Free Celadonian Tales Vol: 1 Blood and Brass by Walter Shuler Page A

grin wider than ever.
    "You surprise me, young one. It was thought that the elder brother would be the best suited, but you show great promise. Greater than you know, perhaps," the man's voice was strange – hollow and unreal.
    Bran glanced down at his brother's form and it all became clear. He knew where he had seen this before – it was his nightmare, but come to life in the waking world. He knew what would happen next. The location was never clear in his dreams, and the events were always slightly different, but they always ended the same.
    In his nightmares, Davin always stood up, his mouth gaping wider than possible and flames dancing in his eyes. Bran always woke screaming as his brother ate him, teeth ripping flesh from bone while Bran writhed in impotence.
    In fear, he moved back a step from Davin's body, but his brother did not move. He was truly dead. Bran looked once more to the Mirror. The stranger's grin was wider than ever, his eyes knowing.
    "Who are you? What are you?" Bran asked.
    "Your heritage, Bran. Your past," the stranger hissed. The darkness behind the man writhed and surged, shapes appeared only to dissolve once more. Colors whirled, blended, died and blackness reigned again.
    "We are your birthright, boy," the voice dripped with honey. Promises of power, dominance, victory surged through Bran's mind, tearing at the edges of his sanity.
    "Who are you?" Bran whispered against the onslaught and pain.
    "I am your salvation, child of my blood. I am the sire of your entire line. Perhaps you know me as Orir Torr, though I have had many other names. Rath Koll has always been one of my favorites."
    Orir Torr? Bran knew that name, but not in connection with real history. Torr was a myth, an echo of a myth. Legend said he had been a great king of the Aedanotii, before that race crumbled into dust and shadow, long before men walked these lands.
    Rath Koll was another name that Bran knew, but this one could be found in the dusty history books in his father's study. Koll had been an advisor to King Jaeris, centuries ago. He had also cuckolded Jaeris, driving the young king to challenge the older man to a duel. Jaeris had won that duel, though it cost him dearly.
    "Join us, blood-kin. Join us and I can grant you that which your heart craves most," the voice reverberated through Bran's mind, echoing off his pride, his shame, his lust.
    "What do you know...of my wants?" The effort to speak against the din in his skull was immense.
    "Power, Bran. Power to reclaim your position, to expunge your honor. Power to rise from the ashes of this horror and be the greatest king Celadon has known since the Founding."
    Something clicked in Bran's mind. He knew what had happened to poor Davin, and it filled him with a pure rage that burned away the tattered shadow promises.
    "I want my family back, you bastard!" he roared. Pouring his frustration, pain and despair into it, he stepped forward, bringing the heavy sword thundering around in a blur.
    The ancient blade connected with the surface of the Mirror and the world shattered soundlessly.
    An invisible hand picked Bran up and flung him backwards, the sword flying from his grip. A great crack appeared on the surface of the Mirror, bleeding light. That crack grew and spread, tendrils snaking their way across the great black oval, until the entire Mirror was spider-webbed with light.
    Then the light engulfed the world and Bran knew no more. When he regained consciousness, he was sprawled yards from where he had been. As for the Mirror, it lay scattered in shards across the floor. Only the oval frame remained, and it was not intact. Great chunks of stone were gone, and the frame leaned at a drunken angle.
    Bran struggled upright, rising unsteadily to his feet. It was over. But what had "it" been? What had Davin set in motion in his madness? Bran would have to ferret out his brother's machinations, but first, he had other business.
    Slowly, Bran knelt and cradled his brother's