V06E2 The Journey

By A. C. Karzun

Following the events of The King’s Chosen, El’Fury, Lance and Cat travel to the city of their births to find out who they really are. After finding the items left by his parents, El’Fury discovers that they were in fact members of an alien race, part of a team of explorers. Hoping to learn more about both his parents and his people, the three of them travel across several continents, looking for the items that the explorers have left behind. Along the way, they talk to Deities and Demons. They meet up with some of the remaining members of the Rallicean expedition team. They spend time in the colourful and exotic lands and cities belonging to the various peoples that populate the world. And travel by new forms of transports, such as trains and steamboats. Eventually ending up at the spacecraft that brought the Ralliceans to this planet.
As they travel, they hope to make peace with their past, trying to not only work out who they are now, but who they wish to be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. C. Karzun
• Release date: Jun 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463223505

A. C. Karzun

Writer. Philosopher. Human. In that order.

Book preview

Synopsis

Following the events of The King’s Chosen, El’Fury, Lance and Cat travel to the city of their births to find out who they really are. After finding the items left by his parents, El’Fury discovers that they were in fact members of an alien race, part of a team of explorers. Hoping to learn more about both his parents and his people, the three of them travel across several continents, looking for the items that the explorers have left behind. Along the way, they talk to Deities and Demons. They meet up with some of the remaining members of the Rallicean expedition team. They spend time in the colourful and exotic lands and cities belonging to the various peoples that populate the world. And travel by new forms of transports, such as trains and steamboats. Eventually ending up at the spacecraft that brought the Ralliceans to this planet.

As they travel, they hope to make peace with their past, trying to not only work out who they are now, but who they wish to be.

Valderia

V06

The Journey

by

A. C. Karzun

Valderia

V06E2 The Journey

by A. C. Karzun

Copyright 2019 ACKarzun

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Table of Contents

Overture

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Coda

Books in the Valderia series

Overture

El’Fury:

The man clad in black and red steps from the shadows and moves towards me. He grins, showing teeth covered in blood. There is malice burning in his eyes, as well as sadistic lust. He raises his weapon: a knife with its blade at a strange angle. I try to scream, but no sound comes from my mouth. Or maybe I am screaming, but The Noise in my head will not let me hear it. As he brings the weapon down on me, I hear my father laugh. Not my real father, but the man who took me from my parents. The man I served from birth. The man I killed.

I awake with that laugh still echoing in my head, alongside the hum of The Noise. I leave my wife in our bed, and I head out of our small hut, into the cool winter night. The air is thick with the smell of the ocean, and I close my eyes, as I let the air softly flow around me. Whatever weights I carry on my shoulders drop, and for a moment even The Noise dies down enough for me to pretend that it is not even there.

My bare feet sink into the beach’s sand, as I head towards the ocean, now lit by first light of dawn. Out there lie the answers to the questions I have, and soon we will venture out to find them.

A figure rises from the dark water, he is tall and broad, his black hair long and slick. As is the full-grown beard on his face. His green eyes glisten as much as his skin does, and his smile is more radiant than the sun. At least, it is to me. And equally warm.

You’re up early. He says, once he is close.

Bad dreams. I reply solemnly.

He nods and we start walking down the beach. Still the same themes?

More or less. I keep seeing myself. Like I want to kill myself. I look at him, but he knows it is just a dream, so he has no fear of what I said. Or end who I am.

Find out who you are?

What I am, first, I think.

We all have these nightmares, El. We were all monsters once. Still are, really. And probably always will be. It’ll take us all a long time, to find a place for it.

You seem to have less of an issue. But then you were always less of a monster.

He does not reply, and we continue walking, the words still hanging between us.

Monster. Is that what I am? Is that all that I am? Can I live with that? These questions come throughout the day. Everyday. And in the nights, I dream them. Lying next to the woman I love, who awakes with as many tears, as often as I do. Maybe less. She is so much tougher, and I have so much more of a need to change. I still find myself feeling what I used to feel. Desiring what I used to desire. I miss the blood. Esli help me, I miss it so much. The screams. The power. The control. I see the images when I close my eyes. I am still the man I am running from. And so, he keeps up. And I feel like I will never outrun him.

Four more days. Cat quietly says.

I nod. Four more days. Then we go out there, to find those answers.

Chapter One

El’Fury:

I once knew him as Cut’Throat, now it is Pinof, the name his parents gave him. He and I used to be enemies. Or rivals, at least. Now he is one of my best friends. He is a far better man than me. He used to be so mean, but I managed to far exceed any cruelty he may have exhibited as a kid. If anything he ever did could even be considered cruelty. The man, wearing the scar I gave him, hugs me so tight that it hurts. But I do not mind, this might well be the last time that we see each other. And I am not exactly holding back myself. Or his wife after. I think her hug might be even tighter. We take our time saying our goodbyes to these men and women who are our family. Our brothers and sisters. If not by blood, then in blood. Sweat. Tears. Hearts and souls. Through and through, blood and bones.

And then they break my heart. As I take one look back at them across the deck, from the top of the gangplank, I see them, straight-backed, fierce, powerful, proud. Saluting me. One last sign of their respect for me, not as their commander, but as their leader. I salute back, taking the act in the spirit in which it was intended. This will be the last time that they salute me. And I am glad that it is as my family, and not as my soldiers.

The three of us are slow moving figures as we step from the gangplank and onto the misty night-time docks. We carry no luggage, but our past weighs heavy on our shoulders. As do our weapons. Each one of us is carrying at least three weapons. The short-haired blonde to my side has a full metal spear. The tall man on my other side has two swords on his back, and I have both an el and a sword, which must seem to be slung the wrong way around, as if for me the el is my primary weapon. We move through the shadows with determination but not haste. None of us really know what we will find here. And we fear that we might find nothing. Despite our military gait, none of us are wearing uniforms, not anymore. Instead we wear practical, plain-looking clothes of leather and cloth. And heavy boots, which do not make as much noise as one might expect across wood. All three of us know how to move with silence.

We move past the guards here without being noticed. All three of us remember the last time that we were here, as soldiers. The streets we killed in. The castle we took. And before that, all three of us were born here. And stolen from here. So, we return here to find our pasts. And the past of a friend who is no longer with us. A brother. This is also where I first met the only person I truly regret killing. I do not even think that we spoke to each other that day. But my memory is hazy on that. Other things I remember clearer than I would like to. Like what I did to his lover. And for no other reason than that he loved her. To take what was his. He changed my mind, but it happened too late. By the time that I understood, or at least could try to understand, he was dead and buried. By me.

I can barely recognise the man staring back at me from the mirror, and maybe that is a good thing. It is not just that I have shaved my hair, which is a necessity for me, now that we are back in The Kingdom. The patch of white above my right eye makes me all too recognisable. Just like Cat, I am letting my beard grow, though nowhere near as long as his. Under High King Mirrus we were to keep ourselves clean shaven and now that we are free, almost all of the men have been letting their facial hair grow, with a variety of different results. Pinof grew a goatee and found that he has grey in it. One more reminder that we are all so much older than our age.

Dann strokes my cheek and smiles at me. I smile back. Then his skin starts to fall from his face and hand. His flesh starts to melt, and there are fires where his eyes were. I try to push him away, but his bony hands clasp my throat. I try to scream, but no sound comes out. I kick him, and he lets go. I stumble away and watch in horror as he is reduced to a skeleton. Before his bones crumble to dust, he tries to say something, but I cannot understand it.

I’m alright. I whisper to Lance.

She kisses me on the cheek. Let me know if you aren’t.

I will. I reply, as I get up. You too?

Of course. I can barely see her face in the dark, but I can hear the soft smile in her voice. I love you. She whispers, as I get out of bed.

I love you too. I say, as I go to the window, and pull back the curtains. I’m going to church.

Alright. I hear her say from beneath the blankets. And I can hear her trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.

With hands shaking from the cold, I light one of the candles by the statue of Esli, Goddess of Gravity. I take a few steps back, kneel and fold the middle three fingers on both hands, so only my pinkie and thumb are sticking out. I place my hands together and raise them to my brow, then lower them to my lips, and finally rest them against my sternum. Fair Esli, hear my prayer.

I do. A voice beside my replies.

I stand up and face Her.

She looks like a Valderian with brown skin and dark brown hair and eyes. And as She does whenever I have seen Her, She is wearing simple work clothes.

You know why I am here?

Of course.

But You cannot help me?

In this case, there will be no need. And I have no concerns in telling you that what you are going to do, is the right thing to do.

Is that one of those things again?

She chuckles. Not this time. The items you seek will provide you with both answers and more questions.

I nod. I’m glad to hear that. I sigh and smile at Her. Thanks for telling me.

I need you to remember something.

Of course, whatever You wish.

Dirk Vagol.

Dirk? Vagol?

Axe’s uncle. Lance and Cat will find their parents. But not Axe’s. They are in a communal grave. But if you wish to, you may tell Dirk of his sister’s son.

Dirk Vagol. I frown. Sounds familiar somehow.

You will remember before you return to your wife. She has a strange look on Her face, and I wonder if it is because She is a Deity, or if it is merely because She continues to appear to me as a Valderian.

I suppose I will then. And that look? On our first meeting, in a church very much like this one, I found that I do not need to communicate with Her using words. But I usually do, I just make sure not to be surprised by Her knowing everything I am thinking, and feeling, anyway.

She smiles. Would you like to have children with her?

I shake my head. No, I don’t think I’d make for a particularly good father.

If either of you changes your mind, pray to me, and I will bless you.

I want to ask, but I do not.

She answers anyway. Yes, it is you. And before you leave this city, you will understand why. But also understand this, it will not affect your child. Thon will be a Gorth. And with that, she is gone.

I just stand there, letting it sink in. I am not a Gorth. I nod to myself, that explains more than a few things. And hopefully, by the time we leave Brinkon, I will understand it better.

As the sun rises above the city landscape, I stop and sit down on a bench by a small park. I remember this place. Or I think that I do. Once, a lifetime ago, I was here. We marched into Brinkon, me and my best friends, and we conquered it. Re-conquered? Took it back for the man who originally took it. I smile to myself, at least my life has never been boring. Then I feel a great swell of sadness. The last few months have been peaceful, quiet. And I think that I prefer it to the din that came before. An interesting life would appear to be more of a curse than a blessing. Is that not a saying? ‘May you live an interesting life.’ A wish of ill will.

The first people start to appear in the streets. I watch some of them as they pass, just regular people with boring, regular lives. These are the ones that I killed for. The ones whose loved ones I killed. Maybe? When I think back across the red and black of my life, I wonder; was I truly so bad? I hope I mostly killed those who deserved it. But who determines that? I guess that I did. I wonder if the man that I was, would kill the man sat here. And I wonder what Dann would make of me now. He and I were very much alike, in many ways, and we were both aware of that. If Mirrus had not conquered these islands, he and I might very well have met and become friends. And after his death, I found out just how much we had in common, as both of us had parents who were killed by Mirrus. But there are also clear differences between us, which can be summed up in one simple truth: he was a better person than I will ever be.

I get up and slowly walk towards the university. As I pass through the streets of this city, memories come to me. I recognise small features. I remember small moments. The search for Kamrin. The first time that I met Dann. And the looks that people gave me. Now they all ignore me, then they would pretend to not see me, or they would give me a forced smile. And at the time I loved it, back then I thought that people should fear me. Now I see it as the ignorance, and arrogance, of youth. And they gave me respect. They made an effort to do so.

And I remember. Wharfmaster Vagol. ‘Call me Dirk.’ I never did, even as the man tripped over his words to call me ‘ser’. Axe’s uncle.

How far am I from the harbour?

Dirk? I ask.

Yeah. The man says as he turns to face me. His jaw drops and he looks around.

I’d like to talk to you. If I may?

About what? He asks suspiciously.

Your nephew.

My nephew? Now he is puzzled. Then sad and hopeful both at once. He asks quietly. Do you know where my sister is?

Something roughly the weight of a mountain hits me square in the heart. In my soul. I hang my head, ashamed. No. But I… She disappeared when this city was first conquered?

Yes. With her husband.

I look him straight in the eye and try to find the words. They’re dead. I say softly.

Did you…

No. But I know why you think that. She was killed by soldiers. And they took her son. He was a friend.

Dirk looks at me, trying to make sense of it all.

Do you know why we rebelled against Mirrus?

No. He holds me in a level gaze. But I’m grateful. Even more so now. My nephew, he was Chosen?

Axe. He was Axe.

He hangs his head and is quiet for a while. I let him process it. When he finally looks back up, he says, Thank you for telling me. I don’t know if you can understand this, but it means a lot to finally be able to put the uncertainties to rest. When I have no reply, he asks, He was good, wasn’t he? He did good?

He was one of our best. Better than me. And I hope we did well by The Kingdom despite the man we served.

I sit on a tall wall and look around. The city to one side and the ocean to the other. Just like where we grew up. Out there, the world. And in me? Once it was duty. Now it is purpose. They are here, somewhere, the items that tie me to my past. As I have gotten closer to owning them, I have become more apprehensive of doing so. They are from my past, and I am working on who I am to become. But they should help me understand what I am. Esli told me that I am not a Gorth, and that I will know what I am. But do I need to know? How much can it matter? I look at the city and at the tall building that holds the items. If nothing else, I should probably take them just to make sure that they are no longer in the hands of The Kingdom. Good as Queen Irina hopefully is, these things are not for them. I catch myself doing it. I am not a Gorth. I am not one of them. I am different. I burst out laughing. For so long I hated the name. Then I took pride in it. Now I know it is merely a descriptor. I am different.

I stand up and head for that tall building.

They have been moved around. Sent from place to place, and person to person. No one knows what they are or what they do. Some people suggested that they might be