1-What Funny Business Are You Up To
300 Years Since The End Of The Realms
Seconds before a deafening crack of thunder echoed, a flash of lightning crossed the darkened skies that frequent the isolated island. The ever-persistent clouds never gave much warning before unleashing their wrath, making this part of the sea barren of much life.
“Let’s get a drink before we ship off. We’re only halfway around the Turbulent Reef,” Merrick said.
Merrick fought the howling wind and lashed the mooring line to the dock, and Shaz scaled the plank. Shaz pulled his tunic tight around his neck, and they walked briskly toward The Screaming Siren Tavern. They trudged up the hill and shielded their eyes from the wind and dirt. The dark clouds opened and dumped the heavy rain and the soft dirt rapidly turned to mud. Merrick gripped the heavy latch and flung the door open, which smacked against the stone wall with a BANG.
A pitch-black jaguar prowled in behind the men like a shadow. No one noticed her until her bright yellow-orange eyes cautiously scanned the room. The black jaguar followed Shaz around a man that was half-slumped in a chair. The tavern was hardly quaint, but it was warm and designated as neutral territory and sailors, deckhands, and the occasional outlaw stopped here for a quick reprieve. Small wooden tables were strewn about the tavern in no particular order and large silver platters of meats and bread covered the tables. The pungent odor of alcohol mixed with sweat and tobacco filled the air. Each time the heavy wooden door swung open eddies of cold air wafted throughout the room. Half-burned candles in sconces let off as much feeble light as they could. Long wooden planks hung over large tables acting as crude chandeliers were covered in spent wax.
The massive ornately carved fireplace filled one full wall and the waning fire warmed the tavern with its simmering, crackling embers. The floor-length colorful skirts of the serving ladies brushed and swooshed as they busily moved from table to table helping hungry, thirsty and the occasional rude and grabby, customers.
“Quickly Shaz, before Yerild sails off without us,” Merrick grumbled.
Merrick pulled off his wet cloak and tucked it into the crook of his elbow. His broad width navigated the crowded room toward the bar.
“Do you think Captain Yerild is crazy enough to set sail in this storm?” Shaz asked.
“Yerild is a wild card. I wouldn’t put it past him, son,” Merrick said.
Shaz ran his fingers through his long pale blonde hair and pulled the soaking wet locks from his handsome face. He slipped off his cloak revealing a slender, but muscular build. Several patrons mumbled to each other, as he and Jagwynn worked their way through the smoke-filled room. Shaz was used to being gawked at. His whole life he’d been the only one, he’d ever seen with blonde hair.
“One laager, and one miote, please,” Merrick said.
Merrick slapped a copper on the counter. A sudden chill ran down Shaz’s back as the hairs stood out straight. Shaz scanned the tavern and found a dark hooded figure with large beady-gray eyes and a nose that resembled a beak sitting in a corner. Its hands appeared crippled, and its frame was bent almost in half. It was as if he was half-man and half-crow. Jagwynn arched her back as a low rumbling growl broke her lips. The bird creature withdrew into its hood and hissed at the jaguar. Shaz had gotten the chills before but this was different, and he wasn’t sure why. Shaz sidled up next to Merrick at the bar, and he saw a second hooded figure in the opposite corner of the room. The man sat up and stared in his direction. His hood covered most of his face which made Shaz uneasy.
The barkeeper set two tankers on the counter and Shaz took the fruity beverage and gulped it down. The second hooded man stood and began making his way toward them. He was tall and strong with an air of authority about him. The man pulled back his hood and opened his robe and put his hands on his hips. Bright colored cloth draped and encircled his stately frame, starting at his forehead and ended at the floor. His dark eyes were kind against his black skin and the colorful swaths around his head gave him a unique appearance.
“I would like to introduce myself,” he stated. He bowed to each of them, “My name is Ceros, I am a representative of the Sun Goddess. It is imperative that I talk with you both, at this moment, privately,” he indicated to his booth.
“Um…” Shaz said.
Shaz looked at his father, who held up his hand.
“Please Shazmpt, may we talk?” Ceros asked. Shaz raised his brow and sized the man, noting his curved sword and its size. “It is imperative that we talk at this instant. Merrick, I’m sure you appreciate the magnitude of this moment,” Ceros said.
“What is he talking about?” Shaz asked.
Merrick stared at the stranger. He knew Shaz was not a boy anymore and sighed.
“I guess Yerild’s going to have to wait after all,” Merrick said.
Ceros motioned for them to move to his table in the corner and then followed them. The hair on the back of Shaz’s neck stood out and a pit in his stomach formed. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but this was the second time since they came into the tavern. He turned to the corner of the room and the beaked figure was no longer there. A prickle sat at the back of his mind and he was sure the creature was still in the tavern. Shaz casually glanced around and found it skirting around a table of outlaws pretending to talk to them.
“Let me first tell you how pleased I am to finally meet you,” Ceros said. His lips half-bent into a well-groomed grin under a dark beard. Shaz’s mind circled back to the man sitting in front of him, “Obviously you’ve not been made aware of your unique situation,” Ceros said.
Ceros gave Merrick a ‘you’re-in-trouble-look’ and Merrick rolled his eyes.
“Mathieu has his reasons, and you are certainly not the one who makes the decisions around here. Neither is that ridiculous council you call yourself a part of,” Merrick said.
Merrick’s brows tightened and his jaw clenched. Shaz’s heart jumped and his blood quickened under his skin. Shaz tried to figure out what the connection between the two men was and his alert level soared. A rapid heat lit in the center of his chest under his sternum, a feeling he had never felt before.
“Not tell me what?” Shaz asked.
Ceros dismissed Merrick’s threat and smiled at Shaz.
“Shazmpt,”
“It’s just Shaz,” Shaz said.
“Shaz, you were born for a purpose and it is time you become the force you were meant to be,” Ceros said.
“That is what you believe, but I am going to let Shaz decide for himself what he becomes,” Merrick said.
“I don’t think it’s up to any of us Merrick,” Ceros said.
The heat in Shaz’s chest was growing and a bit of panic tingled his arms.
“What are you talking about,” Shaz asked.
“You possess special abilities that can assist the Dodjen in their fight against the rising evil in our land, and I have come to seek your help,” Ceros said.
“Why here? Why now? Aren’t you supposed to be corresponding with Mathieu?” Merrick asked.
“Mathieu had stopped his communication with the council, and we are in great need. If he is not going to honor his commitments, then we will take matters into our own hands,” Ceros said.
Shaz’s uneasiness crept into his throat and his mind raced around the details of what was happening.
“We are a secret society commissioned of the Sun Goddess. We’ve been around since the dawn of time. The scales have been tipping ever so slowly towards the darkness, since the rise of the wicked necromancer, Gavin Rhill. He leads a large and powerful army called the Velsharoon,” Ceros said.
“You have to be soooo dramatic,” Merrick said.
Merrick crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the dark-skinned man. Shaz found himself nodding and remembered the stories his Grandfather Mathieu told him. Ceros sat forward in his seat and gave Merrick a steely glare.
“You are a literal descendant of The Tooatha De Danann, an ancient people blessed with extraordinary gifts.”
“I know that, so what is it that you want,” Shaz said.
The creature was now standing a few feet away and Shaz wondered why Merrick and Ceros didn’t show concern. The pit in his stomach continued to grow, could they even see it, he wondered.
“Merrick isn’t your blood father. He raised you as his own, but Reinholt O’Connon is your blood father and you are the heir to his kingdom,” Ceros said.
The words hit Shaz with a heat of irritation and his nerves were about shot. Merrick’s heart sank and Shaz could somehow tell Ceros’s words had hit a soft spot.
“But I love you as my own son, Shaz, believe me,” Merrick said. He squeezed his son’s shoulder.
“I know father, I have always known,”
Shaz paused a moment listening to the heavy rain against the small window above him, his thoughts continued to race around, and he reached out with his mind to find the creepy figure. Ceros interpreted his hesitation for his pondering the truth of his heritage.
“I know this is a lot to take in, but I still need to tell you about the Sev-Rin-Ac-Lavah.”
“The secret artifacts that are powerful and everyone wants them, yeah I know,” Shaz said.
Shaz was starting to get annoyed at the blabber of the person and Merrick snickered, he wasn’t sure how long it was going to take before Shaz’s snarky sarcasm was going to show up and it just did.
“Yes, the Sev-Rin-Ac-Lavah, are four separate and ancient artifacts that hold tremendous powers. The legend says, when these four items are united, they evoke the powers of the universe,” Ceros’s eyes glossed over as though he were looking into the future. Merrick rolled his eyes and Ceros shook his head clear and said, “Gavin Rhill is obsessed with finding the Sev-Rin-Ac-Lavah. He desires to use its powers to become as the God’s.”
“So, that is what the legend says, and what’s it to me?” Shaz asked.
“Only a war wizard can do it. You, Shaz, are the war wizard and the only one that can join the Sev-Rin-Ac-Lavah together. But you mustn’t join the Sev-Rin-Ac-Lavah, you must destroy them, and Gavin Rhill,” Ceros’ words all but cracked under their own pressure.
Shaz endured a long silence. Merrick’s heartrate slowed and Ceros’s quickened. The figure was a few booths behind him, Jagwynn was gripping the floor with her claws and the pit in his stomach sank even lower.
“So, become a war wizard, kill a man with a funny name, and find and destroy legendary artifacts, got it,” Shaz said.
Merrick blurted a ga-fa and Ceros slammed his fist on the table.
“This is serious, Shaz. This is real. You’ll find out all too soon and you must be ready for it. But since you don’t think this important, I will give you this and be on my way,” Ceros said.
He pulled out a small blue stone.
“What’s this?” Shaz asked.
Ceros whispered to the stone, in a different language, and the stone glowed.
“This is your birthstone. It allows you to inherit the sword, a small part of the Sev-Rin-Ac-Lavah,” he handed it to Shaz.
As the stone touched Shaz’s skin, a loud crack erupted from the sky, shaking the tavern. Jagwynn scurried from under the table as Shaz and Merrick leaped to their feet and drew their swords in one fluid motion. They stood with their backs to each other’s and surveyed the room.
“What funny business are you up to?” Merrick growled.
Some of the patrons covered their heads while others hid under tables. The constant tingle on the back of Shaz’s neck was gone. Shaz scanned the tavern and the beaked figure was gone too.
“Ah, now he knows,” Ceros said.
“Who?” Shaz asked.
“Gavin Rhill,” Ceros said.
“What does he know?” Merrick asked.
“Better yet, how?” Shaz asked. The birdman? he thought.
“Now do you believe me?” Ceros asked.
Merrick glared and Shaz put his sword away.
“I assume Mathieu has the box and satchel entrusted him?” Ceros asked.
“Yes, I will tell him you came by,” Merrick said, “Come on let’s go.”
