Through the Flames (5 page)

Caleb dropped to his knees and crawled over to his father. “You can’t die on me. You just can’t!”

“I am dying,” Michael said in a voice that revealed exhaustion. “I’ve been lying here for no less than half a day now. I’ve lost far too much blood now to be saved, even with the help of a mage.”

“Dad….” Caleb began.

“Listen well, my son. It was fate that removed you from this place before the attack, just as it was fate that brought you to me within my last moments. Fate is a powerful mistress, so I ask you to listen to my last request,” Michael said as he grabbed Caleb’s hand in a loose grip. “The monsters that destroyed our home and attacked us... the monsters that murdered your mother... they deserve nothing but death. Take up the Sword of Kirakath and bring justice to them.”

There were so many things that Caleb wanted to say, but he knew that his father never spoke falsely. If he said that he was dying, then he was dying, and if he had a last request that he wished Caleb to honor, than the young man would do just that.

“What in the abyss is the Sword of Kirakath?” Caleb asked softly, understanding how much the request meant to his father.

Michael smiled softly at his son’s inquiry. “I don’t have the time to answer that question, and I don’t rightly believe I can. I do know that it is a sword of great magical power that was wielded by an ancestor of ours though. I have no idea where the sword is, but I do know how you can find someone who does know.”

“How can I find this person?” Caleb asked with tears beading in the corners of his eyes.

“Go to the wreckage of our house and find where my room was located. There is a storage space underneath my bed where the floor is not nailed down. Within, you will find a sword that looks is of simple design but also looks rather distinctive. If you wear that sword and walk around the city of Caldreth with it at your hip, you will be found and brought before the one that knows where the sword is. That is the only way to learn where the Sword of Kirakath lies,” Michael answered, wincing as the words were spoken. “Finding that sword will probably be easier than finding the ones who did this, but I have a lead to that too.” With that, Michael removed his hand from the top of Caleb’s hand. A small square of cloth that bore the insignia of two crows connected by an arrow remained on top of the youth’s hand.

“You ripped this from their clothes?” Caleb asked, receiving a small nod from his father. “I hope you took some of them out.”

“I didn’t,” Michael said in a sad tone. “They were a force of a hundred armed men, and they were able to get to the clearing before we learned of them. There was no time for me to even arm myself.”

“I promise that I’ll avenge this all. I’ll kill those murderous bastards if it’s the last thing I do,” Caleb vowed as the tears began to flow down his cheeks.

“I know you will… but it won’t be the last thing you do. I can see that now,” Michael said with a smile that should never have been seen on a dying man’s face. “You have a great destiny before you.” The smile vanished as Michael felt himself begin to fade away. “I’m proud of you. I always have been, and I always will be.”

With that, his hand fell to the ground and his eyes took on the glazed over look that always accompanied death.

Tears flowed freely as Caleb looked upon his father. From what he had said, Caleb’s mother was dead as well.

It was a massacre,
Caleb thought as he forced himself to rise to his feet.

Had it not been for his father’s words, Caleb would have stayed there, kneeling over his father and mourning. It was not the time for that though.

With tears still in his eyes, he began to walk towards the remains of his house once again, not surprised to find even more corpses along the way.

There was no doubt in his mind at that moment that it was a true massacre. There were no bandit corpses lying around, but he had already seen the bodies of every villager outside of his mother.

“She really is dead,” Caleb whispered as he reached the remains of his house. His mother was lying on the ground before the wreckage of the house, and she had been struck by three arrows. At least one of them had struck a vital organ.

The feeling that Caleb had upon seeing his mother dead was not a feeling that he had imagined. A sense of apathy began to envelope him at the realization that she truly was dead. Nothing seemed to matter at all. He had thought the world of his mother, and now she was dead. It felt as though the very of light in his life had been extinguished.

Emotion escaped him as he walked around her body and towards the wreckage of the house. Despite his father’s request, he was not interested in actually searching for his father’s sword at that moment. Instead, he dug through the wreckage off to the side of the house and pulled a spade out from beneath a piece of the wall.

Wiping the tears from his eyes with his left hand, Caleb walked behind the house and began to dig three holes, each about four feet away from the other one.

Hours passed as he dug the three holes, each of which was dug as deep as it could be without being too difficult for him to get out of. The entire time, he occasionally wiped tears from his face.

Finally, with the three holes dug and a large mound of dirt to the side, he cast the spade to the side and walked back over to his mother’s body.

He carefully scooped her up into his arms and carried her over to the first hole. With that same level of care, he lowered her into the hole, nearly falling in when he set her to rest.

She remained in the hole without any further actions on Caleb’s part as he carried the cold bodies of Andrew and his father to the holes.

Once his father was in the middle hole and Andrew was in the hole to his right, Caleb picked the spade back up and began the grueling task of filling the holes with the dirt that he had piled up.

Pain lanced through his arms as a result of the repetitious actions of scooping up the dirt and tossing it into a hole. Coupled with the fact that he had just dug three rather deep holes, it was clear that he would not be able to move his arms too easily the next day- not without pain, at least. Still, he kept it up, not taking a break for more than a few seconds.

With the holes finally finished, he dropped the spade to the ground.

“I will avenge you all. Even if it costs me my life, I will kill the bastards that did this to you… to our home… to our people. I will not rest until this is done,” Caleb promised. His voice once again revealed emotion, showing that the apathy had not truly consumed him. “But first, I have to do something.”

With those last words, Caleb looked over his shoulder at the wreckage of the house that he had lived in all his life. The house had been a big part of his family, having been built by his grandfather before he died when Michael had been younger than Caleb was at that moment.

Taking a deep breath, Caleb began to grab pieces of the broken wood of the house and throw them off to the side, clearing as much room as he could until the floor of the room that had belonged to his parents was visible.

With the floor visible, Caleb ducked underneath a wooden beam and crawled towards his father’s bed, which was covered in debris. He slid his hand underneath the bed and tested the floor in certain places by putting his hand down and rubbing it. It did not take long to find the wooden board that rocked freely when he made that motion.

Caleb immediately went for the knife at his belt and withdrew it. Bringing the hunting tool to the loose board, he slipped the blade in at its edge. With a slight amount of force, he propped the board up and picked it up with his free hand. The knife was sheathed at his belt as he carefully set the board down farther back under the bed.

Peering into the open area that was revealed with the board gone, Caleb could easily see that a small storage place had been built there. It was only as wide as a wooden board, but it was actually about a foot deep. There was only one object inside of it at that moment though. That object appeared to be a cloth covered sword.

Sliding farther under the bed, Caleb reached into the storage area and grasped the object with his left hand and carefully lifted it up. As it cleared the opening of the, he slid backwards, exiting from under the bed, which he knew not to be safe in the slightest.

Once out from under the bed, he backed up until he could turn around safely.

It was not until he was outside of the destroyed house that he allowed himself to look at the object that he was holding more closely.

The cloth that was wrapped around it felt softer than any material that he had touched in his life, and it was kept closed by three black ribbons, one at each end and one in the middle.

Setting it on the ground, he carefully undid the ribbons and removed the object from the cloth.

As his father had told him, the object that he kept in the storage area was a sword, but it did not look like any sword that he had ever seen.

It had the design of a rather simplistic longsword, but there was no doubt in his mind that a master blacksmith had forged it. The quality and beauty of the weapon was incredible.

With it sheathed, the unmarked pommel, the hand guard, the locket, and the chape were the only visible metallic parts the sword, but they all shined as if polished. The leather of the grip and the scabbard appeared to be just as finely made, appearing to be as dark as ink.

Grasping the hilt firmly with his right hand, Caleb drew the sword from its sheath. Looking upon the blade confirmed his thoughts that all of the visible metal of the sword looked perfectly polished.

The sword was beautiful in its simplicity, Caleb noted. To him, it looked more magnificent than any jewel encrusted sword that the nobles of the kingdom were said to carry.

They’re definitely going to think I’m a thief,
he thought when his father’s words about attracting the attention of the one that knew where the Sword of Kirakath was located came to mind.

Another thought crossed his mind at that moment that had him frowning.

Why do I feel like I’ve seen this sword before?
The question plagued his mind for a few moments, but he dismissed it after not long after that Later, he would reflect that he should have thought more on it.

Sliding the sword back in its sheath, Caleb rose to his feet. As soon as he was standing up, he attached the scabbard to his belt at his left hip and spared one last glance at the graves that he had built.

I don’t know whether to be glad that Gabriel was gone or wish that he had been here in the hopes that he could have changed everything,
he thought with a heavy sigh. It took every ounce of willpower that he had not to fall apart at that moment, but he felt that he did not have such a luxury.

Dad always taught me to put duty above personal happiness,
Caleb thought with a look of remembrance upon his face.
It’s time I start doing exactly that.

With that, Caleb began to walk towards the trail that he had come from earlier that day. It was without another look towards the destroyed village of Kirakath that Caleb left.

All thoughts of returning to the village in the future, even the distant future, were nonexistent. Caleb’s walk was not that of a man on an errand. It was that of a man that had nothing left to live for.

Maybe I should’ve dug through the house to see if I could get another pair of clothes,
Caleb thought as he looked down at his clothes. Dirt and blood were visible on his tunic and the sleeves of his undershirt. Apparently, digging the graves and handling fresh corpses had a tendency to soil clothing.

The only reason that thoughts of his clothes came to mind was because he was walking down the road towards Caldreth, covered in blood and dirt, with a finely made longsword at his hip.

He sighed as he dusted off his hands on his leggings.

Who am I kidding?
I don’t care what anyone thinks when they see me,
he thought with a grimace.
My home was just destroyed. My family was just murdered. Why should I care?

Anger swelled in him as he placed his left hand on the pommel of his sword. Anger was easier to deal with pain and sadness. It could be vented; pain and sadness could only be healed by time.

Where are you?
Caleb looked off to the horizon. For the thousandth time in the past few days, he wished that Hector was there. He would know what to do. He would have the dedication to do what he needed to. Caleb was sure that he would never lose hope either.