Year 42
Caleb burst through the entrance of his chambers, letting the heavy stone doors slam shut behind him. He didn’t have much time.
They’d be coming for him soon.
He strode down the small steps leading into the room. The golden trim of his dark blue robe flowing behind his ankles, as his eyes frantically scanned the room. His chambers, like the rest of the villa, were largely carved into the face of the mountain, making the room almost seem like a cave. The walls and floors were made of squarely cut stone, while the ceiling was low and kept a more natural arch. Support beams jutted across the curved stone overhead, putting several ribbed indents into the top of the room.
On his left, a large hearth kept a fire burning against the cool mountain air. A massive, four-poster bed was pressed onto the adjacent wall with a large trunk at its base. Next to the bed on the far wall was a dark wooden desk, littered with open texts and loose papers. Bookshelves lined the wall on the right except for a small archway at the far end. There, the opening led out onto a wide balcony with a perfect view of Dargas: his city, his home. Just because the room looked like a cave didn’t mean it couldn’t be lavish.
These were still the King’s chambers after all.
Boots were thundering outside the Royal Villa’s walls, as Warriors filled the streets. This would be their final stand. Caleb had always admired their sense of duty. He’d seen it drive men to save lives more than a few times, but it wouldn’t help them today. Soldiers were used in the realm of men. They fought armies, nations, and Kings.
They weren’t meant for fighting demons.
That was what these people had become, and now they were bearing down on the city. Monsters like that lived in the realm of sorcery and the arcane. In the realm of magic. Only magic stood a chance against something from there. Only magic could save his people. He just needed to find it. His eyes fell back on the bookshelves. Caleb knew mages were always scribbling down runes for their spells. It was as good a place as any to start.
He raced over to the shelves. Sweat dripping down his face as danger loomed at the edge of his nerves. One after another Caleb pulled books down, flipping through their pages before tossing them aside. He was just looking for something, anything, that caught his eye. After all, how was he supposed to know what a spell looked like? He sucked his teeth. Damn that mage and his cryptic instructions, Caleb cursed to himself.
Knowing you needed magic was one thing, but finding it was easier said than done. It wasn’t as simple as waving your hands and uttering some words. It was buried beneath ancient runes and decades of near-forgotten history. It could take years to uncover how to perform even the most basic spell. It’s why being a mage was a lifetime profession, and why so few ever bothered with it.
Well, that and the shame it would bring.
It was no secret that magic had its uses, but it was a dark and twisted thing. There was an old saying about it, perhaps the oldest there was, that all his people knew well. Magic could get you what you wanted but the price would be high, it was always paid in blood, and no matter what you were looking for, it wouldn’t be the same when you found it.
Caleb gritted his teeth as he tossed a book aside.
They’d done everything, sacrificed their homeland, all in the hope that they might ward the Amarians off, but it hadn’t worked. Nothing could, nothing but the mage. The biggest victory in this war had come from him, but so did all our losses, Caleb grumbled in his mind. That mage was the last among his people, but Caleb just couldn’t trust him. Not anymore. So many died in the battle, he thought to himself. All because he had to kill her… and now look where we are.
Caleb shook his head. He couldn’t let himself feel regret. He wouldn’t. Not after what the mage had done. All that bloodshed… and for what? Hiding away here had changed nothing. The mage had promised a weapon that would end this war once and for all, but where was it? Who knows! The mage wanted to be vague. ‘It’s in your room’, he’d said. ‘You just need to find it.’ That was it. That was all he was told.
What kind of weapon was it? Just a weapon. How would he know where to look? He’d know it when he saw it. Caleb scoffed as he tossed another book aside. That man was just a conceited box of riddles. Caleb couldn’t even bring himself to speak his name. Traitors didn’t deserve that respect.
He slammed another book shut.
Traitor or not, Caleb knew he needed him, and that’s what stung most of all. Anger was seething inside him now. Like fire burning in his veins. Any other day he’d try to bottle it down, but today was not that day.
“This is pointless!” Caleb finally said, throwing the shelf down and sending books tumbling onto the floor. Why was he stuck playing these pointless games? Wasting precious time entertaining a traitor’s whims? I should’ve just had the Warriors wring his neck and squeeze the answers from his throat!
He paused. He’d surprised even himself with that thought.
Had he always been this violent? This rash? He stared into his shaking palms. No, not always. He’d been a patient man once. A man whose kindness had earned him the adoration of his people. He sighed. No, he hadn’t always been like this. This anger was new. It wasn’t like an emotion he would feel, but something dark that controlled him. There were days now when his anger would take over, and he wasn’t sure if it would let him go again. His hands tightened into fists. It was only after he’d met the mage that this began. All of this was because of him.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let his anger vent away. Until the Amarians were dealt with, the mage was still needed. He’d have to control himself.
For now.
He opened his eyes. It wouldn’t do any good to keep him around if he couldn’t find this weapon. He looked around the room again until his eyes fell on the wooden desk. Suddenly, something sparked inside him. It was too faint to be certainty, but it was something. He thought back to the mage’s words. I’ll know it when I see it. He smiled. This is it!
With frantic breaths he dashed over to the desk and threw open the top drawer, clawing through the clutter inside before tossing it onto the floor. He kept going until the space was empty. There was nothing there. He paused. It’s not here? His stomach turned in a familiar knot, but he shook off the feeling. It would be here. He just had to keep looking. He went to the next drawer, digging through the mess and tossing it aside until his fingers scraped along the bottom panel. His smile started to fade.
“No, no, no…” He said, as he tore open the last drawer.
He begged and pleaded as he clawed through the cluttered space, and could only stare in horror as he came up empty again. He sunk down, pulling at his hair as he felt sweat dampen his robe. No, this can’t be right, it has to be here!
He sprung up and started searching the top of the desk, scrambling to sift through the clutter. His hands were trembling. They flailed across the wood, shoving books aside and papers into the air, until the frenzy knocked over an inkwell. He cursed to himself, pulling away as the black pool spread across the desk. He grabbed his shaking hand. Just calm down, he thought to himself, but it did nothing to quell his fear. He was panting now, as his heartbeat raced. Just calm down. He wanted the words to give him courage, he needed them to, but they were just words. He looked back at his hand.
It was still shaking.
“Damn it!” He said, sweeping his arms across the desk and knocking the clutter onto the ground. Why wasn’t it here? It was supposed to be here! He let out a scream as he beat his fist against the wood, until a voice spoke in his head. The one voice he didn’t need to hear right now. What a shame, the mage said, and that was such a good guess too. But why are you so upset? It’s not like that’s really what you wanted to know. Caleb tightened his fist, gritting his teeth as he let his head sag onto the desk. He should be angry, he wanted to be angry, but regret came to him first. Tears streamed down his face as he resigned himself to the truth. To the one question he’d been too scared to ask. Why did it have to come to this?
A scream outside his balcony tore him out of his thoughts. He stood there horrified as one after another the sounds of a dying city echoed across the stone walls. Soldiers shouting desperate orders, crowds of people arguing and fighting, glass breaking somewhere nearby, and a child crying alone. Dargas was descending into chaos and its people would suffer for it. His people would suffer for it. He felt his face twist into a scowl as guilt gnawed at his chest.
This happened because you were weak! The mage snapped in his head. In the final moments you ran away!
“We lost!” Caleb spat back. “You lost, and now we’re dying for it!”
Don’t blame me! You were happy to start this war! Happy to let them die if it meant you’d stay alive!
Caleb sucked his teeth. “I didn’t let them die!” He screamed. “You took them from me!”
The mage started to laugh. I took them? He said. Is that really what you believe?
“It’s not what I believe. It’s what I know. If it wasn’t for you my people—”
Your people? The mage scoffed. Your people? I’ve done more for our people than you could ever hope to achieve. I saved our way of life!
“Then why are so many dead!”
The mage laughed at that. And where were you when they died for our ambitions? Where were you when they suffered and bled?!
“Shut up!” Caleb screamed, as he shook his head and stumbled away from the desk.
That’s right, you were with me. Standing at my side. Counselor to the butcher.
“Shut up!”
No! The mage snapped. You wanted survival and this was the cost! You’re still the bond-holder! You can’t escape me, and I won’t let you look away from our hard choice! He let out a vengeful laugh. Come, see them again.
Caleb fell to his knees. His eyes went wild, rushing to the back of his head as the mage took control of his mind. Images of his people flashed through his thoughts. They were dying. Their bodies strewn across the barren mountain cliffs. Blood and sick oozing down the jagged rocks and seeping into the stone.
Can you see it now, Caleb?
He couldn’t answer. He could barely think. Anger and blood had stained his thoughts. He threw his hands up to his head as he held back a scream. Why did he have to see this? He’d already seen enough! Fire was burning in his veins, but the images only grew sharper. He could see their faces now. Men, women, and children. Even children! Their soft faces stained by the carnage. Their eyes hanging open. Lifeless and afraid.
Do you remember all the people who died for you?
“They died for you!” Caleb spat, his anger exploding. “You and your twisted magic killed them all!”
And that’s exactly what you wanted! The mage snapped back. How long are you going to keep lying to yourself?
“No, I’m not lying I—”
You knew this was going to happen.
“I didn’t—”
You knew people would die.
“You’re wrong—”
You knew! You knew, but you did it anyway, because you never wanted to protect them. You did this because you were scared!
“No!” Caleb said slamming his fists onto the floor. His fury finally took over. The rage burned within him, scorching away his inhibitions. This is what he wanted. He would find the mage and slaughter him. Rip him apart piece by piece and feed his entrails to the dogs! That would sate the Amarians! That’d end the war! He didn’t care what it cost! Nothing would stand in the way of his survival! Not even a few lives!
He paused.
What did I just say? He thought to himself.
His eyes went wide as he stared into his palms. The anger within him turned cold. His bitterness soured into anguish.
He was broken.
And there it is, the mage said. The truth. Caleb’s head sank as his tears dripped onto the floor. You want to know why you couldn’t find the weapon? Because you couldn’t accept yourself.
What I’ve created is more powerful than anything you’ve witnessed. It will change everything, but it can’t be wielded by just anyone. It takes a strong will, Caleb. The will to survive. No matter the cost.
“I… I want to live…” Caleb said. The King’s voice was nothing more than sobs and whispers now.
I know you do, the mage said. And now, I think you finally know that too. Now I think you’re ready. Go on and find your weapon.
Caleb brought himself to his feet. He could feel something in the room now, a presence drawing him toward it. It’s here, he thought to himself. He looked around the room one last time, his eyes lifeless and filled with tears. His gaze fell back on the balcony, lingering there as another scream tore through the city.
He turned away.
Why do you want this weapon so badly? A voice called out in his mind. It was different than the mage’s though. Deeper and more refined. Caleb shook his head.
“No more voices!” he said. “No more lectures! I’ve had enough!”
You will answer me, the voice said flatly. There was authority in its tone, like Caleb was just a child. Somehow he lost the urge to argue, but that didn’t mean he had to answer. Why should he? The mage would get rid of it in a moment.
That thought made him pause. Where was the mage? Couldn’t he hear this? Caleb waited to hear another of his snarky remarks. There was only silence.
We don’t need to worry about him, the voice said. His kind isn’t allowed in here. Caleb grabbed his head again, as a pain pulsed through it. No, not pain but… a ringing. Like a scream his mind couldn’t process. Don’t tell me you forgot who I am. Come on, Caleb, you're stronger than some twisted spell. I thought you wanted to be King!
Suddenly the ringing stopped and Caleb’s headache passed. He remembered now. He did know this voice.
It was his own.
Not the voice of the broken King, but the voice of who he was. The Caleb before Amarians and mages and magic. This was the voice of the good man. The kind man. The one who could protect his people. It was his pride.
Listen to me, the voice said. You cannot use that weapon.
“What’re you talking about?” Caleb shot back. “If I don’t use it I’ll die! All those people out there will die!”
Those people are already dead! They died as soon as you started letting some mage tell you what to do!
Caleb’s heart sank. “No, I can still save them—”
With what? Magic?! You think something as dark as that is meant for saving people? Come on Caleb, have you really forgotten? You know the saying. Magic is never free, it’s always paid for in blood, and no matter what you were looking for—
“… it won’t be the same when you get it.”
Now you understand, the voice said. This magic won’t save your people. It will break them.
Caleb stumbled back to the desk, barely catching himself as he fell over it. He let his head sag onto the wood.
“This… can’t be…”
If you do this, whoever survives after tonight will be cursed. Chained to this place as outcasts. They’ll never see beyond the peaks of the Niflheim Range. They’ll never see the land that bore them. A fate their children and their children’s children will share until our people starve away.
“Then… what am I supposed to do?”
Nothing. You’ve already failed.
Tears streamed down Caleb’s face.
Our people will die today, the voice said. You wanted to be a good King? Well, a King can’t live without his people. There’s only one path left for you to take. You know who you really are.
Caleb looked down into his hands. Catching the small puddles of tears left in his sorrow’s wake. He smiled.
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A wave of clarity suddenly washed over him. The answer was so simple.
He didn’t deserve to live.
Just then the mage’s voice popped back in his head. What just happened? He said. Why couldn’t I hear you?
“I finally figured it out mage,” Caleb said, laughing as more tears streamed down his face. “I know what I have to do.”
What are you talking about? The mage said, but Caleb had already turned to walk out of the room. You’re not going to leave. What? You think you have convictions? You can’t even say my name.
“If I do this you’ll be forgotten,” Caleb said. “Then no one will know your name.”
The mage snarled at that. No! he snapped. You can’t do this Caleb! You hear me? You can’t! You still have to— his words slowly started to fade, until at last the mage was silent. Caleb let out a sigh. He just wanted the chance to be a good man again, and now he knew it wasn’t too late. All he had to do was walk away. Just step outside the keep doors and face the end with his people. If he couldn’t live as a good man, he could at least try to die like one.
It’s more honor than you deserve for what you’ve done, he thought.
He’d nearly convinced himself to walk out the door, until he noticed the room begin to dim. Caleb paused. It was the middle of the afternoon. It shouldn’t have been getting dark. He felt a cold sweat drip down his brow as he turned to look out the window. Caleb’s face went pale.
Vala give me strength…
A black mass had… infected the Sun. Its light faded further, as the dark sick corrupted the celestial sphere. Caleb stared at the nightmare before him. The small bit of solace he’d found slipped away, as the sun’s light lost more ground. How is anyone supposed to fight this? He thought to himself, but it didn’t matter now. The city was filled with screams as the darkness finished its work, and the shadow of night enveloped Dargas.
A moment later there was a blinding flash of white and blue light from the sun. When it finally passed Caleb looked up, and what was left in the sky made him realize how powerless a King truly was.
What was once the sun was now a sphere twice its normal size. Despite how large it was; the noonday light had dimmed to about the brightness of the moon. Its thin, gentle rays of light were gone. Now a deep red-orange glow lit up the Earth. None of that, though, is what scared Caleb the most. It wasn’t a ball of light anymore. Now it looked like a hole filled with fire had opened up in the sky, and the flames were rushing out.
He stared at it in disbelief. How can this be real? He stood there, struggling to accept what he was seeing, until he heard the flames in his hearth start to sputter. He turned to face the fireplace. There was something off about it. The way the flames were moving seemed… unnatural. Every few seconds they would shake and distort, like a candle someone was struggling to blow out. Caleb stared at the fire, as a chill crept down his spine.
Oh no.
A near deafening roar erupted from the fireplace, like a tempest blowing straight onto the embers. Caleb fell to his knees and threw his hands over his ears. He looked at the hearth again, struggling to focus while the noise smothered his thoughts. The flames were thrashing in tall violent streaks against the stone, as if a gale had overtaken his hearth. Caleb focused on the air around him.
There was no wind.
The flames whipped from side to side, caught in a desperate struggle against the unseen storm. The fire grew more violent by the second. Its tall streaks beat against the hearth over and over, until the impossible happened. The flames cracked the stone.
Caleb’s eyes went wide. Was it his imagination? It could’ve been from the heat of the fire, but the cracks weren’t random. Where the streaks hit the stone it cracked, as if the flames were as solid as steel. The fire battered the stone, sending jagged marks up the wall until they’d almost reached the ceiling. To anyone else it must have sounded like the Earth was splitting open, but it was nothing compared to the roar from the hearth.
Thunderous didn’t even begin to describe the strength of what bore down on him. It was unbearably loud. The roar didn’t just reverberate through the room, it attacked him, as if something wanted to kill him with sound alone. It pierced through his mind, drowning his thoughts, his screams, even his sense of self in its wrath. In seconds all that was left in the room was noise and pain.
Caleb cried out. There’d be no redemption after all.
Go to the desk! The mage suddenly said. Caleb was shocked.
“How did you get back in my head?” He screamed against the noise.
There’s no time for that! The mage snapped back. Just hurry!
Caleb still didn’t trust the mage, but he knew he was right. This was no time to argue. He tried to race over to the desk but the noise was sapping his strength, and he only managed to stumble into its frame.
Stand up and listen! I’m going to teach you a spell to force that thing out.
“Why should I listen to you?” Caleb said. “You’re just trying to use me, that’s all this ever was!”
Because if you don’t, you’re going to die, the mage said. How important will your pride be as you’re burned alive?
Caleb paused. There’s no reason to be afraid, he thought to himself. Tell him you’d rather die than let him win! He mustered up some courage and turned to face the door again. I’m leav— another earth shattering boom erupted from the hearth. He nearly jumped out of his skin as he snapped toward the noise. The flames had sent another jagged crack up the wall that nearly reached the ceiling. He stared at it with sunken eyes and he knew the truth. His courage was gone.
He was a coward after all.
“Fine,” Caleb said after a moment. “Teach me the spell.”
Good, the mage said. First, you’ll need some blood.
“Right,” he said, grabbing a quill off the desk before readying to cut his palm.
No, the mage said suddenly. Not yours. Not yet. There’s a vial on the third row of the bookshelf.
Caleb gawked. “What?” He turned toward the shelf. “When did you— why?”
People always ask ‘why’ in the middle of the situation, the mage groaned. Just go get it.
Caleb groaned but obeyed, going to the shelf and feeling around until he found a small vial of blood. The mage rattled off his instructions and Caleb did his best to follow along, going to the desk and using his fingers to paint the blood onto a blank page. The design was a circle paired with runes he didn’t recognize, smaller ones along the edge and a larger one in the middle. As he dumped out the vial he realized there was a small stone inside too, matte black and dead.
“What is this?” Caleb asked, as he held up the blood-soaked stone.
The fruits of your sins, the mage said, and your salvation. Now we need your blood.
Caleb grabbed a loose quill and cut his palm with its tip. Put the stone in the center of the page, let your blood drip on top of the circle, then mark it with your thumb. Caleb obeyed. Now crumple it and toss it into the fire! The wall cracked again. Do it now, while his attention is divided! You have to force him out!
“Him?” Caleb asked, as he felt his skin turn cold. “Then… then he really came. Their King…”
Don’t act surprised, the mage said. You knew it was just a matter of time—
“Because of you!” Caleb spat back. “You did this! You killed her!”
We did! The mage shot back. Don’t act innocent now. We both played our parts then and lived. I did my job this time, now what will you do?
The roar from the hearth suddenly spiked as the flames pounded harder on the stone. He had to act. He raced back to the hearth, crumpled up the paper, and tossed it into the fire.
At first, nothing happened. The paper simply burned. As soon as the flames had finished their work they started… screaming. The fire began to change colors, turning from their normal orange glow into a bright purple. They nearly burst out of the hearth as their intensity exploded. Caleb was knocked back, shielding his face, until all at once the flames swirled together and sank back into their ashes. The screaming stopped, and Caleb dared to peak at the scene. Is it ov— A plume of smoke erupted from the hearth, filling the room and lashing Caleb’s lungs.
As the smoke began to clear he looked back at the fireplace. All that was left inside was a pile of ashes. You feel it now, don’t you? The mage asked. The power calling to you.
“Yes… I do,” Caleb said. He sat up and started moving on his hands and knees over to the hearth. As he drew closer to it he could hear something murmuring. Like whispers echoing through his mind.
He was kneeling over the ashes now. As he looked at them he could see something begin to reveal itself in the pile. It was a dark glass stone, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. He reached into the ashes with two hands and scooped it up. Looking closer he could see a purple light glowing, pulsing inside the stone. It was mesmerizing. He gently rolled the gem into one hand, using the other to rub its surface with his fingers, as shifted between smooth and jagged.
It was calling to him. He couldn’t understand the words but he could feel its intent. It wanted him to open the trunk by his bed. He stood up, still holding the stone in his hand, and walked over to the chest. With two firm clicks he undid its clasps and slowly opened it up.
He found what he was looking for.
Inside, sitting on top of his folded clothes, was a dagger unlike any other. The blade was not made of metal. Instead, it was forged from a black rock and what looked like dark violet glass. There was a discernible tip, but the rest of the blade was erratic. Almost like it had been broken off of a rock. The handle was wrapped in dark rags, except for where the blade and the handle met. There, the rags gave way to a small circular opening. An opening that looked just the right size for the stone.
He picked up the knife, holding it in one hand and the stone in the other. As the two drew closer together the knife began to change. Runes, just like the ones he’d drawn, began to appear etched in purple light along the handle. A violet mist began to rise out of the indents in its jagged form, as the glass began to glow. The whispers grew stronger. The stone wanted to be in the dagger. It needed to be.
Caleb held the gem in his fingers. Don’t fight it, the mage said. You know what you have to do. He swallowed, then began to lower the stone onto the dagger. Small streaks of purple lightning flashed between the stone and its setting. He brought them a bit closer until the stone was pulled from his hand, landing in its spot with a resounding clink. The runes and glass pulsed then came to life, gleaming now as moonlight does off the sea. Caleb marveled at the blade.
“Now, you have what you need,” Caleb said. “Now you can end this.”
Me? The mage said laughing. No, no, didn’t you hear me before? This is your weapon.
“Mine…” Caleb’s stomach dropped. “No I-I can’t.”
But you have to.
“Someone else will—”
No, they won’t. You’re the one who has to do this! You’re the only one he'll let get close.
“No I—”
You wanted to live, Caleb. This is the price. Now is your will strong enough?
Caleb scowled at those words, but then the door to his room suddenly burst open. He quickly tucked the blade inside his robe.
They’d finally come for him.
“Your Majesty!” two voices called out to him.
Standing in the doorway were Jedd and Gabor, his two personal bodyguards. Storied Warriors both, they were dressed in their standard uniform. A gambeson beneath iron plating, with dark pants and boots. Adorned proudly on the chest plate was the crest of his people, his culture, the crest of Magnus. A shield bearing crossed axes, with an eagle resting its wings over it from behind and bowing its head over the top.
Jedd was considered the best swordsmen in all of Dargas. His short-sword was in its scabbard attached to his waistband. He had a lean build, with short brown hair he neatly combed back, a clean-shaven face, and brown eyes. His face was normally stoic, but today even he couldn’t hide his fear.
Gabor was a giant of a man. He could barely bend down low enough to fit through the doorway. He had a full face with red hair he trimmed short at the side and a thick beard. Gabor didn’t carry a sword. Instead he held an axe in his hand that most men probably couldn’t hold with two. It had a long, curved edge with intricate markings along the blade. The hilt was made of a deep red wood and at its base was another metal piece with a spiked end.
“Are you all right, my lord?” Gabor asked. “We could hear you screaming on our way here.”
Caleb knew he couldn’t tell them the truth. Even if they believed him, they’d never forgive him. Another pang of guilt gripped his chest. I’m sorry, he thought to himself.
“Yes, I’m all right,” Caleb said. “The room just started to shake a bit.”
Both his guards looked around the room. At the cracks going up to the ceiling and the clutter on the floor. If either of them had something to say about it, they chose not to bring it up.
“Your Majesty, we need to get you out of here. Now.” Jedd said.
Caleb nodded, standing and following Jedd out the door while Gabor trailed behind. They raced down the torch lit hall of the villa. Normally, the stone walls could keep out the cacophony of city life, but Caleb could still hear some of the screams. The look on the two men’s faces said they heard them too.
“What’s going on out there?” Caleb asked.
Both men’s eyes drifted to the floor.
“It… it’s difficult to describe your Majesty,” Gabor said.
“Forgive me for speaking out of line, my lord,” Jedd cut in, “But you must promise us that no matter what happens you will not look at the sun.”
“I don’t understand,” Caleb said.
“I cannot explain it, but it is a matter of life and death,” Jedd said. “Please, your majesty, we need your word.”
Caleb had never seen so much fear in Jedd’s eyes.
“Alright. You have it,” Caleb said. He couldn’t bring himself to tell him he’d already seen it; but still he didn’t understand. Why was merely looking such a threat?
If the fire was what they were afraid of, then I’ve already taken care of it, he thought to himself.
Still, the look in the two men’s eyes gave him a bad feeling. He did his best to shake it off as they ran.
Eventually, the three men made it out of the hallway and into the main foyer of the villa. It was a large, open space. A long red carpet was going across the floor while several elaborate chandeliers were hanging in a line above them. To their left, a large wooden door was sealed shut. Keeping whatever was going on outside, outside. He hoped.
“Gabor!” Another voice called from the other side of the foyer.
Running toward them was a young man with long brown hair, soft eyes, and a clean-shaven face. He was dressed much the same as Jebb and Gabor. A gambeson beneath iron plating, with dark pants and boots. It, of course, didn’t bear the old Magnus crest. He was too young to be a true Warrior, Caleb would’ve been surprised if he was even 18, but who among their people didn’t aspire to join their ranks? To earn a chance to catch the great Vala’s eye, and earn a to join his legion in the next life? It was the greatest privilege to his people. Even in times like these.
“Arne! It’s good to see you lad!” Gabor called out to him. “What’s going on in the rest of the keep?”
“We’ve secured everyone else who was here into the dining hall,” the boy said as he kept running toward them.
“Excellent, you can come help us escort the King there,” Gabor said.
Arne was about to respond until he heard stone crumbling behind the three men, and saw a thin ray of sunlight enter the room. Caleb resisted the urge to turn around, but Arne began to raise his eyes toward the light.
“No boy! Don’t look!” Gabor shouted, dropping his axe and racing toward him, but he was already too late. Arne looked up into the light. As soon as he did his eyes went wide and his face twisted in horror. Caleb nearly buckled over as he watched what happened next.
Flames started coming from Arne.
He wasn’t catching on fire. The flames were sprouting from inside his body. First, his eyes started spitting out flames, then his nose, then his mouth, until fire was bursting out his skin and armor. It enveloped his whole body in a fierce blaze, until in an instant, it was gone. Arne’s body and clothes somehow came out unscathed as he started to fall. Gabor slid onto the ground, catching Arne just before he could hit the stone floor.
Jedd and Caleb raced over to them. Gabor’s mouth hung open as he sat on the ground holding Arne’s body. Caleb was shocked. The boy looked completely unharmed. He might have thought Arne was sleeping if not for his lifeless eyes hanging open.
“Gabor…” Jedd began, but he cut himself off. One look at Gabor’s face and he knew there were no words to make this right.
Gabor stood, holding Arne in his arms, and walked back over to where he’d dropped his axe before. He gently slung Arne over his shoulder, holding him steady with one hand while he picked up his axe with the other.
“Let’s hurry and get to the dining hall.” Gabor said at last.
Caleb and Jedd both looked at him, then Jedd turned to Caleb.
“Your Majesty?” Jedd asked.
Caleb paused.
What truly startled him wasn’t watching Arne fall. It wasn’t seeing Gabor’s face. It wasn’t even the thought of this happening to all his people. No, what truly frightened Caleb was one simple question.
Why didn’t that happen to me?
He’d looked at the sun too. Not just a crack in the wall where some of its light peaked through, but the whole sun. Why wasn’t he a lifeless body on the ground like Arne? Why did the fire come for him in the hearth instead? He didn’t know, and that’s what scared him the most. Caleb sucked his teeth. Listen to yourself! How long will you stay this selfish?! He looked back at Gabor one more time, before taking a deep breath and nodding to Jedd.
The three men took off down the foyer. They turned into another hallway, racing through the space in silence. Eventually Jedd spoke up.
“The dining hall should be just up here,” he said.
They turned around the corner in front of them. Caleb could see the entrance to the hall up ahead on the left wall, but the wooden doors that led to it were ajar.
“Those shouldn’t be open,” Gabor said.
Just as he finished that thought there was a scream and a flash of light from inside the room. A man’s body suddenly fell through the doors, hitting the floor. Caleb looked into the man’s eyes.
They were lifeless.
A moment later Caleb could hear metal boots making their way through the door. A knight strode out of the room looking down at the floor as he moved. Whoever it was had on a suit of full plate, with the helmet on, but their armor was strange. It almost looked… charred. There were black marks all along its surface. Even stranger was that it looked like it was still in a fire. It was radiating a deep red-orange glow, as if it was lying in a bed of hot embers. Small spurts of flame seemed to spit out of the joints when it moved. The faceguard on the helmet was up, but Caleb couldn’t get a clear look at who it was. The knight stopped and looked over at the three men, and Caleb’s face went pale.
There was no one inside.
Caleb was so dumb-struck he barely noticed Gabor placing Arne down behind him. He moved up past Jedd and Caleb with a cold look on his face. His grip tightened on his axe.
“You fucking demon!” Gabor shouted, as he charged at the knight.
It nodded its head, making the faceguard fall into place, and raised its left hand. The torches in the room all sputtered at once, then it closed its fist. Suddenly, all the fires on the torches were pulled into an orb as big as its chest above the knight’s hand. The small part of the hallway they were in was suddenly as bright as day, while the rest of it descended into darkness.
Gabor wasn’t fazed. His fury kept him focused. He raised up his axe, ready to swing, but as he drew close the knight opened its fist and brushed his hand to the side. The ball of fire lashed out at Gabor, forming a funnel shape and striking him in the head, like the fire had turned solid again.
The blow was massive. It sent the giant Gabor crashing against the wall and cracked the stone. The knight dropped his hand and the ball of fire returned to its original position in the air. It started walking toward Gabor.
Caleb was too stunned to speak. He turned to look at Jedd and saw a level of panic he never thought the stoic man could achieve.
“Gabor!” Jedd shouted, drawing his sword. He charged at the knight, but it didn’t even look at Jedd. It merely raised up its right hand and brushed it to the other wall. The fire lashed out again, burrowing into Jedd’s chest. He dropped his sword, spitting up blood as the fire knocked him up onto the wall. Then the knight held up its arm and opened its palm. The flames turned into shackles in response, pinning an unconscious Jedd against the wall by his wrists and ankles.
Blood was splattered on the stone by Gabor and running down his head. He glared at the knight, struggling to pick himself up, but he was too late. It was already in front of him. The knight raised its free hand up grabbing Gabor by the face. He screamed as fire erupted from his body, and consumed him the way it had done to Arne. Now, the knight began to make its way back over to Jedd, lowering its arm to bring Jedd to eye-level. It grabbed his face, and the fire consumed him.
It walked over to Jedd’s sword lying on the ground and picked it up. As soon as its hand grabbed the handle, the ball of fire swarmed into the blade. In a brilliant flash the iron turned a furious red, before its color faded and most of it turned to ash, falling away and leaving only a short, jagged edge. Then the sword began to glow anew, as fiery runes glistened along the blade. The light in the hall dimmed to a pale red-orange glow, radiating from the knight and its sword. It turned and started to make its way toward Caleb.
He felt his legs turn to jelly, as the knight took each step. Too stunned to speak, Caleb fell to his knees, his mouth gaped open. Tears were streaming down his face as the knight stood over him, until in one motion it grabbed Caleb by the shoulder and stabbed him through the chest.