“Memphis, what is happening?”
Stopping, Memphis looked at him, his eyes out of focus. He was listening in on another conversation. Memphis grabbed his arm and closed his eyes. Brokk felt a strong ringing fill his senses and then he was succumbed, Memphis projecting what he was hearing like their own private intercom.
“Are you threatening us?” Roque’s voice was low and dangerous.
A man laughed, cold and unyielding. “On the contrary. I have come today to warn you that your efforts will be pointless. What is left of the capital to accept your new title? My clan has seen Sarthaven, and it is full of creatures from your worst nightmares, breeding in the shadows and ripping every soul apart. Except Cesan and his company. We barely made it here safely. So, I have come today on our way back to the Risco Desert to tell the one thing I do know. He is preparing to march on you, Roque, with an army not seen before by men.”
Silence fell heavy, and Tadeas whispered, “I have to go back to the Isles. I didn’t come here to die.”
“You will leave us in our time of need?”
Tadeas seethed. “I have lost some of my best men on the efforts of this allegiance. How many more? Me? My son? What will become of the Isles then, with no one to rule it?”
Roque slammed his fist onto the table. “What will become of Kiero if you leave? Please, Tadeas.” The desperation made his voice crack.
Sighing, Tadeas gruffly asked, “What can we do against an impossible army? How do we beat it?”
The raider chuckled. “That is for you to figure out. Maybe it’s time to consult some of our own myths long forgotten by the likes of you. Maybe the only way to win this war is to consult magic.”
Tadeas laughed. “Magic? You’ve got to be kidding me?”
But Roque paused, and the raider implored, “The King of Kiero seems to know what I am talking about. But work swiftly. You might have days.”
Brokk almost threw up as Memphis severed the connection, and they were thrown back into the present. Memphis rubbed his temples, breathing deeply, and Brokk knew his friend was barely holding on to his control.
“Memphis, what is happening?” Brokk repeated.
Memphis followed his agitated movements as he whispered, “There are no desolates that survived. Brokk, my parents...” His voice broke, and he stopped, just as Memphis’s face crumpled.
He crossed the space in two strides, bringing his best friend into a tight hug. “I know. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He kept his voice soft, and Memphis completely broke down, the loss of their world crumpling down around them all. It would seem Cesan was making sure it would be a fight of might against might.
Minutes passed until they finally broke apart, and Memphis asked, “What can we do?”
Running a hand through his hair, Brokk weighed the situation. “Right now, I say we make it through the funeral. After that, we can start digging.”
“And if we don’t have enough time?”
Brokk looked his friend square in the eyes. “Then we fight for what we believe in. If that’s still the Academy, then we do what we can.”
A heavy silence settled in between them, and Memphis groaned. “I hate it when you’re right.”
“I know.” He smirked, clapping him on the back. “Now, come on. Don’t we have the same class next?”
Brokk turned and stalled, his gaze lingering on a worn black book. Dried blood stained the pages, and it looked like it had been shoved back into place.
“And what are you doing here?” He grabbed the book, the worn title staring back up at him, Myths of Kiero.
Intrigued, he flipped open the old pages, the book naturally falling open to a worn page, and as Brokk read, his eyes widened with every word. Looking up at Memphis, he whispered, “I think I found our first lead.”
Memphis walked over, peering over his shoulder. He soaked up every word, and when he was finished, he whispered, “Do you think it’s true?”
Brokk smiled wolfishly. “There is only one way to find out. Meet me in my room tonight at midnight.”
The corners of Memphis’s mouth turned down. “What about the lockdown?”
Brokk winked. “You truly think I haven’t discovered an alternate route by now? Just be there.”
Filing out, Brokk tucked away the old book with the rest of his things, adrenaline thrumming through his veins. They walked through the bustling hallway, toward an afternoon of listening to Professor Smet drone on about the history of Kiero and the trading routes developed over the years. Which to say was pertinent, seeing as their trading partners were the Shattered Isles.
Looking at Memphis, Brokk’s heart sank. He had never had a family to lose, except him and Emory. He had fantasized about what his parents would be like, look like, but they were never a physical thing he had.
Memphis’s skin was ashen, his bloodshot eyes squinting against the bustle of the Academy. Every step was too quick, every movement jerky. Brokk didn’t know what he could possibly say that would make this situation easier. So, he said nothing at all, as they navigated the hallway.
***
The ringing of the bell sounded, and Brokk scooped up his books. All hour, his mind had been at war, a constant battle of trying not to think too much of the losses that have torn open their country. If Cesan was openly killing and slaughtering desolates and anyone who refused to join his cause... Cold fury twisted in his gut.
Not to mention his upcoming plan to sneak out of the Academy when they had just managed to escape a battle a few days prior. Every turn, every waking moment, all he saw was bloodied bodies and monsters. Pain waited for him in his heart and mind.
Nodding to Memphis, the unspoken promise lingering between them, Brokk wouldn’t give himself a moment to think about the horrors they had all recently endured. His feet carried him out of
