"Chosen 3''
by;fernand jiro
As often said by Roku Bensin, master storycrafter and play artisan
It started the day after General Tizmak’s betrayal, a silent war to defeat an enemy whose identity was masked with brotherly allegiance and secrecy. One by one, guards were brought into the throne room to be searched for the tattoo that revealed allegiance to the Taige. If a tattoo was indeed found then the traitor was subdued and silently taken away. Those that were found to still be loyal were sworn to secrecy about the meeting and returned to their duties.
A disturbing pattern emerged through the investigations. A surprisingly small number of guards and servants were discovered to be Taige agents. Their placement within the palace, however, made them decisively dangerous. Many were high-ranking guards or servants with intimate access to the queen and princess. Two of the agents were servant girls whose duties were recently changed to center on the princess and her room. Had they been given a signal then Mayla would have been defenseless.
Inside the throne room the last person to be inspected was brought in. The guard, a middle-aged man with ragged light brown hair named Ricis Kappan, looked around nervously as he walked through the wooden doors. A shy and quiet man normally, Kappan had earned a reputation for pushing himself harder than the rest to be the best he could. When he saw the queen was nowhere in sight the color of his check faded. There was only Pallan standing before the throne, her gray eyes bearing down hard on the short man whom she once believed to be one of the most talented and trusted guards within the palace. Of course, she had thought that about a few others as well before the mark was found on their arms.
“Kappan, come here,” commanded Pallan in a harsh voice, pointing to a spot close enough to study him but far enough away to react to any danger he may pose.
Kappan stepped forward to where he was ordered and bowed to Pallan. “Sir? May I ask…”
“No, you may not,” Pallan interrupted sharply. “You will do nothing but stand there and speak only when spoken too. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” replied Kappan in a demure voice, unsure of what was happening.
“Remove your armor and shirt,” commanded Pallan.
Sir?” asked Kappan, looking around warily and unsure of what was going on.
“Do it!” commanded Pallan.
With a slight jump, Kappan started to slowly strip his armor. Pallan’s eyes followed every movement with careful, unflinching precision. The resounding echo of Kappan’s armor dropping on the stone floor did nothing to phase her posture and fierce stare. As he pulled his shirt off the tattoo of the Taige came into clear view on his left arm.
Pallan’s eyes narrowed as her tempered flared. “Venomous traitor,” she muttered.
Kappan looked to Pallan with confused eyes. “Sir?”
“You have betrayed the Crown,” growled Pallan. With a look of shock and horror at first blanketing his face, Kappan looked to the tattoo on his left arm. Pallan continued, “We have your fellow conspirators in custody, including the former General Tizmak.”
A soft, dark chuckle began to rise up through the room. It echoed from all directions off the stone pillars and walls as it slowly turned into a deep, bellowing laugh. Pallan faltered backward a step, instinctively reaching for the sword to her side. Her eyes widened with a flash of anger at the contemptuous nature that Kappan suddenly developed. The once respected guard held his head low, not in shame but in contempt. Pallan could very easily see a grin stretched across his face.
“Foolish Pallan. Very foolish,” he uttered in quite a different voice from his own.
Arching her eyebrow, Pallan responded, “How am I foolish? I am not the one with a death mark.” She drew her sword and pointed it to Kappan’s left arm. “Now place your hands behind your head and you may end up keeping it.” With a small grin of pleasure she added, “For a little longer, at least.”
Kappan looked up, staring deeply into Pallan’s eyes. For an instant she felt a fear unlike any she had ever known, deep and cold within her soul. It seemed as though the room grew dimmer with a chilling bite in the air. Shadows seemed to come alive and move out of the corner of her eyes, never allowing themselves to be seen. Pallan fought hard against the feelings welling up inside and held strong to her will. A small twinkle of pleasure glimmered in Kappan’s eyes as he saw his former commanding officer stand before him, armed and ready to kill.
“Oh…but my head is of no concern to you, Minstrel D’Lude.” Shock coursed through Pallan’s body, every muscle tensed and became like stone. “Oh yes, Minstrel D’Lude, my future is of no concern when compared to your past.”
“Wh…what…?” stuttered Pallan.
“Your entertainer’s name, correct? And who better to protect the King than his former personal wench? Opps…I mean concubine.” Kappan grinned. “You remember the early days, don’t you?”
Pallan gripped the handle of her sword tightly, anger and fear swelling deep within her. “What you think you know about me is…”
Kappan interjected with grand gestures and a booming voice, “The high and mighty Pallan, Defender of the Jalstirian Crown, Guardian to the Royal Family, the Fierce Silver-Eyed Angel of the Sword. Aren’t all of these your titles? There seem to be some missing.” Kappan paused, mockingly pretending to think. “How about Sultry Slut or Harmonious Whore? I have heard that your voice attracted many a man…and your screams made them come back for more!”
“Silence!” shouted Pallan, wanting to rush forward and slice his throat but unable to move.
“We know all about you,” continued Kappan, still staring deep into Pallan’s eyes. “Oh it was a grand fable that was woven about you and the queen…but we know the truth.”
Pallan forced herself into control of her body. “And…just what…do you know?” Her sword tip pointed to Kappan’s neck, eager to taste his blood yet shaking uneasily, unable to act.
“We know plenty about you,” confessed Kappan. “Who would be interested in such news, hmm? The King? Oh…he’s dead, that’s right, but then he was the one that weaved such a fanciful tale, wasn’t he? What about the Queen? No…she knows all to well the world you come from.” The sting of his words pierced Pallan deeply as she restrained from lunging forward and slicing through his stomach. Oddly her restraint felt foreign, as if someone else was causing her immobility. “But the people?” Kappan continued, “Ah…now that might be an idea!” His gestures were almost comical in their nature, grand and bold to accent his words.
Within the shadows Caslian stood listening to the conversation that had been exchanged between Pallan and Kappan. His brow was furrowed and his senses were sharp, trying to understand why both of them stopped speaking. A low murmur had filled his ears moments before, a distraction…an annoyance. Great restraint was required to keep from screaming out and ending it. He closed his eyes tightly, focusing hard to the center of his being. Suddenly the murmur was gone, leaving one lingering thought in his mind.
“Traitor,” he murmured to himself, a slight mischievous grin slipping across his face. He could not argue with the truth. The sound of a constant droning coming from Kappan brought Caslian’s attention back to where it was needed. He listened carefully, fully realizing the severity of the situation. “This does not bode well,” he thought, rubbing his left arm. His eyes focused on Pallan and the cold sweat that dripped down her forehead. “She cannot handle this much longer.” He pulled a throwing dagger out from his robe, a bright gleam caught from the sunlight flashing in his eye for an instant. Inverting it to feel the cool metal of the blade in his palm, Caslian took aim and clenched his fist. Blood oozed through his fingers as the familiar bite of pain cleansed his thoughts, made him focus on his objective.
“We shall succeed,” stated Kappan. “You cannot stop us!”
Caslian stepped from the shadows and let his dagger take flight, piercing Kappan’s left arm deeply. With a loud, unearthly scream the guard fell to the ground. He lay there, completely still and whimpering softly. Pallan’s sword arm dropped to her side, her trance-like state disappearing.
“What…what happened?” she asked as she looked around the room with a confused look blanketing her face.
Caslian approached Kappan as he lay on the floor, curled into a tight ball. “I believe the Taige is aware of our plans. We will have to move quickly.”
Pallan looked to Kappan. “I…”
“You should be honored,” continued Caslian. “It is not often that the force of the Taige speaks through one of its pawns.”
“The force?” asked Pallan, slowly regaining control of her senses and willpower.
“That is the only word I can use to describe it,” he said ominously, lifting his robe sleeve to expose his own tattoo. “This is why each member has this marking. We are branded.”
Pallan lowered her head slightly, closing her eyes in shame. “Did you hear what he said?”
Caslian arched his eyebrow. “He said nothing. It must have happened within your mind.”
“What?” asked Pallan, surprised and relieved all at once.
“The force of behind the Taige. It created an illusion to deceive you.” Caslian bent down to lift Kappan up by grabbing behind his neck. “This pathetic thing was just an instrument to expose you to its influence. Nothing more. He knows nothing of what just happened.”
Pallan arched her eyebrow. “And you do?”
“Those in the Taige are not mindless puppets,” replied Caslian, his voice growing darker. “Each person has a will of their own but all are influenced by the force behind the Taige. It is a seductive force. One that draws people in with promises of power, money…whatever is wanted.” He looked to the barely conscious Kappan in his arms. “During rare occasions it will take control of those with lesser wills to act out a specific goal. It is during these occasions that those with these markings consciously feel the force.” Looking back to Pallan he added, “As I said…you should feel honored.”
“What…drew you to them then?” asked Pallan, fully in control again and wary of the help Caslian offered.
“I never want,” replied Caslian. “I only need. They sought me out for my skills. I joined because they offered employment. The tattoo was required. I felt it, heard it, and at times I believe I may have even seen it. But never was I controlled. I did what I did for them because it is what I do.”
“Then why turn on them?” asked Pallan.
“I have my reasons,” replied the assassin, turning to take the now fully unconscious Kappan away.
Pallan furrowed her brow. “I will be watching you.”
Caslian paused and looked back to Pallan. “I would be concerned if you did not,” he replied. He continued to walk on, exiting the throne room with the last of the traitors in the castle in tow.
Pallan sheathed her sword and closed her eyes. “High Father help us,” she whispered.
A small creak emanated from the shadows, forcing Pallan back to a state of alert for a brief moment. She relaxed, however, when she realized that the door to the small side chamber had opened and Queen Laye, with Imogene, were returning to the throne room. Imogene stopped as she entered the light, looking around as if she heard something. Her eyes narrowed and ears twitched as she scrutinized every detail in the room. Suddenly she focused on Pallan intently, examining her thoroughly.
“It was here,” she stated flatly.
Queen Laye turned to Imogene with a puzzled look. “What was?” she asked.
Pallan stepped forward to them to speak about what had just happened. Imogene quickly stepped between the two of them before anyone could say another word, guarding the queen. Her robe flung back and her hands hovered near the twin axes. “Step no further,” she commanded.
“Please,” interjected Queen Laye. “Pallan is my most trusted advisor and friend.”
“Explain the stench,” Imogene said coolly, sniffing the air lightly. “It bathes you like a mother bathes her child.”
“What stench?” asked Queen Laye, anxiety permeating her voice.
“Sweet. Intoxicating. Perfumed. A stench that accompanies all who are touched by the Taige,” replied Imogene. “Why does it now cling to you so?”
Pallan lowered her head, images of the incident she underwent and the memories that it brought up racing through her mind. “The last person we interrogated, Ricis Kappan, was also found to be a Taige agent. When I confronted him about it…something happened. I cannot explain it, your Highness. Caslian was able to stop it before…”
Imogene pulled her robe back around her and bowed gracefully, speaking while in her humbled position. “Forgiveness, Guardian D’Lude.” Both Queen Laye and Pallan looked to Imogene with confusion. “No one can truly fathom the experience you have encountered. Nor could we mourn enough for the tragedy that would have occurred had not the one known as Caslian stopped it.”
Queen Laye stood stunned at Imogene’s words. “Is that why you suggested only he and Pallan be in the room?” she asked.
Imogene rose and nodded smoothly. “And, I suspect, that is why he agreed. We have believed for some time that there was something greater behind the Taige.” She turned to face the queen. “This is why I offer you the service of my people.”
“What?” asked Pallan. “But…”
“Would that be a problem?” asked Imogene, turning her head to face Pallan. “There were those in the palace that followed the will of the Taige. Is it an impossible task to believe that there may be those in the military as well? The nobles? Merchant class?”
“Without meaning to offend,” replied Pallan, “But if we employ…your people we may be enticing those who are not part of the Taige to take part in a revolt against us.”
Imogene nodded again in agreement. “You are correct, Guardian D’Lude.” Pallan twitched slightly at the unusual title that Imogene had decided to use to address her. “Which is why only a small number will be sent into the queen’s service.”
Curiosity getting the better of her, Pallan asked, “What do you mean by ‘small’?”
Imogene thought for a moment. “No more than twenty.”
“Twenty?” Pallan thought. “What could be done with only twenty people?”
As if she knew what Pallan was thinking, Imogene added, “But it is highly improbably that such an extravagant force would be necessary. No more than five would be needed to guard the palace while ten at most would be more than enough to stand against any army that the Taige may field against us.”
Both Pallan and Queen Laye stood in shock. An average sized army fielded by a lordship or statehood had within its ranks a thousand men or more. The queen and guard looked to the mysterious woman, awe and a small pang of horror suddenly welled up in them. She nodded to them to acknowledge their fears.
“Only…ten?” asked Pallan softly.
Imogene turned to Queen Laye, slowly as to not alarm her. “Contrary to the common belief among the general populous, we are not demons.”
Queen Laye composed herself as best as she could. “Yes, I understand. My husband and I know that your people have an inherently peaceful society that is merely misunderstood because of your…abilities.”
It was a misconception that had existed since the end of the Age of Strife. Throughout history those that have had capabilities similar to Imogene’s have been under close scrutiny because of the extreme destruction that they had wrought during the years of war. Clan Roaz, or the cursed as they became known, unleashed maelstroms of untold power in that early time that branded them with a stigma that was not easily removed. Though recent laws prohibited active violence against them, occasionally some people took matters into their own hands when the opportunity arose to rid the world of a member of Clan Roaz. They almost always failed.
“We are as loyal as we are peaceful, your Highness,” replied Imogene. “Though we are capable of a great many disasters we know that is not our purpose in this life. It is our deepest wish that our presence will deter attacks against the palace so that you and those loyal to you can defeat the Taige. If you should call on them, however, they shall take up arms without question.”
“I mean no disrespect,” interjected Pallan, “but why?”
Imogene’s eyes gazed into empty space as she answered Pallan. “Its presence appalls us. We do not know why but it is an unnatural presence in this world. It was decided after many years of prayer and meditation that we had to stop it as we saw its influence within the governments and people grow deeper and stronger.” She again turned to the queen and knelt down before her. “I speak for my people when I say that we hereby pledge our allegiance to you and will aid you in any way we can.”
Queen Laye touched Imogene’s shoulder and motioned for her to rise. “I am honored by your actions. I, too, pledge that we shall stop the Taige. Together.” She extended her hand to Imogene, who took it gracefully.
* * * * * * *
Soon the war spread through the city of Hyllro. Caslian provided information for the larger established hideouts and control centers for the palace militia to raid and from the captured members the locations of the other hiding places were revealed. Even though Caslian warned it would not help, blockades were established at each road to ensure the raids were kept silent to the rest of the kingdom.
Within three days those that Imogene spoke of, the defenders from Clan Roaz, arrived and were given their instructions. Serving in a purely defensive role, they silently replaced the palace guards in all matters. This allowed the guards to be moved out into the city to take control of patrols and raiding parties without causing suspicion among the ranks.
During this time a quiet, private funeral was held for Kalben Jerroni. Mornic Kaliste oversaw the preparations for the silent, respectful memorial of a fallen follower of the High Father. Due to the nature of the circumstances concerning his death a small collection of the Church’s leaders gathered to nominate a new archpriest to guide them past the tragedy. A quiet ceremony occurred within five days of the assassination to bestow the title of archpriest to a tall, unassuming man named Cicain Duirven, who immediately began to take the reigns and lead the Church through the tough days that followed.
In his room, oblivious to the grand events happening around him, Raleigh looked over his belongings. The expedition was still a few days away from sailing off into the great unknown but the excitement had overwhelmed him. He had packed and repacked, continually analyzing what would be best to take with him and what he should leave behind. Having never been to far outside of the city Raleigh had no idea how to pack for a journey. He wished he could talk to Mornic about it but there was no time with the priest’s busy schedule the past few days.
“I wonder what Mornic has been doing these past few days,” he thought to himself. “I hope I can talk to him soon.” He looked over he latest attempt to pack. “I never realized this would be so difficult.” Clothes, books, and the few personal effects filled three large bags that would have been difficult for Raleigh to carry by himself. He knew that he should not have that much but sometimes when visitors stayed at the Academy they brought more things. Confusion clouding his mind, Raleigh unpacked everything and started again, trying to prioritize what was needed for the trip.
His mind wandered to what they might find on the journey. Stories, legends, and folklore filled his head with fanciful ideas. Vivid images of sea monsters held a prominent place in his thoughts. Raleigh wondered if whatever ship they were supposed to travel on could actually fend off one of the great beasts of the sea. Thoughts of pirates, ghost ships, and other such dangers from the oceans also occupied his mind. Fear never occurred to him. The might of Jalstiria’s navy and the blessing of the High Father would ensure that the expedition would be a success.
Raleigh paused for a moment, thinking back to the banquet. “I hope she is all right,” he murmured to himself.
There was a sudden, booming series of knocks at the door that startled Raleigh. He was not expecting anyone nor did he receive many visits from the other students at the Academy. Curiosity slowly won over after a second series of knocks echoed through the room and Raleigh made his way to the door to open it.
As soon as the locks were undone palace guards pushed through and flowed into the room. Raleigh’s eyes widened with fear, worried that he might have done something to upset the queen or her daughter. Before he could say a word, however, a dark figure stepped through the doorway and looked around. The sunlight from his window bathed the mysterious figure, accentuating the shadows that seemed to cling to his body. His deep blue eyes shown through, however, scanning everything in great depth for what seemed like forever to Raleigh. He dared not move or speak for fear of upsetting the man before him.
In a course voice the man asked, “Are you the young lad that saved the princess?” Raleigh swallowed hard and nodded, still unable to speak. The man continued, “My name is Citro and I have come to escort you to the palace.”
“I…have I done something wrong, sir?” asked Raleigh.
Citro looked to the guards around the room through fierce eyes. “Did no one send word that we were coming?”
“We were told that Sir Kaliste informed the boy of his involvement with the expedition,” replied one of the guards.
Raleigh relaxed visibly, letting go of the large breath of air he held in his lungs. “I…I am sorry for not being ready. No one said that I would be picked up today.”
“Then what is that?” asked Citro, pointing to the bags on the bed.
“Oh, I was…just trying to be prepared. It…is my first time out of the city and I was not sure what to bring or how much of it would be appropriate.” Raleigh’s cheeks became flushed with red as he realized his ignorance was blatantly apparent to these life-seasoned men. “My sincerest apologies,” continued Raleigh with a lowered head. “I will finish my packing here as fast as I can.”
Citro nodded and motioned to the guards to leave. They filed out as fast as they entered, leaving Raleigh and Citro standing facing each other. He turned halfway to the door before stopping to say, “Take essentials, lad. Only a few clothes at best and whatever you feel would be suited for such a journey. Personal items are a waste of space.”
Raleigh looked up and nodded. “Tha…thank you, sir. I will hurry.”
“Do that,” replied Citro before turning the rest of the way to walk out the door.
Raleigh looked back to his bed. In an instant he knew what he needed and what could stay behind. He immediately hurried through his packing, focused on the start of his grand journey. A smile slowly crossed his lips with the thought of adventure, which slowly turned into a bashful grin as he realized he would be in the palace until the voyage, near the princess. He quickly remembered what needed to be done, however.
“I hope she is all right,” he repeated to himself.
* * * * * * *
In her room at the palace, out on the balcony, Mayla sat peacefully in a moment of contentment for the first time in days. The sun shone down, warming her body and soothing her soul. She looked down into the courtyard to see the flowers in full bloom, highlighting the scene below in a wondrous array of color. Their fragrances floated in the air, lightly tickling her nose. A soft smile slowly spread across her lips as she let out a sigh of peace.
“How are you feeling, Mayla?”
The princess turned to see Pallan, her guardian and friend, standing near by with a gentle look in her eyes. Mayla looked back outside and stared for a moment before saying, “I am feeling…content.” Pallan smiled and lightly touched the princess’s shoulder, adding a small squeeze for comfort. “Thank you,” added Mayla. Both ladies gazed out of the window, taking in the soothing sites and sounds of the day.
The sound of clashing metal brought them both from their idle stupor. Down in the courtyard were Daegan and Squill sparring in the middle of a small crowd of palace servants. Their movements were almost blinding as metal flashed and flesh blurred in the deadly dance they performed before the crowd. Mayla gazed in awe.
“Who are those two?” she asked Pallan.
“Daegan Ralth and Squill Perfon,” she replied. “They are tournament fighters, the best from what I hear. Your mother felt that they might be of some help on the expedition.”
Mayla crooked her head. “What expedition?” she asked.
“There was a strange ship sighted on the horizon well past the safety boarders several days ago,” stated Pallan. “An expedition is being sent out to see if there is a possibility of life beyond the waters.”
“And they are going with them?”
“Yes,” answered Pallan. “From what I hear Daegan is the better of the two. Now that I see them I believe it.”
Mayla detected a hint of awe in Pallan’s voice. “Are they…better than you?” she asked.
Pallan chuckled. “I am a woman of many talents, Mayla. I can use a sword quite well, better than most I might add, but I do not live by the sword as those two do.”
“So…they are really good then?” Mayla asked.
Pallan put her arm around the princess. “They are the best I have seen, Mayla.”
Another loud clash of metal echoed throughout the courtyard followed by the grunts of the two warriors fully engaged in their craft. Their faces held passion and purpose, concentration and calm all at once as they vied for victory over the other. The onlookers from all around gawked in stunned awe. All but the two fighters believed this to be a spectacular contest of strength and skill that had not been rivaled since the days of The Forge.
After one last spurt of blazing attacks the warriors broke off the fight and nodded to each other as an explosion of applause and cheers drew forth. Daegan turned to the fans and gave a shallow bow, a cocky smile etched into his face. Squill panted hard as he thanked those around him for the comments and compliments, occasionally glancing back and forth between them and Daegan, wondering how they will act after what will surely happen next.
As if he knew what Squill was thinking, Daegan turned to him with a look of pure joy in his eye. He always enjoyed the praise and adoration of those around him. With a dramatic move of his ornate two-handed sword, Daegan swung it around and thrust it into the ground. All eyes turned to him with refilled awe and wonder as to what the mighty fighter was planning next. Squill, only now catching his breath from the previous fight, knew exactly what was next.
“Now that the warm up is over, Squill, are you ready for a real fight?” he asked, a mischievous smirk slowly creeping to one side of his face.
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