Lost Empire

Lost Empire

By

Jeff Gunzel

Copyright 2013 Jeff Gunzel

Smashwords Edition

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Chapter 1

The crisp, cool breeze blew inland off the vast, icy, blue ocean, its frigid bite yet another reminder that winter was fast approaching. Seagulls squawked and complained while strutting across the white sandy beach in search of tiny morsels to nibble. Finding the occasional crab or any other crustacean was quite the treat, although usually they settled on minuscule crumbs of bread or jerky—any edible reminder that people walked the sandy shore on a daily basis.

The port city of Candrin bustled with life as yet another new workday began. Massive wooden ships bobbed up and down to the rhythm of the ocean as the low-hanging sun reflected off the sparkling water. Anchored and tied in their designated spots throughout the port, the bobbing ships seemed to spring to life as sea folk scrambled about the decks in their tattered clothes and bare feet. Tying ropes, hoisting sails, and mopping decks was always how the new day started for them.

The simple, mundane projects were considered the highlight of the busy day before the real work began. Soon after the initial chores were done, human lines formed, passing down cargo to the waiting ships along the dock. The cargo varied greatly, depending on where the ships were headed that particular day. Some carried swords and other suitable weapons that had been brought straight from Denark. Steel blades, shields, and other such military goods were typically shipped north along the coast. They were destined to find new homes in the northern cities, such as Torgan and Elesam.

Others were filled with wheat, corn, and other such staple crops, all packaged tightly so they could make the trip easily without going bad. Many of these had come from as far away as Bryer and were now destined to be shipped south. Antole was a main purchaser of edible goods, and this was where a great deal of it would end up after two or three days at sea.

A varied assortment of small, family-owned shops lined the white gravel streets of Candrin. The portable overturned carts were not an unusual sight, given the heavy traffic of the port city. There were always potential buyers browsing the goods as they waited, many of which were just passing through, or getting ready to board one of the many ships and head up the coast. The local competition trying to part visitors from their coin could be quite fierce this time of year. The main problem was each and every shop carried almost the exact same goods, seeing as how fish and crab were about all the city was known for, so the only valid claim merchants could ever make was that theirs was the freshest. And claim they did. Shouts could be heard far down the streets, as well as bells, chimes, and any other device that had no other purpose than to make noise and draw attention.

However, everyone was more than a little distracted these days and had a hard time selling the well-memorized sales pitches. The crewmen who scampered around the ship decks were no exception either. They methodically went through the motions of their tedious jobs, even though their distracted thoughts remained elsewhere.

Exaggerated stories of the recent raid on the great city of Taron blazed through the city like a fire out of control. Given the sheer number of tales that seemed to pop up overnight, there could be little doubt— something indeed had happened. As to what exactly was anyone’s guess. But despite the radical differences from one rumor to the next, the similarities were even more disturbing.

Every new account seemed to hold some version of a demonic battle taking place in the sky. The fact that details surrounding this phenomenon varied wildly was of little importance. Only a fool would not be skeptical of such heavy exaggeration. But so many different accounts regarding the same events were hard to ignore. Perhaps even more alarming still were the whispers claiming it to have been the Gate Keeper himself. Even the most educated believed the
legend
to be just that, and no more. But still, so many similar reports...

The arrival of Taron’s messengers within a month after said events did nothing to calm the wild rumors. Wearing their green and gold uniforms, the pack of ten rode into Candrin in the middle of the night. Even with the halfhearted attempts to try and remain secret, the event had hardly gone unnoticed. After an all-day meeting with Lord Andry, the mayor of Candrin, the team of messengers did their best to disappear from the city while drawing as little attention as possible. A failed attempt, to be sure.

While hastily mounting their horses, they tried to ignore the shouts and questioning from the locals who had gathered out in the street: questions of the fate of Taron, and of the sky battle so many had heard about. Far too many boldly demanded answers as to whether or not the famed Gate Keeper had really come. Of course the Queen’s messengers ignored all the impatient inquiries, but began to ride off with haste when
those
types of questions echoed through the streets.

And as if any more winds were needed to keep these stories and rumors blazing along, no more than a day after the messengers had left, the main warehouse in the shipping yard was suddenly closed off to the public. Thick white fabric was hung across every window to hinder wondering eyes. Only a select few of the finest shipbuilders were granted entrance, but were not allowed to leave, not even to see their families or loved ones. Whatever was going on in there was possibly the most heavily guarded secret in the history of Candrin.

****

Eric wandered down the spacious palace hall as his mind shifted endlessly in circles. The enormity of the dire situation that had somehow fallen to him was more than enough to consume even the hardiest. The sheer pressure of hopeless responsibility hanging around his neck, threatening to bring him to his knees, was more than should be asked of any man. What was he supposed to do now? What could he do? It had even turned out that this doomed quest would lead him beyond the borders of Tarmerria. He would be forced to leave this land to go someplace no one had ever heard of? This was madness.

Enough
! He stopped in his tracks, just long enough to run a set of fingers through his curly brown hair. He tilted his head back, his hand still tangled deep in his thick curls, and gazed up at the ceiling.
Enough worrying about things I can’t control
! The clear thought rang with truth and helped to calm him a bit. How does one prepare for things they don’t understand in the first place? A fool’s quest, to be sure. And besides...

He would hardly be alone. Here he was, trying to solve all the world’s problems at once—a mindset he needed to abandon sooner or later, or go completely insane. No, the companions who would accompany him on this fool’s quest were not just random citizens, obligated to do their sworn duties. They were real friends who would follow him into hell if asked to do so, friends who had more than proven their loyalty time and time again. Reminding himself for the hundredth time how lucky he was to have such companions, he continued his slow march once more.

After wandering lazily through the halls for some time, he finally entered the dining hall. Azek sat alone at his usual spot, frowning down at a plate of eggs. He wore strangely casual attire this morning, brown britches with a slightly faded black shirt. The Queen was nowhere to be seen. Eric’s wandering eyes shortly fell on Jacob, who was also sitting alone, leaning back arrogantly with his fingers locked behind his head.

His attire was no less odd than Azek’s, but for a completely different reason. The man was dressed from head to toe in bright green attire. From his green button-down shirt to his slightly darker breeches, it seemed he could hide in a forest rather easily. With his blond hair raised in its usual spiky style, along with his golden hoop earrings, the man looked quite festive today. Eric strolled over and took a seat next to him. “Where are the girls this morning? What are they up to?” Eric asked as he looked around, trying his best to keep his eyes off the obnoxious outfit.

Before Jacob could say a word, Jade popped her head through the broad doorway. Unmasked mischief glistened wildly in her light blue eyes. The boys hunched their shoulders while sinking deep into their seats. They knew that look all too well. There would be no bargaining here, nor any way of stopping her from whatever craziness she had planned. They would have no choice but to let her little prank play itself out. They glanced at her for only a second before letting out a collective sigh.

“
You boys are in for a special treat!” she said with a smirk as she entered the room. “You can come in now,” she shouted toward the door. A long, awkward moment passed as the three stared at the unchanging scenery. Jade let out a nervous laugh as she began drumming her fingers together. “Uh...now, Athel. You can come in now.”

“
No!” came the desperate cry from the hall.

The boys’ polite smiles suddenly became quite genuine as their curiosity began to grow. What were these girls up to? Jade began to flap her hands up and down like a hummingbird as she rose up on her toes. Her perfect little show was falling apart before her eyes. “Athel!?” she shouted in frustration as her hands came down, smacking her thighs loudly.

“
Everyone is going to laugh at me!”

Jacob shrugged as his smirk grew even larger. “Well, we certainly can’t rule out that possibility.” A series of hard smacks peppered his shoulder as he curled up in a defensive ball, but his grin remained.

“
Why must you always do that?” Jade whined after her halfhearted assault had played itself out. She turned back toward the doorway. “Athel, please, you look stunning.”

Slowly but surely, Athel’s head peeked through the doorway. She never really smiled all that much anyway, but her deep scowl seemed more genuine than usual. Her wild braids flared out with their usual red, white, and black beads, but now a large, light blue bow tilting slightly off-center seemed to be the latest ornament.

“
Common,” Jade mouthed silently, stomping a foot as she gestured for her to enter.

Athel reluctantly crept through the entrance with her head hung low. Silence hung heavy in the air as the two boys stared wide-eyed with open jaws. She wore high-heeled black leather shoes with low-cut white stockings trimmed with pink elastic that just managed to cover her ankles. A nearly alarming amount of exposed leg led up to a short light blue skirt, with pink embroidery and puffy white ruffles gracing each shoulder. With her elegant garments radiating charm throughout the room, her constant scowl now seemed even more out of place. “I look a fool,” she muttered while wringing her hands nervously. Her bright green eyes peeked through a curtain of hanging braids that she made no attempt to remove.

Jacob rose from his seat slowly and smoothly drifted toward her, never once taking his eyes from hers. Athel rocked back on her heels and drew her head down between her shoulders like a turtle as Jacob boldly invaded her space. He reached out and gently brushed the curtain of thick braids away from her face. With an effort, she met his eyes as a hint of a smile began to melt away her scowl. “You most
certainly
do not,” he said as he leaned in closer. This time, she didn’t retreat any farther. He spoke in her ear, “You look beautiful.”

Her nose crinkled slightly while her green eyes sparkled. Her silver front teeth reflected the shimmering light from the crystal chandeliers as she smiled widely. Her innate shyness screamed for her to look away from him, but she simply couldn’t.

“
Jacob speaks the truth, Athel,” came the Queen’s voice from behind them as they both jumped, shaken free from a private world neither had intended to enter. “You simply don’t seem to know how beautiful you really are.” Ilirra held their eyes a moment longer than necessary, clearly amused at the result of her intrusion.