Three Ruined Realms E-Book

Ann W. T

• Herausgeber: WS
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Hallowed Wars
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 621

Beschreibung

Journey through Hallowed Wars: Three Ruined Realms, a world crafted with exclusive illustrations and immersive worldbuilding, where ancient powers clash for sovereignty.

Everything has its own balance, and it is the sole duty of the Divine Order of the Orphys Knights to maintain it.

Yet the Order is failing.

The Divines have forever ruled and bestowed upon the Mortal Realm Their blessing and grace, however, humans had always counted on the Divine Order and its Ancient creatures to protect them and keep the peace between the kingdoms. Yet when the Order loses its influence and power alongside its unique creatures, people do not seem to notice that their times of peace and grace are near their end. And that without the Order and its Knights, dying crops and surging illnesses will be the least of their worries.

As heir to the throne, Kayden is set to revive the Order and bring back its roots; to find the Ancient creatures that for decades have their fates unknown. Yet what begins as Kayden's own wishes and dreams to save a kingdom soon becomes the Divines’ own will when the fate of the entire Mortal Realm comes into play. Kayden is tasked to reunite the new Knights and their Ancients, however, the Divines do not inform how much time the Order has to do so. All Kayden knows is that time is not favoring them mortals and once calamity strikes, there will be nothing left to save.

The Divines’ will is absolute, yet will Kayden be able to fulfill it before everything ends?

Leseprobe

HALLOWED WARS:

Three Ruined Realms

By Ann W. T

Three Ruined Realms is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and events are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, events, locales, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2023 by Ann W. T. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the author.

Edited by Anne-Marie Rutella

Book design by Lya Alves

Illustrations by Lya Alves

Map Illustration by Ann W. T

Ebook ISBN 978-1-7383426-0-0

CONTENT WARNING

This is an adult novel targeted to mature audiences. Some content presented in this book may be upsetting to some readers such as adult themes, violence, strong language, and graphic descriptions. Readers’ discretion is advised.

To my Grandfather; my second dad.You wouldn’t have understood the story or even liked it that much. Yet you were and will continue to be, always, my number one fan.

Contents

Chapter I

Bedtime Tales, Wartime Cries

A Dark Eye from the Gallows

Ten Stars in Blackened Skies

Ties Shackled by Blood

A Sight Too Bright to See

Chapter II

Envies From an Old Soul

The Lion’s Roar

A Divines’ Call

Beware of the Gallows

Chapter III

Ten Stars in Clouded Skies

The Great Demonic War

Winds That Flow Adrift

A Pretty Punch in The Jaw

A Sight Too Blind to Miss

Blood Ceremony

Chapter IV

Curse Through Ancient Blood

Farewell, Great Gallows

Talk in a Haze

Stale Winds

Blood and Stones

Decaying Freedom

Influx Winds

Chapter V

Reawakening

The Legend of Kih Nähsur

A Fool’s Covet

The Weight of Choice

The Sound of the Realm

Chapter VI

In a New Tomorrow

Three Realms, Three Pillars

A Sight Too Strong to Hold

The Lion and The Snake

Stigma of a Red Knight

Chapter VII

Child’s Play

Promises of The Wind

The Mighty Lion

Golden Stars in A Silver Sky

Chapter VIII

Bound By Blood

A Warrior’s Honor

Blessed by The World

A Kiss From The Gallows

Chapter IX

A Dance Sharper Than Knives

Feral Darkness

Echoes From The Abyss

Chapter X

The Misery of Those Who Know

Gallows’ Red Sun

Divine Strings

A Secret From The Gallows

Chapter XI

Will of The Wind

A Warrior’s Duty

Challenged By The Gallows

A Witch’s Call

Chapter XII

A Witch’s Lament

An Old Star’s Lost Glow

By A Cold Night

A Sight from the Gallows

A Warrior’s Scars

A Warrior’s Blood, A Witch’s Poison

Chapter XIII

A Witch’s Penitence

Entrapment of A Star

To Reach A Lost Star

Chapter XIV

Betrayed By The Gallows

A Warrior’s Cry

Chapter XV

Rise of A Star

The Curse of The Sight

Interlude

He Who Brings Darkness

Acknowledgments

Arcs Guide

Part I - The Divine Order

Chapter I

To ward those below and secure those above

To shield our hearths and embrace our lands

To protect the realm and maintain its faith

To bring light and sustain hope

To never falter be it Bless or Gallows

To fight for honor and sustain life

This oath I take binding heart and soul

- The Divine Oath, created by the Divine Order of Orphys Knights’ founders.

Bedtime Tales, Wartime Cries

Fall of Night

It happened in a time long past, a time when men’s blood drenched the very soil they fought on and the air was weighted with a stench of war and despair. In the West, three great kingdoms lived in dismay, stuck in a battle that held no promises to ever end. Carnarbur, Raevich, and Albaron, the most powerful kingdoms where only peace was away from their grasp.

“Why did they fight so, Nana? Were they mad with each other? Could they not apologize and hold hands?”

If a good reason ever existed for the everlasting bloodshed, it had long been forgotten. No matter if it was greed, betrayal, misunderstandings or covetousness, a point was reached where the war’s single purpose was to exist and prevail. On every chance the kings would attempt to end the devious thing, yet on each chance a corruption would appear, tainting their hopes of harmony. To all it felt as if the Divines had abandoned the realm, leaving their fates to their own demise.

“Why would the Divines do so, Nana? Aren’t the great Divines supposed to help us in our time of need?”

None can truly grasp the reasoning of the Divines nor Their intentions. What mattered was that hunger ailed the kingdoms and Death delivered its kiss from Wake till Gallows, marking those times with nothing but darkness. But there came a day when one of the three kings fell ill and a hope emerged from the depths of their tainted war for it was the ill king’s wish to see an end to that calamity before he passed. However, on a frightening Gallows—

“The firstborns! They all died at the same Gallows, isn’t that so, Nana?!”

All three firstborns were found in their beds, murdered in the cruelest way, blood neither warm nor cold, pure horror in their eyes. No kingdom claimed guilt yet all fingers were pointed. A new grief covered every village and every house, for people knew their hope had died alongside the three heirs that night.

“Who killed them? Did the Divines punish them, Nana?”

To this day, the real perpetrator is nothing but a mystery. No trails were left behind except the blood of the ones who perished and like so, the war prevailed. It was on the first full moon of winter, on the day of the First Snow with the wind whispering and the trees cowering, that ten noble knights reunited in secret. They were all desperate to end such a cursed war, fearing for the fates of their kingdoms. So, a plan was made and before winter came to an end, all ten knights were facing their kings with soldiers and citizens by their side. The ten knights threatened the three kings, swearing to end the war one way or another.

“They are the Divine Order’s Knights! They were the ones that founded the Order, right Nana?! It is them!”

“Do you wish for me to finish the story, little one, or do you wish for me to blow out the candle and put you to sleep?” the young woman asked with a smile touching her lips.

The child widened their eyes while shaking their head with passion.

“Please, no! Finish the story, Nana! I will keep my words, I swear.” The child tugged and pulled the young woman’s sleeve, begging with their eyes, their face, and their voice. The woman laughed, caressing the small one while speaking with warmth in her words.

“Then listen with care, little one.”

The knights’ audacity could be a reason for punishment. The kings could have their lives right at that moment, yet it was the ten knights’ bravery and determination that moved all the kings to their cores and souls. It is said that light poured down the windows as if the Divines Themselves were blessing the knights and with that sight, one by one, Raevich, Albaron, and Carnarbur abandoned the cruel everlasting war. The ten knights were not only praised but rewarded lands, with songs and tales being spread not only in the West but on the whole Tërnya. It was decided not long after that their comradeship and strength should not be ignored, for the realm needed them still. It was then that the great Divine Order of Orphys Knights was created, fortifying the bond between the kingdoms and bringing many other knights under their wing, making the oath to forever protect Tërnya and our mortal realm.

“Is that really true, Nana?! Not even one small lie?”

The child’s eye glimmered by the candlelight, the young woman’s reply being the very same as every other time the same tale was told.

“Not even a single one.”

The child’s smile grew brighter and was filled with glee, the candle’s flame trembling as the little one moved and jumped on the bed.

“Did they really meet in a secret room and plot against their kings?! How did they convince the others? Did they promise sweets and horses to whoever would aid them?”

The woman tried to control her laugh, holding the child still on the bed while attempting to give a disapproving look. “I was not there, little one. But this is how the story goes, so we can only guess and imagine. Now it is time for you to sle—”

“I shall be the next leader, the Order’s greatest champion! I will convince all knights to aid me and create the best world our kingdom ever saw!”

The lady smiled and laughed, defeated by the child’s claim. Inside, her heart felt warm and filled with butterflies and joy as she watched the child’s dreams flourishing and growing.

“I wish I could make your wishes come true, little one, yet our world demands struggles and hardships. Inside the Divine Order there is a group of ten knights—”

“The ten Orphys Knights!”

“—that are not easily chosen by mundane disputes and tournaments. The leader is one of those knights, the most challenging to pursue.”

The child at last sat on the bed, bulging eyes and a mouth open in disbelief.

“What do you mean? Nana said so herself that to become a knight in the Order one just needs to win the Great Tournament! You lied to me!”

“Yes, I did say so, and I did not lie,” the young woman said with haste, the child already pouting with their lips and tears burning in their eyes. “However, the Orphys Knights are special. Nine are chosen by the leader and all Knights must belong to one of the three great West kingdoms. The trial to become the leader comes only every ten years and once chosen, there is nothing else to be done but wait ten more. This is their only way,” the lady explained while wiping the child’s tears away, kissing their cheeks and nose with words spoken in a calm and soothing voice.

“But—wah, that’s not fair! Why would the Orphys Knights need to belong to one of the three big kingdoms?! There are so many others, with villages and small homes. They cannot do that! Nana, would I be able to change that? It is not fair!”

The young woman sighed, once again laying the child into bed, pulling the covers, and adjusting the pillows. “Now, now, the sun is asleep and so should you be. Do you wish to stay awake during Gallows?”

The child’s lips trembled, tightening as they shook their head in one slow motion.

“I thought so. Tomorrow, I shall tell you more tales and hear all your words and doubts—if you behave and go to sleep when I say so. What do you say, little one? Can I trust you with this task?”

The woman tickled the child until a smile appeared on their face, the fear and sadness leaving their eyes with a weak giggle. “I promise, Nana! I will do so.”

“Then I shall bid my farewell for this Fall.” The young woman kissed the child before blowing out the candle and turning her head one last time before closing the door. The small child waved their hand and she waved back, whispering a last prayer inside her heart as she held her medallion close to her heart.

May the Divines bless your dreams, my dear child.

A Dark Eye from the Gallows

Fall of Night - East Raevich

The hooded man stepped into the tavern with mud on his boots and blood in his mouth—one he could hide well.

Water ran down his clothes and hair followed by the foul smell of wet rats and dogs that came from the streets behind him. Maybe it came from him as well, it was not easy to tell. The scarce warmth provided by all those bodies and fire was quite welcome, although his presence was ignored for the most part as if he was nothing but a sly rat hiding from the rain. It was pouring like Ancient times. The Divines must have been pissed with something that Fall for that rain was enough to punish all simple mortals from Raevich for their foolish mistakes. Which, if he could be honest, was a stupid thing to do. One would think that after the third attempt the Divines would learn that, be it pouring or raining daggers, humans were humans. Rotten to their core.

The hooded man walked around until he found an empty table, picking off the pieces of bread on the chair—he was a bit hungry after work. They were kind of stale, but he would forgive them for that.

“Ancient rains are one of the worst omens you could see these days—it’s what my mama used to say to me.” The bald man at the table in front of him spoke with such caution, one could swear he was afraid to wake the dead. Someone had to tell the poor soul it was not Gallows yet.

As the hooded man glanced over that table, he saw five men: Fat, Bald, Somber, Drunk, and Ugly. Well, they were all ugly but there was one that really caught the eyes.

“Every time with those foolish superstitions! One should know when to stop talking and start drinking, so just go on with it, you stinky fool!” said Ugly. The others laughed, Drunk laughing way too hard with his red cheeks and teary eyes.

The hooded man waited a little more and when he realized he would not get any alcohol so soon he snatched one from another table. The cup was almost full.

“Perhaps his sweet mama was right.” The laughs from the others diminished as Somber spoke, a shadow passing through his eyes while he looked at the other four as if they were the dead Bald was afraid to wake. “I heard the news. Dark Eye left another body at the river, another gold-plated.”

“Dark Eye?!” Drunk almost choked on his own drool, punching Somber in the shoulder. “You don’t actually believe this fiend exists, do you, mate?”

“Now, we have his mama and his news to think about while we drink!” They all laughed, Fat choking on a piece of meat.

The hooded man felt his pride being tainted. That drink was bad enough to taste even more to swallow. How could they sell that thing with a straight face? He had been so happy when he saw the cup was almost full, realizing how naive he had been. Oh, the pain one must face in East Raevich’s taverns.

“You all can laugh while you can, drink and eat while you can.” Their laughs still echoed at their table but that did not steal the shadows from Somber’s eyes. “I caught a glimpse of this fella and I swear, it was Death that looked back. Dark Eye is as real as I am, a demon with flesh and bones.” The laughs got weaker but were not gone.

“Now our man talks about demons.”

“Maybe his mama made him believe them,” said Ugly and Drunk, yet the hooded man could almost smell the fear that grew between them.

That only motivated their good friend Somber, as all joyfulness and drunkenness from other customers faded into another room, another world. “Seen it with my two good eyes—a scene I will not soon forget. A man covered by shadows with evil in his eyes, killing three armed men with his bare hands. If that is not the work of a demon, then I don’t know what a demon would be.” Somber looked at his own palms, a shiver passing through his shoulders and body. “This is a night with bad omens, so watch your backs for Dark Eye may tire of hunting only gold-plated. We could be next.”

The hooded man was quite offended to be called a demon with such ease, even though not even he was sure the things existed.

He had killed them with a dagger after all.

“Go tell those stories to your lady, keep her scared enough to warm you in bed.” And with Fat’s words the laughs and choking returned, tears falling from their eyes.

Not that any of them had any lady to warm them on that cold night, much less do anything else. Men who had nice wives and nice kids and were not that fond of Death would not walk into such a place, in a weather like that. Only sad men, the worst kind of scum, and the trashy bastards would be found in taverns like that, after all who else would be able to drink and eat their nasty foods? They had spit roasting rats, for Divines’ sake. And something told him they were not the clean ones.

And oh dear, was that an eye inside his cup?

“Go on, keep thinking I am a liar—”

“A shitty snotch, that’s what you—”

“Dark Eye is now the greatest and most vile killer in this cursed kingdom. If your laughs and insults brush past him, you may all consider yourselves dead to never again share any warmth with anyone.”

Bless the Divines, it was just a meatball. Maybe that was the reason it tasted so bad?

“Now, why won’t you stop babbling before you lose your teeth? Unless you want to share the warmth of my fingers,” said Ugly, his eyes lowering with a “threat” filling his words. Ugly really thought he was scary, huh?

And definitely not. The hooded man had taken another cup, no meatballs this time, from the next table and the taste was the same. Maybe that was why the Divines were punishing them.

Shitty drinks.

“I think you could use something to warm your brain—it must be dead cold in there.” Then there was some fist here and there, some moans, chairs falling, drinks spilling, and just like that everything was back to normal. It was good to enjoy some late-night amusement after a rough workday.

The chair in front of the hooded man suddenly moved, and a boy sat right by his side. The hooded man did not look up to see who it was, playing with the drink in his hands. His eyes followed the scroll that was passed right beside his hand.

“A present so soon? Have I been such a good boy to deserve such a noble gift, I wonder?”

The newcomer did not smile back nor did he reply, his dark skin attracting enough attention that made him cover his face after a few seconds. Yet the hooded man could only see impatience and annoyance in the newcomer’s eyes.

Which was quite rude.

“You know all too well how noble this gift is. I am always the one who has to carry the damned thing to you, every time,” the newcomer whispered with harsh words, some anger following them in his voice.

“Well, I know that.” The hooded man sighed, staring at the ceiling with bored eyes. “You still cannot take a joke whenever you are, Lee. Still too worried for your own good.”

“Since worry is a lack in you, I guess I feel obliged to compensate for us both.” The seriousness filling the boy’s golden eyes almost made him laugh.

“Am I not alive, still? If anything will kill me, it will be this thing over here,” the man said, while he pointed toward his drink, finishing the damn thing while he had the guts. A shiver went down his spine, a joyful smile touching his lips. “Drink it yourself! See how bad it tastes, you won’t regret it.”

Lee did not blink or give a reply, his face frozen on a blend of anguish and a terrible stomachache. Maybe he had already drunk it?

“Relax, for the sake of all Divines! I’m only joking, I care enough for you—”

“Master!” Lee shouted while slamming both hands on the table. That was loud enough to attract a few good looks, making the hooded man roll his eyes as he stood up and grabbed the scroll, putting it inside his leather pouch.

“You are such a bore sometimes.” The man turned around, taking another cup from the next table, finishing the thing in one go. It tasted horrible, but it was alcohol all right. His throat was burning. “We are done here, Lee. Great to see you!”

As he moved toward the door, the hooded man felt a hand grab his shoulder, a stranger’s voice reaching his ears.

“You are not done with me, you piece of shite!”

Oh wait, that was Ugly. And may it be possible or not, Ugly was even uglier with a pissed face. How could the Divines allow such a face to be born into that world? It was as if someone had molded eyes, mouth, nose, and cheeks and mashed everything together after putting in some broken bones.

“Have I ever started something with you?” the hooded man asked with a sweetened voice and pleading eyes.

“Your sorry ass did! I paid for that drink, you fucking maggot!” Ugly was a big man. He could even be an ugly man who thought he was scary. But before that, he was an unlucky man.

“My condolences, good sir. To know you, willingly, chose by your own free will to pay for such a poor and hideous drink does bring tears to my eyes. That is why I felt obliged to free you from such a burden and suffering. You can welcome me later for carrying such a kind heart in me.” He then looked past Ugly, toward his fellow men, giving them a pitiful smile. “If you wish, I can end your suffering as well.”

All four men stood up, most laughter and drunk noises gone. That alone made the hooded man so much happier. He could feel his heart race, the blood pumping in his veins spreading a euphoric feeling that would fulfill his soul for the next five minutes: sweet happiness and bloodlust.

“Stop this instant, brother!” Another hand grabbed him by the other arm.

His gaze followed that voice as the blood froze inside him. That hand belonged to Lee.

Look at that, a soon-to-be dead man.

“I already told you to not leave our home when Dad is away. May Säh and the Divines help you, brother, have you got no sense at all?!” Lee pulled the hooded man away from Ugly and his companions, bowing to the five men.

He could see Lee’s sweat, the trembling of his lips. “I sincerely apologize to you, gentlemen. My brother is ill-minded and tends to lose his good senses whenever our father is away. Forgive his lack of decency.”

Lee should realize how close he was to taste death by the finest hands, at that point. Lee just had to hold him still for some more.

“Your retard brother stole my drink, half-breed! You think your damned apology will do shite for me?! You are not in the East, bastard!” Ugly said, while sinking his finger on Lee’s chest.

The hooded man said nothing as he watched Ugly’s fat finger touch Lee, letting the dagger slide to his hand while the demon whispered in his ears. Maybe there could be a finger inside a cup soon.

“I believe this will compensate for your trouble.” Lee threw a small pouch filled with silver coins—his payment for that night’s work—whilehurrying to the exit. “Excuse us.”

The next seconds were a complete madness, with the five men punching and colliding against each other to grab the blooded money, but soon all the shouts and curses were muted by the heavy sound of the rain as they stepped outside.

Lee took him to the middle of the street, no soul to be seen. None would be insane enough to be walking with Gallows approaching, during that rain. And that was all that Lee managed to do.

Take him to the middle of the street.

“Please do not kill me, master.” Lee’s whisper was almost lost as his face paled while his frightened eyes said enough. The hooded man had his dagger on Lee’s neck, his mouth twisted in a smile.

“Now, why wouldn’t I do that? Apparently, I am ill-minded so I guess I want to go for a killing spree.” The rain kept washing away the blood that ran down Lee’s skin making the red trail disappear completely. He could almost feel Lee’s heart through the dagger, the blade pulsing. “Who said you had the right to touch me?”

The dagger went a little bit deeper. Lee drew a deep and shaken breath before opening his mouth. “Master, please forgive me. I needed to help.”

“I had no need for help,” the man answered in a cold, dead tone. He wondered if he would be able to feel his heart as well, with that cold blade.

“Help the others, master.” Even as blood ran from his body, his golden eyes pleading and begging him, there was still kindness in Lee’s eyes. Almost a sense of blind loyalty. Trust.

The hooded man lowered his dagger, feeling tired all of a sudden. Maybe that drink would be the death of him after all. Lee’s shoulder relaxed, his hand going to his neck and flinching as he touched the small cut.

“Next time you feel the urge to help someone I will break your neck and feed you to the rats. Keep that in mind.” The man touched Lee’s shoulder, whispering close to his ear so the boy could hear every word. Lee nodded without ever looking away, but there was fear in his eyes. Concern.

Dark Eye felt sick.

“Please hear my words, master. Please…” As the man didn’t answer, the boy continued to speak even louder to be heard in the rain, “You know I truly care about you! I worry for you.” When he began to walk away, Lee followed him like a pitiful dog.

Really, such a tiring night.

“Please, don’t accept this contract, master! It’s like no other, it will cost your life this time! You have plenty already, you can live by yourself in a good home, be free from this life. Just don’t do it, master. Please. You will put your life at ris—”

“My life is always at risk, Lee!” the man shouted, turning to face the young boy once more, opening his arms to welcome the Gallows and the cursed rain. “If I shall perish by accepting this contract, then so be it. Maybe then my life will be useful for someone.” His heart pounded in his chest, or maybe it was a demon knocking to let him in. “If you plan to convince me with those arguments, give up. You are wasting both our time.”

Before he could leave, Lee grabbed his shoulder. There was no malice, no anger or hate as he was used to. Only kindness. Only a friendly gesture, followed by sad and hurtful eyes from a pitiful, loyal dog.

Which was so much worse.

“I beg you, master, in Säh’s name and light, refuse this contract. Live your own life. I beg you not as your servant; as a friend.” For the first time that night, the hooded man took off his hood. The rain fell on his head as if it thought it could clean him.

“My life is worth nothing for me to risk it. I thank you for your words, but you should know better after so long—I have no friends.”

Dark Eye did not stay to see Lee’s face. He did not stay to say his goodbyes. He put his hood on once again and walked away. Had he any sorrow or regrets left, he let the rain try to wash them away, together with all his worries. Gallows was there to embrace him as it always had, darkness welcoming him like his oldest lover as he felt the demon knock faster and faster. There was no warmth. All he could see at every window, every puddle, every drop of rain, was his eyes. An abyss so dark it could swallow him whole and drag him to the deepest despair.

That, the rain could never wash away.

But he did wait.

He prayed.

Ten Stars in Blackened Skies

Haze of Dawn - The Divine Order of Orphys Knights, Haste Mountains

That room had always been too cold for Sean’s taste, yet that day was even colder. The tapestries that hung from the walls looked dull after so many years, and the painting of the Orphys constellation that stared down at him made it feel like they were all in a poor, empty church. After all, there was only one big table in the middle of the room with a few shelves and chandeliers spread out for “decorative” purposes. Also, why keep all twenty chairs when there were only ten of them? Sure, the grand marble table was beautiful to look at, even its heavy chairs, however all it did to that Polaris Chamber was make it seem shallower with its tall pillars and stone floor.

For the past year, the nine Knights had felt the change of seasons all the same, except for one single thing. They all knew the Last Bonfire would bring not only autumn to their doors but also a pristine new leader for the Order. A leader that could choose to keep them as Orphys Knights or change their ranks completely, back to being unit commanders, squad captains or even lower, like Ruby knights. Since he was a great listener, Sean knew they all felt that weight. The man knew their fears, their hopes, their passions—and their lies.

It was a change that was fated to happen, one that most Knights were not quite prepared to face. Among those Knights, Clarice was the one showing her frustration with the most…passion.

“Is this what will become of us, then? Nothing but fallen Knights inside isolated mountains, being no more than a source for mockery and cruel words?!”

“Clarice, please, we all knew this day would come—”

“I am no stupid woman, Rowan! This has nothing to do with our position as Knights!” The petite woman shoved the Red Knight’s hands, circulating the room with heavy steps. Their colleagues fell in silence as they watched, unsure of what to say to her. Being from Raevich, even without one drop of noble blood, her eyes as dark as her hair, she managed to make almost every Knight flinch and avert their gaze. “The Order has become nothing but a joke! We are nothing but a joke, after doing our best for those useless idiots for ten bloody years! By Säh’s brightest light, we sacrificed everything for them!” Clarice slammed her hand on the pillar beside her, her voice failing while her words burned more by the second.

“There is nothing to be done after we lost the Ancients’ aid—” the Red Knight started to speak, passing his fingers through his long red hair when Clarice cut his words before he could even blink.

“How can you even think that, Rowan?!” She turned around to face the fellow Knight once again, rage flaring from her eyes.

Sean covered his mouth as if in thought, hiding the smile that he could not control. That woman had always been far too emotional for her own good after all.

“To say that those monsters were anything but demonic spawns and that we should weep about the fact that we finally got our freedom? Preposterous!” Clarice’s dark braids fell from her shoulders, moving and raging alongside her as she finally returned to her seat.

“Clarice, the Ancients were the ones that gave the Divine Order their power and respect back. You can’t possibly have forgotten such a fact?” At least someone else joined the discussion, one of the Qirian twins, trying to reason with her as all others watched from their seats.

Sean touched Säh’s pendant on his chest, glancing toward the closed doors. He should be here by now—this is getting tiring.

“A fake glory followed by a war we cannot even prove because no one saw it happening. The Ancients aided us to fight demons?!” Clarice laughed as she looked at Rowan and the others as if they were all poor ill-minded souls close to their damnation. “Those are all lies,Ritta. We assumed our posts after this “war” and never got a glimpse of those things and all that we conquered these past years we conquered on our own, without any help from those beasts. Every single Knight who was once master of them is either dead or gone without a trace. What does that tell you?” She rested her back on the chair, showing a smile filled with nothing but irony and disgust. “That those Ancients are evil, vile creatures we should not even consider crossing paths with, and that one thing done right by our ancestors was making sure every single one of those creatures was exterminated.”

Finally, the doors opened, stealing the attention from all of them. Sean almost clapped after waiting so long, tired from listening to the same speech from Clarice they had heard throughout the year since the Great Tournament had begun. As soon as the Knights recognized the man that walked into the room, they all stood from their chairs, the space filling with nothing but silence. Alexander had held the title of leader for one whole decade and it showed, not only on his hair but on his face. The fine lines and wrinkles, the gray tainting his short hair—even if the man chose to wear his fancy, youthful clothes for their last supper as Knights, like the rest of them—he could not cheat his own age. He was way past his prime.

“Why the somber faces?” Alexander asked with a smile, the words spoken calmly and serenely. “An entire week of preparation for one last celebration before the final duel and I find all of you here debating history?” The man glanced toward Clarice, furrowing his brows. “I thought we were all over this, Clarice. It is pointless to try to change the past when not even the future is set in stone.”

The woman clenched her jaw, holding the same pendant Sean carried on his chest with a clenched fist. “I cannot see how changing leaders and the Knights will do our Order any favors when its walls are already crumbling from the inside. We are only entertaining and useful to them when there are duels and tournaments to watch, but no one supports us anymore, Alex.”

The man walked toward her, giving the woman a hug. Clarice’s body was stiff as a block of ice and she did not reciprocate at first. “I know…I know.”

That was all Alexander said but somehow it was all she needed to hear, biting her lips as if to keep the tears at bay. After a moment, Alexander took a few steps back, staring at them all while sharing a sad smile.

“I can see you are all worried about the Order. I shall not lie to any of you—the Divine Order is not in a pleasant situation. Our funds are low and this year we had fewer than eleven new recruits.” Alex walked closer to Rowan, grabbing his shoulder for a few seconds before continuing, “However, we cannot lose hope. In the end, that is why the Divine Order exists. To provide hope when there is nothing but despair left.”

No more words were spoken until Rowan himself took a deep breath and smiled, looking at their colleagues and friends. “As Alex said, we cannot let one week of preparation go to waste. Let us go to the Grand Hall and eat and drink until the sun is down and have a great night’s rest!”

That was hardly enough to motivate them but their gazes lowered as one by one the Knights left the room. Sean waited a little longer, until Clarice passed through the door and their distance grew, to speak his words to his leader.

“I was quite disappointed by your final speech, Alex. I thought it would be more emotional.”

Alexander continued to walk without sparing a glance to Sean. “I believe it was enough.”

“Was it though?”

“Are you implying som—”

Sean smiled, giving a shrug. “I am just saying that perhaps more could have been done. That is all.”

Nothing more was spoken between them, however, deep down both of them knew.

Tomorrow would be a grand day.

Ties Shackled by Blood

Wake of Day - Reliquary Room, Haste Mountains

Kayden stared through the window without being able to feel the wind brushing against his skin. His heart was restless, yet at the same time it was as if there was a wall of mist surrounding it as Kayden gazed into the distance, watching the forest below him awake with the sun. Behind him there were whispers, sounds giving him words he did not wish to understand, for that was a day that demanded more than he could possibly provide.

How long had it been?

He hoped the child inside him was smiling, glad that day had finally come, yet that was all that could be done for that child. Hope. Wish.

Kayden was waiting for the call inside the Order’s Reliquary Room, waiting for the moment that would forever change his life and the things he was fighting for. Apart from the book-filled shelves that covered most walls and some glass cases that displayed ancient artifacts and scrolls, what held his attention was one thing. The beautiful mosaic that showed the three great kingdoms’ crowns like a stone gaze, weighing on him every time he glanced toward it. Blue jewels for Carnarbur, green and gold for Raevich, and deep purple and silver stones for Albaron.

He had battled and fought with participants and champions from all these kingdoms, completing task after task, the entire past year. Kayden was finally standing between the grand finalists, yet he was unsure how to feel. Proud? Sad? Anxious? Would any of those feelings matter, in the end? His hand went for the moon medallion on his chest, feeling once again the metal against his skin. The mist around his heart got thicker, spreading through his body as if it was searching for something inside him. Something that could, perhaps, make that cloud go away.

The past year, he had faced so many creatures, from small boars and great bears to trolls and Skürs. Even at that moment, Kayden could not recall the last trial without shivering, the one that saw the most losses by far.

Bring the remains of an Ancient creature.

There were places known as Primal Tombs, where with a bit of luck and some backbone one could stumble upon some “exotic” bones and carcasses. Yet those places carried enough perils to send a whole army back to where they came from. Death’s presence was so dense and thick it was hard to walk on those paths without noticing Its scent. Those were sterile, dead lands, forsaken by the Divines, and all things that the Divines did not touch were fated to perish in the most horrible ways. Kayden had been fortunate, blessed one could say. Blessed to watch other competitors take their last breaths, hearing their screams fade like a forgotten promise that got carried away by the wind. Blessed to come back alive, with the Ancient’s remains on his back.

Blessed to have a chance to become Order’s next leader.

“It was you, I see it now.”

Kayden stopped in his thoughts, the mist becoming a silent wave that began to drag him deep beneath its waters. He could not breathe—he could not think. There was an invisible knife stabbing his guts as he began to drown simply by staring at those eyes.

“Father.” Kayden’s whisper got lost, a word that not even he could hear.

Felix Faeryl stood at the entrance, the light covering his eyes and nothing more. His dark hair hung loose just above the shoulders, and his beard was somehow longer than Kayden remembered, the mustache thicker. However, one could see in the man’s eyes the same feeling he always showed his heir every time he laid his gaze upon Kayden. Contempt.

His father came close, his trembling hands reaching out for him while his words were filled with thorns and poison.

“Do you have any idea of what you’ve done? Of the actual consequences of your imbecile acts?” The older man spoke with a low voice, yet his words burned enough to restrict all movement and thought Kayden could ever make. Kayden tried to take a deep breath, however he almost choked as his father approached, standing so close to him that Kayden could sense the heat, the rage coming out of him. “I thought that your distance and avoidance of the Tournament’s tasks were the result of my words getting through to you, at last. Now I see I’ve been foolish. Were you not my own blood and kin I would have you arrested.”

“Father, I broke no rules nor have I been unjust in this Tournament,” Kayden found his voice again, yet it was shaken, weak. There was no confidence, no authority, nothing that he could stand on apart from fear. “I will not answer to your reasonings.”

“You will answer to me. If you once believed your position in the kingdom makes you exempt of punishment, you shall rethink your childish plans.”

Kayden clenched his fists, taking a step away from his father while tears burned his eyes due to the man’s anger. “I place my beliefs neither in my position nor yours! I trust only myself and in what I can do as a person, as you taught me so diligently. If you will excuse me, I have a duel to prepare for and no visitants shall bother the participants before their tasks.”

There was a great silence as his father looked down on him, piercing his gaze as if the man hoped it would scar Kayden’s flesh. Then the older man turned around with the same grace he had presented himself before, without looking Kayden in the eye.

“I cannot stop this Tournament as it is beyond my power to do so. But I will show you what it takes to defy me. If you think you can become a high-ranking knight or even their leader, reality will teach you where you should stand.”

The door closed with a loud noise and to Kayden it felt as if the water surrounding him fell helplessly on the floor, finally allowing him to breathe. He rested his arms on one of the displays’ lids to prevent himself from falling on his knees while his sight returned to normal, the darkness fading. Kayden kept taking deep breaths until he managed to regain control, until the mist returned inside him.

Why do I still let him affect me so?

Kayden closed his hand on his medallion, the metal hot against his fingers, trying not to let his thoughts wander toward his father and how he knew Kayden would be there. Kayden let out a shaken breath, his heart still once again.

Should he feel proud? Sad?

Desperate?

The knock on the door came before he reached an answer, one of the Tournament guides at the door.

“Sir Keith, it is time.”

Kayden gripped the medallion once more before the words left his mouth.

“Indeed, it is.”

A Sight Too Bright to See

Wake of Day - Sun Arena, Haste Mountains

After dreaming and imagining it so many times, the arena was not at all what Kayden expected. It was no small place, the circle in which the participants would fight being quite wide and spacious, but Kayden knew it was not the Order’s biggest space. There were nine rows of benches that followed the circled arena on an elevated space, with two passages from which the visitors could enter. However, one of them was solely for royalty and the ten Orphys Knights.

There were nobles and their prestigious ones spread throughout the benches, some Houses that Kayden could spot with ease like the Argyris and Bertram from Raevich, as well as the Allison and a few more from Albaron. For a moment Kayden thought he would never find him amid that crowd, yet how could he not? The knight could feel his father’s presence like knives on his back, as whispers followed the man’s gaze while Kayden fought to avoid it.

The other three competitors were scattered at the other extremities. Two of them belonged to Carnarbur—twins—with light brown hair and light eyes with tanned skins, while the other had Raevich’s golden-and-green emblem shining on his chest armor, its pauldrons molded after a lion’s face. His hair was a very light blond—a distinctive trait of Raevich’s noble Houses and royalty, which explained how the man had gotten himself such expensive armor. Carnarbur’s knights wore a simple gambeson armor that with one glance Kayden could tell it was not of great quality, making the status between Raevich’s noble set and theirs as clear as the Wake. The only thing from Kayden’s armor that was noticeable enough to be of a greater quality was his hooded cloak that hid his face alongside the mask that covered all but his eyes. Apart from that, his dark leather armor set was dull to the eyes, even though Kayden had spent a good amount of coins to put some pads on his shoulders, elbows, and knees. As the Great Tournament’s rules dictated: all contestants must provide their own gear and equipment.

All four competitors had brought swords for the duel, as previously arranged, but only Kayden had chosen a rapier. Raevich’s knight had a two-handed sword while Carnarbur’s had brought simple longswords. People looked at Kayden’s rapier with smirks and chuckles, glancing over to Raevich’s two-handed sword as if to show how pointless their combat would be. If there was one thing that Kayden was proud of, it was his footwork and defense. After years training his rapier’s skill, it would be ungraceful if he felt otherwise.

Kayden could not say he remembered anything exceptional from Carnarbur’s knights, however Raevich’s champion would be a problem. It was not his size—taller than the benches’ elevation—that got Kayden apprehensive but his physique. Kayden had never seen him tired or exhausted after strength tests; while Raevich’s had been the first participant to climb the White Mountains and get the flag during the third task, Kayden had placed sixth. He was already used to fighting while wearing a mask, but that alone was a hindrance. Rapiers were perfect for duels due to their range, weight, and flexibility. However, to fight someone who possessed far more endurance without being able to exchange full blows would be a challenge. That was no fencing duel—it was a succinct, controlled war.

“I welcome you all to our blessed home! May the Divines shine Their wisdom upon us in this Wake as the next leader for our Divine Order of Orphys Knights is born.”

The man that spoke in the middle of the circle was not Alexander. The current leader watched everything along with his fellow Knights, in front of the royals. The spokesman was a jolly man with reddish cheeks, his long hair braided on his back like Narturers, a distinguished group who lived on Centrion Island in Carnarbur. It was odd to see a Narturer as an Order’s knight since Narturers were pacifists at heart and soul.

“The Great Tournament has finally come to its grand end after four seasons. It started with the first harvest and after a year of memorizing complete collections of treasured scrolls, hunting Ancient remains, and fighting deadly creatures, four champions shall take their last stand to reach their prized goal. Today, the Great Tournament to choose the Order’s next leader comes to a conclusion!”

“Wasn’t this the small one that brought one of those creatures’ bones on the last trial?” Kayden could hear the voices above him overlapping with the Narturer’s words, certain he would find fingers pointing his way if he turned around.

“I heard he got hold of an entire skull!”

“I do wonder how he managed to find out. Certainly he did not kill it, bless Säh.”

“Only way he got one is with a load of coins stuffed up his arse, that’s how.” It did trouble him so to hear such scorn in the woman’s words, yet the lack of courtesy on the man’s side removed all respect Kayden could ever feel toward them. Säh followers with such level of speech meant they were only present due to luck and favors.

“We congratulate our final four competitors!” Kayden’s attention went back to the man in the middle of the arena, praying to keep his hands dry and steady. “Sir Corey and Sir Daniel from Carnarbur. Sir Thurstan from Raevich. Sir Keith from Albaron.”

As each participant was named, cheers and howling could be heard, residents of all kingdoms mixed and spread through the benches. Both knights from Carnarbur seemed confident enough, looking at each other as if they were making a silent vow. As for Thurstan, little could be said from his expression alone, his stance relaxed while the grip on his sword remained strong. But when the man met his eyes Kayden felt a chill, whispers being carried by the wind as if they belonged to the dead, making his insides quiver while a cold spread through his body. “…and wish to them all the luck they can carry! May the last trial begin!”

People cheered as the Narturer walked away, going to his reserved spot at the entrance of the arena. Seconds passed, yet no participant took even a small step, abiding by the ninth rule of the Great Tournament:the tasks commence by the ringing of the bell. Kayden tried to get a better hold on the rapier’s handle, his skin damp as he tried to control his breathing.

Something was not right.

Kayden could feel the lightness in his head, the bitter taste spreading inside his mouth. His gaze started to run in all directions, trying to focus on whatever it was that had made him feel that way. Not the Narturer, not his father, not even someone in the audience. He prayed to be wrong, prayed to Them it would not happen. Then he felt it. A light so hot and fierce burning inside his head as if it wanted to melt his entire brain while images and voices overlapped each other, fighting to be noticed while Kayden felt himself being sucked inside a dark hole in the cold ground while losing his senses.

He could feel it crawling on the walls and dragging on the ground, such a menacing and hideous future that its strength was like poison on his skin. By the time Kayden finally got control over his body once more, being able to discern what he had seen, the signal had already been given. A loud bell echoed through the arena while Kayden’s feet stuck as if they had created roots that sank into the ground.

Before he could blink his horror away, Thurstan had closed the distance between him and one of Carnarbur’s knights, the smaller one called Corey. The young man did not have the time to react as Raevich’s knight thrust the heavy sword into his stomach, holding young Corey almost as if he was pulling him for a hug. Blood spilled from Corey’s mouth, eyes frozen. Thurstan lifted the body while holding the sword a few centimeters above the ground before tossing the young knight aside, the smell of death spreading like heated iron. Silence befell the people like a thick veil, gasps and murmurs stuck in people’s throats. Kayden could hear his own heart, his mind fighting to believe what was unfolding in front of him. Why? It was the question that echoed inside him.

The other Carnarbur knight, Daniel, was the first to break free from the shock. His scream was one filled with loss and grief, painful enough to tear Kayden’s own soul apart. Tears ran down his face as the knight charged against Thurstan, giving clean hits against his enemy’s sword time after time, the blades colliding against each other in an aggressive song. However, no matter how Kayden looked, it was as if Daniel was hitting a stone wall that moved along with him. Thurstan’s sword was heavier and, although he had a defensive stance, one could notice how at ease Raevich’s champion was blocking every attack without showing a single drop of sweat.

Kayden tried to move his body, yet it was as if his limbs held no life, his gaze following the knights against his will. It was like stones were being poured into his heart, the fate shown to him looming over his head, drying his tears before they could even fall. Why? Why are they needed in the Divines’ plan?

Thurstan ducked and deflected Daniel’s every move, the swords’ clash echoing inside Kayden’s ears like Death’s knell. There was nothing in the duel’s rules that forbade killing or inflicting severe injuries on other participants, however they all knew this task was supposed to be nothing but a simple spar to finally choose the winner.

Then why? Kayden tried to glance at his father, haunted by the whispers that spoke back. It couldn’t be, not that, not something like that.

It was a sudden cry that made Kayden bite his lips, his muscles aching as he fought Them to no avail. Thurstan’s movements changed, his pace getting faster and faster, his blows getting stronger and harsher, making Daniel recede at every strike. Daniel’s hand began to move alongside his lips, Kayden recognizing the arcane movement though the knight didn’t even get to finish. Choosing to divide his attention to manipulate energy cost him dearly, a slight drop in speed was all that Thurstan needed. The man faked from the right, hitting Daniel’s face from the left in one violent movement with his head. Blood gushed

from Daniel’s nose and while the knight still recovered his senses, Thurstan swung his sword with all his might.

The sturdy blade cut the knight’s head off in one blow, his body standing still for a few moments, arms hanging loose at its side as it dropped the longsword. And then, just like that, it fell like a doll. The head flew, rolling nonstop until it hit the circle’s wall at Kayden’s feet. He could not tell if some people had screamed, fell sick, or cried. All he could hear was his own heart breaking while Daniel’s eyes stared back at him. Face wet with tears and for only a second his mouth twitched, Death’s kiss coming far too early for both knights. Why?

Kayden clenched his fists, his blood boiling, his veins pulsing as he took his stance. The Divines’ power over his body was gone, and Thurstan still held his two-handed sword in a relaxed position on the other side of the arena. Kayden waited until the man was right in the center of the circle, closing their distance in seconds. Thurstan was looking down on him and for that the man would pay dearly.

Kayden dodged the first impact by moving to the side, and while Thurstan desired to close the distance between them, he had no rush. He overshadowed Kayden by height, his muscles were bigger, and his blows more powerful. But Kayden made sure Thurstan’s blade would never even grasp him. A shallow cut was made on Raevich’s champion’s arm since only his chest and shoulders were covered by the plate armor, however Thurstan paid no mind as he aimed for Kayden’s legs. The only sound that could be heard was Thurstan’s swords cutting through air and the sound of their steps even when his movements changed with the blows getting faster and stronger, the same tactic Thurstan had used with Daniel. To his opponent’s misfortune, Kayden was not Daniel. But he shared his grief.

The bigger man could not seem to follow his footwork, striking whenever he got the chance but meeting nothing but air. Kayden could not pierce Thurstan’s chest armor, however every spot his armor did not cover was a clean hit. Raevich’s champion was bleeding slowly from small cuts over his arms and legs, but still paying them no mind. On Thurstan’s following blow, Kayden tangled the man’s sword in his cloak and twisted the weapon in his opponent’s hand, throwing the blade meters away the moment Thurstan let go of the sword. Kayden felt the punch before he saw it coming, a hit in his ribs the moment Thurstan closed their distance.

Kayden bit his lip as pain shot through his body, using his rapier’s pommel to hit Thurstan on his chin before the man gave another blow. Kayden took a few steps back as Thurstan shook his head and wavered for a few seconds before reaching for one of the twins’ longswords that was not that far from him.

Thurstan charged with speed, ready to give a powerful strike that was aimed at Kayden’s waist. Two steps back, one to the side, and Kayden had his adversary’s sword stuck on the rapier’s pommel. He twisted Thurstan’s hand, making the man drop his weapon, kicking him in the chest to push him enough to take him off balance and create a little more distance. Kayden pushed the longsword with his feet and threw it behind him and that was when Thurstan made one single mistake. And it did cost him.

The man raced toward Kayden without a weapon, ready to knock him with his weight and shoulders. Yet Kayden was faster. He had sworn to himself he would not use the arcane arts, that he would only trust his Way. However the anger and contempt that grew in his heart were enough to make Kayden reach for his core, manipulating the air’s energy to increase the power and speed of his blade. The rapier sliced both ankles almost with a thirst of its own, cutting right through the tendons and that time it was Thurstan’s scream that echoed through the space as he fell on his knees. He used one hand for support, breath uneven, while the champion clenched his jaw. Kayden gave a full blow with his handle on Thurstan’s back, making Raevich’s champion gasp and fall. Kayden rolled the man with his feet so he could see his face.

It would be simple to sink the blade into his throat and watch Thurstan drown in his own blood. Raevich’s knight had only followed someone’s orders, Kayden knew that, but foremost Thurstan had been the one to accept them. Why? His foolish choice had taken the life of two bright young knights, and Kayden could not hide the disgust in his eyes. To kill such a thing would be simple, easy. Deep down, he knew others would not condemn Kayden for the act, most would even praise him. Yet he could not.

Kayden lowered the rapier, stepping aside. He walked over to Daniel’s head, picking it up with utmost care, taking it back to where it belonged. Kayden knelt, placing the head in its rightful place, closing the boy’s eyes before taking off his cloak to cover the body. Were it not for the shock and dirt on his face, Daniel almost looked asleep, no more need to stare at death any longer. Kayden stood up, locking glares with the spokesman while he waited still on the spot.