It was the twilight of 1943, pitch blackness plagued the kingdom of Dourom. It was hard to tell the difference between night and day as the sky was covered with a blanket of smoke. The civil war that had torn through the kingdom had every structure on fire.
Two factions; one led by Princess Urilia raged war against her brother, Prince Swelle who had ruled since their father’s death in 1936. Under Prince Swelle’s reign, the kingdom had been plunged into chaos after the Prince lost the Lunsol in a reckless bet against their rivals; the Reith-Kul. The Lunsol was a relic of immense power, passed on from ruler to ruler of the Dourom kingdom.
Princess Urilia rallied up the top councils of the royal Insaka and led an uprising against the careless Prince. But with the support of the Reith-Kul army, the Princess and her allies faced defeat. But, there was one option left that offered hope…
Three figures presently ran through a descending passageway, heading deep into the heart of the Kompriza, the ceremonial burial pyramid of all the past rulers. They had managed to thwart the guards and were now heading for the Crypt located in the subterranean chamber.
“Why did it have to be the crypt?” Moaned Aram, “why not the Garden of Farhat?”
“Well, then anyone could get to it,” replied Shaye.
“Quit complaining Aram!” Snapped Nifrit, “you’re free to go back you know.”
“Nope, here is better than all that zapping and slicing on the surface,” responded Aram. “I never thought I’d live to be a part of the war.”
They continued running; Shaye led the way, Nifrit close behind her and Aram trailing them. The surface they ran on changed from large cobblestone to tiny pebbles in mortar. They were getting close.
“Nifrit, your armband is glowing,” said Aram, “that can’t be good, right?”
Nifrit lifted his arm to his face without reducing in pace. “We’ll soon have company,” he responded.
They reached the Crypt entrance and Aram went to work on the access panel. Plugging in his armband, he began cracking the access code.
“Hurry Aram, we haven’t got much time before they get here,” urged Shaye.
“Keep rushing me and I’ll keep making errors,” responded Aram.
Nifrit was pacing from wall to wall of the passage, letting out sighs that almost sounded like groans.
“That’s not helping either, Nifrit!” snapped Aram.
“Just get it done, man,” replied Nifrit, “It’s not like someone has a blade to your neck…yet.”
Nifrit froze mid-pace, face turned to where they came from, he heard boots rapidly stomping the passage floor. The echo of the passage made the sound even louder, accompanied by chants.
Aram finally managed to pry the door open. They rushed in, but when they tried to lock the door behind them, the all too familiar mechanical hum and click were not to be heard.
“Hacking the lock meant killing the entire system,” said Aram, “lock is a dud.”
Shaye pulled out her gun, “I’ll keep them busy, you two get to work. Fire up the bridge.”
“No Shaye, you’re supposed to be preparing for the ascension,” responded Nifrit, “I’ll do the guarding, you and Aram open up that bridge.”
Nifrit stood at the entrance, chanting the warrior’s prayer under his breath, his triple barrel revolvers at the ready.
Shaye and Aram began keying in the bridge activation sequence on the alter.
“Here you go Shaye, you’ll need this,” Aram said, handing Shaye an armband. “I made this one especially for this task.”
Shaye looked at the armband then looked at Aram. “I already have one,” she said, showing him the one on her wrist.
“Not like this one, you don’t,” he responded with a smirk on his face. “I tweaked this one to channel electrical currents into the astral realm you’re going into. This way, you make your way out in case you encounter any hostility up there. Kind of like an anchor to the world of the living.”
Shaye smiled “Your great mind Aram, it has been a great asset to the army,” she took the armband and wore it above the standard military issue she had.
Presently, they could now hear shots being fired from the passage; Nifrit was returning fire “They’re getting closer, if you do not fire up the bridge, we’ll be toast” he shouted.
Aram keyed in the last of the sequence. The alter trembled a little, let out some smoke, and began to expand at the corners. Just above the surface of the alter, a blob of lightening, the size of a baby’s head, appeared. Slowly growing in size, it began to change shape into an arch. The arch grew bigger, and soon, Shaye and Aram could see through the arch; figures like hooded people were gliding across the opening.
“I can’t hold them anymore; I need more juice in my guns,” roared Nifrit.
“Now’s the time Shaye,” said Aram. “Now remember, you’ll be able to see us from the realm you’re going to, but there is nothing you can do or say to interfere. You’ll only be responsible for what happens in there,” he said, pointing into the arch.
“Right” she sighed heavily, “no pressure at all. Need I bring you anything?”
“Besides the map?” He asked, “just my great grand uncle’s rum and steak recipe.”
With that, she bid him farewell and jumped through the arch. it closed right behind her.
“It just had to be cold,” she thought to herself. She looked back, all around her was a blue mist. When she shifted her gaze to the ground, she froze. It was like standing on a floor of glass, she could see Aram pointing his gun at the back of Nifrit’s head, who slowly lowered his guns. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. The Reith-Kul soldiers walked in to apprehend Nifrit, shaking Aram’s hand and others patting his back. She felt heat flood her face and her fingers clench into fists “Damn you Aram!” she hissed.
“You are not supposed to be here child,” a voice said that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. “Why risk your life?”
“I come on behalf of Princess Urilia and the lives of Dourom. I seek the map of Eric,” she responded, trying hard to conceal her fear. “Surely you have witnessed the chaos that has befallen your kingdom.”
“Yes, we have,” the voice responded, “but, that is your Princess and Prince’s doing. They will have to battle it out themselves.”
“And all you do is watch?” She asked, blood pounding in her ears, “what use are ancestors if they can’t steer the kingdom from doom. What is it that they say at your death, ‘in life you served, in death, you will serve?’ Well here’s your chance to serve in death.”
Silence hung around her. Then, a glowing globe appeared above her head. It bore intricate patterns and runes she remembered seeing one object; the royal sceptre.
“Come child,” said the voice “Let us save the lives of Dourom.”
This short story was published in the January 2021 edition of the WSA magazine. Please click here to download.
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