The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal) (55 page)

Chapter 48

Goodbye, Old Friend

Being faced with what could possibly be my last full day of life before heading to my death the next morning, I found myself yearning to do all the things I’d ever aspired to do.  Instead, I spent nearly the entire time planning for the event that would lead to said death.

There’d be no goodbyes to my adoptive family.  No time to have one last gaze across the vast ocean horizon.  No chance to see if Sal’ and I had a potential future together. 

It seemed a wastefully pragmatic way to spend my final hours. 

“He’ll be well taken care of?” I asked Khavin, one of the remaining members of Sal’s Wizard Guard squadron.

“Yes, they all will,” Khavin assured me as two other wizards helped him mount Telis.  Telis bucked at the unfamiliar, lithe wizard but settled down once I placed a reassuring hand on his neck. 

Khavin was heading back to the Wizard Academy, having lost much of his right leg and hand during the day’s battle.  Though he’d been pulled from the fighting quickly enough for his wounds to be healed with minimal blood loss, no magic could regenerate his lost appendages.  Given his new disability, he’d chosen to return to the Wizard Academy, taking some of Terafall’s surviving residents with him. 

Windmane and Briscott’s dappled mare were hitched to wagons carrying a half dozen survivors each, with another four horses doing the same.  Telis was hitched to a small wagon as well, this one filled with food and barrels of water. 

I combed my hand through Telis’s shiny black mane.  “Be well, my friend.  Thank you for everything.”  There was a sense of finality with the goodbye, but at least I knew Telis would be cared for upon my death.  I felt the cold sting of tears as they were exposed to the winter air.  If not for the genuine look of sympathy from Khavin, I would’ve been a little embarrassed.  Not everyone understands how animals can become your family. 

Briscott patted my back.  “He’ll be all right, Korin.  He’s better off leaving with Khavin than being left in this blighted town.  Come on.”  He spoke with the friendly tone that had caught my attention so many weeks prior in Jefren’s camp. 

“He will be waiting for you at the Academy, Korin,” Khavin said as I allowed Briscott to pull me back from Telis.

“I may not make it back,” I argued.

“
When
you return, he will be there,” Khavin insisted.  I wasn’t sure why he had faith in my ability to survive the trip to Bherin, but having no faith in myself, I had to take all I could get from others.

Khavin kicked Telis’s flank with his good leg.  Telis simply looked back at me with large, dark eyes.  I flicked my hands forward a few times, prompting Telis to move on without me.  I could’ve sworn I saw a glimmer in Telis’s eyes, one that resonated with the same faith that Khavin had expressed.  He then started forward at an easy canter, setting the pace for the others.

Watching Telis disappear around the corner of a house, I wanted to give chase, but I knew that what we were doing was for the best.

“Come on, Korin.  The others are waiting,” Briscott reminded me. 

After the ordeal with Oreon, we’d all taken the time to fill our stomachs with warm food and clean up with near-freezing water.  I even had the chance to shave, saving me from having to chance another magic butchering from Sal’.  Granted, she seemed to have vastly improved on her magic skills since I’d last seen her.

We’d also discussed plans for the coming trip to Bherin.  We each took responsibility for a certain facet of preparation.  Til’ was to gather enough food for the night and following morning.  Ithan was in charge of finding us some light armor.  Briscott was tasked with securing lengths of rope to use for our flight on the dragons.  I’d been put in charge of the horses.  Sal’ took it upon herself to ensure that the troops and remaining Wizard Guard members were prepared for a potential eldrhim attack. 

Max claimed that someone needed to remain in a central location to monitor our preparations—one which just happened to be in another of the still standing houses in front of a roaring hearth. 

As for our plans the next day . . . well, that was really up to the dragons.

For now, we’d agreed to convene in order to ascertain that our preparations were complete.  My reluctance to send Telis away had apparently led to Briscott being sent to haul me back. 

So, with my shoulder bag once again in hand, I followed Briscott back to the house for our final meeting before morning.  I’d kept my journal, tucking the pages Saiyre had given me inside it.  I’d also kept the small stick and the dragon statue that Til’ had carved for my adoptive father, Mathual.  The man who, with his wife Harriet, had taken me in when I’d been sent away from my real parents by Raijom Weist in an attempt to protect my birth father from being killed by my own hands.  If my gut was right, and the black apparition had been my birth father, Galvin Lemweir, then Raijom’s efforts may have been in vain. 

And if so, Raijom would be next. 

The frigid breeze stung my freshly shaved cheeks as we made our way to the house we’d commandeered for our meeting.  Evening was beginning to stake its claim, while snow continued to sprinkle over us. 

Troops and town residents were working feverishly to clear the dead from the streets.  Part of me wanted to help, to absorb myself in a monotonous task that would at least temporarily mask the unadulterated fear spiking through my entire being.  On the other hand, each dead—or twice dead—body would be a reminder of what I’d be facing the next day.

We passed through the carnage, eventually arriving at the squat house we’d utilized as a base of operations.  The family who’d owned it was thankfully safe on one of the wagons bound for the Wizard Academy. 

Shaking the snow from my cloak and kicking it from the bottom of my boots, I stepped through the front door with Briscott behind me.  The one-roomed, thatch-roofed house was even smaller than the one Oreon had been held in, but without the bloody reminder of the darkness that had befallen Gualain—the darkness that threatened all of Amirand.

The house had little by means of décor, just a few simple pieces of furniture and plain, wood-paneled walls.  In the back corner of the room, the hearth burned bright, with Ithan and
Til’ sitting at a small, round table in front of it. 

“By Zieuth’s blood, shut the door before you let out all the heat,” Max greeted with mock rancor from atop the table, throwing his paws up dramatically.  At least, I think it was mock.  Anyway, Zieuth’s the god of fire.  “The least you could do after making us wait so long is to refrain from freezing us to death.” 

Briscott chuckled good-humoredly as he shut the door behind us.  In Max’s defense, the room was nice and toasty in a curl-up-and-go-to-sleep kind of way. 

“But then I would’ve missed that cute little dramatic flourish of yours,” I retorted with a smile that belied the pain of my final farewell to Telis.  It pulled laughs from everyone but Max, though, so it was completely worth it.  We would have little enough to laugh about by the next day.

“Thin ice, Korin,” Max warned.  When he dropped back on all fours, I noticed the Reservoir on his back glowing dimly.  It looked like Max had started filling it while we were all out making our preparations.

Til’ leaned back from the table.  “Korin, don’t worry; it’s still warm in here.  You should feel how warm the dragons’ caves are in the Snowy Waste.  The weather can be freezing outside, but one step into the
cave, and it’s like summer.  You know, summers in Isaeron were . . .”

“Are the horses taken care of?” Max asked, speaking over Til’.  Til’ continued on as if we were all still paying attention. 

“Yes,” I answered succinctly, not trusting myself to hold back tears if I said more. 

“Then it seems you have all done a splendid job, even if some of us . . .” Max cast a lighthearted glare my way, “decided to drag our feet.  Now we should get some food and sleep.  We will need to get an early start tomorrow.”

“Didn’t we just eat about two hours ago?” Briscott questioned, scratching his beard.

I clapped Briscott’s back.  “You obviously still have a lot to learn about Max.”  I was smiling yet again, though fear continued to shred my insides. 

“If the town is attacked while we are sleeping, though . . .” Ithan began, letting his words trail off.  His voice was laced with fatigue.  We all felt the pull of sleep fighting our sense of responsibility to help protect the town and its remaining residents.

Max’s ears twitched sharply.  “Salmaea is ensuring that if any trouble arises within the town’s borders, we will be alerted.  If I am to reiterate the need for us to rest one more time . . .
”  Max let us fill in his threat on our own. 

Ithan held up his hands in placation.

“Even if we could help,” I added, “it would just be by adding a few extra bodies to the fight.  They already know what to expect from the undead and living troops.  Sal’s making sure that the signs of an eldrhim summoning are known by those keeping watch tonight and what to do in the case one is witnessed.  In the case that eldrhims are summoned from further away, there really is no specific tactic to take them down; all eldrhims are different.”

Briscott shook his head as he took a seat at the table.  “Loranis forbid anyone has to go up against any of those blighted creatures tonight.  I still can’t believe the blighted things are real, and I’ve seen them with my own eyes.”

Max held up his paws for quiet.  “More importantly, Til’ brought in more than enough food, so we should go ahead and make sure none goes to waste.” 

We all shared a meal, and our conversation turned to lighter topics.  Still, I found myself wanting to leave the confined space to gather my thoughts.  Also, I figured I could try to meet up with Sal’ before she returned to the house.  Given that even the thought of her helped to distract my troubled mind, having actual time alone with her would hopefully calm my nerves enough to allow me at least a little sleep. 

“I’m going to head out for a bit,” I told everyone, setting my shoulder bag on the floor next to a folded blanket that was supposed to later serve as my bed.  With most of Terafall’s survivors either put up in the larger of the remaining residences or being transported to the Wizard Academy, we had the benefit of being allowed the small house to ourselves.  There was one real bed, but I wanted to leave it for Sal’.  Out of all of us, she probably deserved it the most after all she’d been through.

Max eyed me dubiously. 

“I just need a little time to think.  Otherwise, I don’t think I’ll get any sleep tonight.”  Max’s expression didn’t change.  “Don’t worry, Max; I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“That would sure be a change,” Max replied, relaxing his gaze with a shrug.  “Before you go out, you need to try on the armor Ithan procured.” 

I did as Max requested, trying on a worn suit of leather armor that was reinforced with light plating.  It felt strange; I wasn’t used to the weight.  I pulled out my sword and took a couple practice swings to make sure I still had a full range of motion.  I did, and that was good enough for me.  The extra protection could very well be necessary the next day. 

So this is what I’ll die in
, I thought.  Given the blood staining it, I wouldn’t be the first to wear it to my death.

Max stared at me silently, his eyes filled with what looked like remorse.  I knew that even though he felt Raijom had to be stopped, he was scared for what I’d have to go through, what truths I’d discover.  He was scared that I’d be hurt or killed.  He was afraid of failing to protect me.  He wouldn’t voice those feelings, and I wouldn’t assuage his fears with words of assurance.  We’d accepted our path.  We’d accepted that we would do what had to be done.  Words would only make things worse.

After changing back out of the armor, I started for the door. 

“Try to haul Salmaea back here while you are out,” Max called behind me.  “She needs to rest more than any of us—even me.  Also, I will be setting up some minor wards around the outside of the house so that nothing can enter and kill us in our sleep . . . at least, not without us being alerted and ready for them.  You
should
be able to pass through the wards, but just in case, it will be better for you to have Salmaea with you.”

“What would happen if I set them off?”

Max stared at me silently for a moment.  Then, “You should just find Salmaea before you come back.”

“It would be a shame if after all this,
you
were the one to kill me,” I joked. 

Max just stared at me, his expression deadpan. 

I swallowed involuntarily.  “Okay, I’ll make sure Sal’ is with me.”

Chapter 49

A Night to Remember

Moments later, I was back in the cold, the clouded evening as dark as full nightfall.  The cutting wind prompted me to draw up my hood and tighten my cloak around me.  I pulled Saiyre’s ring out from my coin purse, Sal’ having returned it to me in case I needed to find her quickly.  I felt it tugging slightly towards the center of the town and set off in that direction.

The snowfall had thickened, burying the bloody reminders of the battle, save the heaps of bodies that had been piled to be burned.  There would be no digging of graves, or even a mass grave, with the hardened ground and the threat of a possible attack on the town.  The energy of burying the bodies would be better spent on preparing for the potential battle.

I took my time following the pull of the ring, attempting to let the cold air cleanse my head of troubled thoughts.  It didn’t work.  I couldn’t just brush aside the fear of an attack on Terafall during the night.  I couldn’t simply forget my concerns about flying on a dragon into a city where my father possibly ruled, a city filled with an entire army of Paigeans, Gualanians, enslaved, and undead.

And it wouldn’t only be
my
life on the line.  Almost everyone I cared about would be putting their lives at risk because of a prophecy—one that gave absolutely no indication that what we were doing was even right.  If not for that stupid prophecy, we wouldn’t be heading into Bherin—just a handful of people and dragons—to pit ourselves against a king and his entire army.  The very concept was insanity incarnate. 

Yet, that was exactly what we were planning to do. 

The ring jerked in my hand, snapping me from my worries.  Sal’ was standing not far ahead in a blue wizard robe, her hood raised.  Julus and two men in steel armor stood beside her.  Julus had a golden ball of light hovering above one of his hands, casting a reflective glow off the men’s armor and illuminating Sal’s weary face. 

As I approached, Sal’s attention fell on me.  For a brief moment, the weariness left her eyes, and her lips curved slightly.  She held up a hand to the armored man who’d been speaking, silencing him.  She turned to Julus and said something.  Julus responded with a fierce nod and a fist to his chest.  Sal’ gave him an appreciative embrace in return—maybe to reinforce that she was
not
his leader anymore—and swept away towards me. 

One of Sal’s hands went to her wicker case that was now hanging on leather strap threaded between her breasts.  She held her other hand palm up, a ball of light appearing over it. 

“We need to get away from here before they start asking me for more orders,” Sal’ sighed when she reached me.  She stopped just short of where I stood, close enough that I could’ve wrapped my arms around her.  The only thing that kept me from doing so was the uncertainty of how her fellow wizards would feel about it, especially when they’d still believe her to be betrothed to Saiyre.  “You’d think that they couldn’t do a thing on their own.  Maybe that’s just all men, though.” 

“You’re too cute when you’re exasperated for me to take offense to that,” I said, smiling. 

Sal’ responded with a roll of her eyes. 

“We could head back to the house,” I offered, gesturing back the way I’d come.  “Everyone else is already settled in.  Max said he’s going to put up some wards so nothing catches us unaware tonight.  That is, if he can stop eating long enough to do so.”

Sal’s melodic laugh and glimmering eyes lightened the mood.  She shook her head as her laughter faded.  “I was hoping we could take some time to talk.”  She glanced back at Julus and then leaned closer and whispered, “Alone.” 

The old Korin would’ve taken Sal’s words to be suggestive of something . . . well, more.  I’d been burned by assuming such before, though, and I knew that we had more important things we needed to deal with.  That, and Sal’ made me yearn for more than just a night under the blankets.  It would be nice to have some time to ourselves for once, even if just to talk; there’d always been an incessantly chattering Kolarin or sarcastic, fuzzy wizard nearby before.  Also, this could be the only night we’d ever get the chance. 

“Of course,” I answered, staring into Sal’s luminous eyes.  It was hard to believe that not long before, I’d viewed her as a crazy, pitiful excuse for a wizard.  I’d grown to learn that she was so much more than that.

“There’s a cellar at the blacksmith’s,” Sal’ explained, tugging my arm to follow her as she walked.  “One perk of the Wizard Guard being too stubborn to accept my resignation of leadership is that I’ve been ensured a safe and private place to sleep for the night.  The blacksmith’s kiln is supposedly down there, so it should be warm.”  Sal’ cast me a knowing look.  She’d obviously become accustomed to my dislike of cold weather.

“The Wizard Guard sure seems to respect you,” I remarked, remembering Sal’s admission that most at the Wizard Academy treated her with disdain due to her lack in magical skill, especially in relation to her parentage.

“They didn’t at first,” Sal’ answered quietly.  “My father sent me out with my own squadron solely a figurehead.  I was never even supposed to see battle; I was only to give reason for the Council to approve my Rank for propriety’s sake.  Gods forbid the next Grand Wizard be married to an un-Ranked wizard.” 

Sal’ came to a sudden stop, noticing that my face had dropped.  “Korin, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Saiyre.  I just . . . I just cared for you so much, and to be honest, before I was taken back to the Academy, I’d thought that maybe I could make a life with you.”  Sal’ looked away and started forward quickly, as if embarrassed by her admission.

“Sal’,” I called, hurrying to catch up.

“I should’ve told you everything,” Sal’ continued as I caught up.  “How I acted around you when I was betrothed to another was inappropriate.  I understand if you don’t—”

“Sal’, stop,” I said, stepping in front of her and drawing us to another halt.  “Are you going to go back to him?”

Sal’s eyes searched mine for a moment.  “No,” she answered without a trace of doubt.

“Then it doesn’t matter.  I love you.”  Those last three words were ones I’d once thought would never come from my mouth, but they felt more right than any I’d ever spoken before.  Still, a small part of me felt sorry for Saiyre—a very small part. 

Sal’ smiled up at me and started walking again.  “Saiyre probably doesn’t expect me to return anyway.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

“Didn’t you read my journal?”

“Of course not.”

Sal’ let out a guffaw that cut short when she saw I was serious.  “Oh.  You really didn’t read it?”

“I didn’t think I should.”

Sal’s arm slipped around my waist; apparently she didn’t care what the other wizards thought.  “That’s sweet of you.  I have a feeling that Saiyre knew exactly what would happen with us when he sent you to find me.”

I was taken aback.  “Then why did he help me?” 

“I told him you’d been named in a prophecy that hinted at you being the key to ending the war.”  The weight of the world climbed back atop my shoulders, digging in its vicious claws.  “He believed me and decided to help you.” 

“But why send me after you if he knew there were feelings between us?”

“Because he truly does love me,” Sal’ answered sadly.  “I’m assuming
he
did read my journal.  If so, he knows who my heart really belongs to.” 

Sal’s arm squeezed tighter as I placed mine around her shoulders.  The world took flight again, making me feel as light as a feather.

“Even if he didn’t read it, he had his suspicions about us.  I believe he wanted to make sure I was safe—to make sure I was happy.”  Her voice caught on her last word.  “And he was right to send you.  You saved me, and I
am
happy.” 

“Actually, Til’ saved you,” I countered playfully. 

Sal’ elbowed me in the stomach, hard enough to make me wonder whether or not she was being playful as well.  She smiled, though, and turned her gaze up to the cloudy evening sky.  “I wish you could see what I see,” she said softly.  “Hundreds, possibly thousands, of tiny tendrils, almost invisible, all stretching out above us towards Bherin.”

“Are you seeing the Links to the rocks’ Source?” I questioned.

Sal’ nodded.  “Their magic is beautiful, a translucent emerald, almost like your eyes.  It’s a shame they represent such evil.”  She sighed and lowered her gaze to the snowy street.

We arrived at the blacksmith’s, where two members of Sal’s squadron were standing guard.  Though they cast dubious glares at me, they didn’t question Sal’ about my presence.  With fists to their chests, they assured us that we’d remain safe through the night.  After a strict argument from Sal’, they reluctantly agreed to focus on more important matters than protecting their ex-General, especially when she had no plans of staying in the cellar the entire night.

With Sal’s ball of light, we found the stairs leading down to the cellar in the back of the abandoned smithy.  Sal’ extinguished her light as we stepped into the warm glow cast from the burning brick kiln.  A circular metal pipe rose from the top of the kiln and curved into the wall, likely depositing its smoke outside.  Still, the air in the room felt thick. 

Hammers, chisels, tongs, aprons, and bellows hung all along the blackened stone walls.  Two wooden quenching barrels sat beside the kiln, filled nearly to the brim with water.  Anvils, metal ore, and completed metal works were laid out on tables and shelves throughout the relatively small space.  In the center of the room, someone had placed a down mattress covered with blankets and pillows.  A plate filled with cheese and bread lay on the floor beside it, along with a tall metal pitcher of water. 

“They really have you taken care of down here,” I noted, taking off my cloak and draping it across an anvil.  I set my gloves beside it and held my hands before the kiln, enjoying the warmth on my skin.

Sal’ laid her wicker case on the floor and plopped backwards across the mattress.  She reached over the side to grab a piece of white cheese and shoved it in her mouth.  Her eyes closed as she chewed. 

“Maybe I should reconsider stepping down,” she said around the mouthful of cheese.  “After the past few days, I could use some more of this pampering.”  She flipped over onto her stomach and propped her chin on her hands, watching me.

I dropped my hands from the kiln and unbuckled my scabbard to lay it beside my cloak.  I walked over to the mattress and sat down, twisting around to rub Sal’s shoulders.  She moaned with pleasure, stirring my passions in ways I wasn’t sure she wanted to explore yet.  Even if this would be our last night together, I had no intentions of pushing anything.  Just being with her, knowing she loved
me, was all I needed.

Sal’ eventually pushed herself up and sat beside me.  Dropping her hood, she wrapped one arm around my back and leaned her head against my shoulder.  “Korin, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” I replied, leaning my head to rest against hers.

“I was so worried about you.  What happened after that night?” she asked, referring to the night she and Max had been taken from me.

“You tell me your story first; mine may take a while,” I answered with a wry chuckle.

Sal’ leaned back and looked into my eyes.  The orange glow from the kiln highlighted her beauty, a beauty that ran much deeper than her physical features. 
“Fair enough.  I’ve already told you that my father only sent me to Gualain to give the Council reason to award me Rank.”  Her upper lip twisted in disgust.  “Some from my squadron were elated to be kept from battle, but others felt cheated.  Most wished to do their part to help stop the war, yet my father robbed them of that chance.” 

There was a hate coating Sal’s words, like frost over a windowpane.  Sal’ had talked poorly of her father before, but I was getting the feeling that there was something darker to their relationship than I knew.

“And what did your mother think of his plan?” I asked.

Sal’s gaze dropped from me, and she took a deep, quaking breath.  “Korin, there’s so much I haven’t been completely honest with you about,” she admitted softly.

I lifted her chin and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead.  “It’s okay,” I told her.  “You can tell me anything.”

And she did.  Her mother was dead.  Her father was an abusive bastard.  As Sal’ spoke, my body heated with anger, and my muscles tightened.  This time, there was nothing unnatural about it. 

I couldn’t help but think about what Sal’ must’ve endured growing up, always being made to feel like she wasn’t good enough, struggling to live up to the lofty expectations thrust upon her.  I’d seen Sal’ prove herself to be an amazing wizard when around those who supported her, who believed in her.  It was
him
, his treatment of her, his physical and psychological abuse, that led to what was perceived to be her magical inadequacy.  Nehril Fellway was extremely fortunate that I had a war to concern myself with.

“Korin?”
Sal’ inquired, her voice unsteady.  I realized I was staring blankly at the wall, my jaw clenched so tightly that I was lucky to have not chipped a tooth or two.

I shook my head and tried to let go of my anger to focus on Sal’.  “I’m so sorry, Sal’.  You deserve so much better.”