The Chronicles of Kale: Dawn of Retribution (Book 2) (22 page)

BOOK: The Chronicles of Kale: Dawn of Retribution (Book 2)
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“I can do this . . .” He lightly bounced upon the balls of his feet. “I’m not going to die here.”

Silence engulfed the room once again and, as quickly as the cracks had formed, they ceased. Kale had been so focused on finding a way to survive he hadn’t noticed what had happened around him. Everything as far as the eyes could see, was gone. There was no stone floor, only empty darkness below. The walls had fallen into the abyss and a crimson sky spanned in all directions. Dark clouds scattered above in a sporadic pattern. A steady gust of wind sifted through Kale’s hair and pressed against his body. He moved his footing to ensure he had good balance. Kale’s gut felt weighted at the sight of his surroundings. He had nowhere to go—he was held hostage upon the altar.

“The snake . . .” Kale whispered. “If it is you again, then show yourself, coward! You have me trapped, so come forth and confront me—I shall show you my strength you mock!”

“You are just as I had thought you to be—courageous in a time of trial,” a deep rumbling voice spoke. “I have had great faith in you, Firehart, since the moment you hatched. For this reason, I have chosen to imbue great things upon you. It is you, Firehart, whose eyes I shall open—for it is also you who will become leader of dragon-kind.”

“Who in Pan’s name do you think you are?! I am done being who, and what, everyone expects,” Kale replied angrily.

“Decline if you desire, the choice is yours to make—though I do not believe your heart will allow it so,” the voice replied.

Kale grew silent as a large, grey, glowing sphere of smoke hovered above. He shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “What
are
you? How do I know this isn’t a trap . . . or that I truly am
not
dreaming?”

“I know you wish to do good in your world—that much you cannot conceal from me, young dragon.” The voice disregarded Kale’s questions and continued, “Look to your heart.”

The voice spoke from so closely that the hair on Kale’s neck prickled up. He looked over a shoulder—nothing was there except the orb of swirling smoke which seemed to have shifted positions unnoticed.

“It is time for a decision to be made. Do you find it within yourself to accept this fate? Once you
see
, it cannot be undone. You are a born leader; even if it is unrealized. Great evil stirs—immense power. You, Firehart are the one to stand and challenge what could become a horrible fate for your world.” As the voice spoke, light radiated from the orb.

“I . . .” Kale’s mind trailed back to Elanya’s warning and of his encounter with the snake. He then thought of his friends—and Neelan. He had made a promise to always protect her.

Kale closed his eyes and listened not with his ears, but with his very soul. Despite his uncertainties, at that moment he felt it safe to trust the mysterious voice.

“Yes. I’m ready.” Kale’s eyes shot open with a newfound look of determination.

“Then it is time to see the truths of present and future,” the voice replied.

The sky darkened and wind spiraled around Kale’s body like a turbulent cyclone. He clung to the altar in fear of losing balance. Blackness soon consumed his surroundings until he could no longer see. He closed his eyes and listened—footsteps. He slowed his breathing to better hear. The sound drew closer and, without control of his own movement, his eyelids fluttered open. For a moment, he felt as though he was being pulled from his body. A sudden flash of light filled his eyes and, when he regained focus, he could see that he was no longer upon the altar.

Kale now stood within a dimly lit corridor. The pattering of steps continued until two figures could be seen approaching. It was too dark to distinguish them, but Kale could see one stood with a sturdy frame, and the other, smaller in build. He could see the faintest glimmer of silver which tapped against the larger mans belt and knew they must be carrying weaponry. Behind Kale was a solid wall; he knew there was no way to move but in the direction of the men. Kale slowly walked forward, cautiously taking each step in readiness of conflict.

“Hello, I mean no harm. Can you tell me where I am?” Kale spoke politely to reveal himself before any misunderstanding could occur. He did not want the men to consider him an enemy.

There was no response. Kale watched as the men drew closer.

“Pardon me, but—” Kale’s words choked within his throat as he saw that the individuals had no faces.

Where eyes and a mouth should be was a shadowy darkness. Despite Kale standing before them in the center of the narrow hallway, the men continued to approach at a brisk pace.

The two individuals easily took up the width of the corridor, leaving no room for Kale to sidestep. Kale braced his footing and extended an arm to signal the men to halt. He gasped aloud as the air suddenly grew frigidly cold and the larger of the men slipped directly through his body. Kale realized they could not see nor hear him. It was as though they—or quite possibly he, were a ghostly entity.

Kale spun around to watch the men and widened his eyes in surprise at the sight ahead. The stone wall where he had first stood now had a wooden door in place. He shook his head and took a second glance before assuring himself that his mind was not playing tricks. Kale was certain there had been no door. He took a step away from the corridor walls, unsure as to what might change next.

The smaller of the faceless men fumbled with something Kale couldn’t make out against the darkness. The man raised his hand to a keyhole in the door and inserted the object inside. Though no sound, aside from their footsteps, could be heard, the door inched inward and the men stepped inside.

Kale could not suppress his curiosity and quickly followed behind. He nearly stumbled upon his own foot as a figure upon the floor came into clear view. This time, Kale could see a face—a familiar face that tore at his heart in a fit of rage. Before him, lay Neelan.

Her body was covered in dirt, her hair matted and damp. He could see the white cloud escaping her quivering lips. She was so cold—so helpless. Around her ankle was a thick, steel chain which was crusted with an outer layer of rust.

“Neelan . . . how did this happen?! This must be a dream—there is no way I would ever allow something such as this to befall you!” Kale looked around for any sight of the grey orb. “Please . . . please, please—wake up!” He slapped a hand across his own face.

Footsteps broke his thoughts and he spun around to see the larger man approaching Neelan. Kale defensively stood before her fallen body and extended his arms.

“Do not touch her!!” Kale forced the air from his lung to yell as loudly as he could in hopes of making contact with the man.

Cold air chilled his flesh as the man stepped directly through his body.

The man gripped Neelan by her hair as she squirmed and flailed her arms wildly. The man flung her forcefully against the wall, slamming his boot into her gut.

Kale cried out angrily as blood spat from her mouth. He violently flung his arm toward the man in a fit of anguish. His fist caught air with every attempt——it was hopeless.

“Get me out of here!” Kale cried out. “Why would you bring me to see such a sight when I can do nothing to stop it?!” He growled furiously and, in an instant, claws tore through his fingers. “Show yourself! I foolishly trusted you, and now you force me to watch the one I love be beaten?! Dream or not, your act was cruel and unacceptable!” His chest throbbed with every breath.

Before Kale’s very eyes, the world around him began to fade as a thick fog blanketed his body. The air was heavy and moist, causing raised bumps to form upon his arms.

“Where have you taken me now? I must return to ensure Neelan is still safe with the others.” Kale swiped the fog with his claws. “Will you still not show yourself?! What have you to hide?”

The fog began to steadily clear, and Kale could see the faint silhouette of two individuals upon a wide, snow-covered platform. Kale moved forward, camouflaged by the night sky. He ducked low, without foliage or rock to hide behind. His mind stirred, no longer able to distinguish dream from reality. He wondered if this time would be as before—faceless humans who could not sense his presence near. As he closed in on the figures, he could see they were engaged in combat. Though his eyes had adjusted to the dull lighting cast upon them by the stars above, he still could not make out any of their features. It was as though he were watching two shadows, dancing in combat. They swung their swords in a rhythmic pattern that chimed out against the otherwise silent surroundings.

The two individuals were highly skilled in swordsmanship and repeatedly countered the others oncoming attacks. Finally, one of the warriors fell, but not to his demise—he struck the standing opponent with his blade.

Kale watched as the victor staggered to his feet, before raising his sword to the heavens in triumph.

Suddenly, a figure approached the warrior. Though Kale could see no more than the shadows of their forms, he could sense that the two must be comrades by their defenseless behavior toward one another. As the victor moved closer, Kale’s jaw dropped as he watched the other individual pull a dagger, plunging it into the warrior’s chest. Within a brief moment, the warrior collapsed to his knees.

The first humanly sound rang out—a single, roaring scream. It curdled in Kale’s ears and rattled within his skull. It was the sound of pure anguish. Kale knew this voice—an all too familiar voice. This voice . . . was his own.

Chapter 21: The Dragon God, Pan

“W
hat is this?!” Kale looked in the direction from which the cry came, but could see nothing.

His palms felt abnormally damp as he slid his fingers against one another in bewilderment. It was far too moist to be perspiration. He lifted his hands to inspect the cause and air quickly filled his lungs as he gasped aloud. A thick coat of fresh blood covered his palms, smelling heavily of iron. Kale’s mind raced with questions as he shot a glance in all directions.

Without hesitation, Kale shoved off from his left foot and began to sprint toward the fallen warrior.

Am I the victim? Was I the one who attacked the victorious warrior? What part have I played in this terrible mess?!
Thoughts clouded his rationality, and he found himself no longer concerned about the dangers that might await him atop the snow-covered platform. 

He ran for what felt like an eternity—yet his destination remained at the same distance from him as before. Kale stopped and buckled forward to grip his knees, while struggling to catch his breath. His lungs burned and sides ached.

“These visions do not help me with anything! Everything thus far has been equally useless!” Kale wiped his hands carelessly against his pants.

A light shone from behind, and Kale turned to see the grey orb hovering at eyes height.

“Not all is meant to
help
you, Firehart,” the deep voice spoke, “But to prepare you for the trials ahead.”


Prepare
me?! Why not simply show me how to prevent such things from happening? I will never allow Neelan to be taken from me in such a manner—and I haven’t any idea who, or what,
this
was all about!” He gestured toward the platform.

“Everything in the future has a chance to be rewritten. Though I cannot show you how, young dragon. Balance is the key to sustaining life; no man—nor dragon, should be given the sight of the Gods. That is the beauty of being mortal . . . you may shape your own destiny. What I have shown you is more than should be revealed. But I see hope through you, Firehart. You are my chosen one, and it is very important that you view what
may
come, should the evils at hand not be stopped.”

“Games.” Kale balled his fists. “Always games! Why can no one in this forsaken world ever be helpful?”

“Enough!” The grey orb flashed brightly, and a bellowing roar rattled the ground. Smoke poured from the orb as it rapidly increased in size.

Soon, Kale could see the eyes—then the sizable jaws, filled with deathly sharp teeth that easily eclipsed more than half of his own body in size. A large, leathery head appeared, raising high above where Kale stood.

In the area where the orb once was, now stood the most massive being Kale had ever laid eyes upon. Kale’s breath slowed as he recalled a dream he once had. He recognized the dragon’s mighty wings, tucked upon his back, and the grand spikes which began at his jaw line, moving up along his spine.

Kale took a step back in astonishment. “You’re . . .” he whispered, “
Pan
.”

Chapter 22: Chosen

K
ale fell to a knee and lowered his head in respect.

“Rise,” Pan commanded. “Though you are courageous, your words display great ignorance. Do not force me to reconsider my decision about you. When the time comes, you will understand what you have seen on this day. It is important for you to realize there are some things even you cannot control. Everything you do in life—from the words you speak, to the objects you touch—they all impact your future, and those around you. It is the cause and effect of the universe, young dragon.”

“I don’t really understand . . .” Kale tilted his head to look at Pan. “The way you speak makes it sound as though my future can be rewritten, yet you say there are still things I cannot control.”

Pan released a loud gust of air from his snout. “The journey of life is full of surprises. A path for you has been laid out, though sometimes we might stray off course. Regardless of how you get there—your destination will always remain the same. This is the way of fate.”

An amplified
crack
could be heard, and Kale turned to find himself staring into darkness. Rigid bolts of lightning crackled across the sky, followed by roaring rolls of thunder.

“Where am I n—” Kale glanced over a shoulder to find Pan gone. He was once again surrounded by an eerie nothingness.

Kale took a step forward and felt his footing slip. His arms quickly extended as he teetered on the edge of what he recognized by touch, to be the altar. With a swipe of his hands, and a pull of his upper body weight, he managed to secure himself upon the limited platform area. He wiped the many beads of perspiration from his forehead and sighed in relief. His mind began to analyze what might happen if he fell—with nothing all around, he pondered if he would ever reach bottom. Curiosity grew strong, yet rational thoughts were still dominant. He assumed Pan would soon return with another vision to share.

“Our time has come to an end, for now,” a voice rumbled.

Kale looked outward in surprise. He hadn’t expected such an abrupt ending to his encounter.

“I know you will do great things, Firehart. You are a much greater warrior than you are aware. Know that I am always near, young dragon. Farewell . . .” Pan’s voice drifted into silence.

“Wait—wait! How do I leave this place?” Kale called out while standing helplessly alone in the darkness.

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