Dawn of Fire

By C.B. Vaughn

The ancient and enigmatic continent of Zannondale had seen its fair share of sorrow. Tortured and despoiled by the wars that had devastated its once glittering realms, it still felt the aftereffects centuries later. And now, from far back into the past, a new and more powerful evil than ever is rising, one that threatens to turn Zannondale’s fields to dust and her cities to ashes.

The brutal and merciless Baron Chronus has only one desire and that is to rule over all, no matter what. And for two young men, Dorian and Dain, it means the end of their carefree lives forever. Together with their mentor Julius and the ferocious warrior Kara, the two young men embark on a quest to defeat a shadowy evil, avenge the fallen and uncover long-forgotten secrets of a tragic and hidden past. They have the courage to face the evil that threatens to destroy them, but do they have the strength to defeat it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BlackBerry Publishing Group
• Release date: Mar 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781951197117

Book preview

C.B. Vaughn

Dawn of Fire

First published by Blackberry Publishing Group 2020

Copyright © 2020 by C.B. Vaughn

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

1. Sparks

2. The City of Ruins

3. Kara

4. Shipwrecked

5. The Hidden Underground

6. The King of Cowards

7. A Time of Mourning

8. The War Has Found You

9. Escape is Futile

10. So Close, Yet So Far

11. A Tempting Proposition

12. Tortured Soul

13. The Impenetrable Fortress

14. A Brief Respite

15. The Sanctuary

16. A Shattered Past

17. The Secret Catacombs

18. Hidden Potential

19. Echoes of the Past

20. Droragorian Skill

21. Double Trouble

22. What Really Matters

23. The Calm Before the Storm

24. War Bound

25. Castle Siege

26. The Heart of Darkness

27. Sinister Confrontations

28. A Life of Regret

29. Horizon of Hope

About the Author

1

Sparks

Fire. It is the rawest of the four elements. Both beautiful in its form and deadly enough to scorch all that it touches. It may warm the hearts and bodies of those closest to us or quickly wither away a lifetime of accomplished darlings. Tonight, it chose the latter. A dense cloud of creeping smoke billowed into the sky, bringing with it the unmistakable smell of cinder. Hair-raising wails of the fire’s victims shattered the tranquil hum of the burning city’s nearby forest.

The scent of smoke lingered in the crisp night air, clinging to the foliage like a suffocating fog. A lone girl with hair as red as the fires behind her ran crying along the narrow path ahead of her, stumbling on protruding roots, trying to escape the reach of the angry blaze. The frequent screams of her once-revered friends and acquaintances sent sharp stings of fear pulsing through her, each more painful than the last, as if shedding her very soul. Fighting her mounting exhaustion, the terrified girl forced herself away from the fiery inferno engulfing her once peaceful city one reluctant step and pant at a time. With each wail from the smoldering husk, she cried harder, forcing herself to run faster.

Find her! Find her now! A woman’s voice carried in the distance. It was calculated in its tone, yet shaky somehow, at odds with itself. As if feigning strength yet yielding to madness.

The girl continued down the shadowed path until she had eluded her pursuers. The darkness of the twisted thicket had taken her, welcoming her deeper into its confounding, bending pathways. Her pursuers’ shouts were soon reduced to distant echoes, as were the screams. Only the solitary darkness of the forest remained. She was alone. The young woman stopped to catch her breath, pressing her right hand against the twisted wood of the tree beside her. She felt it…the wood. A pang of sudden guilt crippled her. She was alive, yet somehow ashamed. The screams began again, but these screams were different. These wails were inescapable. They echoed inside her head like a lingering aria, an illusion that couldn’t be shaken. The distraught young woman covered her face to shield her flowing tears, quietly cursing her weakness. She expelled a pained moan, nearly buckling under the painful realization of her loneliness, and the gravity of all she had lost.

Find her! The woman’s voice carried in the distance again. The young girl wiped her eyes and continued through the woods. The dark of the

wilderness retook her, and she vanished into the void.

That very night, many miles away, a boisterous tavern of rowdy regulars hoisted their glasses cheering, the result of yet another drunken night of excitement and tales. Two young men came stumbling through the doors, both sauced from a night of debauchery, with fixed grins that reached the entirety of their faces. They reeked of alcohol, and their stances were shaky at best. The Gulping Grotto was a favorite of theirs, often sneaking off after their adoptive father had retired early for the evening. One of the young men, Dorian, stood over six feet with a confident cock to his shoulders, despite his drunken lean. His hair was brown, yet so dark it could nearly be mistaken for black in the right lighting. His face was youthful, eighteen at the most. A distant glare of drunken euphoria clouded his light brown eyes, shielding them behind a glossy gleam. Dorian’s best friend and brother, not by blood but by closeness, Dain, was shorter than he was, just under six feet. Dirty brown, almost blonde hair dangled from his head, unkempt and wild. Dain’s face carried a more comical aura, one that appreciated a sword for wit, as evident by his growing grin of self-satisfaction. At the same time, he formulated the latest of his terrible attempts at humor. His glossy blue gaze panned toward Dorian, accompanied by a snicker that Dorian knew all too well. Hey, Dorian…what do you call a penguin’s head? he murmured, chuckling again.

Lay it on me, Dorian slurred back.

The tip of the icebird. Dain burst into laughter, amused by his joke to the point of crying.

I don’t get it. Don’t you mean iceberg?

Yeah…that’s the joke.

That’s not funny…that’s not funny at all, Dorian said, stumbling.

Come on! I’m giving you gold here. Whatever…comedy is subjective anyway. I bet the tavern girls would eat it up.

One, no, they wouldn’t. Two, you tried that already and failed miserably. Three, that was objectively stupid and finally, four, isn’t a tavern girl like a myth to you? Have you ever actually touched one, Dain? I hear they’re tough to approach in the wild. I hear they don’t like to be bothered in their natural habitat of work, and I hear that they can smell…desperation. But you’re a professional, so that shouldn’t be too hard for you, Dorian replied, drifting into a playful whisper. Dain’s lack of sexual prowess was often a sore spot. As Dorian’s retort dawned on him, Dain’s smile gradually became a sarcastic scowl. Oh…good one, Dorian. Make fun of the sexually handicapped.

That was called sarcasm, Dain. That’s comedy gold. I thought you’d appreciate that.

Hey! Which one of you assholes stole my gerbil? The tavern owner Madsen said from inside.

Uh, oh… Dain whispered.

What do you mean, uh- before Dorian even finished his question, he spotted the tiniest of little eyes glaring up at him from Dain’s pocket,

wiggling his cheeks and squeaking. Dorian silently pointed to the gerbil.

That’s not mine, Dain whispered.

No shit…

Dain nestled the gerbil in his hands. Its fur was so soft it was akin to a modern marvel in Dain’s drunken eyes. "Wow, he feels like a pile of feathers.

He’s so cute." Dain rubbed the gerbil’s nose with his own as Dorian stood swaying.

Don’t rub him like that. He probably eats his poop.

Look at those eyes, Dorian. Would those eyes eat poop?

The gerbil turned toward Dorian, wiggling his nose and squeaking.

Point taken little fellow. Give him a chance, he’s a little off.

What? Hey…you making fun of me again? And when did you learn to talk to gerbils? How many drinks does that take?

Six, I think, but we need to give the gerbil back to Madsen before we get chased out of here again.

Oh, come on. The last time was an accident. We just knocked over some barrels. No big deal.

Whenever an action costs someone money, Dain, it’s always a big deal.

Madsen poked his head through the door, searching for his missing pet and spotted the animal in Dain’s hands. The gerbil squeaked, happy to see his owner. Hey! Is that my gerbil? You little shits. Dain glanced in Dorian’s direction and realized that Dorian was already ten paces away, sprinting. Good luck, Dain. I’ll remember you, he yelled. Dorian was so off-balance that he weaved across the path like a rogue kite taken by the

wind. He clipped a stack of barrels, sending him crashing to the ground. The barrels wobbled and fell over, scattering around Dorian in a calamity of noise. Dain…I think I fell! Dorian yelled back after a long, sullen groan. Dain chuckled and handed Madsen his gerbil. I have no idea how that got in my pocket.

Dain…

Yeah, I know.

Dorian examined one of the fallen barrels and chuckled. Hey…is this White Gully Spirit! Can I have some! Dorian slurred.

I think you’ve had enough. With all this ruckus, it’s a wonder Julius hasn’t nailed you too yet for reckless endangerment.

Sorry. I honestly don’t remember how the gerbil got in my pocket.

I don’t care. Just get yourselves home safely. I don’t want to have to come to fetch you out of the chicken coop again.

You got it, Madsen. We’ll be home in no time. Dorian and I have cat blood. We always land on our feet. Dain took a wrong step off the first step and immediately collided with the dirt groaning. Madsen shook his head. Cat blood, huh? Those two are doomed, he murmured and stepped back inside.

Dorian! Dain slurred.

Yeah?

I think I fell…

Yeah…

The two young men stumbled to their feet and shuffled home together, laughing. It was a regular occurrence, one that would soon change when life was thrust upon them in a way they could have never predicted.

The next morning, Dain awoke to the sounds of birds chirping. Leaves fell from the limbs above him, gracefully fluttering to the ground and into the nearby stream with the aid of the fall breeze. Echoes of laughing children and morning ramblings from the village people carried through the air. The ground was hard, and periodic clucks shook Dain from his morning haze. Dain realized he was outside, instead of in the warm bed he thought he had fallen asleep in. A flock of roaming chickens pranced around Dain clucking, some confused and others curious about his presence. Oh…damn it…not again… Dain clutched his pounding head as he stood. After a quick dusting, he shuffled back toward the small home he shared with Dorian and his adoptive father, Julius. The sun had yet to rise as Dain crawled through his open window. So, this is how I got out, He mumbled. Dain crawled back into bed and wrapped himself in his sheets. Just as he had begun to get comfortable, the first rays of the morning sun crept through the window.

Dain raised his hand against the blinding intruder.

Every time! He moaned. No matter how many times he had moved his bed, the sun always seemed to find him, awakening him every morning like a playful brother. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, sighing, contemplating the days’ coming hardships. A glance toward the bed across the room confirmed that Dorian was still asleep. Half of Dorian’s body dangled from the bed, while the other half remained tangled in a complex network of sheets. The light from the window lurched deeper inside, partially lighting the humble living space. Despite its lack of elegance, the room held a lighthearted charm. It was cozy and familiar. The room itself was decorated with little more than a few wall lamps, an old oak table, a dresser, armor racks, an old red rug frayed around the edges, and their beds, but to them, it was enough. Dain ducked beneath the sheets groaning to escape the growing light.

Boys…are you awake? A familiar voice called, entering the room with heavy footsteps.

Yeah, Julius. I’m awake. Dorian’s still out though, Dain replied, agitated by Julius’ sudden intrusion.

He can rest a while longer, and then I want you to wake him. We have a lot of training ahead of us today.

Dain groaned. He ruffled his hair and buried his face back underneath his sheets. Okay…we ’ll be there soon, he replied, his voice muffled against the sheets.

The kindly gentleman always seemed to carry an aura of calm that often helped him through decidedly hairy situations of negotiation. His half greyed brown goatee and beard covered a fair face of an experienced man familiar with hardship.

Julius was a man of average height. Despite his age, he looked younger than he was, often taking offense to any mention of the contrary. Julius had taken the boys into his home twelve years prior, following the deaths of their parents when they were six. He prided himself as a man of his word and never shirked a chance to help a friend in need, especially one long gone.

He welcomed the boys into his home with open arms, even trained them in combat from the moment they could hold swords. Julius wanted them to be strong so that they could survive the bandit infested countryside. The continent of Zannondale was once a place of splendor, stability, and peace. However, such ideals only linger for so long. A splintering race war, two hundred years prior, shattered the harmony throughout the continent. In the years following the war, kingdoms were formed, and new leaders were appointed to quell the chaos born of the Great War.

Despite the appointed rulers’ best efforts to mend the rifts between the people, Zannondale became a home for thieves, mercenaries, and depraved souls with a craving for malicious intents. Throughout the last two millennia, many wars and conflicts left the continent ravaged and scarred by battle. Many cities were burned to the ground, and countless lives were lost after bloody centuries of conflict between the kingdoms.

In the wake of the destruction, a vicious baron named Chronus rose to power. At first, he was as charismatic as any great man, just as many terrible souls are before showing their true selves. He seemed as if he were two different people at times, sometimes fair, yet sometimes so cruel it terrified even his subordinates. There were rumors that he would often murmur to himself in moments of quiet as if carrying on a conversation with some unseen phantasm. The kingdoms of Zannondale feared him, and stories of his cruelty horrified many throughout the continent.

His sadistic tendencies grew more ruthless as time passed as if consumed by the very spirit of wrath and vengeance. Despite the war and turmoil, life still managed to retain some fragile semblance of innocence and safety in quiet nooks of the land. Dain and Dorian resided in a secretive little haven called Genrou’s Grotto, where Julius had raised and trained them for years.

After nearly ten minutes had passed, Dain sat up in his bed, supporting himself with his arms. Dorian mumbled in his sleep across the room. An occasional twitch of his arm shook his sheets.

Hey, Dorian. Wake up, Dain whispered.

Dorian was unresponsive. Dain shook his head, knowing his friend would rather sleep all day than face Julius’ brutal training regimen, a sentiment he understood all too well. Dain rolled to the edge of his bed, trying to escape the tangle of sheets knotted around his ankle. Let go… he murmured. With one decisive tug Dain freed himself and jumped to his feet with a quick swivel. He landed with a stumble, managing to steady himself. Like a kitty, he said with a wide smile of dexterous satisfaction. Dain stretched his stiff body, yawning, before wandering to the corner of the room where his armor lay on a rigid stand. His curious blue eyes rolled toward his greaves, then back toward Dorian moments later. Dain’s mouth creased from end to end. He quietly chuckled as he grabbed one of his greaves. Dain swiveled his hand front and back to gain momentum and tossed the greave toward Dorian’s bed with gritted teeth. The weight of the greave landing near Dorian’s feet shook the bed, jarring him awake.

Get away from her! Are we under attack? S–sword, where’s my sword? Dorian yelled, frantically wrapping himself deeper into his sheets. Dain doubled over laughing, clutching his stomach with both hands. Dorian’s eyes darted around the room before noticing the greave resting near his feet.

That wasn’t funny, Dain. You had me worried. I thought we were being attacked, Dorian scorned, clutching his pulsing head. Locks of his dark brown hair dangled between the cracks in his fingers. My head is killing me. We didn’t get into a fight last night, did we?

I don’t think so. There may be a few barrels that would beg to differ, though. They won that fight…kicked your ass, too. It was a landslide.

Got nothing on those stairs, though. I don’t remember much, but I clearly remember your face getting real intimate with the dirt last night after a bad step.

What can I say she fell for me.

Why are you so dirty?

Oh…yeah…well. Funny story…

Chicken coop?

Chicken coop. I don’t remember how I got there. The window was open when I woke up.

We have to stop drinking.

Said the man before taking another sip.

Yeah…yeah…

Julius wants us to get up. It’s time to train.

Couldn’t you have just let me sleep a few more minutes? I had a fascinating dream.

You were dreaming, huh? What about? Let me guess…the girls from the tavern last night?

Hey, hey, quiet. If Julius knew we went to the tavern last night, he would kill us both, Dorian whispered.

Aw, come on, Dorian. The worst he would do is make us train a little harder.

Listen, Dain. I’m older than you, so that makes me responsible for taking care of both of us. That includes making decisions that benefit us both.

Yeah…by like a month!

Still older.

Oh, well…I guess he’ll just kill you, then.

Dorian squinted his eyes, glaring back with his usual intensity.

Okay, dad, whatever you say, Dain replied, rolling his eyes.

I’m serious, Dain. Be quiet about it. If I have to do another sit-up, my abs are going to give birth to more abs. Agreed.

Okay. You got it. My lips are sealed. Not another word about it.

Dorian and Dain began their routine as usual, first, washing up and changing into their training equipment. Each passed the other equipment scattered in various corners of the room. It was second nature to them, a daily ritual of synchronicity. Dorian caught one of his boots and slipped it on before catching the other moments later. Dorian tossed Dain too many items at once, causing Dain to drop both his boots and his belt.

Really, man?

Gotta work on those hands. You’ll never get married with that kind of average.

Ha, ha…you’re a riot, Dorian. Maybe we should go on the road. Con a few people. With material like that, we’ll be rich by nightfall. Smartass, Dorian murmured with a laugh.

Dorian readied his lightweight armor while Dain combed the room for his missing sock. Both Dain and Dorian’s silver cuirasses were covered in dents and had lost their luster after many years of training. Dorian slipped on his snug-fitting brown and black jacket over his lightweight cuirass while watching Dain crawl across the ground, peeking under his bed, in search of his elusive article.

Have you seen my sock?

No. Maybe it got warped to another dimension or something.

You’re in rare form today. Keep that up, and I might have to make you vanish too.

Maybe it ran away after your little…recreational activity last night.

W…what?

I wasn’t asleep yet, Dain. It was before you crawled through the window to do something most foul.

Oh…well…I…have no idea what you’re talking about, stranger.

Uh-huh.

I can’t find it.

Funny thing socks…you can always just get another one.

All right, all right. I’ll get another. That’s so strange, though. They always just seem to vanish.

Once dressed, they left their sharpened silver swords on their racks and set off toward the training grounds through the nearby woods. Dain pondered what kind of training Julius could have prepared for them while Dorian dwelled on his dream.

Dorian seemed distant, more so than usual. It was very different from the jovial troublemaker he was the night before. Dain noticed his friend’s sullen mood almost immediately. Dorian was often in some sort of eternal stupor in the absence of a good drink, but Dain noticed a rare sadness in Dorian’s eyes that he seldom had seen before.

You okay? You seem down today, Dain asked.

Yeah. I’m fine. I just can’t stop thinking about that dream last night, Dorian replied, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

She must have been a real looker if she’s got you flustered like this.

It wasn’t about a tavern girl. I…It was about my mother.

Dain’s playful smile disappeared in an instant. The topic of parents was a touchy subject for them both.

I’m sorry for joking around so much. I didn’t know.

It’s okay, Dain. You can’t help it that you’re too ridiculous for your own good. Besides, you’re terrible at reading people.

What? I am not. I can read people.

Oh, really? Dorian questioned, raising his hand to his chin.

Yeah, really!

Dorian smiled and recounted the previous night in the tavern. "Okay.

How about Malina? In the tavern last night," he said with a smile.

I thought we weren’t going to mention last night again?

That’s beside the point. Anyway, Malina was all over you last night. She was shooting signals at you like arrowheads, and you didn’t even have a clue. Face it, Dain, you’re terrible at reading people.

That’s not true. Malina kept talking to me because I’m always so polite to her. We’ve known each other for years. She’s a good friend. Besides, she was drunk.

She only had one drink, Dain, and she blushed every damn time she spoke to you.

Fine then, genius…at what point in our conversation did she ever show any interest in me? Dain inquired, cocking his head in anticipation.

One, she smiled at you a total of six times. Trust me, I counted. Two, she mentioned that she would love to travel to a big city one day with someone special. She said that while she looked, you squared in the eyes and smiled. She even threw a giggle in there afterward. Three, she asked you if you had anyone special. When you said no, her face lit up like a firefly festival. Four, she’s always liked you, and I can’t believe you have never noticed. Finally, Five, you’re an idiot!

Dain realized the misread signals and slapped his forehead in embarrassment. Damn it!

Dain, you can’t afford to be this stupid. We have danger going on all around us, and you can’t even read a woman, Dorian said, shaking his head.

Well, in my defense, no man can read a woman. That book is written in a foreign language that no man can comprehend. And I didn’t see you getting lucky last night. Besides, you can’t read people any better than I can.

On the contrary, I can read people much better than you can. For example, I knew that Julius would booby trap the walk over here to keep us on our toes.

Julius did what? Before he could react, Dain’s feet snapped from under him. Moments later, Dain was staring at the ground, hoisted into the air by a rope trap set by Julius, hidden amongst the fallen leaves.

See… Dorian teased, throwing his hand up in casual dismissal.

Dain thrashed against his restraints, manically waving his arms to escape.

This isn’t funny, Dorian. Stop laughing and cut me down!

Julius stepped from behind a nearby tree to confront the boys. My word, Dain, I worry about your safety sometimes. That was the most obvious trap that I could have set.

I’m sorry, Julius. I was distracted.

Yeah, by your own stupidity, Dorian teased.

Dain shot Dorian a sarcastic stare as he slowly spun.

There will always be distractions and traps in the real-world boys, especially if the Baron is involved, Julius instructed.

Dorian’s eyes flamed to life as he spoke. The Baron, huh? What’s that guy’s deal? I wonder if we will be strong enough to fight him one day. I’d like to put my fist right in his face.

The Baron is powerful, but he is not invincible. He hides behind his generals, his army, and the fear he creates. He is not immortal. Many see him as the definitive word in his land, but it is not an admission of respect. It is one of fear.

That’s not what I asked, Julius, Dorian replied, locking eyes with his mentor.

One day, Dorian, I believe you two will be strong enough to change this world, or better yet, unite it. I wouldn’t be training you if I believed otherwise.

Dorian tapped Julius’ shoulder, satisfied with his mentor’s optimism.

Well, I’m just thrilled at your confidence in us, Julius, but you two are still aware that I am upside down in a tree, right? Dain interjected. And spinning. I think I’m going to hurl.

Cut him down, Dorian.

Dorian climbed the tree branches and cut Dain free with his small knife.

Dain dropped to the ground, groaning. I said, cut me down, not drop me! Take it up with the tree, not me. It’s the root of all your problems, Dorian retorted, jumping from the tree, landing gracefully.

Oh, you’re such a noble friend. All hail lord jester. Stop stealing my act, Dain sarcastically replied. Dain staggered to his feet and caught up with his friend and mentor. After a short walk, an opening of pristine land emerged in the middle of the forest. The terrain was expansive and untouched by war. The battered remnants of used training dummies littered the earth. A dilapidated wooden shed sat nearby, concealing more of Julius’ weapons and toys. Julius approached the humble shed and swung open the creaky doors.

Dorian and Dain waited outside, exchanging sleepy yawns. Julius stepped out moments later with three short wooden swords. The swords, like their armor, had been dulled from countless sessions. The boys had trained with Julius so much that they knew every imperfection and chip on their weapons. Without warning, Julius tossed the blades, testing their reflexes. Dorian caught his sword, while Dain fumbled with his, ultimately catching it before it fell to the ground.

You don’t waste any time getting started, do you, old man? Dain said.

I never like to waste my students’ time, Dain. And If I hear that blasphemy come out of your mouth again, I’m going to show you what arthritis truly feels like. I see no old man here.

Oh, so grumpy gramps. You know there was this one old guy I knew that was really grumpy.

Indeed, he was. That is until he beat his student to death. A very tragic story actually, Julius replied, his eyes suddenly serious.

Dain’s playful smile vanished. "Wait, really? Is that a true story, or did you take creative liberties?

Enough talking. Let’s get started, Dorian interrupted.

Julius stood with his sword hidden behind his back. His left palm faced his two pupils as if he meant to parry their attacks by hand. The boys locked eyes with Julius, both waiting patiently for their moment to strike. They noticed their mentor seemed different than usual. His stance was slightly off-balance, unsure, and his eyes seemed saddened somehow.

Begin! Julius said.

Dorian and Dain traded a glance of silent declaration, sealing their plan with a nod. They carefully stepped toward Julius, their eyes fiercely fixed on their opponent. Both Dain and Dorian spontaneously poked their swords toward their mentor, trying to break his guard. Julius parried their attacks with ease, maneuvering his feet like a graceful dancer. His movements were incredibly fast for his age. He seemed to know Dorian and Dain’s actions before they even made them. With each missed attack, Dorian grew more frustrated and began attacking wildly. Julius parried the wild display while he lectured.

Your movements are too predictable, boys. Concentrate on taking me off guard. Sometimes the best way to fight is with your head, not your hands. Try to use the art of deception and distraction to your advantage.

Dorian and Dain leaped back to create some distance, taking a moment of repose. A distraction, huh, Dorian repeated.

Wait, what does that even mean? Dain replied, somewhat confused by the cryptic notion.

I think he means that he is too strong for us to face head-on, so we have to use alternative methods of distraction to our advantage.

And here I am out of chickens to throw. Any ideas?

I got one, Dorian replied. He quietly whispered his plan into Dain’s ear. Dain’s smile grew with each detail. Julius observed the nearby spring while he casually twirled his sword with a quick flick of his wrist.

Follow my lead, Dain, Dorian instructed.

Got it.

Dorian suddenly rushed forward to attack, locking swords with Julius while Dain slipped behind his mentor to attack. Julius smiled, sensing Dain encroaching from the rear. Julius threw a strong backward kick toward Dain’s chest that dropped him to the ground, groaning, then swept Dorian’s legs with a second, lower kick. Dorian collapsed to the ground, dazed and clutching his tingling back.

W–what happened? Dain cried.

It was as I said before, you two are too predictable. You can’t sneak up behind me when you’re still in my clear line of sight, boy. You must be patient and pick a time when the opponent is not expecting an attack. I knew you would sneak behind me, and you paid for your hasty action.

Dorian glared back at Julius with a half-cocked smile. I know that look. That’s the look I used to give my father when we trained together. Nice try, but you need a little more patience and finesse. It is not always wise to go charging into battle with swords drawn. You need to pick your moments and attack.

Dorian glanced to his right, ready to commence their plan, I know, Julius. That’s the point, he said, smirking.

Dain suddenly leaped up with his blade, ready to attack. Julius turned to parry the blow as Dorian swept Julius’ legs. The deceptive pupils pointed their swords at their downed mentor, crossing their blades to form an X. Julius pressed his right hand against his forehead laughing, amused by their spontaneous tactic.

You were going to win, no way around that. But I figured you’d be off your guard after you thought you had won. It didn’t go completely according to plan, but, all in all, it went well, Dorian said.

There you go, boys. Now you’re learning. You caught me off guard. This is how you must fight when you are outmatched. Just because an enemy may be stronger does not necessarily mean that you cannot win. You simply must adjust your strategy. Well done, boys, Julius proclaimed. Dorian and Dain stood triumphantly, pleased with their accomplishment.

The two boys reached out their hands and helped Julius to his feet.

Good. Now onto the next phase for today.

Please say berry gathering. Please say berry gathering. Please… Dain murmured.

Close quarters combat training without weapons, followed by a brisk ten-mile run. Then we’ll finish with a few hours of strength and core training and blocking drills, Julius announced.

Dain sounded as if the air had been sucked from his lungs. He stood with wide eyes, dreading the day’s undoubtedly painful outcome.

Hey, Dain…it’s not berry gathering, Dorian teased.

Dain silently raised his hand toward Dorian to block him out of his line of sight. Not now. I need a moment of silence to honor my fallen brethren. I loved your legs, but today I lost you both. I loved you so…

The training continued into the later hours of the day, vigorously honing their skills and fitness. After the arduous regimen, Julius noticed that the sun had begun to set. He knew the boys were too exhausted to continue and lowered his sword. "You two should rest. I think you’ve earned it.

Meet me at the river once you have caught your breath."

Yes, sir, Dorian answered. Julius walked in the direction of the river while Dorian and Dain took a moment to gather themselves. I find it strange that someone his age can move so damn fast, Dorian said, pressing his hands against his stiff back.

You’re telling me? I got donkey kicked in the chest. How do you think I feel? For a split second, I think I lost consciousness.

Fair point. That donkey did kick the hell out of you. Shouldn’t have called him old, Dorian said, chuckling

Well, I’m glad my pain pleases you, Dorian. Shall I stub my toe for thee, your highness?

No, a donkey kick is plenty. I’ll cherish that one for years. Hey, by the way, did Julius seem a bit off to you today? Like he was preoccupied with something?

Yeah, he did. Maybe he’s just tired. He is getting up there.

Yeah, maybe.

Dain and Dorian grabbed their swords after their brief respite and wandered in the direction of the river. Julius sat by the bank, gazing into the flowing current rushing over a patch of partially submerged rocks. We’re here, Julius, Dain announced.

Sit down, boys. I need to talk to you.

Dorian recognized a faint crack of sadness in his mentor’s voice. Julius, are you okay? You seem depressed?

Hmm…you know me so well, boy. What’s on your mind? Dain asked.

Before you woke up. I received word this morning that Chronus has destroyed the city of Gothe. He destroyed everything, burned it all to the ground. I have…had friends there, Julius said, visibly ridden with melancholy.

How do you know they’re dead? They could have escaped, Dain asked.

Trust me, boy, they’re gone. I can feel it.

Dorian recounted his travels to Gothe and remembered the city as a staggering place surrounded by lush green scenery and a grandiose castle that was revered as the pride of the kingdom. He couldn’t believe that a city of such magnificence and splendor could be wiped out so suddenly.

Julius, I’ve heard about the Baron many times, but I still know very little about him. Why is it all fire and brimstone with this guy? Dorian asked.

Julius closed his eyes, gathering his thoughts. He doesn’t just want to destroy. It’s more complicated than that. He wants to rule and dominate. He was a good man once, but time and loss have a way of changing a person, despite their intentions for the best. Life has withered him. Now he only wishes submission from everyone.

Why? What happened to him? Dain asked.

Julius wanted to tell them, that much they could see, yet he restrained himself. Dorian noticed Julius’ tense fist release, and the desire to reveal his thoughts left him. That’s a story for another time. Julius stood and walked closer to the edge of the riverbank.

We should go, Julius. We should go to Gothe and see if we can find any survivors, Dain suggested.

No. It’s too dangerous. I won’t put you two at risk.

Come on, Julius. You said it yourself that one day we will be strong enough to make a difference, and you’re worried about your friends. We should go. It’s what we’ve been getting our asses kicked every day for, right? I think we can do some real good here. We can’t just sit here. You should have told us earlier. We could have gone this morning, Dorian argued.

I agree. I think we can help. Dain interjected.

Julius glanced toward his pupils. He thought to himself how much the boys had grown. He knew it was a pivotal decision, one that he may come to regret. However, Julius was an eternal optimist, his one great flaw. Instead, he saw what could be, and it drowned out all doubt.

You two are going to get an old man killed; you know that? The mentor always dies in these types of adventures, Julius said with a faint smile.

Ah, so you admit it. Trust me; denial is an ugly thing. Best to just own up to it, Dain jested.

Julius could see the resolve in their eyes. He shook his head, laughing, remembering his own exuberance as a reckless youth.

All right, boys…you win. We leave at daybreak tomorrow. Rest well. Yes, sir, they both replied and rushed back to their house for the night.

Julius smiled and gazed into the sky. Those two have grown so much, old friends. I have done what I can. I only hope that they have what it takes to weather what is to come. I can only hope my old friend will listen to reason, Julius whispered, watching the sunset beyond the horizon.

The next morning, the sun crept through the windows, awakening Dain yet again, despite shifting his bed slightly. Really? Is the sun hunting me? Dain murmured. He noticed that Dorian was already awake, gathering his gear for the trip. Dain spotted Julius through the window standing near the stream, studying an old map. Dain rolled onto his back, yawning.

You didn’t sleep well last night, did you, Dorian?

No. I take it you didn’t either?

No. Julius must be distraught. I’ve never seen him this worried before.

"Me