Balance of Death Read online

  “Is that your end game?” Ruvaen probing to discover Azreil’s motives.

  “Not even close. That is merely the beginning.” Azreil declares as he stands leaning on the glass looking down into the enormous cave in front on the other side of the glass. “Two things that we are told as children are inexorable. The gods, and death.” Azreil shares before finishing his glass and proceeding. “I would have them meet, and see them both forever stricken from my providence!” Azreil says as he squeezes his mug cracking it in his hands. The cave seems to tremble from his anger. Small debris shaken loose from the movement falls from the top of the cave to the immense depths.

  “You speak of things far removed from our capabilities.” Ruvaen pleads. Worried by Azreil’s dangerous words.

  Azreil steps back spreads his arms out tensing every muscle cutting across his body. The tattoos on his back light up as it does bolts of lightning shoot from around him cutting the air cracking the glass. Ruvaen stumbles and makes his way to the back of the room in shock.

  A good distance out the window in the cave emotional energy builds. It starts bouncing around shattering the walls and surroundings causing enormous boulders to break away from the structure. The energy taking various monstrous forms; reminiscent of the demon the Amnekian college was experimenting on in front of Asta and Daeva.

  A skull of pure energy missing its jaw screams towards the room just before it enters Azreil points both his hands forward palms facing outward his biceps and forearms are flexed sweat dripping from them. The energy skull stops just before him a droplet forms on the upper jaw of the skull and drips as it hits the ground searing and burning it Azreil grips his teeth and the emotional energy is violently pulled into a spiral at the center of the cave.

  Loud snaps and cracks coming from their convergence a shock wave sent out explodes out the side of one of the major columns. As it crumbles the ceiling begins giving way. Azreils left and right arm light up as the sphere of converging forces begin sending out shockwaves in all directions shattering the inside of the enormous cave.

  Azreil begins roaring; spit flies from his mouth and the sphere condenses. The air in the cave turns hot and spontaneous combustion sparks all around as electricity screams all through the cave. Suddenly a giant column of energy erupts from Azreil’s hands through the wall of the cave, and as it is exhausted nothing in its path seems to pose any resistance finally breaking completely through what must be hundreds of feet of solid mountain into the outside world as it finishes one last shockwave crumbles more of the cave and with that final shockwave the air begins to settle and everything smolders and heat radiates from every portion of the cave. As Azreil lowers his arms and stands tall looking onto a hole a thousand times his size cut through the mountain revealing daylight at the end of the tunnel.

  As the massive cave breaths heavy from the terrifying power displayed Ruvaen walks towards Azreil in shock. “How..” Ruvaen attempts to form words as he stands in awe at the destruction Azreil fathered.

  Azreil steadies his breath from the exhausting of energy. “Many have sought to further their chakra or spell prowess, but few have pushed the limits of mental energy, and with this I shall educate the gods.” Azreil proclaims.

  “Lets begin.” Ruvaen convinced.

  Chapter 12

  The following morning, within the region of Phalyados, in the kingdom of Nidium. Daeva sits on a throne meant for the syndicate leader of this area. It is last major stronghold for Lucio’s syndicates in this kingdom. It is a small collection of buildings built along the edge of the mountain. Amidst these buildings is the main hall where Daeve is. It is a rectangular building of wood with a gable roof; the beams for the roof are visible from the inside.

  Two men drag the syndicate leader for this camp in chains; they are accompanied by Kredulus. They drop the syndicate leader down to the ground. Celso the main syndicate leader for this kingdom. He has an unremarkable presence. Behind his now defeated demeanor you can almost make out a man of power and position. Now he is reduced to an elderly man with gray hair and a receding hairline. His face is long and nose rounded. He stares at the ground knowing it is unlikely he will receive mercy for betraying Daeva- the Kentro.

  Daeva stands up and begins pacing in front of the throne. “When did you last communicate with your Lucio?” Daeva asks as he continues to pace.

  Celso shakes his head before lifting it; “Around seven days ago now. He told us to prepare for a fight.” Celso reluctantly complies.

  “Do you know where Lucio is now?” Daeva continues his line of questioning.

  “I do not.” Celso replies with a sigh. “I imagine either in Egux or Poetovio .” Celso finishes.

  Daeva stops pacing and looks at Celso. “Why would you fight against your Kentro?” Daeva wants to understand how Lucio managed to turn so many to his cause.

  “Lucio purposefully kept us all in the dark about anything to do with the circle beyond him. I had no idea what all this was about. To be completely honest I am still unsure.” Celso shakes his head.

  “Well.. “ Daeva starts, but before he can finish Jerek storms in.

  “Kentro!” Jerek yells. Bursting in before taking a knee. “Forgive me, but…” Jerek stops when he notices the man in chains. “There is news from Poetovio.” Jerek finishes.

  “Clear the room.” Daeva commands. The men who brought Celso in force him to his feet, and walk him out. Two other men who were standing by the exit follow them. Shutting the large wooden double doors as they exit. Kredulus and Jerek remain knowing Daeva wasn’t speaking to them.

  Once they are alone Jerek continues. “The attack on Poetovio’s first storage point led by Cotus has been decimated, and most of the men were killed.”

  Daeva turns and strikes the top of the throne his fist crashing through the thick stone and breaking the backrest. The room is silent as Daeva lashes out.

  As the dust from Daeva’s strike settles, Kredulus cannot hold back his concern for his enforcer. “Is Cotus alive?”

  “Yes, everyone of note survived. He did lose a great deal of his force though.” Jerek responds. standing as he addresses Kredulus. Kredulus sighs with relief nodding his head as he absorbs the news.

  “There is more we haven’t heard from Aisus’ unit headed to assault the next stronghold in Poetovio.” Jerek continues.

  Daeva knows losing a battle against one of his-insubordinate-radians makes him look weak; one failure can mar a hundred successes. Considerable resources from his radian’s and his own coffers have been spent to fund this war. Daeva doesn’t need anything to further diminish him in the eyes of his other radians. The three discuss strategy throughout most of the night.

  Daeva is in the main hall addressing Kredulus, Tiaan, Aeshma, and Jerek. “Once you each of you have secured your assigned kingdoms we will reconvene. I have no interest in rushing into Poetovio if Lucio wants to draw back and fortify I will wait and let him consume his resources, while we regroup and strengthen.” Daeva tells his men. As much as he wants a quick end to this conflict he refuses to allow Lucio to best him again.

  Asta enters but not with her usual forcefulness: wearing her normal biston armor and kimono. “I must speak with you.” Asta says to Daeva as she walks past the group. She knows this will not be an easy conversation.

  “Give us a moment.” Daeva to his men before turning and addressing Asta. He pauses waiting for her to initiate the conversation. He doesn’t want his anger to lead him to assumptions and guide the tone or direction of the conversation.

  The rest of the men exit the hall leaving only Asta and Daeva left. After a few moments of silence Asta meets Daeva’s gaze and begins. “There is something I must ask of you.” Asta takes a moment to asses Daeva’s initial reaction. Years of experience highlight a few subtle indications of anger in Daeva’s disciplined reaction: a slight tightening of the jaw, and muscle twitches of the face. “I will work with you to ensure nothing is left unattended for the time you will be meeting with a gue
st at the Nidium capitol.” Asta finishes.

  What would be intense anger is dimmed by Daeva’s concealed affinity for Asta, and instead turns to disappointment. “Sometimes I wonder if you overlook my support. It is not you who holds together the circle. It is not you that maintains the daily tasks required to ensure the prosperity of all the infrastructure that you abuse. Great force on one point will not move a boulder only puncture it, and this is something I thought you keenly aware of. Yet it seems you continue to overlook this.” Daeva vents expecting Asta to lash out for his words.

  Asta takes such words from Daeva as console, where-as, from anyone else they would stand as a challenge. With a harsh expression and a deep breath out. “I understand, and I will hear your troubles to personally see them handled. But, I need you to be at this meeting.” Asta’s tone takes an unfamiliarly collaborative tone.

  Daeva recognizes her concession and appreciates it. “Well then what is the purpose of this?” Daeva asks.

  “It will merely be an introduction between you and the sage of Shanshe clan.” Asta answers.

  Daeva surprised by this he takes a second to think of what this could mean. “This could endanger our alliance with Amneka.” Daeva raises his concern.

  “Thromb, the man you will meet, will be very discreet, and the meeting will be held just outside Nidium’s capitol. Allowing us to secure the location. I will task the remainder of my death dealers to fortify our position here.” Asta assures Daeva.

  Daeva is frustrated with all the confusion behind Asta’s motives. “What are you doing with all this. What is your goal?” Daeva presses.

  Asta gets closer looking Daeva in the eyes. She places her hand on the side of his head. “Trust me, when I am able, I will share with you my thoughts.” Asta concludes before catching herself lost in the moment and moves her hand patting him on the shoulder. Both of them have had much experience with physical intimacy, but this is different. The touch resonates not with merely a physical reaction, but with something inside them. Deep emotions, and a connection, tied with physical exhilaration is foreign to each of them. Her words alone would fall far short of soothing Daeva’s contentions; however, her touch seems to have filled whatever gap her words couldn’t

  Asta speeds out like a powerful gust of wind. As she races back to the transportation room her mind begins to flurry. So close to achieving her goals, and some pathetic radian stands in her way. The thought of it ignites her anger. “I’ll show that fuck Lucio his place.” Asta declares out loud.

  .

  Thromb arrives at the circle’s transportation hub in the Wrathbrook capital. He walks in with Korydon and Oenopain two of Shanshe’s most powerful masters. Thromb wearing his normal disciplined robes. Two layers the top being a darker umber and just beneath more form fitting taupe cloth. The other two wear Ngombe hide wraps around their forearms, fists, torso, and calves; they are also wearing a long draping robe over them, and Oenopian has a katana underneath the robe and a large wooden and straw hat that looks like the top of a wicker basket.

  As they make their way through the building their presence draws the attention of the circle’s men as they pass. Finally, they arrive at a small room. The man leading them stops. “This is the transportation room. We can transport you one at a time.” The man explains. Attempting to instruct one of them to get in.

  The two look at Thromb. They were not expecting to have to split up. Even with the little threat these men pose they don’t like anything unexpected. “I’ll go first, and when I arrive.” Thromb taps his bald head indicating to them that he will be in telepathic contact through Soten prior to travel. The men are still conflicted, but will obey their sage.

  Thromb steps into the room and the door shuts behind him. It feels sterile and the room is just big enough to serve its purpose. It is perfectly cylindrical. There are two domes, of crystals, poking out towards him on the ceiling. The left dome contains lighter colored crystals cut to specific shapes clustered inside the dome. The right contains darker colored crystals; just as specifically cut and set, but in a different pattern.

  Thromb hears three knocks then the crystals on his right begin to flare just as they do a force shoots out from his location and he is gone. He wakes standing in a similar, but slightly different room. He falls back slightly as he regains himself. It feels like he was remembering this location before waking up to being here.

  Back at the Wrathbrook hideout the other two stand there as the man tries to get through to them. “You have to step in there to be with your friend…” the man says as he stares at them expecting them to catch on. “Fucking idiots.” The man blurts out. Korydon is standing with his eyes closed and palms together at his chest. “Listen if you fucks aren’t..” The man is interrupted as Korydon suddenly opens his eyes and nods. This causes Oenopian to push past the man and enter the room. The man angered by this, but swallows his anger knowing these men are from the clans. Their legendary powers invokes fear in him.

  Before long Oenopain, then Korydon are transported to Nidium and meet up with Thromb. Once they are all in Nidium they are brought into an open room that seems to match the desolate nature of the city of Nidium. While still a decent sized city with around ten thousand inhabitants it is still very young. It isn’t due to a lack of credits, as the nearby mining outposts bring in lots of wealth, but rather most people are afraid to invest too much into the area; not knowing if the city will continue to grow or die out.

  The three clansmen standing looking up at an opening in the ceiling where a skylight is being built. Oenopain grows tired of waiting, and sees one of the circle’s guards looking at them. He postures himself in front of the guard crossing his hands with his right hand resting on his katana hilt. The guard seems surprised at first then his shock turns to fear. Oenopain despises these men, and loves making them eat the fear they usually dish out. Before their exchange can heat up any more one of Asta’s death dealers walks in. “Welcome, I will explain where you will be meeting Daeva.”

  A while later the three men arrive at their meeting point. Far enough outside the city to not attract the attention of Amneka, but close enough for convenience. Amongst this very rock terrain of deep jagged gullies, dried out for some time, there is a building carved into one of the large draws. A sloped roof jutting out of the mountain; with some light shining from it. The three men make their way inside; it is a deceptively large building. Most of the structure is embedded into the mountain. The inside has lots of private security to safeguard the many goods it sells for travelers and miners.

  It is a mostly open interior with only a few doors restricted to the public. Food, tools, weapons, and resources cultivated from the all around the kingdom of Nidium are displayed in this large open area for patrons to browse. And, of course a few tables sitting out with a tavern to serve mead.

  The three men are standing by a table in the tavern area waiting for Daeva. Korydon notices out of the corner of his eye a stranger with a cloak and hood covering him. The stranger stands at the bar with a full mug of mead. “The man at the bar.” Korydon quietly whispers. Oenopain lifts his head to look at the man disregarding any concern for subtlety.

  The man at the bar notices, turns and leaves. Korydon follows Oenopian’s gaze and notices the man leaving. “You idiot.” Korydon lashes out. Any hope of gaining additional information is forfeit in his eyes.

  “This isn’t Thorza boys we are only in Nidium.” Oenopain says before walking towards the man. With his hand on his katana hilt poking out of where his robe splits down the middle. He moves aggressively through the crowd, and the man takes notice and starts running towards the exit.

  Thromb sees the escalation. “Fuck.” Thromb exclaims knowing Oenopain will not temper his response.

  Oenopain jumps up gracefully leaping across the tables and support beams. Only slightly disrupting patrons. As he makes his way over the crowd he composes a Soten to enhance his weight dramatically just before he lands: crashing down shattering the wooden
floor boards. Now standing between the man and the exit. “Why are you here stranger.” Oenopain asks confidently as he crosses his arms.

  The cloaked man turns sideways and lifts his arms exposing his forearms before casting a spell. Oenopain immediately moves towards him, but the man brings his arms to his chest and thrusts them outwards sending wind thrashing outward in a large burst. Anyone nearby is hurled backward. Even tossing Oenopain. As Oenopain lands on his feet getting ready to counterattack the hired guards rush over pointing their cannons at the two of them.

  The man drops his cloak exposing the uniform of a mystic black opsmen: custom biston armor tight to his skin with a small drape from their waste that hangs down covering half of their thighs. Their shoulder pads held to their biston chest piece is attached with a Jacsha seal. It is known that only members of the mystic ops wear this Jacsha seal, as the incredibly strong and distinctive laurel green metal is very rare and expensive. “I am a mystico opsmen under, for his regency Victi Itosius. Aid me in arresting this man and his colleagues or be enemies of Amneka.” The opsman commands.

  The men surrounding them pause for a moment letting their guard down as they let it sink it before turning their cannons to Oenopain. “Oh good.” Oenopain says. Composing an Ekten to manipulate the density of his blade before ripping it from its sheath spinning it around his hand jutting it backwards cutting the ground as he does. “This wouldn’t have been fun if it was just him.” Oenopain remarks.