Lord of Shadows: Shadow of Skiamance - Vol. IV
Immortus
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Lord of Shadows: Shadow of Skiamance - Vol. IV
by Immortus
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Chapter 19: We Meet Seldig
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"Rise and shine!"
Evan's voice sounded cheerful and bright, and in a second I found out
why. The smell of cooking reached me even in my sleep induced state, and
I sat bolt upright.
"Food?" I asked hopefully. I sniffed the air again.
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Stew. Bacon. Mushrooms. Suddenly I realised I had practically nothing to eat since Istenmire, save for a few biscuits in the forest. I glanced around, and spotted Evan sitting by a pot suspended over the fire, stirring with his left hand and at
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the same time frying with his right.
"Oh yes. I went hunting this morning. Best hunting time is morn or dusk. That's when game likes to get moving for the day."
Yawning, I got closer to the fire. Dawn and Ellen stirred somewhere behind me, and came
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up to us groggily.
"I could eat all of you twice over," Ellen muttered, sitting down on the damp grass.
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," I chuckled. "So what is it exactly we're having for breakfast?"
"Crispy bacon, eggs, and this beautiful
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chicken-and-assorted-mushroom stew with just a touch of peppermint," Evan said brightly, beginning to hand out bowls. I frowned.
"Since when did you know how to cook?"
Evan shrugged.
"I used to be in the northern military before I signed up
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for the Resistance. It's a useful skill, you know. They say an army matches on it's stomach, and if you can't cook a decent meal, how will you march eh?"
I shrugged, and dug in. The food was brilliant. After two days of living on biscuits, it felt
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like dining in a palace. Or a castle. Or actually any decent place in which to eat that didn't happen to be a forest edge.
"Out of interest," I asked Evan, motioning with a spoon. "What mushrooms did you use?"
"Some sort of Amanita's. Might
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have been a panther," he replied in an offhand voice, studying his fingers.
I spewed the mouthful of stew that had been in my mouth, gagging. Ellen and Dawn had mirroring masks of horror. Evan, however, bellowed with laughter.
"Only joking. No
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need to get your mittens in a twist. For your information, it's chanterelle and cep," he added hastily, seeing the look on my face.
"Idiot," Dawn muttered, pushing her bowl away. Me and Ellen did likewise, all of a sudden our ravenous
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appetite gone.
After breakfast, we packed our bags, discussing the next stage of our journey. Just before we set off, Evan turned around to face us.
"We need to be careful from this point onwards," Evan said seriously. "We
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are closer to the capital now. There are bound to be Imperial patrols."
"What about the river?" Dawn asked. I nodded, sharing he same concern. Not far from where we were, river Seldig cut across the land. The river was fast flowing and dangerous. It
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happened to cut across our route from the side, meaning that there was no way to avoid crossing it without travelling through about half of Minecraftia on foot.
Evan spoke with a hint of a smile in his voice.
"In every literal way, we will have to
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cross that bridge when we come to it."
Everybody went through their final checks, patting pockets and bags to make sure nothing was left behind. Slowly, I unsheathed my sword. Stormsteel. I gazed at the blade, running my fingers along
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it's length gently and for the first time acknowledging it's true magnificence. It was a beautiful weapon, the metal slender and elegant, in brilliant contrast to Evan's thick and stubby hunk of steel. Majestic almost. Swift yet graceful. And there, at
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the base of the sword, was it etched in neat print- Tempas Chalybral. A name in the ancient language for what I took to be an ancient sword.
"We should go," Ellen's voice shook me from my brooding. "We have lost enough time already,"
We set off. I
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could tell we were nearer to civilisation because the raw, wild force of nature was less prevalent here. The grass looked more tamed and content, hills stretching lazily like cats into the distance. A wind swept carelessly through the
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otherwise still air, but at it's own leisurely pace, almost as if the breeze was tired of blowing. Lonely trees stood dotted around the hilly terrain, swaying idly.
Our pace increased as we steadily cleared hill after rolling hill, the
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spires in the distance gradually inching closer. I barely felt tired. In fact, I was full of energy, all but bouncing along in front of the others. I guessed it was because I had gotten stronger from all the walking. Or perhaps it had been the food and
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the sleep. Whatever the reason, before long Evan started lagging behind, and the first rest was initiated by him.
"I just... need a... second..." he huffed, hands on his knees, his face flushed. "What idiot... invented... long distances..."
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"Probably somebody nicer than you," I remarked sarcastically, reminding him of the words in the valley those long, long days before. Beside me, Dawn laughed and even Ellen gave a grudging smile.
After Evan's recovery, we set
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off at a firm, steady pace once again. We walked for a few more miles, until I stopped in my tracks. Dawn, who had walked past me, turned around.
"What is it?" she asked, concern on her face.
I strained my ears, trying to hear it again.
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"Is that... running water?" I asked half-hopefully. It meant we were getting close. Dawn paused too, frowning in concentration.
"It must be..." she said slowly. "We must be getting close."
Up front, Evan yelled at us to hurry. There was one last
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hill to scale, standing taller and prouder than the others. I picked up my pace, overtaking Ellen and Evan and sprinting up the hill. Struggling for breath, I kept fighting up the slope. I could see the top. So close. With one last burst of effort, I
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cleared the hill, the ground evening beneath my feet. Breathing heavily, I gazed upon the river below me, air momentarily catching in my throat.
River Seldig ran far into the distance, a powerful, writhing mass of blue and white. Far to my
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right it curved in a graceful meander, before continuing further downstream. The sheer power of the water took my breath away, the rapids snarling and roaring as if enraged by the victims standing just out of reach. We stood on a small, rocky
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outcrop overlooking the river, the rapids pounding at the stone aggressively with a quiet roar as the fast-moving water snaked its way past. It was amazing to watch. The river seemed to come alive.
Dawn stood by my side, as entranced as I was by the
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mesmerising sight.
"Not good," Evan said, raising his voice slightly over the noise. "I hoped Seldig would let us pass. Now it seems not so,"
"You make it sound like it's alive," I murmured, eyes fixed on the river below me. Evan heard.
"Legends
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say," he started in a heavy tone, "that the water spirit Seldig inhabits this river. And in time of her anger the water becomes harsh and uncrossable. Seems we caught her on a bad day."
"You seriously believe legends?" I scoffed. Evan
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fixed his hard, serious gaze on me.
"Believe me, Smith. I have every reason to believe that spirits are real,"
"And you do too Darien," Dawn added.
With a shiver, I remembered my dream of Monetia. Then I realised that Evan had a similar
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dream as well. I swallowed. Of course I had every reason to believe spirits were real.
"Brilliant," Evan kicked the ground in frustration. "Just great."
"We need a plan," I said, turning around. "Something good."
We all thought
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about it for a moment.
"I could shoot an arrow across," Ellen suggested. "Tie the end off here with rope, and shoot it to the other side. We can tightrope across."
I coughed, while Evan shook his head.
"Two problems. Firstly, would you really trust
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your weight on a line that isn't tied down? Suppose the arrow worked itself loose. Not a great scenario. Secondly..." Evan paused and glanced at me with annoyance. "Some of us have extreme balance issues and the luck of a drunk leprechaun. I am
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going to assume that Darien here won't enjoy drowning much."
"You assume correctly," I huffed, not liking being singled out.
There was more quiet as everybody considered the problem.
"We could wade
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across," I suggested weakly.
"You can go first," Evan said sarcastically. "If nothing had happens to you, then we'll follow on."
"How about a bridge?" Dawn asked. This time, Evan didn't dismiss the idea straight away. Instead, he
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frowned and motioned with a hand.
"Go on."
"Well," Dawn started, "maybe we could build a makeshift bridge across. Out of branches or... or planks. We should be able to find a tree somewhere. Then we lean it across and walk over."
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Evan looked dubious, but I shrugged.
"Best idea so far." I said. He nodded. Only Ellen seemed to disagree.
"Wait. How do we know that this... bridge will hold?" she said.
Me and Evan glanced at each other.
"We don't," Evan said slowly.
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"But it's our best idea so far, so unless anyone has anything better, we should get to work." I finished. Evan rubbed his hands together, then rolled up his sleeves..
"Let's get started," he said, dumping his things on the ground and flexing his
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shoulders.
The first part was finding the wood. Luckily, not far from the riverbank there were several large sapling blown over in the dust by a recent storm. Together, me and Evan hauled them back to the bank, laying them neatly on the grass. Using
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some spare rope from Ellen's pack, we lashed the wood together tightly as we could, forming a rudimentary bridge about half a metre wide.
After a painstaking hour, the work was done. I surveyed our handiwork. Our bridge was long enough
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to span the width of Seldig, while having enough length left over to be able to be balanced on both sides. Glancing at Dawn, I knew she was thinking what I was thinking- was it really enough?
She shrugged, brushing a stray length of fair hair
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from her face.
"Guess we'll find out."
Together we hauled the makeshift bridge towards the bank. The air was immediately filled with the roar of the river, making it almost impossible for conversation. Carefully, we layed the crude bridge over to the
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other side, balancing it on rocks so that it was above the water. I shifted the whole thing so that it was wedged tightly between the rocks, trying to make as stable as it could be.
I took a deep breath. I made to take a step onto the thing, but Evan
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pulled me back, his other arm barring my way.
"I'll go first." he said.
"I think I should," Dawn argued. Ellen shook her head, and said impatiently,
"No, I'll go. I have better balance than all of you put together."
Evan considered
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for a second. I could tell he hated the idea, but he after a minute he nodded curtly in assent. He knew there wasn't a lot of choice. Taking a deep breath, Ellen gingerly placed her foot on the bridge, testing it's hold. Gradually she shifted her
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weight onto the thing, before beginning to walk. It was slow progress. The bridge wobbled precariously under her weight, but eventually, finally, she made it across. My chest started to hurt. I realised I had forgotten to breath.
Ellen waved from
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across the bank on the other side, as if saying it was safe. I exhaled and tried to breath again.
"I'll go next," Dawn said, and before either me or Evan could argue, she leapt nimbly onto the bridge and began to walk across.
I was pretty sure
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my heart stopped several times while Dawn was crossing, and I caught my breath every time the bridge or Dawn wobbled. A drop of something trailed of my wrist, snaking around my hand. I looked down and realised it was blood. I forcibly
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unclenched my tight fists and flexed my fingers, opting instead to fix my gaze of the swift flow of the river. Finally, after what seemed like an age, Dawn was safely across.
I was less worried about Evan, knowing he was agile and confident with
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balance. He barely took any time at all, walking at a brisk pace across the gap, his arms outstretched. Then it was my turn.
"Come on Darien! You can do it!"
I heard Evan and the others shouting from the opposite bank. Gingerly, I placed
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a foot on the bridge. A drop of sweat slid down the side of my face, and I wiped it away. I didn't need any distraction. Trying to keep my hands from trembling, I took deep breath, and stepped forward, transferring my weight to the
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lashed wood. It was terrifying. I could feel every lurch or wobble of the makeshift bride, every shudder of the timber. Every jostle made my world lurch and spin. For a horrifying second I though I was going to fall, but I forced myself to
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concentrate. I exhaled through gritted teeth, and started to walk.
Outstretching my arms, I took a step. And another. And another. One step at a time, I shuffled carefully to the other side. Don't look down, I thought to myself. Never look
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down. That would be the worst mistake I could make. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could just about make out the writhing, tumbling mass of water below my feet, desperately trying to reach the prey that had so foolishly offered itself up for drowning.
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I prayed it wouldn't come to that.
Somehow I managed to steadily plod along without tripping. The opposite bank had gone silent, and I could imagine the others holding their breath. The roar of Seldig filled my ears. I realised that I was almost half
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way, and I allowed myself to feel the tinniest hope that I would come out of this alive. I relaxed a fraction. I could do this.
But people say I have the worst luck in the world for a reason. And perhaps that was why it had chosen to let me down in
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this crucial moment. A stray breeze swept casually through the air, and my concentration snapped. The bridge shuddered bracingly, and I found myself flailing wildly as I began to fall.
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Chapter 20: Looking on the Bright Side
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I started to fall head first into the river. Somehow, impossibly, my
clutching hands found some purchase on the rough bridge, pain scraping
my hands as they slid down the course wood.
Choking, deafened and blind, I struggled to maintain my hold
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as the river raged below me. The river had hands. Clawed hands that tried to pull me down with it, into the swirling mass of blue and white. I heard a yell from the bank, the voice indistinguishable. The bridge started to shudder, and I felt the thing
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shift from the rocks I carefully wedged it in earlier. I was running out of options. If I waited, the bridge would tumble into the river - me still on it. If I tried to do anything apart from blindly hold on for dear life, I would fall in anyway. Idiot,
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I thought to myself furiously. I'm an idiot. What a way to go. What a lousy, stupid, useless way to die.
The yelling got closer now, the words barely audible over the roaring water.
"Darien!" Evan's voice roared. "Grab my hand!"
I didn't answer,
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instead swiping blindly with one arm and almost losing my grip.
"Too far away!" he bellowed again. "Get closer!"
The bridge gave a shuddering groan and began to slowly slip. It caught on something, and ground to a halt. I was losing time. I didn't
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dare loosen my grip with my arms, but I didn't know how much longer I could hold on. Already my arms were burning from gripping the bridge so long. Slowly, I shuffled closer to Evan's voice, blinking desperately to try and see what I was doing through
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the sparking water. I could just about make out Evan's outline.
I swiped again, and this time my hand was met by another. Evan tried to grab me, but my wet, dripping hand slipped out of his grip.
"Come on!" he yelled. He made a grab
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for my hand again and this time got a firm hold. Together, him and the others hauled me painfully onto the bank, where I collapsed, spluttering and coughing. I glanced back, and in a few seconds our makeshift bridge was swept away by
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Seldig.
"We're stranded," Ellen muttered.
"Luck of a drunk leprechaun you say?" I said with a smile as I took a shuddering breath. I nodded Evan thanks. "That's twice you saved my life now,"
Evan cleared his throat.
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"Three times." he corrected.
"Who's keeping count?" I groaned, getting to my feet, sopping wet, only to be tackled by Dawn's hug.
"I am. You owe me three lives," Evan said.
"Two actually," I grinned. "I saved
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you from that wolf in the woods."
After a few minutes, when I felt well enough to go on, once again we started in the direction of Fortin. We kept vigilant, ever aware of the Imperial patrols who were on the lookout for us. It would not do to be
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caught now. Not long after, Fortin's towering wall fell into a view, blocking the city out from the outside world save for the few gates and windows. Fortin was beautiful. However magnificent I found Istenmire, Fortin was more so. Ten times more. A
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hundred.
Beside me, Evan put a finger to his lips and pointed to the top of the wall. I could spot a small figure pacing it's length.
"We climb when the patrols change," Evan whispered.
"May I ask how?" I whispered back.
"No, you may not."
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That pretty much ended our climbing conversation. Cautiously, silent as shadows, we slunk in the darkness of the walls. The shadows grew longer, reaching towards us as if eager to welcome us into their dark, lonely embrace. It was
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almost sunset. That was good; after all, the night would give us additional cover.
I glanced up. Fortin's wall was higher than the one at Istenmire, almost 5... 6 metres high. I wondered what Evan's brilliant plan was.
"Hey, tarantula," Evan
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whispered in Ellen's direction. "You take the lead. You got more experience."
Ellen gave him a glare, then started to creep along the side of the wall, motioning for us to follow. Working quickly, she took a piece of rope and tied it securely to one of
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her arrows.
"What are you-" I started to ask, but she already fired her bow. I could just about spot the metal bracket high on the wall that she was aiming for before the arrow thudded at my feet, the rope looped securely around the metal bracket,
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both ends here on the ground. Unfazed, she began to tie a knot on one of the ends that I recognised as a bowline. When she finished, she threw the bight to me and I caught it uncertainly, unsure of what to do.
"Well?" she asked
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as she pulled on her end of the rope, the expression on her face something that could only be amusement. "Climb."
* * *
Several exhausting, terrifying, near-death minutes later, we were all safely on the walls of the capital. Ellen
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had her timing perfectly, choosing the guard-less moment when the old patrol had just left and the new one had not quite arrived. When I asked her how she knew, she said it was instinct.
"You don't be a master thief as long as me without developing
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a sixth sense."
I took an involuntary step back and she laughed.
"Don't worry," she reassured me, her blue eyes still amused. "I'm past those days now,"
"I suppose you forgot to mention this until now?" I asked, my voice surprisingly
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calm with suppressed anger. Ellen just shrugged.
"It never came up."
I should have let it got. I should have shrugged it off and carried on. But I couldn't. All of my bitterness and frustration towards sarcastic, secretive Evan, and the
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even more mysterious Ellen boiled to the surface.
"So that's how you got pay Raynard's hounds," I growled.
The effect was immediate. Confusion, then realisation and finally anguish spread across Ellen's face as
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she realised what I was referring to. Evan's response was less dramatic. He froze, tense his eyes narrowing. Then he launched into an exasperated excuse.
"Look Darien-"
"Save it," I snarled. "Anything else you want to keep from
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for a while longer? Perhaps a few things about my dear sweet father you both know so much about!"
"Darien-" Evan started, but I cut across him.
"Max knew my father Evan! He knew! Why? Why did he keep it from me?"
"He had his
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reasons," Evan said coldly.
"Right," I growled, "reasons for keeping my family dead. I never had family Evan. Never. Now I might! And what about you? You could have said!"
"Max thought it best for you," Evan argued. "The
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knowledge may hurt. You would get your hopes up only to see them crash right back down again."
"I'd rather be wounded by truth than be healed with lies," I snarled savagely. All my anger, all my resentment I had locked deep inside
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my heart came crashing down on me. Each cut made by a comment of wit, every striking laugh directed at me, I felt it now, coming to the surface of my mind like a storm. And I finally realised, from the depth of my heart to the marrow of my bones, just
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how much I hated the snide, sarcastic Evan standing before me now.
Evan must have seen the change in my face, because he said in a low and warning tone I hadn't heard him ever use,
"No Darien, don't do it,"
But I already made
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my mind up. As I drew my fist back, Evan glanced at Dawn, his face apologetic.
"I am truly sorry for this,"
I took a swing at Evan, but before my fist could make contact with his face, he sprung out of the way. I staggered, off-balance, and
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Evan's fist came crashing into my jaw. My feet shuffled back from the force of the blow, and as my feet tangled together, I fell onto the floor.
"Ouch," I complained, as I sat up, rubbing the spot on my face where I was sure there was going to
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be a mark.
After a few seconds Evan offered his hand to me and helped me to my feet.
"Finished?" he said, taking a step back and surveying me critically. "Or do I have to do another one?"
I didn't answer. The intense impulse to
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attack Evan was gone, the fire of rage extinguished. Blinded by rage, I had not realised that of Max had to keep something like that from me, the reasons would have to be pretty drastic. Added to that, I owed Evan my life many times over. It wasn't
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right for me to hate him.
"I'm sorry," I muttered, already ashamed for my brief outburst of temper.
"You should be,"
Evan eyed me warily. Dawn and Ellen were still frozen in shock, unable to believe what just happened.
"How much did you
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hear?" he asked warily.
I shrugged.
"How much?" he pressed with more force.
"Enough," I managed.
He nodded, deciding to himself.
"You will know the truth in time. But now is not that time."
"You'll tell me?" I
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asked, surprised.
"There is only so much I can tell. Heck, even I don't know the whole story." Evan shrugged. "But I'll tell you what I know. In time Darien, you have my word."
"What the hell are you both on about?" Dawn suddenly snapped. I could
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tell she didn't like being in the dark.
"Nothing," I answered. "Just a few things I needed to clear up."
We made our way over the wall, slinking in the alleys and melting into the shadows at the sight of enemy patrols. Ellen lead the way, reading
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the directions scrawled hastily in Max's office all those days ago. We wondered into a poorer, less hospitable side of Fortin, the houses leaking and creaking wrecks of wood and stone cobbled hastily together. I thought that we had it
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rough in Eldolin, but in a way, we were lucky. Living in a village, we were all close, a community. People looked out for each other. I could tell there was not such a practice in the city. Here it was every man for himself.
Eventually, we ended up on
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the back end of a street, the last house in front of us.
"Well," Ellen said slightly nervously, shoving the ragged piece of paper in a pocket. "We're here."
The house in front of us looked elderly compared to the others in the rougher district
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of Fortin, but better made than some of the houses we passed on the way here. The walls slumped to one side tiredly, as if leaning on each other for support, the nails holding the wooden planks together tarnished with rust. Even the roof groaned with
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the effort of holding it's own weight.
"You'd think a seer could afford a fancier property," Dawn said bitterly. "Making money off fortunes and other whatnot."
Even though the two northerners gave Dawn a strange look, I could tell
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exactly why she felt like that. Cash was hard enough to come by. The idea that a money spinning talent could be wasted suggested an air of arrogance. Why use those talents when you have everything you need?
"Probably keeping a low profile," Evan
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guessed. "If Skiamance found out, he would use him."
"Then why not go over to the winning side?" I asked, a sharp edge of bitterness in my voice. To my surprise, Dawn answered rather than the ever so knowledgable Evan.
"What if the seer
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outlived his usefulness? No, he probably thinks it's safer to stay in the dark. People like that only think first and foremost about their own skin."
I shrugged. "Guess so. Look on the bright side: at least we found him."
I walked up to the
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door, raising an eyebrow.
"So we just... knock?"
Ellen stepped forward, then carefully rapped the door with her knuckles and stepped back, waiting for it to open.
"Keep watch," she said in a low voice. "Leave this to me."
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Chapter 21: A Lesson in Persuasion
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I did as she asked and trained my eyes on the end of the street, tense
and vigilant. The door opened an inch, and I caught sight of the flash
of a chain on the inside. The rest of him obscured by the door, and I
could only make out the man's face; lined
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and wizened with age, grey hair the colour of stone. His eyes were strangely coloured. The right was a regular, yet vibrant blue, but his left was a strange shade of gold. Like melted gold. Believe me, the adopted son of blacksmith I knew my metals. For
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some reason, the strange shade of liquid gold hinted at much greater sight than what simply met the eye.
The man studied me with those strange, mismatched eyes, before recognition flashed across his features. Taking one look at my
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company, his expression turned almost frightened and he slammed the door into Ellen's face. I heard the distinct sound of multiple bolts drawn and keys turned in locks.
"Go and leave me in peace!" he shouted, his voice muffled
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by the door. "The last thing I need is trouble with the law!"
When Ellen spoke, her voice was deathly calm.
"Videntus. You owe my father a debt. We are here today to honour that debt, and your cooperation would be much appreciated."
I could feel
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Videntus hesitate.
"His name?" he asked cautiously.
"Tennon," Ellen said quietly, ear pressed against the door. I could imagine Videntus doing the same. "Alan Tennon. He saved your life many years ago."
A pause. Then...
"He is dead. He has
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been dead for at least 5 winters now." The seer's tone was careful... Cautious.
Ellen winced.
"Believe me, I know. I am his daughter. Now, will you help us?"
"Alan Tennon, the man who saved my life is dead. His debt dies with him. I owe you
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nothing,"
Dawn groaned, and I sighed. How could we not see it coming?
"Reconsider Videntus," Ellen warned. "The company I keep is much more threatening to your long-term health than me."
"Leave before I
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call the guards!" he hissed.
"Notch does not smile fortunes upon a man who does not repay his debts," Ellen reasoned.
"And neither does Notch smile fortunes upon a man who harbours criminals!" he countered.
"Some criminals we
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are, to be fighting for the good will of all. Answer me this seer, do you truly have faith in the current justice system?"
There was no answer. I could tell Ellen hit a sore nerve, but I also knew Videntus was a conflicted man. I could almost
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imagine his conscience tearing itself apart, the instinct for self-preservation warring with his morality. Still no answer.
Eventually Ellen threw her hands up in frustration as she turned towards us.
"I tried," she said,
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exasperated. Evan rolled his eyes.
"Told you he wouldn't play nice," he said, cracking his knuckles. "My turn."
"What will you do?" Dawn asked nervously.
"I won't hurt him," Evan promised. "Just let him know what he's dealing with and
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where he stands."
Evan walked up to the door and knocked once, lightly.
"You there Videntus?" he asked softly, his voice deadly. No answer. Evan crouched by the door, listened for a second then nodded to himself.
"That's right. You
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don't talk. You listen." Evan's voice was impossibly soft, but it somehow made him seem even more threatening.
"We are here on business of a threat that may be the death of us all. We are searching for a particular magical artefact, which, if
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it falls into the hands of the Dark Lord, will mean the end of the world as we know it. Skiamance will attack the North my seer friend. And if the North falls, we all fall. How much time of peace will you have? How many days Videntus? How many months?
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But you can be sure that they will come for you eventually, no matter how careful you are. They will come for you. If Skiamance finds the spawner, you are as good as dead."
Evan paused, letting his words sink in and have an effect.
"You can prevent
#pgx122
all this. If you help us, we will stop the threat, thus saving your life. You can prevent the death and bloodshed of thousands in the Northlands by helping us."
I heard a quiet snort from behind the door.
"What do I care
#pgx123
about the North? What if I refuse? I value my life North dweller, and I have no wish to involve myself in these matters." Videntus sneered in a rough whisper.
"I will not take no for an answer," Evan said calmly, but I could hear a note of strain
#pgx124
behind it. "I will not allow your ignorance to destroy my homeland."
No answer. Evan sighed and leaned back against the door, twirling a dagger expertly between his fingers.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either you let
#pgx125
us in willingly and help us, or we make our way in and force you to help, before killing you. Believe me, I have no qualms about killing a man who does not repay his debts and would rather see the world destroyed just to save his own skin."
"It is
#pgx126
folly to fight against Lord Skiamance!" Videntus gasped. Evan laughed and his face split into a bitter smile.
"Lord to you now is he?" he jeered, still smiling. "Last chance seer. You let us in or I kill you myself."
There was long pause of
#pgx127
silence.
"I will help you," Videntus whispered flatly.
Evan waited.
"You have... You have my word." Videntus added sourly. The seer sounded as if he as choking on the words. And then slowly the locks started to turn
#pgx128
and the bolts drawn back. Finally, eventually, the door opened and Videntus stood in the doorway, his face a grim mask.
"You'd better come in," Videntus said darkly, and disappeared inside.
#pgx129
Chapter 22: Revelations of the Dark
#pgx130
"Come in, come in," Videntus flustered as he ushered us in. The doorway
was too low and I had to duck my head as I came in. Once again, I
examined the ancient seer. He was old, no doubt, with his stone grey
hair and lined features. He was small, his
#pgx131
frame stooped and scrawny and beaten down, just like his house, by time and the brutality of the law.
I straightened and gazed around. The seer's home was cramped and cluttered and stuffy, lit only by a few candles that gave the place a
#pgx132
sinister shadow. I couldn't imagine living in a place like this. I needed my space.
"Well?" Videntus snapped impatiently.
Evan inclined his head in gratitude.
"We thank you for your service seer."
Videntus rolled his eyes.
"Yes, yes," he
#pgx133
bristled, "I know that. Now about the so called business you need to discuss?"
Evan was about to reply when The front door opened and a cloaked person walked in. The hood was drawn up so I had no idea who it was, but when they raised their head, I
#pgx134
gasped. It was a woman. A beautiful woman too, with bright eyes, glossy black hair that fell on her shoulders, and a brilliant smile. Evan turned as well to look at the mysterious new comer, and the pair of us stood gaping like idiots.
"I'm back from
#pgx135
my outing uncle," she said in a musical voice and strolled past us, before pausing. "Who are our guests?"
"Er..." Evan started.
I felt a sharp pain in my side as Dawn elbowed me in the ribs, hard.
"Ow," I muttered. "What was that for?"
I caught
#pgx136
sight of Ellen giving Evan a hard kick in the shin, and he too snapped out of his trance.
"Is there any place more private we can discuss this?" Ellen asked. Then she glanced at the girl. "Alone."
Videntus nodded.
"Leave us," he
#pgx137
addressed the girl, and then led his way through the tiny home to a door half hidden behind a tapestry that hung crookedly on the wall. I only had to time to shoot the girl an apologetic look at her abrupt dismissal before Videntus ushered us down a
#pgx138
stair case and closed the door on her wounded expression. With trembling hands, the old seer lit a candle and led us down into a basement.
"My niece. But we will not be overheard here," he said firmly.
I gazed around. Unlike the rest of the old
#pgx139
man's house, the room was sparsely furnished, bearing only roughly made table and chair in the centre. A shelf stood at the end of the room, books crammed into every available space. A lamp hung on the ceiling, throwing the furniture into light whilst
#pgx140
leaving the rest of the room in empty shadow.
"So," Videntus began, "the business? Of course, I had half a thought you would appear eventually, and I had no way of contacting you to say I willed otherwise-"
"You knew we were coming?" I
#pgx141
interrupted
"I know all," he said wisely. "I see all. Now, what do you require of me?"
Evan nodded, his eyes trained on the seer.
"We were told that you have the sight. That you could tell us the location of a magical artefact."
"Then you have
#pgx142
been informed correctly. It is true," Videntus sighed. "I can, and have always have been able to see more than what is good for me. Fortunes, locations, memories..." he shrugged. "It all comes to me. As it happens, I can also see magic. You
#pgx143
see, all magical items radiate an energy, an aurora so to speak. It is possible for me to detect this aurora. The more powerful the object, the easier it is for me."
As he spoke, I noticed a note of passion in his explanation, and I realised that
#pgx144
magic was one of his more interesting subjects.
"Good," Dawn interjected before Evan could reply. "Then luck is on our side,"
We all gave each other a grim look. I thought we could all guess that Videntus' reaction about
#pgx145
what he was searching for was not going to be a positive one.
"What is it?" he muttered hurriedly, seeing our expressions. "What is this object you need me so much to discover?"
"Videntus," Evan said smoothly. "How
#pgx146
much do you know about the Spawner?"
The seer's jaw dropped. Fear flooded his eyes and his aged face drained of colour until it was white as chalk. The impatient, snappish manner was gone, like a mask torn away, revealing what really was underneath; a
#pgx147
very frightened, very old man.
"No..." he whispered hoarsely. "You cannot be-"
"You gave us your word seer," Evan pressed. "We hold you by it."
A moment of tense silence. Then Videntus gave a tiny nod and hurried
#pgx148
over to his bookshelf, recalling information as he went.
"A dangerous piece of work. Dark, very nasty piece of magic. It has had many names over the centuries... the Spawner, the Death Cage, the Master's Cube, the Flame
#pgx149
Within, Anori Anaris... It was hidden in the Shadow Days by Notch himself..."
He ran a finger over the spines of the books until his fingers settled on a particularly old one. Licking the tips of his fingers, he withdrew it from the shelf, hurrying
#pgx150
back to us and laying the book open on the table. When he glanced up I could see the undiluted fear in his eyes.
"I fear it may not be hidden for much longer," he whispered breathlessly.
"Give us some insight on what we are searching for,"
#pgx151
Ellen said, attention focused on the book. I glanced at the open page. Judging by the drawings, the Spawner did indeed resemble a cage, the thing made of a black, sleek material that vaguely fit the description of obsidian. Inside burned a flame,
#pgx152
and the carefully scripted annotations simply referred to it as 'the Flame Within'. As I examined the intricate drawings, flipping the pages, I felt Videntus's curious gaze on me.
"What?" I asked self-consciencely.
"Interesting," he murmured in an
#pgx153
unsettling way. "Very interesting. What will you make of this?"Before I could understand what he meant, he clapped his hands together and muttered an incantation. A bright light filled the room but then it was gone in an instant. I flinched at the
#pgx154
energy so hard that I bumped into Dawn, earning me a concerned glance.
"Oh-ho-ho... Very interesting!" Videntus chuckled, now examining me as one might examine an expensive piece of jewellery they bought cheap at a market; an
#pgx155
unbelievable bargain.
"Do you know magic?" he asked, his mismatched eyes shining with excitement. I shook my head.
"Well you should learn," he snapped brusquely. "Brilliant natural talent. Wasted potential. I
#pgx156
know a good mage when I see one boy, I promise you that."
Evan cleared hit throat loudly, and Videntus took a deep breath, returning to the subject of the Spawner.
"The Spawner's power is unbelievable. Unmatched by any other. Blood by
#pgx157
the Spawner's hand stains itself across many pages of Minecraftia's history."
"Why?" I asked. "What can it do?"
The old man took a shuddering breath.
"It raises Immortui. It raises the dead from their graves."
I frowned.
#pgx158
"You mean bringing the dead back to life?"
"I mean," he snapped, "Raising the dead from their graves, to perform tasks. There is a difference. Dead raised by the use of the Spawner will remember no past, will not think, will not feel. They will only
#pgx159
be consumed by a feral instinct to destroy all except their master. We refer to them as the Immortui,"
"Zombies," I breathed, translating automatically.
"Can you find where it is?" Evan asked doubtfully.
"I can try."
#pgx160
The words were not the ones we wanted to hear. They implied that there was a chance of failure, that it might not be possible but despite this Videntus would give his very best efforts to try and succeed. Me and the others exchanged grim looks.
#pgx161
"Do it." Evan said.
Videntus sat down at the desk, laying his hands flat on the table. He closed his eyes, his brows furrowing in concentration, and he started muttering. His mutterings were too quiet for me to catch the words, but the
#pgx162
room started to buzz with energy again, like the air was filled with tiny sparks.
"I see mountains," Videntus started, his voice deep and harsh and somehow different to how he usually spoke. "An entrance... A sign at the entrance, a mineshaft."
#pgx163
He paused, his fingers gripping the desk tighter.
"I see tunnels..." he murmured. "Winding tunnels deep into the earth. Further and further. Glittering gold in the deep, bane of man's greed. Sparkling jewels cursed for the blood they spilled. And
#pgx164
there, in the tunnels he awaits, the one who never sleeps. Alone. So alone. For millennia. There he stalks... So alone, so bitter, prowling his dark tunnels,"
Videntus gripped the table with his hands as if his life depended on it, the knuckles turning
#pgx165
white.
"He walks alone in his tunnels, hungry and crazed... those terrible tunnels... Those terrible tunnels of FEAR."
With a gasp the seers eyes flew open as he choked back a sob. His hands released their death grip on the table as he
#pgx166
started shaking uncontrollably. For some reason Evan and Dawn have each other a significant glance, as if they had suspicions as to where this place may be. Ellen looked concerned.
"Are you alright?" she asked gently.
Videntus only took
#pgx167
a deep, shaky breath and closed his eyes again.
"I see a pool, shimmering light full of life, and beneath it the soil of death... I see shafts and machines, abandoned and ancient, and the skeletons of the deep... I see an entrance, with
#pgx168
scratches. Three markings, like claws. The Dark Gate. I see... I see-"
But we would never find out what he saw next because then Videntus opened his eyes and leaned back in the chair, exhausted. He looked barely conscious, drained from the
#pgx169
effort of the sight. Evan nodded, as everything confirmed his worst suspicions. He and Dawn looked at each other grimly and said at the same time,
"Thorian Mines."
Ellen groaned.
"Surely even our luck can't be that bad?"
"Correction," I
#pgx170
interjected. "You're with me. Now what are these 'Thorian Mines'?"
"Now is not the time to be telling horror stories," Evan said darkly.
"I read about them once," Dawn shuddered. "I still have nightmares."
At the table,
#pgx171
Videntus seemed to be coming around.
"No, you cannot go-" he groaned as he sat up. "I will be the death of you."
Evan only rolled his eyes, making Videntus sit up, agitated.
"Listen to me," Videntus urged. "You are not complete. Your group is
#pgx172
broken."
"What do you mean, 'broken'?" Dawn asked urgently. Videntus coughed before continuing.
"You are four. You have a group of four. Strength," the seer's eyes focused on Evan. "Wit," he turned to Ellen. "Hope," this time he
#pgx173
said to Dawn. Finally his gaze settled on me. "Courage."
Dawn shook her head.
"I still don't understand why the group is broken."
"Wait!" Videntus cried. "There is another. Magic. Without Magic you cannot pass the Dark Gate. You must find him, for
#pgx174
only then can you succeed."
His blue and gold eyes looked pleading.
"Do not go. Do not throw your life away for a losing cause,"
"For a good cause, life can never be thrown away." Evan replied coldly.
Videntus shook his head and gripped
#pgx175
Evan's arm, the seer's fingers, surprisingly strong, clamping around the Northman's elbow.
"You do not understand-" he rasped, but before he could say anymore, the brutal pounding of a fist on a door echoed down the stairs. And I
#pgx176
heard the voices that chilled me to the very bone. The voices that belonged to the Imperial guard.
#pgx177
Chapter 23: Swords and Circuses
#pgx178
We froze instantly.
"Not good," Evan whispered. No, it was not good at all. Leave it to Evan
to sum up the situation in a pair of words.The pounding was harder now,
more desperate.
"Let us in. We know you are in there!" came a muffled yell.
#pgx179
The four of us sprung up the staircase out of the basement, Videntus wheezily following behind. Apparently the guard decided that they would humour us no more; I heard the distinct sound of a body smashing against wood and realised
#pgx180
they were going to attempt to break it down. How ever sturdily built the seer's heavily set oak door was, it wouldn't keep them out for ever.
"Where is Daniella?" Videntus cried, looking around frantically. "Dani, My niece, my beloved
#pgx181
niece..." he choked, trying to summon words
"It seems your beloved niece betrayed us," Evan growled. Videntus looked stricken.
"She would never-"
"It doesn't matter," Dawn cut through the argument."What matters is how we
#pgx182
are going to get out alive."
Evan turned to Videntus, his face rough face weary with grimness and guilt.
"I fear we have brought you trouble old man. I'm sorry,"
"Don't be," Videntus whispered firmly as he grasped
#pgx183
Evan's wrist. "You have reminded me not all of us sit on stone thrones with our hearts stonier still. You have reminded me there are still some people who wish to do good in the world. And for that I thank you. Find the Spawner. Destroy it. You
#pgx184
must."
"First thing's first, we need to get the hell out of here," Ellen said, taking a step back from the door. As another guard rammed into it, the heavy wood gave a painful groan at the hinges, but somehow held. Evan winced as a splinter of wood
#pgx185
went flying.
"Perhaps you have a tunnel leading out of here?" Ellen asked.
Videntus shook his head solemnly.
"Maybe a roof exit?" Dawn asked desperately. Again, the seer shook his head. I glanced at the battered, abused door barely
#pgx186
clinging on to its frame, the multitude of locks and bolts creaking under the extreme pounding they were submitted to. We were running out of time.
"Alright, sink to the wall and wait for them to come in. Then we jump them," Evan ordered, his voice
#pgx187
taking on the hard, militant tone of the commander he had once no doubt been. Nobody questioned it; we were out of options. "Videntus, keep 'em occupied. We'll do the rest."
The four of us put our backs to the wall with the door, me and Dawn on one
#pgx188
side, Evan and Ellen on the other. Even in the half lit shadow of a room, I could see the fear tracing the face of the girl next to me. She tried to hide it. But I knew it was there. Because I Dawn. And I also knew that she would seldom admit it even if
#pgx189
she were standing in the very throne room before Skiamance himself.
We flattened ourselves against the wall, not daring to breath. Not a second too soon. The door gave way with an ear-splitting crash, showering the place with dust and
#pgx190
splinters. Videntus shielded his face and staggered back as a few guards crammed into the tiny space. As Evan expected, none of them looked back.
One of the guards, an officer by the looks of his numerous badges and medals, stepped towards Videntus,
#pgx191
towering over the old man. I have to say in credit to the seer that despite the guard's cruel glare and intimidating frame he did not flinch or shrink back. If anything, Videntis' attitude made up for his lack in height.
"And what do you think you are
#pgx192
doing?" he snapped, stepping right into the guard's face. "How dare you come into my abode so forcefully? Do you suppose doors like this come cheap? Perhaps I'll get the captain of your side of the town to deduct it from your wages. Oh then you'll think
#pgx193
twice about knocking people's doors to splinters! Speaking of which, under what authority do you come here with the liberties of destroying my property? Hmm?" By the end of his rant he was almost standing on tiptoes. I would have laughed if
#pgx194
the situation wasn't so perilous.
The guard's face was a snarling mask, his brutally scarred features frozen in shock. After a second he tried to speak, but words failed him as they stuck in his throat. He tried again.
"Perhaps if you
#pgx195
opened the door when we asked you, things would have been different," the officer growled.
"Like you gave me any warning!" Videntus cried indignantly. "An old man does not have the body of an athlete you know. I cannot fly like a Ghast, be
#pgx196
damned,"
I wasn't sure who was surprised at Videntus' swearing; me or the guard. Apparently the latter thought that he should start again.
"I come under the authority of Lord Skiamance, the Walker of Shadows, member of the High
#pgx197
Council of Magorien, Emperor and rightful ruler of this land. We come to deliver justice. You," the guard spat as he jabbed a finger in the seer's direction, "have been reported to be harbouring people highly sought after the law."
Videntus
#pgx198
paled.
"Daniella," he muttered.
"Your niece demanded that you will be spared. Hand them over quietly and you will walk away with your life,"
Videntus' golden blue eyes locked on mine, then Evan's. I glanced at Evan, who held
#pgx199
up three fingers. A signal.
"So what will it be?" the officer snarled menacingly. One finger went down.
"Oh-oh-f course... Who am I... Wh-who am I to stand.. Stand in the way of justice..." Videntus stammered, playing for time. A second finger
#pgx200
went down.
"Answer!" the guard bellowed, the sound amplified in the tiny space. Videntus swallowed nervously.
"Behind you," he said in a small voice.
"Do you take me for a fool?" the officer snarled savagely as he stepped
#pgx201
offensively close to the old man. A flicker of a smile passed over Videntus' face.
"As a matter of fact, yes."
"NOW!" Evan bellowed and Videntus kicked the officer without hesitation. Due to the placement of the kick, the guard crumpled
#pgx202
instantly, his face draining of colour and his face a mask of shock. Dawn smashed another guard over the head with a chair, and I caught a glance of Evan elbowing one in the head, the soldier crumpling unconscious to the floor. Ellen
#pgx203
jumped on another one's back and they both tumbled to the ground, knocking over tables in a dusty trail of destruction as they rolled, trying to gain the upper hand.
I tackled my guard; a scrawny, lanky wretch whose armour hung about him
#pgx204
loosely, barely older than a boy, and he tumbled into a table. The lad smashed his head against the sharp corner and instantly passed out cold. I stood up and examined him, dusting my hands on my trousers. I hated all Imperial guardsmen almost as much
#pgx205
as I hated Gareth. As far as I was concerned, they were all cocky, arrogant jerks who threw their weight around, joining up for the glory and the power and the chance to be violent lawfully in our shattered, corrupted, evil
#pgx206
mess of a world. Looking at the boy, his face pale and haggard, barely my age, led me to believe this wasn't perhaps always the case.
Finally, when the guards were passed out, moaning heaps on the floor, we stood by the remains on the doorway, bidding
#pgx207
Videntus fair well.
"Thank you old man," Evan said, nodding his gratitude. "We owe you a debt that perhaps can never be repaid."
Videntus shook his head, his mismatched eyes sparkling with sincerity.
"No," he whispered, tears in his eyes.
#pgx208
"Thank you. You reminded me not all is lost in our world. Thank you. Now leave, quickly, and Notch speed!"
The pair shook hands, and with a final word of farewell we stepped into the street. Not glancing at the ends of the street to
#pgx209
check it was safe, we stepped out of the doorway, into the setting sunlight...
... And into the waiting hands of a dozen Imperial soldiers, spread out and surrounding the wretched house in a rough semi-circle. A trap. As soon as the realisation came
#pgx210
that these were not town guards but trained military, almost immediately came the feeling of total hopelessness. What now? At the head stood a figure, obviously not a soldier, yet still radiating authority. The stranger's hood was drawn up, his
#pgx211
face hidden in shadow and his earth-coloured cloak swirling around his feet.
"Expecting someone else?" the stranger drawled, smiling. The whole world seemed to have stopped, frozen in time forever as if it were never to restart
#pgx212
again. Or perhaps it was us, disconnected from the world. To have come all this way, only to end it here.
"You have been caught," the stranger said simply, the triumph on his face much like that of a cat which had finally caught a
#pgx213
particularly irksome mouse. "The game is up."
"It hasn't even begun," I growled, drawing Stormsteel. Behind me I heard the reassuring sounds of three swords being drawn, one albeit hesitantly. Probably Ellen. I knew how much she
#pgx214
hated fighting with a sword.
A short officer, dressed in Imperial armour and adorned with a flowing crimson cloak, scurried up to the hooded man. No doubt the commander of this force. And this was not in their script.
"Lord Raz'iel," Red
#pgx215
Cloak muttered nervously. He took a handkerchief from a pocket and wiped his forehead, which was sheened with a film of sweat. "What do we do?"
Raz'iel fixed his eyes on me. Then he caught sight of my sword and his expression
#pgx216
hardened.
"Impossible..." murmured Raz'iel, for the first time taken aback.
After a second of silence he came to a decision and gave a derisive nod. The arrogant, sickening smile had returned again.
#pgx217
"You wish to fight Darien Smith?" he mused. "A fight you shall have." With that he clapped his hands together and vanished in a shadow wave, a rolling wall of darkness that lingered for a moment before dissipating into fine mist, quickly
#pgx218
swallowed by the sharp, evening air.
As one, the soldiers drew their swords, all except Red Cloak who roared and started to back away.
"Spare the boy, kill the others!"
"Keep formation, keep together. If you get stranded, try to
#pgx219
fight your way back to the others," Evan said through gritted teeth, his expression determined. We looked at each other for a second, sharing a look that explained more than a thousand words could. And, together, we charged.
We crashed into
#pgx220
the enemy ranks, hacking away at the soldiers with a burning ferocity. Despite their trained appearance, they offered only a little more challenge than the guards, as what was meant to be a well oiled, military machine crumbled under the sheer
#pgx221
aggression of our assault.
Part of their problem was Evan. The man fought like a wolf, moving with unbelievable skill and speed, every slash and parry accounted for. As I watched he became whirling, spinning hurricane of slashes, stabs
#pgx222
and feints that he pieced together like a game of chess; the enemy had no idea what was happening until he put all the moves together and sent them crumpling onto the cobbled streets.
In fact, I wasn't doing too badly myself, as long as I kept my
#pgx223
concentration. I slashed to my right, at the same time covering Ellen as she went for a stab, before swinging out of the way of a blade. The whole battle was like this- chaotic, confusing, jumbled.
I was aware of Ellen and Dawn covering my sides, also
#pgx224
hacking and slashing away. The air was filled with a great and terrible song of steel; a deadly dance in which you won or died.
Only around a quarter of the soldiers remained. The rest were sprawled on the street, either
#pgx225
dead or injured. I tried to wound, not kill, which slowed me down, but apparently Evan was well used to death and swung the killing blow without hesitation and a hard glint in his eyes. I may be a law-breaker but I wasn't ready to become a killer quite
#pgx226
yet.
Behind me I heard Dawn's unmistakable cry.
"STOP OR SHE DIES" Raz'iel bellowed behind us. I spun around. There he was, holding a dagger at Dawns throat, his face flushed and livid. What remained of the army
#pgx227
retreated carefully before starting to encircle us again.
"You fight well, Smith," Raz'iel said with a forced grin. To me it looked more like a grimace. "Too well. Now drop your weapons. That's right... slowly and with care,"
Without hesitation,
#pgx228
I let Stormsteel slip out of my grip and it clattered onto stone with a metallic dzang, the sound fading away, swallowed by the silence. Ellen's sword followed. Evan was the last. He kept his eyes on Raz'iel, the irises hard and stony and cold as a
#pgx229
mountain.
"You will drop your weapons," Raz'iel repeated, pressing the dagger to Dawn's throat with more force. "And you will come with me. Quickly. Quietly. And if not... you all die here, starting with this beautiful, young friend of yours."
#pgx230
"Drop it," I said my voice quivering with anger. Not at Evan though. At Raz'iel, at the soldiers, at Skiamance. At eveything. Evan hurled his blade at the ground where it bounced several feet before coming to rest.
"Take it. I hope you
#pgx231
choke on it," he spat at Raz'iel.
The mage only smiled as he released Dawn and pushed her into our group.
"Well what have we here?" he asked, his hands clasped behind his back, apparently unthreatened now that we were disarmed. "Darien
#pgx232
Smith and a few of his friends."
He stopped in front of Ellen, who glared at him with barely disguised contempt. "A petty thief, nothing more. I'm afraid you won't score me any points with my master." He moved onto Dawn and gave a tsk tsk. "Beautiful
#pgx233
young lady as you are, you are however simply a village girl from another poor district. Nothing new there." Raz'iel then stood in front of me. He radiated evil. Not just darkness or hatred or Notch knows what else, but evil. Pure. Untainted. No sense
#pgx234
of remorse or guilt, not the slightest form of a conscience.
"The Great Darien Smith," he sneered, his tone mocking. "Oh yes, my Lord will reward me greatly for your capture. He has been absolutely burning to meet you,"
"Better keep a bucket of water
#pgx235
handy," Evan snorted. "In case he gets so excited he'll spontaneously combust."
The mage's eyes settled on Evan, who stared back defiantly. Raz'iel's arrogant expression morphed into astonishment.
"My my," he
#pgx236
taunted. "My Lord Skiamance will be glad to see you again."
"I suppose he would," Evan answered. "What about you? Last I saw you, you were Shadow Walker's right hand man. Look at you, doing the grunt work." The northerner smirked. "Herobrine
#pgx237
knocked you off the pedestal? Does he now dance on tiptoes and jest in front of the Dark Lord instead of you? A circus, that's what your great government is. Just swords and circuses."
Raz'iel's face flushed angrily.
"Oh for your
#pgx238
arrival I will jump back onto that pedestal you talk of, fly onto it with wings. And Lord Skiamance will see Herobrine for who he truly is- a backstabbing, slimy traitor who will thinks nothing of his master albeit the amount of emerald in his
#pgx239
treasury."
"So you a nicer copy of you then?" Evan guessed. Despite our situation, I had to force myself not to laugh. Where did the guy train his harsh tongue of steel? As it was, I managed to disguise my laughing as a heavy cough.
Raz'iel ignored
#pgx240
the jibe, opting instead to ring out orders.
"Tie their hands so they do not... ah, try anything. Except for this one," he nodded at me.
I knew he was goading me, but the taunt was too sweet to resist.
"You think I can't take you?" I asked,
#pgx241
trying to sound uninterested.
"Perhaps," he replied offhandedly. His eyes looked cold."Or perhaps I just want to see how much you value your friend's lives. Now march, outlaws, to Tener Castrum," Raz'iel suddenly smirked."I am sure you will
#pgx242
enjoy the view."
#pgx243
Chapter 24: Family Business
#pgx244
I had been in bad situations before. We all had. But his wasn't just a
bad situation. This was a bad, bad situation. Here we were, marching
through the streets of the capital surrounded by guards, with Raz'iel
himself leading the way.
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Any other time, I would have been thrilled to walk through Fortin's twisting streets full of traders and merchants, beautiful mismatched buildings, a mixture of ancient and modern architecture that would have looked out of place anywhere but
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here, great multi-coloured stalls overflowing with flowers. Tall church spires reached into the sky as if to grab hold of it's height and never let go.
But even Fortin's magnificence couldn't take away the terrible dread that I felt.
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As we passed, people in the street scooted out of the way, eyes fearful. It made me feel uneasy.That, and the fact that we were now walking towards the most darkest and horrible part of the capital- Tener Castrum, the Dark Castle.
The castle was
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perched on the shoulder of the hill like a raven- dark and out of place, ever watchful of the world beneath. It's walls were made of huge slabs of obsidian, polished, gleaming mirrors which reflected the world in a terrible dark light.
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Perhaps, I thought grimly, that reflection was more accurate than how our eyes perceived the world. I didn't know how it was built, but I sensed tragedy. Somebody had died in the process.
Involuntarily, my pace faltered. The point of a blade prodded
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into my back.
"Walk," Raz'iel hissed impatiently.
It took us a while, but eventually we arrived. A couple of guards- Skiamance's personal force by the looks of it, opened the huge gates and allowed passage through. At once, our group was
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approached by another cloaked and hooded man. A small part of me that wasn't consumed in terror thought these guys should seriously reconsider their fashion sense. As he looked up, my heart almost stopped. His glowing white eyes were difficult to
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forget, painted across the pages of history books, some too dark for child's eyes to read. Those eyes had seen the deaths of thousands. They had torn the world apart during the Shadow Days. It were those eyes that put a barrier between
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Damon and Stephan, those terrible white eyes forming a once good man into what became Skiamance the Shadow Walker.
"Master Herobrine," Raz'iel said bitterly. "Let us pass." Herobrine gave a sly, coy smile, sliding closer to us.
"I think you'll find
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it is now Lord Herobrine," he said in a sweet voice that projected faked innocence.
"As you wish," Raz'iel replied stiffly.
"Of course," Herobrine went on, "I will allow you to pass. We are friends are we not? However..."
Herobrine paused
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theatrically and gave an exaggerated frown.
"Lord Skiamance is simply in the most brilliant of moods today," he said, his tone and words dripping with staged sympathy. "So I am sure you will get along so grandly, especially since it
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took you so little time to find our little friends." With that, Herobrine gave a scathing laugh and drifted away, his empty, glowing eyes glittering with amusement.
Whatever Herobrine had meant, it clearly unhinged Raz'iel. The mage closed his
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eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
After several deep breaths he brought himself under control. For some reason, the scene reminded me of home; that day Gareth had threatened to frame Dawn if I didn't hand him the money, the day before this
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whole mess began. If I didn't hate his guts so much I might have felt sorry for him.
"Follow," he snapped, and stalked away deeper into the castle. Given the unfriendly glare of Red Cloak and what was left of his force behind us, we didn't really have
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much choice.
We were brought into a massive chamber, the huge doors closing behind us. It seemed eerie how such a gigantic slab of wood could move so silently and fall into place with barely a whisper.
The first thing that struck me were
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the paintings. Glancing at them, I caught my breath. They hung around the throne room, magnificent and beautiful. Unlike most paintings I had seen before, they were not made of intricate brush marks, a carefully crafted scene frozen
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forever in time. Instead, it was a whirl of colour, each rough brush stroke bringing the scenes of mountains they portrayed to life with a raw, natural power that breathed life from each splash of paint to every strike of the brush. I could almost
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imagine the mountains shimmering with life. It was unlike everything I had ever seen before.
Sitting in an ornamented throne was the man himself. He looked slightly older than the man in my dream. I instantly recognised him, not by his
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appearance- he still looked young- but by his eyes. His eyes still had the fury. They still had that dancing, crazy, flickering light that gave the impression of a merciless forest fire; a torrent of rage that will never stop until it has annihilated
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all that stands in it's path. He was dressed simply but regally, with a dark, flowing cloak and dark clothes. I caught sight of a metallic glint on his neck, but the he adjusted his cloak and the necklace slipped out of sight.
I glanced at the
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paintings again. Strange, I wondered, how such beauty could be in the presence of such evil. Perhaps it was a reminder that every beautiful thing had a dark side. Or maybe it was the other way around. That the darkness felt the need to cloak
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itself with beauty to make itself seem more likeable, more
civilised.
Upon spotting us Skiamance let out a low laugh. The sound was harsh and cold, without a trace of humour.
We said nothing. I dared a small glance at Evan. He was
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staring at Skiamance with perhaps the most hatred I had ever seen on the face of a human being. Once again, my thoughts drifted to the scar tracing it's way from his temple to his neck, once again wondering how he received the injury.
Skiamance looked
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surprised.
"My, my..." he started in a mocking tone. "Why the sour faces?"
Under the mocking sarcasm there was something else... An undertone of malicious resentment that made me shiver. Skiamance then turned his cutting gaze to Raz'iel.
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"So apparently you are not completely useless," he said, something akin to approval lacing his voice. Raz'iel did nothing but bow his head.
"But no matter," Skiamance continued. "You will be rewarded soon enough. Leave us now, and see to
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it the seer's niece receives her thanks. Lord Skiamance does not let a debt go unpaid."
Raz'iel tried to protest.
"My Lord-"
"Go," said Skiamance, a cold edge entering his voice. The mage obliged, and as soon as the doors
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swung shut behind him with a simple flick of Skiamance's wrist, he leaned back in his throne and surveyed us with interest. Almost as if he couldn't decide what to do with us now we were here.
"What do you want?" I managed to say, mostly just to
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break the silence. But my tone sounded angry and accusing. It was stupid. This guy could kill me in so many ways it would take me a week to count them all. But for some reason his presence made me feel angry... Agitated. Skiamance's actions and iron
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rule had affected my life for much longer than the events that had occurred in the past few days. I had every right to hate him.
A thin smile spread across his face, almost as if he knew something I didn't. The insane fire in his eyes glowed more
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brightly, until I realised that his eyes were actually burning. The irises flickered with a red tint, a firestorm of fury erupting for an instant before immediately being extinguished once again by the intense grey. It was a strange shade of
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grey though. Not vibrant, like storm clouds, but cold and dark- the colour of an ocean on an overcast day. Like sea ice. Vast. Frightening. Not betraying the merest inkling of what lay beneath its cold waters. So conflicted. I could
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almost imagine his being tearing itself apart, his flames colliding with Nethrius' bitter, fiery ice.
He began to clap, slowly and mockingly.
"Where are your manners boy?" he sneered, easing back into the throne. He stared at me for a
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second with that penetrating, cold gaze. I realised I had clenched my hands again, and quickly forced the fingers apart before my nails could draw blood.
"Really... " Skiamance continued in the same mocking tone. "What an unpleasant way to greet your
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Godfather."
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Chapter 25: Perhaps Not My Greatest Hour
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It took a moment for the words to sink in. Another moment to understand
them. And another second for the anger to come.
"No..." I said horrified, shaking my head. How? How could this be? For
as long as I lived I prayed for family, but now it seemed I
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wished I never had. My cursed luck never escaped me. Or perhaps I would never escape it. Skiamance, of all people. My thoughts drifted to Monetia. Did she know? She must. She Who Warned knew all along.
Skiamance seemed bemused.
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"You are wondering, perhaps, how you came to have the most powerful man alive for a relation?"
"No," I said, my voice strained. "I'm wondering how my father came to choose a monster for a godfather."
A moment of heavy silence, quickly
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broken by Skiamance's wry laughter.
"Perhaps I am a monster," he agreed. "Like a fairytale myth. Respected yet feared, magnificent stuff of legends. Something, perhaps akin to a dragon." He smiled again, sending fresh stabs of
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fury coursing through me.
"Really?" Evan laughed beside me. He gave a comical expression of thought. "Don't think so. From this vantage point you remind me more of a Ghast."
Skiamance glanced at Evan in irritation and was about to open
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his mouth, probably to give the order to take him away, when he froze. The Emperor's eyes narrowed as they settled on his scar.
"Why, my friend, it has been a long time," Skiamance said eventually.
I frowned as I looked at Evan again.
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Beside him, Dawn's face mirrored my own confusion. Only Ellen seemed unsurprised. Meanwhile Evan was grinning mockingly.
"Long time indeed," he said, smiling crookedly. "How's your chest healing up?"
"Better than your
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face," Skiamance observed, smirking. "Your wound never even left a scar. A pitiful attempt, if I say so myself."
"I fared better than most," Evan argued. Skiamance considered, then nodded.
"I suppose you did. May I ask how you
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escaped?"
"No, you may not."
"Very well," Skiamance said, waving his hand. "Take these to the dungeon. I wish to speak to my godson alone." Suddenly Skiamance paused, smiling cruelly. "But surely Evandrus, you know the way?"
"Actually, I tried
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fairly hard to forget," Evan said sourly. "Not really my greatest hour, that. And I think your lackeys might be more comfortable if I had an escort."
He turned on his heel and strode out of the door, a confused Dawn and Ellen following behind
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and a couple of guards melting out of the shadows behind them. Several of tense, silent minutes passed. Suddenly I wished they didn't leave. I didn't want to be on my own with this dark, dangerous stranger.
"So?" I asked bitterly.
Skiamance said
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nothing. He leaned back again, surveying me strangely. Without a doubt, he looked like a ruler, with that regal posture, the hard, close to emotionless face. Skiamance radiated power. His coal black hair looked messy and unruly, somewhat at odds with
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the regal look. The sort of messy hair that whispered of laughter and easy smiles, not sitting on a throne of stone with a heart of ice. He might have been a looker too, if it weren't for those eyes burning with hate.
"Are you a fool, Darien?" he asked
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quietly.
Unable to understand what motivated his question, I shook my head. Nodding slowly, he reached into his cloak, a pocket on the inside, and for just a moment, he exposed the chain around his neck again. I glimpsed a ring, and froze. The ring
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gave off evil. I could almost feel the malice dripping off the thing like poison. But before I could dwell on it further, he adjusted his collar and it slipped once again out of sight.
He held out something in his hand. Another chain, a small pendant
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swinging from idly.
"Perhaps you would wish to join me?"
The proposal was so abrupt, so sudden, I felt lost. I burst out laughing, my laughter ringing out cold and dark in the chamber.
"Me?" I managed. "Join you? What, after you tried to kill me
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Notch knows how many times?"
He just shrugged.
"We are only human. People make mistakes."
Yes, I thought. People did. But you're not human, not anymore. And when you used to be, you made the greatest mistake of all, the one that
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nobody should ever make. The un-makable deal.
"Forgive me if I'm not jumping with joy at the prospect," I said coldly, my dark humour subsiding.
And what was I doing here anyway, talking in jest with the biggest evil this world knew? It didn't
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matter he was my godfather, not really. Skiamance was still a stranger. But on the other hand, as long as I was talking I was alive, and so were my friends.
"The world is broken," Skiamance said, the smile fading. "And I will fix it."
My skin
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tingled. Those words sounded eerily familiar. Where had I heard them before? Then it hit me. The wall. Just after we jumped the wall in Istenmire, I had turned around, glanced at the scrawled writing hastily chalked up on stone, dismissed
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it, forgot it. How had he known?
"That's a tall order," I called up to him. "Considering you were the one who broke it."
"You said you were no fool Darien," Skiamance mocked. "So prove it. Join me."
I glanced again at the slender chain in
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his hand, a small pendant dangling in the air. I was about to tell him off, and say no, before he spoke the words that changed everything.
"Complete and total control. Power beyond imagination. You can change the world to your liking Darien, bend it
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to your will. All you have to do is take it. My asset, my other asset, he will give you similar power I have now."
Only the first words fully registered. Power beyond imagination. The words rang in my head, refusing to go away. Why not?
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Part of me thought. How many times did I dream to make the world better, to rid the world of injustice, like the fact rich cats like Gareth counted their coin while good souls like Hugo barely scraped by? How many times did I dream of a better life,
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not just for me but for everybody, frustrated at my powerlessness? I could take the pendant. I could fix the world, give money to those that lacked it, strike down those that deserved it. I could make a better world.
If I took it, it would
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be a good thing, a moral thing, because with that power, I would only do good things and moral things. Oh, Skiamance was evil, but ruling at his side... When the time came... Surely ridding the world of another evil was a moral thing? Even if was
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murder? And how many others had Skiamance himself murdered? All I had to do was reach out and take it, and no more poverty, no more homeless folk on the streets, no more Skiamance's iron grip on the South of the realm. People said life wasn't fair. Why
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couldn't I make it fairer, more just?
Monetia's words came back to me. A choice. War is coming like a storm.
And I could prevent it. Wasn't that what she said? That it was my destiny? I could take the pendant, take it and rule my Godfather's
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servant and I could prevent the war, I could save the North. I would save the world and build it anew, better and greater than before. Was that such a bad thing? An evil thing? To do one wrong act in order to do so many other right ones?
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Almost against my own will, I streched forward, reaching to take the chain out of Skiamance's hand.
***
I suppose what saved me was the mirror. Glancing at my reflection in the polished glass hanging on the wall beside Skiamance,
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I froze in my tracks.
The stranger in the mirror had dark hair, a shade of brown that could easily be mistaken for black in the shadows. His grey, stormy eyes were strangely blank and clouded. There was something scary in those eyes, something that
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made me shiver. He may have been fairly handsome, but that stranger reminded me of someone. The person sitting so close, just beside the mirror. His face was a twisted power-hungry mask not unlike the one Skiamance wore, which slowly morphed
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into horror as I realised with a jolt just who that stranger in the mirror was. No, not me, that can't be me. I was painfully aware of my hand still outstretched, inches from the chain. No. Get back. Get away. Get back dammit.
Yanking my hand
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away, I took a step back, looking down at my fingers. They were trembling. How close I came to giving myself over to the same power that took Skiamance haunts me to this day. I still shudder to think of how little I had to stretch to reach the thing,
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how little space there was till the end of the world.
Breathing heavily, I gazed down at the floor, pinching the bridge of my nose like Raz'iel and trying to bring myself back under control. Some family reunion.
The Emperor looked vaguely
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surprise.
"No?" he mused, tucking the chain back into a pocket. "If you knew what was good for you, you would agree."
"Well I obviously don't do I?" I answered breathlessly, still looking down at the floor.
He simply sighed,
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clapping once, and a Raz'iel and Red Cloak appeared along with half a dozen other guards.
"Take Mr.Smith to the dungeon, away from the others. Call Master... No, Lord Herobrine here, for we must discuss certain matters. And please, in the name
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of Notch-the-creater make sure they do not escape."
Raz'iel nodded his assent and gave me a murderous glare. As we began to out of the giant doors, Skiamance called out,
"And Darien?"
Reluctantly, I stopped and turned
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around.
"Tomorrow when your friends die, I urge you to reconsider my proposal."
With that, he flicked his wrist and the oaken doors slammed behind us with a loud, echoing BOOM.
***
Herobrine drifted into the throne room.
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He glanced at his master with a coy smile. Skiamance seemed troubled, his expression one of deep brooding.
"I take it things did not go to plan?" Herobrine inquired in a honey-sweet voice, sliding across the polished stone towards the
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throne, fingers arched together in front of him as he studied his master.
"He did not take it..." Skiamance shook his head in slight disbelieve, eyes fixed on the heavy oak door. "He started to, reached out even, but did not take it. Why...? I
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wonder."
The Emperor snapped out of his dark and troubled thoughts, once again assuming the leading role he had momentarily slipped out of. He stirred and sat up straighter, glaring down upon his servant.
"What do your
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sources tell us?"
Herobrine gave a knowing smile, causing Skiamance's eyes to narrow in mistrust.
"What sources my Lord?" he asked innocently. Skiamance opened his mouth to speak, but immediately closed it. Now was not the time to deal with
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Herobrine's irksome qualities. After all, a servant of darkness, especially so skilled in magic, was useful. Even if he did often play deceit. I would know, a small voice said in the back of Skiamance's mind. I would know if his loyalties change.
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Instead of voicing argument, Skiamance waved his hand impatiently, his voice laced with grudging frustration.
"You are dismissed."
Lord Herobrine, with an air of indifference, drifted out of his master's sight. Once out of the dark chamber, he
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allowed himself a brief chuckle before setting off into his quarters, to his allotted tower.
As the Lord of Shadows let himself in, he glanced at the huge form of his assistant taking temporary residence in Herobrine's office. The
#pgx326
servant of the servant, Herobrine thought to himself. The hulking mass of Flynt the Crimson was difficult to miss.
"What was that all about?" Crimson asked with a yawn. Leaning back in a chair, he carelessly popped his boots on the desk. He cared
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nothing for manners or courtesies. But Flynt Crimson was a mercenary, and a particularly influential one at that. Herobrine was no fool. He understood the worth of such people.
"The Shadow Walker inquired about my
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sources," Herobrine replied, his face giving no sign of the disapproval he felt. His blank, glowing eyes flashed dangerously before regaining control.
"What I don't understand," said Flynt, placing his hands behind his head and relaxing
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into the chair, "is why you go to this trouble of covering all this mess up. Why not just tell Skiamance everything the spies tell us, win his trust, get his approval, la-di- da-di-da, all that stuff, and so on."
This time, Herobrine truly smiled and
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pointed a disapproving finger in Crimson's direction. He said out loud what should have been obvious.
"Ah... But if they are my spies, it does not mean they are Skiamance's also."