“The past, sorrow.

  The future, anxiety.

  The present, whatever

  we choose it to be.”

  - Jordus Petorum,

  Philosopher of the

  second age.

  Chapter 15: A Walk Down Memory Lane

  After the meeting and memorial service, the events of the last few hours finally caught up to him. Lima was beyond exhausted. Physically, but more than that, emotionally. He still could not believe Koga was gone.

  Part of him wanted to sleep, but his mind would not let him. His conscience acted as though not staying awake to concern himself with his grieving people, the new arrivals, and the islands’ security was a sin. Going to his home outside of the city, he simply decided to sit on his favorite, handmade rocker, and think.

  Maria approached him. She had come by P.A.C. hurriedly. He could tell her urgency was not born of a need to inform, but to acquire. The need for answers had brought her here. Lima doubted he would have enough to satiate her desire.

  “Can’t sleep?” she inquired.

  “Not even going to try,” he resigned.

  “Mind if I sit?” she requested, pointing to the rocker beside him.

  “It’s a free island. At least for now.”

  Maria sat down in it, beginning to rock back and forth. She let out a sigh, as a small smile of satisfaction came to her face. Lima was glad someone was having a good time.

  “Don’t remember the last time I sat in one of these.”

  “It was my late wife’s. You reminded me of her, just then,” Lima spoke.

  “Oh... I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It brought back sweet memories. I could use a few of those right now.”

  Maria reached out, gently grabbing his weathered arm in a consoling way. She squeezed reassuringly. He turned to face her, his face not bothering to hide his pain.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Lima.”

  He weakly smiled at her, reaching over to squeeze her hand. His eyes were teary, but his voice remained strong. He tried not to cave to the sadness within.

  “We all lost someone today.”

  “How long did you know him for?” Maria asked.

  “Since he was a boy. Funny how that seems like yesterday, and yet also a lifetime ago,” Lima pondered.

  “What was he like then?”

  “Initially, pretty cheerful for a boy who was blind, deaf, and dumb. I don’t know how he learned it, but somehow, he was able to get around as good as you or me. Better in some ways, actually. Gar had picked him up from a Tiggerash who had been watching over him. Koga wanted to stay with him, but the Tiggerash would not have it due to some personal trouble he was in.”

  “Did Koga and Gar get along?”

  Lima chuckled.

  “Not at all. Gar thought Koga should be just like his father. What he failed to understand was that becoming Erik Kane was a process, not an insta-meal.”

  “So did he grow up with you here?” Maria asked.

  “For a little while. He was always eager to visit us should Gar need to stop by,” Lima replied.

  “What happened?”

  Lima sighed. He remembered the day all too well. He had the same feelings he did then as he did today.

  “If it’s too painful for you, you don’t have to-” Maria began, taking on a sympathetic tone.

  “No, no, I want to talk about it. It’s nice to get it off my chest after all these years.”

  Lima continued.

  “After about a year of knowing Koga, Gar came in to shore one day without him. I couldn’t believe it when he told me Koga had run off, and that he couldn’t find him anywhere. There had been... an accident.”

  “What kind of accident?”

  “The deadly kind. Gar’s second in command, Captain Spencer... had been shot.”

  “How? By whom?”

  “Gar was going to execute someone who’d infiltrated their ship. He’d killed a few of my brother’s men, and he wasn’t going to let that go unpunished. Koga was there, trying to stop it.”

  “Did he not approve of it?”

  “Of killing a kid? No.”

  “The person who had infiltrated the ship was a child?” Maria asked in amazement.

  “Yes. About the same age as Koga, I heard. He had strange powers, like the man we had encountered at Deathclock. Had the training to use them, too. In the heat of the moment, Koga reached out to stop Gar from shooting the boy, and...”

  “And the shot hit Captain Spencer,” Maria guessed.

  Lima nodded his head.

  “Koga never forgave himself for that. I didn’t see him for a long time. Nobody could find him. After years of tirelessly searching for him, we assumed the worst. After six years, he reappeared. He showed up on the island at the brink of death, tattered and bloody, wearing his father’s armor.”

  “And he’s been helping you all ever since?”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Yes,” Lima replied. “He never talked about it, and I never asked, but a lot must have happened during those years he was gone.”

  A pause ensued, as the two looked out onto the ocean waves. The moon reflected off the water gloriously, as they sat in somber silence. For a moment, his grieving heart found solace in the beautiful scene before him.

  “Lima... that man Pickett. He mentioned something about Koga’s importance in that meeting. Was he really the Prince of Kenza? Was he truly the heir to its throne?”

  Lima sighed, looking back off into the distance. He hesitated to answer, knowing elaboration would only end in more regret. Seeing there was little point in concealing the truth, then let out another small sigh.

  “I guess there’s no point in concealing it now, though it does little good to reflect on it. It’s true.”

  “He could’ve been king! He could’ve ended the war. Exposed the Triumvirate. He could have continued his father’s legacy of peace, and giving power to the people,” Maria realized.

  “Don’t you think we thought of that? We would’ve taken him straight to Vult if we could have,” Lima admitted.

  “What was stopping you?” Maria asked, confused. Lima sighed, slightly frustrated. Not with Maria, but with himself.

  “At the time, Dagon’s influence was too strong. His forces too rooted in the tapestry of Kenza’s inner workings. People weren’t discontented with him like they are now. If Koga, who had no experience with politics, was thrown into the role, then Dagon could have more easily dismissed him as being a puppet of Gar. A fraud. They could have assassinated him, just as they did with his family.”

  “Why would Gar’s affiliation have any relevance?”

  “Because Gar was denounced as a traitor following the Kane assassinations. Being 1st Tier General, and Erik’s right hand man, the blame was thrown on him. The claim was that Gar was attempting a coup, using Paradign’s aid. Untrue, but a good deal of the public believed it following ‘evidence’ that had been released by Dagon’s administration. Without Gar’s aid in getting him there, Koga would have been finished off before he could claim his right to the throne twice. With his aid, he would have been discredited as being Gar’s puppet.”

  “But why keep it a secret for all this time? From what I understand, Dagon no longer rules by popularity anymore, but by fear. Koga could have taken the role much easier as an adult,” she reasoned.

  “He... he felt unworthy. Unqualified. He wanted to let someone better rule. He made us all promise to keep his identity secretive, to an extent.”

  “Guilt over the accidental death of Captain Spencer?”

  “I think in part, yes. Spencer was his closest friend at the time, and he viewed him like a father figure. Knowing it was, in part, his own actions that brought about Spencer’s death, he couldn’t live with himself.”

  “The only...,” Lima continued, finding it hard to say what was on his mind. “...the only consolation I get from all this is that he’s no longer in pain. He’s no longer restless and alone. He’s with his family and lost friends now. The lost heir is finally at peace.”

  Maria began to tear up. Lima looked away so as not to do the same. The toll of recent events left him feeling so drained. He was dead. Gone forever, just like so many other good people he had known.

  “We can’t let his sacrifice go to waste,” Lima continued. “We can’t let your husband’s sacrifice go to waste, either. We’re alive because of them.”

  He turned to face her, a steely look of resolve now resting on his face. As in times past, as his old friend often did, he turned his pain into power. He would mourn, and then rise to meet the challenges ahead.

  “And it’ll be a cold day in Hades before we let those sacrifices be in vain.”

  *

  Dagon had longed for this day for sixteen years. With brisk determination, he glided towards the High Court’s main assembly room with triumphant aplomb. Three Vishi guards, dressed in sleek, silver and gray colored armor escorted him on both his right and left. With each step he took, his excitement grew. At long last, the day of judgment had come. This time, unlike so many times before, he would be doing the judging.

  Before entering through the final door to the courtroom, he turned to the Chief Guard on his right.

  “Are they assembled inside?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “All of them?”

  “All of them, sir,” the Chief guard responded, his voice sounding cold and metallic through his helmet.

  “Very good,” Dagon replied with a smile.

  Bursting through, he entered the court through the main door, followed by his elite guards. Surprised, all the representatives turned to stare at him. He basked in their concern.

  “My King, we weren’t expecting you. This is most irregular,” addressed Barrakus to the still approaching King. With an assured smile on his face, Dagon continued to approach.

  “The only irregularity in this room, Barrakus, is you... and your associates here, of course,” Dagon replied boisterously.

  “What the devil do you mean? What is this?!” Barrakus demanded, rising from his chair, along with some of the representatives.

  “I mean that your time is over, old man. The High Council’s time is over. This is the last hour you’ll draw breath, you moronic, overgrown, ignorant old parasite!” Dagon threatened, stopping just short of where Tulius stood not all that long ago. He grit his teeth as he smiled. It felt good to drop the charade he had adopted for all these years.

  “You can’t threaten us! We’re the High Council! We’re jointly equal to you in authority!”

  “Oh I can do more than threaten,” Dagon said, waving his hand to signal the Vishi.

  Upon Dagon’s action, Vishi emerged from the entrances used exclusively by the representatives. Their armor and helmets were new, as were their triangular, Heater style energy shields, which emanated a lavender light. The representatives turned to face the figures, fearing what was about to happen. Their guards drew their swords and activated them, each one glowing, lavender heralds of doom.

  “Are you serious? You can’t kill us, Dagon! It would mean nothing less than death for you. The military is under our combined control! Any action towards us would mean your immediate dethronement and execution!” Barrakus threatened, panicking.

  Dagon chuckled.

  “With my new army, nothing can stand in my way. The old order has failed. You have failed. Only now do you see it.”

  Dagon fixed his gaze up and to his right as he remembered events of the past. He looked to where King Kane used to stand so many years ago. He reckoned this betrayal to be sweeter than the last.

  “This isn’t the first time I’ve killed to increase my power, you know...” implying his involvements.

  One of the representatives in the crowd pieced together what Dagon was referring to. It took them long enough. Their realization came too late.

  “It was you! You killed King Kane!”

  Dagon chuckled again, pleased with himself.

  “Yes, the rumors were true. All this time, the truth was there right under your noses. You were too stupid and greedy to see it. Like gluttonous pigs, I fed you. Now is the day of slaughter,” Dagon admitted. He twisted his head, cracking his neck as he released a satisfying sigh. “It feels so good to get that off my chest. The dead make such wonderful confidants.”

  The time had come. Waving his hand once more, Dagon’s troops descended onto their prey like vultures. The Council Guards fought bravely to defend the representatives, but were overpowered by superior numbers. The representatives, panicking, began to try and run towards the exits. It was to no avail.

  Some ran towards their own exits, only to be cut down. A few began to beg for mercy, offering their attackers monetary gain in exchange for their lives. Others, growing increasingly desperate, jumped from their lofty perches onto the ground below. Dagon could not help but laugh as they plummeted down to his level, breaking their limbs in the process. Quickly, the Vishi guards present eliminated them.

  After a few minutes, the screaming finally ended. Pleased, Dagon turned around and walked away, ready to act on the next stage of the plan. His presence here had not been required, but he would not have had it any other way. Their fear had been too delectable. Who would have not wanted a taste?

  *

  Since Thanator had left, Tulius had been flooded with resources. His chief researcher was nearly hours away from completing project J?rmungandr. Additionally, with the Remembraxine working its magic, he now knew the location of the enemy base of operations. It was time to strike back.

  As his small fleet flew across the sky towards Rosari, he had received the news of the High Council’s demise. ‘Evidence’ was all over the news regarding the High Council’s true plans. King Dagon had made a public announcement declaring the High Council’s treasonous intentions, along with its corroboration with military elites of the same purpose. This of course included its current commander, Rexl Dresh, who had replaced Tulius after his removal from office. It felt good to hear such news, especially concerning Dresh’s denouncement. The plan was finally taking motion again, and the Triumvirate would, at long last, finally be able to work outside of the shadows.

  The bulk of the Kenzanite military, since the beginning of the war, had consisted of loyal Kenzanites. As the war dragged on, such patriots were either eliminated or demoted. The Kenzanite military, though stronger than Paraidignian’s, was weaker than ever before. Now that the Triumvirate had its own military established on Inkh, one far larger than both Kenza’s and Paradign’s, it was time to take both nations by force.

  Martzia approached him as he adjusted some holo-files on the bridge. Deck officers and technicians rushed to and fro about him, completing various tasks to keep his flagship running. Like his plans, like the running of his ship, order reigned.

  “How far out are we, Commander?” she inquired.

  “Less than thirty minutes,” he replied, his tone one of reserved excitement.

  “I have some good news. It concerns our next assignment.”

  “Excellent. Continue.”

  “Now that Rexl Dresh has been removed from your old position, you will be reinstated. You will lead the final Kenzanite forces in attempting to take the Paradignian Capital.”

  Tulius smirked.

  “And by doing so, wipe the rest of them away. The old guard, gone at last.”

  “Precisely,” she stated. “Once we clean up on Rosari, we head to Paradign.”

  “I’ve heard that the Kenzanite troops have been...uncooperative. Will I be supplied with any troops of my own?”

  “300,000 loyal Vishi, my lord. All faithful to the cause.”

  Tulius smiled, taking his monocle from his eye and cleaning it with a handkerchief. Pleased, he brought up Rosari’s island topography. Noticing its layout, he continued laying out his future plans.

  “Excellent. We’ll keep them in reserve. They’ll sweep up the remains of whoever, or whatever, is left from the battle for Deus.”

  He turned to the chief ship operators, and began to walk in their direction. Martzia followed closely behind. He was glad she had finally been brought to heel. Somewhat, anyway.

  “Captain, report.”

  “We’re ahead of schedule, Commander. Only twenty minutes until we arrive,” the pilot replied, his Sashyrian accent evident.

  “Martzia, ready the troops. We’ll drop the Sashyrian riders first,” Tulius commanded.

  “Yes sir,” she replied. Curtly, she bowed before turning away. Tulius caught her arm.

  “Remember Martzia, no survivors. No playing with your prey. Finish them quickly. Show no mercy.”

  Tulius squeezed his grip.

  “Fail me, or disobey me, and you’ll find out just how easily I can ruin you,” he warned.

  “The Vishi Elite live to serve... commander,” she replied, before moving away to finish her task. Tulius turned back around, facing a series of monitors. He smiled, satisfied that Martzia continued to keep herself removed from her once lofty composure.

  “Captain,” Tulius spoke.

  “Yes, commander?”

  “Fetch me a wipe.”

  “...sir?”

  “My hand is now dirty. Fetch me a wipe,” Tulius demanded coldly, now looking towards the bridge windows, hand extended.

  “Yes… right away sir,” the Captain replied, confused by the directive, yet compliant.