Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign

CHAPTER 9

The Unicorn Prince's Horn

GEORGE LEFT LETHWITCH ON on foot. On his way out of town, he passed a group of men who were talking about the robbery of the Old Mercantile the night before. He smirked. That was a nice piece of handiwork. This town is full of chumps. They never saw me coming.

For the rest of that Peak and through the night, George moved at a slow jog or a fast walk, rekindling his torch with many strips of tattered cloth. He knew he had to hurry and only stopped to eat or pee on a tree. He thought about the lovely Athena, wondering if his little Abbie would approve. He had never allowed a woman near his daughter, but his heart said Athena could be the first. He wondered how long it would take to get back to his little girl. Abbie, I can’t wait for you to meet her. I know you’ll like her. Athena is special, he thought, his heart beaming. Daddy will be home soon.

There was no shortage of trees along the route. He had followed the Cripple River north and would continue until he reached the river’s source—the Pool of Sorrow. To the west of the river, the Enchanted Forest covered a sizable area, and at various points, the tree line paralleled the river’s edge. During the day, the forest looked foreboding, and light struggled to find its way through the twisted branches. He had no desire to go near it.

George was beginning to feel exhausted due to the pace of his trek. The weight of his pack hampered his mobility, and if it had not been for his determination and fear of the forest, he would have been forced to stop long ago.

He heard many strange noises coming from the forest throughout the night. The screams of frightened animals, and the responses from more aggressive predators filled the air. The adrenaline produced by his fear was what kept him moving.

When morning arrived, the noises stopped. This was his chance to get some rest. He looked at his watch. He had been moving at a steady pace for almost 16 hours, and his body was shutting down. He lowered to the ground, rubbed his cramping muscles, grabbed a quick snack from his pack, and then laid his head on his stolen backpack for a nap.

He set the alarm on his Rolex for eight hours and looked over the map Jason had given him. Some of the townsfolk said the journey was a solid two-day walk if he stopped to rest at night. He smiled. He had been pressing hard almost the entire time. He was now within a few hours of the pool and would arrive before dark. He could only hope the Pool of Sorrow would be far less frightening than the foreboding forest.

George adjusted the backpack under his head and used his old, Gucci shirt to cover himself. As he fell asleep, he listened to the sounds of the cascading river and thought about his adventure. He dreamed of Athena and his baby girl as they spent their moments together. It was a lovely vision. Abbie flew back and forth as they pushed her on her favorite swing.

Angels Village

Sam and Shalee’s Room

When Sam woke, Shalee was sitting next to him on the bed rubbing his back. He rolled over, stretched and then sat up with a big smile. Shalee’s beauty was stunning, and for the moment, all he thought about was her. The fighter, teacher, doctor, genius, and wannabe lover, brushed his hand across her face. “Hello.”

Mosley had been sitting at the base of the bed waiting for Sam to wake. When the wolf saw him stir, he jumped up and plopped down across his legs. Both humans smiled, and the mood in the room felt lighthearted and peaceful.

“Thanks for watching over me, you guys. You look beautiful, Shalee. Do you like your outfit?”

Shalee grinned and then pulled the cloth away from her waist. “It’s kind of cute. I need to take it in a notch or two and add a dash of me to it, but I should be able to salvage this world’s attempt at acceptable fashion. I do like the…” She paused and looked at the wolf. “Mosley, what did you call this headpiece again?”

“It’s called a gashal.”

“Yes, a gashal.” She looked back at Sam. “I like the way it lays on my head. The little gems are fab.”

Sam chuckled. “You were given a beautiful dress, and all I received was a leather outfit. How fair was that?”

“But you pull it off nicely,” Shalee complimented.

“I suppose,” Sam shrugged.

Mosley broke into the conversation. “I was wondering when you would wake. I was starting to worry that Bassorine’s command to sleep was too much. We haven’t left this den except to eat. You slept like a bear through all of yesterday and the night.”

At that, Sam rose from the bed. The sound of Bassorine’s name brought back everything the god had told him. He stood at the window and thought as he looked out at the world of Luvelles which hung above the horizon.

After a fair series of moments, Shalee spoke up. “You’ve gotten awfully quiet on us.”

Sam did not respond. Instead, he reviewed everything he heard the morning before. Accessing his photographic memory, he mentally listed each point of his conversation with Bassorine.

Sam remained motionless for quite a while before Shalee walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay, Sam?”

Realizing he was being rude, he responded, “I’m sorry. Something is bothering me. I feel as if I’m missing something important. I can’t put my finger on it, but I know it involves Bassorine.”

Shalee caressed his back. “I’m sure you’ll think of it. It’ll come to you. Just relax. You can always ask Bassorine about it later.”

Sam turned to face Shalee. “I’m sure you’re right.” He pulled her close and, for the first moment since their arrival, he made an advance. If she was to be his mate, why not get started? “I think you’re stunning.”

Shalee was shocked by the compliment, but could not keep from smiling. The only thing she could think to do was give him a hug and a soft pat on the back. “Why, thank you, Sam.”

“You pat?” Sam admonished. “My friends pat when they hug me. I pat when I hug my buddies. I pat my grandma. Let me show you how to hug someone you’re interested in.”

With that, he grabbed her arms and pulled her close. He held her for a long series of moments that seemed short lived and enjoyed the fact she did not pull away. “Now that’s how you hug someone you find attractive,” Sam instructed, releasing her.

Shalee grinned and scanned Sam’s body from head to toe. “Well now … who said I find you attractive?” she responded in her thickest accent. She turned, grabbed her staff, and then left the room, smiling as she exited.

“Ow! That had to sting,” Mosley chided as he looked at Sam. “You might want to see if you have any fur left on your haunches. She took a bite out of them.”

As Sam stared at the door, Mosley continued. “I must admit, it was a nice effort. If I was human, I would’ve tried that myself. I saw a different side of Shalee while you slept. She cried a lot, understandably, considering what she has lost. She misses her family and a special girl cub named Chanice. She spoke of a den that she built on your world and how it suited her taste more than this establishment.

“She understands humor, something I’m thankful for, considering the fit she threw on the griffin’s platform. We laughed about many things. I think she finds the idea of marking my territory and our swine having three nostrils entertaining.”

Sam was still mulling over his rejection and failed to hear the wolf’s attempt at humor. “That backfired,” he muttered. “I could’ve sworn that would’ve worked. I must not be her type.”

“Don’t be so quick to judge, Sam.”

“Why?”

“Because my wife rejected me on nine occasions before she kept this old night terror wolf. She kept gnawing at my fur, telling me I was not clean enough. I never did understand why she liked to bathe so much. It’s not wolf-like.”

“Okay, okay. Hold on a moment. You have a wife? Since when do wolves get married? Do all animals get hitched on this world?”

“Not normally. Perhaps I should clarify. My wife died many seasons ago … 100, to be exact. When she did, I was lost. It took many seasons to stop feeling the pain her death caused my heart.

“ I met her on the bridge at Angels Crossing. She was traveling with a group while guiding them to the city of Champions. On that day, I happened to be heading in their direction with a cure for a disease spreading throughout the caves of the Bear Clan.

“Her name was Luvera, and she was, by my kind’s standards, a perfect creature. Her coat, eyes, fangs, body, and tail … oh, that tail was exceptional in any wolf’s eyes. I would give anything to have her back. I miss the warmth we created in our secret den.”

“She sounds amazing, Mosley. What else can you tell me about her?”

The wolf smiled. “Luvera lived in service to a god known as Keylom, and she was blessed because of it. We had many things in common. We spoke every language of both man and beast. On that first meeting, we talked for 4 Peaks before we had to go our separate ways. I was destined to be with her. I wanted her to have my cubs. Bassorine was the one who made our union possible.”

Mosley held his head high as he spoke. “Bassorine found ways for us to be with each other. We traveled together doing the work of the deities we served. After three seasons, we asked if we could adopt the tradition of marriage common to the humans of this world and make it our own. As I’ve said, I asked her on nine occasions before she said yes, but I had to agree to bathe on every third Peak before she would say her vows. It was awful, but a price worth paying to be near her. I was with Luvera for more than 300 seasons before she passed. I cherished her with all my being, and I can still remember our last hunt.”

Sam stood in amazement. “300 seasons! That’s a long time. I mean, that’s a lot of seasons. Where I’m from, men would’ve considered that Hell. Being attached to someone for so long must require a lot of patience. I imagine it would be wonderful to find someone you love so completely that you would be willing to spend an eternity together. I hope I can find such a love someday.”

Sam grabbed a chair from the table and took a seat. “So ... this Keylom is the god your wife served. How did she die?”

Mosley’s head drooped. His green eyes swelled as his ears fell. He wept for a considerable amount of moments before he was able to gather his thoughts. “I’ve never spoken of this to anyone other than Bassorine.” A tear fell to the floor. “I tell you now only because I feel comfortable with you, but I don’t wish to dwell on it once spoken. Luvera did serve Keylom, and she served with loyalty. He’s a giving god, worthy of her service, but it was her dedication to him that ended her life.”

“Really? How?”

Tears blurred Mosley’s vision as he continued. “A demon-jaguar named Kepler ended her. He’s known as the lord of all the giant cats on Southern Grayham. Kepler uses fear to rule his feline subjects, no matter what god they serve. He preys on the weak, and he has the ability to control the spirits of dead men, making them serve his will. He can also move within the shadows, even the smallest of shadows, without detection. It is for these reasons, along with his size, that he dominates the world of cats and rules their territories.”

Sam swallowed. “He sounds like the perfect nightmare. Even sitting here I worry about crossing his path.”

The wolf scratched at his neck. “Kepler is an undead creature. He lives in a place called Skeleton Pass, which he has ruled for as long as I can remember. He has an army of skeleton warriors that patrol his territory, killing every being who trespasses.”

Sam held up his hand. “Okay, okay. Hold on a moment. You’re telling me that he’s undead?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, right. Anyway ... how did Kepler kill your wife, and why?”

“I don’t believe Kepler had a reason to kill her. She was simply in the way and suffered because of it. My wife was delivering a message to the Unicorn Prince, Ultonen, who lived within the Dark Forest. I would’ve gone with her, but I was detained. Bassorine had a task that required my attention.

“Before I tell you how she passed, let me tell you this. The horn of a unicorn has marvelous properties, even if separated from the rest of the creature. The horn can be used to aid anyone who possesses it. Aside from the healing power to cure most any ailment, all poisonous plants or animals burst and die in the presence of the horn. When held near anything poisonous, the horn sweats, giving a warning of danger to the holder. The horn of the prince was especially powerful. This was Kepler’s objective.”

“Really?” Sam interrupted, again. “Sounds unreal, but for argument’s sake, why would Kepler want the horn? Can poison harm an undead creature?”

“I assure you this is real, and no, Kepler cannot be harmed by poison. He was hired by the Barbarian King in the city of Bloodvain to hunt the Unicorn Prince. Kepler was told if he retrieved the horn, the king would stop sending his legions through Skeleton Pass when invading the Kingdom of Brandor.”

The wolf began pacing, becoming more agitated as he continued his story. “Luvera was standing in front of the prince, delivering Keylom’s message, when the attack occurred. The Unicorn Prince was bowing in appreciation when Kepler made his move from the shadows. He rushed from the darkness and knocked my wife onto Ultonen’s horn, impaling her through the heart. I was told she passed instantly, and her eyes closed forever before she hit the ground. She was unable to manage even the smallest howl or yelp.”

“That’s terrible!” Sam exclaimed. “I’m sorry for your pain. Is there anything I can do?”

Mosley looked at Sam and forced a smile. “It has been 100 seasons, and as I have said, there’s nothing that can be done. Her soul is in a good place. I’m sure Keylom saw to that.”

Sam knew exactly where Luvera’s soul was, or at least where it was said to be. It was within the pages of the Book of Immortality, supposedly waiting for her chance to be reborn—but he said nothing to Mosley. It was clear the wolf did not know where souls were kept after they perished.

Sam’s mind began churning. “The Barbarian King must have had a reason to go after the horn ... something more than detecting poison. Any of his subjects could have tested his food.”

“The murder of the prince served three purposes,” Mosley replied. “He wanted the horn for its healing properties, and further, he wanted to show the unicorns they were vulnerable. They would learn that even with their magic, they could not stop him from killing their prince. The murder sent a clear message that the Barbarian King was to be feared. He intended for all unicorns to serve him … and to this day, the unicorns remain loyal to the king’s house.”

Mosley paused. He stared at his tail as he dealt with the pain the retelling of the story caused. After a moment, he curled up and gnawed at its tip, speaking between snips. “I can understand the king’s desire to rule. I was the leader of my own pack for many seasons and commanded three territories, so his desire to dominate is not foreign to me.”

“Okay, okay. I can also understand the king’s mind. Many men want absolute power.”

“Yes, but there is more to tell,” Mosley inserted. “I haven’t spoken of the effect the horn had on the king ... an unexpected effect. The barbarian desired the horn for its healing properties, as you know. But it wasn’t until much later that he realized he was receiving the benefit of an extended life.”

“That’s medically impossible,” Sam scoffed.

Mosley lifted his hind leg and scratched at his neck again. “Sam, your dull eyes are still focusing on the truths of your old homeworld. The packs here know a different truth. You must remember to open your mind. Many beasts living on the worlds governed by the Crystal Moon are magical. That said, the Barbarian King’s life was extended because of a magical benefit ... not a medical one.”

Sam struggled to wrap his mind around the thought. “How can this be true?”

“I speak fact, Sam. Do you doubt my sincerity?”

“No,” Sam rebutted. “It’s not that I doubt you.” He put his hands on top of his head and pulled his hair. “Okay, okay. Let’s just say, for argument’s sake, that everything you’ve said is true. If the Barbarian King had known about this benefit, he would’ve gone after the horn for that reason alone. How long will he live?”

Mosley paused long enough to sneeze. “The barbarians are an aggressive race. They fight amongst themselves for amusement and sport. When the king fought and was injured, he would use the horn. Once the barbarian understood the healings were making him stronger and younger, he intentionally hurt himself. He often retired to his chambers to secretly invoke the power of the horn. It’s not widely known how often he used it. In fact, only the gods and the king’s closest advisors knew the truth.”

“No way! Okay, okay. How on Earth...?” Sam paused. “I mean ... how on Grayham could a secret this big be kept from the world? The man is outliving his subjects. Don’t any of his advisors desire this benefit for themselves?”

“Of course they did, but the Barbarian King was influential, and he ruled through fear. He was careful not to allow the world to know. To ease his subjects’ minds, the king told them he had found a spring, and its water granted long life. He also told them the spring dried up when he revisited to collect more for his grandcubs. I would not know this if it was not for Bassorine. Bassorine watched from Heaven as the king used the horn again and again. I was told the gods were displeased, but they don’t take away the free will of man or beast.”

Sam felt pity for Mosley, thinking, He doesn’t know there’s not a Heaven. He sighed. “This free will crap can cause problems. What’s this Barbarian King’s name anyway?”

Mosley growled “Sam, have you not been listening? I have been speaking about the past. You must pay attention. The king’s name was Bude Bloodvain. He recently passed. It seems the benefit of the horn does not stop the aging process completely. His great-great-great-grandcub, Senchae Bloodvain, has taken the throne.

“Bude passed the secret of the horn’s benefit to Senchae before he perished. The only thing worse than the new king’s use of the horn, is that Senchae has been the Barbarian Champion for the last 15 seasons. He’s the strongest and best warrior the Barbarian Kingdom has ever seen. The barbarians fight to the death when entering their arenas. The fact that Senchae Bloodvain is still alive should give you an idea of what kind of warrior he is to survive in such a hostile den.”

Sam walked across the room and looked out the window. A group of small children were taking turns at tossing a small wooden hoop, attached to a string, in an arching motion. It was their goal to throw the hoop onto a metal spike that protruded from a wooden post. It was a simple game, and the joy on their faces warmed his heart.

Sam turned away from the window to find Mosley sniffing the hearth of the fireplace. “This Senchae guy sounds intense. He’s someone I can relate to. I love to fight. I just won my first fight before I—”

Mosley did not let Sam finish. “I wouldn’t get excited about challenging this man’s ability. Allow me to explain how the barbarians fight in their arenas. They are a vain race, vain to the point of stupidity. All barbarian kings throughout history have kept an open invitation with the humans of Grayham to fight their champion in the king’s arena in hand-to-hand combat. Any human who can beat the barbarian champion, without weapons, wearing only a cloth to cover his loins, will be rewarded with a chance to fight the king for his crown. If he defeats the king, all barbarians will bow and live in service to that human. Many have attempted, for the power they would wield would be immense, but they have all failed and perished. The current barbarian champion, since Senchae Bloodvain’s ascension to the throne, is Churnach Fergus. In order to fight the kingdom’s best, who is undoubtedly Senchae, you would first need to kill Fergus.

“Bloodvain is a nightmare. His sheer size intimidates any being. He would tower over you, and his physique is far more defined than yours, Sam. He’s well-known within the kingdom for his ability to fight for long periods without tiring. The king trains with angered bulls to keep in shape. He strikes the bull, causing the beast to charge, then meets the creature head on as it slams into him, and then he wrestles it to the ground. He does this over and over while striking the bull with his fists. Eventually, the beast hits the ground exhausted and unable to continue.

“Before Senchae became king, he would serve the meat from the bulls to the leaders of his grandfather’s army as a gesture of respect. They admired, revered and respected him in return. Now that he’s the leader of this bloodthirsty pack, Senchae is loved by his army and does not need to rule by fear, for they are loyal. He is loved, and his control over his kingdom is stronger than his grandfather’s reign ever was.”

Sam was impressed, but he still looked for a solution. “In my experience, a big man is also a slow man. I bet if a man was fast enough, he could defeat him.”

Mosley laughed as he leapt onto the bed. “I have not finished telling you about Senchae’s training. Fighting this single bull is a warm-up. Do you think you could defeat three bulls during the same moments, Sam? Because that is what the king does to improve his agility and speed.”

Sam flopped onto the bed. “Okay, okay. I’m sold. This guy is a champion. How am I going to achieve fame? I’m pretty tough, but it’s going to be impossible to gain an audience with the people in power if I can’t defeat a monster barbarian and live to tell about it. I’m a hundred percent sure that this guy would kick my can.”

Mosley stood from the bed and bounded to the floor. “I have suggestions, but it will take everything in you to attain the glory you need to speak with kings. You must work tirelessly if you’re to become the leader of the packs of Brandor.”

Sam’s eyes widened as the reality hit him. “So it’s true? I’m to become a leader?” His question was filled with trepidation.

Mosley shook his head in disbelief. “Sam, for someone so intelligent, you don’t show it. Did Bassorine not explain that it is the desire of the gods for you to build an empire on Grayham? Do you not want to be the leader of such a pack? Are you frightened? Does your fur not stand on end when faced with the challenge of saving worlds? Perhaps you should tell Bassorine you fall short of the gods’ expectations. I cannot help someone who doesn’t possess a strong heart.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on a second. So what if I am scared? I still have heart.” Sam stood from the chair and walked back to the window. “It’s not like I have anything to go home to.” He turned from the window and spoke with greater resolution in his voice, “If I don’t do something, who will? I understand what’s involved.” Sam sat on the sill and crossed his arms. “I’m the man for the job, so where do I start?”

The wolf liked the change in Sam’s demeanor. “You’ll be a fine leader, Sam. Your eyes are filled with conviction. However, my stomach is empty. We should eat before your training begins.”

Mosley led Sam to breakfast.

After the over-sized wench sat the food on the table, the wolf sniffed at Sam’s greggled eggs and then sat on his haunches on the wooden chair. A plate of rare corgan strips was set in front of him. “I have sent Shalee to begin her enlightenment with her staff. Her growth should be captivating to watch. Your training, however, will be much different.

“ Angels Village is perfect for your first battle. When you’re ready, we’ll introduce you to the sand that covers the arena floor. Hopefully, your victories will allow us to make the coin necessary to keep ourselves fed and warm at night.”

Mosley smiled and winked. “I know how important it is for Shalee to have a comfortable den to lie in.”

Sam’s voice was filled with anxiety. “I thought you said they fought to the death inside the arena...”

Well, fellow soul ... there’s more to Sam than meets the eye. I’m dying to tell you everything I know, but all things intriguing are best left for later moments. Even though you can’t see it, I just stuck my soulful tongue out at you. Ha, ha!





GEORGE is still sleeping just east of the Enchanted Forest on the bank of the Cripple River. Not much else to report here.





LASIDIOUS & CELESTRIA are together in their home on Ancients Sovereign. They are working out the details of a few plans before Celestria leaves for the world of Luvelles. There, she will spend the remainder of her pregnancy.





BASSORINE is still trying to find Lasidious. The others on Ancients Sovereign are growing tired of listening to the God of War shout.





SHALEE is on her way to the local School of Magical Studies. She is scheduled to start training with her new staff.





SAM & MOSLEY are waiting for Sam’s teacher at the local School of Weaponry.

Thank you for reading this edition of the Grayham Inquirer