Curseborn Saga - Fade to Black (7 page)

“If you are going…” he began, and Storm’s eyes lit up. “If you insist on going—and I mean to
watch
the Games, not participate in them—I’ll be needing you to bring me a few things back from Trestles.”

“Really?” Storm said. “So it’s really real? There’s really a World Tournament?”

“If you want to find the strongest of our world,” Ronin said, “then you should go and see if it’s real for yourself. Maybe you’ll learn something … about wings and heroes.”

Slowly but surely, the fading Sun sunk beyond the horizon; an inky purple seemed to drip from the edges of the sky, casting the dark wings of Night over the lands of Soria.

Storm could feel his heartbeat accelerating in his chest. What was this feeling that was racing through him? He suddenly stood up and spoke in his truest voice. “I’m going, then.”

Without even the slightest hesitation Caim said, “Me too. I need to be stronger. Stronger than anything if I’m going to become the Dragon King.”

Storm smirked. “It’s just a myth, Caim.” But his brother didn’t hear him, or rather, wasn’t listening.

Storm walked over towards his katana, still pierced into the ground before the Edge. Reaching down to grasp its hilt, he felt a strange sensation upon pulling it from the ground, as if it were acceptance of a new path, a new fate.
Wings and heroes, ka … I’m no fool to believe in such stories for children.

Storm sheathed his katana to his side. “Trestles, huh?” he asked. “That’s the Capital of Falia, isn’t it?”

Ronin didn’t turn around. He stared out over the darkening skies. “You always were one to make up your mind in a single moment.”

“You said it’s in a couple days, right?” said Storm. “I want to see if this is truly real … and I know you want wine from the town, so this had better not be some elaborate trick to get us to find some mystical non-existent tournament because you were too lazy to get your own drink.” He watched as the old man turned to face him, his long black cloak billowing out behind him.

“Don’t be disappointed,” said Ronin. He stared intently at Storm before finally pointing to the north. “Past the forest of
Neverend
and across the great lake where the
Nocturnis Aqua
slumbers, lies the Capital City of Falia
,
Trestles
. It rests upon the other side of Falia, just before the Bridge that Ties Worlds.”

One day I’ll see that other world,
thought Storm. He turned and started immediately for the towering trees of Neverend Forest.

“We really get to go alone?” asked Caim, eager for a new adventure.

Ronin grinned at the good-hearted boy, “I have taught you all I can. The rest you must learn for yourselves. Be wary of the Master of the Forest. Don’t forget that there are many things of this world that cannot be explained. Remember that true strength comes from the heart, and know above all else what I have told you all these cycles. All of us have a challenge born to be ours. Overcome it, and even worlds can change.”

“Yosha!” cried Caim, raising his sword to the sky. “I won’t forget grandpa! And don’t worry, we’ll be back soon!”

“Storm,” Ronin said in a voice that cut the air like a sword. “No matter what … know that you cannot enter the Soldier Games.”

Storm had almost made it to tree line of Neverend forest. He didn’t move for a second, weighing Ronin’s words. “You better not be pulling one over on us, old man.” He looked back at Caim. “Let’s do this.” Storm turned to the dark trees of Neverend and looked up. They had never seemed so tall or ominous. He felt a strange sense of danger lurking just beyond them, and for some reason, every part of his body was telling him not to enter. He stepped forward.

Ronin raised an eyebrow as Caim followed after Storm. “Despite your newfound confidence, be aware of the dangers of Neverend when traveling at night. And by the way—” he said, looking at Caim, “you haven’t eaten yet.”

“Oh, that was a low blow old man!” cried Storm, twisting around.

Caim froze. He reached down to touch his stomach and felt rumbling. He raised his fingers and started counting, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine days! Nine days we’ve been in Inner Depths fighting!”

“Oh, you can finally count?” Storm said with a smirk. “You realize that’s only about half a passing of the shade here on Soria! You can stay and eat if you want … but I’m going. I’ll find something to eat along the way. Probably a giant Raelic, that sounds good.”

Ronin smiled, “I guess two can play at that game.”

Caim could feel his mouth watering as he thought about what they would find to eat in the forest, and despite his every cell commanding him to find food, he followed Storm towards the ever-darkening trees.

“We better find something soon,” he said, sheathing his Fallblade horizontally across his back. He stopped and faced his grandfather. There he was, standing on the very edge of the cliff, his green eyes vibrant in the darkness, his black cloak whipping in the wind. An unexplainable feeling overcame Ronin as he stood there, staring at the two boys about to leave. He realized there were many things he wanted to say, but he merely raised his hand.

“Swift returns!” said Caim, before turning towards the forest.

“Oi!” Ronin called out suddenly. “Catch!”

Caim turned to see something shiny spinning through the air. He caught it. A bright emerald stone sparkled up at him. He held it up to his eye and looked closely. Within the stone were swirls of energy, entwining together and curving beneath its exterior like the fast currents of a river. It was cold to touch and he couldn’t hold it for very long at a time without switching hands. “What is this?” he said. “It looks like stuff is moving around in here… .”

Ronin called from a distance. “That’s your gift for passing the final trials of Inner Depths,” he said. “It’s called a Binding Stone, given to me by an old Alchemist friend of mine. Don’t ask me how it works, though,” he said with a laugh.

Suddenly Storm was standing over Caim. “That little stone you don’t even know how to use is the gift for five hundred rings of our pain and suffering?”

A wry smile hung from the old man’s face. “You would do well not to lose it.”

Caim suddenly felt the emerald stone disappear from his fingertips.

“I’ll hold onto it,” said Storm. “You would definitely lose it.” He slid it into the pocket of his black sweater.

“I WOULD NOT LOSE IT!” yelled Caim, but Storm was already walking toward the forest. “DON’T IGNORE ME!” Caim screamed.

“YOUR POCKET HAS A HOLE IN IT!” Storm screamed back.

“It does?” muttered Caim and stuck his finger through the hole in his pocket. “How’d you know that!? Don’t tell me you got a new power!? Storm!? Oi!!!”

Storm raised his hand above his head as he vanished into Neverend. “Swift returns, old man!”

Just after entering the dark forest, Storm felt a strange feeling and stopped. Slowly turning, he gazed back over his shoulder and his eyes locked with his grandfather’s for a moment. Just beyond their grandfather and past the cliff was a chunk of floating earth with a tiny wooden cabin built on it. Smoke was raising out of the chimney and for a second, he wondered if eating with their old man wouldn’t be so bad. He closed his eyes.
No
, he thought.
I made this choice. I’ll see it through. We’ll eat a great dinner after we get back, as champions of the Soldier Games!

“Oi!” said Caim. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” said Storm, and after one last long stare, he turned and kept walking. Caim smiled at his grandfather before punching his fist into his open palm, then turned and followed his brother.

Their grandfather watched as Storm’s black figure disappeared into the shadows, with Caim following closely behind. He could hear Caim’s yelling grow distant as the two brothers embarked on their new adventure.

Reaching into the inner pocket of his long black jacket, which hung from his shoulders like the cape of a humbled lord, he pulled out a porcelain cup and with it, a glassy bottle filled with dark red wine. With a subtle flick of his thumb, he popped the cork and poured the ruby liquid. The sweet scent of Azalia berries filled his nostrils, and he drank deeply from the cup. His chest grew warm. A sense of accomplishment swept throughout him. The time had finally come.

But just as quickly, Ronin felt saddened by the thought that time had a way of slipping right by. His eyes focused on the dark and towering trees of Neverend; the forest stood before him, swaying in an almost hypnotic dance. And so he felt the flow of time move before him like the wind upon the grass.

After a while he looked up at the glowing moons in the sky and realized he had lost track of the time. Slowly he closed his eyes. Sensing the aura of the forest he reached forward with his mind, searching for Caim and Storm; past the dozens of hidden creatures, the presence of the trees, the life of the leaves and spirits, until he found them. They were making good time and Caim’s flustered aura suggested he was still upset about not being able to hold the stone. A smile came over his face.

Ronin looked to the northwest, across the distant sky to the other floating world of Soria, parallel to Falia. It was magnificent to look at; thousands of tiny lights lit up the land like a mist of stars. “Risia …” he said quietly, staring intently at the hundreds of trickling vines hanging from the bottom of the floating country. “The land of the Risians … the land of Nobility. Heirs to the blood of the Dragon King, ka …” His thoughts changed, angered by his own words. From the center of Risia, rising high into the night, a glimmering castle of diamond illuminated a bubble of glowing aura around itself. He took in the sight for a few moments, remembering all the questions Caim and Storm had ever asked about the castle known as Aurora’s Light – home to the Empress of Soria.

From behind, a burst of fresh air surged past him, awakening him from his thoughts. And in a light tone he whispered to the passing winds, “Your fates have come upon you, boys. And soon … all your questions will be answered.”

VI – The Lift of Doom

I
t wasn’t long before the three sisters gathered their courage and abandoned the tiny courtyard next to the castle. They traveled down winding stone paths, taking in the sound of tinkerers and the smell of nature as they went. Great golden oaks adorned both sides of their way as they walked, and the tips of the towers seemed to sway high, high above them. The sun was climbing higher into the sky, casting a shimmer of orange and yellows on the diamond walls of Aurora’s Light; they stood for a moment admiring the sight before continuing. Passing down a steep staircase overlooking one of the tiny towns outside the castle, they came upon a long meadow full of blue flowers and passed through it quietly. In the distance the tower of the Force, the home of the Valyti, rose before them. It wasn’t long before they stood before it.

The soaring tower loomed over them as if they were ants before a massive tree. It was thick, thicker than a hundred tree trunks. There were no windows, just random notches, and Remi felt that if a skilled Sorian were to try and climb it, one might actually succeed – had they absolutely no fear of heights at all. High upon its sides, colossal black chains connected the tower before them to the central one, as if forever shackling itself to the side of its master. She shivered at the thought of walking upon the eerie chains, a thousand feet off the ground, and wondered if it had ever been done.

Why they would summon us to the Valyti
? Remi thought. She had heard rumors of the Valyti many times. It was a magical place, and a place of bloodshed, a place where great duels and battles had taken place. She imagined a dark prison with terrifyingly huge warriors wielding blood-splattered axes, glaring at her with gleaming eyes. She wanted more than anything to know the reason they were being summoned. No matter how hard she thought, she couldn’t come to a conclusion that wasn’t negative. It was practically the same as being summoned to meet with the Empress.
Well, maybe not quite that extravagant
,
she thought
.
Nonetheless, the call seemed to have come out of nowhere. Surely, neither Maile nor Baelie’s actions could have brought forth such an occurrence.

The warmth of daylight blanketed them as they stood upon the grass, gazing about in different directions.

“Um …” began Remi, “there’s no door.”

Baelie pushed her way past. “Duh, Remi, they can fly.”

Maile’s eyes widened. “They can?”

Baelie beamed. “Oh yeah.”

“Oh great,” said Remi. “They think we can fly too?” She placed her hands on her hips.

The three pondered silently. And then suddenly, as if the tower had heard their curious thoughts, the ground began to shake around their feet.

Maile screamed and Remi grabbed her hand. “What’s happening!?” shrieked Remi. Great tremors rippled past them like the intense shaking of a volcanic eruption. Remi heard the clank of armor as Baelie fell onto her behind, and then, there before them like the parting of a sea, the ground creaked and split, revealing a narrow dark path that led downwards into the earth and toward the tower. Then all was silent. Puffs of dirt floated on the wind as the girls regained their balance and Remi fixed her hair.

“I can’t believe we’re entering Lady Scylla the Valiant’s tower!” exclaimed Baelie.

Remi stared at her sister. “The ground just opened up to us as if it heard and answered our thoughts and
that’s
what you’re thinking about?! And you don’t have to say her entire title every time you speak her name, it’s weird.”

“You’re weirder,” said Baelie. “And I’m going to tell Lady Scylla the Valiant you said that.”

Remi glared at her sister before turning to look at Maile. The poor girl was clearly bewildered and terror-struck.

“It’s ok, Maile,” Remi said. “I’m sure this is normal… .” She wasn’t even sure if she believed her own words.

Maile glanced up at her with panic-stricken eyes and nodded. “But what if they’re monsters in there?” Her words were shaky and she soon noticed her older sister wasn’t paying attention at all. In fact, Remi was watching a shredded piece of her book that had fallen out of her pocket flutter through the air.

“Remi …?” whispered Maile.

Remi snapped back to reality. She was still angry that her favorite book had been diced into tiny little pieces. “I’m here, Maile. Don’t worry. I’m sure they wouldn’t tell us to come if there were monsters. The Empress would be most displeased.”

Maile took one look into the dark thin crevice they were to walk down into and stood there, shaking her head. “I wish they didn’t have such a scary entrance … maybe there is another way?” She looked around with little hope, trying to find a way inside. High above, what seemed like an entrance caught her eyes. But the spiraling stairs that led toward it did not start at the ground level, and what little hope she had disappeared.

Remi would have agreed, had it not been the Force Corps who were summoning them. The Force Corps and the Shield Corps were almost as powerful as the Empress of Soria. There was absolutely no one who ignored their orders. “It’ll be fine, Maile, I’m sure it’s safe,” she lied.

“Hurry up, you two! This is Force Corps tower –
the
Force Corps tower!” yelled Baelie, who was already plunging down the strange dark passage.

Remi and Maile took a deep breath, and followed their sister. The pathway was so narrow they had to walk in single file, and the sides of the walls were lined with hardened earth. Small chunks of dirt and rock occasionally fell into the pathway, startling them, and Remi regretted the moment she reached her hand out to touch its sides, feeling a chill of cold rock and moisture. Upon glancing at the rocks in the dirt, she noticed they had glowing blue veins running through them, and with that light, they were able to make their way through. The smell of mud and dirt loomed around them like an invisible cloud and it wasn’t long before they came upon a tall stone door with the insignia of the Empress carved upon it – a lone shield positioned behind a rising spear with a fire-blowing dragon twisting up the shaft.

“Should we—” Remi was interrupted as the towering door shook and slid to the sides, releasing a sound of rock scraping over rock and revealing the entrance to the tower. Inside, two female guards stared at the three sisters as if a stray dog had just appeared on their doorstep and they knew not what to do with it.

“Reporting as ordered!” said Baelie, and gave the Sorian salute, which involved thrusting her fist inwards and positioning it before her chest with her elbow was bent out to the side.

“Eh?” said one of the guards in a voice that could barely be recognized as female. She wore light armor, a skirt of silver and a tight black tunic covered with links of steel. It was the basic uniform given to all female soldiers of Risia. She had short violet hair that barely reached past her ears and wore a harsh expression, as if she had been forced to open the tower door too many times that day.

As the three sisters stood there motionlessly, the other female guard broke the silence. “These are the
ones
,” she said, “the pretty little adopted daughters of the Empress. How blessed we are to be graced by your presences.”

Something about her voice made Remi feel as if she were looking down on them, almost like she had offended the soldier in some way, yet had no idea as to how. Maile stood cowering behind her, trying with all her might not to be seen.

“No need to fear, I have arrived!” boasted Baelie.

“Excellent,” said one of the guards, rolling her eyes.

“Maybe not all pretty” the other guard muttered with a smirk.

Remi glared at the guards, “Are you going to let us pass or keep us out in the dirt all day?”

After a brief hesitation and few more glances of unexpected contempt, the two female soldiers lifted their silver pikes with dangling red ribbons and allowed the three sisters entrance to the tower.

“By all means, enter oh royal ones.”

“I mean no intrusion,” whispered little Maile as she entered, but the two guards ignored her.

Remi watched as Baelie walked quickly into the center of the massive circular room. The inside of the tower glowed with such a pure white that Remi could not believe it was the same stone used to build the exterior of the tower. Bright lanterns gave off a bluish glow from crevices in the stone. Dozens of ancient weapons were hung all around, each one before a deep black shield with the engraving of the Empress’s Insignia on it.

“Never thought I’d be standing in here …” muttered Remi. Maile clung to her side.

At the far end of the room stood a silvery glass container the size of a small room. Tiny emerald stones were placed with perfect precision around its base and circling around it were bright ruby gems. Something about it seemed almost magical. A sliding glass door blocked the entrance to the mystery inside, and a misty vapor rose from within.

“What’s that?” Remi asked. The guards did not answer her, nor even turn to look in her direction.

“Fine then,” said Remi, irritated. “You probably don’t even know.” Still, the guards did not heed her words.

“Rakaella, you take them down. I had to go last time.” Said the guard with the violet hair.

“Ughh,” Rakaella moaned, “Why don’t you do it, Lithael?”

“Stop being so damn lazy and just do it alright!” Lithael snapped.

“You’re just angry about the guy from last night,” Rakaella muttered.

Rakaella, who had long tasseled white hair, walked to the center of the room. Remi watched her with suspicion. It seemed Maile had the same feeling, for she had not moved more than a few inches away from her sister. There, in the center of the room, the guard raised her hand over a small ring carved into the floor. From the edges of the ring three lines streamed outward toward a much larger ring. Remi stared at the carvings in the floor as the guard muttered something inaudible. Soft light began to emanate from the Rakaella’s hand as her aura became visible and leaked toward the floor. As her energy touched the stone, the smaller ring illuminated first, and then the three streaming lines toward the final bigger ring. An instant later an all-black altar rose toward the guard’s hand until it came to a stop beneath her palm. It had striking features, with many perfectly carved runes engraved on the sides. It was as if dozens of snakes had joined together and been turned to stone. A second later, a white ring about ten feet in diameter began to glow around the altar, like the outer rim of an eclipse.

Interesting
, thought Remi.
A fusion of Alchemy and aura.

“Let’s
go
,” said Rakaella.

“Go where?” muttered Remi.

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” she snapped. “You were the ones summoned, not me.”

Remi’s eyes narrowed. That was until she felt Maile touch her hand. She knew she had to be brave and calm for her sister. She took a deep breath and walked forward, stepping over the outer edge of the ring, and feeling as if spikes might jump up at her. Maile was equally cautious, placing one toe first to check, then quickly dashing over it and lunging to her sister’s side.

“Can’t believe they’re the ones,” Lithael said. Rakaella smirked and shook her head. Remi shouldered the insult without remark.
You are above this, so act like it,
she thought.

“Let’s
go!
” cried Rakaella, clearly lacking patience.

“We’re here already!” shrieked Remi, before realizing the guard was speaking to Baelie, who stood motionless at the end of the room, her eyes locked on a long flowing mural.

“
This is
…” Baelie spoke in a whisper, as if she had just stumbled upon a long-lost treasure. A painting rose before her like a majestic sculpture painted with all the different colors of the world. It depicted what looked to Remi like a great battle in the Darknis – the realm of black space beyond their world where the celestial stars came and went. In it the Force and Shield Corps were converging on a great black beast, cloaked in dark flame, and with piercing white slits for eyes. Directly below it one of the Sorian soldiers was flying straight up at the demonic beast, holding an extravagant midnight spear adorned with crimson ribbons. Powerful emerald wings, as if made of pure energy, grew from his back as he soared upwards, and a bright light emanated from the tip of the spear as it ascended toward the black monster.

“Eiendrahk
,
”
Baelie whispered.

“Baelie, come on already!” shouted Remi. With lasting hesitation, Baelie finally peeled her eyes away from the mural, all the while reciting words quietly under her breath. With clanking footsteps she came to the center of the room, a few feet from the twisted black altar.

“Hold on,” said Rakaella with a wry smile. Before Remi could say anything, she felt something yank her feet in place. Her eyes rushed to the stone floor where she found nothing holding her feet down. She immediately felt confused. Something was definitely holding her feet down. Her heart jumped, feeling as if she had just been trapped, or tricked by the guards.