Part 1 Chapter 5

Chapter 5

            The Siren general lay dead on the ground. Calvin limped over to the wall and came to a rest at its base. He looked up at the sky through the slots in his mask. It was done. A strange feeling flooded his weary body. It felt like joy, but it filled his body like regret. Every part of his body felt uneasy, but it was a pleasant unease. Calvin accepted the feeling and closed his eyes. The other two Sirens watched from the distance, unsure or unwilling to take further action. As Calvin pondered, the voice returned. “They await your orders, Harbinger.” Calvin nodded. “Leave me. Go and await further orders.” It was only a whisper, yet the Sirens heard it. He saw them bow and depart.

            Calvin didn’t feel sick. The normal nausea that followed a battle didn’t show up. His body had accepted the bloodshed, the violence, and the screams. It kept him at peace: a mercenary who feels remorse does not last long. He pulled the mask off his face. It had no design on it like the other Sirens. “Why a mask?” A sudden rush of wind caught his attention. The sole Dragoon that escaped had made a feint. The soldier plummeted at Calvin. His body was too sore to move quickly. Somehow, he made it out of the way. A few more Dragoons returned with him. Calvin stood and pain shot signals all around his body. His feet were shaky and his knees were unstable.

            “Call them. Call the wrath of the Sirens upon these interlopers.” The voice echoed into this head louder than before. “Sirens. Kill them all!” As soon as the words left his mouth, several Siren troops appeared before him. Each soldier wore a suit of armor like Jealousy’s, but each ones’ mask had similar patterns. What impressed Calvin was their synchronized use of Dark Magic. They had used a Dark spell that allowed for teleportation. Those who used it nicknamed the spell ‘Blink’, because it took you to another location faster than you could blink. The troops surrounded the Dragoons and started flinging spells at the Dragoons. Once they had taken flight, the Sirens used Blink to appear behind the peaked Dragoons. Unable to turn around or fight the foes midair, the Dragoons dropped like flies. All the Sirens disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.

            No sooner had they disappeared then a familiar silhouette poked itself over the horizon. Within a few minutes, the welcoming face of Tyrell came into view. Calvin smiled and held up his fist in victory. But Tyrell’s face was troubled when he responded in kind to acknowledge Calvin’s success. “How is he not excited by this win?” He muttered under his breath. “I succeeded where he failed.” Tyrell approached. Behind him was a transport wagon. Ivan led the horses, and in the back sat the boy Alec and another blonde kid. Ivan handed some papers to a guard and entered. Tyrell stayed behind to help Calvin. Calvin brushed away his help and marched into the city on his own accord.

            Calvin seemed to embrace a more menacing aura. His normally tolerable scowl had become filled with superiority. Tyrell followed slightly behind. Calvin pushed and growled his way through the crowd while Tyrell weaved his way through using a Time inoculation. When they approached the palace, the Royal Guards welcomed Tyrell, but gave an even harsher warning to Calvin than the first time. Calvin responded likewise. The two soldiers entered the council room where Ivan and Norton were talking. The sarcastic nature of Norton and the calm demeanor of Ivan made for very interesting converstation.

            “General.”

            “Mercenary.” There was a pause. It extended for a very long period of time. Almost disastrously long. Tyrell began to hum softly to alleviate the painful awkwardness. The conversation repeated once again. Then the silence returned. Norton finally cracked. “I like you. I don’t say that often, so I hope you are happy.” Ivan nodded. Norton sat down and motioned for the servants to leave. Once everyone was gone, he pulled out a hidden bottle of classy Col wine. He leaned over the table and poured Ivan a glass. “I hate this stuff,” He said as he poured himself a glass, “But it is the only palatable wine this side of Ilroy.” Ivan took a sip and put the glass down. “Agreed.” The pause stretched again.

            Norton broke it by laughing. Then he threw the glass full force on the ground. “Do you think this is a joke, sell-sword?” His voice echoed through the hollow chamber. The fragments glistened from the wine and light.

            “I’m sorry, general.”

            “You had better be.” Tyrell straightened up. “General Norton, I would ask you to treat our boss better.” Norton dismissed Tyrell with a wave. “My entire strategy has been dissolved by you mercenaries. I was planning to march in three days,” He stomped onto some of the fragments to make a point, “And now I need to stay here in case of Siren retaliation.” His voice kept booming. “So they were Sirens?” Ivan took another sip of his wine and stood. “And my man was able to fend them off. I do not see the problem here.” He took another sip and let it fall to the ground. The glass shattered.

            Norton drew his sword and ran at Ivan. Tyrell drew a knife and reacted to the General’s move. The mage moved with enhanced speed and blocked the attack at the commander’s orders. “It seems that my men are more competent than you give the credit, General.” Norton paused and sighed. “You are right.” He sat down again and pulled out a wooden flagon. He poured himself some more wine. “Thank you, Tyrell.” Norton hesitated halfway through his drink. The General glanced at the older-looking mercenary. Tyrell leaned against a pillar and crossed his arms. Norton shot a glance at Ivan. “Is he…the convict Tyrell?” Ivan nodded. “Yes. Yes he is.” The General began to sweat as he shot another wary look at the Aeon. Tyrell smiled and straightened up. Norton cleared his throat and spoke. “Well…This has taken an unexpected turn. Perhaps we can discuss this…in more comfortable accommodations?” Ivan smiled.

            “Certainly. But let’s get something stronger that this waste-water.” Norton gave a nervous laugh and led the way to his quarters. “This way. I have some Daylanian Fire Whisky back here somewhere.”

            “Now that sounds delightful.”

*****

            Alec and Ryan wandered the streets of Col towards the temple. “You really don’t need to accompany me to the temple.”

            “Actually, I would feel like I cheated you if I didn’t.” Alec and Ryan gawked at most of the vendors in the marketplace. Alec took a step towards a stall and spied a blade. “Wow…”

            “Ah! So you like the blade?” Ryan stepped forward and lifted the blade off the table. A faint blue aura surrounded him. The blade itself began to glow a faint shade of red. “Hmm…A fine blade.” The vendor scoffed. “Ha! The darn thing won’t sell. If you like it, I’ll give it to ya for fifty pieces.” Ryan glanced down at the sword. The vendor hadn’t seen the sword glow. If he had, the price would have multiplied by ten. “A fair deal, Alec. It seems that this blade was meant for you.” Alec took the blade from Ryan’s hands.

            It was a surreal weapon. It was built like a Daylanian war katana, his favorite style of weapon. The blade extended about three feet. The grip was two foot long, making the blade have greater reach. The guard was shaped like an eight-pointed star with fancy and delicate golden designs inlaid in the brass. A silver pattern decorated the base of the blade, revealing the swords maker. “Who is Yumara?” Ryan looked panicked for a moment, then shrugged. “I’ve never heard of him.” Pieces of quartz dotted the blade and guard, most likely the source of the glow that Ryan caused earlier. He ran a finger down the flat along the edge. The weapon curved slightly. Other than that, it looked like a standard sword. This quality made it extremely deadly when used en masse by a fighting force.

            “Very well…I’ll take it.” Alec paid out the pieces and took the blade with its sheath. He hung the weapon on his belt. Ryan pointed to it once they had turned. “The handle gets pointed downward: it is easier to draw that way.” Alec looked at it and adjusted it. It felt weird, it looked weird, but Ryan was right. Alec grunted to acknowledge his own stupidity. “Anyway,” Ryan said once they were out of earshot of the vendor, “The blade is a Yumara?”

            “Yes.” Ryan got excited. “Yumara is a weapon smith out of Loc! His blades are the finest in Iltaz.”

            “Wow…”

            “Not only that, but Yumara only makes magic weapons and sealing weapons. If that is a Yumara, it must be a magic weapon.” The blade seemed to feel heavier as Ryan spoke. “Wow…I know. I should give this to Father. He’s wanted a war katana for ages now. He can use a magic weapon as long as he is a mage, right?”

            “Of course.”

            “Then I’ll do that. Thanks, Ryan.” The two shook hands and started off to the temple again. A priest exited and pointed to some glyphs on the walls. A scholarly looking man followed and leaned in. The two men conversed for a while and the priest left. Alec and Ryan stepped up to see what was so special about the glyphs. The man was muttering something in a different language. He kept repeating certain words and phrases over again. The most common one was “Gii’rohn shall bear forth the end.” He sighed and glanced towards Alec and Ryan. “Oh dear. I did not see you there. My name is Logan.” He bowed. Ryan bowed shortly afterward. “I am Ryan. It is a pleasure to meet you, master Logan.” Logan chuckled. “Please, I prefer that you call me Gobehyz Logan. ‘Gobehyz’ – meaning wanderer – is my title; just as you have a title, Tolel Ryan.”

            “’Tolel’? What does that mean?” Logan smiled calmly. “It means learning one.” Ryan blushed a bit and bowed in thanks. “I am Alec, Ryan’s escort.” Alec extended his hand. Logan tilted his head for a moment before accepting. “This is such an odd custom. I am not used to this greeting.” The two shook hands. “By the by, what language were you speaking?” Logan smiled and lifted a book. “That was Dosean. I tend to mutter it when I’m studying.”

            “What are you studying now?” The scholar smiled even broader. “I’m searching Iltaz and Argondos for these glyphs. They tell an interesting story.” He opened the pages and showed Alec. “I-I’m sorry, master Logan. I cannot read.”

            “My apologies. I’m sorry, Alec.” Alec shook his head. Ryan stepped forward. “What is this…?” Logan whispered excitedly. “I don’t know. It is thrilling!” He ran his hand down the wall. “I’m getting close though.” He sighed. He turned and motioned for Ryan to follow. “Farewell, Sir Alec. I hope to see you soon.” The two entered the temple. Alec turned and walked back to the horses.

*****

            The General downed his mug shortly after Ivan did. The two poured themselves another mug of the alcohol. Calvin and Tyrell stood by the door. “So, Ivan. I want your people to fight alongside us when we march on Syl.” Ivan sat in silence. “I cannot say yea or nay. I am concerned for the safety of my men.” Norton nodded. “I hate waiting. Your man gave me a price, and I’m willing to pay it.”

            “Did he now?” Ivan turned to Calvin. “And why did he do that?” Calvin opened his mouth to say something, but Tyrell cut him off. “I think, however, that our terms have changed. We had no intentions of provoking the Sirens, and now we has incurred their wrath. Our options have indeed narrowed, but I believe it may be safer for your men if we stayed out of this war, General.” Norton gave another dismissive wave of his hand. “They don’t care. Besides, Col makes good on its dues,” He took a sip before finishing the thought, “As should mercenaries.”

            “It would seem that we are obligated to help you then, General. I will return to you soon to renegotiate our contract fees. Until then, fare thee well.” Ivan said. The General grunted and shooed the men away. They left the room and walked through the castle. Ivan turned to a guard. “Excuse me, could you clear the entryway? I wish to discuss something with my subordinates in private.” The guard nodded and within moments, the room was emptied. Ivan took off his glasses and handed them to Tyrell.

            “Calvin. Explain yourself.” Calvin shrugged. “I did my job and I should get paid for it.”

            “You disobeyed my orders.” Ivan began to raise his voice. “But I won.” Calvin matched his volume. “Do not raise your voice at me, soldier.” Ivan was yelling now. His face turned alive with magic and emotion. Calvin’s face turned red with rage. “You were only supposed to survey the situation and report back.”

            “Are you chiding me for defending a city?” Ivan pointed at Calvin. “I’m chiding you for acting foolishly. You could have died.” Calvin leaned forward to talk to Ivan’s face. “I. Cannot. Lose.”

            “Only a fool would say that.”

            “I defeated an entire unit of Dragoons.” Calvin said. “Even if you wasted an entire army, I would still be angry.” Ivan’s magic began to fill the room. The glow was so intense that Calvin had to back away. “You have brought us into this mess, Calvin.”

            “This is a war! This is what we thrive on.” Tyrell took his turn to interject. “Enough Calvin! War is not what we thrive on, it is what we survive on. I hate war,” Tyrell shook his head, “Now I sound like Norton. But it is true.”

            “I don’t want to hear that from you, Necromancer!” Before Calvin could register the mistake he had made, Tyrell flared both his magics. A blinding mix of green and sky blue lights illuminated the room and drowned out Ivan’s aura. As swiftly as the lights had arrived they vanished. Tyrell took a deep breath and turned. “I’ve nothing more to say to you.” Tyrell said. Ivan sighed and placed his hand on his head. “Let’s go before the guards get worried.” Ivan marched down the steps leading to the city. Calvin glared at the back of Tyrell’s head. “Ty…”

            “Let’s go, Calvin.”

            “But Tyrell – “

            “I am leaving.” Tyrell followed the commander down the steps. Calvin clenched his fists. All the while, the voice in the back of his head kept echoing. “Harbinger, you are made to rule over them. Go and embrace your fate!” Calvin felt his anger and sorrow mix into hatred for Ivan. He let out a curse as the guards told him to leave. The steps down to the city had not felt this lonely before to him.