The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal) (42 page)

“Briscott, you’d better watch your tongue.”  My voice sounded as if it had come from a different person. 

“Why?  What are you blighting going to do?  Kill me?  Take that blighted sword and run me through?  You’d be doing me a blighted favor.  There’s nothing left for me in this world.”  With that, he spat at me, hitting me right between the eyes.  I lost it.

Screaming, I drew my sword.  As soon as I had it drawn, it was ripped from my grasp and cast out into the darkness.  Something slammed into my chest and threw me a couple paces backwards to the ground.  My breath was knocked violently from my lungs.  As I lay there gasping, the cold air burning my lungs, Max was suddenly on my chest.

“What in Asrin’s blood do you think you are doing?” he rasped, using the god of drunken brawling in his curse.  Yes, you read that correctly.

It had taken a magic talking wizard squirrel knocking me on my ass, but understanding of what I’d done blossomed in my mind.  I’d drawn my sword on a friend, intent on using it against him.  Had Max’s prior instance of drawing magic energy from my body caused a permanent change in me—a change that put me at risk of completely losing myself to anger?  I worried that the same unnatural compulsion for violence that had once prompted me to attempt harming Max had caused me do the same to Briscott.

As I struggled to calm my rage, I thought about Briscott’s words.  Even though he’d been suffering from ellifil withdrawl, there’d been a harsh truth to them.  While I’d fretted over what waited for me in Gualain, Briscott had been dealing with the prospect of returning to where his family had been so brutally and senselessly murdered. 
Where his life and dreams had essentially ended.  Where he’d once assumed his daughter would eventually marry and bear his grandchildren.  Where he’d thought his son would grow into a man.  Where he and his wife were supposed to grow old together. 

I should’ve realized that Briscott had been handling everything too well, that something dark lurked beneath his cheerfulness.  He had been suppressing his emotions with ellifil the entire time.  Anger towards me must have burned deep beneath the intoxication, latent and fighting for release, and had finally wormed its way to the surface.  I felt like a complete ass.

“I’m sorry,” I replied, meaing it for both Max and Briscott.  Now that the heat of anger was leaving me, I began to feel the painful effects of the fight.  My lips stung and my jaw ached as I spoke. 

“I am not going to heal your injuries,” Max snapped, dropping from my chest as I sat up.  He sometimes did that in order to teach me lesson.

Briscott was storming down the hill towards our camp where Ithan stood behind a newly stoked campfire.  “Briscott, wait,” I called after him, receiving no response.  I turned to Max.  “We have to talk to him.”  I achingly tried to stand but was pushed back down by an invisible force. 

“Let him go,” Max cautioned, watching Briscott’s retreat.  “Give him some time.” 

Something shiny on the ground beside me caught my eye.  Picking it up, I realized that it was the corked vial of ellifil that Briscott had been searching for.  Part of me felt I should simply empty it right then.  Instead, I found myself tucking it behind my belt.  Max, his eyes focused on Briscott, didn’t seem to notice. 

“What happened?” Max questioned, bringing his attention back to me.

I told Max about the ellifil.  “I should’ve known.”

“Do not be a lunkhead,” Max responded.  “None of us knew.  We will have to keep a close watch on Briscott tonight.  There is no telling what he will do when withdrawal
really
kicks in.”

I looked to Max, incredulous.  “It’ll get worse?”

Max nodded.  “This is only the beginning.” 

“So what do we do?”I questioned, leaning my head forward and holding the bridge of my nose to staunch its bleeding.  Thankfully, it wasn’t broken.

“Wait it out,” Max answered curtly.  “You, however, will stay here with the horses.  I will have Ithan bring you a blanket.  You and Briscott are
not
to be around each other until you both calm yourselves.”

I was taken aback by Max’s assertion that I had need of calming down.  “Max, Briscott is the one—”

“Anything you are about to say is going to make you sound like a child trying to convince his parents that he should not be punished for breaking his mother’s favorite vase,” Max admonished.  “Remember that you had your sword pulled on him.  You both need time to clear your heads.  Understand?”

I felt like a scolded child, but Max was right.  “I understand,” I answered.  I took a deep breath and looked down to Max.  “Max, do you think my reaction tonight was because of the night you healed me after fighting Menar’s men?”  I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the answer.

“That is definitely a possibility,” Max answered, his voiced edged with regret.  “I hope not, but this was highly out of character for you.  Either way, there is nothing we can do about it right now.”

Before I could respond, a frightened cry sounded from the direction of our camp.  The cry was followed by a raptorial screech, a pained scream from Briscott, and then a large splash.  Max and I exchanged startled expressions. 

I jumped up and immediately charged down the hill, Max’s protests lost in the wind whooshing past my ears.  The snowy cold burned against my bruised and bleeding face, but I had to make sure that Ithan and Briscott were okay. 

Ithan stood by the fire with a look of pure panic on his wan face.  Fleet was puffed up on his shoulder.  “He came at me with his knife when I asked what was happening,” Ithan mumbled through trembling lips.  “I just reacted.”

My gaze shot to the undulating ripples a good ten paces from the lake’s bank.  “What did you do?”

“I . . . I knocked him into the lake . . . with magic,” Ithan answered softly, his eyes wide. “I did not mean to use so much force.  I . . . I panicked.”  It looked like Saiyre had been right about Ithan’s magic abilities.  Launching Briscott so far across the lake had to have taken quite a bit of strength in magic.

After a brief moment of stunned silence, I realized that Briscott wasn’t surfacing.  “Oh, blighted hell,” I muttered, Briscott’s curse of choice sneaking into my vocabulary again.  I quickly kicked off my boots. 

“Do not even think about going in there,” Max warned, arriving at my side.  “We do not need you freezing to death.”

Ignoring Max’s cautioning, I started forward, unbuckling my scabbard and coin purse and dropping them to the ground.  I waded into the shallows of the lake, the icy shock causing my lungs to seize and excruciatingly tensing my entire body.  Max shouted something from behind me, but I couldn’t make it out over the sounds of splashing water.

Regardless of my body’s protests, I forced a deep breath into my lungs and started swimming towards the rippling waters where Briscott had landed.  After several strokes, I stopped, treading water as I tried to once again locate Briscott’s entry point.  My entire body burned with freezing cold.  I began to panic, unable to draw in enough breath.  If I couldn’t figure out where Briscott was, I was going to have to swim back to shore or die right there in the water. 

To my right, a cluster of bubbles rose to the surface.  Without a moment’s hesitation, I dove under the water.  The lake seemed bottomless as my cold-stiffened arms and legs propelled me deeper into its depths.  I could feel myself reaching the delicate edge of consciousness.  I yearned to take in a breath, but I knew that sucking in the water would be the death of me. 

My arms and legs went numb.  My chest exploded with pain.  Dizziness enveloped me.  Even so, I continued to dive further into the lake’s murky depths to save my friend, no matter what had happened between us.  If he died in that lake, I’d never forgive myself.

My fingers suddenly met something solid.  I desperately grabbed at whatever I’d touched, my right hand clasping one of Briscott’s wrists.  For a brief moment, I thought I’d saved him.  Before I could start back towards the lake’s surface, though, consciousness fled my body and left me to drown.

Chapter 36

Reprimands and Amends

The world was dead.  Blackened splinters, the sole remnants of trees, stabbed into the sky as ash rained from above.  Fissures spread across the charred ground in spider-webbed patterns as far as my eyes could see.  From my vantage atop a stony bluff, I felt an overwhelming sense of loss.  In my heart, I knew that the state of the land before me was my fault.

“Impressive, is it not?” a confident male voice announced from behind me. 

I turned my head, the background blurring nauseatingly as I did.  My eyes met those of my father.  He was dressed in  regal robes, his crown dull in the gloom of the darkened sky.  His lips curved up in sinister satisfaction as he looked out over the ruined landscape, his usually blue eyes appearing a dull gray. 

“No, this is wrong,” I argued.  My mind couldn’t comprehend why my father was pleased about the death around us.  “Why would you want this?” 

With a condescending arch of his eyebrow, my father stepped towards me.  As he did, his face morphed into someone else’s for a mere fraction of a moment.  For that infinitesimal eye blink of time, his crown was rusted over and fitted with dull, cracked jewels.  As quickly as the change occurred, it vanished, leaving me with the recognizable image of my father, save his disturbing expression and lifeless eyes.

“You understand so little,” he accused, his tone malicious.  Do you really think that prophecy will serve you, that you can stop this?  Stop me?  You do not have the strength.  This is far beyond the weakness of mortals.”

“I don’t understand,” I admitted, my heart pounding in fear.

“This world will bow to me,” my father continued, ignoring my response.  Once again, his face and crown flickered so quickly that I wasn’t even sure it had actually happened.  “You will not stop me.  You
cannot
stop me.  You are weak.  Fragile.  You are . . .”

****

“ . . .quite possibly the most dull-witted idiot I have ever known,” a raspy voice finished as consciousness seeped back into my body.

My eyelids fluttered, the world seeming to vacillate between complete darkness and scattered pinpoints of light.  Groggily, I turned my head to see a burning campfire.  Its orange glow revealed that I was wrapped tightly in a wool blanket.  I couldn’t feel the warmth of the blanket or the fire, nor could I feel the cold of the night on my exposed face.  I was completely numb.

Memories of my encounter with Briscott started to creep into the forefront of my thoughts.  First I remembered our fight, and then I remembered going into the lake after him.  With my arms immobilized within the blanket, I tried to sit up using my stomach muscles.  Dizziness washed over me, and I promptly fell back.  I had to close my eyes to stop the world from spinning.  It didn’t work. 

“Do not try to get up again,” Max’s voice commanded from beside me.  I let my head lull towards the fire again, this time seeing that Max was curled up on a blanket next to me.  “Now that I know you will not be comatose for the rest of your life, I am going to sleep.  I suggest that you do the same.”

“Where’s Briscott?” I asked hoarsely, my throat not wanting to work correctly just yet. 

“Ithan is watching over him.  He should be okay after some rest, the same as you.  So get some sleep,” Max responded in annoyance.

“What happened?  Why can’t I feel anything?”

Max huffed loudly.  “You cannot feel anything because Ithan used magic to temporarily deaden your superficial nerves.  Otherwise, you would be in a world of hurt right now.  I suggested we let you suffer for your foolhardy actions, but you need rest, so I relented.  At least I learned a new spell in the process.  Ithan says it will wear off by morning.

“As for what happened, pulling you from the water was a simple task, once you stopped moving.  If you had just listened to me in the first place, I could have retrieved Briscott while you stayed comfortable and dry on land.  Furthermore, Ithan and I would not be completely worn out from saving the both of you.  His insufferable owl would likely be in a little better shape as well.”

“Max, I—”

“You could have died or damaged your brain,” Max scolded.  “You cannot take such risks, Korin.  You are too important.”  Max exhaled forcefully.  “Lunkhead.”

Properly put in my place, I stared into the star-laden sky, considering what I’d done.  If Raijom’s prophecy truly was symbolic of my threat to him, then I could’ve easily ended that threat without him even having to lift a finger.  Everything I’d survived would’ve all been for nothing.  Prophecy aside, Max was right; no matter how noble my intentions, my actions had been idiotic.

Max’s irritation obviously stemmed from his concern for me.  Though he was undoubtedly concerned about stopping Raijom as well, I could tell from the look in his eyes that he’d feared losing me.  I knew that feeling all too well. 

“I’m sorry, Max,” I apologized sincerely. 

“Apology accepted.  Sleep,” he muttered sleepily.

“Goodnight, Max,” I returned, still staring up at the stars.  I knew sleep wasn’t going come easy with all the thoughts running through my head.  The nightmare I’d woken from wasn’t going to help either. 

Eventually my thoughts drifted to Sal’.  At first, I brooded over her betrothal and the fact that we could never be together, as I so often did during those days.  But then I found myself remembering her beautiful face, her winsome smile, and her melodic laughter.  I thought about how wonderful a person she was, about the quality of her heart and spirit. 

The weight of the world disappeared, replaced with pleasant dreams.

****

My eyes opened to meet the purplish glow of the coming dawn.  Pain bloomed across my face and speared through my limbs; it wasn’t the first time Max had left me reminders of my own stupidity.  Ithan’s magic had finally dissipated, leaving me to fully experience those reminders.  The cold air was invigorating, though it cut glaringly across my face.  Through my swollen nose, I smelled the sharp scent of woodsmoke. 

I achingly sat up, the blanket having loosened around me during the night.  As I stretched my aching arms, I noticed Briscott sitting nearby before a small fire, a wool blanket drawn tightly around his body.  He poked at the fire with a stick, stoking the embers to keep it ablaze.  He hadn’t seemed to notice my waking. 

Max was still sleeping soundly on a blanket beside me.  I didn’t see Ithan, indicating he was probably on watch.  That left me wondering what I should do. 

Before I could think too hard about it, Briscott grunted, “Morning, Korin.”  His sunken eyes remained fixed on the fire.  “Come sit with me, please.”  The “please,” diametric to his scornful tone, caught my attention. 

When I didn’t immediately stand, his reddened eyes lifted to where I sat.  “It’s okay.  I just want to talk.” 

Grabbing my blanket and draping it around my shoulders, I found myself approaching the fire.  I was still in the same clothes I’d been wearing the previous night, though they were now bone dry.  There was no snow falling from the sky, but a layer of frost covered the ground, giving the grass a silvery glow. 

Sorely, I sat across the fire from Briscott, putting some cautious distance between us.  My gut told me that he had no plans of doing anything malicious, but a little carefulness wouldn’t hurt. 

Briscott was highlighted with a soft orange glow, shadows playing across his face from the flickering flames between us.  His eyes lacked the spark that I’d seen in them ever since the day we’d first met.  They were simply lifeless.  The right one was also blackened and puffy, matching the wicked bruise on his chin.  I felt guilty for his injuries, though I sported several from him as well.

Briscott’s entire body trembled under his blanket.  Even with the cold, his shivering was a little too violent.  Ellifil withdrawal was most likely to blame.  I didn’t know what I could do for him, so I just sat there, silent, unsure of what to say to the friend whom I’d come to blows with the night before. 

“Ithan fell asleep while watching me,” Briscott explained, his rough tone softening.  He gestured with a jerk of his head in the direction of our tethered horses.  It was still too dark for me to make out anything more than shadows there.  “I don’t believe he meant to fall asleep, but with how much we put him and Max through last night, I’m not surprised.  I woke up not long ago and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I figured I’d wait for you to wake so we could talk.”  

“Okay,” I replied, not knowing what to expect from him.  His lack of cursing made me wary for some reason. 
Maybe because it seemed so unnatural for him.

Briscott continued to poke at the fire as we sat in awkward silence.  I debated whether or not to speak of what I suspected to be the reason I’d been driven to draw my sword on him, but I couldn’t make myself speak.

“Thank you for coming after me,” Briscott stated, finally breaking the silence.  His eyes didn’t meet mine.  “Even after what I did.”

“You had your reasons,” I replied, scooting closer to the fire now that I was a little more confident that our talk would be cordial.  “I’m sorry I didn’t realize how much pain you were really in before last night.”

Briscott shook his head vehemently.  “No.  Please don’t apologize, Korin.  The blame rests solely on my own shoulders.  I was masking my emotions with ellifil to the point that
I
didn’t even realize the blighted pain I was in.”

My lips twitched into a small smile.  There’d been a hint of the old Briscott in his voice.

“Do you remember when I said that I volunteered to have the rock put in my chest?” Briscott questioned soberly.

I nodded, curious of why he’d bring up the topic again.

“I was telling you the truth, if not of the whole it.  In all honesty, I considered taking my life after losing my wife and children.”  Briscott stopped and swallowed loudly before continuing.  “But I was scared that my soul would be sent to Rizear’s blighted domain, never to reunite with them.”

Briscott’s eyes took on a faraway look.  “When Jefren wanted to test that rock . . . I saw it as a means of distraction from my pain.  I thought that maybe if someone else had control over me, then the pain—the hurt—wouldn’t be so overwhelming.  I know now how little sense that makes, but grief can make you do stupid things—things like drawing a knife on a good friend.”  Briscott winced at his own words and started absently poking at the fire.  Glowing embers danced through the air.

“Briscott, I . . .”  I didn’t know what to say as I watched tears start to cut lines down his dirtied face and into his beard.

Briscott held up the hand that had been under the blanket and shook his head, keeping me from having to say anything.  His other hand trembled so intensely that I thought he’d lose his grip on the stick.  “Obviously, you’ve seen that the rocks do nothing to quell your emotions.  When Kaitlyne gave me my first dose of ellifil, however, I felt at peace for the first time since my family . . .
”  Briscott wiped at each eye with the heel of his palm.  “It was the only way I could cope, Korin.  The only way I
can
cope.”

“Look, Briscott—
”  I was cut off once again by a lifting of his hand.

“You were right to stop me,” Briscott continued, staring into the fire.  “If I keep running from everything, it will not truly be
me
avenging my family.  Instead, it will be that other Diatheze-blighted fellow, the one who’s numb to the world as I merely watch through his eyes.”  Diatheze is the god of delusions.

“Besides, I’m not the only one hurting through all of this. 
The pressure that must be weighing you down right now . . . you didn’t deserve what I brought upon you last night.  I’m the one who should be sorry, and I am.  Please forgive me.”  His gaze lifted to me, pleading. 

For a moment, I just sat there, letting Briscott’s words sink in.  I still felt that
I
should be the one apologizing, but he’d already instisted that I didn’t.  So instead, I simply stood and walked over to him, extending a hand. 

“Of course you’re forgiven,” I assured him.

Briscott stood, ignoring my hand to pull me into an embrace.  I threw my arms around him and let him cry into my shoulder, his body wracking with sobs and withdrawl tremors.

Briscott eventually took a step back and wiped at his eyes.  He let out a small chuckle.  While it wasn’t as rich or sincere as what I was used to from him, I could tell there was some honest happiness behind it. 
“Seems I’m making a blighted fool of myself.”

I gave him a sympathetic smile, happy that he was able to dredge up a little humor despite everything.  “I guess I can forgive you for that, too.” 

Briscott actually laughed at that, but I knew he still had a long road to getting back to his old self.  Then again, I didn’t know if his old self—as I knew it, at least—was really his true self or not.  The ellifil may have turned him into an entirely different person.  When I’d taken it just once, I’d acted far differently than normal. 

Silence settled around us once again.  The sky was starting to lighten to a pale red as the sun peeked over the eastern horizon.  We needed to get moving as soon as possible to take full advantage of the daylight hours.