Rise of Centuria: Fall of Centuria Volume 2 Read online

  “Thank you, Ptolemy,” Cabol continued. “This meeting has officially begun. From here on, if you choose to stay you agree to keep what you witness a secret. You may not even tell your loved ones about the matter that takes place in this great hall.” He closed his eyes to a squinting glare and gave everyone a chance to leave the hall. No one moved. “Sarella, please begin.”

  Sarella’s eyes glowed a vibrant white matching the color of her hair. The table glowed with the same luminescence. Everyone stood. The warriors stepped back expecting some form of magic that could hurt them. Agar stood by his lady’s side unafraid of the magic taking place. A thin grin spread across his face under his thick beard and it twitched. He was amused by the reaction of his companions for he did not fear the magical arts.

  Ptolemy knew it was time for him to act. He opened the Book of Stars and began reading the ancient symbols in a tongue that Gathar and the warriors could not understand but the members of the Council could. Gathar felt something cold on his chest—the talisman! Ptolemy finished a verse and nobody was speaking anymore, but everyone around the table could hear a conversation taking place. The table was speaking. It took a moment before they realized the voices were of the royal family of Chugean.

  The members of the Council watched Sarella and Ptolemy in awe despite their own skills in the magical arts. They were creating something more than magic. It was a mystical connection between man and nature. They all felt it. Despite the cold talisman on Gathar’s chest, a warm feeling spread through him and everyone else in the hall. Even the room started to feel warmer. The shiny surface of the table turned to a green sea of water with gentle waves rippling.

  Faces appeared above the surface of the water briefly and disappeared. Ptolemy, holding the Book of Stars in one hand, reached out with his free hand to touch the table. The waves reflected off his green eyes as if they were meant to be blended together. He felt a surge of energy pour into his body when he made contact with the table’s surface. Streaks of lightning shone in his eyes and the image on the table changed. The voices of the royal family faded. All went black for a moment. Ptolemy read more from the Book of Stars and an image of the crater that was once the great city of Centuria appeared. Although it was the ruins of Centuria the image was majestic. The hillsides were multicolored layers of earth neatly stacked over one another. The sun was just starting to rise over the nearby trees, casting a soft gentle glow over the lands. Dried leaves were carried through the air and tumbled across the ground, yet something was missing from the vision. There were no animals and no people around, just as Gathar and his group remembered seeing at the site. The image stopped at a nearby cliff with a small opening. Gathar recalled seeing the exact same place before they decided to head for Salidon and share the news.

  Gathar knew immediately what had to be done. “I have seen this place. It lies on the western edge of the ruins. We must travel back and enter through that small opening. Whatever it is you seek has to be in there. I feel it in my bones.” He grabbed the talisman and the cold froze his hand. The talisman turned an icy blue and stiffened as if it was warning him of something dangerous. He quickly let the talisman fall back on his chest and the cold slowly evaporated in his hand.

  Sarella’s eyes stopped glowing and the image on the table disappeared. “You know of this place?” she asked as if very astonished by his response.

  “Yes, I saw it as we left Centuria.”

  “Do you realize what this entrance leads to?”

  “I’m afraid not, but I have an idea.”

  “This small opening leads to the catacombs that surrounded and went under the city of Centuria.” Gathar flinched. “The catacombs go deeper than even the tunnels of Nydraia and the nes kaliba.” Gathar looked at her suspiciously with the mention of the two.

  “How do you know about Nydraia and the nes kaliba under Centuria?”

  Sarella answered bitterly, “I am a shaman. I am one with the planet and she tells me about all living things human or not.”

  “Fair enough.” Gathar nodded, stepped back, and gave a slight bow. Agar grunted. Members of the Council started whispering amongst themselves. Thoris listened in without them noticing he could hear them.

  Ben spoke up, “Aye! What is all of this about? Are you saying we have to return to the wasteland that was once Centuria? It is nothing but rock and rubble.”

  Cabol answered, “That is correct, Ben. There is an artifact deep in the catacombs that will rid Palatovia of Lord Emalf. Simple magic alone will not be enough to get him and his cursed spawns out of this world. Down in the catacombs lays an artifact that Lord Emalf has been greedily trying to get his hands on. We knew of the catacombs but did not know where an entrance was located. Now we have the answer. Sarella, you will lead the group into the catacombs after you get there. Your magic and relationship to the earth will prove ever so useful in the darkness underground. There are many dangerous creatures down in the catacombs and it would be wise for all of you to stick together. Find the artifact and make it back in one piece. We are counting on you.”

  Ptolemy asked, “How are we supposed to find this relic you speak of in the dark underground?”

  “Your Book of Stars in your hand will guide you. Sarella’s magic can light the way when torches are insufficient. You have to keep faith in yourself and your abilities, young one.”

  Ben spoke next, “This is a lot of pressure and responsibility to put on such a young boy. Need I remind you that he is only ten?” He turned toward Gathar. “Sir, he is your son. What will you have him do?”

  Gathar thought for a moment and let out a heavy sigh. “He will come with us.” Ptolemy looked at his father and smiled. He felt a sense of being wanted and needed. It was a feeling that he had not felt for months, and when he was in the demon form the emotion that he had most of the time was anger. A horse neighed loudly outside of the great hall.

  Ptolemy’s smile vanished for he recognized Beth’s call all too well. By the pitch of her neigh he knew something was wrong outside. He ran to the door that he came through and paused just before opening them. Beth’s neighing had completely stopped. There was a dead silence outside that sent chills through his bones. Adrenaline pumping through him, Ptolemy opened the door ready for a fight or to find Beth lying on her side. As the door swung open he was met by a group of hunters trying to steal his horse.

  “Get away from her!” Ptolemy yelled with a high-pitched shriek. The hunters had wrapped ropes around her and put a muzzle over her nose to silence her. She kicked and turned trying to fight the hunters, but they controlled her movements with the ropes. Ptolemy became angry.

  Gathar told everyone, “Stay back. The boy can handle his own.” The hunters laughed at Ptolemy’s emotional plea to free Beth. The laughter fueled his anger into rage. Ptolemy raised his hands and clapped them together while whispering ancient words. The hunters let go of the ropes and held their hands firmly over their ears. In their minds loud thunderous crashes repeated over and over. Blood started pouring from their ears and through their fingers. In agony and great fear of what would happen next, they fled.

  Breathing heavily from pure frustration, Ptolemy walked over to Beth and removed her muzzle. He rubbed the side of her head and said, “Everything will be all right.” With his magic Ptolemy untied the ropes restraining her while keeping his hands free to provide comfort.

  Ptolemy climbed up onto Beth’s back and turned to his father. “Father, I do not regret my actions. For Beth is a part of me and those crooked hunters thrive on terrorizing people, stealing and poaching. I have met demons with better souls than theirs.”

  Gathar nodded in understanding, “Yes, son, sometimes we have to stand up for what is right but be wary of whose feet you step on. Go tend to Beth’s needs and come back soon. We need to get moving back to Centuria and the catacombs. It will be dark soon. The creatures of the night do not play games nor fear magic, especially in the Dark Forest.”

  Gathar returned to his party and a
sked them to prepare, once again, to pack up and leave on another trip. Ben knew the request was an open invitation and not an order, though most of Gathar’s followers wanted to remain at his side for he provided a purpose and a sense of greatness that no other person could.

  Ungo, Ben, and Thoris agreed to join him in the quest to the catacombs without knowing why they were going or what they were looking for. Reznek spoke to them, “I plan to accompany you. I see you are questioning the purpose of all this, but the answers will come when necessary. Gathar, I know your historical opinion about the use of magic. Do try and have an open mind for magic may be all we have left to stand up against the creatures from another world.”

  Gathar looked at Reznek strangely. He was dumbfounded that Reznek knew a lot about him and he had never even heard of the name Reznek before. “Where are you from, Reznek?” Gathar asked.

  “I am from the far east, a place that few know of. There are more important matters at hand than my place of origin at this time.”

  “Indeed.”

  Thoris walked up beside Gathar and said, “Sir, we should inform the Chugean generals and the army of our leave. Would you like me to do it?”

  “Yes, Thoris. That would be most helpful. Thank you! I will inform my family myself.”

  Thoris headed for the Chugean general’s quarters on the far side of the castle. There were warriors training on the grounds with shiny armor, sharp blades, and steel shields that shimmered in the sunlight. The sounds brought back memories of his days in Centuria preparing for a real fight. Before the demons started attacking the city, the Centurian army would be up before daybreak in the heavenly mess hall chowing down on fresh baked bread and roasted game. Then they would head to the training grounds and sprawl with dummies or each other. Captains of the battalions set up instruction for which moves each warrior needed to work on by observing them closely in practice. Thoris was made a captain after proving his skill with many of the weapons. The generals were impressed by his leadership characteristics and weapon skills and placed him with General Gathar personally to refine his skills.

  The warriors of Chugean stopped and lowered their weapons as Thoris, clearly in Centurian armor, walked passed. He nodded to them to show his appreciation as they bowed their heads in a moment of silence. After crossing the training grounds he stood at a set of double doors trimmed in gold and made of a solid exotic, and very expensive, wood. Even after being hung long ago Thoris could still smell the wood as if it were freshly cut. He knocked on the door with a rhythmic tap-tap-tap and waited. It did not take long for someone to answer the door.

  A woman clad in shiny armor answered, “Ah! Thoris of Centuria. What can we do for you?” Thoris looked at her up and down and knew he had seen her somewhere before but couldn’t quite remember where. She greeted him so kindly, and he felt very welcomed to the quarters.

  “I have come to give news from General Gathar of Centuria. He will be heading back to Centuria with a small group including myself. The Council has assigned him a task, but we cannot speak of it at this time. Forgive me for my bluntness.”

  “Understood, Thoris. Is there anything we can do to aid you in this assignment? Gear? Weapons? Volunteers? Pie perhaps?” she said with a smile. Her face turned a dark shade of pink when giving the offer.

  “I think we will be okay. I’m sorry, but have we met before?” he asked.

  “Yes. Yes, we have.” She laughed and changed the topic. “Best of luck to you and the group. Let us know if you change your mind about the offer. It will remain standing.” Thoris took the comment as a cue that their conversation had come to an end and excused himself, still wondering why she looked so familiar.

  Ben and Ungo accompanied Gathar to the home where Angela, Mort, and Vance were staying. Kimberly Ringhart, an old friend of the family, had plenty of empty space in their second home to take in guests. The Ringharts were not a wealthy family, but they managed their coin well and placed high importance of having a good home to live in. They had owned a home in Centuria and here they liked helping travelers and stragglers when the saloons were full to capacity. The house was large, very old, surrounded by a covered white porch and sat on fifty acres of farm land. The stairs to the porch creaked loudly as Gathar, Ben, and Ungo approached the front door. Kimberly had heard their steps and was at the door before they finished knocking. Angela could be seen in the hallway standing behind her. Gathar looked at his wife and was a little disturbed by the sour expression on her face. Her eyes were narrowed, eyebrows furrowed, and lips pursed. He looked back at Kimberly to see if her expression could explain why his wife appeared so bitter. There were no clues. Kimberly welcomed them in and offered some fresh lemonade. They agreed to have some and took a seat in the dining room. The dining room had a large rectangular table covered in fancy dishware and fine cloths not native to the area. The cloths were hand-woven and made of exotic multicolored materials from the islands far out in the Black Sea, past Serpent’s Current. The dishware was freshly polished silver. When commented on, Kimberly said, “Yes, don’t they look nice? Angela was kind enough to sit and polish them. I have never seen them shine so brilliantly. It is such a delight to have guests who are so helpful around the house. Mort and Vance have been great working on the land in their spare time. It has been difficult without Geoffrey around, but I am ever-so-grateful for the company. He will return soon.”

  Gathar, Ben, and Ungo did not comment and gave her a moment of respectful silence with hopes that she was correct. Geoffrey was a great man who put other people’s needs ahead of his own. One time he literally took his shirt off and put it on a stranger who had been mugged and stripped of his clothing. He brought the stranger home and provided him a place to stay for several days so he could recover from his wounds. Kimberly, as kind-hearted as her husband, took the stranger in with open arms. She spent a lot of time with the stranger and had fine conversation with him. On the day he left, he opened up and told Kimberly that he was of the royal family in Khalan. She gasped, hugged him dearly, and wished him a safe journey home. Several days after the stranger left, four strong horses were brought to the Ringharts as a thank-you gift for their kindness and hospitality.

  Kimberly wiped a few tears from her cheek and went into the kitchen. Angela walked over to Gathar, embraced him for a moment, and took a seat beside him. The bitter expression on her face was gone and she held a cup of lemonade still plenty full. Gathar was served a cup and when he took a drink, he had puckered his lips from the extremely sour lemonade. He knew immediately afterward why Angela had given him the “angry” expression as they entered the Ringharts’ home. She was not angry at all. She had just taken a sip of the unexpectedly bitter drink and was reacting in silence. Each of the warriors had a similar reaction when they took their first sip. They quickly set their cups down unsure of what to do with it next.

  Gathar spoke first, “Angela, we have to head back to Centuria and do something for the Council of the Elemental Guardians. It is a task that has been entrusted to us, but we do not know specific details nor can we share what we do know.”

  “I understand. Your work has always been mysterious to me. It does not come as a surprise that you must go again.”

  “I appreciate your understanding.” Kimberly walked back into the dining room carrying biscuits she had baked earlier with Angela. Angela looked around at the warriors and nodded after she noticed the look of suspicion on their faces. Angela was well known to make delicious foods back in Centuria. They accepted the biscuits gleefully and Kimberly forced a smile. A silver tray with butter and a spreader that matched the silverware was set on the table between the warriors. They each took a small amount and spread it across their soft biscuits. The conversation shifted.

  Ben spoke, “Where has Geoffrey gone off to?” directing his question to Kimberly. The warriors were aware that Geoffrey was gone, but they did not know the details.

  Kimberly looked at him with wide open eyes. “Well, he set off for Khalan over a week
ago to trade and bring home necessities and has not returned. A messenger was supposed to come when he arrived in Khalan to let me know that he made it there safely. Yet, I have not received any such news.”

  Kimberly was about to continue when they heard a high-pitched bird cry. Ben, Thoris, and Ungo looked at Gathar, and then back at Kimberly waiting for a response. Angela was the first to do anything. She began moving toward the nearest door with cat-like speed. She was not afraid to jump into a fight no matter if the odds were in her favor or not. The high-pitched cry sounded a second time.

  A large bird flew overhead with a wingspan well over twenty feet. They recognized it as an Éan. It was told that when a tremendous change in the environment was about to take place an Éan would appear. Gathar recalled seeing a similar, if not the same, bird flying over Centuria days before the demons attacked. It had been spotted flying over Centuria on the side near the Dark Forest. Now, an Éan was flying over Chugean crying loudly as if giving warning to all of its inhabitants.

  Gathar ran out into the field to get a better view of the bird. He could smell its musty, torn, and mangy feathers even though it was over fifty yards away. The Éan looked like it had been viciously attacked. Dried blood caked the feathers on its body and there was a large crack in its beak. One of its talons was bent at an awkward angle and broken. The Éan shrieked loudly again with its deafening cry. Gathar squinted his eyes and Kimberly threw her hands over her ears. She cried out, “What is going on out here?”

  “My lady,” Ben said. “It is the Éan. Many say the bird can predict the future, but others believe it just has senses so keen to the world that gives it abilities like no other. However, the Éan does not normally cry out this way and it looks injured. Do you have any fresh meat? We could use it as bait to bring this bird down and see if we can tend to its wounds. It would be pure luck if the Éan takes the bait, but it would be well worth the effort.”