Yami (eBook)

Prologue: Alistar

Kingdom of Darnhall, 1503

A large man with short, brown hair was walking through a crowded city. He had a square face and brown eyes. He was wearing all white. White strapped boots and pants. A white, long sleeved cloak wrapped around his body and flowed to his ankles. With the hood covering his head, his face was shadowed.

As the man walked through the city, he saw malnourished, elderly and sick people lying against its walls. They had their hands out begging for scraps and coins. One man, in tattered brown clothes, started to cough up blood. It spewed over his crusty lips, and groans of pain came next.

Disgust grew on the man’s face as the smell of sickness and shit filled the air. As he moved through the town he saw thieves and thugs lurking in dark alleys, conmen selling faulty merchandise and soldiers abusing their power over the weak.

How can the leaders of this country allow this to happen to their people? It pisses me off, he thought to himself as he reached a market closer to the middle of the city.

It was full of traders selling fruits, vegetables, grain, copper jewelry and brown, cheap clothing. Over the roar of the crowd, he heard a crackly woman’s voice.

“Hey, you. Young fella, come here.”

He turned his gaze suspiciously toward the woman. Her appearance matched the crackly voice, old, haggard and grey, but as he studied her, he saw a softness in her eyes he had not expected; she may have lived a hard life, but there was a kindness in her cloudy eyes that allowed his guard to relax a little. Still cautious to his environment, he walked over to the woman, remaining silent.

“Come closer, I have never seen you here before,” the woman said.

“You’re right, this is my first time visiting Darnhall,” he said before pulling back his hood and revealing his short brown hair.

The woman gave him a toothless grin and walked around her fruit stand, hunched over a little. She was small, only standing as tall as his waist.

“Yep, a handsome young man like you is someone I would not forget,” she said as she rapped her crooked, wrinkly finger to her nose.

He didn’t reply but shifted his gaze to her fruit stand.

“Tell me, stranger. Are you here for the meeting of kings?”

Her question grabbed his attention. He heard a voice inside telling him to act.

She knows you’re a Villarian, get rid of her.

He ignored the voice, gave the woman a slight smile and asked, “Why would you think that, Ma’am?”

“I have seen some strange characters roll through my market over the past few days, all heading up to the King’s hall,” she told him, pointing up the hill to the stone walls, “and my friend, I hate to break it to you, but you’re as strange as strange comes around here. Maybe if you didn’t wear so much white you wouldn’t stick out like a pretty lady in a tavern.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said as he tossed her a silver coin, took an orange from the stand and turned to walk off.

“Wait! I never got your name!” she exclaimed.

He continued to walk away. He never turned back to the woman, but once a good distance was put between the two, he threw his hand up and replied.

“Alistar.”

He pulled his hood up over his head and disappeared into the crowd. While moving through the crowd, the voice, that he had dignified with the name Griff, began to speak once more.

Why did you even take the chance? She could have figured out what you are!

Alistar started to pick up the pace of his walk after he inconspicuously squeezed between two men stumbling about drunkenly.

What would you have had me do, kill her? Nobody has seen a Villarian for a hundred years, for all anyone knows we are extinct. Your paranoia is going to get us both in trouble, he replied.

The voice didn’t respond, and the pouting silence made Alistar grin.

What, did I hurt your feelings? Stop being a baby, Griff. We have a mission to complete.

When Griff replied his tone was rough, letting Alistar know his sarcasm hit its mark.

You know, when I chose you as an attachment I didn’t think it would come with so many insults.

Alistar slipped into the ally to his right and checked to see if anyone was watching. A swirling black and purple void the size of his hand appeared in front of him, and when he reached in, his palm came into contact with the head of an enormous eagle.

You know I love you, Griff. Now let’s get this done so we can go home, he said as he rubbed the feathers back.

Alistar pulled his hand out of the void and it quickly dissipated.

You can’t just pet me and think this solves everything. Your carelessness could get us both killed, Griff grumbled.

You’re right, of course. Forgive me, my friend. I’m just eager for this to all be over, he said in effort to soothe Griff.

Alistar reached the bottom of the inner city wall. He scaled it with ease all the way to the top. Grabbing stone after stone, he pulled himself up but did not climb over the ledge.

Where are the guards? he asked Griff.

Two guards ten feet to the right, nobody else on this side.

Alistar reached into his pocket, grabbed the orange he bought at the market, and placed it on the ledge above him. He pressed his lips together and whistled.

Phsst!

When the soldiers turned to the high pitched sharp whistle, all they saw was an orange sitting on the ledge.

“You see that?” one of the soldiers asked as they walked toward it.

They were in brown gear, had swords at their hips, and silver shields in their hands.

The first soldier picked up the orange and asked, “Where do you think it came from?”

“Maybe someone tossed it from the ground,” the second replied.

Both the soldiers looked over the edge. In the blink of an eye, there was a flash of white clothing, their heads slammed down against the stone ledge and they were knocked unconscious.

Alistar landed behind them as they fell to the ground. He looked out over the inner city to see white marble buildings, nice, clean, walkways and people in silk robes wearing gold and diamond jewelry. The rancid smell was gone; it actually had a pleasant smell. It was so shockingly different from the path he had just taken: a whole new world. Alistar looked up at the sun. By its position, it was almost high noon.

I need to hurry; the meeting is set to start any minute, he thought.

He made his way through the town unseen, walking without a sound. He entered a building with two tall white pillars and made his way to the second story. Reaching a balcony above the King’s Hall, he crouched in a dark corner, watched a round steel table with three men talking and listened in; the big fat one, wearing blue and gold silk slammed his fist on the table.

“It’s just like a Concord to keep us waiting. He’s the one that called for this meeting in the first place! If he wants to stop the bloodshed so bad you’d think he’d show up on time!”

Right as he finished the sentence an old man in white robes down to the floor, with a bald wrinkly head and long gray beard walked in with a limp.

“Sorry I’m late, what do you say we skip the niceties and get down to the business at hand?”

The fat king, Alistar knew to be Augustus, began to speak with bread crumbs all over his robes, but a muscular man, who Alistar knew to be Erik, the King of Darnhall, interrupted him.

Erik had tattoos covering his arms and half of his long, dark red hair was pulled behind his head. A thick, red beard covered his face and a red wolf’s pelt rested on his shoulders.

“Welcome to my city, Alexander,” Erik said, referring to the man who arrived late. “If you insist we get right to it, then we shall. Why have you called this meeting?”

Alexander sat at the table, groaning as he lowered himself into the chair.       “I am sick of fighting over a conflict that was started by our ancestors. I won’t do it anymore; my body is growing old and my mind is tired. I want a treaty signed that will end the fighting,” he answered.

The king in green, known to be Lin Sau, King of Larendale, turned to Alexander and asked, “And what do we get out of this? It was your great grandfather that started this nearly a hundred years ago.”

Alexander let out a laugh that turned into a sickly cough and replied.

“You pieces of shite won’t get a single coin or concession from the Concord kingdom, but I will give the three of you my word that my men won’t go further south than Fort Canter.

The harsh weather of the north has turned my men into monsters, one of mine overpowers ten of yours. This is why the three of you agreed to this meeting in the first place.”

“You uncultured swine,” Lin Sau murmured before raising his voice. “My kingdom is a-”

“You will keep your fort populated at a fourth of its capacity and you have a deal,” Erik interrupted with an answer for Alexander.

Augustus groaned and said, “This isn’t fair. What do I get from this?”

Lin Sau stood up from his seat and exclaimed, “This is absurd!”

Erik drew his sword and yelled, “Quiet! My men are the ones fighting the Concord soldiers while you just send food and weapons from the south,” he said, pointing his sword at Augustus, “and the west,” he said, moving his sword quickly to Lin Sau. “You...