Tales of Eleutheros

Avria gazed past the city walls from her perch at the top of the highest tower of Agron’s palace in Vul De Rah. She watched as the distant blob of crimson clad Lokkadonian warriors marching back from Rexun slowly came closer and closer, becoming more distinguishable and detailed. She smiled as she saw Oros riding upon his Cro’kan, in the center of the column, looking just as clean and regal as she remembered him.

“Kryo Oros has returned!” she heard watchmen calling from their posts on the palace walls. There was a general excitement in the air. He had gone to do battle with the Rexunii and defeated their meager resistance yet again. They were not the formidable force they once were, but still, Avria had worried for his safety.

She found her way down the tower and into the front courtyard of the palace. Hundreds of warriors and nobles stood crowded around the entrance, waiting patiently for the triumphant return of Vul De Rah’s son. Avria scanned the faces of all who attended and saw poor Boros yelling at servants and guards, still trying to perfect the organization of this reception. She then noticed that she had been wearing a rather foolish-looking smile for the better part of an hour, and her face was sore.

As the minutes passed, she could hear the cheering of Vul De Rah’s citizens down below and how the voices seemed to get closer and closer as he and his entourage found their way to the palace.

She turned quickly then and marched into the palace doors to make her way to the throne room, where Agron would officially receive his son. She ran into Katrina on the way there and grabbed her by the arm. She seemed to be nervous and looking for someone.

“Where are you going?” Avria asked. “Oros is back; we have to greet him in the throne room.”

“I know, but I can’t find Daniel anywhere,” Katrina said, her face red with frustration. “He is always doing stuff like this. Where the hell does he go?”

“Maybe he’s hiding from Illya,” Avria joked, uncharacteristically.

Katrina stopped for a moment, looking taken aback.

“I’m kidding, Katrina, don’t be so sensitive. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. Keep looking. If you don’t find him, forget him and come to the throne room. I want to at least make sure you are there.”

“Of course, my Lady.” Katrina bowed her head and grumbled something as she strode off.

Avria didn’t even feel annoyed at the absence of her charge; she felt like there was nothing that could stifle her mood. Oros was back and in perfect form.

She found her way to the throne room, which was crowded with the elite nobles and rulers of the various houses. Representatives of high lords and Hegos from across Eleutheros were present, and even members of King Yomin’s court. This day would mark the ascension of the Ignos family to true royalty and would be talked about for years to come.

Suddenly her eyes caught sight of a brown-haired, solemn-looking human standing next to her goofy brother Delmos. That… she thought, chuckling to herself. He’s been here the whole time poor Katrina has been looking for him. His skin was a peach color but a bit tanned. Illya had been overtly attracted to the man since they arrived, and Avria never truly understood why, but there was… something that she couldn’t put her finger on. She hadn’t gotten to know Robert well, but Daniel definitely had an allure to him.

She walked up through the center of the crowd, where there was a large opening for Oros when he arrived. Agron sat on his throne with a large grin on his face, speaking with Telmos, her father. The two always seemed like brothers, and now they would truly be able to call one another family. After the mating ceremony, she would be a member of House Ignos, and the two men could not be more excited.

“Ah! Avria!” Agron called. “How is my future daughter doing? Come, come stand next to your father.”

Telmos laughed and slapped Agron on the back. “She’s still my daughter as of yet, and Oros had better treat her well. He may be a successful conqueror now, but I can still give him a run for his life.”

“I’m sure you can, old friend.” Agron laughed. “Just don’t throw out your back. I seem to remember you complaining about that before.”

“Yes, I remember telling you that in confidence. I don’t want everyone to know, next thing you will see all these young Dae scrambling up here to give me a chair.”

“I’m fine with that, Telmos, just as long as it’s smaller than mine. I have my image to look after!”

They laughed loudly. It was fitting to see that. Avria smiled and stood next to Agron, on his right side, while her father remained on his left. They waited for what seemed an eternity before she heard the group of warriors enter the hallway. The large doors slid open, and Boros walked in and announced loudly, “Oros, of House Ignos!”

The crowd erupted in cheers, and a clean and crimson clad Oros walked in, still wearing his battle garb, bone plate, bone mask, and a golden embroidered cloak. He was flanked by two dozen warriors who ceremoniously marched in and arranged themselves on either side of the Kryo. Oros strode confidently to the steps leading up to Agron’s throne and stopped. The Hego stood from his royal seat and walked down with his arms outstretched.

“Welcome back, Hero of Vul De Rah!” he called, embracing him. Agron pulled back with a smile. “Come now, remove your mask and let us celebrate!”

Oros reached up and removed his mask, placing it on a latch on his belt.

“Son?” Agron said, his face now serious. “Your eyes… what happened to your eyes? Are you we--”

In an instant, Oros pulled his blade from his belt and cleaved the head of his father from his body. Gouts of blood sprayed over Avria, and she didn’t have a moment to react. She realized that she still had the same stupid smile plastered on her face, and Agron’s blood had gotten in her mouth. In what seemed like an eon, she looked at the head of her Hego roll across the stone floor, spilling blue blood in its wake. The realization hit her, and she looked at Oros in horror. It was him, but his eyes… his eyes were a deathly black. She screamed in horror, anger, shock. There were hundreds of emotions flashing through her mind as she witnessed the man she had come to care for deeply, murder his own father before her eyes.

“Agron!” Telmos yelled.

Without warning, Oros lunged at Avria, and she saw no hatred in his expression. Nothing but cool, calm, indifference to the atrocity he had just committed. A pair of arms wrapped around Oros from behind, and the man was pulled to the bloody floor. There were screams and shouts of panic from the crowd. Then the small room started to erupt in blasts from the Dunamis. Avria looked up to see the two dozen warriors who came with Oros turn their deadly fury on the unsuspecting crowd. Blasts of heat and electricity boomed in the throne room, and utter chaos ensued.

Avria attempted to get her bearings as she looked down at the headless body of Agron, slumped forward, and beside him, his son Oros, wrestling emotionlessly with his brother Boros and her father, Telmos. Hot tears began to run down her face, and for the first time in her life, she was at a complete loss at what to do.

“Avria!” Boros screamed. “Help us!” He cried in pain as Oros’ blade slashed across his leg in the struggle.

Avria dashed to their aid and grabbed his sword hand. “What happened to you!? Oros! What’s wrong!?”

She met his eyes, and at that moment, he froze. Tears continued to pour as she cried out to him, “What have you done!?”

There was a shimmer over his perfect red face, and she saw the precision of his features melt away. Oros’ eyes faded from black into a dull grey, and his skin looked as though it had been melted and charred. The rest of his body changed as well as if an illusion had blanketed it to reveal the long-dead corpse of her once handsome and powerful Kryo.

“What… what is going on?” Boros shouted, standing in horror. “Brother! Oros!”

“How is this possible?” Telmos raged, looking at the battle in the throne room. Bodies and blood flooded the now cramped-looking space, and the warrior imposters were fighting their way out, having been overwhelmed by the powerful Dae who were present.

“Don’t let them escape!” Telmos bellowed, charging forward.

An unbridled and feral rage built in Avria’s chest as she saw the warriors fighting their way out of the throne room. Her heart began to thunder in her chest as the multiple emotions in her mind started to focus and meld into one: Hate. She stood slowly from the gory scene and took one more look at her beloved Oros’ lifeless body and the slumped remains of her Hego. Her resolve set in, and she dashed toward the opening of the throne room. Her body was enhanced by the Dunamis, and she crossed the distance in moments. As she ran, she picked up a bone spear from one of the fallen imposters and lunged into the fray. She stabbed her weapon in the neck of one of the warriors and screamed as a burst of electricity erupted through the tip of the weapon and into the small formation. The unfortunate victim was blown nearly in half, and the rest were knocked to the bloodied floor. Avria screamed again, her throat burning with the exertion, but she felt nothing from it. Lost in the moment, the singular purpose of killing these murderers was all she could see. Her spear slashed back and forth, deflecting and parrying blows from the warriors. Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw the form of her father smash his hands together and blast his Dunamis into the rest. The palace itself was shaking from the battle, and the walls crumbled with every attack. Soon, the last of the warriors were dead, and Avria breathed heavily, her body and weapon soaked in the blood of her enemies.

Then, as the sound of huffing nobles around her began to subside, they heard more crashing and screams from down the hall.

“Are there more of these fiends?” Gruthen of House Sumander asked through gritted teeth.

“There could be attacks like this all throughout the palace,” Telmos said. “Avria, we need to get to our estate. To the Glade and the barracks! I don’t know what happened, but we have been tricked somehow.”

Avria didn’t respond. She wrung her hands around the bloody shaft of her spear, then her eyes widened, and she frantically started looking for her apprentice. “Katrina!?” Her eyes scanned the dozens of faces of nobles around her. She glanced back at Oros’ and Agron’s bodies and breathed a sigh of relief.

Boros was on his knees beside them, sobbing uncontrollably next to his sister Illya, who was clutching her father. Katrina stood behind Boros and had a hand on his head.

“Avria,” Telmos asked. “Where is Delmos? And where is Daniel?”

“I saw the human and your son dash down the hall after several enemy warriors, my Lord.” One of the nobles pointed in the direction. It was Eslan of House Bodilla.

Without saying a word, Avria bolted down the hall in pursuit.

“Avria!” her father called in warning, but she ignored him. Her fear had started to return to her at the thought of her brother being killed. She could not handle another death of a loved one. She dashed around corners, down hallways, following the sound of battle, but something seemed off. The closer she got to the entrance of the palace, the louder it became. She came to the reception area near the entrance and found it was crowded with frightened nobles and servants who were trying to escape the violence. The large doorway leading out of the palace was a battleground. There, she saw her brother fighting. The warriors he fought wore the grey of Rexunii warriors, and the sudden realization hit her. We’re under attack… the whole city is under attack, she thought, lunging toward the battle.

Delmos fought his opponent and managed to slice him across one of his biceps. The warrior grunted and retreated back, being immediately replaced by another eager ally.

“Coward!” Delmos shouted, fighting the newcomer.

“Duck!” Daniel bellowed as he swung his weapon over Delmos’ head and into the neck of his enemy. The man gurgled and was flung to the ground by the force of the blow. Blood sprayed into the chaos.

“Delmos!” Avria called, bringing his attention. “What is the situation?” She stabbed her spear forward and unleashed another blast of electricity. This time it was mostly deflected by the enemy, and only one flew back out of the doorway.

“The whole damn place is under attack. As soon as Dan and I got here, they were already trying to enter into this first room!”

Crimson and grey-cloaked warriors struggled beside her. The palace guard had reacted quickly in repelling the violent assault from outside the palace. Unfortunately, many nobles had died in the process. Avria peered out the door, past the shoulders of the Rexunii, and saw the courtyard was littered with bodies, most of them dressed in fine clothing.

“How did they get in here!?” Avria asked, stabbing her weapon again at an enemy. “Our walls are impenetrable! There is no way this many warriors could have gotten in unnoticed!”

“They materialized out of thin air!” Daniel grunted while blocking an attack that would have severed Delmos’ arm. “I don’t know how, but they were invisible! They walked through the door and started killing everyone!”

“What?” Avria was stunned. “How do you know this?”

Daniel gestured with his head to a dead Lokkadonian officer. “The captain of the palace guard watched it happen. He told me right before he took a sword to the head.”

“Dan!” Delmos shouted, getting his attention. “Blast these bastards! Don’t hold back. Use your fire!”

Daniel closed his eyes and raised his hands at the formation. Again, the enemy did their standard defense by bringing up Dunamis enhanced barriers of their various elements. What they didn’t expect was the crimson flame that burst from Daniel’s palms. The blast was so intense that their whole line was blown out of the entrance, and even the Lokkadonian palace guards scrambled back from him and shielded themselves.

Avria’s eyes widened as she saw the massive display of power. How? she thought. He was not this powerful when we practiced.

After the initial shock, the Lokkadonians cheered and dove to kill their burning and wounded opponents.

“That’s it!” Delmos shouted. “Let’s go! We need to rally our defense!”

Avria stabbed her spear down into the throat of a wounded Rexunii warrior and looked back at Daniel. He seemed a bit out of breath from the large attack but shrugged it off and continued.

Avria, Daniel, Delmos, and their group of palace guards cleared the courtyard and did what they could to help the wounded nobles that were butchered unexpectedly by the attackers. Among the wounded was Phenia of House Vonos, Cato’s daughter. She groaned as they lifted her up, and they saw that she had been stabbed through the leg. She whimpered at the sight of the wound and hid her face in Delmos’ bloody cloak.

“Thank the spirits you’re alive,” he said. “Lord Cato would have never forgiven us if we let you die.”

“We need to move,” Daniel said, looking down into the city below. The vantage point from the elevated palace was always a beautiful view; now, all they saw below were explosions of elemental fury, screams, and warriors fighting in the streets.

“Wait,” Avria said, straining her eyes. With a whirl of her hands, the air and light before her began to bend and swirl until a small vortex appeared before her. It was magnified, and she used it to study the battle below. “By the spirits,” she whispered.

“What?” Delmos asked, “What is it?” He stepped next to her and peered through the magnified vortex.

“I see Visgo warriors down there… and Sabree… and Volsung! When did this happen!?” Avria’s eyes bulged with confusion. “Why would they do this to us!? And how did they get into Vul De Rah!?”

“A coordinated attack,” Daniel said. “They must have been planning this in secret. You mean to tell me our spies didn’t pick up on this? How did four clans sneak up on us like this without being seen?”