Chapter 14
The Downs
The Shadow King. Atrum. Golbrucht. King of the Dark. A Fiend.
All synonymous. All words that at this point of Terrill’s tenure in Adversa, he had never expected to hear again. At least not in any capacity but his memories or those from Dimidia. Here he was, though, hearing what he had begun to suspect from all of their debates and conversation over what was to come next. In that instant, every encounter with Atrum throughout Adversa was brought into review.
How he had switched between the cold and callous boy using the Fiends as tools, to the one who asked him to find Lumen and go home.
The most notable occurrence had been the one on the Forsaken Hill, and Terrill had to question if that was the moment Atrum had decided to give in and accept his fate. Just like Lumen. They really were too similar. At least on the surface. Knowing who had hijacked Atrum’s body, though, Terrill chose to believe that the boy had taken a different route from his counterpart.
“Golbrucht…he was…he was just a fairy tale from Sayn!” Krysta said. She had let go of Lumen, shaking her head rapidly back and forth. At the table, Titus, Phillip and Ricardo continued looking lost but followed the conversation with interest, fully realizing for the first time how beyond their petty war this conflict had grown. “Or he was from…Dimidia. But you’re saying he’s a Fiend?”
“Born time and again to wreak havoc upon that small country. Is it any wonder they believed in the prophecy they were fed?” Alexander was tired of explaining further, his movements jittery, whether from his wounds or from some other pressing concern upon his mind. Terrill didn’t need to ask what. He could sense the shift in the earth, a threat growing that would cover Adversa. Krysta gave none of them the chance to think further on it.
“It’s…it’s not possible. He was… It was all…”
“Yes, it would seem strange for Golbrucht to target the world after spending so long in Sayn. But I’d imagine he used it as a testing ground for his experiments, all the way down to crafting his castle in Adversa, forcing the Chosen Ones through the rift that created him.” Alexander struck the floor a few more times with his staff, groaning with effort as he leaned upon it to stand. “I thought him sealed for many years, but Atrum’s body was the perfect vessel to transcend those bonds, and now he’s going after the Lifebloods. That is something I will not stand for!”
His condemnation of the Fiend that had caused so much pain triggered something. A black wind coursed through the room, one of the wind-readers floating above opening their eyes as they sensed something changing. The royals at the table were alarmed by this sudden development, as were Torry and Floyd, though they quickly returned to their theorizing.
“What do the winds say?” Titus called, drawing to his feet.
“The western Taro Downs. The shadow is emerging from there now, but we cannot get a read. It is too far for our winds to pierce.” Walter was done relaxing at this latest news, the growl returning to his lips.
“That knight…”
“And Atrum. Or Golbrucht. He said to come and meet him on Clupei, which is where these Taro Downs are,” Lumen informed them. Walter couldn’t care less, striding across the room to strike the table and draw both Phillip and Ricardo to him.
“The Phantom Knight. You can definitively claim he is not one of yours.” They shook their heads in earnest, though for the vengeance-driven hunter, Terrill wasn’t sure how much good it did. He, instead, decided to intervene.
“He’s under the enemy’s control, not Valorda or Invaria. Temper your rage, Walter. It’ll do you no favors for the battle ahead.” Walter’s withering glare did not cause him to relent. Terrill took the situation in hand, walking past Alexander and Walter to bring himself to stand upon the table. Each of his companions was reacting in a different way, but now was a time they needed to cast that aside. “The Shadow won’t stop forming until Golbrucht is finished in Adversa, so we need to cast him out and make sure he can’t return without abandoning the vessel he has in hand. Alexander, do you know of a way back to Dimidia?”
The older man raised an eyebrow, stroking at his beard with an absentminded expression. He seemed lost in his own reveries, but managed to respond to Terrill’s question with enough speed. “As I’ve said, the Lifebloods exist between both, and Golbrucht will wish to bring the Shadow into Dimidia to destroy the physical foundations of the Lifeblood. To that, I’d imagine he’ll use the Lifeblood of Darkness as a staging ground to pull himself through to the other side.”
“That would corrode the lanes, wouldn’t it? The act alone could rip the Lifebloods apart!” Torry said.
“Then we tear it to pieces and force Atrum through his own rift before then!” Terrill turned on the table, facing the rulers of the warring nations. They each sat up in their chairs, surprised at his sternness. “Your Majesty, Your Highness, I wish that we could stay and help you through negotiations, but this Shadow won’t wait for us to make peace. We’ll have to take it out ourselves.”
“Are you sure you have a force large enough for such a task?” Ricardo asked, his mind slowly picking up the pieces of what they were talking about. There was no doubt that the talk of the otherworld outright eluded the man, but he seemed to realize there was a threat on the rise, and that was good enough for him. “I would spare some soldiers, but until we can work out a treaty…”
“Oh, that’s okay, Your Highness. We’ll just steal some from you,” Floyd said. He threw his feet on the table with a wide grin, and the prince was taken aback by such a notion. Rolling his eyes, Terrill kicked the feet off.
“Still playing the part of a thief, huh?”
“It served us well,” the redhead replied. In lieu of his feet, the boy raised his hands behind his head. “Joking aside, some of your men from Sheeris and the soldiers you sent from Valorda are on a ship, ready and waiting. We convinced them to help, and I’m sure they’ll be willing for one more rondo.”
“I dare not ask what you did to ‘convince’ them to abandon their countries and simply trust you had all our best interests in mind,” Phillip interjected. The king’s gaze sought Terrill, and he held it, nodding to tell the man that they would do this to end the conflict in Adversa once and for all. “Very well. I don’t claim to know even half of what you were talking about, but as the ruling sovereign of Valorda, I will permit you to go forth with all our well-wishes and put an end to the conspiracy that drove us to war.”
“Ah, yes, myself as well!”
“The Fortress shall support you. I trust the Lifeblood is unharmed by the growing shadow?” Titus’s call to one of his men was met with swift response.
“Engineering reports it as normal, though no estimates on if it will remain that way.”
“Then, no time to lose. Krysta, Walter, Torry, Floyd, Lumen, we’ve all journeyed through Adversa together. Sometimes apart, but always striving for the same goal to avert war, stop the Shadow King and get home together. Now, he’s taking every single bit of despair, fear and hopelessness to tie it into an abomination that will tear the world apart. There won’t be a home to go back to if we don’t stop him now.” Terrill sucked in a breath, his eyes lingering on each of them in turn. “But we’re the only ones who have full knowledge of what he’s up to and how to stop him, because each of us has been Blessed by the Lifeblood, or can read the souls inside them. We have to do this, and I want all of you there with me.
“We’ll cleave the darkness, and return it to light!”
Not a one gave response, and Terrill started to feel like his speech was a bit too much. Or just downright embarrassing.
Floyd, in his usual way, assured him that wasn’t the case. “What? You really want to rely on a bunch of ragamuffins like us? I mean, what are we? An ambassador, a mayor’s daughter, some royal from another world, a hunter, a Guardian and random healer over here. No offense, Krysta.”
“Couldn’t ask for better.”
“It’ll be good enough to kill him.” Walter brought the mood down in an instant, the hunter storming from the atrium like a man possessed. Lumen watched after him, his head hung, before trudging himself. It was like watching a dirge, and not one that Terrill cared for.
Looking to find some hope, he turned to Alexander, the man breaking his contemplative stare. “What do you plan to do?”
“Oh, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be of much use in a fight, now. Too old, you see,” the man muttered. His eyes flitted around the room, down the halls to the Lifeblood, across Terrill and Krysta, and the direction of the Shadow to the west. “However, if that boy really does plan to rip the Lifebloods apart, I will need to conserve them. And should the worst come to pass, we will need the Lifeblood of Light to purify him in his entirety.”
“Wherever they are…” Krysta scoffed. She didn’t appear to want to be in the room anymore, dashing off after Lumen and Walter. Only Torry and Floyd didn’t rush off with something weighing on their mind, other than the reactions of their own companions, of course.
“Looking like a cheery journey!”
Terrill couldn’t agree less, and he jumped down from the table to follow the path to the outside. Torry and Floyd brought up his rear, conversing intensely amongst themselves as they did so, perhaps trying to discover more mysteries of the Lifebloods. Terrill had to hazard that Torry had learned something in Sheeris, but he was too focused to ask what. Even looking back, he couldn’t muster the ability to question her. All he saw was that Alexander had disappeared and deliberations had resumed around the table. He sighed and walked on, exiting the Wind Fortress to greet the coming dawn.
In the cold hours of the morning, the battlefield looked an even worse state, though the fighting had died down. Valorda had pulled back, patching a makeshift wall, while Invarian soldiers sat around campfires that were dwindling. Ships bobbed in the bay, their ringing cannonfire gone, but only one flagship that used to belonged to Warren was lit by more lanterns than Terrill could count. It was here that Floyd took the lead, ahead of Krysta and Walter to approach the ship.
“All right, my fellow deputy ambassadors, we make for Clupei and the Taro Downs! Do you guys know which way to go? Because I don’t!”
“Aye aye, Ambassador Margrove, we’ve got your back.”
Terrill felt the urge to rub his temples as he made his way on the ship. Had Floyd just gone and made them all ambassadors to appease them? The question was answered when Torry came onboard. Some sailors cowered, while others stared in admiration. Still others offered the girl a wide berth, perhaps a result of her incessant muttering and calculations she was running. Terrill let her continue on, spying Walter leaning against the general’s cabin with a twisted expression.
“Glare at the sea all you want, Walter, it won’t change it.” The hunter offered no response, except to reach up and touch his scar. At the front of the ship, Krysta had stood as she was wont to do, appreciating the sea breeze. Lumen had sequestered himself in a corner of the ship, as well, though by Terrill’s estimations, he was either seasick or still torn between what he needed to do. “Tell me, what’s Taro like?”
“Well, it never used to be called the Taro Downs. I’d suppose it got that name after the tragedy of twenty years ago,” Walter allowed himself to answer. It was the only time his eyes softened and his body relaxed. “A good, hardworking people who were farmers mostly, which was done on difficult land. In the shadow of the Abyssal Palace, the land could often grow barren, so they worked to avoid such things. Good people. Until he came through and slaughtered our home.”
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Walter pushed away from the wall, striding past Lumen to arrive at the upper deck. The ship had begun to move now, and Lumen clutched to his stomach, but his eyes never left Walter’s back. When he reined in his nausea, he spoke with a, “Charles would never do that. In all the time I knew him, he was a good, kind man.”
“Who condoned the barbaric practice of the Chosen One Festival,” Terrill said, waving away Lumen’s concerns. They weren’t unfounded, and it was obvious who had been pulling Charles’s strings, but that was a nugget he hadn’t settled within himself yet. “Can’t believe I ever wanted to be one…”
“Maybe that was something they tried to change?” Lumen suddenly paused, lifting off the edge of the ship to hurl over the side. When his vomit had dropped into the sea, Lumen turned his head back around, looking sicker than ever. “They wanted to clash, you and Atrum, and…”
“No. I don’t believe that.” Terrill kicked a bucket on the deck with the sun cresting over the horizon to bring daylight to the ship. “I don’t want to believe in a fate that requires people to die to save anyone. I don’t know why they considered me some hero to fight the Shadow King, but if I am, it’s something I chose on my own, not because some world’s flow demanded it of me.”
“I wish it were that easy for…mrph, me!” Lumen vomited once more, and Terrill counted that as done. The royal would clearly be holed up over the side of the boat for the rest of their journey, one that didn’t take long with Walter aiding the sailors via wind currents. He was more precise, but Terrill didn’t want to understand those implications.
Hoping to clear his head, Terrill took to exploring the deck of the extravagant ship. He hadn’t seen all that many of this caliber before, and could only imagine Ricardo’s ship was fancier, but the large-class vessel was a thing of beauty on the water and made good time from where they stood, the land that formed the continent of Clupei fast approaching thanks to the weathered veterans. The sailors were constantly busy, too, a far cry from any of his other voyages thus far where it was reduced to very few people to keep the ship going. Many of them jumped over whatever loose pails there were, and a great many more continued to give Torry and Floyd a wide berth as they huddled over their papers.
“No, no, that just doesn’t make sense!”
“Torry, you’ve scratched out your thoughts a thousand times. You’re not writing a thesis on this…” Floyd groaned, flopping on the deck but sitting up when he felt something crawl on his hair. “Well, not yet, at least.”
“I’m telling you, Floyd, look!” She thrust what looked to be a map into the boy’s face, but he pushed it away. “Each continent has a Lifeblood on it to regulate its main means of survival and climate. Heat for fire, the bounty of land stretched to Cordis and Sagitta, so on and so forth. So, where’s the Lifeblood of Light? We thought we found it at Priscus, but that was a bust. How is it we can find every single one but that?”
“I dunno, why don’t you ask it?” Floyd received a sharp slap for his troubles of that. “Yeowch. Why don’t you just rework it from the beginning? What do we know about Lifebloods?”
“They’re human souls? Or were. They’re also cryptic as heck! The Lifeblood of Water refused to say anything! Ooh, maybe that means they’re bound by some principle.”
“See, now we’re getting somewhere!”
“Oh, hush,” Torry said, pushing him lightly, but returning to her thesis. She only paused as a greater breeze brought the ship closer to Clupei, highlighting the dark haze that swirled overhead. There was no doubt this was the site of the final plan. “Wonder if she figured this all out on her own. What would she have done with it…?”
Torry’s lamentations were lost to the sea, borne on the breeze that carried them to Clupei. Terrill came to stand next to Krysta, who watched the mounting Shadow with greater concern. No words passed between them, but Terrill took her hand, squeezing it, despite how cold it was to hold. She appreciated the gesture without saying a word.
Midday came, the sun beating on the ship and highlighting the darkness and the flames to the west, but still they stood there, clasping tightly. To Terrill, he felt like he was promising her to keep standing there, to find her even when he returned home. To fulfill what he said back on Silicias: that he would free the Lifebloods. In her hands, Terrill heard her promise, too, to help him get back home, and to stop Golbrucht. Stop everything.
He looked at her, and the pain behind her eyes increased tenfold. Something about knowing Atrum was Golbrucht had changed her. Or was it that she had known but didn’t want to believe it? Her reaction to him during their escape from Invaria rose in Terrill’s mind, and he began to question everything about this girl who had helped him from the very moment he landed in Adversa. It was a niggling that possibly amounted to nothing, but there was too much coincidence in her change of demeanor. He opened his mouth.
“Does it scare you, Terrill?” He snapped it shut, waiting for her to continue. They were coming in on the shore now, and if Terrill squinted, he could swear to seeing smoke and fire on the small town where grassland used to sit, now replaced by the shadow that had eaten away the land. Adversa was falling apart. “Does it scare you to know that Golbrucht is alive? That the Chosen One Festival didn’t grant even a moment of peace? To know that all the work and sacrifice you put in meant nothing. That you couldn’t change a thing.”
“It sounds to me like you’re the one that’s scared, Krysta.” She wouldn’t deign to answer that. “I don’t know. Maybe a little. Most of me is just glad that I know what enemy I’m fighting, and that…that he’s not as twisted as I thought. That I can still save him.”
“You’re always so positive about saving people. Always looking to protect other people.” Krysta turned at the prow and Terrill backed up to see her give a dazzling smile, the sunlight illuminating all her features, as if she were a swan about to sing her last song. “For a long time, Terrill, I’ve loved that about you.
“And yet…I hate it about myself.”
“What are you-?”
“Taro Downs sighted!” called the sailor from the crow’s nest, ending the moment. Krysta walked past, looking like a woman going to war, taking the world on her shoulders.
“I won’t lose anyone else to my failures.”
He wanted to ask what she meant, but the river they diverted into, running towards the Taro Downs, indicated to Terrill the horror they were sailing into, and he could no longer spend his time thinking on Krysta. His immediate attention was taken by the smoke and flames that covered the small town of Taro. Plants were burning, and houses were alight. The people there were screaming, or at least those who weren’t trying to put out the fire were. It was terror, pure and simple, just on a smaller scale than the attempt with the war.
The entire scene was a horrific reflection of what Golbrucht had inflicted on Sayn time and time again. Terrill’s hands tightened into a fist and he struck the railing as the ship pulled to a halt.
Some people gathering water from the shores of the river were stunned at the ship rolling in, dropping their buckets into the tributary, while one returning from the burning village noticed someone who was already making his way off the ramp.
“Walter! Walter Jameson, is that you?!” The man tripped over his feet, running to where Walter was disembarking. He wasn’t alone, many of the people drawn to the name of the man who was returning home. They crowded the ship, each excited to see someone who had left their humble farming village. “Look at you. On a ship from the Invarian Navy. You look strong.”
“Hmph.” Walter’s dismissive scoff did nothing to deter the praise at his arrival and Terrill stopped at the edge of the ramp leading down. The hunter had paused with him, fire reflected in his eyes at the burning hometown he had returned to, darkening with every second. Walter soon asked the question Terrill knew was coming. “Was it him? Is he back?”
The low growl put a stop to any bit of admiration and jubilation, reminded of the sharp reality that was their homes burning. “We…we tried to stop him, but…”
“He burned every building. It was like…that night.”
Something was wrong, Terrill’s eyes narrowing.
That night. Walter had kept talking about that night, and the attack on Taro that had killed everyone he cared for. Yet he also said Charles was indisputably the Phantom Knight. None of the others appeared to notice this predicament growing in Terrill’s head, too busy rushing in to save the town. He didn’t blame them, but it didn’t sit right with him in the same way it hadn’t sat right with Lumen. The boy, himself, was the last off the boat, staring in horror before his eyes were torn upwards, across the farmland and hills to the obsidian palace that loomed over the continent. It was disturbingly just like another castle he knew, and Terrill swallowed, the fear growing thick around him.
Before he knew it, he had grabbed one of the soldiers, who looked to be barking orders to the men on deck. “Be ready for anything. And I mean anything.”
“S-sir!”
“Where is he?” Walter asked, taking hold of the man that had recognized him and beginning to shake him. “Where is the Phantom Knight?”
His question was cut off by a sudden scream, and the multitude of turning heads.
Terrill joined Walter in looking to where the shadows had grown thickest, circling like malevolent whispers. They were all joining to one spot of darkness that ruled over all, and Terrill knew what rested there, at the palace.
It wasn’t there that held the screams. Through the embers and particles of darkness, a shape could be seen, flickering with heat. A solitary figure stood, both blades out, and the remains of his armor like that of death. From his swords dripped blood, and at his feet lay villagers, their water pails discarded near their fallen bodies. The man who had called out to Walter backed away, and some near the port fell to their knees, crying out for Crea. Walter, however, had a snarl rise to his face, his hand rattling on his spear while he failed to restrain his fury.
Terrill joined his eyes with Krysta at this development, the girl watching the palace beyond the forest that served as a backdrop for Charles’s slaughter. Her look confirmed the site of the Lifeblood, but it was too late to stop what was next.
“All of you stay here and douse the fires. Leave him to me. I’ll skewer him in front of the whole town.” Walter parted the sea of people, each watching him go as their eyes shined, but still the fear mounted. Or the Shadow grew from something, and Terrill just didn’t have the sense to realize what it was. Walter’s every step was accompanied by a beleaguered breath, becoming more confident as his rage peaked. Charles looked up through the dark shadows, but Terrill could discern no features. “I made a promise to kill that bastard, for my family, and all of yours. Now he dares return to invite pain. I’ll see it returned tenfold. The bastard that slaughtered our town and laughed as he did it will die here and now!”
“Laughed?” Lumen said, stopping short at the end of the ramp as Terrill bumped into him. “Charles… He wouldn’t… In all the years I’ve known him, Charles has never laughed once. Not like this.”
It finally became clear.
“Walter, hang back,” Terrill ordered.
“No. This devil is mine!” Walter flew forward, parting the rest of the people as they fell aside, inconsequential in his single-minded thirst for revenge. Charles turned away, and now Terrill could see something, a beckoning smirk upon his face while he turned into the darkness that surrounded the palace. He bid Walter come.
No matter Terrill’s warning, the hunter followed. Worse yet, his all-consuming need sowed further seeds of despair to the townspeople as he was lost to rage. Terrill put a foot down, hoping to stop Walter, but he was far gone, simultaneously snuffing and fanning the flames as he pursued Charles into the shadow. His body was cloaked in wind, and amidst that wind was his own growing shadow, funneling into the air.
Fear. Loathing. Rage. Despair.
Every single negative emotion Golbrucht had wanted to harvest was now present in Taro, and everything was coalescing to that singular source inside the Abyssal Palace, at the other end of the burning woods.
Backup plan, Terrill thought with utmost horror. He wanted us here. He wanted this. And…
“Walter!” Terrill shouted before he could complete the most horrific of his thoughts, the one that spelled almost certain doom. The hunter refused to listen, Terrill’s calls lost in the crowd that found some sliver of hope to cling to, even if it was born and drowned in Walter’s own unceasing fury. “Walter, stop!”
He could no longer listen. His wind lifted him off the ground, and with the grin that had distorted his face but once before, Walter sped through the town, diving into the darkness. He vanished alongside Charles on the mighty chase to the top, bodies left in their wake.
It was wrong. All of it was wrong.
Because Charles wasn’t supposed to be here, so why, then, did Walter still know of him?
His stomach flipped, and Terrill turned to address Lumen, only to find the boy had gone racing after Walter. One quick glance was enough to see him ignoring the butchered and recovering townspeople as he jumped over flame to dash into the shadowy woods. Terrill cursed under his breath. “Damn it! Floyd, we need speed!”
“For what?”
“Floyd, just do it!” The redhead dropped whatever he was doing as Terrill ran for him. Torry and Krysta were both close by, kneeling over some wounded citizens, each eking shadows from Charles’s, or rather Golbrucht’s, attacks. While Torry grabbed Floyd in anticipation of what was next, Terrill had to drag Krysta along as Floyd’s body heated up. “Valordans, Invarians, put this town out and protect the people. There’s no telling what will happen up there. If it’s stabilized, move some men towards the forest. He’ll be waiting for us there…”
On Terrill’s command, Floyd didn’t wait for the soldiers to respond. His body sparked and steamed, heating up with the fires, and then he shot for the forest that led to the palace. Racing by the burning houses and screaming victims, the sickness inside continued to increase. All of it was on purpose. Atrum…no, Golbrucht had played his game masterfully, even with missteps.
Terrill knew it hadn’t been over.
“The Lifeblood… It…it calls…” Krysta cried out, her available hand clutching her chest. She looked like she wanted to scream, and Terrill wanted to scream with her, to tell both Walter and Lumen to stop. To tell them that engaging Charles with their misery and despair would only lead to further ruin. They had to stop them, but Terrill squeezed on Krysta’s hand. “It hurts so much. Pain. Regret. I’m sorry… I can’t take it. I can’t handle your burdens. I’m trying. I’m trying. I’m sorry.
“I know. We shouldn’t have come here.”
Their bodies were snapped to a halt, Floyd hitting brakes that were beyond his control. Terrill flipped forward, but the second his feet touched the ground, he felt frozen. The same had befallen the girls, each struggling under this newest spell, wondering how it happened. While the trees burned around them, Terrill looked down and could see it there, plain as day in the presence of the Lifeblood of Darkness: strings. So many strings, each pulling towards his shadow and upwards to a single source that stood between them and their companions.
“Thank you for bringing my vessel to me, Terrill. And thank you for the final ingredient. It wasn’t easy, but I think this will work out splendidly,” Atrum said, his eyes glowing red with mischievous malevolence. There, Terrill believed, was the dead giveaway: this boy wasn’t Atrum, but Golbrucht. Now, he had them where he wanted them. With a wide and confident smirk, he spoke, “Now, kindly, l will stop you from interfering. Goodbye.”