Volume 1: Arc 3: Chapter 8

AUTHOR'S NOTE

1 more chapter!

Lots of POV's in this chapter.

One note. I'm looking to change the series cover for volume 2. If any of you want to draw it, please pm me.

Thanks

November 19- December 09, 30 R.E

And as the morning light crested the mountain’s expanse, a body was found beneath the ramparts of Kankur’s fortifications. That body was beaten, bloody, and scarred beyond belief; but, it was recognizable. A hero had come home.

Temos, the Scourge of Gaya, had returned to his people. While the citizens in the streets rejoiced, many within the army and the Council felt more than a twinge of apprehension at their hero’s unexpected return.

Even as they bandaged his wounds and nursed him back to health, they kept a careful eye on their hero; however, as the days passed and the Abrian army appeared to retreat, wariness among the soldiers began to recede.

Many came to the conclusion that Temos had been a warning to the rest of the Ventros. They had heard how Temos had been mutilated. His tongue had been jaggedly cut making it impossible for him to communicate and his mind appeared to have been addled as the healers, in their many attempts to communicated with the hero, could not make him respond in the slightest.

As the days passed into weeks, life returned to normal for citizens of Kankur. Most forgot there was even a hero residing in the healing tents. Only a few cared to visit the broken hero now that he was more myth than reality; and most who did, did so out of pity. For Temos was a hero no longer. How could one be a hero when one could not protect his people?

And so, for many of the Ventros, citizens and soldiers alike, their thoughts and prayers turned to one man. Rajac Rashak, Captain of the Army. Many still feared him; hate though, how could one hate a storm, a flood, or an earthquake? He was the embodiment of nature.

It was said he single-handily destroyed the army of Abria. It was said he was so vicious, so bloody, so cruel, and yet, so courageous, that even Gaya would quake at his presence. And so, it came to pass, that the people replaced Temos in their hearts with Rajac; for a hero is a fickle thing. Fear is much more everlasting.

~

Rajac had these thoughts in his mind as he strode through the healing tents erected in a semi-permanent fashion on the edge of the training grounds.

Brushing past guards who bowed low to him, he ducked his head and entered the largest and most solitary of the tents in the camp. Inside, his friend lay, prone as the day he had arrived. There were a few differences though. The dirt and muck had been cleaned from him his body while most of the bruises had healed. Only the harshest punishments doled out to Temos remained on his body.

Quietly, Rajac sat in a corner and began to read absent-mindedly. He came here almost every day now. With the times turning, once again, to peace, Rajac had little to do. Yaka took care of most of the daily bureaucratic duties so Rajac had a lot of free time; he was hesitant to return to his training as it had only been a few weeks since Muhal’s army had retreated and while Yaka seemed to believe the matter was finished with, Rajac wasn’t so sure.

Logic was on Yaka’s side but Rajac knew Muhal; he was a brute. But a loyal one. He would never willingly give up when his master commanded him to complete a task no matter the harm to him or his men. And so, Rajac worried as he sat at Temos’ bedside. Furthermore, he still didn’t know what Temos’ return meant or the effect Muhal was attempting to instill upon Kankur by dumping his broken body for all to see. Was it just a spite-filled attempt to dampen moral in Kankur after Muhal had lost?

Rajac didn’t know and that…that was a problem. He sighed as he turned a page in his book. After a few minutes passed, his sister, Nisa, walked in carrying a metal tray with an assortment of liquid products that could easily be swallowed by the non-responsive Temos.

“Nisa.” Rajac greeted her as she entered. She wore a simple leather jerkin today with tightly-synched pants. No sword today; the healers protested profusely every time she brought it near an injured man. As if she could injure them more with the sharp weapon. That kind of thinking made little sense to Rajac, as he felt the comfortable weight of his own sword dangling from his hip. He had bypassed the guards without so much as a whisper from them. It was doubtful they would ever broach the subject with him.

“Brother.” Nisa said as she set the tray onto a small table next to Temos’ beside and began to pour an orange liquid into a wine glass. As the healing staff was short-handed to the number of injured soldiers, Nisa had volunteered to assist the healers in menial tasks they had no time for; therefore, she had been enlisted by them.

“What do the healers say today?” Rajac said calmly, not even looking up from his book. It was a question he asked daily and the answer never changed.

“He is still unresponsive Rajac. They do not think that will change anytime soon.” Nisa said softly.

Sighing, Rajac turned back to his book. He found the book rather less appealing than it had seemed only moments ago.

~

Nisa Rashak watched her brother leave the tent’s innards an hour later. She had just finished administering the requisite tests to determine the relative range of faculties of the patient. In the weeks since she had been aiding the healers, she had learned a great deal about the Ventros body.

Frankly, most of it made her mind spin. But, she would only be here until the healers were able to train enough of their students to operate independently of them. She hoped that wouldn’t be too long.

Caring for people, even people as heroic as Temos, was tiresome. She’d rather be out there with her brother training.

But life has its little quirks. She bent down to pick up the wicker basket that carried most of the medical supplies within the room. And as she did so, her head dipped below the bed obscuring the occupant, now sitting, ramrod straight, looking directly at her.

~

Muhal had pulled his soldiers back intentionally weeks ago. Foremost, they needed to recuperate. His soldiers, weary of the assaults, had been near to dropping dead from exhaustion. The respite was good for both morale and the overall strength of his army.

Secondly, though, it would take some time for his plan to come to fruition. He had to make the Ventros believe that his army truly had retreated; thus, they would relax their boarder security and his spy, who even now, he could feel in his mind, could destroy that greater race from the inside out.

Finally, after weeks of preparation, Muhal felt the time had come. Ordering his men forward, he bade they stay hidden until the signal was given.

Relaxing into a meditative pose, Muhal opened the eyes of his spy.

Blinking his eyes in a darkened room, the spy rose from his slumber, sitting up in-between cotton sheets. Muhal turned the spy’s head as he looked for any observers. He knew this would be a possibility. This Greater Race man was a hero to the Ventros; they would not throw him out on the streets like a homeless vagabond; no, he would be well care for; perhaps, even watched.

As Muhal looked down, he saw the back of a leather jerkin and a tight knot of black, almost purplish hair. Quietly, Muhal made the spy sit on his knees and hover directly over the woman. For he could see that she was now. Her angular face reminded Muhal of someone but in the cold alacrity of the moment, even Muhal couldn’t place the face with a name.

Reaching the spy’s hands out, he gripped the surprised woman’s head in his hands and began to twist with a surprising strength.

~

Nisa felt utter shock as cold, emaciated fingers closed tightly around her neck and head. She immediately dropped the basket she had her hands loosely gripped on and reached for her sword. When she realized it wasn’t there, panic overwhelmed her.

With desperation, she threw up her hands as she attempted to break her attacker’s hold on her neck and head. Even as she did so, she knew it was a naive and completely futile effort. She had only one regret. She wished, just once, that she could have gone with her brother out into that open, glorious world.

With a snap, Nisa’s world fell into darkness.

~

Rajac felt a shockwave tear through his heart. He was in the army barracks, going over some paperwork with Yaka, when he felt the sensation. What had happened? He felt as if something was very wrong. Without even waiting to give Yaka an excuse, Rajac rushed out of the room.

His first instinct was to head towards Temos. Had he perished? Was this why his heart was fluttering with anxiety?

Sprinting at full speed, he rushed towards the healing tents, arriving in mere seconds. Ignoring the startled comments of the guards, Rajac threw open the flaps to Temos’ tent and found…

A pitying howl emanated from the healing tents. Many thought a wild animal had entered the camp and a few of the more brazen joked to their fellows about hunting the creature. But many more only shivered at the sound. If it was a wild creature, it was in great pain to make such a sound. Those who had the greatest survival skills quietly moved away from the healing tents before they became a passing meal for that savage beast.

~

Muhal guided the spy towards the gate. After he left that woman broken on the floor of the tent, it was easy enough to dawn a cloak and walk in-between people of the same ilk towards, the now, loosely defended fortification.

Looking up with the spy’s eyes, he only saw five guards in total. Two on the ramparts and three directly behind the gate. Smirking, Muhal walked directly up to the guards at the gate and decimated the three guards in front of the gate with a few, well-placed punches. Before the guards on the top of the ramparts could react, Muhal hefted one of the fallen guard’s swords and swung it towards the partition between the walls of the gate. With a crack, the wooden plank that held the doors together splintered into pieces, crashing down to the mud below.

For a few moments, there was silence. Then, out from the dense tree-line, his soldiers let out a unified cry and began to rush towards the open gate. With a flick of the spy’s eyes back towards the city, Muhal released the body, leaving the Ventros man to his fate.

~

Rajac was beyond furious. He was beyond grief. All he could do was chase after the man who did this. He wanted to ask why but he knew. It was all a trap after all. Temos worked for Muhal and, by the sounds emanating from the gate, he had let in Muhal’s army from the inside.

Rajac ran as fast as his speed would allow him and even faster than that. He flexed his soul to the point where he overcame that bottleneck that he had long been struggling with but he did not even notice so lost was he in his grief.

~

Temos awoke with a halting understanding of his surroundings. The last few weeks of his existence had been hazy. Even hazier than the years he had spent being tortured for information. He was tired. So very tired. Enough was enough. He just wanted it to end.

As he closed his eyes, the strength of his body waning, a shout tore through his drifting consensus. Rajac? What was he doing? His friend, face contorted with rage, his eyes… What was wrong with his eyes? They were bleeding like twin rivers of blood.

A strange sight that. Again though, why was he rushing this way? And why the sword? For Temos could see the long, steel short-sword raised directly into the air as if to strike.

Temos didn’t even know that he had been struck as he crumpled to the ground lifeless. He never knew his crimes or how much pain he had already inflicted upon his people. Nor how much more pain he would bring after his death. For Muhal’s army already swarmed through the gates.

Even as Rajac thrust himself on every enemy he could see, more swarmed through the open gates like water through a sieve. Rajac cared not however as blood, once again, began to call to him.

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