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Chapter 27 : Desolation

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Arc III : The Saladina Desert

Chapter XXVII : Desolation

Lateday of Primoris, Second Day of Autumnmoon

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Bram dropped to his knees with the Gaian child still in his arms. He had carried the load for six straight hours in a frenzied escape from the ruined Ur Valley. He was spent and in urgent need of rest. A patch of tall grass, off the side of the trail, was a viable target. He needed this place to hide, unwind, and gather his thoughts.

He released the child and grimaced, as aches ran down his back, waist, and legs. He examined the child's wound, a gash between blood-spattered strands of white, wispy hair. She was such a petite little girl, and she must have hit her head hard. The scalp had swelled, but thankfully, the bleeding stopped. Goddess willing, she would recover without medical attention.

Bram sank into the weeds among chittering grasshoppers. Bugs bounced between blades of grass, which swayed in the gentle breeze. He considered his path forward, insurmountable by all measures. He was one man against the world’s most powerful empire, now with the cataclysmic strength of a sunstone—and possibly more to follow.

He wondered how long before Richard dispatched his other Gnostics to hunt him down. Or when his kingdom would plaster his face on wanted posters across the Northern Continent. He worried about Rosa and hoped she had fled before his enemy apprehended her to use against him. He worried, too, about war, which was sure to foment across the land, now that Richard would employ violence and destruction to obtain the other sunstones.

It only took one of these artifacts to slaughter an entire village of Gaians and their aeons. Even worse; the sunstone had created a set of orbs, which by themselves destroyed the ancient village and its tribe. The aeons were supposedly soldiers of the Goddess, but they failed to stand up against the sunstone’s power. Bram couldn’t even fathom the combined terror of all four in one man’s hands.

And yet, he was not deterred. Despite what was sure to be fierce retaliation from his former homeland, he did not regret his choice. He might have made mistakes before. Perhaps becoming a Gnostic Knight had been the first. But now, things were different. He was different. And he would never again take part in Richard’s conquests. Not ever.

Angkor had attempted genocide, but a single child survived the slaughter. And based on the lengths that Richard and Virgil went to exterminate the Gaian people, Bram was certain the tribe’s powers were key to confronting the sunstone’s evil.

He still remembered the colossal red giant that split the Ur Valley in two. Though the child had inherited the gifts of her people, it was clear that her strength already surpassed the combined power of her village. Bram’s only hope of standing against Angkor was to protect her.

More than that, he felt it was his duty. His soul was injured, and he struggled with Kane’s words: that he was a hypocrite unwilling to admit that he had already murdered innocents in the name of King Richard. In a way, Kane was right. War was brutal, and not all targets were enemy soldiers. As much as Bram was ashamed to admit it, his actions and his choices led to the misery of so many.

He never intended it that way. At the time, he wanted to fight for justice on behalf of his homeland and its people. And his principles never wavered. But war was messy, and innocent lives were lost. Gnostic Knights were known for collateral damage, and Bram was no exception.

Yet, the introspection was too much for him to take, at least for the time being. He was weary and needed rest. The soft grass beckoned, and his head sank slowly into it. Particles of ash drifted far above—once part of the flesh and bones of innocent villagers. But now, they were fleeting hopes and dreams. Precious lives, extinguished. Heartfelt desires, scattered. Hopeful promises, unfulfilled. They created a film that obscured an otherwise clear blue sky. Bram’s body was numb. Exhausted. Listless. His eyelids fell, and a veil of darkness swaddled him. It washed away his torment and offered him comfort.

He found himself waist-deep in an ocean of nothingness. No markers to guide his path. Just blackness without end. To his side walked a small boy, a distant memory. The child was alone, lost in a daze, wandering without purpose, searching for answers ….

“Bram!” A child’s voice shook him. “Hurry up!”

He looked over his shoulder at a familiar grassy field. In place of armor, he wore the childhood makeshift accouterments of an Angkorian soldier. In his right hand, a wooden sword; in his left, the lid of a cooking pot.

Another boy approached. His childhood friend, Kane Harding. “Are you ready to finish this?”

Bram was taken aback. A childlike voice spoke through his lips. “What?”

“The ogre, remember?” The young version of Kane scoffed and rolled his eyes. “We’re gonna bring home its head, and the king will proclaim us heroes!”

Bram smiled. He liked playing make-believe. It made him happy, and life was simple. No fear, anger, or frustration. Just carefree boyhood fantasies.

His younger self burst with excitement. “Let’s be wizards, Kane! I want to blow things up!”

Kane sounded exasperated. “We played ‘wizards’ last week. Today, I’m a squad commander in the Angkorian army, and you’re my lieutenant.”

Bram remembered this day. He was disappointed that Kane was bossing him around, as usual. “Awwe … when do I get to pick the adventure? Can’t we play ‘soldiers’ next time?”

Kane must have noticed the miserable look on his face. His façade softened. “Oh all right, crybaby. We’ll be wizards.” Holding his wooden stick in the air, he announced the new rules. “Instead of swords, these will be our casting totems.”

Bram’s frown faded, and a twinkle returned to his eyes. Kane seemed pleased. “So, what kinda spells you gonna cast?”

“Fireballs! And lightning! And I wanna be healer!”

The older boy groaned. “Dummy. Wizards can’t heal. You need to be a sorcerer to do that.”

Bram crossed his arms defiantly. “My pappy once said he met a scholar from Vineta who could do both.”

Kane shook his head. “Nuh-uh. He’s just tellin’ you stories.”

Bram stomped his foot. “Well, I wanna do both!”

Kane chuckled. “Whatever. I’ll be the wizard. But since you know healing magic, you have to be my backup while I lead the mission.”

Bram rejoiced. He knew Kane had duped him into following the same rules, but it hardly mattered. The important part was that Kane was his friend, the only one willing to walk all the way to his remote rural farm. There weren’t many kids in Providence, and Kane could have just as easily gone to nearer settlements to be with boys his own age. But he stayed, because Bram needed him.

Darkness returned. The grassy field melted away, and in its place was the shadowy lagoon between dreams. Except, far in the distance, a ravenous storm thundered. It was getting closer ….

“Hey, wake up!”

A teenage Kane prodded him with a forefinger. Bram must have dozed off while waiting for his friend to arrive. He sat on an old rope and plank swing by the mill pond, where he usually met Kane after school.

He jerked upright. “What? What is it?”

Kane laughed, but for some reason, Bram felt a great sadness well up inside. “Oh. It’s you.”

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“Oh, it’s you,” Kane mimicked Bram’s downcast tone. “Yeah, it’s me. Who else did you expect?”

Bram wanted to tell him, but he felt like a wimp. He was too embarrassed to say it out loud.

Kane punched him fondly on the shoulder. It stung. “So? We still gonna hang? Or are you planning to ‘hang’ there by yourself all day?”

Any other time, Bram would have chuckled at Kane’s puns. But something had happened that made him feel too ashamed to share with his friend.

“Well …?” Kane paused with his arms suspended. But after getting no response, he threw them down in dismissal. “Whatever … I’ve got other things to do.”

He turned around, but Bram couldn’t bear to see him go. “Please wait! I’m just … I’m not feeling well, okay?”

“What do you mean?” Kane looked down at Bram’s shirt, where a bit of blood had dried along the neckline. “Don’t tell me they beat on you again?” He looked pissed. “Those damn Jacob boys!”

“No, it wasn’t them,” Bram lied, fearing that Kane might go after them. “It was an accident.”

Kane pulled on Bram’s shirt collar, revealing a series of bruises across his chest.

His face reddened. “Was that an accident, too?”

Bram pulled away. It was painful … and shameful. They beat him because he let them. He would curl up on the ground while they pummeled him with fists and kicks.

Kane clenched his fist. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back. I’ll make sure they regret what they did.”

He turned to leave, but Bram called out to him.

“No, wait.”

Bram knew he couldn’t let the abuse continue. But if Kane faced them instead, the animus from the Jacob boys would only grow. Bram understood that if he didn’t stand up for himself, the cycle of violence would only escalate.

“I’m gonna face them, instead.”

Kane spun around, clearly in shock. “You’re crazy. Just look at you. Those idiots might be cowards, ganging up on a kid that’s smaller than they are, but if you egg ‘em on in your shape, they’ll hurt you bad. It won’t just be bruises, Bram.”

Bram understood the risk, but there was something else that steeled his nerves. A bit of truth, which Kane didn’t realize. The bullies only picked on him because he didn’t fight back. He just needed to throw the first punch and show them his willingness to stand up for himself. Even if he was wrong, he was willing to pay the price. Better than to suffer the humiliation of having Kane fight his battles.

His friend was fuming. “Don’t you get it? You shouldn’t have to face them. It ain’t right. Let me. I can settle this!”

Bram was touched that Kane wanted to stand up for him. “I know. You’ve always been there for me. But this time … I have to do it myself.”

Kane lowered his head, unwilling to make eye contact. “You saying you don’t need me anymore. That it?”

Bram leapt from the swing, clutching his chest in agony. “Of course not. You and me … we’re like brothers. And we always will be.”

He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, but Kane shrugged it off. He left, refusing to look Bram in the eyes. It was the last time he offered to stand up for his younger friend … and the last time he ever needed to.

A flash of light and thunderous boom reminded Bram of the approaching storm. It was right on top of him. Blackness swallowed the tire swing, and the entire mill pond fell into the void. The maelstrom was alive, and it fed on his regrets. It kept on feeding, devouring everything, until nothing was left but a sea of deep oblivion.

“Kane?” Bram was older and maturer now. “What are you doing?”

He stood at the door of his friend’s dormitory room at the Academy. He was just passing by and was surprised to find Kane packing his bags.

“I’m leaving,” the young man told him.

Bram was stunned. “Where? Finals are tomorrow.”

“I know.” Kane’s tone was matter of fact. He never stopped packing.

Bram stepped inside and closed the door. “Christine was looking for you.”

At last, Kane paused. It lasted only a moment, and he didn’t turn around. He just stared vacantly at the frosted window overlooking the streets of Niedam. Bram circled around, surprised to see bags underneath his friend’s eyes, which hadn’t been there when the autumn term began. He heard rumors that Kane had been struggling with coursework, but he was too busy studying for his own exams to spend much time with him.

Kane had grown increasingly distant over the past few months, and Bram was beginning to worry. Unfortunately, his friend didn’t appear to be in a chatty mood. He just shook his head and stuffed more things into the bag.

His voice was stoic. “I’ll catch up with her later.”

In between a pair of slacks and a wool pullover, he handed Bram a letter. A dark, waxy seal signifying the Order of Royal Guardsmen was fixed to the bottom.

Bram unfolded the paper and read its contents. “You were accepted.” The start date was just two days away. “You’re leaving now? Does that mean you won’t be coming back?” He already knew the answer. He strained to hold back the sadness in his voice.

Kane faced his friend but seemed to have trouble making eye-contact. His voice was stiff. “Bram, listen … this is something I have to do.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “We’re at war, and things are getting worse all the time. This is my chance to make a difference. I’ll be part of the king’s elite force. It’s a rare privilege. I figured you’d be happy for me.”

Bram stumbled on his words. “I … I am. What does your mother think?”

Kane scowled. “Doesn’t matter. It’s my decision.”

“What about school—?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get my diploma in training.”

Bram held his mouth open. There was one question he yearned to ask but couldn’t form the words: What about me …?

Instead, he forced a smile. “Wow. The king’s elite force. What an honor. You should be proud.”

It was a lie. Bram wanted to beg his friend to reconsider. He had heard stories about how hard the Royal Guard trained new recruits. They pushed men to their physical limits, and only at the brink of death would they remold them into the king’s most loyal servants. But before Bram could say anything, Kane reached out and embraced him.

“Thank you … for being my best friend.”

Bram swallowed his objections and hugged his friend back. He squeezed out a tear but wiped it away before Kane could see. It was the last time he would ever see Kane as a young adult.

When he looked up, the young man was gone, and the dorm was empty. The bed was neatly made, as if it hadn’t been used in weeks. Bram was confused. He looked from side to side, trying to understand what happened. And then the darkness came ….

An infinite blackness, more sinister than before. The storm had passed, but something far worse quickly approached ….

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, Bram.”

He spun around to face the Royal who had betrayed him.

“Move aside!” Kane commanded.

Bram found himself speaking with words that injured his very soul. “To the Burning Pits with you and Richard. I renounce your rotten kingdom!”

Kane pointed his spear. “The words of a traitor, punishable by death. This is your last warning. Think carefully before you answer, as there will be no turning back.”

He felt regret. Sadness. No conviction. “I already made my choice. How about you?”

Kane looked down at his spear, his face contorted with disappointment. “So be it.”

Bram donned his helm, facing the immense pain of dueling with the kind, gentle man he had known since childhood. The boy who comforted him, stood up for him, and called him his best friend.

He attacked fiercely, and Kane fumbled. His Gnostic blade found its target and plunged deep, straight through his armor. Powerful toxins coursed through his friend’s veins, draining the color from his face.

Bram regretted it instantly. He reached out, trying to catch Kane as he fell backward. Instead of solid ground behind him, a fiery chasm stretched across the Ur Valley, magma and smoke belching from its center.

Bram dove and caught his friend by the hand. He held tightly, but his fingers were slipping, slowly losing their grip.

“Kane!” he screamed. “Hold on!”

“No, Bram … this is what you wanted.”

“I never wanted this!”

Kane’s eyes turned glassy. “It’s too late ….”

His hand slipped, and the Royal fell. Bram lost his balance and fell in the other direction. However, he didn’t hit the ground, either. He kept falling, until he found himself in a pool of dark ooze. His arms flailed, but he was submerged in darkness, and the weight of his armor dragged him down. He couldn’t find air. He merely sank into the depths, drowning in an ocean of guilt.

He woke, covered in cold sweat. The memories of the dream drifted briefly around his vision before disappearing into the early light. He suddenly realized: it was morn! He had slept through the night, but his mind was still stuck in the dream. He wanted to go back, to save his friend from committing irreversible atrocities. More than a friend, Kane had been his brother since childhood. Yet, hours ago, it meant nothing. Loyalty to Richard held more value in the end than life itself. Rolling to his side, Bram wept.

Part of him wanted to believe there was still goodness left in Kane, but he couldn’t forget the despicable lengths he went … and was still willing to go. No man could ever take back what he did. He had become a mockery of the selfless and benevolent soul that had once stood in Bram’s defense. Whatever happened over the years erased the very thing that made Kane special. All that remained was a corrupt, pitiful husk.

Bram wondered if indoctrination into Richard’s service had twisted his values over the years. In a way, the Gnostics were no different. They taught Bram about unquestioning loyalty, how service protected his homeland, while disobedience threatened it. But how far would the common soldier go, if ordered? Would others go as far as Kane? Bram didn’t want to imagine what Richard would order his military to do, with the sunstones driving his ambition.

Somehow, he had to stop his former liege before other sunstones fell into his hands. His best bet was to make his way north, to Saladin, and then forge ahead to Kitezh. His original mission was a bust, but he could embark on a new mission to warn his former enemies. If he could reach them in time, he could stall Richard’s growth in power, and hopefully buy some time. He could figure out next steps along the way, but he knew that, somehow, the Gaian child was the key.

He turned to where he expected her to sleep, only to discover that she was gone. Panic set in, and he quickly scanned the area. Unfortunately, all he found were the cleft-footed prints of a bipedal creature. Something had taken the girl while she slept. He bolted upright, as endless possibilities raced through his head. Fortunately, his gear still sat neatly where he left it. There was still hope, but only if he acted quickly.

He grabbed his sword and travel bag and raced down the hill, into the northern midlands.