Into the Black

The Void had grown much in the time that they had spent chasing after Yrit. The earthquake that had heralded it’s explosion in size had stopped hours ago, but the growth of the Void had not. It had continued to expand, edging slowly toward the gates of Matrikai. It was less than a mile away now, and the townspeople appeared to be frightened as the group flew over them.

“Is there anything we can do for them?” Kiinrin asked his father as they both stared at the people. “Any solace we can provide?”

“The only solace we can give them is by completing our task.” Gestarin said sadly. “There’s nothing we can directly do for them.”

“True.” Vixin called from where Vilkanai held him. “But what is our task? Yrit was right on that count.”

Gestarin shrugged. “I trust Efstany to tell us that in his own time.” Gestarin looked toward the flying plume of smoke. “He seems to be the only one who’s actually informed.” Gestarin looked quizzically at Vixin. “And now, Nyxiv.”

“About that.” Vixin said, slightly annoyed. “What in the world happened back there? Why am I suddenly part of this ‘Aia’s chosen’ group? I never asked for that.”

“Few who are chosen requested it, Viceroy.” Vilkanai said reprovingly. “You play with the cards you're dealt, not whine about why you don’t seem to hold all the crowns.”

“But still.” Vixin protested. “Who exactly is Nyxiv? What is he doing in my reflection?

“You know the same amount we do, Vixin.” Gestarin replied with another shrug. “All of us are in the dark with this. We’re being dragged along by our ears.”

Vixin was about to offer a retort, but at that moment the pillar of smoke suddenly dove down towards the ground. All of the Jods had to make a gut wrenching dive that threw Gestarin and Vixin’s hearts into their throats, silencing conversation for the moment. The wind tore at Gestarin’s skin, and he could scarcely keep his cheeks from flapping against his gums. That, above all else, would be undignified.

The instant before it hit the ground, Efstany materialized from the smoke and landed softly on the ground, dropping to his knees to absorb the impact. The Jods, however, did not land so gracefully- Gestarin felt the impact jar his bones, and he prayed that he hadn’t broken anything.

“Alright, Efstany.” Vixin growled as he stood up, brushing himself off. “What is this all about?”

“It’s simple, really.” Efstany said with a nod. He pointed at the Void. “We go in there.”

There was silence for a moment. Then Vixin began laughing.

“In there?” He chuckled. “I knew you were crazy, Efstany, but I didn’t think you were stupid.” It was a moment before Vixin realized that no one was laughing with him. He looked at Efstany skeptically. “You’re serious?”

“Of course I am.” Efstany said with a shrug. “Like it or not, this is our course. Neither you or I can change that. There are things you all must do within its confines”

“But…” Vixin stuttered. “We all knew going in there was suicide before hearing about Gestarin’s encounter! Why in Aia’s name would we want to go in there now?”

“Because that is our course.” Efstany said simply. Vixin threw up his hands.

“No.” He said. “I won’t do it. This is insanity.” He pointed a stern finger at the Void. “No one in their right mind would go near that thing, let alone enter it!”

“Calm yourself, Viceroy.” A familiar voice said from behind Efstany. They all looked to see Radiran stepping out of the Void. “My brother is right.”

“Oh, and we’re just supposed to trust you?” Vixin said incredulously. “The Flen who killed Valanal, who opposed us at every turn? And now you expect us to just go with what you say?” Vixin shook his head. “Am I the only one thinking straight?”

Radiran ignored Vixin, choosing instead to stare at Gestarin. “Your majesty… I…”

Gestarin held up his hand. “Speak not of it, Radiran. It was not your choice that killed him.”

“And yet…” Radiran sighed. “I still feel guilt for it. It was my fault the choice had to be made in the first place.”

“You were only doing what you thought was right.” Gestarin said, walking over and putting a hand on the Flen’s shoulder. “I myself have done no less than that, and men have died under my watch as well.” Radiran hesitated, but he nodded briefly.

“Yes, wonderful.” Vixin said, voice oozing with sarcasm. “But this still doesn’t change the fact that Efstany wants us to go into the bloody Void!”

Radiran looked at Vixin and rolled his eyes. “Is this one always so stubborn?”

“I find it so.” Gestarin said regrettably. “He is still quite effective at what he does.” Radiran looked skeptical, but he sighed and nodded.

“Viceroy, enough of this.” He said in a booming voice. “You will follow what Efstany says, and you will go into the Void. Not to be dramatic…” He held out his hands in a grand gesture. “But the fate of the world is at stake.”

Vixin scowled. “I won’t go until I know it’s safe.”

“Enough of this.” Jiriinii said angrily, and she marched up to the edge of the Void. “I will go.” Efstany nodded gratefully.

“You will be tested, Jiriinii.” He said. “There will be a task for you to do in the Void. It will present it to to you in a way your will recognize. Take care not to miss it.”

JIriinii nodded. “Pray for me.” She looked back at her father. “I will not fail.” A tear glistened on her cheek. “For Ventoros.”

Gestarin nodded. “Go.” Jiriinii looked back toward the Void and shivered a single time. Then, without a word, she walked into the black depths. The Void almost reached out to grasp her and pull her in, like the embrace of a loved one, and it undulated back and forth as Jiriinii was taken in. After a moment, the only thing left of her was a white imprint of her body on the face of the Void.

Efstany looked back at Vixin with a raised eyebrow. “Satisfied?”

Vixin looked back with wide eyes. “Do we all have to do that?” Efstany nodded, and Vixin shook his head. “This is idiocy.” He walked up to the Void. “Then again, I have a penchant for stupid acts of bravery.” He flashed a cocky smile back at the others. “The Quasexan ladies love it.” He looked back at the Void and struck a hopelessly dramatic pose, like the hero of a Junarian tragedy. “For Oaiao!” He yelled, and leaped into the Void. In an instant, the only thing left of Viceroy Vixin was a crimson imprint on the Void next to the white imprint of Jiriinii.

Efstany nodded with a small smile. “And now they are two.” He looked back at Kiinrin and Gestarin. “Are you ready?” The pair of Galarins looked at each other.

“Do you want me to go first, Kiinrin?” Gestarin said, a sad smile on his face. “Let your father do one last thing for you?” Kiinrin hesitated, but then nodded earnestly.

“Go quickly.” He blurted. “Before I can change my mind.”

Gestarin laughed. “Of course.” He embraced his son tightly. “Anything for you.” They pulled apart and looked at the Void. “You know, I never thought I would ever come back here.”

“I never thought I would fall in love with a literal angel.” Kiinrin said sarcastically. “Sometimes these crazy things just happen.” They both laughed.

“Well,” Gestarin sighed. “No time like the present.” He looked at Efstany. “See you on the other side.”

Efstany nodded, a playful smile on his face. “That may come sooner than you think, my lord.”

Gestarin nodded and, before he could question the rationality of his decision, jumped into the Void. It was like falling through thick swamp water, and he couldn’t seem to get enough air. The blackness became suffocating, and he lost consciousness while he wondered whether Kiinrin had followed him or not.

* * *

“Sir,” A stern voice said in Gestarin’s ears. “I apologize for waking you, but it’s time.”

Gestarin’s mind swam out of the darkness, following the voice like a rope in the darkness. Was this the Void? Who else was in here?

The voice continued to speak fervently. “The beasts have retreated, sir. We can follow Jandox into the woods, hopefully cut him off.” A firm hand shook Gestarin’s shoulder. “Sir? Are you alright?”

Gestarin sat up suddenly, sucking in a large breath. Where was he? The surroundings were unfamiliar. Cloth walls and a large pole indicated that he was in a tent, but how was that possible? Logic defied it. Random tents didn’t just show up in the Void.

A calm, old soldier stood before Gestarin, garbed in blood red armor. A Var- a captain by the look of him. He was no Bloodwielder, but he was most likely a formidable warrior. The Var were trained to be so. This one, however, seemed to have a gentle side to him. He looked at Gestarin with a kind of familiar compassion.

“Sir?” He asked. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” Gestarin breathed, unsure of what was going on but not wanting to confuse this man any more than he already was. “Everything’s fine, soldier. Just a very strange dream.”

“Thank Aia for that.” The soldier sighed, rubbing his temples. “A few of us were worried that you wouldn’t wake up.”

“I’ll be alright.” Gestarin said, throwing his legs over the side of the cot. “What’s going on?”

“We finally managed to beat back the tuskhorns about an hour ago.” The soldier said with a grin. “The way is clear for us to pursue Jandox.”

“Right, right. Jandox.” Gestarin repeated. “And Jandox is…”

The soldier raised his eyebrow. “Jandox Hilirinsson? The scourge of the Ljirin Sea?” He shook his head. “Sir, are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Yes, yes.” Gestarin said, hoping to deter the soldier’s decision with nonchalance. “Just a little off-balance from my sleep.” He stood up straight and looked the soldier in the eye.  “What is your plan, captain?”

The soldier grinned. “Corner him in the forest and cut him down before he can kill anyone else.” The soldier nodded toward a pile of red armor next to Gestarin’s bed. “But it is not my place to lead them, your majesty. That is your place.” He bowed deeply. “The men and I eagerly await your call to battle.” He spun on his heel and lifted the tent flap to exit, his sword knocking the tent pole on his way out.

Gestarin stood, panting, next to his cot. Aia’s blood, what was this? A world inside the Void? That wasn’t possible. There was no possible way for it to happen. He of all people should know what the Void was like.

Unless… Efstany had said that the Void would give them a test, a trial, something presented in a way they knew. Could this be the test? It was certainly the kind of situation he had experienced before. But… what was the test?

His thoughts were interrupted by a young boy walking quietly into the tent. He was younger than Kiinrin, and far less strapping. He wore squire’s leather and looked at Gestarin with both fear and respect.

“Ready to put your armor on, sir?’ He said. His deep voice did not match his youthful frame. “I daresay you’ve slept long enough.”

Gestarin laughed, a rejuvenating sound that lifted his spirits. “If only all my servants could be like you, lad.”

“Yes sir, you say that a lot.” The boy grinned and grabbed the pile of red plate off of a dresser. “Maybe you mean it, maybe you don’t.” He shrugged and began undoing the straps on Gestarin’s breastplate. “Regardless, young Hefir Ladrinsson won’t be changing anytime soon.”

Gestarin laughed again and lifted his arms. “Don’t, lad. Don’t ever.” Hefir gently placed the breastplate over Gestarin’s chest and did up the straps. The lad worked methodically and efficiently, grabbing a new piece of armor whenever he had finished. Gestarin marveled at his skill- like had said, he could only wish that his other servants were like this remarkable boy. After only a few minutes, a fraction of the time it normally took to equip the king.

“Tell me, lad, and tell me true.” Gestarin said, cupping his helmet under his arm. “Do you think we’ll have a chance”

The boy nodded fervently. “Oh yes, sir.” He pointed out the tent flap. “The whole Galasian army has assembled.”

Gestarin almost jumped slightly as the lad spoke. Had he misheard, or had the boy used the ancient name for Glausiania? If he had… the Void was creating an image of the past. The ancient times, when experiments with Blood led men to create strange powers.

A spark of insight flashed into Gestarin’s brain. Jandox Hilirinsson- wasn’t that Eliran Eldron’s chief adviser? The creator of the Bloodoaths? If so, Gestarin wasn’t just on the trail of a killer- he was hunting the most sickening criminal Oaiao had ever seen. Jandox had killed millions in his experiments.

And Gestarin seemed to be the man to stop him.

“Anything else you need, sir?” Hefir said, standing back and clasping his hands behind his back. He nodded at the bone spike on Gestarin’s wrist. “You sure those things work? I mean, Eliran and his crew weren’t exactly sane…”

“I’ll be fine, Hefir.” Gestarin nodded. “Thank you.” The boy nodded and exited the tent, leaving Gestarin to deal with his thoughts.

Aia’s blood, how was he going to do this?

His eyes fell on a mirror that leaned up against a dresser. He half-expected Nirastig’s voice to come cackling out of it, but to no avail. he was on his own for this one.

Well. He thought. No time like the present. He walked out of his tent was nearly deafened by the roar that followed.

“Hail to the King!”

“All hail King-”

“Death to the heretics!”

Gestarin had to resist the urge to clap his hands over his ears. Aia above, he had never had this sort of reception from the people back in Matrikai. He never even thought a crowd of people could cheer that loud. He had to try something- these people would deafen him if they didn’t stop. He went for the old fashioned approach and raised his hands.

Funny enough, it actually worked. The crowd silenced almost immediately, leaving Gestarin breathing heavily on the grassy plain that overlooked the forest. He thought quickly, searching for some words he could give these people.

“Friends!” He pronounced. “Today, we are gathered. Not to avenge our people, our family, but to bring them justice!” His palms were sweating and shaking, but he paid it no mind. “Who here has had someone hurt because of this man? Who here knows of a friend who has fallen to this man?”

Every person raised their hand. Some were openly sobbing, a testament to the trials this man had imposed on these gentle people. Even after having known them for only a few moments, Gestarin already felt compassion for them and anger towards Jandox for his deeds. Perhaps that was how the Void planned it.

“We are all here for him.” Gestarin said, pointing at the forest. “And we will find him. No matter how hard he runs, how well he hides, we will find him and bring him to justice!” If Gestarin had been trying to preserve his hearing, he had made a fatal mistake. The roar that followed his pronouncement nearly destroyed his eardrums, and it was a moment before he could hear his own voice clearly enough to continue. “Let us off, before the beasts return! Let us rid the world of Jandox Hilirinsson!” Gestarin turned on his heel and faced the woods, drawing his Blade at the same time. “For Galasia!”

“For Galasia!” They all repeated, drawing their blades. “For the King!”

They ran off into the wood, and Gestarin’s only thought was to what he had gotten himself into.

They ran for several minutes, each man searching the treeline for any signs of the criminal. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple. The timber was thick and dark, and the brush was unyielding. It was hard to even see where they were going, let alone find any trace of a murderer. After several hours of fruitless searching, he sent the better part of his host back to camp. As the Junarians would say, “Too many a chef spoils the soup.”

“Sir!” The old captain called, jumping over a log to reach Gestarin. “Over here!” Gestarin turned, anxious for any sort of lead. “We found something!”

“What?” Gestarin said, following the captain through the underbrush. “What is it?”

The captain pointed. “Look.” The trees and bushes opened up into a large glade surrounded by hanging ivy. At the center lay a small brown tent, the smoldering remains of a firepit, and a brackish pond.

“We think it was his camp.” The captain continued, drawing his sword and running it through the coals. “He couldn’t have left very long ago.” He tossed a coal into the air and caught it for an instant before dropping it. “The coals are still hot.”

“Where could he have gone?” Gestarin asked, looking around. It wasn’t pretty, true, but it was still a functional camp. From the look of the emptiness of things, Jandox left in a hurry, taking as much as he could with him. Why would he have left?

“Spread out.” Gestarin said, hefting his Blade. “Everyone gather into a circle. We’ll start searching outward. Once you get to the point that you cannot see the man next to you anymore, double back. Then I’ll know how far he has gone.”

“An excellent plan, your majesty.” An unfamiliar voice said. “But how will you find me when you are already dead?” The sharp twang of a released bowstring echoed through the glade. Gestarin barely had time to register the sound before a large shape threw itself in front of him.

Gestarin turned, Blade at the ready. A haggard, bearded man stood on the other end of the Glade, secured by his arms by two of the other Var. His crossbow lay on the ground, its front pointed directly at Gestarin. A few feet in front of Gestarin lay the old captain with a crossbow bolt sticking out of his breast.

“Sorry, your majesty.” The captain croaked. “Couldn’t just let you die like that.” He closed his eyes and sighed out his last breath.

Gestarin knelt down next to the fallen soldier, anger kindling like a fire in his chest. He looked up at the bearded man with fire in his eyes. “You will pay for that, Hilirinsson.” He held up his Blade and began advancing toward Jandox, fully intending to tear him apart. The other man, however, seemed completely calm about the proceedings. Welcomed it, even.

“What could you possibly do to me, your majesty?’ Jandox sneered. “What could you possibly do to me that I haven’t contemplated doing to myself?” He held out his arms and closed his eyes. “I welcome any punishment you could throw upon me.”

“Jandox Hilirinsson,” Gestarin intoned, grabbing the man’s shoulder and pushing him to the ground. “You have murdered thousands of innocent people, and have assisted millions more to Aia’s arms. You will die for your crimes.” Gestarin’s gaze bore into the kneeling man. “Any last words?”

“Yes, actually.” Jandox smiled a wicked smile. “I hope I can see all of my experiments when I get to where I’m going. It’ll be such a good reunion!” He laughed wildly. “We’ll do so much together, it’ll be like living all over again.”

“Kill him, sire.” One of the men holding Jandox growled, jerking the criminal harshly. “He doesn’t deserve a quick death, but that’s the only thing we can give him.”

Gestarin nodded and gripped the hilts of his Blade tightly. Moving slowly and purposefully, he crossed them and placed them against Jandox’s throat. With nary an effort, he could take off the criminal’s head by crossing the Blades.

So why wasn’t he?

Something held Gestarin back as he stood in the glade, silence falling all around him. He couldn’t put his finger on it- it just was. There was something inherently wrong about this situation, and Gestarin wouldn’t continue until he found out. His thoughts swam as he stood motionless.

“Sire?” One of the soldiers questioned. “What are you waiting for? Execute him!”

“Steady, soldier.” Gestarin growled. “I will when it is time.”

As the soldiers grumbled, and Gestarin stood, a memory began to surface slowly in his mind. It was a scene, a picture of him as a boy. He stood next to his father’s throne, saying almost the exact thing that soldier had just said to him. What had his father said? What was it again?

The only thing separating us from them, Gestarin, is that we have the restraint to keep our vengeance in check. You cannot kill a man without a trial, cannot rob him of his life until you have exhausted justice. Remember that, and you will never fear for your authority.

Gestarin lowered his Blades.

“What are you doing?” The guard hissed. “Do it!”

“The only thing separating us from him is that we have the restraint to keep our vengeance in check.” Gestarin said from memory.  “You cannot kill a man without a trial, cannot rob him of his life until you have exhausted justice.”

“Justice.” Jandox laughed. “What is your justice but the ramblings of tired old men? You should kill me before I die of laughter.”

Gestarin nodded at his guards. “Take him to the prison cart.”

“What?” Jandox said, snapping out of his laughter. “You can’t.” The guards dragged him away, and Jandox began to fight against their hands. “You were supposed to kill me!” He screamed, a guttural cry that sounded more like a beast than a man. “Aia damn you, kill me!” The guards dragged him away, but his screams lasted much longer than that.

Gestarin sheathed his Blade, trembling. The rest of his soldiers looked at him strangely before leaving the Glade. After a moment, Gestarin was the only one left.

Or so he thought.

“You made the correct choice.” The voice of the old captain said behind Gestarin, making him jump. He turned to find the captain standing behind him, looking off in the direction Jandox had been taken. “I couldn’t have done better.” There was something about his voice that wasn’t right. Gestarin had heard that voice before. The calming, serene quality of it reminded him greatly of… Aia.

The old captain turned, showing Gestarin the other side of his face. “A leader must always remember that justice is far more deserving than vengeance.” Half of his face suddenly bleached white, while the other half darkened to a glossy black. “Your part has been fulfilled, your majesty.” The two halves began to mix slightly at their dividing line, dulling to a grey. “Rest. You will wake soon.”

The world exploded in a storm of white light.