Echoes Of A Gloried Past (Book 2) (4 page)

The palace of the High King loomed ever closer, and the twin tower of the Elite stood on the far side of the city. The capital city of Khamearra was truly a sight to behold. The busy traffic of airships dotted the sky, and the construction of a bustling city could be heard below. Mactar preferred to have a few moments to himself prior to facing the wrath of High King Amorak when he learned of the death of his son. Primus was such a fool, he allowed petty rivalry to poison his mind. It was never part of his plan to kill Sarah, but he supposed her betrayal by aligning with the Alenzar’seth had pushed Primus over the edge. Rordan, he noted, hadn’t spoken of it. 

“My Lord,” Darven spoke quietly. “It is time.”

Mactar turned to his loyal companion, “Indeed it is.”

Darven’s eyes narrowed, “Is there cause for concern? Perhaps we should wait before meeting with the High King?”

Mactar smirked. Darven didn’t understand his relationship with High King Amorak. For all Amorak’s talk of killing him, there was no escaping the fact that Amorak needed him, which wasn’t about to change anytime soon. 

“No,” Mactar said. “It would be unwise to keep him waiting. Now the fun begins.” For all intents and purposes, Darven was his apprentice, but he still had much to learn. The vehemence with which Reymius’s heir had singled out Darven was another matter to consider. That was yet another tool at his disposal. A worthy adversary indeed this Alenzar’seth, Aaron, turned out to be. 

They were joined on deck of the High King’s airship by the remaining Elitesmen and Rordan. They withdrew their travel crystals and activated them. Teleporting with crystals was much like having the ground pulled abruptly away, only to be plunged into darkness and then emerge upon the other side. 

They landed in the Great Hall of the High King’s palace to the immediate hush of all those in attendance. Mactar preferred to make an entrance. The High King, perched on his throne, regarded them coolly as he narrowed his eyes. Amorak rose from his throne and was before his son in an instant, but Rordan wouldn’t meet his father’s gaze.

“Where is your brother?" the High King asked.

Rordan looked up at his father, his chin trembling. “He is dead,” Rordan whispered.

The High King’s eyes darted to Mactar. 

“It is true. He was killed by the Alenzar’seth,” Mactar said.

“Is that what you call it?” Rordan said shakily, his eyes growing distant. “There was no honor in doing battle with someone that can’t be beaten. No one can move as fast as he. This Aaron, scion of Alenzar’seth, is a match for any Elitesmen. Primus never stood a chance. If I had faced him, Father, you would have two dead sons instead of just one,” Rordan said, hanging his head low in shame.

The High King said nothing, but the air grew colder around him.

“He is Ferasdiam Marked, my Lord,” Mactar said. “Like you.”

The High King nodded and stuck his hand out, gently raising Rordan’s head. “This is not your failing, Son. I have sent you out there ill prepared. Something I can remedy.”

Rordan’s tear-stricken eyes burned with a cold anger, “There is something else, Sarah stands with the Alenzar’seth. She fought by his side.”

The High King remained motionless for a few moments, allowing the silence to gather. Mactar felt a torrent of energy gather itself then suddenly the High King lashed out, surprising the Elitesmen. He struck down the Elite Masters who had failed him. Though the High King was unarmed, they were no match. The High King moved with the blurring speed of a shooting star, and the blood of the Elitesmen gushed forth onto the pristine floors of the Great Hall. Amid the carnage, the High King’s body glowed with a luminescence of its own, and the attendees in the Great Hall fled in terror until only Rordan, Mactar, and Darven remained. 

“Failure is not to be tolerated!” The High King’s voice echoed, his face awash in the blood of his victims. “No heir of Khamearra need fear the Alenzar’seth. It is time for your training to begin, my Son, and together we shall rid the world of the taint of Shandara once and for all!” 

Mactar waited a few moments before speaking. Now that the High King’s rage had found its victims, he thought it was safe. “There is more, my Lord. The Hythariam have come out of hiding. They were at Shandara, while the Drake fought the Alenzar’seth.”

High King Amorak smiled wolfishly, “To be expected. I think you’ll find we’re better prepared for the likes of the Hythariam than we were when Shandara burned. But come, I want you to tell me everything,” he growled. 

They followed the High King as they stepped over the bodies of the fallen Elitesmen. Amorak, as a council member, could dispense judgment upon the Elitesmen as he pleased without any repercussions. Mactar followed, preparing for what was to come, but as he stepped from the room, something caught his eye. A shadowy reflection of pale skin and black eyes regarding him with pure hatred.

Tarimus?

C
HAPTER
3

SECLUSION

THE rocky ground bit into Sarah’s side as the Drake deflected her attack. The days blurred together, split apart by bouts of consciousness. The Drake was always there when she woke, hovering over her like a storm cloud. The cycle was always the same: upon regaining consciousness, she would attack. The Drake never took any of her weapons and easily thwarted her attacks. It loomed over her, peering at her with yellow eyes filled with a deadly promise. She had felt Aaron reach out to her and wanted to go to him, yet at the same time the very thought of him repulsed her. Her thoughts twisted into a hatred so intense that it yearned for his death. She pictured stabbing him through the heart, and the thought filled part of her with a heated joy, while part of her cried out in denial of such dark thoughts. She would never hurt Aaron.

What was happening to her? Every thought of her love for Aaron became warped into something maddening and sinister, but she still felt him along the fringes of her thoughts. The warmth of his love surrounded her, which part of her embraced while another part pushed away as one would recoil from a poisonous viper. 

KILL HIM!
A sinister voice bellowed in her mind, followed by images of Aaron suffering by her hand. He would look at her in betrayal with helpless regret, and the euphoria that followed sent her mind spiraling. She denied the images from the confines of her mind.
I would never hurt you, my love.

The images only intensified with her resistance, and the pain unfurled, spreading from her head to deep inside her muscles. Where warm memories of their time together should have shielded the walls of her heart, instead it only fueled the fires that commanded his death. She cried out at her shattering heart, every waking moment plunging her deeper into a cycle of madness until only bitterness remained. A hate spurned within her from the betrayal, that her love for Aaron had caused her. How could he leave her like this?

She could hear the cries of a little girl whimpering, and she opened her eyes, frantically searching for the girl. Surrounded by mountain peaks, the frosty air stung her throat, causing her eyes to tear. She was alone except for the Drake, who sat across the way, its yellow eyes watched her mercilessly. Waiting … Expecting … 

Sarah drew her sword and charged. She attacked with the ferocity of a cornered animal, abandoning years of training. The Drake wielded about, bringing up its armored forearm to block her attack. She pulled from the energy buried deep in the mountain and hammered at the Drake. The Drake blocked her attack, and as she glimpsed the stump of its arm, Aaron’s face flashed in her mind. Her body crumpled to the ground in agonizing pain. The Drake did not attack; instead rose steadily to its feet, watching her. She lay helplessly before it, struggling just to breathe. She shook her head to clear it, and concentrated on keeping her mind blank. Behind her, she heard a deep rumbling growl of a Ryakul. She sprang to her feet. The beast sat back on its haunches, with its long neck swinging slowly from side to side, licking its chops. The Ryakul blew a tuft of air from its nostrils as Sarah inched closer. 

The Drake screeched a warning, snapping Sarah’s attention. The Ryakul unfurled its large bat-like wings and in a colossal whoosh launched itself into the air. The Drake leaped upon its back and took off into the air, leaving her stranded at the top of the mountainside. 

Sarah’s elation lasted only seconds as the Drake landed farther down the mountain, blocking her only path. If only she had kept a travel crystal. She looked back down at the Drake as it watched her from below. The Drake was toying with her. She could wait up here and die of exposure or head down in the direction of the Drake. Her thoughts drifted to Aaron, wanting to reach out for the ever-present connection she felt. The bout of pain and nausea followed by images of his demise became the only things she could see. There was a part of her that knew the images were a lie, but they felt so real. She began to yearn for the sickening pleasure that followed the images of Aaron dying. The sick pleasure spread through her like a plague, as all the conflicting feelings began to fracture her mind. She felt the person she was being systematically stripped away. She turned from the Drake’s expectant eyes and stepped toward the edge, seeing the dizzying heights below. The barest hints of a promised release urged her forward. She drew in the energy from the depths of the mountain and launched herself away from the edge, hoping the rising peaks below would claim her so the madness would stop. The wind roared past her face, and she closed her eyes, welcoming the end of her suicidal leap. Her body jerked to the side as a Ryakul’s claws snatched her from the air and away from the death for which she yearned. She pushed against the beast’s claws that held her, and when that failed, tried to reach for her knife, but she couldn’t grasp it. 

The echoes of her screams bounced off the mountains as the Ryakul deposited her in a heap at the Drake’s feet. She knelt there powerless and alone with her shoulders slumped in defeat. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this. She couldn’t trust her own thoughts, lest they dwell upon the one thing the Drake was taking away from her. She looked up with bitter defiance as the yellow hue that circled her vision became more prominent. 

Her face was wet with tears as she squeezed her eyes shut. 

No!
She screamed in her mind, momentarily throwing off the shackles she could neither see nor touch, but that were firmly in place. A shaft of sunlight peeked through the clouds, and its warmth caressed her face for the span of a single breath. The connection to Aaron that she had pushed to the furthest reaches of her mind shimmered, calling to her. She drew strength from it; without hesitation she reached out to hold onto it with all her might, despite the cost. 

Aaron!
She called out from within and without, her voice going from a scream of defiance to a cry of pain across the rooftops of the world. For a moment, she heard his gasp of breath across the expanse between them. The plunge into pleasure and pain was swift, and as her mind split apart she held grudgingly to the thought that she had reached out to him, and that he had heard her.

***

Aaron awoke crying out Sarah’s name. His body was drenched in sweat. He opened his eyes to a room where the walls were blackened as if they’d been burnt except for a solitary spot where Colind and Verona huddled behind a barrier of light. 

“Sarah,” Aaron gasped doubling over. “I could feel … her pain. So much pain,” he said, wincing as he wrapped his arms around himself. 

The barrier disappeared, and Colind and Verona rushed to his side. Colind ordered Verona to bring some water.

“Easy now,” Colind said.

Verona quickly returned and offered Aaron a cup. He took a sip and looked around the room, “Did I do this?” Aaron asked.

“I’m afraid so, my friend,” Verona said. “You were thrashing about, and I was trying to restrain you when Colind barged in and hauled me out of the way. Just in time, I might add.”

Colind nodded back to Verona and turned toward Aaron, “What did you see?”

“The last thing I remember was collapsing in the hallway. Then I woke up and heard Sarah calling out to me, and for a second I could feel the pain she was in. It was unlike anything I’ve ever felt. It was her, but at the same time it wasn’t.”

“It’s the work of the Nanites. She is fighting their assimilation,” Colind said.

“She’s fading. I have to find her. There must be a way to fight them,” Aaron said, rising to his feet.

Colind sighed, “Iranus doesn’t believe so, and he’s not the only one. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said they tried everything after the fall of Shandara.”

“The Hythariam would have me abandon her, which is something I won’t do,” Aaron said.

“Everyone will pay the price if you fall now. You’re all that stands between the horde and this world,” Colind said.

“So Iranus says, but I get the feeling they aren’t telling us everything. The only thing I do know is that the Drake has Sarah, and I won’t abandon her to that fate.”

The door to the room opened, and Roselyn stood in the doorway, looking at the ruined room. “What happened?" she asked.

Aaron was about to answer when he realized that he didn’t know what had really happened, and looked at Colind questioningly.

“What I think happened,” Colind began, “is you experienced a backlash of energy from your connection to Sarah.”

“But how is this possible?” Aaron asked.

“You brought Sarah back from the brink, and used your own lifebeat to feed into her, keeping her alive while her body repaired itself,” Colind said, “Extremely risky as you both could have died or worse be trapped in a world of shadow.”

“Some risks are worth taking,” Aaron replied. 

“Indeed they are,” Colind agreed.

 “A backlash of energy emanating from a person caused all this?” Roselyn asked, her voice trailing off as she tentatively reached out to the blackened wall. “These walls are resistant to your average fire and heat. Nothing short of a plasma bolt could scorch these walls in such a way, and even then a bolt would only affect a concentrated area. The fact that all of these walls are burnt to such a degree is a testament to the amount of power this ‘backlash’ unleashed.” Roselyn looked at Colind, “Do we need to move him away to a more secure location, away from others?”