Lost Empire (2 page)

As always, minimal words were needed for her powerful presence to fill the room. Her fiery red hair was pulled back into a single thick braid. It ran down the back of her elegant green silk dress with white loopy lace bordering the neck and shoulders. Although she looked stunning as always, wearing a commoner’s vest with worn britches covered with mud would have done nothing to lessen her commanding presence. “I require that all of you accompany me to the war room,” she said as her radiant green eyes slowly swept the room, taking the time to pause on each individual before shifting to the next. With that, she turned and left without another word. Not that any other words were needed, as they quickly rose and fell into line, then followed her down the hall.

When they arrived, they all silently took their seats around the wooden table. Berkeni stood patiently at the front, with Addel seated on his left and Morcel to the right. “Well, hello everyone,” he said while running his fingers down his long, white, stringy beard. “I would just like to give everyone a brief update as to where we stand given our recent findings.” He motioned to Addel, who gave a slight nod. After all, it was her research that led them to understand that Krytoes could not possibly enter the human world through any entry point in Tarmerria.

Addel looked to Eric, her face filled with sadness. “It pains me to say it, but there is no denying that the entry point is somewhere in Shangti. Believe me, it breaks my heart to have to send you kids off this way after everything you’ve already been through.”

Berkeni sighed regretfully while scratching his bald head. “But send you we must. In fact, that is indeed why I have assembled you here.” This time he looked to Ilirra. “I have just received word from Candrin. The messenger left not an hour ago.” She dropped her eyes and braced for the news she had been dreading for some time now. He made a special attempt to soften his voice, being fully aware that she hated this as much as he did. “They are ready, my lady. We simply can’t wait any longer.” He moved his hand in a sweeping gesture across the room. “They must be prepared to leave...by tomorrow.”

The Queen did her best to steel her gaze. She knew this had been coming for some time and saw no reason to hide from it now. Ilirra rested her palms on the table and slowly pushed herself up to her feet. Her hardened eyes appeared clouded and distant. “Then it is time, and we can delay no longer. I will send out soldiers tonight. They will set up camps in three-mile intervals from here, all the way to the streets of Candrin.” Her emotionless eyes bounced between Jade and Eric. Even though she was looking at them, she seemed to be talking to everyone else. “We cannot risk even the slightest possibility that the Gate Keeper will come to harm. Any and all precautions will be taken; no expense will be spared. I trust all of you are ready, for we have known this day was coming for some time now. Everyone dismissed,” she said sharply with a flick of her hand.

Open mouths ready to spew dozens of questions slowly closed as she turned in a flash and exited the room. She marched through the hall with determination, never looking back once.
It is time. That is all there is to it
. On she sped past the dining hall, her face an emotionless mask.
This is their destiny. Their very reason for living! I’ve done all I can to help. Whether it’s fair or not, it is now up to them
. When she reached her private chambers, she threw open the door. Slamming it hard behind her, she turned and ran toward her bed as if she were on fire. With a flying leap, she landed face down on top of the mattress. In this moment of weakness, she was no longer the Queen. The greedy thoughts of a spoiled child raced through her mind as she sobbed uncontrollably. She could still stop them from going. They would stay here with her. Her beautiful Jade would not be taken from her again. So what if they were the only ones who could stop this evil? So what if the world was depending on them?
It’s not fair
!

****

Morcel continued to rummage through his dresser drawers. Several sets of clothes were laid out across the green and white sheets of his oversized bed. A few leather sacks were spread along the floor while others lay in the corner. He loved adventure and was actually looking forward to the trip despite the seriousness of the dire task. Now and then he caught his reflection smiling widely back at him in the wood-framed floor mirror, radiating the youthful energy of a teen. A light knock at the door pulled him from his pleasant daydream. “Come in,” he said as he forced his voice low. He didn’t care much for folk seeing him giddy.

The door opened sharply and Azek stepped through. He opened his mouth as if to speak before looking around at the bags and clothes haphazardly thrown about the room. When he did finally speak, it seemed to go off in a different direction than originally planned. “Ah. I...uh...see you’re getting ready for tomorrow.”

“
That’s right,” said Morcel as he kept shifting through drawers, paying very little attention to Azek right now. “Just have to get a few more things packed and I’ll be ready.”

“
Yes...well...that’s what I’ve come to talk to you about,” he said with his head high and both hands clasped behind his back.

Morcel hadn’t turned around yet, but he suddenly stopped rummaging through his things. It took a moment for the beast to stand straight up and give his full attention to Azek. “You seem to have something on your mind. Here, friend, have a seat.” He grabbed two high-backed oak chairs from the corner of the room. He placed one in front of Azek while spinning his around and sitting on it backwards. Resting his chin across the back of the chair, he gazed at him stoically, ready to hear him out. Perhaps no more than a touch of curiosity simmered in his bright green eyes.

Azek folded his hardened, calloused hands across his lap. “I know what kind of man you are, so I will get right to the point.” His dark, hawk-like eyes were an easy match for Morcel’s emerald-green pair; two vicious killers in the same room, each with nothing but the highest respect for one another. “We want you to stay here in Taron.”

Morcel displayed a hint of a smile. “I’m afraid that’s not possible...friend. You see, I’ve sworn my life to the Gate Keeper. Not to you,” he raised an eyebrow as his stare turned up a notch, “or to the Queen.”

“
Believe me, my friend, Her Majesty and myself understand this completely. But what we are asking is not a punishment, nor do we deem you incapable. Far from it! In fact, it’s a promotion of sorts.”

Morcel’s other eyebrow now joined his first, both seeming to want to climb to the top of his head. “And what exactly would be considered a promotion over guarding the Gate Keeper himself?” Morcel was almost beginning to look amused now. Almost.

Azek couldn’t help but chuckle at the wit rarely displayed by the hardened mercenary “When you put it that way, absolutely nothing. But as both of us know, that is not exactly how the world works. This has nothing to do with whether or not Eric needs your services. It’s more a matter of...” Azek glanced around the room a moment, as if trying to choose his next words carefully, “It has more to do with an open position in the services of Taron that can’t possibly be filled by anyone else.”

Now it was Morcel’s turn to gaze around the room. He seemed to weigh the gravity of this proposal. At length, his eyes met Azek’s once more. “Go on then. I’m listening.”

“
You see, a man of your skill—and maybe more importantly, a man with your leadership qualities— would ascend the Taron military to heights never seen before. A man such as yourself comes along once, maybe twice, every five hundred years or so—”

“
And what about Eric?” Morcel interrupted. “Have you even bothered to discuss this with him?”

“
Yes. As a matter of fact, he has,” said Eric, leaning in the doorway. He seemed to have emerged from thin air. “Trust me, Morcel, it was not a decision that was easily made. Of course I want you to go with me. Your vast skill set,” Eric cocked his head to the side, “and let’s face it—your uncanny brutality—cannot possibly be replaced.”

Morcel let out a long sigh before slowly bobbing his head with unspoken understanding. The man was far from stupid. He could see where this was going—the logic behind the decision—but allowed it to play out anyway.

“
I am in more than capable hands on this quest,” said Eric as he approached Morcel, placing a hand on the big man’s shoulder. “But as capable as they are, none of them could bring the honor, leadership, and unblinking commitment to this military the way you could. They are as committed to me as you are, but they are not soldiers.” Eric gave the man’s shoulder a final shake and a firm squeeze before stepping back. He raised his open hand in a proper solute. “And for these reasons, as well as a hundred others, your title is now Morcel Quaron, Captain of the Guard.”

Morcel sat there looking dazed for a minute. Then he finally stood and recklessly flung his chair across the room. He took a deep breath as his green eyes flared. “I am both honored and humbled that the two of you would show such faith in me. Therefore, I accept. That is...on one condition.” Eric raised an eyebrow as he met those green emeralds. “You make sure you make it back...alive.”

Eric’s grin grew even larger. “Deal,” he whispered as the two embraced.

Azek clasped his hand over Morcel’s shoulder, forcing him to glance his direction. “Don’t forget your rank, big man. You still answer to me.

Chapter 2

The room was still plenty dark when Eric’s eyes blinked open for what seemed like the hundredth time. Just lying there wide awake wasn’t going to help anything. Sleep simply wouldn’t come, and it was getting too close to morning to benefit him anyway.
No sense in putting this off any longer
.
Better just get up
. He kicked back the thick green blanket along with the clinging white sheets. Still in his small clothes, he ambled groggily over to his large mirrored dresser.

Eric splashed a generous amount of rose-scented water from the wooden washbowl all over his chest and face. Droplets of scented water dotted the dresser and floor. After brushing away a few petals that had stuck to his chest and one from his cheek, he took a long look at himself in the gold-bordered mirror. The minimal light played tricks on his eyes as a reflection he no longer seemed to recognize gazed back at him. With eyes sunken in deep and heavily exaggerated age lines around the eyes, the reflection looked to be a much older version of himself. But even as he moved his hand to touch his cheek, the reflection did no such thing!

Eric felt paralyzed all of a sudden; his every instinct screamed for him to pull away, to run, but his eyes stayed locked on the mirror as the animated image leaned out from the glass. An unnatural toothy smile stretched clear across its face—a stretched-out smile no normal face was capable of, as the corners of its mouth nearly touched its ears. Golden light began to scatter from its enormous mouth and bulging yellow eyes. Its head snaked out like a serpent, slinking toward Eric as a thick, black, forked tongue whipped around in circles.

Suddenly Eric snapped out of his dark vision as light knocking came from outside the door. Breathing heavily, his head whipped around this way and that. He slammed both fists down onto the dresser and defiantly stared into the mirror once more. His reflection seemed normal again as he performed a series of small tests just to prove he hadn’t gone completely mad—a touch of his cheek, a hand across his forehead. Mercifully, his reflection mimicked his every move. The light knocking repeated with no added urgency. “I’ll be right there,” he said breathlessly, doing his best to steady his voice. Blinking away the bizarre vision he could only rationalize as a severe lack of sleep, he pulled his pants up just as Ilirra peeked through the door. Seeing that he was at least
mostly
decent she entered the room but didn’t close the door.

“
Good morning Eric,” she said, doing a terrible job of hiding the sadness in her voice. “The others are waiting for you downstairs. They are ready when you are.”

“
But it’s still dark,” he said with a touch of puzzlement in his voice. “We’re leaving for Candrin already?”

“
Yes, Eric. The others are ready and you have a long trip ahead of you. But first...” She paused a long moment. “But first, I think it might be best if you spoke to someone before you go.” She turned sharply without waiting for a reply and went back out into the hall.

“
Speak to whom?” he watched her turn and speak to someone just out of his line of sight. He just barely heard her say: “You have five minutes. Then he must be ready to leave.” The Queen disappeared from his vision as Eric was left staring at an open door. His anxiety began building.

His uneasiness was more than justified as a muscular man with short blond hair and dark eyes stepped into the room. The silence hung heavy in the air as Eric stood face to face with the only man he had ever called “father.” This man. This lie! This mockery of family and love.
How dare he come here?
Memories of the past flooded though him like raging water—memories he had hoped to bury forever.
Lies
! Images of blowing out candles on his name day.
Do I have a name day
? This…man… comforting his son when he scraped his knee. Helping him sound out long words during his studies. Taking his son fishing...hunting...hiking.... His son?
His guinea pig. His project. His...duty!
But just as fast as the searing anger flashed through him like lightning, it melted away, replaced by pain and regret. It cut him so deeply to even lay eyes on this man. He looked so different now; eyes heavy, like he hadn’t slept in days. The man opened his mouth to speak before Eric abruptly cut him off.