Chapter 25: Golden Ears and White Reaper (Kai)

~Kai

The Cruorus Lands are filled with many confusions and mysteries.

Not to mention the fact that there are so many different wild beast tribes that I would have to take off my boots and continue counting using my toes.

And when finished, I would have to take off Nuala’s boots, also counting her toes.

Of course, there are not only the beast tribes. There are also other, say, less delectable tribes.

-Kai Bloodseeker, on the subject of the Cruorus Lands

It took two weeks of hard traveling before I spotted the landmark I wanted, a jutting black pillar that extended upward into the air for thousands of feet to see. It stretched up high, twice as tall as even the tallest trees in the Cruorus Lands.

And what would have taken only a week of traveling to reach that landmark had been extended into two weeks. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.

If I had to lay blame, the Cruorus Lands would have been my target. There were many similar landmarks, confusing you further. The place was a sprawling maze of forests whose sole purpose was to deceive you, devour you inside its heart so that none could ever leave again.

In the invasion of the Dreads three centuries ago, they had lost many a soldiers to the Cruorus Lands. Not to mention the ambushes from the wild beast tribes. It was a shame that they didn’t factor that into their plans, or else they would have certainly spent more time breeding flying mounts.  

The delay and deaths from traveling across the Cruorus Lands had gone a long way to help form the Tribal Alliance and set up a united defense.

Ever since their first invasion had resulted in a failure, the Dreads tried harder and harder. A second invasion, a third invasion. By the time the third attempt had failed, it had become a stalemate with the Cruorus Lands stuck between the two borders. Now, there were only the occasional skirmishes from the remnants of the Dread armies.  

Riding on Nox and the others on their Vulcans, we circled around the landmark before landing at a suitable place nearby. Up close, the black pillar loomed largely, casting a shadow over even the tallest of trees. It would have taken a minute to even circle around the base of the black pillar. They were made out of a mysterious metal, but was plain to look at.

The wild beast tribes called these landmarks “Vrisalus,” in their many languages. Simply put, these pillars were havens, safe from the beasts and unknown monsters that lived in the Cruorus Lands.  

“What are we doing here, Commander Kai?” Jenna asked, a hand gripping the lower limb of her white bow. I could feel a tension from her. She looked expectant, as if ready for any sudden situations.

“Ah right, I had almost forgotten,” I said, fixing my sheathed broadsword to the back of my left shoulder. “It has only been a few years since you joined the Bloodguards, hasn’t it Jenna?”

“Yes, only about four years.”

I nodded, fixing my shield around my back with its built in strap. “I have gotten so used to your face in these years that I would have thought you were a lifelong companion.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

I laughed. “That wasn’t really a compliment, Hunter Jenna. All of my lifelong companions are dead and rotting in their graves already.”

“Oh…I see. I will have to decline the invitation then,” she said, looking only slightly bothered.

Frowning a little, I fixed the position of my weapon again. One of the worst positions to place your weapon is behind the back, especially considering the length of the longer weapons such as a broadsword. It is almost impossible to draw out the weapon then unless your arm is twice as long as your back.

In the midst of a battle, you will waste a few precious seconds trying to draw the weapon out. As for my own weapon, I slung the strap around my shoulder, so as to make it easier to take the sheathed weapon off, then draw it.

Still, the best position to draw a longer weapon such as a broadsword is to hang it at your waist. Or better yet, leave it naked at all times. It was a matter of convenience and comfort.                

“You still haven’t answered my question, Commander Kai,” Jenna said.

Patting Nox’s neck, I dismounted from the saddle, looking at my surroundings. Gnarled trees whose roots shot off into a myriad of directions surrounded our six person group. As for the trees themselves, they loomed so far above with their black canopies that only specks of light were allowed through. Black as midnight, the wood of the trees seemed to devour the specks of light that managed to get through.  

“We will simply wait here by the pillar for our guest to arrive,” I said after taking a deep breath. The dampness and the mustiness of these ancient woods entered my nose. It would become a constant companion for us now.

“Who is the guest,” Magus Sabria asked. The nervousness in her face could not be hidden. For the newcomers to the Cruorus Lands, it was always hard to familiarize themselves with the ancient silence that seems to permeate the woods.    

“Don’t turn into a full red coward on us now, little Magus,” Nuala said with a smirk from behind her. “You are the one that wanted to come along.”

A few minutes of silence passed by as we waited by the black pillar, the silence only interrupted by the argument between Nuala and Sabria.

Silence still, if ignoring Nuala and Sabria. I could see the fidgeting movements from the others now, the ones who had been here before. Then the silence fell between Nuala and Sabria. They had stopped arguing.

There was a coldness in the air now. I could taste it, feel it on my skin, under my skin. Like an itch under the skin you could not get at.

Presences, my instincts warned me. And I trusted my instincts—they had kept me alive thus far so the trust was warranted.  

“I always hate this part,” Kass complained.

“But you have only been here once before with the Commander,” Zan said.

“Shut your bearded mouth. I can say whatever I want,” she replied, not too harshly for Kass was in truth fond of Zan. He was a likeable old Greynat.

I liked him too. An if I ever had to kill Zan, I would give him an easy death.

Soon, the coldness became more palpable, like the chills from a fever. Fog started to rise from the ground, covering our surroundings. As if alive, the white mist slowly lifted itself up until more than enough to reach past our heads.

I shook my head with feigned disappointment, ignoring the confused questions from Sabria and Jenna. “The games we play in this forest.”

I waited a few seconds. “Zan, if you please.”

“Right away, Commander Kai,” he replied affably. See? There was a reason why I liked the old Greynat. He was friendly, obedient, and respectful. Too friendly sometimes though.

With ease that could only come from years of experience, Zan opened up his Surge. And though I couldn’t exactly see the actions he was taking in this fog where one could not even see past three steps, I knew what Zan would be doing.      

In a forest, the most powerful Magus are the ones with compatibility to Nature and Earth Essences. For good old Zan, he was an Earth and Darkness Magus of the Seventh Foci, worth a small army by himself.

A few seconds passed by and I could feel the swirl of Essences around me. And though I couldn’t identify what kind of Essences they were with my own eyes, I could feel that there were Essences gathering around us.

“Disperse!” Zan shouted in the language of Knowing.

And with just that word, the fog started dispersing into a singular direction. Along with the chill, the fog was sucked into a small crack that had opened up in the ground just twenty steps away to the front of me.

There is a power in Knowing, a power in words and in names. In actuality, Zan had no real need to shout out Disperse but there was just more power with the spoken word.

The Earth Essences swirled around us furiously and at the center of it all was the small divide in the ground. Soon, all of the fog along with the chill of the air was swallowed by the crack.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Seal!”

The small crack in the ground abruptly closed, leaving not even one trace to be seen.

“Let me do the talking,” I said. Then an edge of hardness. “Don’t cause any troubles, Kass, Magus Sabria, and Nuala.”

A moment passed by as we waited.  

From between the massive roots of two gnarled trees, a hooded figure came walking out. A familiar figure to my eyes, but small compared to the massive roots of the trees.

“Must you always play these games, Golden Ears?” I said. Not a single trace of emotion entered my voice.

A crackling laughter, decrepit like the old gnarled trees of these ancient woods. “So the famous Commander Kai Bloodseeker pays another visit to old me. Or rather, the famous White Reaper.” He spoke the words of the common language of the Tribal Alliance fluently, barely mangling the pronunciations.

The hooded figure stopped short just before us, taking off his grey hood that was attached to his too long, too tattered brown robes. The clothes looked as ancient as the trees themselves.

A grey furred face, beak-like nose, two golden sunken eyes, one of them half closed as if age had laid claim to it. Then the golden furred ears that shot off like branches from the top of his black furred head and drooped down, burdened by age. The features looked familiar to me.

“How many years has it been, White Reaper?” came his elderly voice, like the scraping of two flimsy branches.

An irritating sound. Something about it just rubbed me the wrong way. I steadied myself, not letting my weapon leave my scabbard. I didn’t want a battle, especially with the hidden presences all around us, behind trees, on the branches. Bows were most likely trained upon us also.

“Seven years since my last visit, Old Ears,” I said.

Discipline, my friends, discipline. I didn’t let my sword-hand stray.  

Golden Ears came closer until he stood just before me. Age had also sunken his height. He would be lucky if he reached five feet.  From the long sleeves of his tattered brown robe, a hand came unhidden.

I shook the patchy grey furred hand, thin and light with its four bony digits. “True friends are always hard to come by, White Reaper. You should visit me more often.”

“I will pay you a last visit on your deathbed, Old Ears.”

He laughed, unbothered by my words. “Good, I shall hold onto that promise, though I am afraid I still have a long life ahead of me.”

“Really? You look as if a sudden wind could topple you over any moment.”

He laughed again. “When I collapse, it will be underneath a pretty young thing.” His neck twisted a little. “Ah, Nuala. You look well, dear.”

“Feck off, old thing.”

Golden Ears shook his head, a friendliness in his sunken eyes. “You have raised her well, White Reaper.” He turned toward Kassina. “Ah, the former slave.” A quick pause. “And former lady. Kassina, am I correct?”

Kass twitched a smile at that. “Have you been telling stories of me now, Commander Kai?” There was a dangerous edge to her voice.

I smiled at her implied threat, but was not even given a chance to speak.

“It was me who told the White Reaper to free you on his last visit seven years ago,” Old Ears continued on as if he had not heard her threat.      

Surprise flittered across Kassina’s face, quickly in and quickly out.

“Enough, Old Ears. Stop playing with them. Do not make me repeat myself,” I said, imagining my hands around his ancient throat, throttling him to his death before a quick shove of my broadsword.

Golden Ears startled a little at that. He smiled. “As frightening as always, White Reaper.” He made a little bow toward me.  

“Quit the flattery.”

Instead of Golden Ears, he should have been called golden-tongued. And to add to his golden tongue were his unnatural perceptiveness and a strange ability to touch minds—it made him a font of knowledge.

He was the spider living in the hearts of the Cruorus Lands, weaving his webs all around. Diverse knowledge at the tips of his fingers, and all he asked in return were favors.

“Oh forgive me, where are my manners? Would you like to rest in my humble home for a day or two?”

“No need. I came here to ask you a few questions in exchange for the debts you have accrued.” I had done a few favors for Golden Ears by eradicating some unruly beast tribes more than two decades ago.

A faint smile. “Ask away, White Reaper,” he said.  

“Why are there increasing movements seen among the Dreads?”

Straight to the point, yet an ambiguous answer was given.

“Why else?” Golden Ears said. “It’s an age old thing. Hatred. Ambition. Grudges. The stuff that makes us all living, breathing beings. Just like you, White Reaper.”

I waited patiently for him to continue, unbothered by his long tirade of which I held no interest in. Golden Ears knew, no, we both knew that I wouldn’t be provoked by such words or his roundabout answer to my question.

“The Dreads you fought were simply fodder, like grass for the critters. They were simply scouts, testing at your resolve, at your strengths, at your vigilance.”

“I have heard that there is a war going on in the border territories of the Dread.”

He tapped his golden ear once, twice, thrice. “You heard only a part of it, White Reaper. My weaves in and beyond the Dread Mountains tell otherwise. They tell of wars between the Overlords.”

“An Overlord?” I asked. I had never heard of such a term used among the Dreads.

“So little your Tribal Alliance knows. The first invasion was led by a mere rebellious Half-Lord with his thirty thousand underlings. And the successive invasions led by remnants that had stayed behind in the Half-Lord’s territories.”

His voice changed for the softer, a threatening edge in it. “And above a Half-Lord are the Lords, and even above that are the Overlords.”      

I narrowed my eyes at that as a sincere surprise had come over me. “Do you mean to tell me that more and more of these Dreads will come here?”

A dry wheezing of a laughter, and another, then another. “Such ignorance! We are like ants to them, White Reaper. A small bite, a mere Half-Lord. The Overlords do not care of such things. They have far more compelling problems.”

I made to open my mouth, but Golden Ears continued on unabated.

“What your Tribal Alliance calls the Dread Mountains is to the Dread Overlords, a small dot of insignificance on their maps. What is fifty thousand against millions?” Another wheeze. “There are vast lands you do not know of far to the east beyond the Dread Mountains.”    

The numbers were alarming. Millions? Unimaginable. Even if all the tribes in the Tribal Alliance banded together, there would still be less than three hundred thousand.

His sunken half-closed eye fluttered open, shining with an intense light. “And a new ruler has come to the Dread Mountains. A Dread Lord. That, White Reaper, answers your question.”

“That was indeed quite an answer, Old Ears.” I looked at that decrepit old furry bastard over again. I had underestimated him. The extent his weaves of information had spread was even beyond the Dread Mountains? I found that impossible.

All of my instincts, my mind, my knowledge—everything—told me that this old man could not pose a threat to me. Over the years I had known Golden Ears, he had never once given away such telling information. Perhaps he was hiding his powers?

Then if so, I had to admire Golden Ears. I had known him for more than five decades, yet never once did he reveal the extent of his hands.

As if knowing my thoughts, Golden Ears asked, “Do you know why I am telling you this, White Reaper?”

“Why?” I asked. There was a strange sense of danger crawling under my skin.        

His sunken golden eyes met my own starless eyes, a midnight color devoid of almost all light, or so I have been told.

“My mistress, The Lady of the Forest wishes to meet with you, White Reaper.” He growled out the last two words with distaste.