The Rebellion Read online

  At the bottom of the steps, he entered the small town of Grand Highlands and was met by countless jovial townsfolk. He nodded and smiled, ignoring their offers of drink and conversation as he searched for Sarie’s face among the crowd. At least three hundred were celebrating upon this night, and pity filled Lucian’s heart at the sight of them.

  Even though most of the townsfolk did not belong to the Order, they still felt like family and proved vital in the success of the whole, as they all shared the same ground, the same food and water. He wanted to tell them to run. To hide. But that was not the way that things should be. And it was not the way of the Order. Many of them were innocent; simple farmers and tradesmen that knew not the affairs of the shadow world that operated around them.

  The collateral damage will be great. This entire town may very well be destroyed.

  Music floated on a cool breeze.

  Newly lit campfires casted embers into the early night sky.

  Laughter from all around.

  Faces everywhere.

  Where are you, Sarie?

  Levi entered his mind. He didn’t care what the Prophet’s son thought. Sarie had been sincere with him, and they shared something that she would never share with Levi. No matter how Levi felt about their relationship.

  No matter the ring Levi offered Sarie in marriage, doing so only after Lucian proposed to her in the sanctity of the orchard at the base of the mountains.

  And no matter that she claimed her newborn son was Levi’s.

  Lucian didn’t know whether the child was his or not, and he really didn’t care either way. All he wanted was her. And if raising the child was part of the deal, then so be it. He would see it done and do his best to honor her.

  Making his way around the mud puddles on the one road that ran through town, he barely regarded anyone who met him as he cut a path through the crowd. A few questioned him and invited him to celebrate, even cursed him in their drunken stupor when he didn’t reply, but he could not be slowed down. Urgency fueled his search and he knew that time was of the essence.

  A glimmer of hope. There you are.

  “Sarie, we have to get out of here,” he said, grabbing her shoulder.

  The woman turned in surprise and laughed as she held tight to a tankard full of ale. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m sorry. I mistook you for someone else.” He pulled his hand from her shoulder, stepped back, and continued his search.

  Jamesh approached him with his famous liquor. “Lucian. Try tha whiskey? Made it specially jus’ for tonight.”

  “Not tonight, Jamesh.”

  “It’s good this time, I swear it,” Jamesh replied, bumping his fist against his chest as a promise.

  I believe you, Lucian thought as he kept moving. Goodbye, Jamesh. Thank you for all the good times, and the good whiskey.

  More faces began to show as the rains had passed.

  The sun began to set.

  Finding himself on the edge of town after searching the place through, Sarie was nowhere to be found.

  Maybe she knows the war is coming and she already left.

  He hoped that she did. At least she would be safe.

  Knowing that the destined moment was soon to come, Lucian walked along the muddy street back to the middle of the town, sat on the small hill across from the blacksmith’s shop, and waited. An urge to pull more tobacco from his pouch tempted him, but he resisted.

  He would stay and wait until he knew for certain that Sarie was safe, far from the impending fight.

  But I won’t raise arms against my brothers and sisters. No matter the side they fight for.

  He watched everyone celebrate, oblivious to what was about to happen. They danced and sang in the street. Indulged in drink and embraced one another in jubilee.

  He gave into thought. We live as if tomorrow is always promised. As if we will never die.

  Lucian sat ready with arms on his knees, anticipating anything at any moment.

  Breathe.

  Sarie sat beside him on the cool, wet grass.

  “Hello, Lucian.”

  His eyes went wide in surprise and he shifted his body to face her, careful not to panic her with news of the rebellion. “Sarie. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  She smiled and brushed the red locks of hair from her face. “Have you, now? Should I be concerned?” she asked, a sly grin upon her face.

  Lucian took her by the hand. “There’s no time to explain. Go get your son, Arkin, and meet me in the orchard. Right now.”

  She furrowed her brow in confusion at his urgency. “What are you talking about? Tonight is a night of celebration. Lucian, why are you on edge?”

  His eyes shown fierce. “Sarie. Trust me and do as I say. There isn’t much time.”

  Sarie’s confusion faded away at his urgency and her face turned ashen as she stared into his eyes.

  “Go now, and meet me back here,” he told her as he stood and pulled her up from the ground.

  “Alright. I’ll be right back,” she said with urgency, turned, and left to do as he bid.

  After she disappeared, he focused on controlling his emotions. Anxiety and fear of the unknown gripped his soul, and he pulled out his pouch of tobacco out of instinct. A packed jaw calmed his nerves, and he found comfort in it for what it was worth.

  He scanned his surroundings, knowing that this would be the last time he would be in Grand Highlands. Knowing that he would soon leave with Sarie. Nothing would be the same.

  If she truly loves me, she’ll heed my advice and leave with me.

  Doubt struck him.

  But what if she doesn’t? What if she stays? What if she is fully committed to Levi, despite her feelings for me?

  He didn’t want to think about it.

  His distant eyes focused and he saw a man coming towards him; new flames of a recent campfire burning behind him, and the crowd seemingly parting as he walked closer.

  Victor met Lucian on the hill and stood next to him.

  Lucian stared at the man, and a numb silence hung thick between them.

  Bemused, Victor watched the townsfolk celebrate, his eyes shining in the fading light. “Such is the way of man. To live with abandon. To want nothing more than pleasure, and to seek it out over everything else,” Victor mused.

  Lucian clenched his jaw and bit back the words he wanted to say.

  Victor, dressed in the black leathers that he would often wear to battle, shrugged and turned to Lucian. “But such is the way of things. A tragic and pitiful existence. Unmoved by anything other than one’s own desires.”

  Lucian noted that Victor was unarmed. “You speak as though you’re innocent of such feelings,” he retorted. “Do not act holier than thou when you, of all men, are committing the greatest crime. You put your desires above all others, no matter the cost.”

  Victor cocked his head and furrowed his brow at Lucian. “I do not seek pleasure or desire in what is about to take place. In fact, I abhor it. It should not need to take place. Yet, it is necessary. Fate deems it so.”

  “Save your pompous intellect for someone who gives an actual shit.” Lucian spat on the ground and squared up to Victor. “You’re the one who’s instigating the rebellion. The blood is on your hands.” He jerked his head away and took a deep breath before speaking to Victor again. “But you should know that it’s not too late to stop this. Damn fate and damn what you think is necessary... it doesn’t have to happen like this.”

  Victor grinned. “I wish that were so. But you are wrong. The rebellion must take place. The stones must be used to bring mankind closer to the Almighty, as He intended it. If this were not so, then why would He have blessed us with them? A new age dawns.”

  Lucian felt his blood rise. “I don’t give a damn about those stones! Lives hang in the balance. That’s all that truly matters.”

  Victor turned his gaze back to the people. “Maybe that’s so. But have you ever considered that those lives are meant to be spent for the great
er good? Perhaps those lives are already committed to being sacrificed for the cause.”

  “You’re insane.”

  Victor stared into his eyes, then looked back to the crowd.

  Silence, thick and cold, sat between them, accompanying the dawn of night.

  The moment soon passed as sounds of alarm filled the town.

  “Fire!” the crowd cried and pointed.

  The dining hall, the Prophet’s house, and all of the buildings atop the hill were ablaze.

  Lucian turned to Victor, his eyes furious.

  Victor met his gaze. “It has begun.” He began to walk away.

  “You son of a bitch. Damn you for this,” Lucian cursed.

  Victor stopped and turned in reply to Lucian. “Paul is the one who started this. It is he, not I, who seeks control, and denies anyone the chance to even reason with him. And make no mistake, his control doesn’t stop there, as it extends to his son, Levi, through the blood rite. And thus the rule of tyranny continues down the line, passing from one son to the next.” Victor looked away, then back up at Lucian from the road. “I want what’s fair and just for all. I seek the Almighty’s will. When this is all over, I hope that you find a place by my side.” He left Lucian in the town and disappeared into the frantic crowd.

  The land now dark, giving Lucian the feeling of impending danger.

  All celebration ended and turned to alarm as folk watched the flames grow atop the hill. Some ran toward the blaze in an attempt to help, fetching buckets of water and whatever tools they could use to douse the flames.

  Lucian scanned the town for Sarie.

  Hurry up.

  Everyone who was inside the buildings had made it out before the flames took them, and came down the hill to meet the others.

  From his vantage point, Lucian could see that there was no saving the buildings now, and saw Torin waving everyone away who was coming to help.

  Lucian moved closer to them, but kept his eyes peeled for Sarie. His gaze turned to the road that led outside of town, and he peered through the dark in search of Victor’s men. Between the shops and all around town, he saw no sign of trouble.

  I know you all are out there. Come on with it and show yourselves. What are you waiting for?

  He knew the massive blaze on top of the hill should have been a warning to everyone. Did they take it for such?

  Come on, Sarie. We have to get out of here, now.

  Still no sign of her.

  From behind the townsfolk who had gathered to meet Torin and the other survivors, an almost silent beam of red light shot straight into the sky and seemed to have no end, whirling flames surrounding it and lighting the night.

  “No,” Lucian gasped and ran towards the source. His anger swelled and fear gripped his heart when he saw Victor standing on the road, wielding the soul stone.

  To the left, wielded by Paul the Prophet, another beam of light shot into the sky--blue and fluid--in response to the first stone.

  “Get out of the way!” Paul yelled as he ran down the hill, soul stone in hand.

  “Move!” Torin bellowed and motioned the people to part to the sides.

  The red beam of light disappeared and the stone began to pulse brightly in Victor’s grasp. With an outstretched hand, he channeled the stone’s power and began soul tapping as and a pillar of flames shot forth, blasting towards the people.

  Paul’s stone had finished loading and, still running, he stretched his arm out towards Victor.

  Water collided with fire before it could reach the people, and steam rose from the point of impact. Victor soul tapped further, and the flames pushed the water back.

  Nearly overcome by the power of Victor and the stone, Paul tapped deeper within his soul. His power surged and so did the power of the stone. The water drove the flames back and both men were locked against one another, neither able to overtake the other.

  Within moments, the stones grew dim and their power dissipated.

  Running to fight out of instinct, Lucian pressed towards the action, still not knowing which side he was on or what he would do.

  A sudden hit sent him flying through the air to crash upon the ground. He rolled into a crouch and found Karn the giant smiling at him.

  “Hello, Lucian. Victor told me you might be troublesome for his plans tonight.” He pulled a knife and stood poised to strike.

  Lucian stood and rolled his shoulders. “Get out of my way, Karn.”

  Amused by the threat, Karn held his arms out, challenging Lucian. “Or what? What are you going to...”

  Before Karn could finish speaking, Lucian soul tapped and lunged towards Karn, driving his shoulder into the giant’s chest and sending him flying through the air to crash through the door of a building across the street.

  Seemingly in a short amount of time the rebellion had begun, and a hundred screaming soldiers emerged from the darkened road and alleys, driving towards the Order with raised weapons and a war cry that pierced the night.

  Victor fell back among their ranks, and Lucian lost sight of him among the chaos.

  Arrows flew from the back lines and over the heads of the charging rebels, seeking the survivors at the base of the hill.

  Without a shield wall to defend themselves, Lucian knew that the Order would suffer great losses.

  But the Order’s best came prepared, as Paul said they would.

  “Archers. Loose!” Torin commanded to those who came armed from the hill. He drew his bow and released an arrow with them, aiming down the road and into the bulk of the enemy forces. While soul tapped, Torin and a few others in the Order fired in rapid succession, releasing five arrows for every one that a normal man could produce.

  But Victor had those who could soul tap as well, and the number of fallen men were quickly matched on both sides before the front lines could even collide.

  A screaming man came running towards Lucian, a blade held high in his right hand. Effortlessly, Lucian caught the man’s arm and punched him in the face, rendering him still on the ground.

  He surveyed the scene.

  “Get ready!” Torin yelled to the line and drew his sword as the rebels descended upon them. The big man barked orders and somehow managed to form a front line of defense made of the Order and townsfolk. Billy, Torin, Rico, Stubbs, and Master Coll stood in front and waited. Each were soul tapped and had traded their bows for swords, while the townsfolk wielded shovels and other tools they had brought to douse the fires.

  The rebel force of charging men crashed upon the Order and collided with the front line.

  Breaking his attention from the main fight, Lucian caught sight of half a dozen armed men running towards him with a confident look of victory in their eyes.

  Come and claim it, then.

  A spear cast from one of their hands and cut through the air, straight towards his chest.

  He soul tapped.

  With fluid motion, he caught the spear mid-air, spun it around, and cracked the first man across the head. He dodged an overhead slash from the next man, tripped him with the butt of the spear, and, when the man fell flat on the ground, kicked his body across the road.

  Lucian bent low, ducking a savage slash, and drove his elbow into the thigh of another attacker. The man cried out in pain and doubled over, offering his neck. Lucian’s initial instinct was to break the man’s fragile bones, but he had swore not to kill, so he punched the man in the side of the head instead, with a restrained blow that knocked him unconscious.

  Two more blades slashed and stabbed towards Lucian, and he backflipped into the air to create a space between them. Landing, he surged towards the three remaining men and delivered a rapid succession of hand strikes to each one that left them motionless on the soggy hill.

  He spat on the ground, pleased with his withheld resolve and with knowing that the men he once called brothers still drew breath.

  With his senses enhanced through the tap, Lucian focused back on the war and saw that both lines were engaged with one
another, but the numbers on both sides were dropping fast.

  He saw the Order’s best men fighting among the mud and the muck, and found pride in his brothers’ valor.

  Rico, as fast and lethal as ever, dispatched every foe with the grace of a predatory cat.

  Billy, strong and stubborn, used his small, gaunt stature and brute force to overpower anyone who challenged him.

  Master Coll painted strokes of death with deft precision. If killing was an art, the Master of Arms was the most gifted artist Lucian had ever known. Just the fact that Master Coll was using a sword and fighting multiple opponents at the same time seemed unfair to those who faced him.

  On the edge of the fighting, Lucian noticed that Karn had joined the fight and was devastating the Order singlehandedly. But he fought against those who could not soul tap.

  Torin cut a path to meet him. “Pick on someone your own size, you inbred sumbitch.”

  Karn roared and the two engaged in a brutal exchange.

  A scream cut through the night, piercing Lucian’s ears over the clamor of battle and the throes of dying men.

  Sarie.

  With baby cradled tight in her arms, she desperately ran away from the three men that chased after her.

  Wrath filled Lucian’s soul like never before. He picked up the spear near his feet and launched it towards one of the men with savage force. The spear punched straight through the man’s back and left a gaping hole on the other side--the impact so great that it didn’t even send the man sprawling.

  The body fell as Lucian surged past. He caught the other two men at the small bridge that crossed the creek on the outskirts of town. Still in pursuit of Sarie, they didn’t see Lucian running to meet them from behind. He broke one man’s neck and slammed the other pursuer’s head against the wood railing, tossing his unconscious body into the water below.

  Sarie heard the commotion and turned around. “Lucian!” She ran into his arms.

  He held her tight, only for a moment. “We have to get out of here, now. Follow me.”

  Sarie’s eyes locked onto someone behind him.

  Lucian turned to see who drew her gaze.