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Chapter Two:
Let’s End This With A Bang!
Upon hearing these words, Jri froze. To say that he was frightened was quite the understatement. Jri wasn’t just frightened: he was horrified. He had been clutching his fists with pain, but now they were clutched with fear. Alarm flickered across his features, mixing with his shock of Heller’s death and pain from his injury, which had reopened and was slowly staining the grass red.
The other members of the group weren’t as concerned. They remained seemingly calm, but anyone in the area would have felt the tension in the air, it was that thick. The trees shading them from view waved their limbs uneasily in the soft wind, and naught was heard but the shouted commands of leaders and the rustling as the soldiers searched for the escapees. Tylith noted to himself that, although their situation was a bad one, they would have plenty of warning for when their hiding spot was next exposed
“Sir, why don’t we just leave here?” A shriveled man asked. He had thin, gray hair that did little to cover his wrinkly head. Large eyebrows, also gray, were positioned above brown eyes, and an almost abnormally ample nose. Half his teeth were either rotted or gone, and the other half stuck out unevenly from his mouth. Tylith regarded the man with distaste, and half wished that he would do something to spruce up his appearance. But the man was good at what he did, and Tylith couldn’t afford to alienate him.
“Jri is injured. He’d leave behind a path of blood that they could follow, Liev.”
“We don’t need to take him. Deadweight, the boy is; doesn’t even look as if he could handle a dagger. The guards would have something that would distract them while we make out get away.”
Tylith froze and slowly turned towards the speaker. “Jri is my friend. I will not leave a friend behind.” Deadly calm laced his words.
The man snorted, and turned away, mumbling something that sounded like an insult.
With reflexes honed by anger, he shot out a sword, stopping it as it reached Liev’s neck. “I’m sorry. I must be getting hard of hearing as I age. I didn’t quite catch what you said.” He pressed the blade harder into the soft flesh, watching as teardrops of blood leaked slowly from the opening. Liev stared at the man with fury, his mouth remaining stubbornly closed. The staring match continued for barely a second, ending when Duke suddenly snatched the blade deftly from Tylith’s hand.
“We have plenty of enemies without you two arguing.” He spoke in a deep voice, returning the blade to Tylith. “We will not leave behind Jri. Even if we did, we wouldn’t be quiet enough with our escape. And they have plenty of men to send after us.” This he spoke to both of them. Then he turned to Liev, his next words for the man only. “Do not dishonor the dead by speaking that way.” Tylith heard these words, fierce and firm, but heard something else that shocked him. Guilt? He fell silent, trying to imagine what a man like Duke would feel guilty about.
“Okay, grand leader.” A hint of sarcasm was within those last words. “What are we to do, crippled as we are?”
Tylith caught the jab aimed at his friend. Tylith’s anger got the best of him, and he was soon at the man’s throat. He watched with satisfaction as his eyes widened with terror, and then he was strangling the rude halfwit with his rough palms. He felt the vibrations beneath his fingers as a struggling cry crawled from Liev’s lips. Then a strong person gripped his shoulder and tore him ungracefully from the other man. Tylith looked up with contempt at Duke for ruining his chance to get rid of the insolent scum while he could. He quailed when he noticed the anger in Duke’s eyes.
“They know where we are.” The words were barely a whisper, yet everyone seemed to hear it. They also heard the footsteps getting closer to the small clearing, and the excited voices of the soldiers who had found the rebels.
“Are you pleased with yourself now, Master?” Liev mutter sadistically, “Your wonderful leadership skills managed to get us caught.”
Tylith shot a death glare at Liev, but no more than that. It seemed this strained alliance was ruined.
The entire group, with the exception of Jri who was still lying where he had been put, watched the approaching soldiers, ignoring the mosquitoes that bit eagerly into their skin.
And then the air was filled with flying arrows and the sound of swishing swords. One of the guards screamed as a figure cut him into slices. With the help of magic, blood spurted from one man’s eyes and mouth, and he was too frightened and disgusted to make a noise. Eventually he paled and toppled to the ground. Soon Tylith saw what was happening.
“We appear to have friends in unknown places.” He smirked and dove into the open, swinging his sword with abandon. Duke and the other rebels soon followed him. The only ones who stayed behind were Jri and Liev, Jri too hurt to move, and Liev for reasons known only to himself.
“Hermia!” Tylith called, making his way towards the scraggly woman who had stated their need for Heller’s help. “I think this group may have a Wizard among them. They can help with the explosives.”
Hermia was silent as she skillfully avoided attacks directed towards her. “Yes. Yes, I think I’ll do that. We need to frighten these endless enemies somehow.” She flashed a smile at him, and ran off to the man who appeared to lead the group.
Tylith watched her go, but then realized that wasn’t so smart, and threw himself at the next attacker. As his bloodied blade parried a blow from the guard, he allowed a growing smirk to cross his lips. “We may yet have a chance...”
And then Ashen saw it.
The rotted skull thrust into the tree trunk gazed at him with a macabre stared, smiling at his fear. He looked around at the place with new eyes, knowing that he was standing in a place of intense evil.
Dead Man’s Tree was quite recent, only being made around eight years ago. It was chilling to many of how it came to be. A merchant caravan, owned and led by Ava’s father, had been driving through this forest to speed the delivery of goods. Ava’s father usually didn’t accompany his wagons, but the disappearance of many cargo and crew finally convinced him otherwise, and he had set off with the train along with its usual crew. It was when he had reached the forest, the exact spot where Ashen was standing that it happened.
No one knew what exactly happened, but many agreed that it wasn’t a human that had done it. When the guards sent by Ava’s mother to search for the missing group found them, they saw a grisly scene. Unlike most of the wagons and people, who had disappeared without a trace, they found several bodies strewn on the ground with claw marks ripping through their bodies. Most had died with horrified expressions on their face.
But the most frightening thing was what had happened to Ava’s father.
His corpse was found crumpled in the bushes, a sword held limply in his fist. Large marks were also on his body, but the thing that separated him from his men was one small thing: he was decapitated.
The searchers found his head embedded snuggly into a tree trunk. They tried to carefully pry the head from the trunk, but it had been thrown in so hard that it remained stuck. They finally gave up, and the face was left there to rot into a skull, and the tree had been called Dead Man’s Tree. Ashen had heard of the story, but never seen the skull.
Until now.
He backed away, shaking with fright, and fell on his back. His eyes widened with horror as the skull trembled on its perch, then pitched forward, rolling towards him. He gave a shout as he saw the crumbling jawbones move, and a booming voice sounded from all around him. “Beware the beast who hides among men.” He slammed his hands over his ears to block out the loud noise, but his ears still pounded from the echoes. Then all around him went dark, and all he heard was a synchronized beating.
Ashen awoke in the dark with a start. His heart raced in his chest, and he found that his hands were lying near his ears. The dream he could remember just barely, and already it was fading away. He mentally grasped at the fleeing memories, but was unable to reach them. Soon all that was left was the leering skull, and the beating from the end.
Sitting up with a shock, Ashen realized that the stomps hadn’t been from his dream. It was real, and from the volume, it seemed that a large company of guards (no one traveled in large groups besides guards) were going somewhere. But where was that?
That question was soon answered for him as dozens of guards swarmed down the alleyway he had been sleeping. Fearing that the guards were finally getting serious about his sticky fingers, Ashen bolted upwards to run for it, but it was too late. The only exit was blocked by a mass of bodies, and there were no handholds within his reach. He inhaled deeply, than turned to face the group.
“Peasant, you are under arrest for treason.” The words echoed in his head as his wrists were seized and sharply wound with rope.
“Not just any explosives.” Hermia explained with a hint of annoyance. “Magic explosives. But I can’t set them off alone. And it looks like you have a wizard with you.” She nodded towards one of the guards that had begun to sprout blood from underneath his fingertips. She grimaced at the abuse of magic, but she could let it slide as long as the caster was skilled enough.
“So you need magical help.” A cruel smile revealed rotted teeth in his mouth. “What are you willing to offer for it?”
Hermia was losing her temper. Didn’t this man see that they all depended on the charges detonating? And yet he was the one that was demanding pay. “Oh, I’m willing to offer a lot. If you think your life is worth much.”
To her surprise, he laughed, “Very well, we’ll spare our wizard for nothing. Koki.”
A slightly plump man scurried up to him. “Yes?”
“Help these, ah, good folk trigger their explosives, will you?”
“Certainly.” He turned toward Hermia. “What do you need help with?”
“Channel your magic through me. It’ll be easier than explaining to you.” She held out her hand expectantly.
After giving the hand a thorough examination, he lightly held it, saying a small, “Very well.” After feeling the flow of magic run through her hand into her mind, she closed her eyes in concentration.
And directed it all towards three miniscule pieces of “harmless” metal latched onto the wall of the camp.
“Treason? I’m just a kid. I think your heads are getting overheated in the sun.” He scoffed at the soldiers. All he got in reply was an unfriendly slap on the face.
“Never speak like that again.” Was the shouted order, and flecks of spit flew onto Ashen’s face. He flinched with each drop that landed on him.
At the end of this pleasant exchange, he was marched through the narrow streets. He could see the flicker of a curtain, could sense the curious shadows that followed him. He was silent as he considered what had happened. Treason? Unless stealing many times was treason, there was no reason that he should be arrested. But...was it possible that he was framed? He chuckled to himself with that thought. Who would frame him? With the way the empire acted, he could be getting arrested just for living on the streets!
Ashen looked up and saw the castle in the center of Kliro rising above him. It was amazing how quickly they had gotten there. Then again, there was no crowd flowing in the opposite direction to slow their progress. He knew that if he went through the gated entry to the Front Garden, he wouldn’t see daylight for a long time. And he wasn’t prepared for that.
Neither was he prepared for the explosion as one of the many towers on the castle disappeared with a loud bang into smoke.
A few seconds passed as everyone in the band absorbed what had happened. It seemed to be completely silent at this time, with no wind blowing softly, or animals scuffing, or the sound of street people snoring. All was peaceful
Then the chaos broke out.
People everywhere began screaming. Some ran out their doors towards the castle to see what caused this, while others leaned out their windows, babbling excitedly at the smoke rising from the castle. The guards remained disciplined, but the look in their eyes suggested their true feelings.
With all of this, Ashen was able to slip off into the maze of streets.
Jri heard the earsplitting noise as half the camp was blown to bits, heard the crumbling of bricks as they suddenly found themselves without support. He felt the tremor in the air, the vibration of the ground, and the waves of heat rolling away from the center of the explosion. His teeth chattered with the force of the blow, and his wound began throbbing harder because of the disturbance.
The explosion had good affects too. The remains of the archers were seen flying through the air as great balls of fire, and the ground soldiers were thrown off balance by the sudden shaking and by their own surprise. Many ran off into the woods in fear, while others lurched unsteadily towards the direction of the fort, not that they could see its location in the thick smoke. Others were injured or killed by the two groups fighting them. Soon, there remained barely anyone to attack them.
Tylith didn’t allow his shoulders to slump with relief, still expecting something to come hurtling out of the camp, and he turned towards the other group’s leader to express his thanks.
Only to find a sword pointed at his throat.
“Dear God...” Ava choked out. Who would do such a thing? Without even considering the consequences, she sprinted out the door into the large street.
The place was as crowded and loud as it was during the daytime. Younger children that had woken up because of the noise were wailing, their cries for their mothers heard from outside. Parents desperately tried herding their amazed children inside, but their offspring remained unmoving, pointing with horror at the billowing smoke and babbling amongst themselves. Teenage friends huddled together in groups made of their friends, already conversing about who did it and why.
Ava ignored all this mess, weaving her way through the mob to get to her friends. As she began taking more and more shortcuts and back roads, the distant noise began fading. Already the plume of smoke was beginning to disperse; yet she still went as fast as she could. As she used her strength, she began to go slower and slower, her speed eventually petering out to a fast walk. She gave a weak cry of relief as she noticed the familiar alleyway that Ashen, Jamay, Micen, and she called home.
Her glee was short-lived when she discovered it was empty.
“Simple. We don’t trust you.” The backstabber answered, his blade nearly pricking Tylith’s skin.
“Then why did you help us?” Rage was roaring in his head, but was barely restrained by Tylith’s stubbornness.
“I always enjoy a fight. Now,” The man tapped his chin with his right hand, letting everyone know that he was thinking. “Order your men to come quietly. I doubt they’ll listen to me.”
Tylith held the man’s stare while he spoke. “Do what he says.”
“Wise decision. Koki, bind them with magic.”
The sword was finally taken from his throat just as invisible ropes wrapped around him, forcing his arms to his side. He along with the rest of the group, were then escorted away from the camp.
And from the bushes, Liev watched this all.
Indeed Ava did come. Her rented room’s door was also slammed open, and a frantic-looking Ava came in.
Raising her eyebrow, Talia muttered coldly, “It’s only a castle...”
Ava turned her tear-stained face towards her. “I-I can’t find Ashen.”
“Who?”
“Ashen!! He was at the shop earlier, you talked to him!”
Talia shrugged, but she recalled the boy that had been sent to help her. She didn’t get what the big deal was. But this Ashen must’ve been important enough to Ava to make her this upset.
“What happened.” She asked with boredom.
Ava sniffed, then looked up. She began her story.
