The Immortal Calamity

The locks were undone and for the first time in over a day, I was able to lower my arms. The relief in my tired muscles was nearly enough to forget the shackles still binding my wrists and legs.

Even now, surrounded by a stronghold filled with thousands of soldiers, Orias did not lower his guard. He kept more than a dozen crossbows aimed at us as we were marched towards an intimidating stone castle built into the rocky mountainside. Sharp spikes decorated the path, and my exhausted mind imagined the soldiers of the stronghold mounting the heads of dead enemies on them.

The entrance to the castle was a massive metal door covered in more spikes. Ten soldiers were needed just to open the doors enough for us to enter.

Inside was not the stately entranceway normally found in such a large castle. Instead, the other side of the door was filled with thick metal bars that formed a hallway that was only wide enough for one person to pass through at a time. All of the bars were lined with more sharp spikes, like long metal thorns. On the other side of the bars, I could see more soldiers. All of them were armed with spears and crossbows. It felt more like a prison than a castle.

I felt sorry for any enemy that ever tried to take this castle through the front entrance. It was a deathtrap. Fighting in such a narrow spike-filled corridor would be impossible, but the enemies could attack without worry from the other side of the metal bars. I could even see arrow slots above us, aiming down.

The hallway of metal bars did not even follow a straight line. It zigzagged randomly, before coming to a stop in front of another metal door.

I shuddered thinking about the thoughts that went behind designing a castle like this. It reminded me more of a place to torture invaders than a castle to protect the border. Whoever did this was determined that the castle would never be taken through a direct assault.

Past the second door. There were no windows now. The only light was a few torches flickering in the dark. I had no doubt we were deep in the mountain. There were no more metal spikes, only a hallway that curved to the right.

We passed dozens of smaller doors. These were not made of metal, but they were still reinforced with it. A few were open, and I could see a kitchen and a mess hall filled with soldiers. Finally, we came to a stop in front of an unassuming door among the dozens of other doors.

“General Izmos wants to meet with you personally,” Orias said with a gruff voice, “If you say anything disrespectful, I will cut you down myself. Understand?”

My parents both nodded silently. I swallowed dryly. The general would be the one to decide our fate, and based on what I had seen of the castle so far, he was not a gentle person. If we did anything to anger him, I had no doubt our heads would be mounted on of the spikes outside.

Orias took the lead, and the door slowly creaked open to reveal the room beyond. The dim light from the torches lit the interior. Ten chairs surrounded a crude wooden table that looked like it was about to fall apart from age.

Bathed in shadows from the dim lighting, there was only a single person in the room. Seated at the head of the table was a withered and skinny old man with a hunched back and a balding head of grey hair.

The old man grinned and let out a dry, wheezing laugh, revealing a mouth of missing and crooked teeth. “Renald and Tia Ventus. This is an unexpected gift from above. Sit, sit join me for dinner. You must be hungry.”

“This is the famous mountain general?” I heard Donte remark in surprise. There was a loud thump as Orias hit the back of his head.

The old man, General Izmos, let out another dry chuckle. “Do not mind the child captain. Yes, I am General Izmos, commander of this stronghold for nearly forty years.”

My dad sat down at the table, chains clinking as he moved. “You do not seem to want us dead. That is always nice. It is a pleasure to meet you general.”

“Dead? Whatever gave you that idea? No, no, no, I do not want you dead. That would be such a waste. Sit. Sit. I will explain.”

I joined my dad at the table followed by my mom and a more hesitant Charly and Donte. As soon as we sat down, a soldier entered the room carrying a tray of plates laden with food. The delicious smell instantly sent my stomach rumbling. After two days without food, I was practically drooling when the plate was set down in front of me. I completely forgot my manners as I bit into a massive piece of meat.

“W-what if it’s poisoned?” I heard Charly whisper.

“If they wanted us dead, they would not have to use poison,” I replied rolling my eyes.

General Izmos let out another wheezing laugh. “Your children are very lively.”

“A little too much sometimes. I apologize for their lack of manners,” My mother said calmly while glaring at Charly and me.

“When you get to my age, manners have long since stopped being important,” General Izmos said with a toothless grin.

“Do you treat all your prisoners to a feast?” my father asked eyeing the plate of delicious food.

“Only the useful ones,” General Izmos replied the grin disappearing, “I have a proposition for you if you are interested. One that does not end with you dishonored and ransomed back to the Novus.”

“We will not betray our kingdom,” My father said firmly.

“No. No. No. I do not need you to betray your kingdom. Quite the opposite actually. I want your help saving both our kingdoms.”

“Explain,” My father said skeptically.

“The kingdom of Romlas has fallen,” the general said slowly, “A little over a week ago, thousands of Demonkin appeared inside their capital and major cities seemingly overnight. From the reports I have read, some kind of drug caused it. I have heard of a cure, but I guess Romlas did not, or did not believe the dangers.”

I grimaced. Even if the Free Cities acted fast to contain lot twenty-three, the drug had been in circulation for months. It was not surprising other kingdoms were affected as well. I could only pray that there was not enough of the drug still in circulation to affect more kingdoms.

“Romlas has fallen? That means…” my father said hesitantly.

“War.” The general finished. “The fall of the Romlas government was seen by the surrounding countries as an opportunity to expand. All of them marched their armies, hoping to claim a piece for themselves. General Arthur, of course, was the quickest to respond. He captured a major stronghold before anyone even knew what happened.”

“What exactly do you want from me?” my father asked, “Do you want our help negotiating with General Arthur or something?”

“No. No. No. None of that is important anymore,” General Izmos replied, “As of two days ago, all countries have lost contact with the armies inside Romlas borders.”

“Lost contact! How?”

“Three days ago, a red mist appeared. In less than twenty-four hours, it covered almost all of the country. Anyone who comes into contact with the mist falls sick within hours and collapses within a few days.”

I shuddered, understanding the full weight of what he just said. “How many people lived in the Romlas Kingdom?” I asked dreading the answer.

The general turned to me, looking at me properly for the first time. “Romlas was a fairly small kingdom, but even then, it was still a kingdom. It should have had close to a million citizens within its borders.”

I felt a chill travel up my spine. I stared at the plate of food in front of me and felt like vomiting. I no longer had any appetite. Beside me, I could see Charly turn pale as well.

“Are you worried for their safety, child?” the general asked.

“For ours,” I whispered quietly, knowing all too well, it was too late to save those million souls.

My father spoke up, drawing the general’s attention away from me. “You still have not told me what you want us to do.”

“Through some trial and error, my scouts learned that the only way to enter the red mist without falling ill is through the protection of runic glyphs. While the knowledge of how to use glyphs has spread through the kingdoms, you, Renald Ventus, are one of the best. What I want, is for you to accompany a squad into the Romlas Kingdom. Find the missing troops, and help them retreat out of the mist.”

“Absolutely not!” I shouted, pounding my fist on the table.

Everyone turned to look at me, started by my sudden outrage.

“Perhaps the children should wait outside,” General Izmos said calmly.

“She stays,” My mother replied firmly before turning to me, “Wren, what is wrong with the mist?”

“Does no one ever read Church records?” I growled.

“I do,” Charly replied quietly, “The red mist is mentioned by the church as the first signs of an invasion. Demonkin can spew it from their mouths. Anything that comes into prolonged contact with the mist is corrupted. They either die… or become Demonkin themselves.”

“You actually believe that superstitious nonsense the church spews?” Orias asked incredulously.

“Wait a week. When those sick scouts of yours start turning into monsters, you will not call it superstitious nonsense then,” I spat back, glaring at Orias.

“The church has already warned me about the mist, and based on the reports from my scouts we should believe them,” General Izmos spoke, a firm determination in his voice, “No matter the risk, I will not abandon my troops. If you are half the knights others say you are, I know you will not abandon general Arthur either. With or without your help I will be sending the rescue team tomorrow morning. You can either join it and we will work to help both our nations or you can stay here as my prisoners till you are ransomed back to the Novus Kingdom in a couple months when the turmoil dies down. The choice is yours.”

My father thought quietly for a moment before turning to my mother. “What do you think?”

My mom looked at me and smiled softly. “I am sorry Wren. I know you do not like this, but we are still knights under General Arthur. If he is in trouble, we are honor-bound to ride to his aid. Regardless of the danger and no matter the peril. We are the Silver Blades.”