Chronicles of Domaria - Book I – The Awakening
Chapter IX – No time for mourning

The snow gently landed on the tundra of northern lands, while the cries gone through leagues of silence and calmness. The barbarians of the Highlands of Eth watched astonished the fight of the decade: Altair, the Protector, against Duhr, the Wild. The challenge had been set. Years of disputes would be solved there, in a fight to last until death. Among the barbarians that was an extremely normal habit ingrained in their rude culture. However, this battle was special: it represented the struggle for the influence and leadership of the tribe.

Kalyndra, the matriarch, was a figure adored by all, but there was a need for a male figure to guide them in battles, looting and raids. Their ancients said: women were providers, creators and wise, responsible for life and Government. The men were the perfect machine of war and destruction. This sacred duality was the key to their prosperity and survival.

She couldn’t hide her preference for Altair. More than a battle of life and death, the winner would be the great candidate to courting the matriarch and disseminate the lineage of bravery. Usually, the mother of barbarians was the most beautiful and intelligent of the tribe, seen as a divine gift of nature. Kalyndra had long red hair, blue eyes, as blue as the glaciers, and privileged physique and beauty. Even being friends with Altair since young, she watched the fight without interfering. Whatever happened, it would be the will of the gods.

The little dragon born in the tribe had already learned to fly. He circled the snowy arena of the battle, formed by the crowds shouting and celebrating in a circle. The animal was noticeably bigger than when he left the egg, he cried restlessly, like he was trying to warn about a tragedy.

Duhr didn’t like Kalyndra. He knew her clear preference for his rival and thought that she was weak. Her decisions, mostly conservative, irritated the impulsive warrior. In addition, she avoided the violence and brutality and had an interest in the occult arts of magic, which in his opinion should be classified as impure.

In the arena, the body-builders foundered on the floor. The rules of the match were non-existent, as well as the laws of the barbarians. There was the concept of honor and fight toe-to-toe, but it was not prohibited the use of tricks to win. Without melee weapons, they threw aside a bloody fight with their fists. Punches, kicks, knees, and heavy blows, dyed the floor almost entirely covered by snow with the drops of scarlet blood.

Altair was in obvious disadvantage in the fight. Even though he was a great warrior, his specialty was not the physical combat, especially against the most feared fighters of the tribe. He had many special qualities, as if the gods themselves blessed him. He was a holy man as said in the tribe. However, the fight was tough, and none of this would count in his favor.

In a push through a strong kick, Altair was able to extricate himself from his rival. He mounted guard again with raised fists and his face bleeding and swollen.

Duhr ran over him, trying to grab him. He went straight as a runaway bull after the holy warrior dodged him in a smart move. Altair interrupted the rush of the rival with a leg sweep, knocking him down with full force on the ground.

The humiliation was great. Even though there were no major injuries, the crowd were shouting as if the the wild warrior had been knocked out. Duhr got angry: his ego now was bleeding. He rose slowly supporting the hands on the floor and looking to the ground. Altair felt the momentum and ran, getting ready to jump and give him a strong blow in the back of his neck, trying to knock him out completely.

The brawl turned at the right time. Viewing the rival flying to give the coup-de-grace, Duhr joined hands as a hammer and hit him with great strength. Altair was thrown by the force of the blow and rolled on the snow of the arena. Stunned, he stayed on the floor, hoping to recover. The spectators went wild with the nice blow.

Duhr went rabid. He finished his rise of two meters high and walked slowly to the edge of the arena toward the weapons rack. He took their hatchets, who in his giant hands resembled big brass knuckles with blades. Altair still suffered on the ground, watching everything spin around. He raised only the head and saw the snow falling and the large silhouette of the rival grow on him, threateningly.

- Your time has come! Here the weak have no chance! -shouted Duhr, full of rage.

The fighter raised one hand to finish Altair with the axe, when the dragon whelp descended like a lightning, wounding him. The little beast, as a bird of prey, attacked him with the claws painfully, slashing his back and shoulders. The creature flew swiftly and turned again to apply another blow and defend his friend.

Duhr tried to evade, getting another slash of the creature in the forearm. Kalyndra rose in the throne, surprised with the reaction of the creature. Altair began to lift his body, yet struggling with the pain. The savage warrior, annoyed at the intrusion of the little winged beast, prepared his next move, aiming to strike it fairly straight.

The little dragon tore the sky like an eagle. The snowflakes melt on its scales, while he dived, ready to hurt again the barbaric giant. Duhr stood, staring at the animal, and waited for the right moment to give him the blow. In a split second, feeling the little dragon at the reach of his big arms, he gave a powerful slap, throwing the beast away and dragging it in the snow.

Any animal probably would die with the strength of the blow, but not a dragon. Nevertheless, the little felt the impact of the blow and, like Altair, was tottering, recovering from the assault. Some condemned the rudeness of Duhr, and others saw him as a hero. Kalyndra screamed and went down in rage, pulling large daggers from her waist, ready to fight the warrior.

Chaos. It was no longer a simple dispute. The matriarch had taken up the burden for the little creature, which was considered sacred to her. Rival groups have threatened to enter the ring and began to push and beat each other in a big confusion. A pitched battle between the blood brothers began, while some tried to keep the clutter out of the arena.

Kalyndra was agile and strong. Duhr was surprised by the challenge and he knew that if he didn’t defend himself, he wouldn’t leave the dispute alive. The matriarch attacked him, twice, spinning and dancing amid the blood and snow. The barbarian dodged her, even without knowing what to do. A slash leaked his defense and cut him in the chest, causing a painful wound with one of the agile and sharp daggers of the matriarch.

- Fight with honor, Duhr! If you have the guts to beat a defenseless animal, maybe you can kill me! – she screamed.

The barbarian wielded his axe and attacked back. A bloody battle started between the two. Elusive blows in the air and spectacular defenses were in every second of the fight. In a quick move, the matriarch grabbed a slow arm of the wild warrior and twisted it, causing him to drop one of the weapons.

- A crippled warrior is as useless as a castrated male – spoke Kalyndra, almost breaking the arm of the giant.

Overcome by pain and instinct, the giant’s blood boiled. It was time to put an end to everything. His delusions of grandeur and power could be supported out at that exact moment, since it had tumbled Altair, the little dragon. The only thing missing was his own matriarch. His muscles contracted with the pain, his eyes seemed taken by a demonic soul. In a burst of rage, he took strength from beyond, screamed, and untwisted the arm, grabbing Kalyndra in an amazing turnaround.

In the background, the turmoil was complete. No one else was watching the fight, only attacking or defending their countrymen. The matriarch, dominated, looked at the warrior and predicted his attempt in the summit of anger.

- May the Gods curse you! – she whispered, immobilized by Duhr.

With one arm, the giant held her firmly with a headlock. With the other, Duhr took her right hand and, in one final motion, he buried her dagger in Kalyndra’s stomach. The matriarch’s eyes bulged with the pain, while the turmoil around dulled. A snowflake faded on her face, full of dirty and blood. In a few seconds, her strength left her body, causing it to collapse on the arms of Duhr.

The Warrior, with his hands full of blood, roared, making his strong voice echo across the snowy plains and mountains of Eth. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Everyone stopped the fight immediately. The crowd looked at him, raising his hands to the heavens, bathed in blood and dirt. They also saw Kalyndra down, in a big blood stain in the snow.

- Enough! - shouted Duhr. - From now on, the power is mine!

Gradually, the Savages calmed. They just dropped their weapons and some revered the great warrior. Kalyndra adepts still couldn’t believe their eyes. Slowly, they bowed with eyes full of tears, obeying to the destiny released by the Gods. Altair, wounded, stayed with the little dragon at his side, looking astonished to the giant and to the body of his Queen.

The giant looked with angry and superiority to him and shouted out:

- There’s no place for you here! Your race doesn’t belong to us!

Laughing, he finished:

- Get out while you can.

The tribe rose against Altair and began directing screams and taunts at the loser. Some were quiet, scared, just watching the injury. The wind and the snow began to intensify. Altair turned his back, taking away his hammer and shield and ran away from the crowd. The opportunists took advantage of the situation to kill the wounded warrior, and take his possessions. He was almost surrounded and lynched.

Altair grabbed his last ounce of strength and mysteriously disappeared amid the fog and storm. Duhr, the merciless, drew the attention of the tribe, being honored and exalted. Like wild animals in a mob, they left there towards their cabanas, screaming and shaking. Kalyndra, a few minutes ago, was full of life and beauty, now she was a body on the floor, forgotten.

*

In Eldania, the mood was tense. Even with the rainy morning, the square was crowded with people seeking an explanation about the rumor that has run to the furthest ears. The pulpit, mounted from the last night, stood still in the rain. It seemed that, purposefully, it had been left to the funeral announcement of that day. Thalion had been murdered. Not even the worst conspirators and opponents could imagine such an event.

The grey of the morning that covered the city matched perfectly the black clothes of mourning people. The icy rain and uncomfortable winds mixed with the tears and sorrow of those who disbelieved that their King was gone. -What will happen to us now? – Some complained, lost. Many outsiders were packaging their things and going away from the old town. - The party’s over – they thought.

Despite the crowd, the silence was impressive. You could hear only the sound of the rain, the sniffling of noses, and the sob of crying. The armor of the soldiers and the Paladins broke the melancholic symphony, when Alister, the first of Talanthir, emerged from behind the pulpit, climbing the creaky wooden stairs.

The rain wetted his hair and cover, as well as the other warriors’ who accompanied him. They were holding their helmets and bowing their heads as a sign of mourning and respect. The Archbishop of the city also accompanied them, with his servants and pupils carrying a small tent so he didn’t get wet in the rain.

Alister slept in front of the pulpit and shouted out loud and strong:

- Attention, loyal lieges! Our King, Thalion Thorengard, is no longer among us!

The cries intensified, and some women fainted in the crowd with the thrill of the terrible news.

- Our beloved King was murdered cowardly the last night! Someone has seeped into his bedroom and without mercy, taken his life - continued the Paladin.

Alister spared the crowd of details. The King had been found in the morning by one of his servants, in a humiliating scene.

- Unfortunately we couldn’t prevent this tragedy. Whoever did this, was taken over by revenge and perversity – He summarized, without showing any emotions. - Let’s start the Ecumenical Act of His Majesty.

The chubby Archbishop took his place at the pulpit and began the long sermon, accompanied by the usual melancholy.

Sofia and Andariel walked toward the square quickly after hearing the rumors. Even the owner of the Inn they were staying was gone in the morning to check out on the event.

- Sofia! – exclaimed Andariel, while the sorceress was pulling her by hand, in a hurry.

- What? – she asked, looking at the archer girl.

The sorceress noticed some tears in her face.

- Are you sad?

- I’m really scared - the little one answered, lowering the head and searching for something in her pocket.

Sofia and the girl went down the roof of a big house, avoiding the rain that was starting to get heavier.

- What is happening? – asked the sorceress, ducking and looking into the eyes of the girl.

Andariel pulled the letter his brother had left at the Inn and delivered to Sofia. The secret was too heavy for her to carry.

- My brother! It was him! I’m sure! – said the little one, starting to cry.

Sofia read the letter and chilled out. Now the sorceress was sure he was alive. Andarion wrote the letter promising that he would return to take his sister to a life of peace and tranquility. However, he said he needed to take some urgent and radical decisions. The rogue didn’t say which, but it seemed obvious. The letter was full of hate and grief. At the end he said goodbye, promising that he would seek out for her and to not worry about anything.

- Is your brother the murderer? – Sofia asked. - It can’t be! How did he manage to enter the Palace?

- I don’t know. But I’m sure he did the same in Durunthir. - replied the little girl.

The young sorceress silenced and embraced her. She was more surprised than the girl, trying to find a way out with all the evidences. She could not find. Everything made perfect sense.

- Hey! Girls! - shouted a voice from the other side of the sidewalk, almost drowned out by the noise of the rain.

It was Rune, which passed through there looking for them. He crossed the road, rushing not to get wet, too.

- I went to the Inn, but there was no one there! Were you also going to the square? – he asked.

- Come on! – Sofia said, carrying the small Andariel.

Ilyn would meet them as arranged, before they dispersed last night. They would return to the Palace to give more details about the short expedition and get a more substantial reward after the great confusion of yesterday. With money involved, no doubt he’d show up, sooner or later.

The military presence was big in the square. The soldiers surrounded the four main arches and observed all that moved over there. Something strange was happening. The old Archbishop’s boring sermon ended, along with the rain, and Alister, again, took the pulpit to speak to the crowd.

- Dear citizens! Eldania is mourning, but we can’t give up before the misfortunes of destiny! I come to you to communicate my position as Regent, until we elect a new monarch.

- Absurd! – someone screamed. - This is a scam!

The crowd got uneasy. Many there hated the dubious figure of the champion and began to whisper and disagree.

- Silence! We need to stick together! - shouted Alister, taking a long pause. - We’re investigating the regicide and we need to take drastic decisions: from now on, the city is in state of siege. Nobody goes in or out, except with a special permit, stamped by the order.

The voice of the Regent nearly disappeared between the screaming and the high voices of people. Especially among the foreigners, the decision was challenged and rejected.

- Tyrant! You cannot keep us here! - shouted a dwarf who watched the announcement from the top of a wooden crate.

- No one will stop me in this filthy town! – said an elvish merchant, which turned around and immediately faced a soldier who was standing next to him.

- We know that the killer could be a spy or anyone. While we don’t find him, things will be like this! – Said Alister. - Foreigners will be housed in the block within the military barracks.

The disorder and protests continued, now stronger.

- Do not try to resist or counteract our orders, it will be worse for everyone! - The new Regent threatened.

- Are you incarcerating us?! Never ever! Be a man and fight! - screamed the dwarf again, raising his hammer and generating a wave of screaming, shoving and confusions in the town square.

The Royal Guard was ready, surrounding the entire perimeter. Alister was no fool and already knew the possibility of turmoil. The soldiers advanced on the crowd, catching the agitators and even arresting out some that had nothing to do with the riot. Rune, Sofia and Andariel were at the boundaries of the square and left quickly to see the widespread chaos a little bit far from it. The brave dwarf who dared to challenge the champion was grabbed, disarmed and taken by five enormous sentinels.

- Arrest the rebels and disperse the rest! My patience has worn! - shouted Alister.

Some Elite Guards grouped along with the Paladin and the Archbishop. They got off the stage and took over the north end of the square, towards the Palace. The Freedom Square became a real war site. Fruits flying, people arrested and others in the run, seeking shelter. The guard, in larger numbers, controlled the situation, forming a large block, pointing spears to the insurgents. Most would be taken to the dungeons of the Palace. With luck, some would be released or would go to the tents.

- Oh, the people… Always making it harder. - vented Alister, almost approaching the gate of the Palace.

The sycophants agreed with him and nodded positively, opening the gate.

- Alister! - shouted a hoarse and elderly voice.

Belthazar, who was inside, called his attention, with an unfriendly face.

- What a surprise! Look who decided to show up! - joked the champion.

-I don’t remember having participated in this stupid decision. – protested the old Wizard.

- Neither do I. Given your disappearance, we decided on our own. In fact, I think it is better this way. Your vote only would hinder us. – Alister retorted.

The gate was closed while Mir approached, walking into the Palace. The Archbishop agreed with a gesture, supporting the new monarch’s decision not to consult the wizard. Belthazar was quiet and looked at each person. It was a conspiracy. There was nothing else to do.

- Don’t get upset! You will have a very important role here. Unless you want to go rebel as well - said Alister, threatening the wizard.

Eldania, the stronghold of the Alliance, was now in the hands of a tyrant. Alister didn’t take long to reveal his true intentions. The Paladin always had a taste for power: during the hunts of the King, or in his presence, he was eager to interfere in the decisions. His wish had been granted. The route to the radicalism of the Talanthir Order was paved.

- And the representatives of Elensil and Thelrim? Do you think you’ll get away with it? - shouted the wizard.

- I don’t care. These traitors will get what they deserve. I have a deep suspicion that they are behind the death of our beloved Thalion. - said Alister, cunning, and full of falsehood.

- Are you nuts! You’re leading us to destruction! – roared Belthazar, almost losing his mind.

Alister ignored him and walked toward the Palace with his entourage and his bodyguard. Mir stood there a while looking at Belthazar. He seemed to agree with the old man, but had to obey his oath of loyalty to the Crown. He was the King’s right hand, no matter if the King is a Devil or an Angel. If he was seen as a traitor, he could be arrested, punished and return to his wandering life of the past. The giant turned and also entered the Palace, without looking back.

*

The warrior, the sorceress and the little archer, after hiding from the widespread confusion in the residential district, approached again. The site appeared to have been crushed by a herd of elephants. Boxes broken, food all over the place, dirt everywhere and even some personal belongings could be seen in the middle of that pile of junk. The guard had dispersed, and the troublemakers were already in prison.

Ilyn, cleverly, walked in the middle of the mess picking some valuable trinkets on the ground. The thief never lost his opportunist instinct.

- Hey! - shouted Rune.

- Oh, Have I missed something here? – said the pickpocket, looking frantically at the floor.

- We’re screwed! The King was assassinated and Alister took the throne. Things will heat up here! - replied the Warrior.

- Wow! Now, this is some news! - Ilyn joked, without giving due weight to the fact.

- I hate to remember it, but we have to go to the Palace – Sofia spoke.

- And why worry? We are heroes! - replied the mugger, sticking in his pocket some coins from the ground.

- I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about this. It’s a girl thing, you know… - said the sorceress.

Rune considered the concern of Sofia, but said:

- Anyway, we were called. It could be a lot worse if we don’t go.

He paused, and in a second thought, spoke with firmness:

- Oh, Come on! We have nothing to fear. We didn’t do anything wrong!

They gathered again and went through the north gate of the square, under the watchful eyes of the guard. With courage, the young people expected more than a reward. They wanted the promise of a better life, full of knowledge and adventure. Except Ilyn, who obviously expected only more wealth.

In the front of the place, they were received by the guard and sent directly to the creepy depot tower to wait. It was strange, because this time they were known, but the group was confident.

- Mir will come here to lead us again. It must be some sort of weird Protocol – Sofia said.

- Gentlemen and ladies! We ask, please, to leave your weapons with us – one of the guards asked resolutely.

- No! No one will take my bow away! – Andariel said, worried.

The guard ignored her. They stood there, waiting for the fulfillment of the order. The heroes looked at each other and began to pick up the equipment to deliver. Rune didn’t liked it. The guard seemed less friendly than yesterday.

- Maybe it’s all this mess out there – he thought.

Therefore, he was the first to deliver the sword.

- Here it is. But please, do not delay as much as the last time – he said.

- Don’t worry, it won’t be long - said the guard, with a strange smile.

Again, inside the tower, they saw the door closed. They sat on the old table, waiting for Mir, the Giant, to lead them to Alister and continue their adventure. They began to feel very uncomfortable. Something was going on, and everyone noticed that.

Worried, they tried to evade, speaking about generic topics. In the middle of the chitchat, they got scared with the sound of the door opening in a storm.

- Arrest them! Take them to the dungeon, now! - shouted an indistinguishable voice outside.

A group of armed huge guards broke into the room. The adventurers were in absolute disadvantage. Out of options, they raised their hands slowly, yielding. The small Andariel, in a quick reflection, grabbed a bottle of wine on the table and threw in the direction on one of the soldiers.

They even tried to protect themselves, and the bottle smashed on vigilante’s helmet, injuring his face with the glass shards. Immediately, the girl tried to run through the military, with her diminutive size and great agility. She dribbled one and the other, but a third man caught her by the hair and pulled it aggressively.

- Damn, Brat! You will surely pay for this! – said the rude man with cruel features.

- Monster! Release her, now! – Sofia, screamed.

The sorceress’ eyes burned, scaring the guards. She moved a hand toward the man, and he was hurled violently against the other two behind. The shock was general among the guards. – A Pariah! – shouted their leader. - Take them all! Kill her if you need!

A great mess began in the tower room. The heroes were trying to sneak through the barrels, tables and rafters of the place, but they were soon overpowered by brute strength and quantity of the sentinels. Andariel was already caught by two guards. Then was Sofia, Rune and, finally, Ilyn, which struggled, trying to free him up.

- You will rot in the dungeons! - shouted the leader of the guards. - Come on! Threw them there! – he finished, ordering their subordinates to take the adventurers to the underground.

Immobilized by the thugs, the four were handcuffed and dragged to an old wall which was locked with huge gate with rusty iron bars. The gate was raised through an ancient turnstile, and they were carried into the steps of a descending ladder of rustic stone blocks that seemed to have no end. The darkness and the stench rose as the descent deepened.

The place was stuffy, terrifying and reeked of urine and other waste. At the end of the ladder, the heroes were in a big dungeon. It was a giant district of ancient cells and forgotten people. They could hear the disturbing sound of mugs knocking in the iron bars all over the place. The forgotten were calling out names loudly, shouting, and laughing insanely complementing the lurid arrangement. The dim light of few torches and poorly maintained lamps drew faces and shadows more frightening than it already seemed. This is the other side of Eldania that none of them knew.

The four were dragged to an entrance of an empty and dirty cell. In the cubicle were just some old lead plates, holed mugs, almost useless, and chains on the walls holding an old skeleton. The guards, without issuing a word, took their handcuffs and kicked them into it, almost hopeless of what would happen.

- Look on the bright side: at least we have a private cell. - Ilyn joked.

Rune laid his head on the wall, in despair. Sofia sat down and put her hands on her face, desperate, and holding the tears. The small Andariel ran near the prison bars and grabbed them, shouting angrily:

Come back, you damn pig!

The heroes were abandoned in old and fetid prison. They didn’t know why, nor who had ordered to imprison them. To make matters worse, now the guards knew that Sofia was a Pariah, and probably would be sentenced to death or exiled, at best. The greatest trouble certainly was, in their own city, be regarded as criminals.

*

Alister climbed slowly the steps that separated him from the place of maximum power in the Kingdom, the throne of Eldania. He approached the Royal seat, behind the big desk of dispatches, with great arrogance and satisfaction. The paladin looked at the scroll that decorated the big wall under the aegis of Eldania and touched it. The artifact was one of the copies of the original Treaty of Domaria, signed centuries ago by their ancestors with other peoples. The champion smiled slyly as he looked up, reaching the top of the manuscript.

Old habits, old rules – he said.

He grabbed the edge of the manuscript, kneading it. His hands began to burn in a reddish glow. A magic flame. The old parchment ignited, and the flames rose quickly and took the Papyrus, until it reached the top.

By the gods! – whispered Mir.

Astonished, the personal guards and the Archbishop of Eldania attended the scene, without making a sigh.

Alister turned slowly and sat on the throne, hailing:

- Now begins a new era! The era of the strong and wise. The age of men!

The wooden roll of the parchment fell to the ground, and with it the remains and ashes of the fragile papyrus. The soot spread in the room and flew through the windows as the soft snow of the onset of winter.

- I want every man who can handle a sword at our service! - he shouted. - Those who do not submit to us will be our enemy.

The fire became extinct, as well as the Treaty, and all hope of a peaceful solution for the problems of the kingdoms.

- From this moment, I revoke the Treaty of Domaria. -decreed Alister.

The royal court looked at each other perplexed. Belthazar was the only major figure of Eldania that wasn’t there. Mir, the Archbishop, some of his most loyal guards and important clerics attended the speech, without understanding the implications on their future. The subordinates of the order of Talanthir began to applaud shyly. They smiled, anticipating the increase of power and influence with the decisions of the regent. Mir, shocked, took a little longer, but also applauded, unwillingly, only not to arouse suspicion.

*

The future was woven in that instant. The history had taught all the implications of pride and vanity, but inevitably it was repeating once again. Men, Elves and Dwarves gave the first step towards their destination, but this time, something awakened in the darkness. A convergence of dark events turned inside out the balance of forces in Domaria, leading to isolation, quest for power and to the unknown. Would it be a divine retribution for the sins of the people?

The magic, who had been contained and restricted for centuries, tried to break free of the yoke which had been imposed. But, how to restrict something that is part of each one, in its deepest essence? Balance always finds its way.

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