The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal) (61 page)

He paused, reaching under the table to retrieve a crystal decanter of pale wine and a matching goblet.  After filling the goblet, he held it out to me, smirking at my silence.  He shrugged and took a sip, followed by a pleasurable sigh.

“If you have not yet had Gualainian spiced wine, you have not lived,” he laughed. 

All I could do was stare at him coldly while trying my damnedest to pretend my knee wasn’t stabbing daggers into me and that Sal’ wasn’t crumpled on the floor, the movement of her chest the only sign she still lived.

After a few more sips of wine, the man resumed his story.  “Lyrak, betrayed by the very ones who shared the same air as he within that chamber, took his anger out on the advisor he believed to shoulder the most blame for the betrayal.  He wanted the disloyal fiend to suffer a death deserving of a traitor; he wanted him to suffer. 

“Lyrak took the man by the throat and drew magic from his struggling body until his life was no more.  As the advisor took his final breath, Lyrak made a discovery, one that would change everything.”  The man’s wicked smile widened.

“Lyrak felt something alien as he sucked the life from the traitor.  He focused on that strange sensation and drew in the unfamiliar energy.  His mind immediately filled with possibilities for its use, of ways to reclaim his place in the world and regain his lost power.  With his hand still around his advisor’s neck, he released that newfound energy, and with its release, his advisor came back from death.  There was no soul in the rebirthed body, but it once again held life.” 

Though taken aback, I tried not to give the bastard the satisfaction of displaying my shock.  He was telling me the story of the first use of what Sal’ had called necromancy.  According to his story, negative energy was needed to raise the dead.  That meant that each of the undead had been raised through the murder of the living.  The sinister glow in the man’s eyes indicated that I hadn’t hidden my shock well enough. 

“The advisor’s body, once given soulless life, was feral, lashing out at everyone within the chamber,” he continued after another sip of wine.  “Lyrak allowed the creature to kill two of the others before putting him down, ensuring that those who still remained understood who really held the power amongst them.”

The man sat up straighter, a look of pure satisfaction settling on his face.  “Lyrak gained more than the ability to give the dead life, however—much more.  Let me take you back even further, millennia before recorded history, when Rizear strove to destroy Loranis for control of this world.”

“What is the point of this?” I asked acidly, my body trembling, just itching to beat the smile off the man’s face.

In response, the man tilted his gaze towards Sal’s motionless body.  “Must I explain the consequences your incivility will cause?  This is your final warning.”

The man’s words impelled me to bite my tongue.  My life wasn’t the only one on the line.  I couldn’t let myself forget that.

After a pointed moment of silence followed by a victorious smile, the man continued.  “Though Rizear was defeated, Loranis could not bring himself to fully destroy him.  That was his weakness, one that still plagues this world that he loved so dearly.  Loranis merely shattered Rizear’s essence, the ethereal form of the gods, casting the resultant fragments throughout the world and imprisoning each for eternity.  Loranis then sacrificed his own essence to ensure that Rizear’s would never again be whole.”

Okay, I’m going to have to pause here.  I’d never been a religious man and had never put much stock in the gods, not even Loranis, the god of all gods—the god who supposedly created everything known to mortal man.  Still, this man’s words had set me to thinking. 

With a shake of his head, the frail-looking man set his goblet down, circling its crystal rim with a finger.  “I find it amazing how people can look at the storms surrounding this land and trivialize them as nothing more than the fringes of their world.  The storms are merely created by the energy of something far more powerful.  No one has ever seen the true barriers that separate the lands of this world—the barriers that prevent Rizear’s essence from becoming whole.”

Sal’s and Max’s suspicions had been correct; the storms hid much more than anyone could’ve ever known.  My anger was replaced by fear as I started to piece together where the man was going with his story.

“What Loranis did not anticipate,” he continued, “was that each fragment of Rizear’s essence was cognizant, able to spend centuries upon centuries exploring their prisons, searching for any signs of weakness.  Eventually, tiny cracks were discovered, tiny conduits into Loranis’s creation.  The fragments of Rizear’s essence may not have been able to escape their imprisonment, but they were able to leak small portions of his power into the world. 

“Rizear’s power is one with death, so when Lyrak took his advisor’s life, a link was forged between him and the power bleeding from the essence fragment’s prison.  Through this link, the essence fragment formed a bond with Lyrak.  This bond allowed Rizear to speak into Lyrak’s mind, provoking him to siphon the power into the dead advisor.

“Each fragment of Rizear’s essence carries a certain aspect of his power.  The fragment imprisoned here in Amirand carried the power to give life to the dead.  Lyrak simply introduced that power back into the world, and by doing so, he shattered the essence fragment’s prison.” 

The man’s head tilted down, his dark eyes glowing in the orb’s light, like a feral creature poised to attack.  “The released essence fragment followed the bond between it and Lyrak, taking residence within his body.  Lyrak was granted immortality and the power to give life to the dead.”  The man’s lips curved upwards as he settled back in his chair.

Icy cold washed through my body, numbing my pain but drawing my panic to a frightening crescendo.  My lips were dry, my breathing labored.  Sitting before me was no mere man; this was King Lyrak Es’Tal himself, a wizard turned demigod carrying a portion of Rizear’s essence within him.  I wished I could dismiss the man’s rattling as insane banter, nothing more than the words of a madman.  But deep inside, I knew he told the truth. 

Chapter 55

The Pain of Hitting Bottom

Okay, so things were a bit more complicated than I’d thought.  I wasn’t just up against a run-of-the-mill sorcerer or my father; I was up against a damned god in the body of a thousand-year-old, believed-to-be-dead wizard.  The sheer impossibility of it all sent my mind reeling, threatening to break me down then and there.  Not even my lacking religious beliefs softened the blow of Lyrak’s words.

Lyrak pushed himself up from the table, placing his hands behind his back.  “I can see in your eyes that you have pieced everything together.  I am Lyrak, the once and always king of Gualain.  I am also a vessel for Rizear’s power, tasked with discovering a means of reuniting his fragmented essence.”

Lyrak circled around the table, his movements sinuous like a snake.  As he slid behind me, he put a bony hand on my shoulder, his fingers curling into a light grip.  My neck tightened to the point that I wouldn’t have been surprised if my head had popped off. 

“I tasked my remaining men to dig us out from the cavern.  Fearful of my power, they dutifully complied.  Their efforts led to the discovery of a green crystal, one unfamiliar to me.  Rizear spoke to me then, telling me of the crystal’s rarity, a product of the perfect combination of pressure, temperature, and minerals only found within that very cavern.  He whispered of fate and how it had brought me to the crystal.  He filled my head with ideas—brilliant ideas—that would allow me to complete what I had begun in the Power Wars.

“At Rizear’s behest, I Linked all traces of the crystal to a shard of the original.  Between the rarity of the crystal and my newfound power, creating the Link was simple.  The fragment of Rizear’s essence within me negated the need to draw magic energy from outside sources.  Power greater than any wizard, the power of a god, had become a part of my being.”

Lyrak’s hand slid from my shoulder as he moved towards Sal’.  He crouched beside her, sweeping a strand of hair from her face with a skeletal finger.  Sal’ let out a raspy moan.  I wanted nothing more than to break from my bonds and choke the life out of Lyrak for the lecherous gleam in his eyes.  Sadly, I was powerless to do so. 

Lyrak looked back to me, an expression of grim satisfaction settling on his features as he met my eyes.  “You love her, do you not?” 

I answered him with a murderous glare.

“So I thought.  Such weakness will make this more enjoyable,” he answered, the look in his eyes promising his dark intentions. 

I growled as I fought to free my hands from the binding rope, succeeding only in sending waves of pain ripping through my body. 

Lyrak stood, observing my futile actions with silent pleasure.  After I let out a final frustrated scream, he continued.  “With the Source crystal as a foundation, I used my new power to create an improved form of Contract, one that would immediately enslave the bearer’s will to my own.  The Link allowed me to transmit the spell throughout all of the rare green crystals buried within the rock of the cavern.  I believe you have had the pleasure of experiencing the resultant creation.”  He tapped a finger against my sternum.  Though the wound had long since been healed, pain lanced through my chest as if the stone had still been embedded in it. 

“Using the Link, I located more of the crystals to test on my traitorous retinue,” he continued, stepping back behind the table.  His lips curled in malicious glee as he eased back into his chair.  “Not all were willing, of course, but none could withstand my power.  Half did not survive the process.  The other half proved the power of my spell to be even greater than I had anticipated, following not only my every spoken word, but even my very thoughts when projected through the Source crystal.” 

Lyrak fingered the rock hanging from his neck.  “Unfortunately, with the deaths, I lost half of the resources that I had been using to escape the entombed cavern.  However, Rizear generously whispered to me once more, providing me with a solution for rectifying that loss.

“He assured me that the crystals would grant me control over even those bestowed soulless life.  There was no reason to keep the others alive when they would serve me just as readily in death.  Alive, they would only accelerate the consumption of our meager stores.  Those who still lived died by my hand that very night.”

Lyrak leaned forward, his sinister eyes reflecting the glow of the lighted orb before him.  “Harnassing Rizear’s power through their deaths, I gave soulless life to each of my betrayers, the crystals giving me complete control over them as promised.  The crystals replaced their souls, thus I named them Soul Crystals.”  Lyrak broke into a gale of grating, insanity-laden laughter.  “They couldn’t even fight against me with the Soul Crystals in their chests,” Lyrak choked between laughs. 

Lyrak’s laughter died, but his eyes still gleamed with sadistic delight.  “It took me the greater part of a year, but I finally escaped my prison, as surely as Rizear’s essence fragment within me had escaped its own.  During that time, Amirand had greatly changed.  The Power Wars had ended.  Dragons had been banished to the northern Wastes.  My kingdom had been unjustly stripped of both land and power.  I was tempted to simply reclaim my rule, to restore my kingdom’s glory, but I now had greater ambitions to pursue.” 

Lyrak leaned back in his chair, rhythmically rapping his pointed fingernails on its arms.  “Rizear whispered promises of bestowing me with supreme rule over Loranis’s creation in exchange for releasing his remaining essence fragments, thereby allowing myself to become the vessel for his full power.  And so, I devoted my every waking moment to finding a way to breach Loranis’s barriers and liberate the other essence fragments.  Nothing else mattered. 

“After centuries of failure, the time seeming a mere handful of years in my immortality, Rizear altered his request of me.  No longer was I to focus on bringing his essence back to its full power.”  Lyrak gave me a smile could’ve been used to oil leather.  “Instead, I was to make Amirand bow to me.”

Something changed in Lyrak’s eyes, as if they were no longer his own.  “Athough Loranis no longer lives, his essence is present in each and every life in this world.  Control over those lives means control over Loranis himself.  And so, if I cannot have his entire world, I will take what I can of it.”  Lyrak’s last words came out as two separate voices, one his own, the other a harsh, guttural growl. 

My heart skipped a beat or two . . . or three.  I was fairly certain that I’d just heard the voice of a god spoken through Lyrak.  I probably should’ve been scared to the point of insanity, much as Harken had.  Instead, I somehow found my voice.  “And where do Raijom and I fit into this?”

Lyrak scraped his nails down the chair’s arms, his eyes narrowing.  “Yes, let us speak of he who foolishly believes himself entitled to Rizear’s favor,” he rasped, his voice his own once more.  Given his acerbic tone, he didn’t think highly of Raijom.  “Raijom’s body houses another of Rizear’s essence fragments, one which was freed upon his first eldrhim summoning.”

Cold realization seeped into my mind.  Assuming Lyrak’s words were true, Max’s description of Raijom’s sudden change years before made complete sense.  Raijom’s discovery and use of negative energy would’ve provided Rizear a conduit through which to corrupt the man who’d once been my father’s trusted advisor.  The man who’d once been Max’s friend. 

Lyrak’s lips twisted into a villainous snarl.  “Where I had failed, Raijom succeeded in crafting a method of traversing Loranis’s barriers.  Unfortunately, having Rizear’s essence bonded with our souls, Loranis’s accursed power prohibits us from using Raijom's gateways, keeping us both trapped within our respective lands.

Lyrak’s jaw tightened, his teeth audibly grinding.  “Raijom believes that his creation of the gateways, along with possessing control of an entire empire, entitles him to be the final vessel for Rizear’s return.  His motivation for assisting me in the war here has been nothing more than a means of placing me in his debt.”  Lyrak slammed his fist against the table, sending several books sliding to the floor and making my sword totter.

I sat silently, stunned.  Raijom was claiming control of Paigea.  What had he done to my father to allow him to make such a claim?  With all the questions and emotions compounding in my head, I expected it to explode at any moment.

Lyrak took a deep breath through his nose.  “But I get ahead of myself,” he sighed, lifting his hand from the table.  “Free from the caverns, I bided my time, raising a small army of soulless minions to mine every Soul Crystal in existence.  Over the course of more centuries—I lost track of the true number of years—I had every Soul Crystal within my grasp.  I used them to expand my undead army, the very army that I would use to reclaim Gualain’s throne and incite a war to bring the whole of Amirand under my rule.”

Lyrak’s hands began to clench and unclench, a scowl spreading on his face.  “And then the day came when I felt a pull created by the release of another of Rizear’s essence fragments.  Raijom, similarly drawn to me, somehow used the connection between the essence fragments to make a gateway linking our two lands.  Unable to use the gateway himself, Raijom sent emissaries to establish contact with me.  For years we communicated thus, planning on how to bring the whole of the world under Rizear’s rule.”

Leaning forward, Lyrak’s eyes bore into mine, his wicked smile returning.  “You should be proud, Ingran.  Your father has become the symbol we will use to bring Amirand under unified rule.”

I made to question what Lyrak meant, but a growl was all that escaped my throat. 

Lyrak chuckled, seemingly amused by my anger.  “Paigean soldiers follow my every order under the belief that
I
am Galvin Lemweir.  They fight to deliver Amirand to me without question.  Once Loranis’s barriers are destroyed, the armies of both lands will unite under the command of a common ruler to conquer the next land.  Eventually, all the lands will fall under the rule of one entity in this fashion, giving Rizear unquestioned control of this world.  Your father’s image will be used to represent a god.  The world will bow before Rizear and never even know it.  There is no greater pain—no greater insult—that could be inflicted upon Loranis and his creation.”

My eyes stung, but I couldn’t make myself blink.  My throat was raw, but I couldn’t make myself swallow.  Hell, my lungs burned, and I could barely even make myself breathe.  Rizear would control the entire world using the face of the man who’d sired me.  It wasn’t an easy concept to wrap my head around.

Lyrak lifted the wine goblet to his lips, smirking as he took another sip.  He leaned back as he set the goblet back on the table.  “My problem is that Raijom intends to claim that rule, and until now, he was poised to stake that claim.  But now I have you.  Strangely, Raijom is threatened by your existence.  Prophets can be so paranoid, no?”  I really had to bite my tongue on that one.

“Raijom should have killed you when he had the chance.  Instead, he wished to retain your father’s trust until he could work out a way to use him.  Now, due to his foolishness, Raijom will bend to
my
will. 
I
will be the one to hold the ultimate power once the barriers are brought down. 
I
will rule this world.”  This was followed by more maniacal laughter in true cliché villain fashion, just like in stories told to children.

“Why are you telling me all of this?”I asked weakly, my anger having long ebbed into a sense of pure hopelessness.

“Because,” he grinned, “I enjoy watching souls slowly spiral into the cold embrace of despair.”  He lifted a hand, gesturing towards where Harken was hidden in darkness, whimpering.  “And since you must be kept alive to be of any use to me, I have the opportunity to deliver you a fate worse than death.  Whether you realize it or not, my words have weakened your soul.  Once you witness what I have planned for your beloved here, it will completely shatter.  Tell me, what do you think about that?”

What did I think?  I thought that if I were capable, I’d rip his head from his shoulders with my bare hands.  Instead, though, I answered, “I think you’re a Saris-blooded lunatic.” 
Saris is the god of monologues.  Don’t believe me?  Look it up.

Lyrak laughed.  “Defiant until the end, I see.  After I have spoken with Raijom’s emissary, we will see what we can do about that.”

From behind me, a series of booming knocks sounded on the iron-banded door.  I reflexively turned to the sound of the noise, and when I looked back, the image of my father was standing behind the table again.

“It is too early for Raijom’s calling,” Lyrak spoke with my father’s voice.  “Some of your friends must have been unfortunate enough to survive their fall.”  A smile spread across his face—my father’s face.  He made his way over to me, grabbing the back of my chair to turn me towards the door.  My left foot dragged across the floor, tearing a scream from my lungs. 

Lyrak lifted his hand, a small ball of light forming above it.  With a flick of his wrist, the light floated across the room, growing brighter as it came to a stop just above the door. 

“You may enter,” he commanded while clasping the crystal at his neck.

The door swung open heavily, Lyrak’s light brightly illuminating what was on the other side.  I suddenly felt as if my heart had been beaten with a hammer, dipped in lye, burned by dragon fire, and then chewed by a hornbear.  Since my capture, I’d held the tiniest sliver of hope that Max had lived and would find a way to save Sal’ and me.  Max had always found a way to save me.  Always.