The Chronicles of Kale: Dawn of Retribution (Book 2) (38 page)

Chapter 38: Dawn of Retribution

“I
t’s imperative that we split up.” Thomas looked to his side. “I shall search for
her
—you must remain near Illadar and ensure his safety. I fear a game is in play—one intended to claim our lives if we do not win. Reem’s men and Lox can handle these foul beings. You must go now.”

With a soft-spoken incantation, Thomas vanished.

Kale looked to Neelan, in agreement.

“More come!” One of the sand-people called out in warning.

Larger, more vicious red beasts lunged over the hill. Their bodies clad in perfectly formed steel.

Neelan left Kale’s side to stand near the sand-people. She waited for the beasts to near, her breath still and arms stiff. Her eyes locked upon their weak point near the head as she released a series of arrows. As the beasts fell, their bodies skid across the snow.

The sand-people continued to slam their mallet-like hands down upon the creatures. A loud snapping could be heard as the beast’s bones crushed beneath the force.

Lox launched an endless rain of arrows upon the hounds. As one beast fell, others in its wake stumbled and rolled.

“Go to him, Kale,” Lox spoke—still holding his back to the group. “I know you may never forgive my actions, but I vow my life to Neelan on this day for what I have done. I will remain here and hold off these monstrous beings while you ensure your friend’s safety. My word means little, but I assure you, I will protect Neelan from harm.” He flexed his fingers and three more glowing arrows took flight.

“I will handle myself,” Neelan indignantly replied. “But I do agree Kale—you must go now. I have my protection right here.” She tightly gripped her bow.

Kale stood motionless for a moment, struggling inside with his decision.

“I don’t need you to remain here, Kale—Illadar needs you!” Neelan snapped as though reading his mind.

Kale firmly bit down on his lip before turning his back to his friends. With his muscles clenched in preparation for the pain which was to come, he summoned forth the black wings. They cupped a large pocket of air before throwing it at the ground as he took flight.

The cool air grazed his skin as he targeted Illadar. Tucking his wings back, he swiftly descended. He immediately noticed the group of warriors who stood off to the side of where the battle took place. Different from the steel-clad warriors they had encountered earlier, this group resembled the bandits he had come across in the desert. Though dressed for warmth, their leather attire was dingy and well-worn.

Kale clamped his hand upon the hilt of his sword, allowing it to illuminate with fiery orange hues. With a snap of his wings, he dove in with an aerial attack—his arm outstretched, and blade to the side.

Before the men saw Kale coming, their necks were severed at the base.

Headless bodies trembled and walked  into one another before falling to the bed of snow, lifeless.

He held his wings spread and drifted down until his feet met the ground. With a jolt of discomfort, the black masses returned inside of his body.

“Don’t!” Illadar ground out the word as he parried an attack.

Kale knew his friend’s warning was meant for him.

Illadar had long waited for the moment to confront the man who tore his entire world apart.

Though Illadar’s demand was clear, Kale couldn’t help but debate assisting with the battle. Illadar heaved his chest as sweat rolled down his breast plate. After everything they had been through, Kale knew Illadar’s strength was diminishing.

Kale squeezed his sword hilt tightly before releasing his grip. Illadar would forever live without peace in his heart if anyone took this fight from him—that much, Kale knew. This was not only a fight for his own bleeding heart—but the hearts that beat no more from Jedah’s cruelty.

It took everything in Kale’s will not to advance forward. He gritted his teeth and watched; prepared only to interfere if Illadar should be severely wounded.

There was something different about Jedah, and Kale took notice to his superior speed and strength. Illadar struggled to keep up in the fight, grunting loudly as he mustered his strength to deflect each blow.

Upon Jedah’s face was no sweat—no sign of struggle. It was as though he were merely toying with Illadar, watching him in amusement as he wore his opponent’s strength away.

Kale pondered the situation, staring forth in silence as Jedah parried each blow with ease. Though he had never seen Jedah in combat, he knew this was no ordinary human’s abilities.

Jedah ducked as Illadar’s blade swiped overhead. He seized the moment to riposte the attack.

Illadar managed to side-step, avoiding certain death as the sword sliced against his cheek, creating an open flesh-wound.

The blood puddled in the open slit and Illadar used the cuff of his tunic to wipe his face. Crimson hues streaked his face like war paint, giving him a deadly appearance.

Jedah leaped back and spun, rotating his blade in an upward angle.

Illadar met the attack and the clash of steel rang out.

Jedah grinned and slid his blade swiftly along Illadar’s before forcefully pushing off. With incredible speed, he leapt up, lunging down with a mighty growl. The blade fell against Illadar’s shoulder, cutting through an exposed section of tender tissue.

Illadar howled in pain before staggering back.

Kale readied his footing, prepared to intervene.

“No!” Illadar yelled.

Maniacal laughter rang out as Jedah stepped forward, backhanding Illadar across the face. “You fool! Do you truly think you can win this? After so much time has passed, you still have not learned your place.” With a snap of his leg, Jedah drove his boot into Illadar’s groin.

The air escaped Illadar’s lungs as he stumbled back, landing hard against the snow, yet never releasing his grip upon the claymore.

“Be grateful that your death will come quickly. Those you care for—those you love—they will not share such mercy. I will pluck their very eyes from their skulls so they cannot see—only feel what painful torment I have prepared for them. Their cries will follow you deep into the afterlife.” Sinister laughter escaped Jedah’s lips as he straddled a leg to each side of Illadar’s body. His thick hands gripped the hilt of his sword as he raised it to the sky. He twisted the blade so it faced Illadar’s head, prepared to slice down through his skull.

Instead of cowering in the fear Jedah had hoped for, Illadar narrowed his eyes with determination. Mustering all his remaining strength, Illadar lifted his claymore and thrust it upward.

The blade’s tip slid beneath Jedah’s breastplate, jabbing into his belly.

Illadar pushed the weapon deeper before kicking his foot firmly into Jedah’s knee cap.

The force from the simultaneous motions caused Jedah to fold forward. His dark eyes were wide with surprise, no longer revealing the same confidence he had only moments ago. Blood began to swell within his mouth, soon running out between his lips and onto Illadar’s forehead.

Jedah’s body swayed and his grasp upon his weapon loosened.

Illadar tucked his legs and rolled out as Jedah’s blade dropped down, gliding into the snow where he had just lay.

Jedah staggered four paces forward, now gripping the blade lodged through his intestines. He fell to a knee, coughing blood onto the white snow.

“It is only the beginning . . .” Jedah gasped for breath, “You truly have no idea, do you?” His laughter was stifled by the gurgling blood in his throat. He released his final breath before collapsing forward, allowing the claymore to fully impale his limp body.

Illadar and Kale froze in silence, each in disbelief that Jedah was truly gone. The air was still and void of sound.

“It’s over . . .” Illadar whispered. “We’ve done it, kid . . .”

Kale grinned and his heart raced. “
You’ve
done it. He will lay harm to others no more.”

Illadar staggered to his feet, gripping his throbbing wound.

“We’ll have to get Thomas to mend that.” The thought of his dear friend made his mind race back to the vision of Marg. He recalled Thomas’ warning and glanced in all directions.

“What’s wrong, kid?” Illadar questioned.

Before Kale could respond, the crunching of footsteps could be heard.

Marg appeared, rushing to where Illadar stood.

“Marg!” Illadar exclaimed with relief. “I’ve done it! We’re safe from him now—it’s over.”

Kale stepped forward, tightening his grip upon his sword. “Illadar, I—”

“I am so glad you’re all right!” Marg cut Kale’s words short as she smiled at Illadar, throwing her arms around his waist.

Pushing the pain out of his mind, Illadar embraced Marg, tenderly stroking the back of her hair.

“Illadar!” Kale called out again.

“I was so worried about you.” Illadar whispered to Marg, oblivious to Kale’s words. “I thought you were—”

Kale watched as Illadar stopped short, his body now leaning into Marg. His eyes widened in fear of what had just occurred.

“What’s going on?!” Kale took a step forward with his blade pointing in Marg’s direction. “Illadar, answer me!”

Illadar pulled himself upright and teetered upon his feet. “Why . . .?” Illadar whispered.

Illadar slowly turned to face Kale. His expression appeared horrified and filled with sorrow. He cupped his hands over his chest as the blood oozed through his fingers.

Kale could see the darkened edges where something had torn through his armor.

“No!” Thomas abruptly appeared behind Kale, startling him.

Without any further exchange of words, Thomas thrust his palm out, sending a spiraling green sphere toward Marg.

“What have you allowed yourself to become?!” Thomas called out with a sense of sadness in his voice.

Kale couldn’t believe what was happening. Everything felt like a terrible dream. He watched as Thomas’ attack disappeared before Marg’s face as she grinned.

“I see my identity has been discovered. I’ve wondered how long it would take you. My dear Thomas, you are still no match for me.” Marg spoke without emotion or guilt for her actions. “Your death will come—though not on this day. I will make you wallow in the true agony of torment. The world as you know it will fall by my hand and darkness will reign. A world void of love—void of
weakness
.”

Illadar looked to Thomas as he took another stagger forward. He reached out his bloodied hand, leaving an open view of his gaping wound.

“I’m so sorry.” He gasped for air. “I never should’ve doubted a friend . . . My heart has deceived me . . .” His eyes were glassy and filled with sadness.

“Hurry and die you pathetic being!” Marg slammed her foot into Illadar’s back, causing him to stumble forward.

He fell face down, near Jedah, in the cold snow; his body without movement.

Kale’s eyes swelled. “No . . .” He clamped his lids shut as the tears rolled down his cheeks. With a sudden burst of air from his nostrils, bloodshot eyes opened wide and he cried out louder than ever before. His heart pounded with rage as he charged forward.

“Kale—no!” Thomas shouted, binding Kale in place with an invisible force. “She is too powerful; our time is not now.” He hung his head in shame. “I could not prepare myself in time.”

Kale fell to the ground, his heart thumping rapidly as he allowed his head to fall hard against his knees. “Bring him back—do you hear me, witch? Bring him back!” He slammed his fist into the ground, struggling to catch each breath. In a sudden fit of fury, he stood, attempting to make it once more to the woman who towered over Illadar’s lifeless body. “I’ll kill you!” Kale cried out as saliva flew from his mouth. He felt the tug of Thomas’ spell catch his ankle a second time, holding him in place. “Illadar . . . wake up . . . please, wake up!”

The man who had taught him so much—the man who had stood by his side, now lay upon the ground without motion. The surrounding snow reddened as blood stained the tiny ice crystals.

“He is dead to this world—as will you be, soon enough.” Marg threw her dagger to the ground. It instantly turned to tiny maggots which writhed against the cold surface.

“My knight—for yours.” She gestured to Jedah and Illadar. “Two pieces in a game of destruction.”

Without hesitation, Thomas thrust an arm forward, sending a sizable, green spear in her direction.

Marg smirked, disappearing before the attack landed.

She reappeared instantly above them, her appearance now transformed. The once soft, peach-toned skin now looked to be aged. Her simple dress was replaced by a long, violet gown, stiff at the collar.

“Morgatha . . .” Thomas clenched his fists as his face shook in anger. “Mark my words—you will pay for your actions. I will take your life as you have taken his.”

“My dear, Thomas,” the woman looked down in amusement, “you think your victory draws near—but I assure you, this is only the beginning.” The sun began to rise, casting an orange glow from behind where she levitated. “Today marks the loss of two insignificant pieces in this game.” She looked to the lifeless bodies. “Today marks the start of something you cannot prevent—today marks the dawn of retribution.”

The Chronicles of Kale

Book 1 - A Dragon’s Awakening

Book 2 - Dawn of Retribution

Book 3 - Breath of light

Aya Knight was born in South Florida, where she spent the majority of her childhood. At a young age she developed a strong passion for fantasy and a love of writing. Through movies, books and video/computer games she would escape into an alternate reality filled with adventure, magic and epic quests.

       As Aya entered adulthood, she expressed her enjoyment of writing through becoming a freelance journalist. She wrote about a broad variety of topics that gave her a brighter insight of the world. Eventually a story began to develop within her mind involving characters she immediately grew attached to. Aya knew that she needed to compile her thoughts onto paper. She grew so intrigued with the evolving storyline that she placed all hopes within the hands of her imagination, leaving journalism behind. Aya now works as a full-time novelist, where she continues to pursue her passion.