Heir to the Sundered Crown (17 page)

Ferren shrugged. “He is a god who was lost. Folk forget things easily. Anyway, I’ll get back to finishing my tale’ the Nightblade said with a hint of annoyance at the interruption.

“Rindar the god of light, and Esperin the god of darkness defended their mother’s world from their vile brother’s hoards but they were not strong enough to oppose him. The three gods battled in the skies of the world until Rindar was struck down. To stop Vectrix the god of Light came up with a plan.

“We must become one to defeat evil” he told his sister. Esperin, despite her powers was no match for Vectrix so she joined with Rindar, light and dark merged into one to become Chiaroscuro the god of balance.

The new god battled Vectrix, wiping out his monsters and casting them into the void. However, despite their combined might the new god could not destroy Vectrix. It was a stalemate.

To break the deadlock in their struggle the two gods met on Esperia. There they agreed to a challenge. Vectrix lent some of Aniron’s essence to Chiaroscuro.

“I will prove to you that my creations are worthy of life.” Vectrix said. “Use the power I granted you to see if you are worthy of this gift you seek.”

Seeing no other way to break the deadlock Chiaroscuro agreed.

Vectrix created the Necrist. Millions of the hideous creatures burst from the dead things of the world.

“I bring life from death” Vectrix boasted.

Chiaroscuro thought for a long time at what to make. Finally the god created something that combined the essence of both light and dark. Man.

The first men were tall, strong and imbued with power. To give their new creations the power to defeat the Necrist, Chiaroscuro granted them some of its own power in the form of magic.

Man waged war with the Necrist. Using magic the first men destroyed the Necrist banishing the beasts to the Void. The war had taken a heavy toll on Chiaroscuro’s creation. Out of the millions that had been created only two men remained, Niveren and Danon. Niveren was the embodiment of Light whilst Danon was of the dark.

“We have won the challenge brother.” Chiaroscuro said. “Too much death has resulted from this war. Instead of killing you we will allow you to slink to your own creation and remain there till the end of time.”

And so it was that Vectrix was banished to the Void and Chiaroscuro became the one god of the universe. 

A long time later a mage whose name was lost to history inadvertedly opened up a portal to the void. Unable to reseal it, the monsters of Vectrix entered the world of man and the first of the fell beasts burst forth from the Void. At first the beasts ran rampant across the world but, an alliance of the kingdoms of the first folk known as the Niver banded together and over time culled the beast’s numbers.’

Ferran paused for effect.

“The best at hunting the monsters of the void were the specialist magic yielding hunters known as the Nightblades, the order which still defends the realm from the voids horrors today...that is when they aren’t cowering in Caldaria,” he added with resentment in his tone. 

He looked over at his audience.

He chuckled when he spotted Luxon on his back and snoring loudly.

“Guess I’m not much of a story teller...” Ferran grumbled as he too settled down to grab some sleep.

*

Dawn came and with it a shower of rain. The sky which had been blue and clear the previous day was now full of angry black clouds. Luxon awoke to find Gric and Alira sat next to the fire cooking some of the bacon and eggs that they had packed. The smell made his stomach growl loudly and his mouth water.

He sat up with a wide yawn and stretched. His muscles were tight and he grunted with satisfaction as his back clicked. The sheet of cloth had done well to protect them all from the rain, all except for Sophia whose sleeping spot had been drenched. Now she was moaning about the weather. She had chosen to sleep away from the others, instead choosing to sleep under a tree rather than in the camp. Ferran was already up checking his horse and packs. The Knight however was gone.

“Where’s Yepert? Luxon asked bleary eyed. He wondered over to the fire and took a seat next to the old pedlar who was humming a happy tune to himself. He looked refreshed and spritely, not what you would expect for someone as old as the trader.

Alira looked up from prodding a piece of crackling bacon in a sizzling pan. She too looked as though she had slept well her large blue eyes looked fresh and healthy. Her long blonde hair was loose and flowed like a river down her back, her fringe was in her eyes. Luxon had to stop himself from reaching over and pushing it back behind her ear. He was surprised to see her give him a warm smile, he thought she disliked him.

“He’s down the hill over there,’ she said pointing to the trees on the other side of the road. ‘There’s a stream, so he’s filling up our water flasks.”

Ferran paused checking his pack.

“He’s gone where?” the Nightblade asked, his voice low and tinged with anger.

“The stream...,” Alira replied meekly.

Ferran pulled out the Tourmaline sword which hung at his belt and snapped his fingers at Sophia who jogged over to him.

“That foolish boy has wondered off of the road. I can’t tell how far the rune stones magic will reach and with a banshee about...” he didn’t have to finish his sentence. Sophia ran over to her horse grabbed her bow and together they set off into the trees. Kaiden was about to join them when Ferran held up a hand to stop him.

“No Sir Knight, stay with the others. I and Sophia have hunted Banshees before, if we need backup we will call for it.”

With that, the witch hunter and Nightblade headed off after the missing boy.

*

Yepert was cheerfully humming a tune from Plock; it was a merry song that his grandfather always used to sing.

“The merry old fisherman left the shiny shore to sail the shiny sea...Hum de dum de dum...” The fast flowing stream was clear and cool after coming down from the mountains and foothills.

He was oblivious to the world around him as he dipped one water flask after the other into the water. Woodland and scrub bordered the rivers course; the noise of insects flitting from flower to flower in frenetic activity as they prepared for the coming change of seasons filled the air.

He didn’t notice the temperature fall.

He shivered pulling his cloak tighter around himself. Still he hummed merrily. He didn’t notice when the sounds of nature ceased. Still he hummed his grandfather’s tune. His hands were growing numb from the chilled river water but still he was unaware of what was slowly moving up behind him. It was only when a shadow cast over him did he stop. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and his breath came out as steam. Ice had formed in his hair. Slowly he turned, and screamed.

*

Ferran and Sophia ran through the undergrowth snapping twigs and shoving branches from their faces as they went. The scream had spurred them into action. The scream was quickly followed by that unearthly of all screams. The banshees call. Ferran leapt through a hedge landed and rolled into the river. Sophia was right behind him her bow raised with its cord drawn, a deadly silver tipped arrow ready to fly.

In the river was Yepert. The boy was scrambling backwards on his hands, his feet desperately kicking as he tried to escape the monster that reached for him with its long pale arms.

The Banshee was a thing from nightmares. It drifted above the surface of the river its body covered in a long purple and torn cloak, its hands were claws, but worse of all was the smell of death it brought with it.

“Leave him alone foul beast!” Ferran bellowed. He drew his tourmaline sword conjuring the blade enthused with magic into life. The weapon hummed in his hand its silver light aimed at the Banshee which spun to face the Nightblade.

Yepert was in the river on his back his thrashings ceasing as he blacked out. Now the lad drifted helplessly downstream and was being carried away by the rivers rapid flow.

Sophia loosed her arrow striking the banshee where a normal persons head would have been. It reeled backwards with a screech. Raising a hand the fell beast blasted the witch hunter backwards with magic, sending her flying to land heavily against the riverbank. Ferran didn’t hesitate. He unleashed his own magic. With one hand he launched a volley of fireballs at the banshee whilst he aimed his sword. The fireballs ignited the banshee’s cowl causing it to thrash about. With a shout he leapt high into the air slashing downwards with all of his might.

The Tourmaline blade fell; piercing the creature and cutting it almost clean in two. The banshee screamed once more trying to strike at the Nightblade who now rained blow after blow upon it. The banshee was more a spirit than a monster but still the magical weapon inflicted it pain. Ferran retreated a few paces unbuckling a vial from his belt.

“In the name of the Nightblades be gone from this world!”He yelled hurling the vial at the reeling banshee. The vial lit up before shattering into a thousand fragments. The magic inside was released sending the fell beast back to whence it came.

An explosion knocked Ferran off of his feet, sending him flying backwards to land next to the unconscious Sophia. The banshee was sucked into the created void breach. With a final scream the creature faded from existence to return to the gap between worlds. 

“KAIDEN!” He shouted as loud as he could, the knight could look after Sophia, the boy on the other hand needed help.

“The boy!” he shouted as he scrambled back onto his feet and dove into the river. He swam as hard as he could, the rivers current increasing his speed. After a few moments he caught sight of the boy’s body floating face down against an outcropping of rocks. Desperately he swam towards him. He reached Yepert and hauled his head out of the water.

“C’mon boy don’t be dead,”

He looked around for a way out of the river. He hooked an arm under the lads and swam towards the bank where tree roots provided an ample grip to clamber out of the icy water.

Yepert wasn’t breathing.

Ferran swore under his breath, he was no healer. He picked up the boy and carried him back up the river, desperate to reach the others.

*

“Help me!” Ferran shouted as he drew closer to the camp. He was soaked through. His sodden clothes were weighing him down. He crossed the river again and reached the tree in which Sophia had landed. He was relieved to see that the witch hunter was gone; Kaiden must have taken her back to the campsite.

A call came from the trees. It was the blonde haired girl Alira. She was pointing and gesturing wildly. Soon Kaiden appeared, the knight burst through the hedgerows and jumped down to the bank to help Ferran carry Yepert up the slope.

“By Niveren what has happened to the lad, his skin is as white as snow...” The Knight breathed as he hauled the heavy boy upwards. Luxon and Gric ran to their aid, each lending a hand. Upon seeing his friend pale and unmoving Luxon’s stomach fell, he fought to keep tears from his eyes.

“The boy is not breathing..,” Ferran panted breathlessly.  The old pedlar pushed him aside to kneel over Yepert, his old face was full of concern but also with profound concentration. There was wisdom in his eyes that Luxon recalled seeing on the face of many of the mages of Caldaria.

“Move aside. Let me look,” Gric said irritably. He pulled some spectacles from his coat pocket and affixed them securely to his nose. Next he pulled a small mirror from another pocket and held it above Yeperts face.

“Was it a banshee that did this?” Gric asked all business like. Ferran nodded in the affirmative.

“It was. I sent it back to the void. The boys been struck by the Banshee curse hasn’t he?” the Nightblade replied a hint of hopelessness in his tone. He was stunned when the old man slapped him hard around the face.

“Do not speak as though there is no hope. Be strong for your comrades if nothing else, oh fearless Nightblade.’

The pedlar grunted in satisfaction as steam appeared on the mirror.

‘The boy is not dead, just paralysed by the banshees scream. If it were the Banshee curse then he would already be turning into a banshee himself,” Gric explained. The fire in his eyes faded somewhat as Ferran looked away ashamed.

“Now, you,” the old man said pointing to Luxon and Alira. “You move your friend over there next to fire,’ he smiled kindly as he saw the worry on their faces.

‘Do not fear young ones, old Gric knows what to do. Your friend will be fine.”

Together with Kaiden’s help they carried Yepert and settled him on a pile of the pedlar’s cushions close to the fire where Huin was preparing an iron pot full of water.

“How is your head my dear?” Gric asked Sophia who was lying next to the rune stone with a bag of ice pressed against the back of her head.

“I’m fine...my heads a little sore but I’ve suffered worse. Guess I must be a little rusty at the whole hunting monsters thing,” Sophia replied softly. She winced as she tentatively rubbed her head. Ferran was about to walk over to her but she flashed him a look that would terrify Danon himself. The Nightblade thought better of it.

“Girl pass me that satchel there,” Gric asked Alira. ‘And get us some more water from the river. Perhaps the brave Knight and Nightblades can assist you?” he cackled. The young girl picked up a large bag from next to the Pedlars makeshift bed and handed it over, its contents clinking noisily. Gric opened the satchel and rooted around its contents, all the while he whistled a merry little tune.

Alira took the bucket handed to her by Huin and headed off for the river; Kaiden close behind, his sword already drawn. Ferran followed.

Something about the old man set Luxon at ease. Although he feared for his friend he got the feeling that the Pedlars had dealt with their share of wounds in the past. Something also told him that they weren’t just any ordinary traders.

Gric emptied two vials of blue liquid into the pot and took a ladle from Huin who was piling more wood onto the flames. Luxon edged closer to the pedlars.

“Who are you?” Luxon asked the old man quietly after making sure they were out of ear shot. He got the impression that Gric and Huin didn’t want anyone to know their true identities. Gric stopped stirring his eyes going wide. Huin too stopped his eyes darting about as though looking for an escape route.