Gate Lords: The Rise of LegbaA Chapter by Ricardy Ricot This is an excerpt Gate Lords: The Rise of Legba
Ricardy Ricot
Copyright © 2012 by Ricardy Ricot
Published by Ricot Publishing
I
Time slowed. And Legba felt at peace. He
had just opened the First Gate. He was acutely aware of his surroundings, of
the slightest breeze on his skin. He could taste the dryness in the air. The
tiniest of noises sounded like ruckus to his ears. And his eyes bore sharply
through the enveloping darkness, making sense of the mural details of the
hallway. The guards were already catching up with
him. Six men armed with spears and wearing breastplates were running down the
hallway, coming right at him and yelling. In the darkness, Legba smiled. Six
were perhaps a bit too much for him in his current weakened condition. But he
had to get rid of them. They would get in the way of his search. “Surrender now,” said a gruff voice “and
you might live to see another day”. Legba chuckled. “You are the ones who
should leave me alone if you value your life. My purpose here is no concern of
yours,” he said. “Such insolence!” replied the same person
in that gruff voice. He was probably their officer. “Seize him at once!” And so the guards advanced on him. Since
the alley didn’t offer enough space, they came down by two, spears first. Legba felt like just standing there and do
nothing. He felt like just waiting, waiting, and waiting forever. It was such a
bother to defend himself, such a bother to dodge the incoming attack. But he
took a grip on himself. That was the trouble with opening the First Gate. While
greatly enhancing the senses, it also created a sense a detachment from reality
in the one who opened it, making him feel weary of everything, even of life.
Some people had even died of starvation that way, finding it too troublesome to
even feed themselves. It was a useful but dangerous power. For Legba’s enhanced vision, the guards
were progressing in slow motion. He suddenly leaped forward, unsheathing his
sword as he went and slashing at the neck of the closest guard. He fell on the
floor, gasping for breath, not quite realizing what had happened. Red stained
his golden breastplate. Legba continued his deadly advance, not
even giving his opponents the time to be startled. He was slashing at necks, at
arms, at legs, at any open skin he could find, and dodging spear points. The
guards couldn’t move their spears at ease in such a restricted space, which put
Legba at an advantage. One he was fully using. In the end, he was the only one left
standing, and his sword was dripping wet from blood. They didn’t give him as
much of a challenge as he had expected. Pathetic. Legba could clearly feel its presence now.
What he was looking for. Before, it was just a faint existence, now he almost
felt it pulsing, calling for him. Maybe it was awakened by the freshly spilled
blood. He couldn’t understand why Amokh had chosen
this god forsaken temple, in this wretched corner of Vallanya to hide it.
Didn’t he realize how much more powerful it would make him, how strongly it
would establish his authorities over the other gods? True that Amokh ruled over
the gods, but he couldn’t stop them from squabbling and waging wars against
each others. He himself had to suppress rebellions aimed at dethroning him
along the years. Yet, with this, certainly no god would dare dispute his
sovereignty. Legba burst into the priests’ quarters.
They were awake. They started yelling at him, but when they saw his crimson
sword, they hastily retreated. He paid them no mind. He could still feel the object of his
search pulling at him, but lower this time, as if coming from below ground. He
could see no trap door on the floor. He did not have the time nor the patience
to find a path. So, he opened the Second Gate. A considerable amount of strength rushed
through his arms and legs, filling them. He hasn’t felt so powerful in a very
long time. The Second Gate bestowed enormous strength and stamina when opened.
Few people have ever reached that stage. Few could even open the first Gate.
Yet, he knew he couldn’t sustain opening the Second Gate for more than a few
minutes. It was too risky. He quickly stomped on the ground and as expected, it
gave way. He fell into a large empty room. By cracking, the ground had produced
a massive cloud of dust and he started sneezing. He always hated dust. He
immediately let the Second Gate close itself. The room he fell into was rather large and
circular with walls seemingly cut from stone. There was no door that he could
see. Probably one was hidden in the wall and would only open at the activation
of the right mechanism. Torches hung from the walls and shed their light over a
crudely made stone altar placed at the center. On top of that altar, laid a
sword with a bare and slightly curved dark blade. The hilt was silver without
any decoration. Exactly what Legba came looking for tonight. The pulse he was feeling all this time came
directly from that odd-looking sword. That was probably the most powerful
weapon in the entire world. LightCaster it was called. Rumors had it that it
was forged by the first god to walk the surface of the world, Ammonra the
GateKeeper himself, many millennia ago. Now that he was up close, Legba could
feel a formidable amount of evil and hatred emanating from the sword. It was
akin to a bottomless pit of evil. So much evil that it was suffocating. And
Legba was trying hard not to succumb to it. He moved his hand to seize LightCaster and
he felt the power. Enough power to lay waste to cities, to topple kingdoms and
even threaten the gods on their thrones. Certainly with this much power, he
would have the right to rule. “You don’t want to touch that thing, young
man,” came a voice behind him. There, stood an old man dressed in a long
free flowing grey robe. His scalp was bald and his chin was closely shaved. The
grand-priest most likely. Legba didn’t see him coming, nor did he hear him. And
he could have sworn he wasn’t in the room earlier. Maybe he was another Gate
user and came down the same way as Legba. Or perhaps there really was a hidden
door somewhere around. “Who are you, old man?” asked Legba. “My name is Fra. And I am grand-priest in
this temple dedicated to Ammonra. But who I am is of no matter. What matters is
that you desecrated this place tonight and came to steal what Emperor Amokh
himself gave us for safekeeping many generations ago.” “Oh. Ammonra is it? He died eons ago. I’m
sure he wouldn’t mind my little adventure here tonight.” “You blaspheme, child! It is true that Our
Lord died saving us from the shadows. Nevertheless he still watches over his
children. He still lives inside us, among us and continues protecting us every
day. This is how strong his love for us is.” Legba couldn’t decide if he felt puzzled or
if he just felt like chuckling. He hated theology. A bunch of nonsense,
according to him. He never really paid much attention to religious doctrines. “But I digress,” continued the priest. “The
matter at hand stays that this sword is way too dangerous and that you don’t
have the slightest idea what you are meddling with.” “LightCaster” “What?” “LightCaster. It’s name is LightCaster.”
Legba was motioning to the sword on the altar. “How? How did you learn this name? The gods
themselves took care to erase all records of its existence! They went to great
length to make it as if it was never forged! Who are you?” As he was talking, the priest’s expression
started to change. His confidence was fading. And fear replaced it. Legba
grinned but did not answer him. “As a servant of Lords Ammonra and Amokh,”
continued the grand-priest when he saw he would get no response, “it is my duty
to prevent this weapon from falling into the wrong hands, even at the cost of
my own life. Its propensity for destruction is way too formidable. So, young
stranger, prepare yourself. Tonight, you draw your last breath!” And he opened
the Second Gate. Not at all impressed, Legba reached and
seized LightCaster.
Arky was annoyed. No, she was more than
annoyed. She was upset. She kept gravitating from one flock of politically
important and influential people to another. They each made sure to personally
congratulate her, yet she felt empty inside. She felt a stranger in this ball
being organized in her honor. She had never asked for it. She was Arky of House Hoheimer, the royal
family of Vallanya, and as such, she could never escape fame, no matter how
hard she tried. She was the second born of King Teon and Queen Elisa, the
beloved rulers of Vallanya. They were much respected and for just cause. Under
their reign, the kingdom has been very prosperous. They continued the forward
looking style of government established by previous Hoheimer rulers many
centuries ago. Technological innovations were flourishing. Arts and the
sciences were greatly encouraged and even patronized by the royal house and
other noble families. Some say that was even why Hoheimer was the longest
living dynasty apart from the immortals, of which, some have been ruling since
the Saving of the world. Arky knew since she was a little girl that
her older brother, Mal, would be the one to inherit the kingdom one day. The heir
to the throne was always the first born, no matter the gender. Arky was fine
with all of it. From her point of view, it was more of a blessing. She was way
more interested in academia than in state affairs, which she sometimes finds
quite boring. So, having no responsibility, she had the opportunity to dive as
much as she wanted in the study of the Mathematical sciences, History,
Chemistry, and Biology. Though she was not quite nineteen years old, she
understood the motions of objects in space and rates of change as much as any
other scholar or perhaps even better. She was working on two significant projects
at the time. On one side, she was helping the royal architects design a faster
and more military potent ship, one that would reinforce their naval supremacy
over the Tergrian Sea and keep the Amokhian Empire in check. On the other, she
was reconstructing the history of conflicts between that nation and hers. She
wanted to understand why they were always at odds, except when they had to
accept some temporary truce for the benefit of their respective subjects. Yet,
her innocent life has been abruptly shattered. The Malakhian envoy had come yesterday.
Malakhia, a powerful ally of Vallanya, had a weird government system. The
throne was not hereditary. At the death of the King, the most powerful nobles,
called electors, would gather and elect a new ruler. Sometimes, the new ruler
would come from within a Malakhian noble house, but most often, it would be
from a house foreign to Malakhia. Almost always, they would choose someone from
a foreign royal house, yet one who would have no chance of inheriting the
throne in his own country. According to the Malakhians, their system prevented
conflicts of power among them and kept them united. The Malakhan throne was empty again. So,
they sent their representatives toward Vallanya, their ally. Who would be
better to rule Malakhia than Princess Arky of House Hoheimer? That powerful
House who inspired fear and awe among all the nations of the world. And, as simple
as that, Arky was offered the Malakhan throne. “This is such a great occasion” was saying
Reim, the chief envoy, cheerfully. “Imagine it! An Hoheimer on the throne of
Malakhia! Both countries united by the same blood. I’m sure that under your reign, Pincess
Arky, Malakhia will usher in a state of
progress like it had never known before. Or should I start calling you Your
Majesty now?” He chuckled. “I am delighted by the amount of trust you
place in my abilities, count Reim,” replied Arky. “But I’m afraid you
overestimate me.” “Nonsense!” Reim’s tone was always ever so
jovial. “You are of Hoheimer blood. Descendant of the Great Baes himself,
companion of Ammonra during the Saving! Very few Houses can claim such close
proximity of blood to one of the Heroes! As it is known, they seldom sired
children. Baes and Amokh are the only known exceptions.” Reim was referring to the popular, yet not
proven, belief that one of the Heroes created House Hoheimer. According to
legends, Baes used to rule Vallanya. But seven centuries ago, he tired of
politics, sired a son and vanished. Nobody has ever been able to find him.
Meanwhile, his son started the Hoheimer dynasty and the line has been unbroken
ever since. Since Baes is one of the immortals, the Hoheimer are regarded
almost as gods and some people have even taken to worship them. But, it was
silly. Arky didn’t feel different than any other person. King Teon had hurried to accept the
Malakhian proposal, of course. Such opportunity to put another Hoheimer at the
head of another country couldn’t be left to pass. Moreover, both countries will
be drawn closer. And the better they would stand their ground against the
Amokhian Empire. Besides, how could he decline giving away his daughter to the
Malakhians as their Queen? Such refusal could have hampered their diplomatic
relations and created mistrust, and that was the last thing he wanted. Everyone of some importance was at the ball
tonight. And those who couldn’t come themselves have sent their representatives.
It was a great event after all. One that was very popular among the Vallanyans. The Amokhian ambassador was present as
well, more somber looking than usual. Diplomacy commanded that he present his
congratulations to the soon to be new Queen of Malakhia. But no doubt, he had
used all of his influence to prevent the crown from being offered to her. But
tonight’s ball was proof that he had failed. Arky caught herself wishing he
hadn’t. “This is a great day for both Vallanya and
Malakhia,” was saying the duchess of Bailis. “I am sure you will be a good
ruler, loved and respected by your subjects.” But Arky wasn’t paying attention to her.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Mal entering the room. He was
accompanied by Tara, her childhood’s friend. Happy to find a pretext to slip
away, Arky formulated a vague excuse to the duchess, and without waiting for
her reply, she headed toward her older brother. He was dressed in that azure admiral
uniform he reserved for formal ceremonies. At twenty-three, he was already
among the most decorated in the Vallanyan navy. His stature was imposing, which
contributed to his air of authority. But people who knew him noticed that he
had above all, a playful and friendly personality. Mal was addressing Tara. “Look who’s coming
to grace us of her presence. Her Majesty the Queen of Malakhia herself!” Tara giggled and made a show of bowing to
Arky. “How may I serve you tonight, Your Majesty?” And both Arky’s brother and
her best friend laughed. “Don’t you dare!” exclaimed Arky. “For you,
I will always be Arky.” “Oh, we know, little sister.” said Mal.
“But I just couldn’t resist, if only to see your face.” And he started laughing
anew. The three of them embraced. “It seems only yesterday that you would
eagerly request fairy tales from me.” sighed Mal. “How time has passed!” “And for a good cause. I’m not so little
anymore” “What Mal is trying to say is that we will
miss you, Arky,” intervened Tara. Her eyes seemed damp, but it could be an
illusion caused by the illumination in the ballroom. “But I present you with my
congratulations. You will be the youngest ruler in the whole world. Imagine
that!” “And when I succeed to the throne of
Vallanya,” added Mal, “we will dominate a good part of the land. Not even Amokh
and his immortals will be able to break us.” “But what if this is not my calling? What
if I’m not up to the task?” replied Arky bitterly. “You will become accustomed to it, little
sister. You are of Hoheimer blood. You are more than up to that task” But Arky wasn’t convinced. She still didn’t
want to leave her father’s palace. Here was her home. Here was where she grew
up. Elsewhere, she would be just a stranger. But she kept her feelings to
herself. She didn’t want to disappoint them. As genuinely nice as Mal was, his
world revolved around duty. According to him, anything that would secure the
advancement of Vallanya is worth dying for. And right now, that was Arky’s
coronation as Queen of Malakhia. And Tara herself wouldn’t understand Arky
turning away a crown. So, Arky kept quiet on the subject of her
true thoughts about her coming departure. And the conversation drifted to
childhood memories.
“Seven more days and she will be gone.” It was dark in the bedchamber. King Teon
found comfort in the reassuring warmth of the Queen’s body next to him. Despite
the years, she was still so supple and her curves didn’t cease to amaze him.
But tonight, his mind was elsewhere. “What kind of father am I?” Elisa reached for his cheek with her hand
and forced a kiss onto him. “You did what was necessary.” “Yes, I did,” replied Teon, “and that’s why
it hurts. I’m afraid I’m more a king than a father.” Ever since the last Malakhian King became
sick and was bedridden, Teon was dreading for this moment. When his diplomat at
the court there reported the poor prognostics concluded by the Malakhian
doctors, Teon knew he couldn’t escape fate and was bracing himself for the
worst. As
predicted, the Malakhians came asking for his daughter as their new monarch. As
a father, he was heartbroken. He couldn’t see himself sending Arky away. As a
king, he knew he couldn’t refuse. Now, more than ever, Vallanya and Malakhia
needed to stand united. It is true that Amokhia was on the edge on
civil war. But his spies reported that the Emperor sent secret requests for
help to the kingdoms of Crede and Qin. Now, those two nations were gathering
troops, preparing for war. Who could know what they would do after smashing the
rebellion? Wouldn’t it be logical to send their troops against enemy countries
next? Or maybe the looming civil war itself was just a plot to justify
preparing for wars. Knowing Amokh, Teon could very well imagine him pushing his
empire on the brink of chaos just to appease his enemies, lessening their
worries, and then strike with full force when they were expecting it the less. Teon shook his head. He was beginning to
have a headache. Maybe he was thinking too much about it. Sometimes, his crown
felt a burden to him. Too much responsibility. Too much to worry about. He
could never be free. And with a sigh, he realized he had just condemned his
only daughter to the same kind of situation. Again, he thought he was an awful
father. Elisa could read his pain on his face. “She
is strong, you know. Like her father. She is so stubborn. She will accomplish
whatever she sets her mind on.” “Oh, I never doubted her will. She and her
brother are of a kind. Whatever the obstacle, she always faces it head on. And
she possesses an amazingly beautiful mind. Which she takes from you. I only
regret I didn’t ask her opinion on the matter.” “Had you asked her,” replied Elisa, “she
would have accepted without hesitating, because she knows that’s what would
please you and that’s what her country needs.” “You may be right.” Elisa pulled closer to her husband and
started caressing his chest. “The academicians will have trouble coping with
her absence.” She said. “That’s right. If I remember correctly, she
was helping Matos coming up with a better architecture for our ships. It’s such
a shame she will not be able to finish it. She took this project to heart.
Moreover, it could have helped our naval power greatly.” “The entire royal court will sincerely will
miss her. Arky have always had the talent to befriend the most taciturn of
people. Her presence always brought laughter. I think…I think we should
consider ourselves blessed to have raised such endearing children.” “Yes,” agreed Teon, “I think you’re right.”
It was pitch black. Yet Arky was not too
affected. Ever since she was little, she had always noticed she could see better
in the dark than the average person. She could still distinguish shapes fairly
well and move about unhindered. The servants’ section of the palace was
silent at this time of the night. They were probably all sleeping already.
Apparently, the preparations from the ball that took place earlier had
exhausted them. Arky had chosen to go through this area of the palace because
fewer guards patrolled it, which greatly decreased the likelihood of her being
spotted. She didn’t want anyone to recognize her. Her heart kept racing in her chest. And she
was feeling guilty. Despite her love for her parents, she had resolved to flee
their home. And she still thought it was a stupid idea. Nevertheless, she
wasn’t going to change her plans. Despite giving it much thought, she
couldn’t bring herself to accept the crown of Malakhia. She wasn’t ready. She
had the impression that if she were to go to Malakhia now, she would forsake
her life, that she would miss her purpose in the world. Besides, there was so much
more she wanted to learn. She wanted adventure. She wanted to be herself, to
feel liberated. On the morrow, the servants would find the
note she had left in her bedchamber and would bring it to her parents. They
would have to understand why she had to leave. Hopefully, they would forgive
her. She made the promise to return when she was ready. But tonight, her
adventure began. She was out in the open now, in the royal
gardens. It was a full moon, which didn’t accommodate her. She wanted the less light
possible, so no one could recognize her. If she were to be found sneaking out
of the palace, her plans would come to an abrupt stop. And there was still the
question of the guards at the royal gates. She had a lie prepared for them. She
would pretend to be a serving girl sent to carry a message to one the
noblewomen’s lover out in the city. She had to admit that it was a lame excuse
to exit the palace at this late hour, but she didn’t have sufficient time to
elaborate a better one. That one had to do. She looked down at her outfit. A simple
dirty dress she had “borrowed” from one of the servants in the kitchen. That
would help her play the part of the serving girl. She carried a small pouch
filled with Vallanyan dukats at her waist. If her initial ploy were to fail,
she thought, she could always try to bribe the guards. She was reticent about
this idea though. It would be unsettling to learn that the royal guards could
be corrupted. As she was making her way toward the gates,
a hand came to rest on her should. She spun around, startled, and came face to
face with…Mal, a look of puzzlement on his face. “What are you doing out at this time,
Arky?” he asked. Arky felt her heart sinking in her chest.
That was the end, she thought. Mal had caught her even before her escape
started. She could already imagine the disappointment on her father’s face. And
she couldn’t bring herself to face that. “Oh, I see,” continued Mal “Meeting a
secret lover tonight?” Arky blushed. “Y…Yes, that’s it…” But
Mal’s smile faded. He seemed to have just noticed Arky’s outfit. He had just
realized Arky was wearing the livery of House Hoheimer, complete with a bear
patched on her chest, the symbol of the house. Mal’s gaze became interrogative. He didn’t
say another word. He just stood there, waiting. Arky revealed everything. Since
she was already caught, there wasn’t any way to extricate herself from this
mess. She just had to deal with it and face the consequences. By tomorrow, her
father would increase her guards in order to prevent future escape attempts. “The guards will never let you leave the
palace grounds this late,” declared Mal “not as a servant anyway. It would look
too suspicious and you would be mistaken for a spy. Come with me.” And without waiting for her to reply, he
grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the stables. Arky was too dumbfounded to
protest. “Saddle two horses,” added her brother when
they reached their destination. “And wait for me here. I will be back in an
instant.” And he went back outside. So, was this the part where her brother
would go alert the guards, thought Arky? She still didn’t understand Mal’s
reaction. She felt like a fool, but she stayed there anyway, in the cold
stable, waiting for her brother’s return. The horses were beginning to wake up at her
intrusion. Arky inched closer, attracted to their warmth. She quickly saddled
and bridled Bel, Mal’s war horse. A jet black creature which fended the winds
like a blade when galloping and which was her brother’s pride. She moved on to
prepare Hector, her chestnut colored equine companion, for her journey. And her
brother returned at that moment, carrying a bundle under his arms. “No, not Hector. Too pompous. You will need
a mount one of the servants would borrow for an errand. You will play the part
of my groom. Put this on”. As he was talking, Mal laid a bonnet on her head.
“And hide your hair under it. We will need to make you pass for a young man. As
long as you keep your eyes downcast and stay quiet, the soldiers will not be
interested in you. And use this.” He placed his bundle in her hands. It constituted of a stable’s boy outfit.
The breeches appeared too big, but they would do. Arky realized that this plan
sounded a lot better. But why would Mal help, him always so dutiful? Arky was
puzzled. “Why are you helping me escape, Mal?” Mal paused, seemingly startled for a few
moment, then smiled. His face was genuinely frank when he continued. “But
because I love you, little sister. I don’t fancy understanding your purpose,
but one thing I know for sure. I trust in your judgment and believe whatever
you choose will be for the best. Just promise me you will come back to us.” Arky couldn’t help but feel warmth on her
face. She couldn’t hold back her tears, nor did she want to. She thrust herself
toward Mal and captured him in an embrace. “Oh, brother! I am so glad you
understand! I doubted it. I would have told you otherwise. I know I’m acting
selfishly, but this is what I really want.” “I
understand, little sister. Nobody should have to forgo their dreams. I wish you
a safe journey.” He couldn’t hold back his tears either. “Come on now, hurry.
We have some guards to fool.” And he smiled devilishly. It didn’t take long for Arky to prepare
herself. She was in breeches and on top of an unremarkable brown horse in an
instant. Despite the moon’s light, she could easily pass for a child stable
boy. They rode toward the palace gates, keeping quiet. Mal didn’t want Arky to
betray herself by having someone accidently hearing her voice, while she was
trying to pass for a boy. So, the short ride was silent and felt eerily
unnatural. Spring was coming and the pear trees
boarding the aisles were starting to bloom. The ornamental flowers in the royal
gardens were still buds but so close to explode. Arky thought she would miss
not being there at the proper time to smell them. She had helped the Royal
Academy decide which plants and flowers to cultivate on the palace grounds. “Halt!” Arky was startled. She was lost in her
thoughts and did not realize they had arrived at the gates. A soldier was
motioning to them to stop and identify themselves. She felt a wave of anxiety
overcoming her. All of a sudden, she thought her plan was so stupid and that
she would be discovered. Why not just denounce herself and end this charade?
She glanced at Mal on her side. He looks so imperious on his black mount, so
sure of himself. Arky decided he would trust her brother and let him resolve
this situation. She cast her eyes down, hiding her face. The
soldier came closer. “Your Highness! I did not realize it was
you! I wouldn’t have been so rude to stop you.” “No
worry, gentleman. You were just following orders by requesting that I identify
myself. I have business elsewhere in the city tonight and I’ve brought my groom
so he can take care of my ride,” Mal said, motioning to Arky beside him. She tried to make herself seem small, but
she shouldn’t have bothered. The guard didn’t even glance toward her. He simply
replied. “Of course, my Lord. Let me open the
gates.” The gates pivoted on their hinges and Mal
and Arky rode forward, leaving the palace. It felt so simple, thought Arky. And
just like that, she was free. They kept going, putting some distance between
them and the royal palace. The city seemed to be sleeping at this time of the
night. They barely encountered any other soul. They took the main road and followed it
toward the city entrance. At the difference of the great cities of the empire,
the capital city of Vallanya was not surrounded by walls. It didn’t have to. It
never had to sustain a siege. Vallanya itself was seldom the subject to any
great inland invasion by foreign countries. They were a big island and their
naval power was usually enough to protect them against their enemies. They were
the strongest naval power in the world. “This is where we part ways,” said Mal “I
will just go meet some friends, spend some time and return to the palace. Don’t
worry about father. He will understand eventually. And mother will recover. She
will understand as well.” Arky inched her brown mount closer to
Hector and embraced Mal again. “I will miss you, brother.” “I will miss you too, little sister.” And
Mal watched as Arky made her way out of the city. She turned back a couple of
times to watch him. He stood there until she was just a speck on the road and
then rode away to his appointment of the night.
Tarys stank. Of fish, of rotten vegetables,
and right now, of bad liquor. Legba sat at his table, tranquilly sipping his
soup. It was still hot and he was careful not to burn his tongue. He didn’t
feel particularly impressed by the biggest seaport of the Vallanyan kingdom.
Apparently, Tarys played a major role in the past Vallanyan wars, and was key
in the resistance against the Amokhian Empire. And during time of peace, such
as those days, Tarys was the biggest mercantile port on the Tergrian coast.
Ships traveled from far away, even from the legendary Linese kingdoms to exchange
their silk and spices against Vallanyan gold and technology. But Legba thought
he could do better if he were in charge. He was calmly peeling his oranges, a rare
delicacy coming from the kingdom of Crede. Legba couldn’t resist indulging
himself. Those were his favorite fruits. He bit into the juicy pulp and felt
like ascending to heaven. He took his time, savoring this moment. LightCaster laid in front of him, entirely
concealed in bundles. The sword kept pulling on him, eager to be used, but Legba
was fairly used to it and resisted it easily. It had taken him one month to
cross the Vallanyan kingdom, from the temple where he had stolen LightCaster to
Tarys. By tomorrow, he would take a ship for Amokhia. By his estimation, he
would be there in a few days, or at the most, one week. And then, he could
begin putting his plans into motion. He was looking forward to that. But for
now, he was staying in a tavern by the name of The Merry Crew. Legba thought it
sounded lame. But fortunately, by tomorrow, he would be out of there. The table closer to the foyer seemed very
animated. A sailor there was monopolizing the attention. Legba opened the First
Gate, becoming better aware of his environment, the process also sharpening his
senses, and tried to spy on their conversation. “…doomed…They think…Crops dying. …Amokhia.
Plague…land…” Despite using the First Gate, Legba was too
far away to discern what they were saying among the other noises they were
generating. At the same time, he felt the First Gates’s weakness overcoming
him. He didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay at his place forever and be in
harmony with the universe. Why move? Why would it matter? Everything is
connected. That he be here or there was irrelevant. That he were alive or not
was irrelevant. Everything was the same and nothing at the same time. Legba
shook his head and forced himself to let go of the Gate. Rumors had it that
some warriors who had opened the First Gate had stood immobile in the midst of
battle and let themselves be slain. Others said some users of the First Gate
had just fallen into a coma-like state and never woke up. The bottom line was
that the First Gate should always be operated with caution. Legba stood up and went to the sailor’s
table. “I couldn’t help but hear some of your conversation. I believe I heard
something about Amokhia. Do you have news from there?” asked Legba. The sailor and his companions eyed him
suspiciously. His table had been too far to be humanely possible for him to
eavesdrop on them. Those people certainly didn’t think Legba a Gate user, able
to listen to them from far away. Even if they knew, they probably didn’t
understand how the Gates worked. Few people did, most of them scholars. And
even fewer people were Gate users. And again, fewer than that have ever gone
past the First Gate. “Might be I do,” replied the sailor. “Might
be not.” He was eyeing the bundle Legba kept in his
hand. Legba had to admit that walking around everywhere with LightCaster
bundled up wouldn’t inspire trust in people. He smiled, searched his pouch and
placed an Amokhian dukat on the table. The sailor’s eyes slightly bulged with
greed and his companions became more suspicious. He snatched the coin and bit
into it, verifying its authenticity. “So,” continued Legba “you were saying?” “Trouble looms over the Amokhian Empire, my
Lord.” Legba waited, expecting more. But the
sailor just kept looking at him, his mouth obstinately staying shut. Legba
sighed and placed another dukat on the table, which was snatched as quickly as
the first one. “Rumors say potato crops are failing all
over the empire.” Continued the sailor “And the plague is spreading. Entire
villages and small cities in the south have been quarantined. The peasants keep
praying to the Emperor, waiting for him to eradicate the plague and restore
prosperity to the land.” And he stopped talking again, eyeing Legba. This latter one looked at the sailor back
with an annoyed look. “You know? I have the feeling I’m going to switch to my
blade soon as a payment method instead of my dukats.” The sailor looked at his companions. They
seemed offended for him. They were five and Legba was only one man, if a noble.
Yet, he had a fine blade at his waist and a suspicious looking bundle under his
arms. Maybe it was more prudent to just give this young lord the information he
requested. Trouble would be bad. Moreover, his pouch was already heavier by two
dukats. That was already better than he hoped to gain tonight by gambling. So,
he continued. “The capital of the Amokhian Empire is
infested by rebels…” “I would hardly call that news,”
interrupted Legba. “But it gets better. They are stronger now
that the empire risks famine. They are bolder and conduct more attacks against
the nobility.” The sailor lowered his voice and added in a whisper “They are
planning to overthrow the empire.” Legba’s smile deepened. That, he thought,
was more like it.
It was a sunny day. The azure sky was
totally cleared and a light salty breeze was blowing against the city. The air
was dry from the sea salt, but Arky didn’t mind. Tarys was beautiful, she
thought. It was her first time in the seaport and she was charmed. The buildings were almost as tall as in
Kell, the capital, and there was a lax air to the city. It seems busier than in
Kell. Tarys really felt like a mercantile city, with shops everywhere. But the
best part was the diversity. In her first day in Tarys, she had seen Amokhian
merchants, Credese and even Qinan shipmasters and sailors. It was a good
opportunity for her to learn more about their culture and even talked with them
about what bits of history she could remember about their respective countries.
She had quickly recognized that Credese were fairly advanced in mathematics by
having a look into their navigation tools. The compass and sextants they were
using were incredibly precise. And their maps were very reliable, indicating a
good mastery of geometry. It had taken her weeks to reach Tarys. She
had sold her horse on the way and purchased clothes more appropriate for
travel. She still wore breeches, finding them easier to move in. She was also
wearing an indigo cloak, which she had found very handy on the road, protecting
her against the wind and keeping her warm at night. She had to admit that at first she had been
very scared all alone for the first time in her life and making her own
decisions, depending only on herself. But she was becoming accustomed to it now
and she felt grateful for the experience. She was beginning to feel different,
like she was becoming more mature. Strange though, she used to think she was
already as mature as a person could be. She had reserved a place on The Landing, a
ship leaving for Amokhia in a few hours. After some consideration, Arky had
thought she could learn something of the troubled history between Amokhia and
her own country by traveling to the empire. Thus, she had decided her
destination. However, she needed to be cautious and not reveal her identity.
Amokhia was Vallanya’s long time enemy and it wouldn’t do for a Vallanyan
princess to journey there without a solid escort. She was casually strolling around Kell,
killing the time, listening to gossips and to everyday’s people narrating facts
about their everyday’s life. Some yelling further ahead caught her
attention. She pressed on forward. She reached the crossroad in front of her
and the yelling intensified. In the crossing street, she could see a small
group of people. The noise apparently was coming from them. She squeezed
herself to the building’s walls and carefully made her way toward them. She
didn’t want to attract their attention to her. She was just curious about what
was happening. This close to them, she could see that they
formed a circle around a man with a long bundle in his hand. There was about
nine of them surrounding that man and shouting at him. By the looks of it, they
were motioning to him to surrender his bundle and his other possessions. She
saw knives glittering in the day’s light. Cutthroats. That poor man was
certainly going to die. She
continued watching and met eye contact with the man in the middle. She
shuddered. His gaze was unnatural. He saw her but it was like he was looking
right through her, not even acknowledging her existence. He had such an
uncaring look on his face. Arky had seldom perceived someone with such
arrogance as this man was displaying. He gave absolutely no sense of fear even
though he was largely outnumbered. As a matter of fact, he just casually
reached for the sword at his waist. And everything came into motion. Arky sped forward and drawing a short blade
she had kept hidden in her cloak. She didn’t know how she did it, but she
traveled the distance in an instant and stabbed the cutthroat closer to her in
the ribs. The blade met resistance from a bone, but glided on the side and
continued deeper. The cutthroat grunted and spun to face her, holding his side.
Arky stabbed her repeatedly in the chest and he fell forward. One down. Arky turned to face another bandit. This
one would be tougher to deal with. She had lost the advantage of surprise. He
stroke at her with his knife in a curving motion. His moves felt so slow. Arky
dodged and cut his flesh on the attacking arm. He yelled and switched the blade
to his other hand. He attacked again with a curving motion. And again, he was
too slow. Arky blocked his arm and punched him in the face. She was surprised
at feeling bones cracking under her fist. She didn’t know she was capable of
such feat of strength. Her opponent fell backward with his face smashed. He
died on impact. Arky felt sick, but just for a moment. She quickly returned her
attention to the battle. From the corner of her eyes, she noticed
three bodies on the ground, beside those two she had already taken care of. And
the man who was being threatened a moment earlier was fighting two more
attackers. She was surprised. He was fending very well for himself. His actions
were so quick she couldn’t keep up with them. He was just a blur of blades. Was
it even possible for a human being to move that fast? And how could he have
killed those three people in such short amount of time? From the corner of her eye, she saw one the
bandits ripping apart the bundle the man with the uncaring eyes was carrying.
He must have let it fall earlier so he could better defend himself. The bandit
was extracting a black object. A sword, Arky realized. Obsidian blade. That man
was carrying two swords. But why? Well, there could be any number of
explanations. But that black sword just felt wrong. Arky suddenly realized she
wanted to have it. Odd. The bandit held the obsidian sword and
something felt changed about him. He seemed to suddenly have a crazy look on
his face. He turned around and stabbed his companion next him. No blood came
out. The skin around the wound darkened, becoming as black as coal. His whole
body started to darken the same way, seemingly burned. And he fell. He was
dead. So strange. The cutthroat ran toward the group where
the owner of the sword was still fighting. He was moving exceedingly fast,
seemingly as fast as that man was moving earlier. The nonchalant man moved
aside and the cutthroat cut down his two remaining companions. They died in the
same manner as the previous one, skin becoming as dark as coal. Arky was
puzzled. The bandit spun around, still trying to
strike at the man they were trying to steal from a moment ago. His eyes were
unfocused and he was smiling broadly. But his opponent kept evading, dodging a
fatal stab at the last moment. Seemingly annoyed, the cutthroat turned toward
Arky and attacked. She panicked. She saw the attack coming. But it was so fast,
too fast. She couldn’t dodge on time. She couldn’t parry it and even if she
were to, she had the feeling she would be struck down either way. Was she going
to die like that? At such a young age and just an unknown person in the
streets? She braced herself for the end. And the stab came. She was not the one who received it. Just
in front of her, she could see the jet black blade jutting out of the back of
the uncaring man of earlier. A fine trickle of blood was streaking out of the
wound. His skin was not darkening as it did for the bandits who were cut down.
He had moved just in time to receive the blade in his chest instead of her.
Clutching his stomach with one hand, he reached for the attacker’s throat with
the other, and squeezed. He must have been using a formidable amount of
strength, for he strangled the cutthroat with only one hand and let him fall on
the ground. With both hands, he slowly pulled the obsidian blade out of his
body, the process appearing to be horribly painful. He wiped his blood from the
blade and covered it back in bundles. Arky
tried to give a closer look at his wound, but could not discern it. From where
the sword was protruding just moments ago, there was only smooth skin. It
didn’t make any sense. Arky was sure she wasn’t hallucinating when she saw him
being stabbed. Besides, there was his blood as proof. And what was the deal
with the blood? The bandits, when stabbed, didn’t bleed at all. “What?...What happened just then?” she
asked. “Don’t worry about it,” he replied
dismissively. “Everything is fine now.” “But, you were stabbed! I clearly saw it!
And now, there is no wound. And what is it with that sword of yours? It just
felt wrong, so wrong.” He looked at her and finally seemed to
acknowledge her existence. “You were just hallucinating. Don’t worry about it.” “No, I certainly was not, and you are
making fun of me,” replied Arky. She was angry at that gentleman’s
condescending tone. He smiled. Apparently, he found Arky’s
reaction very amusing. She looked at him fiercely while adopting the most indignant
air she could summon. His smile only deepened. “Fair point,” he replied, mockingly. “I was
making fun of you. You caught me red handed and I apologize, my Lady.” He did
not appear sorry at all. “My name is Arky, not my Lady. And you
haven’t given me yours yet.” “Ah, names. I have so many of those. But
you may call me Legba. It suits my current needs.” “What is that supposed to mean?” “But, exactly what I said, my Lady. Don’t
look too much into me. I am but a humble traveler.” “You
are doing it again. Call me Arky.” “Ah, sorry. Arky.” And he winked at her. Arky had quickly decided that he had an
insufferably arrogant character. But she still owed him her life. “Thank you,” she said, “You saved my life
just now, Legba.” “Oh, don’t worry. It was just a minor
thing.” “You call saving someone’s life a minor
thing? What kind of person are you?” “I have seen so many people die that lives
do not matter for me anymore. I have been on too many battlefields.” And Legba
sighed. Arky was dubious. Legba didn’t seem that
old to be speaking that way. He appeared younger than she initially thought. He
seemed older than her by only a few years. There is no way he could have
participated in as many wars he was hinting. “Besides,” Legba added, “you were rushing
to help me yourself. Which is very commendable. You were putting yourself in
extreme danger to save a perfect stranger. This is certainly not seen every
day.” Arky blushed under the praise. Maybe he
wasn’t that bad after all. “It was only reflex,” she replied, “I didn’t stop to
think. And in the end, it seems like you could take care of yourself fine
without me. You even had to save my life. Which reminds me that you were
stabbed and that somehow, your wound just disappeared. And that dark sword,
what is it?” Legba sighed. She was persistent. “Its name
is LightCaster, and I don’t want to talk about it. It reminds me of unpleasant
things, very unpleasant things.” Arky remembered the crazy look in the
cutthroat eyes as he was wielding LightCaster and cutting down his companions.
She could understand how it could plague Legba with unpleasant memories. It
seems to take control of the wielder’s mind. Where could it come from? What
kind of technology was needed to create such a formidable weapon? Arky
remembered how the cutthroat movements suddenly became very fast. Was it even
technology? Could it be something else? Something deeper? Something more
nefarious? Arky shuddered. Had Legba been controlled by LightCaster as well and
done something he regretted? But he seemed to be able to keep his mind even
when touching the blade. There was something strange about him. Who was he
really? “If it brings you unpleasant memories, why
do you carry it around?” asked Arky. “Ah, but because I absolutely need it in
order to accomplish my plans.” And for a brief moment, Legba’s eyes appeared
fiery with anger. It didn’t last long however. “What are those plans you talk about?” “Unfortunately, I cannot talk about those
either,” Legba replied, smiling. Arky was expecting as much. He seemed a man
with secrets. She was fine with that. “I understand,” she said. “It’s your right
to stay silent. I will respect your privacy regarding LightCaster.” They fell silent for a moment. Legba smiled
again. “So, how many can you open?” he asked. “It’s so rare to find another
one.” Arky gave him a confused look. Opening
what? What did he mean by another one? Did he just suddenly start babbling
nonsense? “I don’t know what you mean. Another who?” “I’m talking about the Gates, of course.” “The Gates…?” “You are a Gate user, aren’t you?” He was
beginning to look at her suspiciously. Arky was befuddled now. Gate user? Could it
be? This person thought she could open the Gates. So ludicrous! But that would
explain things. It would certainly make her understand why her senses were
sometimes more acute than normally possible and why she could easily find her
way in the dark. And more recently, it would explain how she was able to break
the cutthroat jaw earlier with a single punch and put him down. That would
explain why the cutthroats were so slow. They were not being slow, of course.
She was just moving too fast than humanly possible back then. And this
gentleman was certainly a Gate user as well, being able to fend for himself so
well against so many opponents, taking a wound, yet having not a scratch as
proof. Nobody knew how the Gates worked, besides
the Gate users themselves. It was a strange and very old power created by
Ammonra before the Saving. Some say Ammonra came up with the Gates in order to
vanquish the shadows. “Don’t tell me you didn’t even know what
you were doing! Don’t you realize how dangerous that can be?” Legba’s words
pulled Arky abruptly from her thoughts. His tone was insistent. He sounded
worried. Odd. Arky didn’t think he was capable of such feeling toward others. “So you believe I am a Gate user. But I’m
not convinced. Besides, how is it dangerous?” Legba gave her the same look he would to an
annoying kid. “The Gates tap directly from your life force in order to operate.
If you open a Gate for too much an amount of time and do not have enough life
force, it will kill you. It will drain away your entire life. Therefore, you
need to be very cautious and know your limit. It becomes even trickier the
higher the level of the Gate you open increases. A higher level Gate consumes
more life force than a lesser one.” Arky slowly nodded. “The First Gate is particularly dangerous,”
continued Legba. “It enhances your senses and makes you become more aware of
your surroundings. But in order to do so, it connects you with the rest of the
universe, making you become in harmony the world. But that’s addicting. Once
you reach that intimate connection with the world, it feels so wondrous that
you don’t want to let go, that you don’t want to do anything else than just
standing there and be at peace. If you cannot overcome the First Gate and that
happens, it will suck your life force out of you without you even caring. Many
beginner Gate users died that way.” Arky gasped. “I know this feeling you just
described,” she said. “I have often experienced it as a child. And at the same
time, my senses were always keener.” “Which means you can open the First Gate.
And to have been able to do so since you were a child is a tremendous feat.
Despite its obvious drawbacks, the first gate can be very useful in battles.
Using it, it is like you can feel where and when an attack is coming and how to
parry it. And from your battle earlier, I conclude that you can open the Second
Gate as well. This one provides strength and endurance. Another Gate which is
very useful in battles as well. So, how many more can you open?” “I don’t know.” replied Arky, “All of this
is so new to me.” She wasn’t quite sure she accepted being a Gate user yet.
Though what Legba was describing felt so familiar. “And now, my head is full of
so many questions. For example, if what you are saying is true and the amount
of life force needed to open a Gate increases with the level of the Gate in
question, does that mean that every Gate user can open the same amount of
Gates? Their life force would permit them to reach the same level, wouldn’t
it?” Legba put on a knowing smile. “That would
be true if life force was something fixed. On the contrary, it is very
flexible. Your life force keeps changing during your lifetime. Think of it as
the sum of all energy inside of you. Some people are born with higher amount of
life force compared to others. But the most important aspect of it is that you
can make it increase. The Gates accomplish just that. While they consume life
force to open, each time you use one it also increases your capacity to hold
life energy overall. In other words, the more you practice opening the Gates,
the more life force you will be able to hold in the end.” “You mean it is similar to building a
muscle?” “Exactly! That is a very good analogy,”
Legba fell silent for a moment. “Consider yourself lucky,” he added. “I have
now decided to take you as a student. I will train you into using the Gates
properly so as to prevent you from killing yourself tinkering around with them.
Understand that not everyone has received such an honor. I very seldom teach.” Arky rewarded him with a killing glare. His
arrogance seemed to know no limit. “I don’t remember asking you.” “Oh, but you have no choice,” he continued
condescendingly. “Or would you rather brave the Gates blindly by yourself? That
wouldn’t be very wise, would it? Besides, think of the progress you could make
under the tutelage of someone who is already experienced. You could become one
of the greatest Gate users of this era and amass wealth and glory! I assure
you, people with our abilities are high in demand. Our services are very well
rewarded.” Arky didn’t need all of this to be
convinced. She was already very curious and knew she would be tinkering with
the Gates, trying to extract every bit of information possible out of their
use. And since that carried a great risk, Legba was right in saying that using
them by herself would be unwise. So, she saw no choice than to accept his
offer, despite his arrogance. Experienced Gate users were not that easy to meet
with. “I see that by the look on your face, you
are seriously considering my offer and about to accept,” continued Legba with a
grin. “Good, that’s for the better. I knew you would see reason.” “Very well,” said Arky, fiercely meeting
his eyes. “I will take you up on your offer.” If you like what you’ve read so far, here are four ways you can help: 1) Purchase the ebook when I release it on Amazon kindle. It won’t be expensive, I promise. The release date will be sometime in November 2) Spread the word. Talk about it to your friends and invite them to subscribe to the blog ( ) and facebook page ( ) I created for the book 3) Subscribe to the blog and facebook page 4) Download the excerpt and post it everywhere you can © 2012 Ricardy RicotAuthor's Note
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Ricardy RicotAboutHi, I am Ricardy Ricot and this year, I've decided to seriously become a writer. I recently finished a high fantasy novel titled Gate Lords: The Rise of Legba that I plan to release to the public in a.. more..Writing
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