Aaron pressed his lips together in thought. How would he seek out the Eldarin? He had no idea where they were, but knew they were the natural enemies of the Ryakuls. Aaron shook his head and lifted his backpack that was stuffed full of purple travel crystals. He needed to rejoin the others then find Sarah. The Eldarin would have to wait. If his faint connection to Sarah were any indication, it was that time was indeed growing short before the woman he loved was gone forever. His grandfather’s haunted eyes flashed before him like a silent prophecy of what would happen to him if he failed. Reymius couldn’t have known what became of his grandmother, Cassandra, but Aaron
did
know and he would not condemn the woman he loved to the cruel prison of the Nanites.

Aaron snatched the rune-carved staff off the ground and crept along the rooftops, searching for the shop that bore the emblem of a tree with a clawed foot hidden amid its roots. He expanded his search and found the mark upon the door of a shop along one of the side streets away from the main market square. The shop was dark, and Aaron watched silently. The minutes dragged on, but his patience paid off as he saw shadows move from within the shop. Someone was home even if the lights were not on.