CHAPTER THREE

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Ezil

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12th of Decepter, 935 PC

Hidden deep in the forgotten valleys of The Emerald Wood sat the small village of Steppe. Few had ever braved the dangers of the surrounding forest in order to find the majestic village, even fewer had ever found it. Thus, as Ezil watched it burn from beneath the trees on the hillside, a great sense of satisfaction filled him. A moon spent in this treacherous forest. Time well spent to be heralded as a hero I suppose. She will shower me with praise and gold for what I’ve done. And a hero he would be. The Purists had used the hidden village as a place to stowaway important figures for half a decade. The most recent were the Marsallas, Elmeney and Idliock. Elmeney was a Purist, a Comprehensionist to be exact. Her expertise, science. Idliock was a commoner, but a brilliant one. He had spent many years teaching at University da Mi’lier before being forced to flee Locke and go into hiding due to their work on a reversal for the effects of lotus magic. To no one’s surprise, The Lotus Queen wanted them brought to her. Alive. Ezil was unsure as to what she intended to do with the Marsallas when he delivered them to her, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was the glory that would come with it.

Screams echoed through the valley, reverberating off the cliffs that towered over the village. Purple streaks of magical energy sailed through the light snowfall, shredding the wooden cabins and helpless people without prejudice. As Ezil watched, one man stood out amongst the chaos. Laspin Rouille. His long brown hair was crinkled and greasy, his thick arms were moving quickly, pointing toward fleeing victims as he controlled the scene. Laspin will make a fine replacement when I’m inevitably promoted. Disciplined, strategic, cutthroat, he’s everything she wants in her captains.

Ezil pulled his cloak tighter and turned to the commoner beside him. Urman Gant looked far different than he had when they set out on their arduous journey. What had been a perfectly clean-shaven face was now covered by an unruly black beard. His skin was pale from weeks of being buried beneath thick winter clothes. Large bags hung beneath his eyes. Holes tattered his old cloak. Certainly looks as insane as they claim him to be. Urman was something of a living legend. Though, a criminal was probably a better description. Wit to outsmart anyone, fighting skills to outclass most, and a deviously charming personality to go along with the rest. Ezil had been cautious when the man approached him, knowing the commoner likely had something up his sleeve, but his deal was too attractive to ignore. Access to Steppe and the Marsallas in exchange for a document more precious to The Lotus Queen than her own child. Surprisingly, Ezil could not deny that during the moon they had been together their relationship had gone from tumultuous at best to something that resembled a friendship. Solidified by a night when the commoner had saved him from the clutches of the deadly harrow vines that stalked those who traveled through this part of The Emerald Wood.

I could not have done this without him. The thought both pleased and sickened him. Everything worked so perfectly. He held up his end of the bargain. I will have the Marsallas soon enough. All that’s left to do is put Urman in shackles. The three most wanted people in the empire. I’ll be more than a hero. I’ll be written about in the annals of time. Two things crossed Ezil’s mind. First, the difficulty of shackling a man like Urman and second, guilt. A heavy guilt seeped into his vulnerability, chipped away at his ego. He tried to shoo it away. No matter how friendly I’ve gotten with him, he’s still beneath me. He’s a commoner, and a deadly one. He deserves to be put away. Beheaded. Besides, if the Lotus Queen knew I chose to let him get away she’d take my head from my shoulders. He had been warned. All the Lotus officers had been made aware of how dangerous Urman could be and more importantly, how badly the Lotus Queen wanted him dead. No. You ate together. Drank together. Survived together. I cannot turn him in now. I won’t.

“I’m sorry Urman… for the arguments and accusations. I was wrong to ever doubt you.” His breath floated off into the cold air.

Urman was staring up at the walls of cliffs around the valley. Apparently trying his best to ignore the carnage below them. “Would have gotten here quicker if we could have used one of them flying brigantines you’re always in,” he said. Ezil could count on one hand how many times he had heard a voice that made him as uncomfortable as Urman’s. Even as a friend.

“Aye, that is true. But we both know how loud the cloudcruisers are. Best we didn’t give the Marsallas an opportunity to hear us coming.” Ezil paused, considered his next words carefully. Decided to offer Urman a piece of advice. “I should warn you. Improvements to the cloudcruisers are being made as we speak. It won’t be long before they are cutting through the air like silent assassins.”

Urman grinned but didn’t speak. There was careful consideration in his eyes but Ezil knew what he really cared about. But he’d make him wait a bit longer. Whether he’s your friend or not, you are still the superior here. Don’t let him forget who’s in control.

“You’ll receive what you are owed when the Marsallas lay at my feet,” said Ezil.

Urman didn’t like hearing that. “Where they gonna go, Ezil?” Urman growled, then smiled wryly. Even beneath his thick facial hair his smile was somehow enchanting. “Your Lotus have ‘em surrounded, do they not?” He blew into his cupped hands to warm them. There were cracks and cuts all over his fingers.

Sensing the commoner’s temper simmering beneath his charisma, Ezil softened his own tone. “I understand. And I trust you.” No need to upset him now. I’m too close. “I just want to make sure they’re here,” said Ezil calmly. “It’s a big empire. They could have left without your knowledge.” He turned his sights back on the village, his hands behind his back peacefully, pride making him grin like a child. Corpses littered the luscious grass that surrounded the cabins. Men and women in light green gambesons were checking bodies, killing those who held onto shreds of life.

“I brought ‘em here myself,” said Urman. “Told ‘em how safe they’d be, how no one could find ‘em up here.” He readjusted the hood of his cloak to look at Ezil better. “They’re here. That I know as truth.” He never lied to you once, they’re surely in there. Ezil considered giving the man what he wanted before ultimately holding off.

Suddenly, a man burst through the back door of one of the log cabins below with a loud bang. He sprinted toward the hillside opposite the one they stood on. Tension built in Ezil’s chest. There were two Lotus not far from the fleeing man but they were preoccupied with stupidly examining something behind a pile of firewood.

Urman laughed beside him. “Your heroes are at it again,” he said. Hurd and Spader. Idiots. I should feed them to the harrow vines and be done with them. The only reason he hadn’t yet was because their laziness and inadequacies had entertained Urman, gave them something to talk about, helped kindle a friendship. But when he was done with Urman, his first act would be killing the fools.

The man was dangerously close to getting away.

“Kill him,” he whispered to his men. A moment later the man’s desperate escape was cut down as a purple streak of energy tore through the air and smashed into his shoulder. It sent him flying sideways, arms flailing. When his tumbling body came to a rest he was motionless. Well done Laspin.

Not long after the failed escape, a woman in Ezil’s outfit named Ulla Pallani emerged from a cabin on the far side of the village. The Yilan warrior braid hung deep down her back. Two figures, one male, one female, followed closely. Their wrists were bound by rope, their bodies linked together at their waists. More Lotus exited the building behind the captives. The Marsallas. I’ve done it. Ezil exhaled, letting out all the tension and frustration that had built up during their journey.

“There,” said Urman. “See. Man of my word. Now the scroll tube.” He put his dry, crack hand out impatiently. “Please.” Again, he smiled at Ezil. This time Urman’s smile said it’s best you don’t make me wait any longer.

“Fine Gant!” Ezil snapped playfully. A smile on his face too, his own formed from a mixture of excitement and uncomfortable tension. He made his way toward his backpack that lay on the ground nearby, praising himself along the way. I’ve done it. I’ll sit on her counsel by the end of the month. “You know Urman, the Lotus Queen-” Suddenly, a hand was over his mouth, cold steel at his neck. He froze. Dry, cracked skin rubbed against his lips.

Urman whispered into his ear. “It’ll be a cold day in the three hells before I let ya take me to her.” Ezil’s heart was racing. Beg for your life. I’m so close to glory. Not now. Please.

He screamed into Urman’s hand, desperate to tell him he would not turn him in, but his words were muffled and indecipherable. Your magic. Before he could move, the blade slid across his neck. Blood spurted into the air around them. His head hit the ground hard. And like that, Ezil Ek’regar was no more.