The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal) (66 page)

Max laughed, spitting small chunks of roast on the table.  I couldn’t see how he was still eating; his belly looked distended to the point of bursting. 

“Laugh it up, furball,” I muttered, getting back into my chair.  I turned to Sal’.  “Sal’, I’m sorry.  I just . . . Ithan and Til’ . . . their deaths are on my hands.  In my vision,
I
was the one who killed Til’.  If Max is right about me, then you and he could possibly be next.  I couldn’t bear it if either of you died, let alone if I were the one responsible.”

Sal’s expression softened.  “Korin, their deaths are not on your hands.”

I felt the heat of anger stir within me.  “Can you honestly tell me that Ithan would still be dead if I hadn’t killed Lyrak?”  I knew I was yelling, but it felt good.  Another smack sent my chair tilting, but I was able to stabilize it before suffering another fall.

“If we’re going to place blame, let’s start there,” Sal’ fumed.  “Lyrak attacked Briscott, and Til’ saved him, something not even remotely your fault or within your ability to prevent.  Lyrak’s attack angered you to the point of losing control.  That would put
him
to blame.” 

Sal’ leaned closer, her eyes narrowing to slits.  “Or we can go further and blame Max.  After all, he’s the one responsible for your rage-control issue in the first place.  If he hadn’t used your body to cast the spell that saved your Loranis-blooded life, you might be dead, but at least you wouldn’t have any problem with controlling your anger.

“Then again, why did Max even have to save your life?  Because Menar’s men just about killed you.  So that would mean that Menar is to blame.  Oh, but Raijom is the one who sent him after you.  Why did he do that?  Because he has an angry gods-damned god in his gods-damned soul!”  As Sal’s voice rose to a scream, I hunched down into my chair like a scolded child, my anger replaced with humbling shame. 

“Sal’, I—”

“Don’t you
dare
blame yourself again,” Sal’ scolded loudly, shaking a ringed finger at me. 

It would take me a while to fully accept Sal’s words, but she was right.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized meekly.

“As well you should be.  I love you, Korin, but this self-blame of yours has to end.  How far do you expect to make it with such a mindset?”

“You’re right,” I admitted shamefacedly.

“You’re damn right, I am.  Now, listen to me.  I am going with you.  We are going to find a way to defeat Raijom, and Rizear along with him.  I have no intentions on dying any time soon, and I’m sure Max feels the same.” 

“Thank you, Sal’; I needed that.”

Sal’ graced me with a winsome smile in reply.

“If your little spat is finished,” Max began warily, having been speechless during Sal’s tirade, “we should get started on this bracelet.  Assuming that Raijom has the ability to track it, we will only be able to remove it from the abelyr box for very short periods of time.”

“I need to talk to you alone anyway,” Sal’responded, a sudden, pained expression ghosting across her face.
  When she noticed my attention was still on her, she pointedly avoided eye contact with me. 

What d
oes she need to tell Max that she can’t tell me
?
I thought, a little hurt that Sal’ would hide anything from me. 
Why
won’t she meet my eyes
?

“Briscott owes me drinks anyway,” I said, forcing a smile.  I leaned over to give Sal’ a kiss.  “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she echoed, her eyes still averted. 

With a sigh, I started for the door.  I stopped with my hand on the handle and turned, holding up two fingers.  “Before I go, I have two questions for you, Max.  First, what if Raijom’s prophecy has already been fulfilled?  He saw me kill my father and, as you claim that prophecy can be vague, I kind of did.”

“That may be, Korin.  Even if so, it does not mean that you are no longer a threat to Raijom.  If he truly believes you are dead, you are honestly even more of a threat.”

I nodded slowly, hesitant to ask my next question.  With a deep breath, I went for it.  “Second, if my dream of Lantrim was actually a prophecy, does that mean I’ll be responsible for the death I saw around the city?”  In my dream, only the land had been visibly dead, but I could tell that it had meant more than just that.  In my heart, I felt that the barren land had represented the death of everyone within the city.”

“No prophecy is set in stone,” Max replied stoically, his eyes indicating that he had no more to say on the subject.

A silent nod was my only reply to Max’s ambiguous answer.

No prophecy is set in stone
, I mused.  As I stepped through the door and closed it behind me, those words filled my head with something that
was
set in stone: inscriptions on tombstones.

****

Sal’ and Max studied the bracelet for just over a week.  During that time, we remained vigilant for any signs of Raijom sending his lackeys—or eldrhims, for that matter—to retrieve it.  Thankfully, we didn’t encounter any such problems.

With Sal’ and Max primarily focused on the bracelet, Briscott and I were left to spend much of our time together.  We visited Til’s and Ithan’s graves daily, reminiscing about our time with them.  Briscott never went long without fingering the fortune block around his neck. 

My nights were mostly spent with Sal’, and I cherished every single moment we had together.  Memories of her abduction and the death of our friends made me realize just how abruptly those you love can be taken away from you. 

However, I could tell that something was bothering her, something beyond the simple worry of what we were to face in Paigea.  She claimed that nothing was wrong, but I could see the subtle signs—and, in the cases of random bouts of crying and sulking, the not-so-subtle ones—that suggested otherwise. 

I considered approaching Max about it, making the assumption that it had something to do with what she’d told him that first morning in our room.  Instead, I forced myself to accept that I needed to respect her privacy.  That, and Max probably wouldn’t have told me anything anyway.  Furball.

As for learning to adapt to my alleged prophetic ability, Max suggested I try meditation.  He claimed that “centering my mind” would help “draw my magic to the surface.”  I couldn’t silence my troubled thoughts, though.  Just the idea of being a prophet was enough to keep me from reaching the state of calm necessary for meditation to be of any true benefit. 

I discovered a different way to clear my thoughts, however, by practicing with my sword.  It had been far too long since I’d indulged in the once daily ritual. 

Each time I worked through the forms Chasus had taught me so many years before, I was able to completely lose myself in the familiar motions.  Despite winter’s chill, I would end up drenched in sweat with a crowd of curious onlookers gathered around me, hours having passed as if mere moments.  After the first day, Briscott joined in, providing me with a sparring partner in both swordplay and hand-to-hand combat.  Before long, the stiffness in my knee became nothing more than an unpleasant memory. 

Harken’s body was eventually discovered, but panic didn’t break out the way I’d expected it to.  The ending of the war had brought Bherin’s population together, and not even the death of their king could break them apart. 

Harken had no family to inherit his title, so wheels were set in motion to determine his successor.  It was going to take time to spread the news of his death throughout Gualain so that the general population could take part in choosing his replacement.  Even so, from what I’d seen in Bherin, the people of Gualain were going to be fine.  Scarred, but fine.

Each day, I grew more and more wary.  Every moment that passed was another moment that Raijom had to locate us.  Another moment to discover how to destroy or pass through the barriers.  Another moment to exert his influence over Paigea and any other lands in which Rizear’s essence fragments had been freed. 

Basically, if I wasn’t with Sal’, catching up my journal, or working with my sword, I was filled with crippling apprehension.  That apprehension slowly ate at me, trying to consume me entirely.

But then the day came.  Sal’ had finally figured out how to activate the bracelet.  Theoretically, at least.  All that was left to do was to test it.

And by test, I mean throwing caution to the wind.

It was time to leave Amirand.

Epilogue

Indecent Proposal

Our final morning in Bherin found us standing beneath the oak where
Til’ and Ithan lay buried.  Snow swirled lightly around us, the ground a solid blanket of white marred only by our footprints.  After giving our fallen friends one last farewell, we were ready to put our lives into Fiella’s bloody hands. 

I should’ve been scared.  Hell, I should’ve been terrified.  But I wasn’t.  In the dream I’d had after killing Lyrak, my father had told me that I would succeed in preserving the world.  Max’s insistence that the dream was in truth a prophecy emboldened me.  I was certain that we’d make it to Paigea safely.  I only hoped that the great sacrifice my father had spoken of had already passed.

Briscott and I wore our armor, Max having been able to draw the bloodstains from mine with magic.  Sal’ had opted for thick gray pants and a loose, green button-up shirt.  Max claimed that we’d be stepping into an even harsher winter in Paigea, so we’d all purchased new cloaks and gloves.

Each of us—squirrels not withstanding—carried supply-laden backpacks filled to bursting with food and water.  Mine also contained my journal and a piece of woodwork that I’d salvaged from Til’s belt pouch, one he’d never shown me.  On a thick square of wood, a lifelike relief of our group—Sal’, Max, Briscott, Ithan, Til’, and me—was carved, our faces bearing joyful smiles.  Til’s work was so realistic that it was like staring into a mirror.  Bordering the relief, swirling loops intertwined and twisted with breath-catching beauty.  The carving brought tears to my eyes each time I looked at it. 

Max’s Reservoir was full.  Sal’ had a leather-wrapped, metal cage hanging from a strap slung diagonally across her chest, two small rabbits contained within it.  Briscott had his bow, along with a new sword.  With my Vesteir-sigiled shortsword at my hip and a dagger that had been Til’s tucked in my boot, I was as ready as I’d ever be. 

“Is everyone ready?” Max asked.  Not that our answer would matter.  Ready or not, we were going.  Enough time had already passed.

“In a moment,” I replied, pulling Max from my shoulder and passing him to Briscott.  He responded with an affronted huff, which I purposefully ignored as I pulled Sal’ aside. 

“Don’t even think you can talk me out of going,” Sal’ warned.  The look in her eyes took me back to my first days of knowing her.  Something about that made me smile.  “I’m serious. If you believe for a single moment that—”

I pulled Sal’ forward into a passionate kiss, one that lasted long enough to prompt throat clearings from Max and Briscott to remind me of the imperative concerns looming over us. 

Leaning back, I kept my eyes locked on Sal’s.  The memory of Til’ voicing his desire for what Sal’ and I shared had gotten me thinking.  “Sal’, I know there’s something going on with you, something you feel you cannot share with me—”

“Korin, I—”

I placed a finger over her lips.  “I only hope that it won’t affect your response.”

Sal’s brow furrowed, her pale blue eyes confused.  “What are you talking about?”

I grabbed both of her hands, drawing them to my chest, right over my heart.  “Sal’, will you marry me?” 

There was a brief moment of stunned silence.  My heart took that moment to climb into my throat. 

Sal’s mouth opened as if to reply, but before she could speak, I started rambling like an awkward youth asking a girl to dance for the first time.  “I mean, I know it’s sudden, but I also know that I love you.  We may not make it through this next part of our journey, and in case we don’t, I want you to know just how much you mean to me.  I don’t have much to offer, really.  I don’t even have a betrothal ring . . .”

“Korin,” Sal’ interjected softly.

“And I know you deserve more—flowers at the very least.  But I—”

“Korin!” Sal’ interrupted, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”  Sal’s pouty lips curled into the smile I’d fallen in love with, and a line of moisture formed across her lower eyelids.  “Of course I’ll marry you!” she answered after an eternity or two.  She threw her arms around me, pulling my lips to hers.  My heart dropped back into my chest and started slamming against my ribs.  I felt Sal’s heart beating with the same pounding rhythm as she pressed against me.

“Seriously?”
Max muttered behind us.

“Give them a break, Max,” Briscott replied with a catch in his voice. 
“Love and Loranis above all.”

Sal’ and I broke from our kiss, staring lovingly into one another’s eyes.  “I hope you don’t mind marrying a lowly farmboy.  Oh, and the heir to an empire,” I smiled.  “Though, if we make it through this, you might have to settle for the farm.  I know it wouldn’t be the ideal life for the daughter of the Grand Wizard, but it could be
our
life.”

Sal’ laughed, her eyes sparkling.  “Korin, if you can settle for that life once this is all over, I’d love nothing more than to share it with you.”  She ran a hand down the side of my face.  “It’s a good thing I don’t plan on going back to the Academy, because my father would kill me if he knew about this.”

“Worst case scenario, we basically have a whole other world we can hide from him in, if need be.”  Sal’ laughed at my horrible joke, but Max just groaned.

“So,” I continued, “I was thinking that since we’re about to step into the unknown that now would be a good time for the ceremony.”  I gestured reverently towards the two graves.  “And this may be the last time we’ll all be together.  What do you say?”

Sal’ nodded, beaming at me with watery eyes and an almost literal glow.

I turned my head to look over my shoulder. 
“Briscott, care to officiate?”

“I’d be honored to,” Briscott answered warmly.

“Make it quick,” Max huffed.  “Not to imply that I am not happy for the two of you, but you know, evil wizards and gods of death and all.”

My eyes went back to Sal’s, my love for her overriding all other concerns, even ones of “evil wizards and gods of death and all.”  “Okay, then. 
Briscott, care to officiate
quickly
?”

Briscott chuckled, stepping before Sal’ and me.  “May Loranis bless you both with love and long
life.  You may seal your union with a kiss.”

“Good enough for me,” Sal’ laughed, leaning forward for another kiss. 

Strands of wavy hair blew across Sal’s face after I reluctantly pulled back from our first kiss as husband and wife.  “Sal’, I’ll always love you,” I promised.  Only a matter of weeks before, I’d have never thought such words would ever escape my lips.  Still, I meant every word with all my heart and soul.

“And I you,” Sal’ replied, smiling broadly, a single tear escaping down her cheek.  Her eyes shifted to Max, and her smile wavered.  With a sigh, she looked back into my eyes.  “We should go.” 

I bit my lip and nodded, trying not to let whatever was eating at her diminish the joy of our union. 

Yes, the marriage was sudden, and no, I hadn’t planned it beforehand.  Between the memory of my last conversation with Til’ and standing on the precipice of the unknown, however, the urge had just struck me.  At that moment, it had just felt right.  I didn’t need to be a prophet to know that my future was with Sal’, no matter how short that future might be.

“Congratulations, you two,” Briscott said, putting an arm around each of us.  “You know, back in Jefren’s camp, I never would’ve expected my life to lead me here.  Korin, I blighting didn’t expect either of us to even live this long.  But seeing the love between the two of you, I realize that despite the bad, we’ve still been blessed.  Just as Loranis has seen us through difficult times before, he will see us through this, and you two will share a lifetime of happiness.  I’m sure of it.”

Whether or not Loranis existed to do anything, Briscott’s words filled me with warmth.  I knew that I’d never look down on godly worship again.  Okay, that’s a lie.  I mean, some people worship Brilit, the goddess of clover. 
Clover
.  I couldn’t make this stuff up even if I wanted to.

“Thank you, Briscott.  As much as I hate the circumstances we met under, I’m glad we did.”

Max transferred from Briscott’s shoulder to mine.  “And, believe it or not, I am happy for you as well.  Korin, you could not have found a more perfect bride.”  He gave me a warm grin and then looked to Sal’.  “Salmaea, you, on the other hand, could do much better.”

I playfully swatted at Max, who easily dodged my hand by scampering back to Briscott’s shoulder. 
“Furball.”

Max gave me a huge, squirrelly grin.  “Love you too, lunkhead.  Do not take my blessing as permission to take time to
celebrate
your marriage, though.”

I smiled right back.  I wouldn’t have expected, or wanted, any less cheeky of a statement from him.  Besides, Sal’ and I had already taken the time to “celebrate” that morning, just minus the whole husband and wife part.  Of course, Max didn’t really need to know that . . . he’d been sleeping at the foot of the bed during our “celebration.” 

“Okay, everyone, let’s do this,” Sal’ announced, pulling the bracelet from the abelyr box.  The bracelet looked as if it were made from baked clay, its ruddy surface dull.  “Max, are you ready?”

“As ready as I will be, Mrs. Karell.  Or is Korin to be Mr. Fellway?” 

I rolled my eyes.  “Very funny, Max.” 

Sal’ flashed me another smile, which I returned in earnest.  “Here goes.”

Sal’ slipped her hand through a small hatch on the top of the cage at her hip and closed her eyes.  For several heartbeats, nothing happened.  Just as I began to worry that the bracelet wasn’t going to work, a tiny silver light flashed into existence before us, shining as brightly as the sun.  Sal’s body began to tremble, her breath sounding forced through her flaring nostrils.  The light started to grow larger.

“Almost,” Max said.  “Keep going, Salmaea.  You can do this.”

Sal’ grunted a response through clenched teeth.  The light continued to expand, decreasing in brightness as it grew.  After a few more moments, a silver disc of light wide enough for us all to walk through side by side hovered before us.

“Perfect,” Max announced, prompting Sal’ to let out a deep breath and open her eyes.  She panted as if she’d just climbed a mountain. 

Before us lay a portal to Paigea, its shimmering silver surface reflecting our images like a mirror.  Anxiety tore through my body.  I yanked the Vesteir-sigiled fortune block from beneath my armor, holding it in a death grip, trying to prevent myself from focusing on the fear.

“Join hands, everyone,” Max commanded. 

Sal’s fingers threaded through my own on one side, Briscott tightly grasping my hand on the other.  Max leapt back to my shoulder.  As one, we slowly stepped up to the silver portal, pausing with its surface only an arm’s length away. 

My thoughts went to Til’ and Ithan, wishing they could be with us.  Til’ would’ve been so excited to venture into the unknown, while Ithan would’ve been eager to experience magic that had never been seen by any wizard at the Academy.  I missed them both.  I always would.

“When I say go, step through,” Max ordered.  He looked up to me, giving me a solemn nod, which I returned.  Looking to my right, I exchanged another nod with Briscott.

I then turned my head to the left, meeting Sal’s beautiful eyes. 
The eyes of my wife.  “I love you,” I mouthed with a lopsided grin.  She mouthed the same three words, squeezing my hand for emphasis.

“Go!”

And with that simple command, we stepped forward into the light.