The Fall of Light - Chapter 3 - YA Action Fantasy Novel

The Crystal Companions Saga - Book 1
The Fall of Light​

The blackness of unconsciousness was starting to lift and the darkness gave way to lighter shades of grey and white swirls. The swirling patterns behind Alesson’s eyes reminded him of a powdery snowstorm or a think gloomy fog. Fog! He had been training in the misty training grounds when he had hit his head. Was he still there? The swirls of grey and white dissipated and Alesson fully opened his eyes to see that he was in his father’s chambers.

He tried to sit up in the grand four-poster bed, but as he did so, his head began to spin and he felt very sick, so he sank back down into the bed and lay very still to try to stop his head spinning. As soon as he started to move, a dull painful throbbing exploded on the left side of his head. Alesson raised his hand out of the soft ruffled bedcovers and inspected his head. He had a bandage round his head and as he touched it, he discovered it was very sore to touch. “Oww” he croaked, his throat was dry and he coughed, which set his head spinning again.

Alesson tried to concentrate on his surroundings in the room, in an attempt to forget about his pain. The bed he was on was huge; it could quite easily fit four people in it with room to spare. The bed covers were royal blue with a very busy flowery pattern all over that made Alesson’s head hurt even more, so he risked turning his head to the right to look towards the window. The curtains were closed and there was very little light coming through the gaps, which made Alesson think it was late. How long had he been there?

Slowly he managed to lever himself up into a sitting position against the ornate backboard of the bed. The spinning in Alesson’s head was slowing down and he found that he could move his head better. Other than the blow to his head, Alesson seemed to be ok, his right shoulder hurt a bit, but it was in no way as painful as his head.

He recalled the last few moments of the test, He’d got away from the spiders webbing only to run headlong into the heavy bag that was spinning on a short chain round the outside of the ring. Ironically, he wondered if that had counted as hitting the target and not the other way round. On the plus side, at least he wasn’t covered in the sticky webbing any more.

As Alesson thought about the webbing, a cold fear grabbed him, as he thought about Frostbite; he had left the wolf behind, covered in Aramack’s sticky strands to go after the target. Alesson formed the image in is mind of Frostbite covered in webbing and pushed the picture out towards his friend. At first, there was no reply and Alesson began to panic, then he heard it, Frostbite was howling. In his mind, Frostbite sent him a message that he was ok and down in the kennels in the royal courtyard. This image was quickly replaced with an enquiring image as to Alesson’s condition, to which he responded with a picture of himself holding his bandaged head but smiling to show he was feeling better.

“Ahh, so you’re awake?” said a deep voice; the door to his left had opened and in had come his father, King Trengar Scorch. The King was a shadow of his former self; all the paintings and statues of him around the castle depicted him as a strong man with well-kept short hair and a well-trimmed beard and his eyes were sharp and his smile broad. There was a time when the real life King seemed to be greater and more powerful than his depictions, but ever since the death of his wife some eight years ago, he had lost his vigour. Now his shoulders were always slumped, his hair and beard were unruly and he avoided the public as much as possible and spent most of his time moping in his study.

This did not mean that he did not have time for his children though, in fact quite the opposite; Trengar would spend as much time with the twins as possible. Sometimes however, his attention was stifling, it seemed like he thought they were all he had left of his wife and he needed every minute of their company to ease his pain.

Just recently, Alesson had been doing some research into fighting tactics after a particularly interesting lecture from Deltain and was reading a book on ancient battles that had been fought in far away places. Trengar had come in to the living quarters and asked him what he was reading, Alesson told his father about a section of the book that really fascinated him about hiding soldiers inside a giant wooden horse. Trengar had seemed impressed by his son’s knowledge and quizzed him on his learning, but eventually the conversation ran its course. The King seemed to find the following silence uncomfortable and proceeded to ask his son more irrelevant questions, in what appeared to be a lonely man’s attempt to get as much father-son time as possible. In the end, Alesson got fed up of his father’s constant chatter and escaped to his room to read his book in peace.

Trengar was definitely lonely, he constantly wore black or dark clothes to show he stilled mourned for his wife. The citizens of Scorvain were getting tired of having a depressed monarch and there were rumours that the citizens believed the King should get over it, re-marry and move on. However, it seemed that no matter how many young and attractive women were thrust at Trengar, he would always find a way to squirm out of the conversations. It was almost as if he wanted to be a widower forever, which was a great show of respect for Judentha, but not really the best thing to do for the state and its people.

“So, how are you feeling son?” Trengar said in a deep raspy voice.

“Dizzy,” Alesson croaked, “and thirsty.”

“You had quite a strong blow to the head, but the doctors think you’ll make a full recovery. Let me get you something to drink.” Trengar disappeared into the adjoining room, where Alesson could hear distant muffled voices and soon the King re-appeared with a large glass of water.

“Thanks,” Alesson said, taking the water and drinking deeply. The cool liquid slipped down his throat with ease and he felt a little better. “How long have I been…sleeping?”

“You’ve been out for about eight hours, it’s very early morning, and the sun will be coming up soon,” Trengar answered.

“And how’s Frostbite?” Alesson asked.

“He’s fine, still a bit sticky from all that webbing. I guess you can clean him up properly when you’re back on your feet. That would be a good way to say sorry for leaving him,” Trengar said sternly.

“But he showed me where the target was and encouraged me to go after it.” Alesson said.

“Frostbite is just like you, determined to win at all cost. As good a trait as that is, it also shows a lack of responsibility,” Trengar said, shaking his head. “Being responsible is something you will have to learn, these tests are not just games, and they are designed to teach you life skills.”

“Why is this starting to sound like a lecture?” Alesson asked, his father’s tone of voice was changing from concerned to irritable.

“Because I’ve been worried sick, no parent likes to see his child hurt or injured. So, to find out that this injury was caused because you made some silly choices show me that we need to have a serious talk,” Trengar said, scowling at his son.

“A serious talk?” Alesson said, feeling fire start to burn in his stomach. “I’ve been trying really hard to get stronger and make you proud.”

“You’re my son, Alesson,” Trengar said softly. “I will always be proud of you, but one day either you or your sister will inherit the throne and you need to learn how to lead and how to make good responsible decisions.”

“Fine!” Alesson said with resigned sigh and let his head droop. “What should I have done?”

“Firstly, never, ever leave your companion in danger. If that had been a real situation, if Frostbite had been trapped or injured and you just left him, you could have ended up being separated”

Alesson drew in a sharp breath and his head snapped up, making the room spin slightly. Separated was the term given to a person who had lost their companion. When someone became separated, they would become a mindless shell of woe and depression, their crystal companions were born from their souls and when they were gone, a person was never the same again.

As Alesson began to understand what he had done wrong, an icy fear crept into his mind, he’d thought of the test as just a game and gone off to get the target and left Frostbite to his fate.

“…And secondly.” Trengar continued. “You need to open up to your companion more, Garlent tells me that your combat skills are really good, but your co-ordination with Frostbite needs more work, you need to trust each other one hundred per cent to be effective.”

“Ok, I’ll try to do better, I promise.” Alesson said and silently he decided that he would never leave his companion in trouble again.

“Good” said Trengar. “Now there is just the matter of what your punishment should be.”

“Punishment?” Alesson’s blood began to boil again, he had admitted that he was wrong, he had made a promise to do better and still he was to be disciplined. Alesson almost started to wish that he had not woken up.

“Oh yes my son, you will remember this little debacle, and just to make sure you learn from it you will be punished to help motivate you to try harder.” King Trengar said with a cold grim look on his aging face.

“But that’s not fair father, I’ve learnt my lesson the hard way and I promised you that I would do better,” Alesson pleaded.

“I tend to agree with the boy, you majesty,” said a deep voice from the doorway. It was Commander Garlent, still dressed in his armour. Alesson thought the middle-aged man must sleep in his armour; he had never seen him without it.

“He has been through enough and more punishment, I think would be unjust.” The Commander said in a stern level voice. “However if you feel some extra duties be required, I suggest instead that the Prince, once he is back on his feet, go and spend some time with Frostbite, clean him up properly, apologise for his mistakes and then report to me, early each day for extra combat training.”

Silently Alesson thanked the Commander; his father’s idea of punishment would be to lock him in his room for several days, with nothing but books and scrolls for company. Garlent had given him a chance to continue his duties and work his combat skills harder; all that had to happen now was for his father to agree.

“Hmmm,” said Trengar, turning firstly to the Commander and then towards his son. “Perhaps that would be a fitting way to deal with this situation. Ok consider yourself punished with extra duties. You will attend extra, one to one combat training with Garlent every morning before your normal duties and in addition to that, once a month you will attend court with me to see more about the responsibilities of ruling the Kingdom.”

Alesson’s jaw dropped, he was getting to see his father working in the throne room, dealing with the day-to-day disputes of the people as well as extra combat training, this might possibly be the best punishment ever.

“Don’t start getting delusions of grandeur though, Linta, has been attending court with me for quite some time now,” Trengar said with a rueful grin. “She’s much more into diplomacy and coercion, but I think it would do you some good to learn some of those skills too.
”
Then Garlent stepped forward out of the doorway toward Alesson and said, “Don’t think our training sessions are going to be easy either, I’ll work you so hard that sometimes you’ll wish you had been punished properly.”

“Yessir” Alesson replied managing a rather feeble salute.

“Anyway, there’s someone else here to see you.” The Commander said, and in through the door bounded a rather dull grey and sticky Frostbite, who jumped up onto the bed and proceeded to lick Alesson’s face, repeatedly until Alesson was in fits of giggles and covered in wolf drool.

“I knew it was a bad idea to let him in here.” King Trengar remarked to Commander Garlent, looking at the giggling boy and the messy wolf, that were getting the royal blue bed covers covered in drool, wolf hair and left over bits of webbing.

“Ok, that’s enough Frostbite,” Alesson managed to say, tears of joy standing in his eyes. The young wolf lay down next to Alesson on the bed, sending him pictures of Alesson being carried off by some guards from the training grounds, then some more guards cutting the sticky wolf loose from the webbing, then a picture of a pair of maids trying to bathe Frostbite and him absolutely soaking them.

“I’m so sorry Frostbite.” Alesson said, looking at the wolf’s pale frosty blue eyes. “I shouldn’t have left you, winning is not as important as protecting you from harm.” The wolf tilted his head as if contemplating what Alesson was saying, dropped his head down onto his paws and wagged his tail. Alesson rubbed the wolf’s head and looked up at the King and the Commander who were both grinning.

“I guess just this once I’ll let Frostbite stay in here until morning,” the king said, looking disdainfully at the bed covers and passing Alesson a towel to dry himself. “But, know that the maids won’t be happy with the mess you two have made. Try and get some more rest, I want you back on your feet as soon as possible to start you new duties, I might even get Deltain to visit you a bit later so you and Linta can do you studies in here once this bedding has been changed.”

“Thanks Father,” Alesson replied, “and I will work hard to become more responsible, you can depend on me.”

“Good boy, I believe you, one day you’ll be a great king and make me the proudest father ever,” Trengar beamed.

Alesson settled down in the bed, Frostbite curled up next to him, and the pair tried to get some sleep.

King Trengar and Commander Garlent left the room, and closed the ornate door behind them. The pair headed towards the King’s study at the far end of the royal apartments. The King took out a small key to unlock the door to the study and the two men entered the room without a word.

The study was sparsely furnished, the walls were bare with a single window on the far wall and the only furniture in the room was a large wooden desk with a chair on either side. The desk was littered with scrolls, ancient books and maps.

“So where were we?” King Trengar said as he sat down at the desk.

“We were talking about the whereabouts of the traitor Inemi,” Garlent said. “So far we’ve had no reports or sightings of him since that incident in the highlands of Negadenta where we lost Lieutenant Sandos’ platoon without a trace some six months ago.”

“Damn, I need to find Inemi. I will not stop searching for him, until he is caught, gives me what I want, and is then given a long and lingering death.” Trengar said, punctuating the word death with a thud of his hand against the top of the desk.

“I’m sorry Your Majesty. The traitor seems to have completely disappeared. I’m beginning to think that maybe he’s left the northern continent or worse been killed by some of the wild beasts.”

“That is not acceptable, he was once a Commander like you, there is no way he could have been killed by the beasts,” said Trengar, his voice tinged with anger and his eyes ablaze.

“But my lord, he’s separated and completely insane, for all we know the pain and the depression might have been too much for him and he could have taken his own life,” Garlent said.

“Inemi would never do that, he blames me for everything, and he will not rest until he has his revenge.” Trengar’s head slumped forward sadly. “He’s already done that to my beloved Judentha and I will not rest or give up until there’s no other course of action.”

“I appreciate that Your Majesty, but for the good of the Kingdom we can’t keep this up forever.” Garlent said with heavy remorse.

“I know that Garlent, if only the children were older and wiser, I could abdicate in their favour and pursue Inemi myself. But they’re not ready yet, they need to grow up fast,” Trengar replied.

“Then maybe to help hurry them along we should tell them the truth about the situation?” Garlent asked.

“No, absolutely not” Trengar said, shocked at his friends words. “Only you, me, Deltain and the Crystal Guardians know the truth, and we will take this secret to our graves unless we can find Inemi and take what we need.”

“I still don’t think this is the most prudent course of action Your Majesty.” Garlent looked past the King and out the window where the sky was starting to lighten as it approached sunrise. “There are rumblings of dissent among the citizens, many fear there will be a rebellion soon, or maybe even something more serious to try and force you out of your supposed depression.”

“So not only are you suggesting that I tell the twins the truth, but that I tell everyone?” Trengar asked irritably.

“Well what would you do if you did find Inemi, how were you going to justify that you’d lied to everyone for the past eight years.” Garlent said.

“I’d think of something, maybe one day I’d just disappear, like this damned traitor.” The King said, stabbing his finger at a picture of Inemi on the desk in front of him. “Commander, I need you to keep searching for a little longer and no more talk of this divulging of the truth, do you understand me?”

“Yessir” Garlent replied, stood up, snapped off a smart salute and turned to leave the room.

“Garlent, I’m sorry, but it has to be this way.” The King said quietly.

“I know, but the truth always comes out in the end.” Garlent said and left the room.

As the door closed, the King picked up the picture of Inemi, stood up and turned to the window. He looked out over the city of Scorvain; the grey stone buildings were starting to lighten as the sky got brighter and many of the little houses had lights in the windows as the inhabitants woke up and began their daily routines. In the distance, Trengar could see on the horizon the craggy edge of the Thunder Plains, which had various strange and foreboding rock formations sticking out at random points along the flat tall grass plains.

What was he going to do? Eight years was a long time for a Kingdom to be in a state of mourning, and he could not keep this pretence up for much longer for fear of rebellion and fighting in the streets. Equally, could he tell everyone the truth and not anger his people and possibly even incite rioting.

Looking at the picture in his hand of the longhaired traitor, with the cold remorseless eye’s, the long pointed nose and the sharp high cheekbones, made the King feel sick with rage. Where are you Inemi?

Just then, the edge of the red sun popped up above the horizon and the world was bathed in red light. The sun was old and a dull red colour that could be looked upon easily without fear of hurting one’s eyes. The King had read stories about times long past when people dared not look at the sun without being temporarily blinded; he wondered what it would be like to live in a world where people feared to look up.

Trengar pushed the window open and sent an image of himself at the window out into the sky above. A few seconds later a shiny silver bird dropped from the sky and flew towards the window, Trengar lent out the window and held his arm out. The bird as it came closer became more distinct, it was like a kestrel but slightly larger and made of shiny steel. Its feathers were like layers of plate armour and its beak was razor sharp. The steel kestrel came close and landed on the King’s outstretched arm.

“Hello Stanza,” he said to his companion. “Show me what you’ve seen?”

Images flooded the King’s mind, of rolling hills, of fiery mountains and lush green jungles. Pictures of thick white clouds in the pale sky and last of all the appearance of the large red sun emerging from behind the horizon filled the Kings mind. The world looked so peaceful, yet the King and his Kingdom were in turmoil.

“Oh, Stanza, what are we going to do?”