the nameless
Post on 30-May-2018
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PART I: The Battle of Nastholo
The thief slowly stroked the knifes blade in his gloved hands. It was slightly cold,
even through the gloves, but that was normal for any weapon imbued with water
crystals. His yellow eyes wandered from the small table he was watching to another
bazaar stand, and then to the small groups of two or three soldiers marching
through the bustling marketplace. It was a small inconvenience to his job, but war
was war, and when a war was going on (as it had been since 1422, two years after
his birth) soldiers would be present. Better the Nastholans catch him stealing than
the Arrhennians. After all, the punishment for thievery in Nastholo is a fine, while
the punishment in Arrhennius is death.
Worm, a voice whispered from behind the table he had been watching. The
thief whipped his head around, but only saw the table and the elderly man running
it. Behind the stand, the voice whispered again. The thief slipped his dagger up
his sleeve, and walked around the elderly mans stand, being careful not to attract
his attention. He looked for the source of the voice, and found it in a young, yet
strangely experienced-looking man leaning against the stone walls of the bazaar.
His hair appeared dry, uncut, and dirty, a description which, as he looked over his
attire, applied to the entire man. He was stroking his short beard with his left hand,
and letting a small dagger dangle from the index finger of his right.
Ah, Keith. Wasnt aware that you had clearance to come to Nastholo since
the last time you were caught, the thief said.
Look, kid, Im free, like the wind. Nobody tells me what to do, and no one
tells me where I can- he paused to spit on the ground, -and cant go, the man
who was called Keith said. No, Im not allowedto be here, but thats what makes it
all the more entertaining.
Well then, the thief said, letting his dagger slip from his sleeve, dont get
me into any more trouble than Im already getting myself into. If we were under
Arrhennian law, you would have already made a hobby of death. Ill do it myself if
you get me caught.
Hey, hey, kid, Keith said, backing off. Calm down. No ones going to get
you caught.
Go back to Nas Fostho. If you can make it there alive, dont come back. If
you dont think that the Empress herself doesnt keep track of every single criminal
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who walks the streets, youre mistaking. While you might find it amusing to be near
that lists top, I dont want to even make it on the bottom.
Fine, Keith said, putting his left hand in his pocket. He turned his back and
started to walk off, still twirling his tiny dagger on his index finger. Oh, I think I
dropped something, he said. Keith withdrew his left hand from his pocket and
tossed a tied bundle to the thief. He looked down at the package, and before he
could look up, Keith had disappeared around the stone wall.
I wonder what that imbecile gave me this time, he droned, untying the knot
around the package. The cloth fell off of the crystalline object inside, and he
gasped.
What in the name of Ephos? Keith got it? He was staring at the circular red
crystal in his palm, aghast. He had been watching it for the past hour, how on
Saundrol could Keith have gotten to it in the few seconds that he wasnt looking?
Unfortunately, the thief wasnt the only one looking at the crystal. The
elderly man, who did not remember selling it to anyone, had been startled by the
thiefs earlier exclamation and had turned around to look at the scene going on
behind him.
Thief! Thief! the man called out, waving his arms. He stood up, and
grabbed the thief by the collar. I hope you didnt think you could get away with
this thief! THIEF!
Keith... the thief fumed, not daring to move. A group of three soldiers had
already begun to walk in the direction of the elderly man and himself.
You! one of the soldiers shouted, pointing at the thief. Dont move!
Oh, great, the thief said to himself. He quickly hid his dagger in a sheath
on the inside of his shirt; he could not afford to lose it.
Name, the soldier who had shouted said, approaching the thief.
I dont know, the thief said, cursing himself in his head.
Dont play stupid with me. Whats your name!? the soldier said, in a more
demanding and intimidating tone.
I already said, I dont know, he continued. He was too honest for a thief; he
should have said Keith Isson. The truth, though, was that he really had no idea
what his name was.
So you dont have a name, kid?
Thats right, the thief said.
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What do you go by?
People call me Worm, sir, he said to the soldier.
Fitting name for a thief, one of the soldiers said, and they began to laugh
among themselves.
The stolen property please, Worm, a soldier said, and held out his hand.
Worm deposited the ruby orb into the soldiers armored palm, which closed around
it. So, he said, inspecting it. What possessed you to steal this? It does not look
like the conventional thing one would steal.
Yes it does, Worm snapped. Its a gemstone. Very valuable.
This orb appears to be magically enchanted, is it not, sir? the soldier said to
the elderly man, who meekly nodded. Then you are guilty of two crimes, the theft
of the orb itself and the theft of magic, is that not correct, mister Worm?
Thats absurd! How was I to know the orb was enchanted? Worm yelled.
He had indeed not been told by his employer in Nas Fostho that the orb had magical
enchantments attached to it. And how would that count as multiple crimes? Magic
cant be stolen!
Magical enchantments can be stolen, mister Worm. And because you have
committed two robberies, you will be escorted to the prison camp in Nas Enco.
Guards!
Whaaat! You cant just send me off to prison because I stole something!
Worm stammered, beginning to feel faint. A soldier seized each of his arms and he
felt himself being lifted into the air. He felt his head spinning, seeing red, beginning
to lose consciousness
Greetings, Empress Oceana, the tall, gaunt, white-skinned man rasped. I trust
that you are in good health?
Chancellor Efson, a cold and calm voice said from behind Empress Celia
Oceanas light brown face-veil. The young Empress turned her light, gold-lined
throne to face the elderly Arrhennian Chancellor. Chancellor Efson gasped as
Empress Oceana rose from her throne, removing the veil from her face. She was
tall, almost as tall as Efson himself, and her sand-colored hair practically touched
the elaborately designed marble floor.
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Ah, so once her own life comes into the equation, the Empress of Nastholo
decides to let her people die, Efson said, laughing. How noble, little girl.
You dont know what youre talking about, Celia said, smiling. I am no
coward. I never once planned to surrender. She drew an elaborate turquoise-
colored sword from a sheath on her hip, and, in one swift movement, had the tip of
the blade pointed at Chancellor Efsons neck.
I honestly hope that you jest, Efson said, smirking. Otherwise, you are the
epitome of a rash, young girl, Empress or not.
Chancellor Efson, Celia said, grinning, Do you refuse my challenge? If I
lose, and am killed, then your offer will have been upheld. I will be dead.
Interesting, Efson said, drawing his own sword while backing away from
Celias blade. And if you win?
Then you would be dead, and I shall announce to your armies that you were
defeated in a duel. What happens then will be entirely up to fate.
It will not happen, Efson said. I am sixty-four seasons of age. I have had
fifty seasons of training in the art of swordplay. You can not have possibly had more
than five seasons of training. It is inconceivable that you should win.
Then why havent you accepted? Celia grinned. You want me dead, and if
what you are saying is true, then I am offering you my life! What is there to fear?
I could be falling into your trap.
Trickery? You dont think that I am honorable enough to compete in a duel
without foul play?
And I should trust you?
Why should you not?
You are my foe!
I may be your foe, but I still have morals. Now have at you!
Worm was still unconscious when the guards loaded his body onto the locomotive
car.
Think hes another Arrhennian spy? one of the guards said.
Well, the other started, he was stealing a magical enchantment.
He doesnt look Arrhennian, the first guard said, a perplexed look on his
face.
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Neither did the last few. Just because hes Nas Homoan doesnt mean that
his allegiance doesnt lie with the Arrhennian Empire.
I guess, the first guard said. He didnt seem like a spy though.
The second guard climbed into the locomotive car. Get in, Dragomir.
Dragomir nodded, and stepped into the small prison car. He removed his
helmet, and his rugged blonde hair poured out over his chiseled face. The door to
the car shut, and he could feel the wheels beneath him begin to clamber over the
metal tracks. Hey Yogron, why do we have to go with him?
To ensure that he doesnt escape, Yogron said to Dragomir.
How is he going to escape from this prison car? Dragomir said, the familiar
perplexed look washing over his face. I dont think even I could, and Im
completely armed.
Hes an Arrhennian spy, Im sure he could think of something.
What makes you so sure that hes a spy?
Instinct, Yogron grunted, and turned away.
Well my instincts tell me differently, Dragomir said to himself. Theres no
way he could be a spy.
Suddenly, Dragomir heard a loud bang outside of the locomotive. A few
seconds later, there was another bang, and the entire car shook. He felt the wheels
stop crawling along underneath him, and felt the car collide with the one in front of
it.
Yogron! Dragomir yelled, standing up. Whats happening?
It seems like weve been ambushed, Yogron said, standing up. Take the
spy. We need to get out of here. Dragomir nodded, and leaned down to pick up
Worm. There was another bang and crash, and as the floor of the car shook and
Dragomir fell to the ground, Worms eyes flickered, and shot open.
What was that! he rasped, standing up and fumbling in his shirt for
something. Who are you?
Come on! Dragomir yelled, motioning for Worm to follow. He drew a heavy,
spiked war hammer from his waist and demolished the door of the car in one blow.
I guess I could get out of here if I tried, he mumbled to himself, jumping out of the
car. Yogron and Worm followed suit quickly.
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What in the name of Ephos Yogron was staring in front of them.
Dragomir. Spy. We need to move back. We have to get back to Nastholo and warn
the Empress.
Youre right, Dragomir said, staring at the enormous Arrhennian army
advancing towards the walls of Nastholo. The locomotive, completely destroyed by
Arrhennian catapults, stretched almost all of the way to the city.
Spy. You can-
Are you referring to me? Worm said, staring at Yogron. Im not a spy. If I
was a spy, you would both be dead right now, and I would be among the army
advancing towards Nastholo.
Kill us? Yogron chuckled. How?
With this, Worm said, pulling his knife out of his shirt. And I dont really
think now is the time to be laughing. We have to sneak past an entire army.
Stop fighting, Dragomir said. We could attract unwanted attention.
Right, Worm said. So, whats the plan?
Plan? Yogron said. There isnt one, unless you count distracting them with
you so we can get away and warn the city.
Dont listen to him, Dragomir said, stroking his chin. I imagine that we can
sneak around the prison car on the locomotive, and then go through the passenger
cars that lead back to the city. We cant be more than twenty stretches away from
the city. We should be able to get back long before the army gets to Nastholo with
sufficient time to warn the Empress.
Its likely that scouting parties have been sent ahead, and there are
probably a few groups of Arrhennian soldiers inside the passenger cars gathering
resources. If the three of us are able to fight together, we will most likely be able to
overcome scouting parties of five or less if we have the element of surprise. We
should try to avoid larger groups.
Howd you just come up with that? Worm said, astonished.
Dragomir here can make up plans like this, Yogron said, snapping his
fingers. Smarter than he lets on. It gives him an advantage against people who
judge his intellect by his brawn.
We should start out now. I imagine if we wait any longer that we might be
too late, Dragomir said, cautiously removing his chain mail.
What are you doing? Yogron said, looking at Dragomir with disbelief.
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I imagine hes taking his armor off to allow him to move faster and prevent
the loud clanking that would undeniably draw a few eyes to the passenger cars,
Worm said.
Oh, Yogron said, frowning out of contempt for Worm. I suppose I should do
the same thing, he said, removing the heavy chain mail. His thin and lanky build
was even clearer once his armor was removed, and Worm had to suppress a laugh
at the clear contrast that Yogron and Dragomir had to each other.
Lets go, Dragomir grunted, turning his back on Worm and Yogron. Yogron
followed Dragomirs lead, pushing Worm to the side, and the two vanished from
Worms view. Should he follow them, the two men who he had never seen before
and didnt have any reason to trust? The thin one, he couldnt catch a name, had
been extraordinarily unpleasant; the large one, Dragomir, seemed to be the exact
opposite.
He walked around the corner of the prison car, and ran a bit to catch up with
them.
Say, he said, looking at Dragomir, if I helped you, you would forget about
Nas Enco?
The prison camp? Dragomir said, turning his head to look at Worm. Minor
thievery doesnt warrant a torturous prison. I was against taking you there in the
first place.
If you prove that you arent an Arrhennian spy, Yogron said, then the
charges will be dropped.
What right do you have to consider me a spy? Worm exclaimed.
Never mind that, Dragomir said. If you prove that you want to help
Nastholo by alerting the Empress of the impending Arrhennian army, then we will
drop the charges. Worm was silent as they walked along the rows of prison cars,
keeping an eye out for sentry groups.
Here we are, Dragomir said, eyeing an open-doored passenger car.
Yogron, you go first, he said, motioning Yogron to go inside the passenger car.
Yogron nodded, and stepped up into the open doorway.
The lights are out, Yogron said, frowning. The impact of the boulder to the
locomotive must have knocked out the crystals.
Its fine, Worm said, leaping up into the car. Im used to the dark.
The rest of us arent, Yogron sneered.
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Dont be so harsh, Dragomir said, climbing onto the pitch-black car. We
either band together now or get discovered, he said, and either killed off the bat
or taken prisoner.
Of course, Yogron mused, now all we have to do is navigate an entire
locomotive in the dark before an army arrives at the gates of Nastholo.
Stop complaining, Worm said angrily. Just follow me and itll be fine.
Dragomir nodded, and Worm started to walk down the darkened locomotive car, as
expertly as if he had memorized the layout of the car beforehand.
Come on, Dragomir said, pulling Yogron by the arm to follow Worm.
Now it doesnt look like anyones been here yet, Worm whispered, but I
could be mistaking. We should tread lightly from here on out. Dragomir and
Yogron both nodded, and Worm slowly opened the door to the next passenger car.
The three men slipped through the passageway as quietly and stealthily as
homoanly possible, and shut the door of the second passenger car behind them.
Only about twenty more to go, Yogron said with a sigh.
Dont worry, Worm said. All passenger cars in these locomotives are
exactly the same. We can take the exact same routes through all of the cars as we
did the first one.
Lets hurry, Dragomir said. We must protect Nastholo and the Empress.
Yogron nodded, and the three ran forwards through the second passenger car,
proceeding through the locomotive as quickly as possible.
So, Dragomir, was it? Worm said, panting. They had sprinted through
eleven passenger cars, and the group had come to a unanimous decision to slow
down for a minute. Dragomir nodded. Whereya from?
Zhaldas Split, he said, smiling. Its a nice city, surrounded by water,
always nice in a desert like East Osslyon.
Ah yes, Zhaldas Split, Worm said. I believe Ive been there before,
beautiful city.
Yeah, Dragomir said, reminiscing. What about yourself?
I dont know, Worm said, frowning.
What dya mean, you dont know? Yogron said. How can you not know
where youre from?
Same way I dont know my name, Worm said. I never met my parents.
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What happened to your parents? Dragomir said, astonished. Wouldnt
they have been able to remind you of you know, your name?
Never knewem, Worm said, quietly opening the door to the next car.
The three walked silently through the next couple of passenger cars, when
Dragomir opened the door and announced, Were there.
Worm closed his eyes; the light of the desert burned his eyes after he had
been in the darkness of the destroyed locomotive for so long. He heard Yogron and
Dragomir jump out of the car, and he followed suit. They looked back, and couldnt
see the Arrhennian army at all in the distance.
Good, Dragomir said, turning his head to the walls of Nastholo. Come on.
We cannot falter now. He began to run towards the gate, followed by Yogron and a
slightly exhausted Worm.
The group made it to the gate in little time at all, and Dragomir ran up to the
gate guards.
We come to warn the city of an advancing Arrhennian attack force,
Dragomir said. We must have immediate audience with the Empress.
What? the guard Dragomir was addressing spat, in utter shock.
Arrhennians?
Yes, we have little time, let us into the city! Yogron yelled.
We cannot do that. If what you are saying is true, we cannot open the gates
to the city at all. Word will be sent to the Empress.
No! Dragomir yelled. You dont get it! Theyre almost here!
Which is why we cannot let you- blood suddenly started to run from the
guards mouth, and he fell to the ground. Worm withdrew his dagger from the
guards neck.
Get the keys, Worm said to Dragomir, before the other guards notice. We
can sneak in from the smaller gates to the west. Dragomir nodded, he obviously
understood that desperate times called for desperate measures. As the three ran,
Worm started to speak.
Well enter in the military district, he said, running along the side of the
wall. We can quickly run to the Grand Gate and try to reason with the guards to
the palace. Once were in the palace, its all climbing stairs from there.
Have you been in the palace before? Yogron said, suspiciously eyeing
Worm.
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No, just studied maps, Worm said. I always knew a situation like this
would turn up, he added sarcastically.
They made it to the gate into the military district, and Dragomir quickly
inserted the key and slammed the gate open. Once they had all hurried inside, he
slammed the gate behind him. Lets go, Dragomir said, starting to run in the
direction of the Grand Gate. Time is running out quickly.
Worm and Yogron both nodded, and quickly followed him. Worm noticed that
the eyes of civilians, civilians who would all die if they didnt make it to the palace in
time, were glued to the group.
Were almost there! Dragomir exclaimed, looking forwards. The Grand
Gate, and behind it, the palace, stood ahead. Come on!
The three of them reached the Grand Gate in unison, and Worm immediately
said to the guards, Open the gate. We have news for the Empress.
W-what? the guard said. What news?
The news is for the Empress, not you, Dragomir said. Open the gates.
See these symbols? Theyre the emblem of the Nastholan Army. We arent
intruders. Now let us in!
The guard nodded, speechless, and stuck his key in the gate. He opened the
wrought-iron Grand Gate, and as Dragomir, Worm, and Yogron ran into the palace
yard, shut it just as quickly.
Almost there, Yogron panted, running past the guards to the palace door
and into the middle tower of the palace. It was a gigantic, circular room, the
emblem of Nastholo engraved onto the stone floor, and a round staircase circling
the entire tower up to the top.
Lets climb, Dragomir said, beginning the long ascent to the top of the
tower. Yogron and Worm followed, both panting, out of strength.
Weve almost made it Yogron breathed, his voice now hoarse and
rasping.
There! Dragomir said, wrapping his hand around the elaborate knobs of the
doors to the Empresss throne room. He threw the door open, and thundered:
Empress Oceana!
Worms eyes widened as he saw the young Empress slash with a turquoise-
colored blade at a tall, gaunt, dark robed man with a sword in his left hand. The
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man deftly parried the Empresss blow, retaliating with a slash to her hand that
knocked her sword to the ground.
Intruders! the man said, whirling around. Worm looked into his bright green
eyes, and then over his white, wrinkled, and scarred face. He was extremely
formidable, to say the least.
Who are you? Dragomir said, drawing his war hammer from his belt.
Who am I? the man said, sheathing his sword. Why should I tell such low-
lives as you? Do you not have eyes? Can you not see that the Empress and I are in
the middle of a duel?
We dont have time for this, Worm said, walking towards the fallen
Empress. Empress Oceana. We have come from the deserts outside the walls of
Nastholo to warn you of an incoming Arrhennian army. They should be nearly at the
gate by now.
W-what? Celia said, taken aback. They are they are here already?
We saw them with our own eyes, Yogrons snide voice added in.
Empress, the man said, smiling and placing a hand on his sword. My
orders were for them to stay at the mountains and wait for orders from me to
advance. Not to-
Silence, Celia said, lifting her sword from the ground. Your ploy will
deceive me no longer. Our duel is over.
Empress Oceana, the man said, his smile twisting into an evil grin, I fail to
see your point. My armies are apparently already at the gates, and you have no
time to ready your own army. Why dont you just let me finish killing you?
Chancellor Efson, with all due respect, you have lied about the agreement
you made with me earlier. Your armies were never told to stand by in the
mountains and wait for your word to attack. I believe the ones who brought your
fraud to surface, she said, nodding towards Worm, Dragomir, and Yogron, should
be your executioners.
Executioners? Efson said. He began to laugh. You plan to kill me?
Thats what she said, Worm said, pulling his dagger out from inside his
shirt. Or are you a little hard of hearing?
And what is this? The Chancellor examined Worm, looking at his tattered
cloth shirt, old black leather pants that appeared to be too large, and a half-broken
pair of sandals. A street urchin dares to insult me? Efson said through his
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laughter, unsheathing his sword. Very well, try and poke me with that little knife of
yours!
Hes all yours, Dragomir said, nodding, and stepped to the side. I think
you can handle him
Hah, Id like to see that, Yogron laughed, drawing a long sword from his
waist. Theres no way he can handle a Chancellor alone.
Thank you, Celia said, looking at Worm. I will go and rally the troops. Be
careful, for if any of us survive this, you will be rewarded when all is said and done.
She ran through the open doors, and they shut with a loud slamming noise behind
her.
Worm gulped, looking into the fierce red eyes of the Chancellor. They
seemed ablaze with fury, lighting his entire contorted, pale face on an invisible fire.
He grasped his dagger in his fist, and, swallowing his fear, walked up to face
Chancellor Efson.
You poor young fools, Efson rasped, clasping his fingers tight around the hilt
of his sword, first the Empress, and now a worthless urchin, challenging me to a
duel? I will enjoy killing you.
I think youve forgotten about us, Yogron said, pointing his sword at the
back of Efsons neck.
No! Worm exclaimed, his eyes narrowing. I may be a thief, but I still
maintain all of the honor I possibly can. This is a duel, not a three-on-one brawl.
You are foolish, Efson rasped, his voice as harsh and merciless as the roar
of a great beast. You do not stand a chance.
Dragomir! Yogron! Follow the Empress. Help her in any way you can. I
want to put this old man in his place by myself, Worm said. Dragomir nodded, and
he pushed the door of the throne room open, and dragged a struggling Yogron out
by the wrist, the door slamming behind them.
As for you, Worm said, directing his gaze to Efson, make your peace with
Ephos now. Before the day is over, you will be a corpse on this very floor.
Very brave words, the Chancellor rasped, grinning. One must admire your
sheer gall. Now, let us get this over with before my army destroys this very castle.
Id love to, Worm said, reaching into a pouch on his waist. He latched a
metal glove with two hooked knives attached to his right hand, and pointed his
dagger at Efson with his left. Prepare to die!
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H hah you think I value my life over the goals of the High
King? Efson said, laughing despite his pain. You really are a fool kill me
now, please get it over with.
You are the fool, Chancellor, Worm said, pointing Efsons sword at him.
The only person you should look after is yourself. I learned that long ago. Now,
he said, digging the point of the sword into Efsons neck, you will realize the
consequences of your flawed principals. And with a quick flick of the wrist, Efsons
head rolled away from his body, hitting the foot of Empress Oceanas throne.
Dragomir. Why did you leave the petty thief with the task of killing the chancellor?
You dont think he could really do-
Yogron. He is the one, Dragomir said firmly. His eyes were the color of the
dunes. Id recognize them anywhere.
You mean you think hes the son of
Yes, Dragomir said. Do nottell him. I am not sure if he is his descendent
as of right now. He walked down the alley in between the palace walls and army
barracks, pulling Yogron by the collar with him. Your master will want to know of
this. Go and alert him immediately.
What about the Arrhennians? Yogron gasped, his brown eyes bulging in
their sockets.
Perhaps he will help, Dragomir said with a sly smile.
Dont bet on it, Yogron grumbled, his eyes narrowing. Ill go.
Good, Dragomir said, throwing the back door of the barracks open. Be
safe, old friend.
Dragomir saw Yogron nod as he ran deeper into the alley, chanting incantations
under his breath. Dragomir sighed and turned, and walked into the barracks,
closing the door with a thud behind him. Most of the soldiers he saw were sleeping,
all unarmored. He saw a man and woman playing cards on a table in the corner.
Attention men and women! Dragomir thundered, raising the battle hammer
from his belt. The armies of Arrhennius are at our doors! You have little time! He
slid a chain mail jacket from the corner over his broad shoulders, and picked up a
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helmet and put it under his arm. He could hear the soldiers waking up, murmuring.
The man had put his hand of cards down and was standing, face aghast.
This is not a joke! We are under attack! Soldiers, get your armor on!
Dragomir yelled, slamming the helmet onto his head. Most of the soldiers were
standing upright now, half-naked without any armor on at all.
How can we believe you?
I was having a nice dream
I had a flush!
Royal flush, pay up, old fool.
You have got to be out of your mind!
I said this is not a joke! The Arrhennians are here! Were under- Dragomir
was interrupted by another angry soldier.
Oh, give it a rest.
Yeah, give it a rest!
SILENCE! An extraordinarily loud voice rang from the other side of the
barracks. The room settled, and the soldiers turned to the source of the new voice.
Dragomir turned too, cautious, and saw the form of the Empress.
The man does not speak lies, Celias voice rang. The Arrhennian armies
are at the gates. Arm yourselves, and prepare to die.
As for you, sir, Celia said, making a motion to Dragomir, you will come with
me. I need your assistance.
Dragomir nodded, and walked across the room, past the dumbfounded
soldiers, to the Empress.
Empress, is this really happening? One of the soldiers said, with a look of
fear glazed upon his face.
Im afraid so, Celia said, frowning. Now get to arms! Nastholo needs your
defense! There was a clambering of the soldiers to get their armor on as Celia
escorted Dragomir out of the barracks.
What is it, Empress? Dragomir said, confused. Why had the Empress, the
ruler of the entire empire, asked him for help?
I need someone to accompany me to the Hall of the Magi, Celia said,
beginning to slightly run towards the palace again. We must consult the Circle of
Eight for help.
The Circle of Eight? But isnt that just a rumor?
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It seems you are indeed a relatively low ranked soldier, Celia said, breaking
into a full speed sprint. It is no rumor. The Circle does indeed exist.
Low ranked? Dragomir said, stopping. Why is it that you want such a
low ranked soldier helping you?
Because you wont be low ranked for long, not if Nastholo survives this.
Youre the one who brought the news of the army to me.
Oh, right, Dragomir said, beginning to run again. So, about the Circle of
Eight
Were almost there, Celia said, pulling an elaborately decorated staff from
her back. In the name of Ephos, open this door! She exclaimed, pointing her staff
at the air, looking at an enormous marble door in the side of the palace. A bolt of
lightning, with an earsplitting screech, descended in front of the door, striking it
with full force.
That didnt open it? Dragomir said, shocked.
Yes, it did, Celia said, watching lines of bright blue light appear on the door.
With a rush of cold air, the door slid open, practically sucking the two inside. The
door shut behind them, engulfing the two in total darkness.
Come, Celia said, our destination isnt far now. Dragomir nodded, and
began to follow Celia into the darkness. The corridors they were walking through
were twisted and narrow, not to mention pitch black.
Dragomir, Celia said, her voice quivering. No one has disturbed the Circle
for hundreds of years. I have heard from the records of them that they are
extremely eccentric, but do not take anything I have to say about them as truth.
Hundreds of years? That means that theyre been around Dragomir
started, his face draining of blood.
They have been around, supposedly, since the dawn of time. The most
powerful mages in the entire world Celia said, spreading her palm on a flat rock
surface before her. Glowing, purple lines began to trace over the stone, forming
into a pattern
An enormous purple eye then took shape, bulging out of the stone, gazing
ahead.
The Empress of Nastholo demands access to the Hall of the Magi! Celia
said, staring at the eye. The eye closed, and shrunk back into the stone wall.
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Suddenly, the wall began to shake, and with the sound of grinding stone and
shattering rock, the stone exploded.
Thats one way to get in, Dragomir said, walking forward. He drew a spear
from a sling on his back. I will protect you until we arrive at the destination.
That wont be necessary, Celia said. The room in which the circle resides
is only a small walk across this pool.
Dragomir looked down, and saw a shallow layer of water over an ornately
carved blue stone floor, with a slightly indented path of gold that seemed to lead to
a door. Down that path, right? he said.
Yes, Celia said, now lets get moving. The Arrhennian invasion isnt going
to wait all day.
Dragomir nodded, and stepped into the pool, onto the golden path. He
offered his hand to help Celia down, and the two walked down the path, water up to
their ankles, to a gigantic golden door. Celia slammed her staff into the water, and
with a swift movement, pointed it directly at the door.
Unseal! She said, rather loudly. Suddenly, a sphere of blue light appeared
on the arched top of the cavern, and it began to rotate. The sphere shot a
cylindrical beam of light at the bottom of the door, the beam moving from bottom to
top multiple times.
This should open the door, Celia said, looking at an astounded Dragomir.
I have never seen magic of such a magnitude before I didnt think it
existed in Nastholo, He said, clutching his spear. It frightened me at first.
No powerful magic? Celia said, walking up to the door. Nonsense. A
gigantic ray of light suddenly burst out of the seam which the beam of blue light
had been tracing, and the door burst open.
Who is it who disturbs the Circle of Eight? A loud, rasping voice that
sounded like two stones grinding together screamed.
Where is Ronjok of the Sands? Celia yelled into the door, over the sound of
the doors creaking open and the waterfall of light that had emptied into the cavern.
Ah now here we see the face that destroyed Nastholo, the grinding voice
said, completely ignoring Celias question. The voice, disembodied up until this
point, was correctly assigned by Dragomir to a figure in obscenely long robes slowly
descending from the stairs behind the door.
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Do not make me laugh the spear crumbled into a pile of dust, which
reformed itself into a pair of gigantic stone hands. The hands wrapped around
Dragomirs neck, strangling him, stealing the essence of his life from his lungs
If I could be killed by such primitive ways, do you think I would still be alive?
Now With a last squeeze, the stone hands crumbled into dust on the ground,
leaving Dragomir hunched over on his knees, gasping for air.
You you Dragomir rasped.
You traitor, Celia spat. Come, General Vaguston. We do not need the help
of archaic and traitorous mages.
Dragomir nodded, and he rose from the ground. In all of his years, he had
never imagined that the Circle of Eight would be reclusive, traitorous monsters
He followed Celia out of the Hall of Mages, breathing generous gasps of air.
Looking back, he saw that Ronjok had already gone back behind the golden door,
safe from harm in his impenetrable haven.
Empress, can we
General, do not fret over these matters. Those mages will play little part in
our victory today. The two quickly exited the Hall, walking back up the twisting
passageways from which they came.
Yogron walked down the dank passages between the castle and the barracks.
His feet splashed in the small pools of mud and water as he shed is Nastholan
armor, pulling a black cloth hood over his head. He dropped his heavy, useless
sword in front of him and drew a pair of poison-tipped stilettos from his belt.
Is the spy really the successor of Gant the Ninth Son? Had he apprehended
the sole person who had a chance to save Saundrol from the threat that was about
to arise?
These answers will come soon enough he thought to himself, beginning
his ascent over a tall stone wall. He had to get to The Nameless as soon as
possible, or The Syndicate might not take action to defend Nastholo from the
oncoming assault. Jumping down from the wall to the other side, Yogron tapped the
ground with his foot to make a trap door appear. Falling down through the door, the
hole above him was immediately replaced with the cobblestone it had been made of
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just a few seconds ago. Before his feet touched the ground, he had a firestick
pointed at his forehead.
Oh, point that Ephos-damned contraption at someone else, Grion, Yogron
said, pushing the metal barrel of the firestick away from his face.
The Syndicate has changed, Yogron. We do not accept people from the
streets into out grasps we cannot afford to, Grion said, sliding the firestick into a
belt across his abdomen. Now, what brings you here?
I I have I think that I have found him
Found him? You mean Grion said, his eyes widening.
Yes yes. The ninth son.
Yogron, you were always a fool. Do not make me kill you, and dont go
where you arent welcome.
Wh-what? Yogron said, gripping his daggers tightly, sweat building up in his
palms. What are you implying?
You are in the Nastholan army. We all know that. For all I know, you could
be planning to kill The Nameless if I give you an audience with him!
That is enough, a voice said. For the first time, Yogron looked around the
room he was in there was a dirt floor, slightly muddy, and the walls were covered
in torches. There were small passageways leading in every way imaginable from
the room. The voice, though, seemed to be coming from behind him
Grion, why are you persecuting this man who you once called a friend? He
says that he has found information of utmost importance let him share it.
A man in a long red and black coat which dragged on the dirt ground walked
out of one of the passages behind Yogron.
My lord! Grion said, kneeling on the ground. What brings
Do not bow to me, Grion. All Godkin are equal, and if you bow to me, I have
every reason to bow to you. There is no reason to respect me more than Yogron
here, the robed man said, almost in a whisper.
Nameless, Yogron said, regaining his composure. I have found the Ninth
Son of Gant.
Already? The Ninth Son? The Nameless said, his eyes lightening. Why did
you not bring him to this old man?
Because Nastholo is under attack. I havent had the chance.
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The Namelesss eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed, and he pulled his
ornate red hood over his scarred and wrinkled face.
Come with me, my friend. As you know, I am a master of the necrotic arts. I
shall assist you in defending Nastholo.
No, Grion said, baring his teeth. We must retreat! We cannot be
discovered here! The Syndicate must not fall!
And why is that, Grion? Yogron said. Are you afraid that The Syndicate
cannot handle the forces of Arrhennius?
The road to Siffession it is an extremely long one you will not make it
Siffession? Who said anything about Siffession? We have to go to Islyeon!
Grion shouted.
Grion, you fool! Yogron exclaimed, raising his lead dagger to his neck. We
cannot go to Islyeon! The entire way is likely blocked by squads of Arrhennian
soldiers, and I have no desire to meet them!
You will not convince him, The Nameless said. Let him go. He will learn
through his dance with death.
Dance with death? Are you saying? Grion said, That going to Islyeon is
writing a death sentence for myself?
Sounds good with me, Yogron said. Fine then. Nastholo must not fall.
It shall not, The Nameless said. We will defend it until out last breath
leaves out lungs.
Worm studied the bloodied body of the fallen chancellor, the body tarnished
and unfit for such a beautiful and ornate throne room. He held Chancellor Efsons
head in his hand, not minding the blood running down his arms.
You werent a very wise man, were you? Worm said to the severed head,
looking into its eyes. But, all life must some to an end, isnt that right?
He had killed a man, murdered him for an offer (a terrible offer none the
less), and he felt relatively calm about the whole situation.
A disembodied voice then spoke to him;
You killed him. It enlightened you, made you feel pleasure, did it not? The
joy of killing?
You shall know who I am in time
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Come now, Ameus, tell me that you dont know who I am
What are you talking about? Who are you talking to? Worm blurted out,
not knowing where to stare to look the disembodied voice in the eye.
Time, Ameus. You are the Ninth Son, and your destiny will soon be made
quite clear.
Ninth son? What in the world are you babbling about?
Time is short now, I must be going. I imagine that we should meet
eventually.
Worm sat down in the throne, unconsciously, and held the Chancellors head.
You Arrhennians are so white. Pale, really and Worm drifted into a state
of pensiveness who was the strange voice that spoke to him what was it was
he ill? Had he drunk too much Silverberry Wine last night? His eyes were just about
to close, sending him into a deep sleep, but
An earsplitting note echoed over the entire city of Nastholo. Worms
thoughtful state was broken as Chancellor Efsons head rolled off of Worms startled
hand and fell onto the floor.
The battle of Nastholo had begun.
Worm shut his eyes and stood up. Why was he doing this? Why was he, a
thief and now a murderer, trying to save a city that would persecute and kill him
given any chance? He walked forth to the closed throne room door, the pools of
blood on the ground squelching up in between his toes, up and over his feet, the
blood of his foe consuming him, drawing him down
You feel remorse? The disembodied voice said, returning, like caramel
dripping from the ceiling. You do not like to kill? Now that will not do not at
all
Who are you? Worm said, grasping his head. A sudden migraine had just
come over him; he could hardly hear the crash of the south gates coming down, the
conglomeration of the screams of the Nastholan citizens and the battle cries of
soldiers, the clashing of steel, the sounds of war.
Face the facts, Ameus. You felt it his life running through your veins, his
eyes draining of his soul
Stop talking to me Worm fell to his knees and pounded his fists on
the blood-covered floor, splashing the red substance onto his clothes.
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Go and defend your city, Ameus you people need you to kill for them
Worm picked up his hands, let the blood drain out between his fingers, and
stood up. His legs were shaking, his hands were quivering, his body was blind to
the commands of his mind as he limped slowly forward, leaning against the door,
pushing it open.
Yes, thats right go and fight, the voice said.
I I wont speak to you... Worm said softly, walking out of the door and to
the spiraling staircase; Chancellor Efsons sword had found a way into his hand, and
he found himself dragging it behind him, slitting the carpet and leaving a trail of
blood on the stone. In this battle, he would undoubtedly kill again was he ready
to face it? Face watching a death caused by him again?
I must not kill I must not kill I must not kill he lied to himself as he
neared the bottom of the stairs. It seemed that the presence of the voice had gone,
and his headache with it. The shouts, screams, and sounds of warfare were made
louder and clearer as he neared the palace gate, when
The gate crashed to the ground, right in front of Worm, an inch closer and it
would have crushed him.
Freeze! An Arrhennian soldier said, looking back behind him. He was
leading an entire squadron of soldiers, who were advancing into the palace. They
were all alike black armor, white face, hair under helmet like a herd of animals...
Leave, Worm said, his voice quivering. He closed his fist around the
Chancellors sword in his right hand, drawing the knife from his waist with his left.
You are all animals all the same pitiful
Is that is that Chancellor Efsons blade? the captains said, but before he
could answer, Worm had launched himself into the group of soldiers, impaling the
captain through the heart.
F fool! In the name of House Sonsong, you will die! One of the soldiers
stammered. The soldier had a dagger through his neck before he could finish his
sentence.
Too slow, Worm said. He twirled around his sword behind him, decapitating
a soldier who was preparing a surprise attack as he yanked the dagger out of his
previous targets neck and kicked the body to the ground.
Are there any other volunteers? Worm said icily, in a callous rage, letting his
weapons hang limply from his grip. Blood rolled off of the edges of the blades,
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dripping onto the bodies on the ground, creating another massive pool of blood.
The remaining soldiers drew their weapons.
You cannot fight all of us! We we outnumber you fifteen to
A dagger hit his forehead, the blade driving through the skull and into the
fleshy recesses of the brain. It was not Worm who had thrown it.
I believe thats fourteen to one, Yogron said, perched in a hollow of the
palace wall where a stained glass window once stood.
Yogron! Worm exclaimed, bewildered at the thought of the cynical, hooded
soldier helping him.
Yes, you can stop staring. Ive brought help, Yogron said, jumping down
from the window and landing on his hands and feet on the ground. Suddenly, the
corpses of the soldiers that Worm had already killed began to shake and quiver, and
suddenly, a skeletal hand burst out of one. The skeletons of the bodies were
emerging, leaving their old flesh behind and answering to a new master.
I see that you have met my army, Arrhennians the voice of an old man
said. An imposing man in black and red robes stepped forwards, supporting himself
on a twisted and wizened staff that appeared older than the man himself. Kill
them, my minions.
Ah, Nameless. I see that you could make it as well, Yogron said.
It seems I could, the man that Yogron had called Nameless said, while
watching his skeletal minions destroy and devour the Arrhennians, new skeletons
constantly being raised from the dead bodies.
Who are you? Worm said, looking at the old man. And what kind of magic
is that?
Ah, obviously you have never witnessed the necrotic arts. A beautiful school
of magic, if you are attracted to the aroma of death, the Nameless said. Move
forth and support the Nastholans, minions!
He is the lord of The Syndicate, Yogron said. You are of great interest to
him, and instead of bringing you to him, he decided to come here.
Yes; that is true, my friend. Yogron tells me that you call yourself Worm?
I dont know my real name, or I imagine I wouldnt be in that situation, would
I? Worm said, narrowing his eyes.
Ah, ah yes. You do not know who you are yet. Very curious, the Nameless
said, smiling. Come with me. We shall fight first, and speak later.
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You know who I am? Worm said, his eyes widening. The one thing he had
searched for what he had searched for for his entire life it was within his grasp!
Worm, that is something you must figure out for yourself. And you will, if we
survive this battle, the Nameless said, walking out of the door, now covered in the
ripped open, boneless bodies of the Arrhennian soldiers.
No. I want to know now Ive wanted to know my entire life, you cannot
deny me that! Worm shouted at the mysterious man known as The Nameless, rage
surging through his veins
No, the Nameless said curtly. Your destiny speaks great, great things for
you, Worm. I will accompany you to where you must go to find your identity, that is,
after this battle is over.
The battle Worm said, frowning.
Yes, Yogron said. He had been so quiet that Worm had forgotten that he
was there. Nastholo it is very likely that without the help of every soul in the city
that she will fall.
Fall back! Dragomir yelled. He motioned his hand back towards the
Engineers Guild. You, Demonsthes. Tell as many civilians as you can to take cover
in the Engineers Guild Hall. The rest of us will hold them back.
Dragomir and most of the remaining Nastholan army was being backed into a
corner a relatively small corner at that. The Arrhennians were advancing like a
menacing thunderstorm, not the kind that creates a wondrous spectacle miles
away, but the variation in which bolts of lightning crush the ground with impact
right in front of you. Not surprisingly, this is precisely the type of spell that the
Arrhennian Mages were casting.
As soon as their Battlemage Unit had entered the city through the North Gate
(they had decided to surround the city before entering), darkened clouds began to
spread only yards above the highest point in Nastholo, drenching the ground with
bullet-like rain and occasionally frying a soldier or two Arrhennian or Nastholan
with a lightning bolt.
A mixed squadron of Arrhennians was advancing towards Dragomirs army,
their captain had his helmet visor pulled over his head (Dragomir assumed that it
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was to keep the elements of the storm out of his face), so Dragomir couldnt see the
face of his enemy.
Surrender! We outnumber you ten to one! Dragomir shouted, holding a
spear above his head.
Ten to one? The Arrhennian captain said. Dragomir could only imagine
seeing a smirk behind his helmet. Your whole army outnumbers my squadron ten
to one? How pitiful. Our army outnumbers yours one hundred to one. Your army is
too small to do anything to us!
His army may be Dragomir looked up, and behind him, he saw three
figures: Yogron, Worm, and a tall, robed man holding a wizened staff. Dragomir
could only imagine that this was The Nameless, the lord of The Syndicate. but
mine is not, The Nameless finished. Dragomirs eyes widened as he saw the
enormous horde of creatures following The Nameless. There were skeletons,
ghouls, and undead bodies in the masses, some wearing remnants of Arrhennian
armor, some wearing Nastholan armor, some wearing the clothes of peasants.
So, Captain, the Nameless rasped, glaring at the Arrhennian squadron.
Will you surrender now?
Wh what are you? What sort of dark arts are you the Arrhennian
started, staggering back.
Its called the Necrotic Arts, and I refer to it as a slightly beige color of art
myself, not entirely dark. Now, are you prepared to die? The Nameless said. He
snapped his fingers, and his undead army released itself on the Arrhennians.
Convenient, isnt it?
Dragomir! Its good to see you again, Worm said, nodding to greet
Dragomir.
Ah, Sir Worm. I see that you have completed your task and made it out
alive, Dragomir said. Now, with you three in the game, it seems we have a
chance. We must secure the North Gate and the South Gate to stop the influx of
Arrhennian soldiers, and
General! General Vaguston! a rasping and panting voice said. Dragomir,
hearing the sound of clanking armor, turned around.
Yes, Demonsthes? What is it?
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The Arrhennians theyve taken the residential district! Theyre
slaughtering citizens! Demonsthes shouted, still panting. He put his hands on his
knees, and fell to the ground.
What!?! Dragomir shouted. The Arrhennians monsters! I never thought
that they would be heartless enough to kill civilians!
Do not despair, friend, The Nameless said. We will drive them out. Now, I
imagine that you know the path to the Residential District from here?
Of course, Dragomir said. Worm, Yogron! Lets move out!
Worm nodded, and began to dash alongside Dragomir. Yogron drudged
behind, and The Nameless had broken into a somewhat slow, tranquil jog, with his
undead army strolling behind him.
The sound of the pipe organ, harmonious and yet horrifically flat, echoed over
the entire town of Arr Efson, making the wooden walls of the houses shudder in both
fear and pain. The chilling song wafted through the Forest of Time, mingling with
the branches, violently blowing the leaves. The sound was coming from the top
room of the fortified wooden hall in the center of the town.
The robed mans fingers danced over the expertly carved and fashioned
wooden keys, pausing for emphasis every few seconds. His eyes were closed as he
played, and small strands of his hair blew in his face. His pale, practically non-
existent lips curved into a smile, and he lifted his fingers from the keys as he heard
the door creak open.
A fine morning, Brother, the man said to the ascetic who had walked
through the door. And how is the monastery?
The monastery is well, the ascetic said, bowing to the man. And how are
you, Sire Efson?
I am quite all right, the man named Vossler Efson said. His voice was as
smooth and chilling as the melody he had been playing on the organ.
Did you did you get the news? The ascetic asked him.
Yes, yes, Vossler said. He stuck out his arm, whistled, and a crow flew in
the window and landed on his shoulder. My associates get information to me
faster than anyone could.
So how are you?
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Father was a fool, Vossler said. I ought to personally thank the one who
killed him, as I would have probably done it myself.
What are you saying? How can you- The ascetic started. He seemed in
shock.
He was close to the High King. He fell under its influence, Vossler sang.
There was no conceivable way that he would not be killed by one of us.
One of us? The ascetic said.
Yes, Vossler said, smiling tranquilly. Us, as in the few who can see the true
evils that take place in this world. My true father was killed years ago.
Regardless there is someone here to see you, The ascetic said. A woman,
with her black hair cut to her shoulders with a crescent-moon pattern in the back
walked into the room. She bowed curtly to Vossler, her angelic face glowing.
I shall leave you to discuss matter the ascetic said, leaving the room.
He shut the door tightly behind him. Vossler walked over and slid multiple bolts
over the door.
Miss Amber Fenera what can I do for you? Vossler said, polishing his nails
on his robes.
Ambers face, which had been frozen with intensity up until this point, burst
into a grin.
The High King is dead, she said, with triumph in her voice.
The residential district was completely overrun. Dragomir, looking through
the gates, saw that the soldiers werent moving at all. Sadly, most of the citizens
were lying on the ground dead. The others were in the same state as the
Arrhennian soldiers.
These soldiers, The Nameless said, frowning. They do not look truly
normal.
The soldiers in the residential district did not look normal at all. Worm
glanced at them, and although he could not put his finger on it, something was
wrong.
Say, Yogron said. What ever happened to the Empress?
She took the military district, Dragomir said over the thundering rain. We
should meet up with her if we can get through here alive.
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Let us make haste then, The Nameless said, waving his hand. The corpses
of the peasants came back to life, in various warped and disconfigured forms, minus
the flesh. The risen skeletons began to hack at the still-as-stone Arrhennians with
splintered bones.
Very interesting, The Nameless said. They dont even seem to care.
Follow me then, Dragomir said. If your flesh-beasts can hold the soldiers
off, we should be fine.
Hold them off? More like use them as punching bags, Worm said. Lets
hurry up and find the Empress so that we can decide what to do next. Dragomir
nodded, and stepped forward into the gauntlet of motionless soldiers. Walking
through the groups of Arrhennians and undead, he seemed surprised that none of
them made a move to attack him.
Come on, Dragomir yelled back, stunned. I think that its safe.
Suddenly, Worm saw a figure running towards them in the mist and rain.
Upon closer inspection, found that it was the Empress, her young figure getting
closer and closer by the second. Run! She yelled, her voice echoing off of
the houses. Ronjok! Hes betrayed us!
Then he saw it the ground was slowly churning, grasping at the corpses of
both the Nastholans and Arrhennians indiscriminatorily. The reason why the
Arrhennians were strange-looking was because they had shafts of narrow stone
through their backs, and they were leaning against the walls dead.
Ronjok? The Nameless said. of the sands?
Get to the locomotives, Celia panted, finally approaching the group. We
can escape on a locomotive car theres no way Ronjok is killing everyone we
have to leave if we plan to strike back She then collapsed onto the churning
ground. Before the demonic hands of earth pulled her underneath the ground,
Dragomir lifted her up and flung the unconscious body over his shoulder.
To the locomotives! Dragomir roared, beginning to walk. The weight of
Celias body over his shoulder only slightly impedimented his movement as he
broke into a run. Weve been betrayed! Save who you-
Worm heard the army that they had left behind scrambling and screaming.
Apparently, this Ronjok (whoever he was) had attempted to, or succeeded in killing
them. After turning the corner, Worm concluded that the latter was truth.
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Wed better hurry, Yogron said, looking at the dead bones. Ive seen
enough death today for my entire life. Dragomir nodded, and the group ran
towards the locomotive stations behind the Engineers Guild Hall.
Vossler was surprised at the news. In fact, he was so surprised that Amber
could awaken him only after pouring six and a half buckets of cold water on his face.
What what did you say? Vossler said with his eyes wide. Did you say
that the High King, Arhos Deseon, is dead?
Yes, Amber said, smiling. Assassinated.
Assassinated? Vossler said, still getting over the shock.
Guess who Vizier Iorphes has called the chief suspect? Amber said, turning
grim.
Vossler felt the blood drain from his face, gulped, and helpfully pointed at the
mirror in the corner. Well then. He whispered. To Nas Oceana we go.
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PART II: Revelations
Bentleys eyelids flickered for a moment as he adjusted to the arid and
blinding light of Nas Oceana. He grumbled to himself and let his massive hand fall
to the ground. It almost scraped the dusty cobblestone streets of the market town.
One would think that at least someone would notice a man who was eight feet tall
(normally thirteen. He had gotten used to crouching so that he could walk through
doors), nine feet wide (from shoulder to shoulder. He had to walk sideways through
doors anyways), and ten feet ugly, but alas, one was wrong. Bentley knew that one
was wrong; because he had little trouble going anywhere he wanted without notice.
He sighed, and continued to plow through the masses of people. Nearing the
edge of a pier, he reached into a large metal collar on his neck and pulled out a bag.
He looked into the bag and pulled out a handful of shards and gems, letting them
run through his fingers and back into the bag. His last client had paid him
generously.
Bentley let the bag settle in his palm, and brought his other hand down on
the bag, smashing the shards and gems, grinding them to dust. He then threw the
bag into the ocean, as far out as his arm could manage.
Bentley did not value personal possessions.
Worm yawned and opened his eyes. He was leaning against something that
felt like wood. Funny, he thought, there wasnt any wood in locomotive cars.
Suddenly, he felt a staff hit him on the head twice.
Its about time youve awakened, The Nameless said.
Er where are we? Worm grunted.
Nas Oceana, a voice that sounded like the Empress said.
Empress? Worm said, standing up. He had apparently been leaned against
a wooden pillar in the middle of a gigantic pier to sleep. I thought you were out
cold.
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Empress? The voice said, and suddenly, Worm realized that the caramel
voice sounded nothing like the Empress. The correct title would be Baroness, if
you were to address me formally at all.
Worm spun around to see a woman leaning against another pillar. She had
long, gray-blue hair and appeared around twenty-five years old.
Lia Slatesong, the woman said. Dragomir spoke to me about you. Said
you were important.
Worm, he said, but had a feeling that she already knew what he called
himself.
Lia Slatesong was just about to speak, when Worm saw Dragomir and Celia
approaching from behind.
Come to think of it, Worm said, to no one in particular. Where did Yogron
go?
He said that he didnt want to continue this path of death, The Nameless
said. I have appointed him as the head of the Syndicate while I accompany you.
Accompany me? Where exactly are we going? Worm retorted.
Atrophes, The Nameless replied emotionlessly. He turned his head curtly to
Dragomir and Celia, who were now in the close vicinity of the group.
Ah, Worm. Youre awake, Dragomir said, nodding. I trust that you have
met Ms. Slatesong?
Worm nodded, and caught a glimpse of Lias face shining. So, why is it that
were going to Atrophes?
You are, Celia said. Dragomir and I have decided to go to Islyeon. We
must rally the Alderians and Fenlos for battle if we want to take back Nastholo from
that traitor Ronjok. Worm saw her eyes twitching, and felt an angry quiver in her
voice.
Youre mad, Worm said. I love it.
You are going to Atrophes to find your purpose, The Nameless said to
Worm. Worm held in laughter.
Good one, he said, reaching over to pat The Nameless on the back. His
hand was immediately whacked by The Namelesss staff. What was that for?
You will find what you most desire, and, in turn, your purpose, when you go
to Atrophes, The Nameless said. It is not, and was not, a joke, in any way, shape
or form.
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You could try and stop being so cryptic, Worm said, rubbing his hand.
This idea of yours, Amber grumbled, involved walking through miles of
desert?
Ah, no, Vosslers singsong voice said, his maroon velvet coat fluttering in
the sea wind. Shortcut.
The two Arrhennians walked down the cobblestone road that led to Nas
Oceana. Vossler, although putting on a front of toughness, was, in fact, as tired as
Hell and had to lean on his staff to walk any further. Suddenly, he heard a voice in
his head, one that he had heard several times in the past
Vossler. You are a very important child.
Im not a child, Vossler said. Unless you call twenty-one a and he
stopped when he realized that no one was listening to him.
You must seek the Ninth Son. Only then will you truly realize your purpose.
Only then will your destiny become clear.
What, as mud? Vossler had had this conversation before, many times
earlier in his life, and every night for the past few months.
See that you watch over Miss Amber Fenera. She is, perhaps, more
important than yourself.
Now shes a child; Vossler thought. Not even of age yet.
The Ninth Son waits for you now
Vossler had never heard that before.
Suddenly, his face felt very wet, and cold. Very, very cold. He opened his
eyes with a start, and said;
That gets very old, Miss Fenera.
It also gets more fun every time. Now, get your ass out of bed. We need to
get out of here, pronto.
Vossler nodded. He remembered that they had arrived at Nas Oceana the
other night, and they had rented a room in the inn. He pulled his maroon velvet
coat from a bedpost, slipping it over his black robes. He looked at Amber, with a
boyish grin that made him look ten years younger;
Ready to hijack a boat?
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Bentley was muttering curses to himself, pushing his greasy black strands of
hair from his face. No one, not even Bentley, knew why it was greasy. No one cared
to. He moved away from the pier that he had thrown his pay over, surprisingly
silent for his size. He reached into his collar and pulled a small piece of paper out
STRIOD DESEON
A single name had been written. The name of his next target.
While reading, her crashed into a strange man in a red velvet coat with
obscenely frizzed hair.
Oh, Im sorry, the man said. He had a teenage girl with him, and the both
looked as if they were in a terrible hurry.
Bentley grunted and continued to walk down his path, making sure to get in
front of the odd couple. He had a boat to catch. And by catch, he meant steal and
kill anyone who tried to stop him.
Here comes trouble, Dragomir said, glancing back at the two boats that
were moored to make sure that no one had stolen them. He then stared ahead the
road. Two Arrhennians, a man and a girl, were walking up the road. Worm saw
Dragomirs eyes lock with the red-velvet coated mans eyes, with contempt.
Well, Vossler said, well, well.
What is it? Amber said.
Those boats look decent, Vossler said. He was eying a pair of small black
boats that appeared to have steam engines. Both were sleek, compact, and
dangerous-looking.
Who are they? Amber said, motioning her head towards what appeared to
be a rag-tag group of travelers to Vossler. They were getting ready to board the two
ships.
Our targets, I guess, Vossler said, moving his eyes to lock in place with
those of the biggest man in the group of travelers.
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Bentley had silently snuck behind the group of people. They looked,
combined, more strange (and dangerous) than him. He also had seen the robed
man in the group who had looked, to him, very similar to a certain Lord of a certain
Syndicate.
Worm, can you hear me? The Nameless said. So the boy is called Worm,
Bentley noted. If The Nameless knows him, he must be important. We will depart
for Atrophes shortly Worm, are you even listening?
Atrophes?
Bentley began to think, and he walked forwards, then back. He then dove
under the water near the ship that The Nameless had said was headed to Atrophes,
and clung to the bottom of the ship. For once, he did not feel like killing to gain
passage.
Worm heard a loud splash, and he turned around to look at the boats. They
were all right.
Worm! Worm, listen to me! The Nameless said.
Yeah, what is it? Worm said, turning his head to face The Nameless.
Arrhennians, Dragomir said. The Empress and I should
Is that wait, The Nameless said. Wait here. They do not mean us harm.
You know them? Worm whispered. The Nameless nodded.
Dragomir, we should go, Lia said. Celia nodded.
Leave these dealings to the Syndicate. We will make our leave now Celia
said, stepping onto one of the black boats. Lia took Dragomirs hand and walked to
the end of the pier, near the boats dock.
Wait! the Arrhennian man yelled. Waaaait! The man ran up to the The
Nameless, his hands on his knees, panting. You dont happen to be going to
Islyeon do you?
Vossler! The girl scolded. I dont have much expertise in the field of
commandeering ships, but I know that asking first is definitely not the way to hijack
a boat!
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Maybe, Vossler said, panting, Theres no need to steal.
Yes, Vossler Efson; Ms. Amber Fenera, I cannot help but saying that I have
expected you here, The Nameless said.
Efson? Worm said, looking at Vossler. As in the late Chancellor Efson?
Ah, so it was you, Vossler said, staring at Worm. Thanks.
Wh-what? Worm said. Did you just thank me for killing
A traitor, my father, Vossler said. Evil, evil man.
But, but
Dont judge me by my race, Vossler sang. Just because Im from the West
doesnt mean that Im evil. Vossler mused for a moment. She isnt, either.
So why, then, Dragomir said, walking forward from the pier, are you
here?
For Ephoss sake, Amber interjected. Were people, are we not? This is a
market and a port. We mean no harm to
Were running away, Vossler said. Im under suspect for assassinating the
High King.
All of the faces in the room went white.
Suddenly, a clamor of armor could be heard in the distance. It looked as if
Vosslers statement had triggered an influx of Arrhennian soldiers, or perhaps they
had just followed the locomotive car to Nas Oceana.
Time to run, The Nameless said. Vossler, Amber. You are free to come
with us.
How do you know who we are? Vossler said, incredulous.
There will be time for that later. Come, The Nameless yelled. A shot from a
firestick landed on the pier, piercing a hole in the wood.
Or you could stick around, Worm said, sarcastically. He most definitely
didnt want them to stick around. He shot a quick glance at Amber.
Dragomir and his group had already gotten into their boat, and started the
steam engine. Vossler, Worm, and Amber ran towards the remaining boat, The
Nameless standing at the entrance to the pier, making sure that the other three got
onto the boat safely.
The roaring of the oncoming squad of Arrhennian soldiers could be heard
getting louder and louder
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Go! The Nameless shouted. Start the engine! Worm pulled the cord to
start the steam engine, and the boat began to slowly inch, getting faster and faster
every second
The Nameless jumped, landed in the water, and reached up a hand to grab a
metal bar on the side of the boat. He waved to the Arrhennian soldiers as they
became visible from the port, shooting their inaccurate firesticks into the water near
him.
Bentley was clutching to the bottom of the boat. His lungs were almost out of
air; he estimated that he had about five minutes before he drowned. He did as
much of a shrug as was possible underwater, and closed his eyes.
I suppose that we didnt have time for formal introductions on the pier, did
we? The Nameless said. His robes were dripping with ocean water as he climbed
aboard the small boat. He was squeezing the water out of his grey and black thin
beard.
Right, Vossler said, his chin resting on his fist. Well start with you. Who
are you, and why are we here?
Worm was sitting on the edge of the boat with his feet over the edge,
dangling in the water. He leaned his head back;
Thats what Id like to know, he said truthfully. Where in the flames of
Ephos are we going?
Im sorry, The Nameless said. I believe you both know me. My name is
Nameless, and I am the head of the Syndicate. We are going to the city of
Atrophes.
What a surprising revelation, Vossler said.
Now, be good children and get to know each other, The Nameless said,
walking into the cabin. This wont be your last journey together.
The three of them watched the door close behind the strange, nameless man,
and then began to look at each other.
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Amber Fenera, Amber said quietly. She had been leaning against the wall
of the cabin, silently until now. She pushed the rim of the oversized hat up,
revealing her eyes to the two other travelers. I am the sole daughter and heir of
the second Fenera branch family, she said with a smile.
Right. Im Worm, Worm said. Son of no one and bandit extraordinaire.
Pleased to meet you.
And Im Vossler, Vossler said, brushing a small amount of dust off of the
shoulder pad of his coat.
Pleasure, Worm commented. Now, it might just be me, but it looks like
you two dont really know whats going on either. I think all three of us deserve an
explanation as to why were on this boat and where exactly were going to. Vossler
nodded and stared at the cabin that the Nameless had meandered into, glowering.
Amber smiled and stared at the door. Worm just stared. They heard a splash
breaking the silence, perhaps a large fish or extremely odd-shaped swimmer
surfacing, and another splash of the thing retreating into the water. In the silence,
Worm took a small amount of his cluttered mind to think about how nice the cool
wind was at sea. He had never been out of the Nastholan Desert in his lifetime.
It looked like that was about to change drastically, for whatever reason The
Nameless had.
Amber was crying over the side of the deck.
The violet moon had recently risen, and it was resonating its aura of dark
light, pulsing over the placid water.
She had never known anything outside of the city of Arr Fenera before she
had been contacted by Vossler many years ago. Vossler had told her something
about listening to her elders, and that it was extremely important that she took
heed to what he had to say. The first time that she had left Arr Fenera to visit Arr
Efson, she returned to an assassinated father and a mother driven insane by grief.
She had lost her place in the city within the year she had left.
Amber reached behind her neck and gently pulled a chained topaz pendant
out from under her shirt. She looked into the flawless stone, and recalled the foggy
memories that she had about how her family had been like for the first ten years of
her life. She laughed in her throat, dropping the pendant into a small bag that was
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No, I will not kill you, Bentley said, that is, yet. You are not my target.
Im going to get help Amber said, slowly walking backwards towards
the cabin.
Listen, woman, Bentley growled. He was surprisingly swift while walking,
and reached Amber within seconds. He gripped her neck in his hand, pressing her
up against the wall of the cabin. If you tell anyone that Im here, I will crush your
skull and throw your body into the Sea of Memories. Is that clear?
Wh why are you yes Amber said. The giant was constricting her air
passages, she couldnt breathe, and she had no option but to oblige to his demands
for the moment.
Good. I will be watching you, Bentley said. Now, is there anywhere under
the deck I can sleep? Ive been swimming for hours.
Ameus, why are you doing this? the voice said. Worm was sitting in a small
room that might as well have been a prison cell. There was a bed, a small crystal
light on the ceiling, and a window that opened about ten feet above the waters
surface.
What exactly am I doing? Worm said, turning his dagger in his hand.
Following a bunch of people that you dont know, the voice said. Its funnythat you even trust a man who wont give you his name.
Trust? Who said anything about trust? Worm said, sitting down on the small
bed. I wouldnt trust him farther than I could throw my dagger.
I know you, the voice said. Suddenly, Worm felt the presence of another
person in the room. I know you and I can see that you trust him.
Who are you? Why should I listen to you when I cant even Worm noticed
that, right behind him, another man was leaning against the wall of the room.
My name, he said, is Lyiar. He was about as tall as Worm, but there wassomething about him that made him look extremely menacing and dark. But never
mind this talk about that old fool. There is something important I have got to tell
you. Worm stared at the man in disbelief, moving the small flap of his turban from
over his right eye to make sure that he was seeing correctly. How did this person,
whoever he was, get on the boat?
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How are you here? Worm blurted out. Who are you?
I just told you who I am, Lyiar said, blowing at the golden hair that fell into
his eyes. Now, do you want to hear what I have to say or not?
You didnt answer my first question, Worm insisted.
Fine, Lyiar said. I guess that you dont need my advice.
No, Worm said, I suppose that you can tell me what you had to.
Good, Lyiar smirked. Now, I want you to listen carefully. You have to find
the Oracle of the Vaettir. Shes somewhere on the continent of Empheros. Thats
where youre heading, isnt it?
Worm nodded. If he remembered right, Atrophes was on Empheros. So
what exactly is this Oracle of the Vaettir? Ive never heard of anything like that.
Thats what the message was, Lyiar said, smiling. He drew a blue saber
from his waist, and pointed it at the wall of the room. Now, I bid you farewell. We
will meet again. He slashed four lines in the wall, in the shape of a vertical
rectangle. The shape he had cut glowed for a moment, and was then replaced with
a black, jewel-encrusted door. Lyiar pushed it open and walked through, closing the
door behind him.
Wait! Worm said. What kind of help was that?
But it was too late, as the door had already sunken into the wall and
vanished. Worm stared at what he had just seen, and thought over what Lyiar had
said to him. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed onto the bed.
Worms jaw was shattered; salty-sweet blood was running down from both
corners of his mouth. He heard a thousand screams from behind him. Turning, he
saw that the eldritch wail had come from the clacking mandibles of a gigantic beast
that was rapidly approaching from behind. It emitted another thousand-scream
screech, its insectoid tails flailing wildly in the air. It was getting closer now, but
Worms feet were frozen in place, he tried to scream, but only a gurgle of blood
responded to his impulses. He suddenly realized that he had an odd, red-bladed
sword in his hand. He raised it as the beast rampaged his way, futilely pointing it at
the monsters mammoth pincers
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