The Chronicle Page 9

Bryson, Toshik, Olivia, Vuilni, Vistas, and Vitio occupied a tiny cellar dressed with a few torches along the stone walls. The main level of the palace was only a short climb up the staircase behind them, yet this room felt like a separate building. It looked like it was plucked out of a small town from ancient times.

  Over two years ago, Bryson stood in this very same room alongside Jilly and Toshik as they prepared to go to the Dev Kingdom, the exact place he was headed to now. Only this time, he had more skill within himself and firepower surrounding him. He was looking forward to this. Himitsu, Fane, Horos, and Flen had just teleported. Right now they were likely fighting off a swarm of Dev soldiers, creating madness with their black fire.

  Bryson and Toshik were the next two to depart. As they stepped onto the rickety teleplatform, Intel King Vitio said, “Stick to the script, boys. Head northeast through the plains until you find the secret telecluster. Protect Flen at all costs. Once he has recorded the weaving patterns of the platforms, you immediately return and teleport out.”

  “For the hundredth time, we got it,” Bryson groaned.

  “And keep an eye on Flen. Don’t let him try anything funny.”

  Bryson smirked. “Like escape?”

  Vitio went silent, then said, “Yes.”

  Vistas, whose eyes had been closed as he stood to the side, finally opened them. “It’s time.”

  “Good. Flip the lever,” Bryson said, grabbing hold of the single support beam.

  “Good luck,” Vitio said.

  As the platform increased its rotational speed, Vistas said, “There’s a large amount of Powish soldiers along with the Devish—close to a hundred,” Vistas said, as the platform rotated faster.

  Toshik casually drew his sword, and Bryson nodded at the Dev servant. “No problem.”

  The cellar disappeared, swallowed by an unnatural pitch black that disoriented Bryson , stripping away his vision. With the platform slowing down, he assumed they had arrived. He raised his hand in front of his face only to see nothing. If this was the result of a Passion Assassin’s flames, it wasn’t like any he’d ever witnessed before. Even as he gazed toward the sky, all that could be seen were the glint of the stars, but no light surrounding them—like a field of fireflies.

  He emitted an electrical blast into the unknown. While the strings of electricity were clearly visible, they didn’t provide light to the surrounding air—incandescent strings zapped into a black void. Pushing off the platform, he used his enemy’s shouts to his advantage. Considering the strange silence that bathed the darkness, however, even this proved difficult. There were no clashing of swords, grunts of efforts, or booming sounds of destruction—only a dying scream that occasionally pierced the silence. The three Passion Assassins moved with stealth and struck with calculated blows, living up to their title’s reputation.

  Bryson wended between walls of flame using his sense of smell. He’d developed a good nose for their foul yet faint odor after sparring Himitsu countless times over the past three years. He managed to kill a few enemies without the use of his vision before the abyss began to disperse. Moonlight fought through the shadows as the flames weakened.

  Enemies began to move with a sense of direction, clearly spotting Bryson, Toshik, and the assassins. Bryson focused more on his defenses, but it didn’t dampen his onslaught. He disposed of officers, no matter the color of their uniform. He took advantage of the Devish with his speed while saving his electricity for the Powish. He didn’t feel like testing their strength in a close-combat fight, at least not in this scenario.

  As Bryson continued to decimate the opposition, he spotted something strange in the distant flames. A section of the shadowy inferno morphed, as if someone had walked through it. At first, he thought it might have been Himitsu, Fane, or Horos weaving their energy in a strange way, but then he recalled the ability of another type of assassin. A Dev Assassin was approaching him, and he didn’t need Himitsu’s shout of warning in the distance to recognize this.

  Bryson sidestepped, dodging an attack from the invisible soldier. He used the surrounding flames to help distinguish the assassin, visually following the shifts in the inky mist. He stretched the battle out for as long as he could, until the assassin exhausted his energy and couldn’t cloak himself any longer.

  Bryson spun, catching a dagger out of the air before it struck his face. He then turned once more and sidestepped. A fist became visible as it glided past his shoulder. Soon, the rest of the assassin appeared within the black haze. Bryson grabbed the enemy’s wrist with both hands and yanked it behind his back and upward, breaking his carpals. Sweeping the assassin’s ankles, Bryson threw him to the ground, the assassin’s head slamming into the sod. Bryson took the dagger he had snagged from the air and thrust it into his throat.

  Heaving, Bryson stood tall and scanned his surroundings. The flames had dispersed, and he could see Olivia and Vuilni finishing off any foolish officers who continued to fight. They must have teleported here while he was in the thick of things. A hand touched his back, and Bryson craned his neck the other way to see Himitsu, blood and dirt coating his face.

  “Come on,” Himitsu said. “We gotta move before anyone else shows up.”

  * * *

  The group sprinted northeast, Bryson leading the charge by a considerable distance, with Toshik the closest on his heels. Every time he glanced back, he was reminded of how much faster he was than most people and had to force himself to slow down. He had Debo to thank for his unnatural speed percentage. Even Adrenians—outside of Yama—were snails to him.

  The stars disappeared as the night sky morphed from gray to orange to blue by the heart of first-day. The goal had been to escape eyesight of the teleplatforms, and they had done so successfully.

  Once satisfied, they settled down to take a break. A few people had requested rest—specifically, Flen. While most dozed off in the grass, a few stayed seated and alert. Thankfully, the grass was tall enough to hide them. Noon passed, and with it came second-night as the sun slipped behind Earth.

  The Dark and Light Realm had different day-night cycles. While the Light Realm experienced one long stretch of either moonlight or sunlight in a day, the Dark Realm experienced something a little more segmented. Their day contained four shifts: two of sunlight and two of moonlight.

  As Bryson, Himitsu, and Horos sat together under the stars. Horos grinned at Bryson. “Since being rescued from my cell in Phelos Palace, Himitsu has done nothing but rave about you, Zana Bryson. It’s an honor to properly meet the great captain of the Jestivan.”

  Bryson glanced at Himitsu, who winked his way. He then turned to Horos with a frown. “Well, nothing I’ve done would have been possible without Himitsu’s help.”

  “I believe that,” Horos said.

  “Two years ago, when we chased down Dev King Storshae to rescue Olivia, Himitsu was first to teleport to their kingdom,” Bryson said. “He wiped out dozens of officers by himself. We would have never gotten Olivia back without him.”

  Horos gave a proud smile to his son. “So modest. You left that bit of information out.”

  “I guess the impact of each of the Jestivan depends on the perspective,” Himitsu said.

  As Horos patted his son’s back, he looked back at Bryson. “What about me? What has my son told you? Does he rave about his old man?”

  Bryson hesitated, fearing that the truth would sting. Himitsu had always stayed quiet about his parents. The only reason Bryson knew so much about Ophala was because he had met her.

  Horos chuckled after Bryson’s pause. “Good. I feared he would’ve spilled all of my beans while away from me for so long.” He gazed at his son. “I’m glad you were able to respect the secrecy of my career, son.”

  “Never faltered.”

  Horos sighed and leaned back on his elbows. “So, Bryson, by now the world knows of your Branian, Thusia—or the elites do at least. But the story is beginning to spread like wildfire throughout the commonwealth. Why is it that you hide her
during opportune moments like the one we just had earlier today? She would have proved useful.”

  Bryson shrugged. “I don’t summon her unless someone needs saving that’s out of my own control. I have faith in my ability.”

  “I see that,” Horos said. “Your confidence during combat radiates from your pores. How do you handle the death toll that someone of your stature racks up?”

  Bryson paused, holding the man’s gaze. “It depends on the circumstances. But this is the nature of war. If I don’t kill them, they’ll kill me.”

  Horos nodded, whether in agreement or understanding, Bryson wasn’t sure. Himitsu, on the other hand, wasn’t a fan of the topic. “Perhaps something lighter?”

  “Like what?” Horos asked. “Shall we discuss your love interests?”

  Bryson smirked at Himitsu. “I’ve never seen Himitsu flirt with anyone. I’m convinced he’s asexual.”

  Quickly, Himitsu changed the subject. “So, Bryson, I feel confident in telling you this ...”

  “What?”

  “When we arrive at the telecluster, my father, Fane, and I—”

  “What are you doing?” Horos snapped.

  Himitsu rolled his eyes. “Mother said I can tell Bryson. She’s met him. Therefore, she knows the loyalty he has to the Light Realm.”

  Horos sighed, then crawled through the grass to find somewhere to lie down. Himitsu grinned. “He might not agree, but he’s not going to defy Mom.”

  “So what is it?” Bryson asked, sitting up straight.

  “The three of us have a mission that extends past this one. When we arrive at the telecluster, we’ll use a platform to teleport to the Archaic Kingdom. Assuming my mother is correct about these secret platforms, they should place us directly into Phelos.”

  Bryson’s right brow arched. “And if you’re planted into the palace?”

  Himitsu gave a nervous chuckle. “Well, hopefully we’re not that unlucky. There are only two in the palace. The odds should be in our favor. Otherwise, we’re sneaking our way out.”

  “And what’s the objective of this mission?”

  “We’re headed to the town of Balle, which is where Toono’s and Agnos’s orphanage was. We’ll then travel to Throno, where the Archaic Museum is.”

  Bryson nodded, understanding what it was they were trying to accomplish. “It’s basically a reconnaissance mission?”

  “Yes, we’ll be digging up leads from his orphanage and investigating the scene of his theft at the museum, trying to find out some information about him that we don’t know.”

  Bryson shook his head. “Well, we pretty much know nothing about him, so hopefully it works out.” He glanced at the sky, imagining birds soaring past. “You’ll be taking a walk through the shoes of your mother. Sounds like a spy’s work.”

  “That’s exactly what it is,” Himitsu said with an earnest look in his eyes. “Looks like I’ll be paying respects to both my parents this time. I’ve always wanted to test my abilities as a spy.”

  “You, the next Spy Pilot?”

  Himitsu dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “Have you seen what my mom has done while trapped in a prison cell in Phelos Palace? That woman is still the Pilot of Spy and Sky, and that will never change.”

  * * *

  Bryson walked next to Olivia under the sunlight of second-day. The group had covered a lot of ground since the wee hours of morning, and they were growing worried that there wasn’t any sort of telecluster out here. Noticing this, Himitsu marched ahead, determined to prove his mother’s information correct.

  Bryson coughed, a trail of tobacco smoke curling into his nostrils. He frowned and rubbed his nose before turning to Olivia. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this habit of yours.”

  Her eyes were halfway closed, as if she was too lazy to open them. She talked through the pipe that hung between her lips. “That’s too bad.”

  Resisting the temptation to snatch the pipe from her mouth, Bryson closed his eyes and eased his nerves. He hadn’t talked much to the Yvole guy she’d hunted with in the Archaic Mountains, but there was enough time to recognize the man’s tendencies. She must have embraced the man’s personality.

  “So, this Yvole guy ...” Bryson said. “What’s he like?”

  “A great man.”

  “And what’s he up to now?”

  She removed her pipe and blew out a cloud of smoke. “King Vitio sent him to Phesaw to take care of the Archain refugees.”

  Bryson snorted. “He doesn’t seem like the nurturing type.”

  Olivia’s gaze snapped toward him. “His style might be peculiar, but that doesn’t make it ineffective. He’ll do great alongside Directors Neaneuma and Buredo as they try to get the school up and running again.”

  “That will take some time,” Bryson said.

  “You’re right. That’s why it’s simply a safe haven for now.”

  Bryson looked behind them to find Toshik trailing the pack, staring blankly ahead with his hands in his pockets. If anyone needed a secluded place far away from civilization, it was the swordsman. There was something Yama-like in the way he carried himself now. And everyone knew how that story went.

  * * *

  Himitsu slowed, falling from the front of the group to join Toshik. The swordsman looked at the assassin dryly. “What? You got your daddy back. Shouldn’t you be spending your time with him?”

  Himitsu smirked and looked forward. “I’ll have plenty of time for that in the coming months. No, I’m more worried about you.”

  “I’m fine,” Toshik said.

  “Listen, I’m not going to pester you. But I wanted to let you know that while I might not always be around a corner for help, that doesn’t mean we can’t stay in touch.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Himitsu squeezed his thumb against the hilt of the sword Toshik had given him years ago. “You’ll find out soon, but my mother promised my father and me a falcon. And I’ll make sure to use it to keep in touch with you. We’re going to write to each other.”

  Himitsu nodded. “I’ve been clean for three months, and I attribute that to your friendship.”

  “Not using the word ‘sober’ yet, eh?”

  “No,” Himitsu muttered. “Not yet, but I’m getting there. My dad will help. The moment Fane and I got him out of Phelos, he had wanted to celebrate with a drink from a tavern.” He paused and sighed. “That’s when I had to tell him the truth of my alcohol abuse. The moment he’d heard, he found a waste bin and poured his glass into it.”

  Himitsu scanned the group ahead of them: Bryson, Olivia, and Vuilni as a trio, and Fane and Horos as a duo. Flen was the only outlier, walking alone at the center. “I know you feel like you’ve lost your support system, but I’m not going to let that happen,” Himitsu said. “We will stay in touch, through thick and thin.”

  Toshik didn’t respond, keeping his eyes forward. Himitsu slapped his hand on Toshik’s back before picking up his pace and joining his dad and Fane.

  * * *

  The sun was approaching the horizon by the time Fane called for everyone’s attention. They followed his gaze to the ground as he crouched down. A thick, circular slab of stone, a gray teleplatform, lay in the grass. There weren’t any markers around it. In fact, the grass nearly climbed its edge.

  Horos scanned their surroundings. There wasn’t a single sign, building, or natural formation—just flatlands until the horizon. “They aren’t worried about security because who the hell would travel out here? It’s hundreds of leagues away from any village, town, city, forest, or mountain.”

  Bryson nodded. “And you wouldn’t even notice there’s anything over here unless you walked right into it. The grass is too tall.”

  “We’re fairly close to the Edge,” Olivia said, gazing toward the east. “We can’t tell, but it’s likely that we’re closer than we think.”

  Toshik, who had ventured ahead, said, “The rest are scattered randomly around. I’ve found t
wo more.”

  Fane stood tall and sighed. “Alright, all of us need to set a perimeter.” He looked back at Flen. “You get to work.”

  Bryson found a spot and knelt within the meadow, peeking through the upper reaches of the grass. Even with the inconspicuous area of the platforms, he would have thought there’d be some semblance of security in the vicinity. Maybe not the likes of Toono or Storshae, but someone worth taking seriously. The fact that he was disappointed by this was worrisome.

  The sun sinking behind the horizon signaled midnight’s approach. As the Dark Realm entered first-night, the group grew impatient. “How much longer, Flen?” Himitsu asked.

  The Dev servant was hidden in the grass, tinkering with one of the teleplatforms. “Five minutes! I only need a few more sketches!”

  Bryson hadn’t slept in twenty-two hours—not that he could really call it “sleep”. Two hours was more of a nap than anything else. He thought he had control of his exhaustion, but now that the sky grew black, his eyelids became heavy. He despised the Dark Realm’s day-night cycle—it toyed with his perception.

  “Dad, do you feel that?” said the voice of Himitsu.

  There was a pause, but eventually Horos replied, “Yes. Dev Assassins, and a large number ... my guess is eight to ten of them.”

  This revelation woke Bryson. His eyes spread wide, his heartbeat racing. He had all the faith in the world in his skill, but to go against ten invisible opponents would have been suicide. His heart dropped into his stomach after hearing Fane’s next words. “We can’t take on ten Dev Assassins. We’d have to prolong the battle as long as we could, try to wait for them to uncloak.”

  “They’d likely switch shifts,” Horos said. “Attack separately in two groups of five—stagger the timing.”

  Bryson’s breathing grew heavy, his head now on a swivel. He tried to track the assassins’ movements through disruptions in the grass.

  “Letting me die wasn’t part of the deal!” Flen shouted.

  “Shut up and do your job!” Toshik barked. “We’ll do ours.”

  “Uh, Dad ...”

  Bryson didn’t like Himitsu’s unsteady tone. Then Horos cursed and said, “Scratch that, there’s north of fifteen.”