Broken Blades Don't Sing (Tales of Ashkar Book One) (19 page)

Serraemas looked over his shoulder at the child,
who was still clutching Erendil dearly. Oddly enough, she seemed to
fancy the towrth, but, not surprisingly, still appeared wary of
Raxxil. He looked back at the woman interrogating him. "What of
her?"

The armored woman turned her head and gestured
at the soldiers behind her, and they broke their ranks to continue
assisting the other villagers. The costumed man still remained,
almost as if he thought his presence relevant.

"Why is she so fond of you instead of her fellow
villagers?" asked the woman demandingly. "Where is her family?"

"Her family was slain during the attack",
Serraemas answered calmly. "She is now alone, subjected to
darkness."

"Explain yourself!" barked the woman. "I grow
weary of your riddles."

"Every second we delay our target creates
distance", reminded Zaranet.

“I know, but we must not create any more
disruptions than necessary”, Serraemas responded to the elemental.
He looked back once more at his allies.

Raxxil gazed at the little girl solemnly,
appearing lost in his thoughts while Erendil exchanged words with
the child. Raxxil's behavior was troubling, but they had no time to
spare to heal his wounds or his mind. If the child reminded him of
Tanaria, then Serraemas knew it was no simple matter. Still, their
task was not yet completed, and they needed to make haste.

"The longer we waste time and sit idly, the
farther the man responsible for this travels", Serraemas stated
firmly. "What is your name?"

"Samantha Kell, Lieutenant of the 11th battalion
of the Order of the Faith", stated the woman proudly. "What
business do you have with the man responsible for this?"

Serraemas turned, gesturing for his allies to
follow him to the north exit of the village. "To punish him for
what he's done.”

---

"What of the dark-haired one?" Samantha asked
the little girl that had seemed drawn to the odd cohort. "What can
you tell me about him?"

"I don't know", responded the child
absentmindedly, still sitting on the ground and playing with dirt.
Naturally, the loss of her parents would have a profound effect on
her, but Samantha was unsure if the girl even accepted the reality
of it or was simply in shock.

At this point, any information was crucial.

"And the taller man?" Samantha pressed with a
stern expression.

The child paused momentarily before looking up
at Samantha and shrugging. "He called me Tanaria, but I don't know
why." The child returned her attention to the ground and resumed
her work as if dismissing Samantha entirely.

Samantha softened her complexion and breathed
deeply.

"Despite the unfortunate circumstances, I'm sure
she will find her way", assured Kavem in her mind. "From pain comes
adaptation."

Samantha looked around at the devastated
townsfolk that grieved with deep sorrow. Such a tragedy had not
befallen the village in ages, especially not of the demonic sort,
and Samantha could not fathom their melancholy.

The lieutenant had been awakened by the shouting
of men and the screams of battle in the middle of the night,
bearing witness to a gruesome sight: shadowy figures running
rampant throughout the village, slaying hapless villagers
mercilessly. Her men, though they fought valiantly, were almost cut
down entirely as well. Only Graf and Samantha seemed capable of
handling the fiends.

If not for the strange group of elementalists
that had appeared, the casualties would have been much higher. In
fact, Samantha feared that the one that called himself Serraemas
was right and that they would have been overwhelmed completely. The
elementalists, alongside the several children that had somehow
grown several ages during the night, claimed that a mysterious
traveler had summoned the fiends.

Devue, the thin Knight of the Faith that had
stood guard during the night, claimed that the man had spoken of
being attacked by Executioners. If anything, it appeared to be that
the mysterious travel
was
the 'Executioners', and must have
been the one that had perpetuated the rumors. Either that, or this
was all just a convoluted ruse.

"Those are not ordinary elementalists", said
Kavem, and he was right.

She had witnessed them briefly during the
clashes, and the man that claimed he was Raxxil had a release that
was truly a spectacle to behold. Despite his wounds, his blows were
devastating, taking out scores of the monsters. His ally, the
shorter, dark-haired man was just as deadly—though considerably
more graceful in his maneuvers. Serraemas handled the battlefield
with ease even without releasing his weapon. Lastly, the towrth,
who apparently was blind, swiftly struck down foes with his
bow.

For what strange reason that they had appeared
at the same time as the demons, she hadn't the slightest. To claim
that they were Serraemas, the Lord of Frost, and Raxxil the Volcano
was equally bizarre. There was not so much as a wrinkle on either
their faces, yet they claimed the names of men who, at this point,
should be elderly and nearing the end of life? By God, Serraemas
would have walked Ashkar for more than a century—a feat she had
never seen anyone do with that kind of youth.

If they truly were the legends they claimed,
then Samantha feared their presence boded ill for the surrounding
villages. What irked her even more was that they fought against the
malevolent shadows and helped defend the village. The legends did
not speak of benevolence, but she had to admit that she was
grateful that they had appeared.

Why would they be here, and why chase this
mysterious man?

"Please be careful, Sam", warned Kavem. "I fear
that this may be something that is beyond us."

Samantha clicked her tongue. She had lost too
many good men, and many of the villagers lost their lives as well.
Her commanding officers situated in the Order of the Faith’s main
city in Lenas would be none too pleased to read her report.

God, tell me what choice is the right
one.

"Sergeant Graf!" she yelled, attempting to
garner the attention of her second-in-command.

"I'm right here, ma’am", said Graf from behind,
standing only a few feet from her.

"Status report!" she barked as she wheeled
around to face him.

Graf's complexion was as grim as ever, and he
frowned so hard she thought it would turn into a smile.

"Six of our men fell during battle, leaving us
with five remaining, including you and me", he answered soberly.
"Amongst the villagers, the total death count is twenty-two,
including men, women, and children."

“God’s goodness…” muttered Samantha.

By now, the sun hung happily in the clear sky,
its hot light bearing down on her exposed face. The injured and the
dead had been tended to, and all that remained was the next course
of action; while she knew the mourning would last and Bellis would
continue to suffer, she needed to concentrate her efforts on
ensuring another attack didn't happen.

Samantha looked north briefly, where the
mysterious company had gone in pursuit of the accused perpetrator
some time ago. She then placed her hands on her hips and looked
down, furrowing her brows in pensive contemplation.

"I highly recommend that you don't do that,
Sam", warned Kavem, reading Samantha's thoughts. "This is no longer
our concern."

Samantha turned to Sergeant Graf, who awaited
her orders patiently.

"You're now in charge of overlooking Bellis,
Sergeant", she said as she started walking toward the stables.

"Yes, ma’am", Graf answered with a swift salute.
"If you don't mind me asking, what's your plan?"

Samantha stopped and turned to the elderly man,
locking her eyes with his. "There's more to this than demons, and
I'm going to find out.”

"Oh dear..." lamented Kavem.

Chapter
10

347th Dawn of the 4999th Age of Rimas

Golden dreams of false hope lie

I wasn't able to say goodbye

The flames expel, they consume all in woe

Where did you go?

Fire burns inside me

The inferno rages, I am set free

Alone, I can barely stand

Promise me you'll hold my hand

Is that really her?

Raxxil trudged on, his thoughts absorbed in
disbelief at the events that had just recently transpired. Memories
of his life long ago that he had repressed surfaced, tormenting him
with hope that he had once held dear to his heart.

"He shouldn't have gotten far in his state",
Serraemas said.

The icy elementalist had taken point and was
adamant about finishing the task. They traveled along the dirt path
that led to the northeast. Forest greeted them on either side. Up
ahead, the path led to a wooden bridge that arched over a roaring
river, which was probably the Haln River.

"Erendil, can you still sense his presence?"
Serraemas asked as he looked over his shoulder at the towrth.

"It's faint, but I can feel his energy a few
miles ahead to the northeast", responded Erendil. The archer looked
down for a moment, uncertainty in his expression. "Oddly enough, I
also sense something from the south."

"Perhaps the dark aura from our battle in Bellis
still lingers", replied the staff-wielder.

"It feels... different", continued Erendil,
shaking his head, "Not only that, but it emanates from further
south than the village—and it’s moving."

Serraemas paused momentarily and turned to face
the archer, furrowing his brows in pensive thought. "It moves?"

"I feel it making its way northbound", answered
the towrth as he scratched the side of his head.

Serraemas shifted his gaze down the path behind
them briefly, then looked down at the ground, no doubt
contemplating an explanation for the strange occurrence. After
several moments, he turned and continued forward again. "Let us
quicken our pace.”

Raxxil gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.
They hadn't stopped to rest and properly tend to his wounds—not
that he particularly cared, anyway. He had only received crude
bandages, with wraps of white over most of his wounds. The pain was
his reminder of life. What troubled him was something else
entirely.

Is that really her? No, but...

He looked up at the clear blue sky and stared at
it blankly. Memories he had suppressed so long ago continued to
rush at Raxxil, threatening to drown him. Their lively faces filled
his mind, basking him in warmth. Mother, father, and Tanaria.
Little Tanaria… He still vividly remembered her soft, blond hair.
Those large, innocent green eyes that looked upon him with childish
hope. Her toothy smile that appeared every time she found joy in
the most mundane of things. It was all so lucid.

I can't lose you again. I promise—

"Raxxil!" exclaimed Serraemas, interrupting the
hammer-wielder’s thoughts and glaring at him with all-too-familiar
cold eyes.

"What is it?" snapped Raxxil a bit harsher than
he really intended as he was shaken from his daze.

Serraemas narrowed his eyes. "You are not
focused on our task. I told you already, she is not Tanaria, nor
will she ever be. Tanaria is gone. Do you not recall the fate of
your family?"

Erendil gasped loudly, but looked elsewhere and
attempted to appear as though he had not heard the harsh
remarks.

Raxxil stopped and looked down at the ground in
an effort to fight the tide of memories that still sought to
overwhelm him. He clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles
whitening and blood beginning to drip from his palms.

"Are you listening to me?" whispered Serraemas
vehemently as he stepped closer and looked up at Raxxil with
disapproval. Their faces were merely inches apart, and Raxxil felt
his partner's eyes fixated upon him. "Your sister is dead and gone,
and she won't be coming back."

Raxxil jerked up and met his ally's blank,
unsympathetic eyes. Rage consumed him, and he felt his face flush
red as hot blood coursed through his veins. "How dare you!?" He
grabbed Serraemas by the collar and lifted him off the ground. "You
of all people should understand! What of your precious Elena? Where
is
she
?"

Serraemas's dark blue eyes widened in shock for
a moment before his complexion darkened. He pushed off Raxxil's
chest with his hand forcefully, causing Raxxil to stumble backward.
Crouching, Serraemas launched himself at the fiery elementalist,
and brought his arm back as he flew through the air.

Raxxil regained his composure and sidestepped,
narrowly evading Serraemas’s attack. Using Serraemas's momentum,
Raxxil grabbed onto the staff-wielder, then brought down his arms
in an attempt to slam Serraemas onto the ground—

Serraemas shifted in mid-air and kicked Raxxil
hard on his side. Raxxil grunted in pain, releasing his grip and
staggering to the left from the force of the blow. He buckled and
kneeled onto the ground, still weakened from his wounds. Serraemas
landed on his two feet softly, then lunged at Raxxil again.