Arc 2: Muraaul Awakens

  There is nothing my blade cannot reach

  The hallowed peaks of Anheran, where fingertips glance clouds

  The depths of the first water, shallower than the hearts of man

  Distant plains where the green grove flows

  Homeland sweet and sorrow, protected and lost

  There is nothing my blade cannot reach

  Love and hatred, happiness and sadness, all shall cave

  Alone on the path, carved by the solitude of the soul

  Everything of the world falls, everything not of the world breaks

  Etherial bonds, forlorn times, whispered past of prosperity, worshipped Gods

  There is nothing my blade cannot reach

  The morning call of the rooster announced it was time to begin the day. Fortunately, he had been awake for some time. The window was covered, blocking the light from creeping in.

  The needs of the day were calling, but he could not move. Admiring the beauty next to him, still sound asleep despite the ruckus of the city. The man stroked her brown hair gently.

  She stirred. Grumbling, she muttered, “Cadell?”

  He smiled. “It’s time to awaken, my love.”

  Barking a laugh, the woman sat up. “Oh, you’re always so silly.”

  Cadell’s features changed to a frown, but his eyes still held his adoration for the woman. “You know I mean what I say, Mia.”

  Her bare breasts touch against his skin. “Don’t insult me. We’re both just two losers taking comfort in each other’s bodies.”

  He grunted and pulled away. Throwing on his undergarments, he opened the curtain to allow light to spill into the room, illuminating his displeased face.

  Mia giggled. “Oh, don’t sulk.”

  Cadell sighed. “You’re right, I should be used to your teasing by now.”

  “What are your plans for tonight?”

  “I won’t be able to see you. I have to go to the Keep. As it’s spring, things will be getting far busier now.”

  “I know what you mean, the Mistress is riding me constantly to get all my work done. Talk about a pain in the ass.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t slack off too much, I know you hate the constant cleaning and serving, but it’s honest work for a meal.”

  “If she kicks me to the curb, you’ll take care of me, won’t you, Cadell?”

  “If only you would let me.”

  A swift step to dodge her defenses as he pressed his lips to her cheek, then headed for the door. Strapping the few pieces of gold he owned to his body, he threw the black fur of his people over his shoulders. Finally, he strapped his favored weapon to his back.

  A war axe.

  Cadell did not turn around when he left, nor did he speak any words of farewell. It would make it too difficult to leave her.

  Down the stairs and out the door into the city proper.

  The fine spring sun blessed the city of Gryfinfel, the capital city of the Uxsons. Cadell’s home.

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  The streets were ablaze with life, tasks carried out as all manner of work was being completed. Repairs to the old city, the shipment of food and supplies, guards patrolling, and soldiers traveling to new posts. Beyond work, children played in the streets, and wives not bound to the axe completed household tasks.

  On the street corner, a priest preached of Muraaul, their Sun God. To the Drajin, he was a simple purple light in the sky. To the Eddgaarites, he was the devil. However, to the Uxsons, he was their guiding star.

  Cadell was far from devout, but the hope their God represented strengthened the brightness of the already fine day. He whispered a slight prayer, then continued on.

  Despite the glorious day, not everything was perfect. There was still strife; the orphans and urchins of the city lived a difficult life. The slaves were forced to endure inhuman treatment. Those who could not or chose not to carry an axe were belittled, their class lessened than that of warriors. Even those who fought but were weak were ridiculed.

  Like me.

  However, today he did not have time to ponder on the state of his life or people. Swiftly, he moved through the city. They had maintained the architecture of the Old People, far better than the Drajin. The Drajin had forgotten anything taught to them, even the cities they had built by their own hands had fallen away.

  Though Uxsons were little different, at least they could preserve a city after the initial destruction of an invasion. Preservation, here, in their most important city.

  Walking the path he had known since childhood, he made it to the walls of Gryfinfel. With a nod, Cadell was out of the gates.

  Black Perch Keep was a blemish on the world. An ugly castle of dark stone and steel whose only benefit was that it was impenetrable. A blocked and spiked fortress that diminished the beauty of the inlet where it resided.

  Not far from Gryfinfel, the only way to reach the Keep was a rough path cut from a particularly rigorous part of nature. An army could, in theory, sidestep the city, but the capital was in and of itself akin to a fortress. As Cadell walked the road, the sights and smells told him it was indeed spring.

  He took a deep breath and smiled.

  That feature of happiness disappeared on his face as he took the notorious turn. The inlet stretched out before him, a landscape that encapsulated Dradris’s inherent gorgeousness. In the middle of the water, on an island of its own, was the source of Cadell’s dissatisfaction.

  The Keep was massive, and as Gryfinfel was a fortress on its own, the Keep itself was like a city. The single road of inlaid stones stretched across the water to the dismay of Cadell. A road only accessible at low tide.

  Some other parts near the stone the fortress was perched on were visible, but it was near suicide to step upon such terrain. Once he crossed, he would be trapped until the next day. While Black Perch Keep held the perfect position and defence, even against naval attacks, being imprisoned in the black coffin was not a pleasant thought.

  Cadell rested on his haunches for a moment, building the courage he needed to plunge ahead. It was not something he could avoid; he had his orders. Despite the bleakness, the Keep was his home as much as Gryfinfel. Though he could conjure very few good memories.

  With a deep sigh, Cadell began walking. On any given day, there might be many going to and from the Keep, but early this bright morning, he was the only one.

  Each step on the stoned walkway grew harder until he was before the maw of the castle. The supreme symbol of Uxsons’ strength. When a Dark King was not reigning, various factions arose as they sought the title or power for themselves. As they fought for supremacy, many battles were waged in hopes of capturing the Keep. None had succeeded, and whoever held it was ultimately the winner in any disputes.

  That was how the current Dark King had been granted the title. Inheriting Black Perch Keep and crushing all remaining opposition, including the man’s own brother. Lord of the Isle, Dark King Sliva, the Uxson Liege.

  At the thought, Cadell shivered, but shook himself free. Even if one felt weak, it was important to hide that. Obscure emotions and become blank, unless bloodlust was at the forefront. Strength meant everything to a Uxson, that, and little else.

  The guards stared at him with blank expressions. The liveliness of the capital was not here, only the cold steel of the army.

  Every time he returned, it was painful.

  Welcome home, me.

  Narrow hallways, cramped enclosures. Tightness in Cadell’s chest as he pushed through. He would not give in, though. He was called here; it was his duty.

  A distinct footstep on the black stone. He shifted his body to the side to make space, his back arching slightly in deferral. Around the corner stepped the Divine Hammer Frieda, who had only recently arrived.

  “Oh, if it isn’t Cadell. Rare to see you in the Keep. Have you come for the war planning today?” Her tone was casual, but there was a distinct distance in her speech, as if she did not truly care. Though that may be, in his experience, she was the kindest of the Divine Hammers.

  “Yes, Commander Frieda. I assume your journey went well.”

  A slight blush to her cheeks as she beamed. “Mm. I’ve found someone I’m interested in. It was a very eventful trip, though you’ll hear my report later. It is sure to be a long day.”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  As she began walking away, she pointed over her shoulder. “Also, watch out.”

  Frieda disappeared, and he watched in the direction she pointed with a tightened stomach. It was a warning he should have heeded. A man slithered around the corner, his footsteps unheard. His age was indiscernible, his sharp and unfriendly features accentuating his cruelty. At his hips, a collection of hand axes. The man wore the specially gold-embroidered outfit of the Divine Hammers.

  Once again, Cadell stepped back and bowed deferentially. “Good day, Commander Rune.” He managed to squeak out.

  The man stood leaning over him. “Is it, Cadell?” A fist rammed into Cadell’s gut, toppling him. Not an unusual style of greeting for the Divine Hammer. “Then it is blessed that you have crossed my path, praise Muraaul.”

  “I suspect it is more than a coincidence, Commander Rune,” He responded through pained breaths, “As I happened to run into Commander Frieda, who you were shadowing.” A sudden kick made him release a groan.

  “Scum such as you should not comment on how I hunt my prey.”

  “Oh, everyone knows. You call her such, but your desire for her is far more palpable, isn’t it?”

  The Divine Hammer grabbed Cadell by his black hair and dragged him close to his face. “Remember, I take no pleasure in what I do. This is to the benefit of everyone. All people only have a predetermined amount of sadness in their lives. If I can drag out all the pain, be the one to inflict the horridness on them, then all that will remain is the good aspects of existence.”

  “I’m oh so appreciative,” Cadell said sarcastically.

  Another kick to the ribs. “As you should be.”

  Despite the bustle of the Keep, the wandering eyes that saw the physical brutalisation, none stopped for assistance. Not only because the man inflicting his strange world view onto Cadell was a Divine Hammer, but because that was the way of the Uxsons. One had to break from despair with one’s own power.

  But I’m powerless. At least I’m used to the abuse.

  He smirked despite being roughed up. This was not enough to force him to give up; he would continue forward toward his dream.