Broken Blades Don't Sing (Tales of Ashkar Book One) (33 page)

And when her mother returned, Pann would have
proved her capability.

---

"Where are we headed?" asked Raxxil as they
exited the armory, the inflection of his voice offering the
implication that they were not quite ready to leave the fortified
kingdom.

By now, the sun was beginning to set. The blue
sky was replaced by a swirl of orange, purple, and red as the
yellow orb bade its farewell. Serraemas looked toward the eastern
wall of the top level, then looked down at the lower levels.

"We can use the horses by the stables to head
east to Merchant's Keep", said Serraemas as he pointed to the
bottom-most level. Scores of Enept-Ihs's military continued to
close in, but were repelled by the combined efforts of the three
elementalists.

"Aren't we missing something?" asked Raxxil
again, in between swinging his hammer at foes that dare to come too
close.

"Hurry up then", replied Serraemas as he brought
down his staff, striking a soldier that thought close-quarters was
his weakness. Without pause, Raxxil stormed off toward the west and
destroyed just about everything in his path.

Serraemas wiped out another wave of encroaching
guards with a display of ice before motioning Erendil to follow
him. The towrth had abandoned his cocoon-like state, and fired
volleys of dark arrows with expertise. It was slightly different
then the way Erendil had done before. It was as if instead of
drawing from the source of his elemental, Erendil
was
the
darkness that fired from his bow. The arrows struck multiple foes,
and each time they did so, Erendil became faster while their
enemies slowed.

"Let's make it to the wall and hold out there
until Raxxil returns", commanded Serraemas. They bolted across the
cobblestone ground, past the prison's entrance and over to the
eastern wall. By now, multiple deep horns had been blown, and the
entire attention of the kingdom was focused on its uppermost
level.

Toward the center, where the palace stood, were
barricades and fortifications. They must have expected an attack on
the king, and were using a considerable amount of resources to
defend the palace. That left them with a smaller force to engage
the fleeing elementalists, though Serraemas was not about to
complain.

Man and towrth hastily closed the gap to their
destination, their dark cloaks billowing in the wind as they bobbed
and weaved through the ranks of soldiers that sought to defy their
pursuit. Serraemas continued to gesture with his arms as they ran,
this time creating sheets of ice that blanketed the ground around
them. Hapless soldiers slipped on the frozen ground, falling and
colliding with each other. Next to him, Erendil seemed more than
happy to pick off their enemies with deadly accuracy. They were
nearly at the eastern wall, and from there they could hold out—

Before them, about thirty feet away, stood a
young girl wearing the silver-and-blue garment of the Blue Swords,
and behind her were several dozen more soldiers. Their weapons were
already drawn, ready to strike down the fugitives. The girl sported
a thin blade. She lifted her arm and pointed the tip of the weapon
at them.

"It ends here", she shouted.

Serraemas said nothing, instead weaving his
hands as he created a host of deadly spikes just above his head. He
whipped his arm back, then forward—

"You're right", shot back Erendil, stepping in
front of Serraemas. "It does end here. For you, that is." The
towrth then turned to regard the icy elementalist. "The girl is
mine, and the ground will run red with blood before I'm
through."

Chapter 19

4th Dusk of the 5000th Age of Lion

"Ah, finally!" exclaimed Orbo excitedly as the
vast city of Merchant's Keep loomed before them. The end of Nokle
Road gave way to the city's large—and crude—gate. Merchant's Keep
was built on the side of a mountain, and its foundation, or lack
thereof, was built upon just about any material. This lent to the
city's colorful, albeit mismatched and disorganized
architecture.

In here, Aramal's ragged clothes and rough look
were prevalent. In fact, hardly anyone looked twice at his
appearance, and he entered the city with ease. With haste, he made
his way to the nearest bar.

"What are you doing, you fool?" chided the
demon. "We must prepare for the summons! The cult members must be
notified immediately."

Aramal grunted as he plopped down onto a chair
and gestured at the bartender. "What's the rush? We've got plenty
of time."

The bartender walked up to the weary traveler.
"What'll you be havin' tonight?"

"Give me your worst", responded Aramal.

"Suit yourself", scoffed the barkeep. He reached
for a bottle of something Aramal could not identify and poured a
glass, then handed it to the newcomer.

Aramal wrapped his hand around the glass and
brought it up to his nose. While most would find the powerful odor
to be overwhelming, it was as sweet as candy to him. He downed its
contents in one gulp, the liquid burning his throat as it went
down. "Now
that
is alcohol." The traveler raised his empty
glass to the surprised bartender. "Another—"

"That's enough, human", scalded Orbo.

Aramal froze. He stared at the bartender, who
was waiting for him to finish. A few moments passed. Aramal sighed.
He reached for his sack, withdrawing several coins and placing them
on the counter. "Fine."

In a rush, he stepped outside of the bar and
back into the wild streets. He made his way past the crowds,
walking briskly toward the quieter sections of the city. After some
time Aramal was alone under the moon's light. He continued walking,
passing several houses and darkened alleys.

"This one", hissed the demon as Aramal walked
passed a particular alley. He took a deep breath, then walked where
light would not follow. After a few steps, he came upon a door that
was slightly ajar.

"Here?" asked the traveler.

"Yes, yes!" urged Orbo. "Now, hurry!"

Aramal obliged, opening the door and immediately
descending a set of stairs. He smelled a concoction of strange
aromas as he continued to step downward until he came upon another
door. Opening it, the traveler was welcomed by the gazes of several
dozen men that were robed in cloth. They had been busy marking the
floor and walls, setting candles, and engaging in other nefarious
preparations. One of the men walked up to Aramal and bowed, clearly
expecting his arrival for some time.

"Welcome", said the cultist. "We are the Cult of
the Red Dagger."

Aramal nodded slowly, then reached for his
satchel and withdrew the grimoire.

The robed man brightened at the sight of the
book. "Ah, how lovely!"

"Are the preparations complete?" asked Orbo
aloud expectantly.

The cultist gestured to the center of the room,
where a few of the members were etching the floor. "Soon, my lord.
Soon, you will be free."

---

Erendil was horrified by what he saw.

Trapped within his own mind, he could see
himself striking down dozens of people—people simply acting out of
duty. His hands were stained. Stained with the blood of the
soldiers that perished on the very hallowed ground they defended.
No. He did not do this.

This...
elemental
that he had been so
eager to meet was not what he had imagined to be. It was a monster
out for mindless killing that now governed his own actions.
Powerless to stop it, Erendil could do nothing but watch what
unraveled before him.

The ranks of soldiers were soon upon them, led
by the girl dressed in the same uniform as the soldiers that had
captured them. She displayed no fear, only foolhardy resolve.
Erendil lamented her naivety, for it was clear she thought her
efforts were not in vain. As she charged, the girl muttered a
phrase under her breath, and her weapon transformed from an
ordinary sword to one that seemed made purely out of water.

Without his consent, so too did Erendil—or
rather Akaba—ready for another bout of killing.

As she descended upon his corporeal form her
allies did the same, but Serraemas deemed it unfit for them to
interfere. He diverted their attention to himself, unleashing a
flurry of his signature attack and efficiently eliminating those
that had the misfortune of being impaled. He then generated a dome
of ice that encapsulated both Erendil and the lone member of the
Blue Swords.

The girl did not wane in her attack, however,
and she sliced downward with her newly formed weapon. A thin line
of water shot out from the blade, like a slice of air surging at
Erendil. He quickly leapt out of its path, though the movement was
not of his own accord. The towrth returned fire with a dark arrow,
but the girl evaded also.

Is this what I'm here for? Sent out into the
world in callous pursuits. I will not allow it, and you will stop
this bloodshed!

"Be quiet, you fool", were the words that echoed
in his mind from none other than his captor as Akaba forced Erendil
to evade another attack. His adversary sought to close the gap, but
Erendil continued to dance about the enclosed space. The girl's
expression contorted into impatience, and this time she cut the air
three times. In an instant, Erendil was beset by the watery
attacks. He crouched to jump upward—

Stop!

Trapped inside his own body, Erendil focused
with all his essence to regain control. His body stopped before it
flew off the ground, control of his physical form in struggle with
the dark elemental. He felt in power for just a moment until he was
thrown back into his mind. His body went through with the jump,
just narrowly being touched by the harmless looking water as they
collided with each other and dispersed.

"You're just going to get yourself killed", he
heard the elemental spit vehemently within his mind.

The fighters exchanged ranged attacks
back-and-forth to no avail in between struggles of control. The
towrth was beset by two battles: one for his physical form, and one
for his mental form. Several times was Erendil almost killed
attempting to restore what was his, but he no longer cared for
survival.

The blood was already spilled, and he could
never change that.

Abruptly, the girl shifted her stance and
plunged her weapon into the ground. Its watery form disappeared
from view, instead zipping across the ground to where Erendil
stood. As soon as it reached his feet, it burst from the ground
like a jet. He leaned back, twisting his body as he avoided the
attack. Just as quickly as it appeared, the jet of water retreated
into the ground and raced back to its source.

Taking advantage of the respite, Erendil nocked
several arrows and launched a volley at the girl. A look of
surprise flashed across her face as she let go of her weapon in an
attempt to dodge the barrage—but it was too late. One of the arrows
caught her thigh. It wasn’t long until crimson stained the girl's
leg plate. Immediately, the dark arrows effects drained her,
transferring over to Erendil instead.

He smiled victoriously. Or rather, Akaba
did.

She gasped in pain, but did her best to pick
herself up and scramble for her weapon. Shock shifted to confusion
at her slowed movements, unaware of what the arrow in her leg was
doing. The girl picked her weapon back up and plunged it back into
the ground. Again, the watery tendril zipped toward Erendil. With
his hastened agility, however, he dashed around it and headed
straight to where his opponent was standing. The archer nocked
another arrow as he sprinted, firing it and piercing her shoulder
plate.

She slumped over, her breaths becoming more
ragged. Sweat fell down her face from exertion. Within seconds,
Erendil had closed the gap. He somersaulted over her, landing just
a couple feet away. Realizing too late what was about to occur, the
girl tried to shift her weight and side-step out of the way—

The jet of water shot up from the ground and
through her breastplate in an effort to reach Erendil. He smirked
and dodged it effortlessly before holding up his bow and aiming it
at the girl's head.

She finally turned to lock eyes with Erendil.
Blood gushed from the hole in her chest, and the crimson was
smeared around her mouth as she choked on her own essence. Before
she could say anything, Erendil loosed the last arrow that spelled
the girl's doom.

The girl buckled onto her knees, then fell onto
the cold floor devoid of life.

Inside his own mind, Erendil screamed.

With all the will he could muster, he thrashed
against the entity that bound him. This was his body, and not a
murderer's. The elemental continued to resist, but Erendil would
not relent. Gradually, control slipped into his favor. He amassed
all of his energy into one last burst, and suddenly was back into
the physical world. Back into his own body. He felt the tug in the
back of his mind of his former captive, but he held it at bay.