the nameless

8/14/2019 The Nameless

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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.


18/43

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.


19/43


20/43

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


21/43

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.


22/43

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


23/43

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.


24/43

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,


25/43

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.


26/43

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


27/43

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?


28/43

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?


29/43

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.


30/43

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.


31/43

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.


32/43

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.


33/43

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?


35/43

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.


36/43

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!


37/43

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


38/43

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.


39/43

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


40/43


41/43

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?


42/43

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


43/43

the nameless

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