Shattered Exile

THREE Calling

THREE

Calling

He sat alone, quietly, resting against the trunk of an old fallen tree, listening keenly to the occasional sounds of wildlife foraging through the bare woodland. He enjoyed relaxing whilst listening to the ambient sounds of the forest, unerringly identifying each one – the practice kept his skills sharp. Sometimes he would play the same game during those nights when he had trouble sleeping, whilst scouting the Narlakai borderlands alone. Often, on clear nights, he had difficulty sleeping; the soft glow of the Night’s Lights frequently distracted him, making it difficult to switch off. He recalled fondly the last time he was in the heart of the vale; Ragnar had tried his hardest to sneak up on him. The Captain’s eager attempt was ultimately futile, nonetheless he appreciated Ragnar’s effort, which had brought a smile to his face – he enjoyed the Captain’s gruff companionship, and the fruitless repeated attempts to outsmart him. He wondered – in light of his recent string of failures – whether the Captain would now fare any better. Knowing that Kirika’s sister had used him like a puppet to bait The Blades, and that her telepathic accomplice had twice surpassed his own ability, laying him low in the process, had rocked his confidence. It had been summer when Ragnar last tried to spook him, with the vale in full colour. Now autumn had eroded most of that colour, and the encroaching winter promised to wash away the rest with its cold icy rain, dark skies and howling wind. One could always find shelter, even in the borderlands, and so he tolerated the rain, but the wind habitually riled him – there was no escaping its touch.

Krisis lay next to him, content to while away the remainder of the morning. Occasionally the dire wolf’s ears would twitch – seemingly of their own accord – as they too detected the ambient sounds of the woodland. He enjoyed having his fleet-footed companion at his side, and the eager dire wolf was keen to serve its pack leader. In the short time they had spent together in the borderlands, Krisis had proven his worth repeatedly. Perhaps it was time to introduce Krisis to his scouts, to induct the loyal dire wolf formally into their ranks, he mused. His thoughts on the matter were cut short, however, by the sound of someone close by, stalking through the woodland. Krisis’ ears twitched repeatedly; the black-furred dire wolf promptly stood up and began to snarl, directing his muzzle towards the west. He too had heard the faint sounds, and had quickly risen to his feet, ready to face the potential threat headed towards them. The sound intensified, though only slightly, before the shape of a female Freylarkin emerged through the trees. Treading quietly through the forest was Kirika – instantly recognisable by her long purple waterfall-braided hair and pale skin. The young scrier carefully picked her way through the woodland, making very little sound.

‘I am impressed that you made it this far, before we detected you that is.’ he said loudly, clearly startling the Blade Valkyrie.

Kirika turned towards the sound of his voice, adjusting her heading accordingly. After a brief moment scanning the forest, she singled him out against the backdrop of the woodland, followed shortly by Krisis; his worn attire and the dire wolf’s black fur camouflaged well with their surroundings.

‘Lothnar, is that you?’

‘Who else are you expecting to find out here, Kirika?’

‘If that is truly you, Lothnar, explain to me now the recent events that have brought you and Nathaniel together.’ replied Kirika, tersely.

Kirika’s cryptic response was unexpected, so too was her posture – the Blade Valkyrie had adopted a defensive stance. Krisis also sensed that something was wrong; the loyal dire wolf stood firmly by his side and continued to snarl aggressively at the scrier.

‘Kirika, what is going on?’

‘Answer the question!’ demanded Kirika.

‘Fine...Aleska’s work, at Scrier’s Post – does that answer your question?’

Kirika exhaled deeply and began to look at ease; she seemed to visibly relax after hearing his response.

‘Lothnar, I am glad to have found you. I require your assistance.’ said Kirika intently, only now daring to approach them. ‘There is trouble in the vale, and both Alarielle and Rayna need your help.’

‘What is it Kirika? Tell me, what has happened?!’

‘Krashnar is back in the vale! He has already released a local fisherman by the name of Riknar, and has since infected Rayna with some sort of parasite.’

‘What?! Is she OK?’

‘I do not know – she seems to be experiencing a kind of paralysis. Nathaniel is with her, back at his tree.’

‘What about Alarielle?’

‘I cannot say. We are unable to communicate with either of them in their current state, though perhaps, with your ability, you can.’

‘Take us to them now, Kirika, and I will do what I can.’

‘Thank you, but alas, I cannot join you both. I must warn Marcus of the threat. Krashnar is stealing identities, in order to infiltrate the vale.’

‘You should have realised that Krisis here cannot be fooled so easily – neither can I.’

‘Of course. I was not thinking clearly. This situation has everyone on edge, myself included.’

‘Regardless, you have responsibilities, I understand. You need to report this to Marcus.’

‘Do either of you know the way to Nathaniel’s tree?’

‘Vaguely, but the forest dwellers will aid us.’

‘That is unlikely.’ replied Kirika. ‘I have ordered a curfew – the Freylarkai are going to ground.’

‘Makes sense.’ he replied. ‘No matter, I will have Krisis here follow your scent to Nathaniel’s tree. We shall accompany you back to the bridge, Kirika, after which we shall leave you to find Marcus, and apprise him of the situation.’

‘Very well.’ replied Kirika, with a look of concern.

‘Whatever this is, Kirika, we will find a way to beat it.’

‘I sincerely hope that you are right, Lothnar, and that you are able to expel whatever evil has infected The Guardian.’

His dry lips stung as they cracked in the wake of his ever-widening smile. He could still taste the tang of the light bringer’s sweat on his tongue, which he slowly slid across his bottom lip. The Guardian belonged to him now, and with Freylar’s mysterious benefactor removed from the board, Lileah’s chances of success were greatly improved.

‘Ha, The Guardian – how disappointing.’ he said, musing aloud.

Lileah, too, had become his unwitting puppet; it was a simple enough task to compel the impetuous Freylarkin to join him, thereby advancing his own agenda. The abnormally powerful telepath would provide a useful distraction whilst he sought to realise his own ambition. Although Lileah had made for an amusing pastime, ultimately the gaunt raven-black-haired Freylarkin meant nothing to him. Once she had served her purpose, Lileah would no longer be of any significance. Despite admittedly being in awe of her supremely impressive telepathic ability, in truth, he had little time for the disrespectful youth. He paid lip service to the Freylarkin, purely to ensure her cooperation. Her former lover, Darlia, however, was an entirely different proposition altogether. He liked the purple-haired scrier – more so than perhaps he cared to admit – and despite Darlia’s crushed resolve, he enjoyed having her around. There were times – many in fact – when he had considered forcibly violating her flesh, purely to sate his own dark desires. Perhaps, once his plan had come to fruition, he would return to his hide and ravage Darlia’s sumptuous body – assuming, of course, that she had not since abandoned his subterranean abode. Though given her severed ties with Freylar, and in light of Lileah’s decision to leave her, it was unlikely that Darlia would leave the relative safety of his hide.

Without any warning, the ambient noise outside the store – in which he was currently holed up – notably increased, bringing with it an end to his otherwise pleasant mood. All pleasurable thoughts of violating Darlia’s body came to an abrupt end, along with his – relatively – pleasant disposition. Keen to learn the reason for the irksome commotion responsible for disrupting his thoughts, he quickly shuffled towards the closed door at the front of the store. Pressing his one good ear against the narrow gap between the door and its frame, he listened attentively to the sounds of Freylarkai shouting outside in the alley.

‘Go home, all of you!’ cried a voice from outside the store. ‘A curfew is now in effect. Stay inside and await further news.’

It was too soon, surely, for Lileah’s renewed invasion of Freylar. The hot-headed telepath was in the borderlands, busying herself with the task of consolidating the retreating Narlakai herd, before ultimately driving them once more towards Freylar. It was foolish to think that Lileah could have rounded up the Narlakai so quickly – he convinced himself – so why then would the Freylarkai impose a curfew now, he wondered. Eager to learn more about the impromptu curfew, he continued to linger by the door, listening with keen interest to the growing number of panicked cries outside.

‘What is going on?’ cried several of the voices, all lacking harmony.

‘They found Riknar’s released body, down by the old bridge.’ proclaimed another. ‘Kirika has imposed a curfew whilst The Blades investigate the crime.’

‘Riknar...’ he repeated quietly to himself.

The name was hauntingly familiar, though try as he might, he simply could not place it. His leering smile began to wither, as the vital clue continued to vex him. Eventually the voices began to fade; presumably, the Freylarkai were going to ground, and the messenger had since moved on. Deciding, finally, to give up on his failing memory, he turned towards the store’s proprietors – mother and daughter – and began to walk slowly towards them. Their wide eyes were filled with terror, and both were shaking uncontrollably. He imagined being able to smell their fear, though given that his poor sense of smell was worse than his memory, such thoughts were entirely fanciful. Nonetheless, he could clearly see their dread, which was enough – for him at least – though the lodger inside of him craved more. Since agreeing to become the parasite’s host, the thing inhabiting his body had become increasingly difficult to appease. His early exploits had been sufficient to sate its twisted desires, but as time marched on, it required increasingly heinous acts. Or perhaps the cravings were in fact his own – he could no longer tell. Regardless, his dark companion had fulfilled its end of their bargain. Since allowing the parasite to infiltrate his body, he felt growing power inside of him, despite his dishevelled appearance – of which he was keenly aware. The parasite had altered his body, turning it into that of a predator; in addition to his abnormal strength, he could now see the fear in his prey – an unexpected side effect of the joining process, which...he enjoyed.

If they could have screamed, they would have, but their sealed mouths prevented such attention seeking behaviour. In addition to fusing their lips together, he had melded their clasped hands behind their backs. He had also given consideration to fusing their legs, thereby completely thwarting any attempts to escape, however, he enjoyed watching his victims resist. Seeing them now, thrashing frantically at the ground with their legs, trying desperately to push themselves away from him, filled him with joy. The struggle was always better than the final, inevitable, act of release.

‘Ah, yes…the fisherman. Now I recall.’ he said aloud, to no one in particular.

During his infiltration of the vale, he had initially stolen the identity of a local fisherman. Casting his mind back to that moment, he recalled now one of the natives calling him by that very name – Riknar – when first he crossed the old bridge leading to the heart of the vale. When carelessly dumping the hapless fisherman’s body into the river, he had clearly paid no attention to the direction of its current. Subconsciously he had assumed the river flowed towards the setting sun, but the reality was clearly not the case. The drowned body of the Freylarkin must have been dragged downstream by the current, towards the old bridge, thus drawing the attention of the forest dwellers.

‘You fool!’ he said, chiding himself.

The unwanted attention would surely slow him down. With a curfew in place, there were bound to be fewer Freylarkai wandering the alleys, making his task more arduous. He would find it difficult, in future, stealing fresh identities and blending in with the crowd. Originally, he had planned to assume the hapless mother’s identity – the thought of posing as a female amused him. However, this setback now altered his plans. He could sense his dark companion’s growing frustration, realising now that its host would be forced to lie low and demonstrate patience. Having come this close he could ill afford to take any rash actions; timing was critical, and he would not allow his plan to be undone, especially not due to the simple boredom of the thing he harboured. Despite the shorter cycles, thanks to the arrival of winter, there was still plenty of time before dusk; in the meantime, he would need something to occupy his mind – at least until sundown – and to appease the hungering darkness inside him. He stopped his slow advance just short of the hapless females, bound and gagged before him. Their backs were pressed firmly against the rear wall of the store. Both were petrified and whimpered incessantly, like newborn Freylarkai. No doubt they clung to the futile hope that The Blades – or perhaps even their pathetic, beloved Guardian – would step forward to save them. He knew better; there was to be no salvation for the cowering pair now. He licked his lips again, almost tasting their fear. The anticipation was euphoric, and he could feel new strength coursing through his body as the growing darkness inside him caused his body to judder with excitement.

‘So, which of you would like to go first?’ he said, widening his black pupil-less eyes. ‘Oh, how forgetful of me. Neither of you can speak! Perhaps I should help you with that...or maybe instead, I should be the one to decide?’

‘Kirika, tell us, what is so pressing that it could not wait until our next scheduled council meeting?’ asked Mirielle, tersely.

Previously, Freylar’s queen had been far less direct with her questions, though since the events at Scrier’s Post, there had been a notable change in Mirielle’s behaviour; her inviting demeanour had eroded in part, revealing glimpses of something sour that lay beneath. Marcus remained largely stone-faced by Mirielle’s side, though she could sense The Blade Lord’s unease at the blunt manner in which the queen commenced their impromptu meeting.

‘I apologise for calling this unscheduled meeting, but I believe that the matter in question cannot wait.’

‘What have you to report, Kirika?’ asked Marcus in his habitual welcoming manner.

‘Krashnar has returned to the vale.’

‘What?! Why would that vile shaper return to Freylar?’ asked Mirielle, who was clearly shocked by her announcement.

‘A good question, one to which I do not know the answer – at least not yet.’

‘Kirika, what evidence do you have of his return?’ asked Marcus calmly.

Prior to calling their meeting, she had thought in depth about whether or not to disclose Rayna’s current condition. She had ultimately concluded that doing so would only serve to draw unwanted attention; by now, Lothnar would surely be at Rayna’s side, and she could not convincingly explain the Paladin’s reason for being there, knowing – courtesy of her second sight – that Marcus would choose to check in on The Guardian’s progress. Past friction between Nathaniel and Lothnar was well documented – why then would Nathaniel accept Lothnar’s aid, when numerous other telepaths throughout the domain could lend their assistance? Until she had a better understanding of Mirielle’s reasons for reneging on Freylarian law, she decided it was best to withhold the information and play her cards close to her chest. Whether Rayna chose to acknowledge the fact or not, The Guardian had become a local hero – in particular amongst the forest dwellers – and had quickly earned the respect of her peers. Due to Rayna’s native home amongst the Sky-Walkers, The Guardian’s revered status had become an incredibly powerful tool; she could not therefore afford for the light bringer’s legacy to be undone by reports of her demise at the hands of an outcast shaper. Rayna was undoubtedly loyal to both her and Nathaniel. If things turned sour when finally she confronted Mirielle about Aleska’s activities at Scrier’s Post, she would likely need The Guardian’s support, and along with it the support of the people. Unwittingly, Rayna was now a rising power in matters of state, and she intended to keep it that way – indirect access to the support of the people was no small thing, and an advantage she would continue to nurture.

‘Riknar’s body was found mutilated down by the old bridge. It had been dumped in the river, and subsequently washed up downstream. When scrying the body, I learned of Krashnar’s presence; he used Riknar’s likeness to infiltrate the vale. I became aware of the situation earlier this cycle, and immediately instated a curfew.’

‘Kirika, you have overstepped your authority in this matter. You were not authorised to investigate the crime, plus issuing a curfew will only create widespread panic amongst the people.’ proclaimed Mirielle sternly. ‘You should have consulted us first, before making such a rash decision.’

Holding on firmly to her new-found conviction, she dug deep, finding the courage to defend her decision. ‘With respect, Queen Mirielle, I did what I felt was right and in the best interests of the Freylarkai. Panic had already started spreading amongst those present; Riknar was renowned for his skill as a fisherman and was well liked amongst the forest dwellers – this crime has shaken them badly. Krashnar is here – in Freylar! He could be anywhere, passing as anyone. He has already released one of our kin, and could well seek to release more in the pursuit of his objective – whatever that is. Whilst I have deliberately refrained from divulging any details, surely we have an obligation to act to protect them?’

‘Regardless of your justification, Kirika, the decision was not yours to make alone.’ replied Mirielle, who had a cold look on her face.

Mirielle’s words incited her anger, not helped by Marcus’ seeming lack of support, yet she was forced to bite her tongue – figuratively speaking. The Blade Lord appeared divided on the matter, which was not entirely surprising; Marcus was loyal to a fault, and with Mirielle’s increasingly questionable judgement, that single character flaw necessitated that she tread carefully around him. For a brief moment, she considered raising the issue of Aleska, but that was her anger threatening to get the better of her judgement. The timing was poor, in light of the latest threat to Freylar, and given Marcus’ current reaction, she needed to speak with him privately on the matter first.

‘Please accept my apologies. May I ask where we now stand on the Trials, in light of this situation?’

‘Am I correct in assuming that all the preparations are complete?’ asked Mirielle.

‘Yes, however, would it not be prudent to cancel the proceedings, in light of Krashnar’s current unknown whereabouts?’

‘No – I will not have that wretched Freylarkin interfere with our traditions. In two cycles, the Trials will proceed as planned. Assuming that she returns from her assignment in good time, Rayna will meet Lothnar’s challenge for the opening duel in the arena.’ said Mirielle resolutely. ‘I trust Marcus to apprehend Krashnar – if indeed the vile shaper still lurks within the vale.

Mirielle was no longer thinking clearly, of that she was certain. The release of so many Blade Aspirants at Scrier’s Post had obviously affected Mirielle’s judgement, placing their queen under a great deal of stress, more so perhaps than she had initially presumed. She glanced once more towards The Blade Lord for support, yet there was none. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Marcus chose to say nothing on the subject. The Blade Lord continued to stand motionless, though she could see now the conflict in his eyes. Despite her new-found confidence, she had clearly lost this round to Mirielle. She recalled the promise she had made to herself, back in the study hall, prior to Rayna’s departure for the Knights Thranis at their Ardent Gate stronghold. So far, she had delivered on that promise – twice in fact – during the current cycle. She would not allow Mirielle’s latest questionable decision to stunt her personal development. However, for the time being at least, she recognised the need to toe the party line. In any event, she now had more pressing concerns to deal with – Rayna’s welfare and ability to participate in the Trials being chief among them. If Lothnar failed to rouse Rayna from her paralysis, she would require an alternate means of expelling the evil inhabiting the light bringer’s body.

It was starting to get late, and moving around after dusk – with Krashnar potentially on the prowl – was unwise. Come the morning, she would return to Nathaniel’s tree and check in on Lothnar’s progress, but for now she needed to rest. Realising that she would have no option but to yield to the queen’s decision regarding the continuation of the trials, and seeking to bring an end to the debate, she nodded respectfully to Mirielle.

‘As you wish, my queen.’ she said politely.

‘Good. Is there anything else you wish to discuss, now that we are all assembled?’

‘No, not at this time.’ she replied, offering Mirielle another polite, well-practised, smile.

‘Very well then, if there is nothing more, we shall meet again after the Trials. If, in the meantime, there is word from Marcus regarding the exiled shaper, we shall meet again to discuss any further action.’

She nodded courteously towards Mirielle then turned slowly to take her leave. As she approached the door, Marcus finally chose to speak.

‘Kirika...we will catch him.’ said The Blade Lord sternly.

She paused for a moment to consider her response carefully. Apprehending Krashnar was all well and good, but allowing the Freylarkai to go about their business, pretending that no threat existed – when clearly one did – was irresponsible in her mind. If nothing else, lifting the curfew would allow Krashnar to move more freely again. It occurred to her then that Mirielle had in fact only implied that the curfew be cancelled – she had not been asked directly to terminate it, nor would she rush to do so.

‘I have no doubt, Marcus, but at what cost?’