The Spirit of Revenge (18 page)

With that, he turned from them and retreated behind the closing gate of Abraxas, slamming the doors shut behind him.

“You ever get the feeling we’re being used?” Silas asked his friends as they reined their horses forward.

Cain looked at him and laughed, “Not even the slightest.”

They rode across the bridge and came out into the crater. The fog hung thick about them. They rode through the mists and began picking their way across the loose shale rock.

Around their horses’ feet, bodies split the chill mists, dead eyes gazing up at them. Blood caked dry on the earth and the reek of it all tore at their lungs.

Ghoulish hands reached for them through the mists. The eyes of thousands of Arzecs pierced the veil, as if each were a torch emblazoned in dismal forgot. The silence hung like a millstone in the winter’s morn as if the land itself conveyed its sorrow for so great a loss as this.

“Shit,” Aaron muttered as his horse stepped on the body of an Arzec. Bones snapped and punctured out of its rotting flesh, spewing forth a stream of bloody pus. They weaved through the thousands of bodies, blood squelching beneath their horses. Carrion fowls flew about them, fleeting shadows amid the fog. Several vultures flew over their heads and cawed angrily as they sped by, soon disappearing in the mist profound.

The crater wall appeared through the fog and the Warriors forced their mounts to a stop. Their horses reluctantly halted and their riders led them carefully up the steep slope. They eventually reached the top of the crater and glanced around anxiously.

An impenetrable wall of ivory surrounded them, blocking out their vision entirely.

As they urged their horses into the mist, a cry broke out behind them. They turned around to see someone tearing through the fog.

The mist swirled and Adriel sprinted out of its grasp, panting with exertion. She leaned heavily against Cain’s horse, struggling to catch her breath.

“You’re going to leave without saying goodbye?” She eventually asked Cain.

He looked down at her, puzzled, yet fighting a smile. “You stormed off the other night; I assumed you didn’t want to come with us.”

“You assumed wrong then,” she replied, “you need me whether you realize it or not.” Cain smirked at this and glanced at Aaron.

“Someone please kill me,” he said as he reined his horse forward.

“I can help you with that, Aaron,” Silas called out to him.

“I was joking!” Aaron cried out in panic. Silas and Joshua rode into the fog after him, followed by several screams from Aaron.

“Besides,” Adriel said as she grabbed Cain’s outstretched hand and pulled herself into the saddle behind him, “What would the Warriors be without me?”

Cain shrugged at her and laughed, “Probably a lot better off.”

They continued riding throughout the day, leaving the volcanic earth of Abraxas behind them. Hundreds of hills now encircled them, barely indiscernible through the fog.

Streaks of ice rained down and was carried through the hills by a wind that clawed like frozen nails. A thin blanket of ice covered the grass at their feet and their horses’ hooves crunched loudly in the frost.

“Winter in Kaanos was never this bad,” Joshua muttered as he adjusted his cloak.

Adriel replied, “It’s always this bad. Many travelers die in our winters.”

“Good to know,” Joshua retorted.

They rode on for hours without track of time. The sun was somewhere behind the mists, but where they could never tell.

They continued ever east across the endless hills and fields of hoarfrost.

After hours of silent riding, Adriel broke its spell. “I know what you’re thinking,” she muttered in Cain’s ear.

“And what might that be?” He asked with raised brow.

“The others have followed you for years without question, but now you begin to question yourself. You have no idea where you are at right now, and I am willing to bet you’re hoping for a miracle to guide you so you don’t look like a fool. Am I right?”

Cain turned to look at her. “You’re never wrong.”

“I will not lead you astray,” she replied, “I have lived in Charun for many years and I know what is required to survive our winters.”

“How do you know the land so well? Most people never even leave the village they are born in.”

Adriel thought for a moment before replying, “I used to run away from home all the time when I lived with my father. To me it was better to starve in the wilderness than live with the likes of him. No one knows this land better than I, you are in good hands.”

Cain smiled. “I’m glad you came with us.” Adriel smiled back at him and the two fell quiet. They continued for hours without rest.

Evening came at last, dismal as the early morn. Ice swirled about the travelers, clinging to their wool cloaks and stinging against their skin. They rode on in deathly silence save the crunch of their horses’ hooves.

They guided their mounts around the outlines of hills, continuing into the night in a blind stupor. As the veiled skies filled with black and stars rose beyond its depths, the fog began to clear. Through the parting wisps of fog, the Warriors could clearly see the sky for the first time that day.

Thousands of stars flickered in the heavens, cradled in the soft embrace of clouds. The thin brim of a crescent moon hung overhead. Its pale light cast over the hills as far as they could see, gilding the earth in boundless silver.

Adriel gazed up at the night sky, her eyes filled with the glow of the moonlight.

“It’s beautiful…” She muttered in awe. “Look,” she pointed to a constellation in the skies, their lights brighter than that of any around them. “Seraphel.”

“Seraphel?” Cain asked.

“The brightest stars in our skies. Look, can you see her wings and sword?”

Cain squinted and searched the stars. “All I see are dots…”

Adriel sighed and shook her head. “She used to never show her face. They say if Seraphel shows herself, then those who seek her find heaven’s fortune when all else has abandoned them.”

Cain glanced over his shoulder at her. “Then let us hope those are more than just dots.”

Cain plunged his foot into the smoldering ashes of their campfire and stamped out the last of its embers. He pulled his boot from the smoke and looked around, wiping his eyes with exhaustion.

They were in the dried remains of a riverbed, towering cliff walls encompassing them. Fog clung to the valley like dew to the trees. Dawn’s azure light barely pierced the mist.

Cain could hear the breath leave his lips; see its warm vapors swirling before him. His heart beat loud against his ribs, a sounding drum in absolute silence.

He looked to a nearby tree and saw the others sleeping soundly encased in their cloaks. Joshua snored once again, astonishing Cain that he had ever managed to sleep through it. He walked over to his friends and shook them from their sleep.

They stood up and brushed their cloaks of ice. Cain tossed each of them a biscuit and some dried fruit from his saddlebag. They mounted their horses with little conversation, unwilling to leave behind the comfort of sleep for another day of riding.

They followed the riverbed for several hours. Eventually the valley walls spread forth and released them into a wall of mist. “This way,” Adriel said as she pointed to the right.

They guided their horses down a slender path that snaked its way down the side of a wooded knoll. The trail slowly leveled out and they tore their way through a bed of overgrowth. They noticed a large stone protruding from the earth before them.

“What’s this?” Cain asked Adriel as they approached it.

Large cracks wove along the face of the stone, distorting the once intricate carvings that covered it. Moss clung to the rock and flowering weeds protruded from its base.

“It is a testament to our forefathers…” Adriel said with a whisper. The others watched it curiously as they rode around it. The group soon dismounted and tethered their horses to the trees at the base of a hill.

They began to climb the slope, and after several minutes, reached its crest and emerged from the fog.

Ahead of them was a mighty ring of earth, seven hills rising like giants beyond the trees. They could barely make out several chunks of stone strewn across the hilltops, almost entirely buried in grass.

“This was once the capital of Charun, Cresen Khan. Now, it is nothing more than a testament to our once glorious past.

‘It was built over two thousand years ago. It was one of the first built in Charun and one of the largest since. However, its glory would eventually become its ruin.

‘Three hundred years ago, Abaddon led his armies into the South and crushed the resistance there, sending them retreating to their final hope, Cresen Khan. In forty nights, he besieged the city alongside his armies. He eventually breached their defenses and entered the city.

‘Blood flowed like a river in its streets. Every man, woman and child was put to the sword. They demolished every building and wiped out all traces of the once great citadel.

‘The few who managed to escape Abaddon’s wrath retreated to Abraxas, where it eventually became our country’s present capital.

‘Abaddon made a grave mistake however in overlooking Abraxas to the west as without threat, for it was naught but an outpost at the time. He left the city with his armies and turned his attention back to the North, leaving Charun to wither. After three hundred years, we never forgot Cresen Khan and its demise.”

The Warriors picked their way through the ruins. The remains of walls, towers, and buildings lay forever abandoned beneath a bed of wildflowers. An otherworldly silence seemed to fill the hills, setting heavy on the mists.

They passed several moss-covered columns and approached a massive head that seemed to gasp for life above its earthen grave. Its stone flesh was blackened with the tongues of an ancient fire. The face stared stolid into the skies above with cracked and pitted eyes.

Around the head was a hood of stone that hid a crown set atop its brow. The rest of its body was destroyed, nothing remained save its forlorn face.

A strong wind suddenly picked up and tore across the hilltop with force. The head let out a tremendous crackling before toppling over and crashing into the grass with a spray of dirt. The Warriors watched it fall, eyes wide.

“That’s not a good omen…” Joshua muttered.

“Wait…do you smell that?” Aaron asked the others.

They raised their noses to the wind. Silas grimaced. “Smells like smoke?”

Adriel’s eyes lit up and she bolted from the group.

“Where are you going?” Cain called after her. She disappeared into the mist.

The men looked at each other anxiously before chasing after her. They followed her through the trees and around Cresen Khan, eventually coming out into the open. Adriel stood on the edge of a small precipice, her back to them.

“Are you all right?” Cain asked as they approached. She remained frozen. They followed her wide-eyed stare to a field before them.

At the bottom of the hill they stood upon was a large village, a hundred or so wooden homes spread across the hilly terrain. Through the fog, hundreds of bodies lay sprawled across the village.

Men, women, children, every villager lay dead in a lake of blood. Infants were impaled on bloody lances; their tiny bodies limp in the wind. Blood covered all the earth, near illuminating the dead with a vivid crimson hue. Flocks of vultures covered the deceased, filling their beaks with rotting flesh. Several homes still smoldered in their ashes, billowing forth great plumes of smoke. The Warriors stood in horror at the sight, anger mounting in their hearts.

“Damn the Arzecs…” Silas growled.

Adriel bowed her head. “This isn’t the only village…and it won’t be the last.”