T. Grey: The Fallen King

“Yeah, I’d say that’s right judging from the size of the body, the facial features, and her teeth. Definitely a teen. I’ll know more once we get her back to the lab.”

Mike stood, pulled out his notebook, and scribbled down some notes. “Anything else for us?”

Abbigail looked back down the path. “Definitely got stabbed at least the first few times at the beginning of the alley. Blood drops lead us back here to the body. He dragged her here and she lost her shoe in the struggle. She fought back, maybe even got away from him for a few seconds when he started slashing at her giving her the wounds on her hands. Eventually he got her turned around and slit her throat for the final killing blow.”

“All right, we’ll have the body sent down for processing. Let me know if you get anything else,” said Mike.

“Will do.” Abbigail walked down the path then removed her bloodied booties and gloves, handing them over to another crime scene investigator who held open a trash bag.

“Any luck?” he asked.

Abbigail shrugged. It was too soon to say.

She headed to her car and saw that it wasn’t even ten in the morning yet. Time to head home and try to get a quick nap before they got the body down to the lab. She let out a jaw-cracking yawn then took off for home.

Alrik lifted his knee high to his chest then slammed it down. His heavy boot caught the demon’s chin smashing its bony skull into the ground with a fleshy crack. The idummi squealed a heinous, ear-piercing sound before Alrik let his boot connect with the demon’s face again, ending the squeal.

Dragging in a heavy breath, Alrik turned to the temple and surveyed the grounds. The seer’s home was a decrepit stone structure with two rock pillars in front acting as an archway to an empty, dark doorway set behind them. The home, if one could call it that, looked like a small rock hovel. The outside of the house was formed from hundreds of jagged rocks that varied in size and color. With the full light of day on it you could see chalky white areas and shiny black ones that glinted in the hazy sky’s pink glow.

The one-story abode had no door but did have a dirty brown curtain that billowed in the breeze. Alrik checked his surroundings once more then ducked inside the temple.

His lip curled. The one-story temple was anything but what he expected. Magic reeked in the place; it saturated the air like fog. The rocky structure was a hoax, a glamour created by the seer. Inside, the room traveled back for some distance, something not possible when judging from the outside of the temple. The floor and walls were made of flat, sanded-down stone, and torches burned brightly to chase back the shadows. The scent of burning wood and smoke hit his nostrils.

Alrik gripped his bloodied sword as he made his way down the long hall at the back of the room. The tunnel went on for some distance with no end in sight. No light lit the way and no light could be seen at the end of the tunnel. He hated these games but it looked like he’d have to play them. He did not come this far to not get the answers he sought.

Stepping lightly he made his way down the blackened tunnel. He kept his ears alert, all of his senses ready. He didn’t make it far when a voice spoke and sounded as if came from all around him.

It sounded chipper as if it was laughing. “Found me at last have you, fallen king? Took you long enough.”

Alrik’s lips peeled back. To the darkened tunnel, he demanded, “Stop playing games with me seer. You’ll speak to me—”

“Or else what, fallen king? You’ll kill me too? As you did to that demon outside?”

“He was rummaging around your temple. I saved you from him.”

The voice came back heavy with sarcasm. “Hardly necessary. No one gets in here unless I want them to.”

Alrik’s neck muscles flexed as he clenched his shoulders, but he didn’t roll his head to ease it. “Then speak to me, old man.”

The voice, that of an old man scratchy with age and hoarse, laughed again. The jolly sound only fueled Alrik’s anger.

“The fallen king is desperate, his heart filled with anger. I’ll tell you now that isn’t the answer.”

Alrik stopped walking down the endless tunnel with no light in sight and spun his head around trying to track the seer’s voice. “I haven’t even asked a question yet, seer.”

“Ah, but I know what you want to ask.”

“Then give me the answer!” Alrik shouted, his voice bouncing off the tunnel walls and echoing down the long corridor until he was surrounded by the shout. After many seconds, the echo faded leaving him in heavy silence.

He heard a long sigh which sounded laden with disappointment. “Very well,” the voice said.

The walls around him shimmered and bubbled as if looking through the clear water of a waterfall as it fell to Earth. The dark walls became bright as if it was suddenly illuminated. Alrik turned and saw the black tunnel wall dissipate completely to reveal a large room complete with a large burning fireplace, a long wooden table covered in silver plates and golden goblets, and large iron rods around the room that held thick waxy candles that flickered orange light.

In front of the fireplace sat an old man sitting on a deep orange rug woven with magical symbols and Demonish words. Alrik stepped into the room. The old seer sat with his ankles crossed and knees pointing out. His long dark hair was pulled high atop his head in a curl and he wore a blue and red robe that shimmered in the firelight.

Alrik started for the seer.

The seer lifted his head from the floor and his eyes met Alrik. Alrik froze at the sight of those eyes, and he’d never seen anything like it. Black eyes with a brilliant blue center. He’d seen many demons in his life of varying colored skin, hair, and eyes, but never anything like this. However, the rest of the seer looked very human. Dark brown skin, dark hair, but those eyes were something different.

“So you’ve found me, fallen king Alrik.”

“Not easily.” Much blood had been shed, and even more time spent trying to find the seer. It had better be worth all the trouble. He was his last hope, and the only one capable of helping him on his quest.

“Nothing worth doing is ever easy.”

“Spare me the proverbial talk, seer.”

The seer looked up towards the ceiling, his expression dreamy with thought. “I must correct myself. Nothing important worth doing is ever easy. Seeing as how much you need me and my guidance and how important that will change things for you, I’d say it’s going to be very important for you.”

“Enough of the bullshit, seer. You know what I’m here to ask.”

The seer looked at Alrik and smiled, his white teeth dazzling against his dark skin. “Shall you ask anyway? People like that. They don’t enjoy knowing that I already know what they’re going to say. I believe it makes them feel more comfortable.”

“Where is my mother?”

The seer jumped up to a stand, surprising Alrik with his agility. The man sounded as if speaking was a chore yet he hopped up with the spring of a child.

The seer was guessed to be older than the kingdom of Harumina itself and yet he looked no older than Alrik did. Surely, he was a shahoulin demon like Alrik, because they aged much slower than some species of earth.

Still smiling, the seer walked to a cupboard hanging on the stone wall and grabbed something off the shelf. With a few more movements, the seer walked to the candle standing in the corner of the room, and with a smoke pressed between his lips he breathed deeply as the candle sparked. The smoke’s end lit brightly as he inhaled.

“Smoke?” the seer asked without glancing at him.