Dinavhek- The Fall Read online

  The prince sank down onto the bench again, his face hidden in his open hands. His friend took a seat next to him. A long moment of silence passed before the prince forced himself to speak again.

  “War, I can do next to nothing about,” he confessed, “but I am tired of feeling completely useless. We have needed some help around the palace for quite some time, and I think my father would agree.”

  “I'm afraid I don't understand where you're going with this, my friend,” Glanen asked as much as said, looking confused and suspicious.

  “I would like to investigate into the slave trade, with my own time and resources. I may not be able to save the lives of all of our people, but as this is a matter that has received such little attention, I would like to see, for myself, if the allegations are true. If we manage to free anyone, they may be able to tell us more about these border skirmishes.”

  Glanen shook his head.

  “My prince, forgive me, but this is – it's foolhardy! You should let me take control of this. With so many recruits at my disposal, I could launch a raid with ease!”

  Adsuni stared at him levelly.

  “No, absolutely not. How do you think the commonfolk would react if they knew their favorite knight was kicking down doors and arresting people without evidence of any sort of wrongdoing? We don't need brawn for this one, friend, we need something else entirely.”

  *​*​*

  “It is done, sir,” the man said, taking a deep bow. He was a thin, elderly man, with brittle gray hair, and small, beady eyes. The man he had been speaking to reclined further into his chair. He was a bit shorter, and heavier set, with curly black hair and short, neatly kept beard. His name was Hymuse, and he was the Prime Minister of Dinavhek. As he was also a close and greatly trusted friend of the king, he was one of the last people anyone would suspect in a plot to usurp the throne.

  “Perfect,” he said with a grin. “the king of Takirar has been disposed of, and our business is practically – oh, how do those merchants say it? Booming. Yes, this is good! Please inform Mistress Kharqa that everything is in place, and we will be ready to receive her soon. The King will be eager to meet with her.”

  “Yes, sir,” said a young guard, taking a respectful bow before the man.

  “Very good. Now, I want everyone to clear out! Everyone except for you,” he added, pointing to a shorter, heavy-set man with frayed hair, who stayed sitting in his chair at the opposite end of the room.

  Gotaaga was one of the men on the ruling council, and he remained in the dusty old chamber with Hymuse long after the rest of the group cleared out.

  “The King still doesn't suspect a thing, does he?” he finally asked.

  “Of course not,” Hymuse said with a snort, tossing his long silver hair elegantly. He seemed much younger than the rest of the men that the King employed, but he possessed a certain sense of wisdom that the rest of them did not. He owed his youthful appearance to his elven heritage, which the rest of them suspected, but could not prove.

  It didn't matter terribly much, anyway. He had such little elven blood running in his veins that he could easily pass for human, and so long as he denounced the existence of the non-men, the council would give him a pass.

  As it so happened, he was the most respected man on the council, and for a good reason – he, alone, could get them all to settle down and agree on important issues. He was often the peacemaker between the King, his son, and the rest of the council.

  “I must admit, I'm surprised that you're willing to go through with this. Everyone knows how close you and the King are,” Gotaaga said with a mild chuckle. Hymuse stared at him sharply.

  “What I do now is for the good of the people. The King would not understand, so it is best not to confuse him with the details, yes? I think we can both agree that his rulership has been a bit... lacking, of late. Dinavhek grows weaker still under his reign.”

  Gotaaga smiled and stood. “Yes, of course. The peace agreement with the king – how absolutely foolish. This farce has gone on long enough. The people of Dinavhek ought to consider themselves lucky that we look out for them so. They would never agree to such a disastrous deal.”

  “You are not to say a word about this to anyone,” Hymuse ordered, his delicate features suddenly turning sharp. “Anyone not involved will simply not understand what we are building here. The important thing is, Lady Kharqa is ready to take over, and we would be most ungracious if we did not accept her with open arms. With the king having been disposed of, our greatest threat is now taken care of. Soon, we will be able to enjoy the sweet rewards of Takirar's silver and steel, and usher Dinavhek into a prosperous new age.

  “I'm sure I'll be able to convince the King to meet with her. He's been rather insistent of late that we should go to Takirar on a diplomatic mission. He's sure that doing so will resolve the lingering tensions between our countries.”

  Gotaaga, who had walked over to the door, stopped short of laying his palm upon the handle. He half-turned, meeting Hymuse's eyes.

  “Do you really think we're ready for this next step?”

  Hymuse leaned back against the podium, seeming unconcerned.

  “Ready or not, this is where we're at. On this point, we both agree: The King is no longer fit to rule Dinavhek, and his son is no better. If we are to survive, there must be a change.”

  “But what of the prince?” Gotaaga asked. “You admit it yourself, that he is no more suitable to be a king than dear old Zaeem. What shall we do about him?”

  Hymuse scratched his chin, thinking over the man's question. “We'll deal with him later. Well, us or the beast-folk.”

  That got Gotaaga's attention once more!

  “You can't mean...”

  “I hear they've been resurfacing. Given their history with our country, and its royal bloodline in particular, I think we're in for a treat.”

  Chapter 2

  A Sign From the Goddess

  ∞∞∞

  Her troupe had been on the run for weeks. After their last settlement fell to raiders, Aasimah's people could not afford to linger in their present location. Nearly half of them were lost in the most recent raid, and Aasimah was lucky to escape. This had been the greatest tragedy of young Aasimah's life, and never before had her group been so brutally torn down.

  As long as she could remember, her people were on the move, never truly settling down anywhere. The longest they stayed in one place was almost three years, and that was during her childhood. She could still remember that little oasis. She remembered, too, how she used to play in the spring with the other children. That was before the majority of them perished, either from starvation or disease. Or, though only a touch less commonly, at the fangs and claws of a monster.

  The heat often wore them down, rendering them defenseless against the other threats. The youngest of the children were the most vulnerable to the cruel heat of the Takirari desert. When she was young, Aasimah often asked why it was that her people chose to live in the desert and why it was that they moved around so much.

  Their answer didn't quite satisfy her.

  “You are too young to understand, little Aasimah, but our people are ever in danger. We must live in hiding if we are to survive, and we must never stay in one place for long. Our pursuers don't like the heat any more than we do, so you see, we are safer this way.”

  “But who is chasing us? Why are they chasing us?” Aasimah would ask of them, only to be told that she was too young to know.

  Upon reaching early adulthood, she was met with a similar answer: “You are not yet wise and experienced enough to understand our ways. Please stop asking us, Aasimah. We have our reasons.”

  As Aasimah aged, she came to know the grief of loss time and time again. Too old and weary to keep up with the journey, the group elders would often succumb to either the heat, the rock and sand wyrms, or just sheer exhaustion.

  Now, there were merely two dozen of them left, and Aasimah, now twenty-two, was among the oldest of
the group. Soon, it would be her turn to lead the remainder of their people – where, she did not know.

  With so few left that were older and wiser than her, might she soon find out?

  “We must stop here,” said Falysto, their current leader. Being that he was in his sixties, Falysto was quite robust for a man of his age. He assumed control of the group after the death of their previous leader and was already proving himself to be a strong and capable one. “Aasimah, tell everyone behind you to stop and rest. We shan't go any farther today.”

  Aasimah let out a great sigh.

  “You still haven't told me where we're going,” she reminded him. “You said you would tell me after we ate!”

  “Yes, yes, I know. Just do as I ask, won't you? Look out there,” he commanded, pointing to the ridge north of their location. “Do you see those jagged marks in the dirt? And those little 'bubbles' of land? Those are rock wyrm nests.”

  “But we're not that close to them.”

  “It doesn't matter. They like to hunt at night, and if we go any closer, we might find themselves in their range. You were so little the last time we did battle with them – you don't know how strong they are!”

  “Fine, fine. Hey, everyone!” Aasimah called over her shoulder, “we're stopping for the day!”

  “FINALLY!” shouted Zegaru, a rambunctious young “pup,” as old man Falysto often called him. Though he had only seen seventeen summers, and was significantly more energetic than his older companions, he, too, was feeling the effects of the long journey.

  Zegaru dropped his pack to the ground, and settled down beneath a drooping tree with a happy little sigh. He began to root through his sack.

  “Don't eat too much,” Falysto cautioned the boy. “We don't know how much hunting we'll be able to do around here, and I don't think anyone's going to be too eager to share with you after what happened last time.”

  “But it was an accident!” Zegaru groaned.

  Aasimah laughed.

  “Really? Stuffing your face with Cisa's rations was an accident? There wasn't a single crumb left for her after you got your hands on her pouch!”

  “Aasimah,” Falysto admonished, “don't rile him up. We need to keep a low profile tonight. They nearly caught up to us the last time you two went at it.”

  The old man approached the lad and dropped a pouch of his own into the boy's lap.

  “If it will keep you quiet, you can have my rations. If not, then I may just tie you to that tree over there and leave you out for the rock wyrms!”

  Zegaru grumbled, but not for long; his cheeks were soon stuffed almost to bursting with chunks of dried meat and fruit. The remainder of their companions all set about claiming their own spots, and soon, the small, shaded area was littered with simple, albeit temporary shelters.

  “Why are you always so hard on me?” Aasimah asked Falysto quietly, joining him by the campfire he had just managed to light.

  “Because you are hard on everyone else,” Falysto answered. “I know this life hasn't been easy for you. Our people don't live easy lives at all. There is no such thing as a real childhood among our kind. It's a difficult life, but if we did not continue this way, there would be no life at all for us.”

  “Yeah, I know, you keep telling me that, but you won't tell me why,” Aasimah protested “I know absolutely nothing, and you don't see anything wrong with that? You told me that I might succeed you someday, but how can I do that if you don't tell me anything?”

  “I have my reasons,” he deflected.

  “Reasons that you don't want to share – that's the point!”

  “Aasimah, can't you just let an old man rest for a moment? I will tell you what you need to know, when the time is right. If you knew it all now... I don't want to think what might happen.”

  “You won't even entertain the thought of just being honest with me?” Aasimah demanded angrily. “I've been doing all the grunt work for you for years. After all that training, all those lessons about leadership, and what it means to be one of 'our kind,' whatever we are – what's it all for, anyway? We're being hunted and we don't know why. You want to leave the group to me, when you inevitably croak—”

  “Aasimah!” Cisa gasped. “How can you say such a thing, and to your elder, no less?”

  Falysto raised his hand, extending his open palm outward in a bid to silence them both. Cisa immediately silenced herself, gazing down into her lap like a scolded dog. She was younger than Aasimah by two years and possessed of a rather meek temperament in comparison.

  Aasimah also fell silent, but there remained a fire burning in her eyes. She did not look away but instead stared boldly at Falysto, daring him to explain himself. The old man sighed and shook his head.

  “This is why I don't believe you're ready to know everything, just yet. You're not the only one – everyone your age and younger knows just as much as you do, and there are reasons for that. Reasons that you would not understand.”

  Aasimah took a deep breath, trying to calm herself before responding to him.

  “What exactly are you afraid of?” she dared to ask him. “What do you think is going to happen, just from me knowing something?”

  “I'm afraid that you will hurt someone, or that you will get someone hurt,” Falysto said plainly, much more so than any of them were accustomed to. “There are elements of our history that you would struggle to come to terms with, and I shudder to think of how this might affect you.”

  Aasimah's face grew tight. “What's that supposed to mean? Who do you think I'm going to hurt?”

  “I have already said enough! Aasimah, you are a brilliant young woman, but you are reckless, arrogant and, I daresay, ill-tempered. You are not ready for this, not yet.”

  Having said that, Falysto rose from his spot by the fire, and walked off without so much as a glance back at her. Cisa watched Aasimah with timid eyes.

  “I'm sure he didn't mean that.”

  “Don't,” Aasimah warned. “Just leave me be.”

  “Aasimah—”

  “Did you not hear me? Go away,” she snapped.

  Cisa flinched as though she'd been struck. She gave Aasimah one long look before reluctantly taking off, joining Zegaru.

  Aasimah wrapped herself up in her blanket, and nestled down beneath her own tree. She was too angry to sleep, but too tired to press the issue any further, so she simply lay there, looking up at the stars. She looked to the moon, the symbol of Anikasi.

  According to Falysto, her people were once very close to her. It was said that after their near-annihilation, they felt betrayed by the goddess and turned away from her.

  Now her people followed her rival Oranuken, the god of the sun. They hoped that he would offer them greater protection and guidance and that he would not abandon them as the goddess had.

  In truth, Aasimah suspected it was more or less due to the practicality of the situation; the eastern range of Takirar wasn't especially welcoming towards worshipers of Anikasi, and it was simply safer for them to renounce her worship whenever they came into contact with the locals.

  Aasimah remembered asking her elders why the goddess had abandoned her people. She never received a solid answer, just rueful speculation.

  Now, the young woman could not help but to gaze upon the moon and ask the goddess herself, though she doubted she would be heard. She wasn't entirely convinced that Oranuken would ever hear her prayers, either.

  Why, goddess, did you forsake us? What transgression could we be so guilty of, that you would leave your children to such a pitiful existence?

  The moon did not answer.

  Then again, Aasimah did not expect it to.

  “Hey, Aasimah! Get up!” Zegaru called, nudging her with his foot. “Hey, come on, old man Falysto says we gotta get going. You're gonna get left behind!” he added.

  “No one is going to be left behind,” Falysto corrected. “Aasimah, I know you are angry with me, but even if you will not speak another word to me for the rest of our
lives, you must get up. We have stayed here too long.”

  Aasimah did not answer.

  “That's it, you asked for it!” Zegaru said, before ripping the blanket away. “Wait – what?”

  “Aasimah, you fool...” Falysto cursed, for underneath the blanket was a pile of neatly arranged packs and tools.

  *​*​*

  If Aasimah were to look upon the sight of herself chasing after the specter from the perspective of an outsider, she would think herself a tremendous idiot. Yet here she was, running through the desert alone, after a skittering creature of light. It took on the shape of a fox, which was almost entirely white, with black tipped ears and legs.

  The fox darted about the brush, periodically disappearing from her line of vision, only to reappear a moment later. Occasionally, she could see it waiting for her to catch up, darting away once she began to close the distance between them.

  She had no idea how long the chase had gone on, only that now, the sky was beginning to glow pink in the distance, heralding the rise of Oranuken's great gift to the people – the sun.

  As the sunrise drew closer, the fox seemed to fade from her vision more frequently. Indeed, she thought it might have disappeared completely at one point, when it led her to an unexpectedly large body of water – a lake! In the desert of Takirar! Or were they within Dinavhek's border, now?

  It was a strange sight, but a welcome one. Aasimah bent down beside the water and dipped her hands into it eagerly, splashing it on her face, cupping her hands to bring small amounts to her lips...

  ...which she almost immediately spit back out, for the water was disgustingly salty.

  “Just my luck,” she muttered angrily.

  Her stomach gurgled, and for the first time since the chase began, she became painfully aware of how hungry she was. She had taken off after the fox the moment it entered her vision.

  Feeling as though she were being watched, Aasimah looked up to see the fox standing across the lake, watching her.