The Last Heroes Before Judgement (38 page)

The sun’s revival was short lived. The warm reprieve lasted a generous eleven days, followed by the snow’s return. Two more months came and went, until the flurries were scattered enough to begin training safely. My skin had gone pale from the lack of exposure and my wide frame was whittled down for sustenance. When I finally sprinted up the serpentine again, my breath control proved much less capable of carrying me through to the finish.

“Starting over?”

“Yes sir. I’m so weak. It’s not fair.”

“Better than last year.”

“This time last year I was digging under a mountain with a hammer.”

“Ah, life on the surface. We have wind, and sunlight, and even soap.”

The extended cave living had taken strength from Major Swiftblade as well. Although, he was not upset about it the way I was. After stretching for quite some time, he left me to exercise on my own. His hunt lasted for days and he returned with both hinds of an elk, wearing a wide smile. The last snow turned to freezing rain. The fresh meat restored our strength. Dooza’s hens were able to roost in their covered cliff side abode. Eso would roam free for days with his wild cousins. The spring melt was fast approaching. The world- as I had come to know it- was slowly returning.

The snow drifts had been cut into by melting drops for long enough that aboveground rivers formed in the paths of least resistance. The constant burbling and rushing current allowed for a much deeper meditation. I was able to hold the Shaman position for hours. Distractions simply did not exist in the peaceful valley below Ram’s Peak. Until the rams began their migration south. The Lady Dooza had suggested the popping sound would be unquestionable, however, I had never heard such a thing before.

“Hello?”

I shook myself to wakefulness and checked all around the second tier. Another pop made me rush over the edge in an attempt to stop whatever monster from attacking our steed.

“Ha! Oh, sorry Eso.”

The valley was emptied of life on the rainy and dreary afternoon. Then, another pop scared a flock of birds in the north.

“Finally, the gods have sent another test.”

Without hesitation, I ran after the noise. The wall of giant boulders was obscured by the rainy fog. More popping. More sprinting. Then, one right behind me. The sight of the false threat did not make me dry heave- I full on vomited. The ram’s had continued their migratory pattern south against all odds. No matter how difficult the climb, they made it happen. Once on top of Giant’s Dam, they leapt off the east side down to their doom. Another almost landed on my head. I rolled away just in time to not be crushed, but, I was covered in splattered guts. Eighteen years and I never understood how all the goats and their cousins had been culled from the nation. When the secret was revealed, I pined for that lost ignorance. I had to roll around in the mud to get the burning stomach acids off of my skin. When my hands had stopped shaking from the horrific surprise, I sauntered back to base and grabbed the mercenary cart that once belonged to Shale.

“Dear boy, oh my.”

Dooza was ready to tease me, until she saw that I was already drenched in essence of ram.

“Now, you saw off those horns and bury them above the clay line.”

“Why?”

“You cannot feed the horn to the Drakkah. He will get a tummy ache.”

Her tone was serious, yet her cackle was delirious. For whatever reason, I followed her mad instructions. Sawing off the horns, one by one, I remembered that they had other uses. The effect of burying them would lead the tiny creatures of the soil to hollow them out for us humans. The reason most people carried their alcohol in the horn was because of its sturdy nature and cheap price. We had not had one since the day I was given the mark.

“Fitting. Put your poison in a container that screams of death. Seem’s to keep the children away well enough.”

That first day, nine rams leapt to their death. I could hear more calling to their mates from the other side of the wall. There were more pops as well, but, they were from the ram’s slamming their massive horns together in battle. When the sun was ready to go down, I pushed the cart back to base and called out, asking for directions. The Swiftblade had been cleaning off Eso in the stable- or just waiting to scare the piss out of Matthius.

“Hey.”

“Ah!”

“So scared, so jumpy.”

“These damn things have been trying to land on me all day.”

“Here, I think you will need this.”

“You’re not coming?”

“You need supervision?”

“No sir, I just don’t know the way.”

“Come now, that won’t stop you.”

Major Swiftblade placed the Drakkah Gauntlet System in Shale’s cart. He had previously disassembled and cleaned all of the moving parts. As was his way, he left me with the assemblies still broken down into component parts with not a lick of instruction on how to properly reassemble the damned thing. He smiled and mounted Eso. They rode east on the road without a weapon or even a saddle. Somewhere in the Lokah territory, the Drakkah statues were waiting for their sacrifice. Once again, I chased after the setting sun, pushing the cart through the tunnel as fast as I could. I had hoped that there would be a small sliver of sun left upon exiting the other side. I was wrong.

Mother Moon was a black disk hanging amongst the stars. Once through the tunnel, I had to reassemble the gauntlets by the weak glow of the northern lights. Strange colors played on the tiny metal parts. There were two slippery mirror copies of each assembly. Most people would not have known to thread the lightning flint though the two piece swiveling axle. Without a screw spinner, tightening the gauntlets onto the railing enhanced greaves was the hardest part. I had to use a rock to fully tighten the screws. Because each set of gauntlets was custom built to fit it’s one and only user, the Swiftblade’s gauntlets were much too long for my short arms. Still, I had little choice in the matter. I traded out my shell gauntlets for the iron ones. I much preferred a lack of covered fingers. I had no idea where to go. I found the trail used by the Lokah Seal Teams for training, and pushed north. Dropping my arms caused the smooth greaves to slide down my arms. I wanted to take them off until I got there, but I could hear the wolves howling in the distant darkness.

I pushed the cart north for what seemed like hours- due to the footpath not being made for travel by cart. Several times, I saw the shadow men. Ever out of plain view, they haunted the peripherals of my vision. I heard a twig snap too loudly and pointed the cannon towards the trees.

“Whoever you are, be it man or beast, I’m warning you. If I have to burn you with dragon fire, the Seals will be angry. You hear me?”

After a long pause, I felt silly. The trail split, and I headed east. I could see the profile of the Drakkah Monument. The statues had been crumbling for a decade. Age and weather were not alone in slowly destroying the ancient works of art. The Lokah, much like every other race that suffers the blight of abundant children, had torn the wing set off each one and turned them into lazy couches. The faces had all been drawn on and young lovers carved their names into the massive legs. However, the balancing scales wisely went untouched.

“Ha, silly Lokah. Never figured out the riddle, did you? The Seals are nothing to the Commandoes- we know how to read.”

“Is that so?”

“Aha!”

The Seal Team training sergeant was standing right behind me. I nearly blew him apart with the cannon, or rather, I nearly fired a shot well over his head. Once I realized that it was him, I snapped my boots together and saluted.

“Apologies sir. I am only here to deliver the sacrifice. I will leave no waste behind.”

“Always with this Sir? My title is Master Sergeant Zara-grast. Turtle Commando.”

He returned the salute and acted very kind. It made me suspicious.

“Now that we are friends, tell me of this special ability. We are but silly tree lovers with no scrolls. What does a written word tell you of this place?”

“I see many words written sir. I was drawing you out. I am sorry if you were offended.”

“You must be referring to the procession of the equinox. First the dragon, then the scales, and now the hydra. The Drakkah are from the lost age, the scales only just fell out of balance, and the Swillian fleet sets sail to rule the world. Do tell. What have I missed?”

My face burned red even in the darkness. Sergeant Zara-grast was not at all the fool he wished to portray. I did my best to change the subject.

“Your name sir. Does that also mean Monster Hunter? Like the Swiftblade?”

“Close. He who devours the soul of monsters from the underworld. Though, in your harsh tongue, there is a closer translation. Slayer of Demons. I have guarded these lands my whole life. Never before has anyone so much as suggested these Drakkah have any real purpose.”

“They do not. I am here to deliver the sacrifice- no more.”

“You are lying boy.”

“Sir, I cannot reveal anything in the presence of so many witnesses.”

“Oh? The gods are not allowed to see?”

He held his hands up and spun in a circle looking into the night sky.

“No sir. I hear too many dripping drops. And they are landing on seal skin boots.”

Sergeant Zara-grast whistled twice, signaling to his Seals to reveal themselves. A few of them snickered at the game we were playing- convinced that I would soon lose.

“Who are these people, sir?”

“The third wave this winter. I know, you Commandoes can’t keep up.”

“You will join the Chron in the spring? A little late for that.”

“Meanwhile, you petty grey skins send no one.”

“And yet, when you all sail away, the only thing protecting your border will be the little turtle and the real Monster Hunter.”

“You and I both know the Opa War Captain escaped your attack. You, little one, have no honor to bandy about.”

His troops went from laughing to egging on a fight. They moved out of the shadows, surrounding the cracked and crumbling dais.

“Sir, let me break this little man. I will teach him respect.”

“Allow me sir.”

“Please, back away. I am here to deliver the sacrifice.”

“You see? He is afraid.”

The trainees were getting bolder, making me anxious. The last thing I wanted to do was fight. I did not yet know if the gauntlets had even properly been reassembled. What if the metal rope that connected the parts was installed backwards? What if the fire ball blew back in my face?

“Don’t do anything brash Trenz. The boy is the very best the Lantos have to offer.”

“He cannot over power the Belutgrava.”

“Because he is only a boy.”

“I do not like his face. There is evil there.”

“Please, don’t make me hurt you.”

“You want to hurt me? I challenge you. Come now, fight me turtle of shame.”

“It’s not just the mark Trenz. You are speaking with the son of Gojinus.”

The mention of Swillian royalty was too much for the giant Lokah, Trenz, to properly handle. His eyes saw only spots, and his people dying of the pox. He rushed me without hesitation. The Swiftblade shot forth, but Trenz was not afraid. I had to use both hands to steady the mechanism, working the blade into a back spin. Once the lightning flint was engaged, the metallic screeching filled the small clearing. The rushing giant did not stop- until I fired the cannon. The ball of lightning carried the fire three times the height of the statues before spinning apart. Bits of fire and bright embers drifted away and to the ground. Thankfully, the entire forest was still wet with freezing rain. Trenz flicked his eyes back to Sergeant Zara-grast. He was laughing and clapping at the display.

“This- this is not a test?”

“No, not at all. However, Trenz just made Corporal. You see that? No hesitation. That’s what I want from my Seals. Now, Corporal, get back to the water and celebrate.”

“You heard him. Get your little flippers to the ice.”

Trenz barked excitedly, running around the clearing and forcing the others to shove off. Sergeant Zara-grast did not move. When all of his trainees were gone, he walked into the center of the dais. We could both feel a phoenix watching from somewhere nearby, but it did not intervene. While I moved the rams to their final resting place in the cups of the balancing scale, I could hear Kane sending a message.

“The council wishes me to show you our strength.”

“Excellent.”

“I see the damage in places, the way you won’t understand. Just, cover your mouth from the smoke and the gas.”

Zara-grast rolled his eyes. He placed one hand over his mouth and waved me on with the other. I shook my head and rolled my shoulders. The cannon slid into place perfectly, and I took one last deep breath. The Swiftblade spun heavy and cut some of my hair away. Then the screeching began, and continued. The ground shook, and bits of fire leaked out from all around the dais and the cracks in the Drakkah. The buildup of pressure took longer than I had seen it before. Then the cups revealed themselves as doubles, causing Sergeant Zara-grast to gasp and lay down under the smoke. The cups were turned to globes, the ice and rain to steam, and the rams inside turned to ash. When all was said and done, the little Lokah would never again question that the Lantos were his most powerful allies. I was still sweating and panting from the exercise when the phoenix leapt from the canopy. Kane roared and flailed its little tongue about like a mad goat. Zara-grast nodded, more impressed than anything.

“Very well, the statue can stay. However, it must be rebuilt.”

The phoenix nodded, and flew off back east. The Seal Corporal returned to ensure his master was not consumed by the fire. His Sergeant turned him into a steed, and they ran off together. I had to walk back, the long way, all alone. At least the cart was much lighter, and the trail over the foot path was already cut on the way in. When I made it back to base, the rain had started up again and I was too tired to climb to the second tier. So, I made friends with the pack rats, and slept.