The Lost Eight by Duron Crejaro (libby ebook reader .txt) 📖

all the knights currently stationed at fort Konway, Julius was his favorite. They rode out and turned east at a light gallop, Creolis following the pace set by Elris. They traveled in silence for a few hours.

 

Suddenly Elris pulled his reins, bringing his palomino mare to a slow walk. He did the same, pulling into stride beside Elris, who had pulled a water skin from his bag. "Catch," Creolis barely had time to react, and very nearly dropped the skin. He quickly uncapped it, taking long gulps, not realizing how thirsty he had become during their ride. After drinking his fill, he tossed it back to Elris, who sat motionless just staring at him, "Go ahead Creolis. I know the questions are driving you crazy."

 

"I'll start with this. Why did the Praetor send you to escort me?" he asked, referring to the high templar of the Kynnorian knighthood.

 

A sly grin slowly crept up Elris’ face as he placed the skin back in his saddlebag, "She didn't. The orders were fake."

 

"What do you mean fake?"

 

Elris laughed at this, "Exactly what I said, they are forgeries. I had them made weeks ago. When I first found out I had to get you out."

 

A perplexed look openly adorned his face as he stared at Elris not quite understanding. "Speak plainly Elris, It’s been a long day."

 

"Belladria's armies have taken the Qemara pass, and even now they're probably destroying Fort Konway. After that, they will march forth and descend upon Kynnory." Elris stated slowly for Creolis' benefit.

 

Utter disbelief was all that showed on his face. Without a word, or thought, he moved to action. A tight pull on the reins as he dug his heels into the horse's flanks. It lurched forward into a full gallop, back towards fort Konway.

 

Elris turned with a scowl, giving chase. Of course, he had already expected this reaction from Creolis. Oh to be young and idealistic again. The irony was not lost on Elris, as he would have acted much the same in his youth. He remained silent as he closed in on him. It would have been pointless to talk. He knew nothing he could say could change what he had done. It was a necessary evil in these trying times. As abruptly as the chase had begun, it was over. Creolis began to slow his mount, which was breathing raggedly from being pushed so hard. Elris pulled as near as he could. A profound sadness showing on his face under the scornful gaze of his friend, for he knew exactly what he was feeling. "You can't save them. I watched the forces massing on the far side of Qemara. The small contingent stationed at Konway has no chance."

 

"I should be there, it’s my duty. I have to try." the anger apparent in his tone. His posture showed differently, as he began to slump ever so slightly in his saddle.

 

"So you can die to? I made a promise years ago to your father, that what he did for me would not bring harm to his family. I did what I always do. Exactly what must be done for the greater good. You have a greater purpose then to die there with them.”

 

Creolis was still staring at Elris, his eyelids fluttering, his focus on Elris seeming to fade. He shook his head, trying to clear his vision. "What did you do to me?"

 

"Just a little sleeping potion. To stop you from doing exactly this. You didn't honestly think that I wouldn't expect a spectacle like this from you?" he said it nonchalantly, not looking for forgiveness.

 

A dazed sleepy glare rode Creolis' face, "You're a bastard." He felt the darkness closing in on him. His last thoughts to himself, was that he could have sworn he heard Elris laughing.

Chapter 2: So It Begins

His eyes fluttered, the warm morning sunshine casting a red glow to his vision. They opened briefly taking in the clear blue sky above, before closing again. A gentle rocking he felt around him, as if he was swaying. The events of the day prior flashed through his still groggy mind like white-hot lightning. Immediately he lurched trying to sit up, almost passing back out in the process, the drugs still lingering in his system.

 

He steadied himself on a polished wooden rail. A wooden rail he questioned silently. He thought to himself shaking his head to clear his vision. A boat, he muttered to himself as he took in his surroundings. He was not sure why he was surprised. Traveling by horse would have taken far to long, especially if there was an army just hours behind them, as Elris had claimed.

 

"Elris!" He roared finding his feet carefully. Just thinking of him had reminded him what his friend had done.

 

"Over here," came a cheery voice from the aft, as if nothing was wrong. "How'd you sleep?"

 

Creolis stamped angrily towards Elris, who sat lazily at the rudder, directing their course. Without hesitation, he balled a heavy mailed fist, which began to glow slightly with a pale opaque almost blue light. He smiled inwardly at the grimace on Elris' face, as he realized what was next. The blow connected solidly to his face, with much more force than even Creolis' impressive physique should have mustered. Elris flew sideways, smashing heavily into the starboard side of the boat, causing it to rock harshly for a moment.

 

Elris groaned as he rubbed his jaw, he felt the warm sensation of fluid flowing as his tongue flicked his now bleeding lip. Much harder, he thought to himself and his jaw would have been dislocated. However, he simply sat himself up and leaned heavily on the railing. He knew he deserved it, and worse probably for the things he had done, "Are you quite done?"

 

"If you ever drug me again, I'll kill you. You deserve it now, letting my men die without at least a warning." he hissed out at Elris, sparing a glance in the direction of Fort Konway, though it was long since gone from view.

 

"Their death was not without a point. They will stall the army long enough for the people of Kynnory to flee. Did you not think I would also send word to your father?"

 

Creolis stopped, looking now to the northeast. The thought of his hometown had not yet crossed his mind. They were the closest large town to Fort Konway. That was after all why he had requested being stationed at fort Konway in the first place. Concern began to rise across his brow, and Elris saw it.

 

"No," Elris stated flatly, "We are not going there either. I sent word to your father days ago, before I even knew with absolute certainty that Belladria's armies were on the move. He and any who will follow should be long gone before the city is attacked. He was instructed to tell the townspeople what was coming and to take all who would travel with him away, to Calle, then to Amlily."

 

"And what if no one listens?" anger beginning to rise in his voice again.

 

"Your father holds much influence, many will listen. Those that don't will soon witness the folly of their decisions firsthand.” A decidedly indifferent shrug emanated from Elris as he spoke.

 

"How can you be so heartless about this Elris? I've always known you to be kind, filled with laughter. There are many in Kynnory that would call you friend, but you would leave their fates to chance, to whether or not they believed an seemingly outlandish unlikely tale."

 

"You don't live as long as I do without learning that you can't save everyone." He shrugged to add emphasis "I learned long ago, to laugh at what you can, and do what you have to for the greater good. I can hope that all will follow, but I know that they will not. I have to find what solace I can with the knowledge that I saved those that I could, but maybe you’re right. I am a bit cynical in my old age."

 

"So, where will we go then if not to Kynnory?" Creolis sounded disappointed, though secretly he had no desire to run headlong into a rampaging army.

 

"We will follow Lake Repik's southern border, to the river Allowyin." Elris ventured, referring to the lake named for its crystal clear green waters. Kynnory was nestled cozily onto its western banks.

 

"We're going to Calle?" inquired Creolis knowing that the Allowyin flowed out of Lake Repik, into the city-state of Calleron just to the east of Kynnory.

 

"No, my people have reported that Belladria already has agents roaming the countryside. She knows me. She no doubt has them looking for me. Some of my people have already been killed or gone missing."

 

"Your people? Who are you? Who is this, this Belladria?" he sounded exasperated, wondering why all this was happening, "What in Renad's name is going on. You need to give me some answers Elris, some real answers."

 

Elris sighed, eyes downcast, watching the water lap gently against the edge of the boat. His thoughts racing as he considered what he should tell Creolis. His life had already been turned upside down, why make it worse? For that matter where to even begin, "What do you know of the War of Eight?"

 

"That old tale? Eight powerful practitioners of magic, each master of their craft, waged a war against each other. It devastated the lands of Dalsor, leading to the Desolation. In the end, King Elia of Dalsor, with the help of Renad, ended their reigns of terror and the war. They banished magic, lest it be used to ruin the world further." He began to rant off the little bits of random text he could remember.

 

Elris had an incredulous look on his face, somewhere between disgust and disbelief, "Is that really what they're teaching in the histories now?" something between a scoff and a chuckle left him.

 

"And you know more, is that it?"

 

"Of course. I'm a member of Renad's Tempest."

 

"Renad’s Tempest,” he mused thoughtfully, “Why does that sound familiar? Isn’t that the society of warriors dedicated to Drnae, founded by Renad himself?" A dubious look on Creolis' face, as he struggled not to laugh.

 

"Well I see we're still at least mentioned in the histories." he grumbled, "Yes, of course them."

 

"Almost no one follows Drnae anymore, his religion has been in decline for centuries. Only Thyrinn itself even still has a temple dedicated to him. Yet, you expect me to believe in the existence of some underground secret society?"

 

"Believe me or not Creolis. It doesn't really matter does it? It has no effect on the situation we are in. Eventually you will come to the conclusion that what I speak is the truth"

 

A nod and a wave to continue from Creolis as he nodded his acceptance of this truth, "Then do enlighten me, and we will see what I think of your story."

 

"Most of the history being taught is incorrect. Elia was also one of the eight, and yes, all Eight were the most powerful practioners of the arts ever seen. They trapped the worlds magic’s however, they weren't banished. They tapped into the world’s magic and trapped it in eight artifacts, effectively stealing it from Mris for their own private use," Creolis gazed at him, skeptical but nevertheless listening