Book TWO: Retribution
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PROLOGUE
A well dressed man sat sipping tea on a marble balcony overlooking a tremendous waterfall. Water cascaded down its rocky surface creating a soothing sound to which he relaxed. The sun was somewhere over head and warmed his body and soul. He sighed deeply as he took another drink of the hot liquid.
He stirred as another figure approached him, holding a sealed collection of scrolls and parchments in his hands. Slowly, he placed them beside the cup of tea which rested on a table and presented the other man with a letter. Moving a weary finger over the wax seal holding the letter in place, the man sitting down tugged it open and read its content out loud.
“I note the following as I browse over the collected journals of one Joel Dawson, started in the winter of year 1409CT. They narrate on the gentleman’s experiences throughout the entirety of his life to near the present date after discovering that he was one of the Destined. Excerpts from his journals that may shed some light on recent occurrences have been included with this letter, please browse over them and inform us of what action we should take. May God be with you, Brother Delonge.”
“Will that be all?” the standing man asked.
“For now,” Delonge uttered in reply.
Brother Delonge nodded to himself with satisfaction and piled the collection of papers onto his lap and was very eager to begin reading the excerpts. Ignoring his tea for the time being, he began skimming through the pages penned by Joel Dawson.
21st December, 1409 CT
I do not know what happened, why it happened, or what we can do. It has been a week and yet what happened in Tentra still prevents me from sleeping. We could not find Tylor or Karen anywhere. Leon fears the worst, but I will not believe that yet!
We currently travel north away from Tentra amongst a convoy of surviving knights and townspeople after news of the western armies massacre came to us. Leon is leading them to the boarders of the Sarento Kingdom where he hopes they will be allowed sanctuary in exchange for giving up their citizenship under the asylum agreement of the Four Kingdoms.
I do not know what to think. I just pray they are alive...
30th December, 1409 CT
We have left the people behind. It was a difficult choice, but we think we have found him. He is some way ahead of us, but we can both feel it. I knew he would be alive! We rush to meet with him beyond Noctern at the base of the snow covered mountains. The survivors have been allowed access into Sarento, they are in the hands of its army now and I hope they will protect them.
Kain’s army of undead has yet to advance further than Tentra’s ruins, they seem to be holding position there. Perhaps there is no one to lead them now and without a leader they cannot operate, or the necromancy cast on them has worn off I don't know.
23rd February, 1410 CT
Leon is still unconscious. I cannot put into words how I feel; I wipe away tears as I write this. Tylor almost killed him. I do not understand what happened, but he is not the same as he once was. I am taking Leon to a Dau camp we passed a few days ago so they can help treat him. Even with the quick healing we are supposed to posses he looks bad.
This was not how it was supposed to be…
14th March, 1410 CT
We have lost track of Tylor, but Leon is adamant he can track him no matter how far he gets ahead. We are…scared. I feel stupid saying that even though I am writing to myself, but we are. Even Leon can't hide what he's feeling now. We are scared of what he’s become. But he is alive, and that is what counts. There is still no sign of Karen and after this long I doubt…
A note dropped from the next page in the pile of scrolls. It was penned by the same person who had sent Brother Delonge the journal extracts. It explained that the journal did not report on anything worth mentioning for quite some time after those first four quoted extracts. Joel Dawson and Leon Sansec continued to travel in search of their friend (Tylor Sabre, who was also of Atra heritage) who had, they suspected, become some form of unthinking demon. Relevant information on the Destined and their movements resurfaced six months later, when the young Joel, aged sixteen at the time according to his journal, once again started cataloging the movements of him and his friend.
7th October, 1410 CT
It has been a while since we trained. Though after discovering our real power there has not been much need. I am a master with almost any weapon and have more power than most people twice my age. Nevertheless, we need to learn to control it and harness it more, according to Leon, so that we can tackle Tylor.
We spoke of how our powers surfaced all those months ago and it seemed to me like the power we have seems to rely on a certain degree of anger from us. I was so angry and so sad back in Tentra when I thought they were all dead…and I remember a blinding white light and my mind shut off for a second. Then I knew the skills that all the Destined before me knew. It was similar with Leon once he discovered that Torra had died, his rage is what summoned his true Aura. Tylor always feared the power and its origins, but we need this power - without it many more people will die and we can’t let what happened to L’Carn and Atra happen to Sarento and Vail.
Delonge noticed another gap between selected entries in the journal, this time a much greater time lapse of two years.
14th December, 1412 CT
It has been a while since I kept a journal. But today brought back so many memories I decided perhaps it was best that I continue these stupid notes. A while back Leon and I decided this would be the day we morn those we lost all those years ago in Atra.
I miss you Karen. I miss you insulting me and treating me like a kid. I wish you were here today.
I miss you Tylor. Leon has taken care of me, but no one can replace you. Knowing that you are still alive but in the dark form we see now only makes it harder. I wish you were like you used to be.
7th January, 1413 CT
After trekking through these mountains for so long we have finally found signs of Tylor again. We came across the ruins of a Dau encampment. Thirty-six dead littered the ground. We arranged them in graves then continued on. He seems to be heading east once again. This is the third time he has changed direction. The direction…and the random carnage… it’s just so unfounded, I see no reason in it. We didn't find one weapon. Not one. These Dau were defenseless. They could not have provoked him, could they? Could they have made him angry? Maybe that is what is driving him; the power became too intense?
17th July, 1413 CT
Today is my eighteenth birthday. Guess you can’t call me a kid anymore Tylor…
We celebrated in a city called Esparta near the mountain side boarders of the Sarento Kingdom. I think I am quite drunk as I write this; it’s the last time I do anything as stupid as have a drinking contest with Leon…so much for the Destined quick healing. It isn’t helping my stomach!
27th July, 1413 CT
Leon is very different now. I swear I saw him cry once. Maybe it was memories of his brother, I don't know. He wanted to hide it from me, but he's changed. It's like he's drifting from the training he was given. Maybe he sees a use for emotion now? Or, maybe, he's just as filled with grief as I am and can't hold it in...
Leon has given up perusing Tylor for now. Though Tylor may not be of his normal mind we can still feel a pulling to him as he is the Center Point, because of this we will not loose track of him forever.
17th September, 1413 CT
We have heard rumor and fable of his movements from all manner of people. He has seemingly been taking a random path through the mountains and destroys any form of civilization he comes in contact with. We do not know where his final destination is or why he is doing these things. We let him drift too long, I tried to tell Leon. Tylor is being commonly referred to as Apocalypse, named after some ancient demon of old that once tried to destroy the world.
Leon has not trained since the day we left a settlement we camped at for a few weeks, but he can still better me in a sparring match. I will continue to train though and I think I can eventually better him if he continues to be as lax as he is now. I have extended my training to include more usage of the Aura as a visible weapon rather than a pool of power to draw strength from. I believe it can be a potent weapon when easily controlled. Leon does not believe me, but I will show him!
Once again picking up his cup of tea, Brother Delonge found it to be cold. With a huff, he sat up and moved the journal extracts from his lap to the nearby side table and walked over to the edge of the balcony.
Time had moved on quickly as he became lost in the journal extracts. He gazed longingly at the waters falling down before him and listened to the sound of it beating against the rocks down below. Soon he would need to leave that beautiful place and return to the capital.
The one that had written the journal, Joel Dawson, seemed erratic in his writing just like the type of personality the man himself seemed to have. It was as he had always feared; powerful beings already walked amongst them as if they were normal men. The Destined were the thorns in his side, the spies in his midst, the bane of his existence and the evil in his story.
He knew how the story ended, however. Far from his beautiful waterfall and his home in the desert oasis, Joel Dawson and Leon Sansec walked through the Sarento Kingdom chasing the demon christened Apocalypse by his people. The chase had now consumed, going by present date, almost fifteen years of their lives. The story would end when those evil powers met and anything caught in their wake would surely be destroyed.
The future was not as clear as it had once been for him. The Destined had complicated matters and now dark times were ahead for Sarento. The darkness followed them wherever they surfaced and because of that Atra had fallen and L’Carn before it. The intricate balance of good and evil had been broken. The battle could go either way, but neither victor would restore peace and order. Only he could do that.
Before him were the Dark Legions of the west, the demon Apocalypse to the north, and the Destined to the south. They were like chess pieces with Sarento as the board, them the black and his brothers the white. He was on the board too, the most important white piece in this battle, the hallowed king and already he was being surrounded on all sides by demons and devils. However, he would fight back with his brothers and with the divine intervention of God’s will they would banish the inhuman invaders from the Endless Desert and return peace to the world.
“Which of these pawns will be the first to be taken?” Delonge mused out loud to himself.
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