Bell Of Korendell

Crossing the frozen lake of Raws was not an easy task. The ice covering the lake was slippery, and their weight caused a few cracks in the surface, pushing them to be faster. And when their feet touched the ground again, they dashed off to the forest, letting the beast in them take control. They were against time, and their chance for survival grew thinner and thinner with every tick of the clock. 

Beyond the second wall, stellars only roamed free in the cold mist of the forests, but here, various creatures roamed free. These creatures would freeze from where they stood or hid when they saw them dashing. After all, it was not a common sight here to have not just one but two hellhounds.

After they went past the small forest, a dark aired forest with crows everywhere greeted them. Ryzen snarled involuntarily, sensing danger from deep within this forest. 

‘What should we do?’ Raya silently asked him by nudging his arm. 

‘I don’t know.’

Ryzen wanted to tell Raya, but he dashed off to the forest. If his calculation was correct, they only had less than two hours. This forest was dangIrahus. Ryzen could tell even his overly innocent sister too. 

‘Why does this forest seem familiar to me?’ Ryzen asked himself, and then it clicked. 

The absence of any living creature, the awful atmosphere, and the crows—this was the legendary forest of Moor.

‘How can I forget?’ Ryzen mentally snapped at himself. 

To forget the forest of Moor meant to ignore history. Long ago, before Silver Bloods nations arose, a kingdom stood. And it was here in the woods of Moor where the last war occurred. After that, the era of the Silver Bloods happened. The awful atmosphere was because thousands had fallen in here. Souls roamed, still fighting for a war that had long ended.

Not knowing the unknown, his anxiety slipped inside Ryzen’s chaotic mind as he dashed faster. There was no reason to fear the dead, for only those who had no hope in life would succumb to their far cries that would surely drive any man into insanity. That was what lost souls were good for—they played with the inner darkness. But to those born into darkness itself, souls stayed away because these creatures born into darkness would only bring damnation to them.

‘Then I shall have no fear, for the hellhounds are born from the pit of darkness.’

With Raya hot in his heels, he halted suddenly to change for a split second. His sister did the same. Covering their heads with hoods, they walked in a great hurry. Two miles from them stood the third wall, the wall of the capital city of Raxes Kingdom, Elixinol. The city where the palace for the Silver Bloods stood, the place where the Silver Bloods resided —the Silver Bloods who ruled the eastern kingdom of Raxes.

“We made it, Ryzen!” Raya happily linked their shoulders. 

‘Not yet.’ 

Ryzen wanted to tell her, but he did not have the heart to shatter her hope after an exhausting journey. He stiffly nodded and began to walk, which she followed like a lost child.

Under the cold brush of winter breeze, the flags at the top of the wall flew gently—showing their kingdom’s emblem, a blue dragon. Flags stood atop the wall every ten meters from each other, surrounding the city with flags. 

Just like what they did at the second wall, they took off their hoods and raised their hands as they grew closer to the wall.

“State your business!” A red blood soldier clad with a different type of armor—a much more expensive and furry one—asked them while there was a metal fence between them.

“We are here for the annual coming-of-age ceremony, sir,” he meekly answered. Ryzen prepared himself to tell him the lie.

“Where are you from, lad?” His question came with a light voice. This Red Blood soldier might have thought they came from inside the second wall, and with the glint of interest in his eyes, Ryzen could tell that this soldier’s gaze roamed on his sister’s body longer than necessary.

‘Wait until you hear where we came from,’ Ryzen thought, mockery laced in his words.

“From beyond the second wall, sir, Yolke Shire to be exact,” he said, breaking the spell on this soldier. 

Something snapped in the soldier’s eyes. 

“What race?” His once gentle voice became harsh, just as Ryzen had expected.

Telling him the second lie, Ryzen answered meekly. “We are the outcasts of wizards thrown for being unable to wield an element, sir.”

He huffed and walked away. Two things could happen. First, the red blood soldier must be so pissed because he was not expecting the center of his interest to be an outcast that he would choose to ignore them. And second, he would care less and bring down the lift.

“Where is he?” Raya whispered while visibly fidgeting.

They should be anxious, for the rays from the blue sun were slowly fading. It must have been less than an hour left before the bell of Korendell would ring. 

He did not answer her. Ryzen did not know as well, and it was frustrating for him.

‘Did the soldier not believe us?’

‘Of course, he did.’ Ryzen answered the lingering question at the back of his mind.

Because if he did not, there would be a rain of arrows toward them, which was not happening yet.

Raya gave a frustrated sigh as she paced back and forth behind him. He just stood there looking directly at where the red blood soldier had disappeared. If only they were not low born, then they could have been in an entirely different situation—thoughts like these were locked deep in his mind.

Ryzen did not want to upset their parents, who he knew thought the same. Being born from a race at the bottom of the chain never had its perks. 

‘Oh, scratch that. Hellhounds have their perks in battle. But our skills are not needed anymore, for the four nations are already coexisting with each other.’

And he did not wish for war because a family like theirs would be the first to suffer.

Ryzen and Raya witnessed everything as their hope dimmed. 

‘It is over. So much for the annual coming-of-age ceremony, huh?’

“What are they doing down there?” A deep calm feminine voice asked from up above. 

The two immediately looked up.

“They are from the outskirts, Your Grace,” a soldier answered warily. 

‘Your Grace? Is she a noble? Or is she the captain of the holy knights?’

“Then bring down the lift! The bell of Korendell will soon ring.” Her voice reeked of power. 

And just like that, the lift came down. Only this time, it was not old and made of wood. It was made of a metal build for a more significant number. They quickly stepped on the lift, which ascended immediately after the bell of Korendell rang —sending the crows nearby to fly away.

And so they succeeded.

For now.