Pheidippides
Pheidippides
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- Posted: Sat, 19 Feb 2005 21:08:56 +0000
<center>Mistaken Destiny
Chapter 1: Lost Brother, Found</center>
The sun slowly sank closer to the horizon. In another hour, it would disappear beneath the sky. The clouds shone a brilliant orange, and the high cliffs reflected the light, the never-ending color extending eternally. The only exception a man, dressed completely in gray, crouching on the crest of the precipice. He had a black eye patch over his left eye, and from it stemmed a large blue vein, riding up his forehead and meeting his gray hairline, stopping at his skull and sinking down. His hair stood up, tilting slightly to the side. As he looked around, pivoting his head left and right, it would move softly, also blowing in the light winds. His hair color one of his many oddities, as the man looked to be only 21 years of age. His baggy dark gray jacket covered a thin white shirt that stopped just shy of his bellybutton, causing his stomach to be slightly exposed. His long gray slacks were neatly creased; a surprise compared to his wrinkled and beat up jacket. On his left a sword hung from a belt that wrapped around his waist; a lengthy blade, but surprisingly thin, with a slight curve encompassing the whole sword. The actual surface of the sword remained hidden from view by a sheath. He rested his hand on the hilt, looking down below for signs of anyone.
He saw a traveler beneath him, on the ground under the ridge. "Right on time," he whispered just loud enough to hear himself.
The man jumped from the crag he stood on to the one beneath him, and then down to the next, continuing down the mountain face in this manner. He kept his left hand on the hilt of his sword however, as if wary of an ambush. As the vision of the figure below him enlarged, he identified it as the person he quested for. The man leapt down a few more times, observing his target carefully. He didn't appear to be a day over 16, and looked to have the confidence to match. The clumps of hair on his head bounced softly as he rode his horse, the locks of blue swaying with the motion. He wore a black traveler's shirt, covered with pockets. Many of them were full of miscellaneous items. His baggy, black pants ruffled in the wind as he rode at a leisurely jaunt, leaning back in the saddle slightly. The boy held the reins loosely in his hands. He wore a lazy smile on his face, soaking in the last of the quickly fading sunlight.
The man in gray jumped off of the final ledge, landing before the horse, which reared up, kicking its legs in surprise. The boy fell off, rubbing the back of his neck and getting up slowly. He walked around the right side of his horse, seeing the man in gray crouched in front of him.
"Hey! What do you think you are doing? You could've hurt my horse!" The boy rubbed his horse's muzzle, looking at the man, who slowly turned his head, facing the boy. His eye patch seemed to shift slightly as he did so, but only by a little. He stood up, letting his arms hang down as he did. He moved the rest of his body towards the boy, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword again.
"You are my brother," the man started slowly, in a quiet voice that seemed to pierce the soul. "And I have come to kill you." He finished his statement with a cold breath escaping his lips. A momentary silence ensued between the two.
"No, my brother is dead. He was captured and killed by the evil lords years ago, you can't be him," The boy replied confusedly. "You can't be him," he repeated, letting his sentence hang.
"Not killed, hired." The man in gray raised his hand, the palm turning white and then cyan. A sharp tip of ice started to slowly emerge from the skin. Suddenly, a massive icicle shot out of his arm like a bullet, flying towards the boy. It penetrated his chest, smashing his heart. The end stuck through his back, maroon from the blood that slowly dripped down to the ground.
The boy's pupils shrank as he fell to the ground, landing on his back. The shard slowly pushed out of the wound from the impact. It slid out, exposing the four-inch hole in his chest. He drew a shaky breath as the ice melted, the water diluting the blood. The man in gray lowered his hand as it slowly turned back to the skin's peachy color.
"Goodnight...Qurez," he said quietly, turning his back to the body and walking east, the setting sun shining on his back.
The figure faded from view on the horizon just as the sky darkened from the departure of the sunlight. Qurez lie on the ground, twitching slightly; blood leaking from his mouth, making a small trail down his chin. The ice had torn a gap in one of this chest pockets, and a small bottle inside the pouch had broken open. The liquid inside began to seep over the wound, halting the flow of blood. Qurez regained consciousness for a moment, leaving his eyes closed.
"So, this is how it ends eh? Oh well...it was goodwhile it...lasted," he mumbled softly, relaxing his whole body.
A woman in a cloak walked along the path Qurez had ridden on, looking up at the moon. The light shined on the woman's face, revealing her features. Her night black hair flowed down, stopping just short of the hips. Her long face accentuated the hair's length, with small lips and a pointed chin. The shade of her eyes so dark, telling the pupil from the iris could be deemed impossible. The cloak went down to her knees, the tops of her boots peeking out from under it. She noticed Qurez's body to the side of the path and gasped loudly. She looked around to see if she could spot who had done this. Noticing nothing out of the ordinary, she walked up to him and crouched down, poking his cheek with a nearby stick. He nudged against it and she jumped back.
"He's alive?" she gasped again. "But how?" she asked herself, staring at the huge hole in his chest. She thought for a moment, pondering as to what to do. "Might as well try..." She put her hands over the wound. A white light radiated from the gap, glowing brightly enough to be seen across the plains. The light died down to soft pulses, going slightly faster than once every second. The blood began to flow again, circulating in and around the light as it pumped the blood through the body. Qurez took in a deep breath and regained himself, his eyes opening slowly.
He looked at the girl and crawled backwards quickly. "Who are you?" he asked her accusingly.
She scoffed and put one arm at her side, pointing at him with the other. "That's no way to talk to someone who saved your life!" she said in a bossy tone.
"Oh..." He coughed, spitting up a small amount of blood. "Sorry, and thanks," he said, locking eyes with his savior. "My name is Qurez, might I trouble you for yours?" He asked politely, crossing his legs, moving them to get feeling back into them.
"Kay," she replied, tossing her hair back. "Kay Valentine." She looked at his wound, still wide open. "So how did that happen?"
Qurez looked down at his chest, the hole gaping wide open with a strange light pumping his blood. "What the hell! What is that?" He asked her, his eyes widening in amazement
"It's just some light energy. I had it pump the blood like your heart, 'cause it's gone, in case you didn't notice," Kay said, as if it were obvious.
"Oh..." Qurez said, still fairly confused. He shook his head and tried to stand, but fell, still too weak to do so.
"So, how did that happen?" Kay asked him again, getting a little impatient.
"Well..." Qurez said thinking. "I thought I didn't have a brother anymore. His name was Thomas, but my mother sent him to a monastery before I was old enough to remember him, at least that's what she told me. Then, I heard he had had a run in with the evil lords and was captured and sentenced to death after killing six of their captains. But now...he's alive? Why would he attack me though?" he thought out loud.
Meanwhile, across the plains, the man in gray reached one of the castles of the evil lords. He continued his slow walk towards it, pushing the tall doors open. He walked up many winding staircases, his boots clapping against the stone. He finally reached the throne room of the evil lord who had captured him years past. The man approached the dark lord kneeling.
"I have killed my brother Lord Lyncyn, just as you instructed. Is the destiny shattered?" he asked him in an interrogatory tone.
"Not so fast Dusk," creeped a voice from the lord. "The destiny says someone from his bloodline will lead the decline of evil. He is your brother; no chances can be taken..."
"I already told you, he and I are not related; it only seems that way!" Dusk shouted, trying to prove his innocence. The lord snapped his fingers and guards flooded into the room, ready to attack Dusk.
"You...I served you well for five years. You can't just discard my life like this," he growled at his lord, putting a hand on the hilt of his sword.
"On the contrary," hissed the lord. "I can and I intend on doing so." The guards slowly advanced upon Dusk, setting their spears to stab him.
"You just made your last mistake Lyncyn," Dusk said, drawing his sword. Cyan light flared up behind his eye patch, which surrounded him in an ominous aura of blue. His hair began to tint from gray to blue, his sword's blade following suit. Dusk raised his left hand, holding the sword in his right. He drew his left arm back towards his body slowly, and then threw it forward, unleashing thousands of tiny ice shards, piercing the guards' armor, ripping them to shreds. Blood and gore flew wantonly around the room.
"And for you!" Dusk shouted, pointing the sword at his lord. The lord drew his own sword, standing in defense. Dusk charged him, moving his sword faster than the eye could trace. Pieces of his former master began to fall to the ground, Dusk's sword red with the blood. He turned around and looked across the room. The walls were smeared with blood, a one-inch pool of dark liquid settled on the floor, flowing down the staircases. He took the helmet from the decapitated head of his previous master and donned it, sitting on the throne.
"A new man shall reign over this land..."
Chapter 1: Lost Brother, Found</center>
The sun slowly sank closer to the horizon. In another hour, it would disappear beneath the sky. The clouds shone a brilliant orange, and the high cliffs reflected the light, the never-ending color extending eternally. The only exception a man, dressed completely in gray, crouching on the crest of the precipice. He had a black eye patch over his left eye, and from it stemmed a large blue vein, riding up his forehead and meeting his gray hairline, stopping at his skull and sinking down. His hair stood up, tilting slightly to the side. As he looked around, pivoting his head left and right, it would move softly, also blowing in the light winds. His hair color one of his many oddities, as the man looked to be only 21 years of age. His baggy dark gray jacket covered a thin white shirt that stopped just shy of his bellybutton, causing his stomach to be slightly exposed. His long gray slacks were neatly creased; a surprise compared to his wrinkled and beat up jacket. On his left a sword hung from a belt that wrapped around his waist; a lengthy blade, but surprisingly thin, with a slight curve encompassing the whole sword. The actual surface of the sword remained hidden from view by a sheath. He rested his hand on the hilt, looking down below for signs of anyone.
He saw a traveler beneath him, on the ground under the ridge. "Right on time," he whispered just loud enough to hear himself.
The man jumped from the crag he stood on to the one beneath him, and then down to the next, continuing down the mountain face in this manner. He kept his left hand on the hilt of his sword however, as if wary of an ambush. As the vision of the figure below him enlarged, he identified it as the person he quested for. The man leapt down a few more times, observing his target carefully. He didn't appear to be a day over 16, and looked to have the confidence to match. The clumps of hair on his head bounced softly as he rode his horse, the locks of blue swaying with the motion. He wore a black traveler's shirt, covered with pockets. Many of them were full of miscellaneous items. His baggy, black pants ruffled in the wind as he rode at a leisurely jaunt, leaning back in the saddle slightly. The boy held the reins loosely in his hands. He wore a lazy smile on his face, soaking in the last of the quickly fading sunlight.
The man in gray jumped off of the final ledge, landing before the horse, which reared up, kicking its legs in surprise. The boy fell off, rubbing the back of his neck and getting up slowly. He walked around the right side of his horse, seeing the man in gray crouched in front of him.
"Hey! What do you think you are doing? You could've hurt my horse!" The boy rubbed his horse's muzzle, looking at the man, who slowly turned his head, facing the boy. His eye patch seemed to shift slightly as he did so, but only by a little. He stood up, letting his arms hang down as he did. He moved the rest of his body towards the boy, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword again.
"You are my brother," the man started slowly, in a quiet voice that seemed to pierce the soul. "And I have come to kill you." He finished his statement with a cold breath escaping his lips. A momentary silence ensued between the two.
"No, my brother is dead. He was captured and killed by the evil lords years ago, you can't be him," The boy replied confusedly. "You can't be him," he repeated, letting his sentence hang.
"Not killed, hired." The man in gray raised his hand, the palm turning white and then cyan. A sharp tip of ice started to slowly emerge from the skin. Suddenly, a massive icicle shot out of his arm like a bullet, flying towards the boy. It penetrated his chest, smashing his heart. The end stuck through his back, maroon from the blood that slowly dripped down to the ground.
The boy's pupils shrank as he fell to the ground, landing on his back. The shard slowly pushed out of the wound from the impact. It slid out, exposing the four-inch hole in his chest. He drew a shaky breath as the ice melted, the water diluting the blood. The man in gray lowered his hand as it slowly turned back to the skin's peachy color.
"Goodnight...Qurez," he said quietly, turning his back to the body and walking east, the setting sun shining on his back.
The figure faded from view on the horizon just as the sky darkened from the departure of the sunlight. Qurez lie on the ground, twitching slightly; blood leaking from his mouth, making a small trail down his chin. The ice had torn a gap in one of this chest pockets, and a small bottle inside the pouch had broken open. The liquid inside began to seep over the wound, halting the flow of blood. Qurez regained consciousness for a moment, leaving his eyes closed.
"So, this is how it ends eh? Oh well...it was goodwhile it...lasted," he mumbled softly, relaxing his whole body.
A woman in a cloak walked along the path Qurez had ridden on, looking up at the moon. The light shined on the woman's face, revealing her features. Her night black hair flowed down, stopping just short of the hips. Her long face accentuated the hair's length, with small lips and a pointed chin. The shade of her eyes so dark, telling the pupil from the iris could be deemed impossible. The cloak went down to her knees, the tops of her boots peeking out from under it. She noticed Qurez's body to the side of the path and gasped loudly. She looked around to see if she could spot who had done this. Noticing nothing out of the ordinary, she walked up to him and crouched down, poking his cheek with a nearby stick. He nudged against it and she jumped back.
"He's alive?" she gasped again. "But how?" she asked herself, staring at the huge hole in his chest. She thought for a moment, pondering as to what to do. "Might as well try..." She put her hands over the wound. A white light radiated from the gap, glowing brightly enough to be seen across the plains. The light died down to soft pulses, going slightly faster than once every second. The blood began to flow again, circulating in and around the light as it pumped the blood through the body. Qurez took in a deep breath and regained himself, his eyes opening slowly.
He looked at the girl and crawled backwards quickly. "Who are you?" he asked her accusingly.
She scoffed and put one arm at her side, pointing at him with the other. "That's no way to talk to someone who saved your life!" she said in a bossy tone.
"Oh..." He coughed, spitting up a small amount of blood. "Sorry, and thanks," he said, locking eyes with his savior. "My name is Qurez, might I trouble you for yours?" He asked politely, crossing his legs, moving them to get feeling back into them.
"Kay," she replied, tossing her hair back. "Kay Valentine." She looked at his wound, still wide open. "So how did that happen?"
Qurez looked down at his chest, the hole gaping wide open with a strange light pumping his blood. "What the hell! What is that?" He asked her, his eyes widening in amazement
"It's just some light energy. I had it pump the blood like your heart, 'cause it's gone, in case you didn't notice," Kay said, as if it were obvious.
"Oh..." Qurez said, still fairly confused. He shook his head and tried to stand, but fell, still too weak to do so.
"So, how did that happen?" Kay asked him again, getting a little impatient.
"Well..." Qurez said thinking. "I thought I didn't have a brother anymore. His name was Thomas, but my mother sent him to a monastery before I was old enough to remember him, at least that's what she told me. Then, I heard he had had a run in with the evil lords and was captured and sentenced to death after killing six of their captains. But now...he's alive? Why would he attack me though?" he thought out loud.
Meanwhile, across the plains, the man in gray reached one of the castles of the evil lords. He continued his slow walk towards it, pushing the tall doors open. He walked up many winding staircases, his boots clapping against the stone. He finally reached the throne room of the evil lord who had captured him years past. The man approached the dark lord kneeling.
"I have killed my brother Lord Lyncyn, just as you instructed. Is the destiny shattered?" he asked him in an interrogatory tone.
"Not so fast Dusk," creeped a voice from the lord. "The destiny says someone from his bloodline will lead the decline of evil. He is your brother; no chances can be taken..."
"I already told you, he and I are not related; it only seems that way!" Dusk shouted, trying to prove his innocence. The lord snapped his fingers and guards flooded into the room, ready to attack Dusk.
"You...I served you well for five years. You can't just discard my life like this," he growled at his lord, putting a hand on the hilt of his sword.
"On the contrary," hissed the lord. "I can and I intend on doing so." The guards slowly advanced upon Dusk, setting their spears to stab him.
"You just made your last mistake Lyncyn," Dusk said, drawing his sword. Cyan light flared up behind his eye patch, which surrounded him in an ominous aura of blue. His hair began to tint from gray to blue, his sword's blade following suit. Dusk raised his left hand, holding the sword in his right. He drew his left arm back towards his body slowly, and then threw it forward, unleashing thousands of tiny ice shards, piercing the guards' armor, ripping them to shreds. Blood and gore flew wantonly around the room.
"And for you!" Dusk shouted, pointing the sword at his lord. The lord drew his own sword, standing in defense. Dusk charged him, moving his sword faster than the eye could trace. Pieces of his former master began to fall to the ground, Dusk's sword red with the blood. He turned around and looked across the room. The walls were smeared with blood, a one-inch pool of dark liquid settled on the floor, flowing down the staircases. He took the helmet from the decapitated head of his previous master and donned it, sitting on the throne.
"A new man shall reign over this land..."
Pheidippides
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- Posted: Sat, 19 Feb 2005 21:10:48 +0000
((Sorry it is taking so long. I still have to format the quotation marks and ellipses so Gaia can understand them.))
Pheidippides
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- Posted: Sat, 19 Feb 2005 21:19:27 +0000
<center>Chapter 2: Building the Foundation, Ruses are Formed</center>
At one time, these plains were peaceful. Deer grazed on the fields where the blood of many now lies. Flowers grew where the dead now rest, ready to report for their final journey. The sweet serenity of chirping birds is replaced by the sounds of battle; swords clashing, wounds flowing, cries of dying soldiers with their last breath. The twang of the bowstring, the piercing of armor, the hurling of men upon smelling the rotting corpse of their comrades. But one sound could be heard above all.
Dusk stood in the middle of the fray, shouting orders to his troops between the sequential flashing of his sword. His war cry could be heard across the battlefield, freezing the enemy in fear before he ruthlessly slaughtered them. The blood of his adversaries coated his sword, as well as his body. Seeing and smelling the blood covering himself set Dusk into a nearly irreversible killing rage. The mind pushed his body to the limit of his ability, nudging him closer to the brink of insanity.
Just as Dusk thoughtlessly killed another, an axe of enormous proportion fell down in front of him, narrowly missing his body. Dusk looked up at the giant of a man wielding the weapon, who smiled down at him.
"Dusk, it is foolish to try and unite the empire under one lord," the man said, pulling the axe back towards his body. "And even if you succeeded, what would you do? Take on the world?" the giant finished in his deep grunting voice.
"Ah, Belgar, my old friend. So glad you could make it," Dusk said, quickly adjusting his mood to fit his current need. He sheathed his sword as a sign of peace. "We used to fight side by side for our respective lords, why not join me now? Where is the sense in staying on a sinking ship?" Dusk said coolly, keeping a strong grip on his mind despite the killing frenzy.
"Never!" Belgar shouted in a voice that shook the ground. "You and I may have been allies at one point, but going against the empire? It is suicide! And with that said, allow me to cleave through your soul!" Belgar lifted his axe into the air, his arms rippling at the force.
The length of the doubled-edged weapon and Belgars height seemed to be the same, approximately seven feet. His enormous muscles could be seen all over his body; Belgar's only clothing being the loincloth around his waist. The sweat on his bare head glistened in the sunlight, with blood from Dusk's troops splattered wantonly on his body.
Belgar swung his axe at Dusk horizontally, who deftly rolled under it, trying to close the distance between the two of them by sneaking closer. Belgar pulled the axe towards his body, and knocked Dusk in the chin with its base, sending him flying backwards. Dusk rose, rubbing his face, which felt like it had been shattered to a thousand pieces. Belgar then brought his axe down at Dusk, who did a nimble back flip, dodging the blade. The axe stuck into the ground as Dusk landed, and he seized this chance. He jumped forward, bringing with him the momentum of his back flip. He landed on the pole of Belgar's mighty axe, running up the shaft of the weapon. Belgar looked at him unmoving, slightly stupefied. Dusk reached Belgar's body and delivered unto him a series of punches to his chest. Dusk then performed another aerial flip, this time connecting his foot with Belgar's jaw as he did so. Dusk spun like a corkscrew in the air and thrust his other heel forward, smashing it into Belgar's chest as the giant flew backwards onto the ground, the force of the blow pulling his axe from the earth as well.
Belgar stood, nursing his chin. He looked at his forces, which by this time were being broken in spirit and rank. Dusk shot Belgar a hard stare with his eye, a feint glow of blue radiating behind the eye patch. Belgar knew Dusk well enough to not taunt him any further. He stood, petrified, not knowing what to do. Belgar, suddenly struck in the shoulder by an arrow, quickly salvaged his consciousness.
"Retreat!" Belgar commanded, now holding his shoulder. "Fall back to Lord Orion's castle!" The enemy army ran back to the castle that could be seen peeking over the horizon, on the spot where the cliffs on the left and right converged. Dusk raised his right hand, palm open, signaling his forces not to pursue. He turned to his troops, whom had also been in the employ of his former lord. He balled his hand into a fist.
"Victory!" Dusk shouted, his yell echoing in the ranks of his troops as they raised their weapons into the air.
"He is stronger than I feared," Qurez whispered quietly. He and Kay had been sitting on a nearby cliff, observing the battle. Dusk's force began to pull back to their main camp.
"And I have a feeling he's even stronger than that," Qurez pondered, leaning back. A fresh shirt covered his wound, and the light from his artificial heart could be seen through it, flashing rhythmically.
"Well, why don't you do something about it?" Kay said sternly, as if reprimanding him. She stood up and reflexively dusted herself off.
"You should get off your lazy butt and stop him." Kay pointed an accusing finger at him. "You're a warrior, right? Do something about it!"
Qurez rose to his feet slowly. "I could never attack my own brother without reason," he muttered slowly.
"Hello! He attacked you! He speared you in the chest with a giant icicle! Isn’t that reason enough?" Kay asked him, dumbfounded by his chivalry.
"But he must have had a reason for that as well," Qurez replied, shaking his legs a little. "I want to find out what that reason is before I retaliate."
Kay sighed, frustrated with him. "Well, I guess there's no stopping you then. I'm going with you though; you still owe me one for reviving you. Don't think I'm going to forget it!" she said adamantly.
Qurez sighed in response to her own, walking towards his horse. "Come on then, let's go," he mumbled, saddling his horse and mounting. Kay followed, holding her hand out for him to help her up. Qurez scooted to the front of the horse and patted the back of the saddle, giving her room to get on.
"Are you coming?" Qurez asked her. Kay fumed as she helped herself onto the back of the horse. Once she had mounted she hit Qurez on the back of the head. He smiled a little and kicked his horse, spurring it towards their next destination, Lord Orion's castle.
The building could be seen ahead, an eerie fog encompassing the area. Towers jutted out of the stone fortress, and could be seen reaching towards the heavens, scraping the base of the clouds. Wyverns, long and thin creatures that looked to be a cross between a worm and a dragon, circled the towers nimbly, waiting to feast on the fresh corpses from the battle.
"I have heard of the dark Lord Orion," Kay told Qurez, wrapping her arms around his chest so as not to fall off. "His elite troops are all wyvern riders, known as the Wyvern Knights. Their captain is said to be an outlaw from Attica, known as the Wyrm Lord. He used to be head of the Golden Wyrms while in Attica, but was exiled when accused of killing one of the Atticaian lords. People think the King of Attica's jealousy of the Wyrm Lord and his armies' love for him corrupted his heart, and that he actually set up the murder. If he leads Orion's Wyvern Knights into battle, Dusk will easily fall. We should just let him die here, have Orion do the work for us."
Qurez thought and shook his head. "The last I heard of my brother while he was still called Thomas, before he was captured by the Evil Lords, was that he was at a monastery, honing his white magic skills. He would have surely learned the arts of strategy during his stay. He will most likely think up a plan to deal with this threat."
As these words escaped Qurez's lips, Dusk fulfilled just such a prophecy. Amidst the celebrating of his officers in the war tent, Dusk furrowed his brow, devising a plan to take down Orion's wyvern riders. He sipped on his wine as his brow furrowed, the eye patch shifting slightly.
He slammed his hand down on the table, catching the attention of everyone in the room. They all turned their heads and looked at him; curious of why he had done this. Dusk cleared his throat and spoke slowly.
"Good job with the battle today...But it is only the first step. Orion's wyvern riders will swoop down and kill us all if we are not prepared." The men in the room swallowed hard as the harsh reality sunk in. "But," Dusk continued, "They can be defeated if we coordinate an effective attack against them. Though wyverns can match our ground forces easily, they are powerless against the bow.
"And so, we will stage an ambush on the cliffs to the left and right. Archers will rise up and fire their salvo, and then the ground forces can finish them when the wyverns fall to the ground. However, I will need two captains to direct the forces; any volunteers?" Dusk asked the crowd.
Eyes shifted back and forth around the room, heads turning to see if any were up to the task.
"We will," shouted a voice from the back.
At one time, these plains were peaceful. Deer grazed on the fields where the blood of many now lies. Flowers grew where the dead now rest, ready to report for their final journey. The sweet serenity of chirping birds is replaced by the sounds of battle; swords clashing, wounds flowing, cries of dying soldiers with their last breath. The twang of the bowstring, the piercing of armor, the hurling of men upon smelling the rotting corpse of their comrades. But one sound could be heard above all.
Dusk stood in the middle of the fray, shouting orders to his troops between the sequential flashing of his sword. His war cry could be heard across the battlefield, freezing the enemy in fear before he ruthlessly slaughtered them. The blood of his adversaries coated his sword, as well as his body. Seeing and smelling the blood covering himself set Dusk into a nearly irreversible killing rage. The mind pushed his body to the limit of his ability, nudging him closer to the brink of insanity.
Just as Dusk thoughtlessly killed another, an axe of enormous proportion fell down in front of him, narrowly missing his body. Dusk looked up at the giant of a man wielding the weapon, who smiled down at him.
"Dusk, it is foolish to try and unite the empire under one lord," the man said, pulling the axe back towards his body. "And even if you succeeded, what would you do? Take on the world?" the giant finished in his deep grunting voice.
"Ah, Belgar, my old friend. So glad you could make it," Dusk said, quickly adjusting his mood to fit his current need. He sheathed his sword as a sign of peace. "We used to fight side by side for our respective lords, why not join me now? Where is the sense in staying on a sinking ship?" Dusk said coolly, keeping a strong grip on his mind despite the killing frenzy.
"Never!" Belgar shouted in a voice that shook the ground. "You and I may have been allies at one point, but going against the empire? It is suicide! And with that said, allow me to cleave through your soul!" Belgar lifted his axe into the air, his arms rippling at the force.
The length of the doubled-edged weapon and Belgars height seemed to be the same, approximately seven feet. His enormous muscles could be seen all over his body; Belgar's only clothing being the loincloth around his waist. The sweat on his bare head glistened in the sunlight, with blood from Dusk's troops splattered wantonly on his body.
Belgar swung his axe at Dusk horizontally, who deftly rolled under it, trying to close the distance between the two of them by sneaking closer. Belgar pulled the axe towards his body, and knocked Dusk in the chin with its base, sending him flying backwards. Dusk rose, rubbing his face, which felt like it had been shattered to a thousand pieces. Belgar then brought his axe down at Dusk, who did a nimble back flip, dodging the blade. The axe stuck into the ground as Dusk landed, and he seized this chance. He jumped forward, bringing with him the momentum of his back flip. He landed on the pole of Belgar's mighty axe, running up the shaft of the weapon. Belgar looked at him unmoving, slightly stupefied. Dusk reached Belgar's body and delivered unto him a series of punches to his chest. Dusk then performed another aerial flip, this time connecting his foot with Belgar's jaw as he did so. Dusk spun like a corkscrew in the air and thrust his other heel forward, smashing it into Belgar's chest as the giant flew backwards onto the ground, the force of the blow pulling his axe from the earth as well.
Belgar stood, nursing his chin. He looked at his forces, which by this time were being broken in spirit and rank. Dusk shot Belgar a hard stare with his eye, a feint glow of blue radiating behind the eye patch. Belgar knew Dusk well enough to not taunt him any further. He stood, petrified, not knowing what to do. Belgar, suddenly struck in the shoulder by an arrow, quickly salvaged his consciousness.
"Retreat!" Belgar commanded, now holding his shoulder. "Fall back to Lord Orion's castle!" The enemy army ran back to the castle that could be seen peeking over the horizon, on the spot where the cliffs on the left and right converged. Dusk raised his right hand, palm open, signaling his forces not to pursue. He turned to his troops, whom had also been in the employ of his former lord. He balled his hand into a fist.
"Victory!" Dusk shouted, his yell echoing in the ranks of his troops as they raised their weapons into the air.
"He is stronger than I feared," Qurez whispered quietly. He and Kay had been sitting on a nearby cliff, observing the battle. Dusk's force began to pull back to their main camp.
"And I have a feeling he's even stronger than that," Qurez pondered, leaning back. A fresh shirt covered his wound, and the light from his artificial heart could be seen through it, flashing rhythmically.
"Well, why don't you do something about it?" Kay said sternly, as if reprimanding him. She stood up and reflexively dusted herself off.
"You should get off your lazy butt and stop him." Kay pointed an accusing finger at him. "You're a warrior, right? Do something about it!"
Qurez rose to his feet slowly. "I could never attack my own brother without reason," he muttered slowly.
"Hello! He attacked you! He speared you in the chest with a giant icicle! Isn’t that reason enough?" Kay asked him, dumbfounded by his chivalry.
"But he must have had a reason for that as well," Qurez replied, shaking his legs a little. "I want to find out what that reason is before I retaliate."
Kay sighed, frustrated with him. "Well, I guess there's no stopping you then. I'm going with you though; you still owe me one for reviving you. Don't think I'm going to forget it!" she said adamantly.
Qurez sighed in response to her own, walking towards his horse. "Come on then, let's go," he mumbled, saddling his horse and mounting. Kay followed, holding her hand out for him to help her up. Qurez scooted to the front of the horse and patted the back of the saddle, giving her room to get on.
"Are you coming?" Qurez asked her. Kay fumed as she helped herself onto the back of the horse. Once she had mounted she hit Qurez on the back of the head. He smiled a little and kicked his horse, spurring it towards their next destination, Lord Orion's castle.
The building could be seen ahead, an eerie fog encompassing the area. Towers jutted out of the stone fortress, and could be seen reaching towards the heavens, scraping the base of the clouds. Wyverns, long and thin creatures that looked to be a cross between a worm and a dragon, circled the towers nimbly, waiting to feast on the fresh corpses from the battle.
"I have heard of the dark Lord Orion," Kay told Qurez, wrapping her arms around his chest so as not to fall off. "His elite troops are all wyvern riders, known as the Wyvern Knights. Their captain is said to be an outlaw from Attica, known as the Wyrm Lord. He used to be head of the Golden Wyrms while in Attica, but was exiled when accused of killing one of the Atticaian lords. People think the King of Attica's jealousy of the Wyrm Lord and his armies' love for him corrupted his heart, and that he actually set up the murder. If he leads Orion's Wyvern Knights into battle, Dusk will easily fall. We should just let him die here, have Orion do the work for us."
Qurez thought and shook his head. "The last I heard of my brother while he was still called Thomas, before he was captured by the Evil Lords, was that he was at a monastery, honing his white magic skills. He would have surely learned the arts of strategy during his stay. He will most likely think up a plan to deal with this threat."
As these words escaped Qurez's lips, Dusk fulfilled just such a prophecy. Amidst the celebrating of his officers in the war tent, Dusk furrowed his brow, devising a plan to take down Orion's wyvern riders. He sipped on his wine as his brow furrowed, the eye patch shifting slightly.
He slammed his hand down on the table, catching the attention of everyone in the room. They all turned their heads and looked at him; curious of why he had done this. Dusk cleared his throat and spoke slowly.
"Good job with the battle today...But it is only the first step. Orion's wyvern riders will swoop down and kill us all if we are not prepared." The men in the room swallowed hard as the harsh reality sunk in. "But," Dusk continued, "They can be defeated if we coordinate an effective attack against them. Though wyverns can match our ground forces easily, they are powerless against the bow.
"And so, we will stage an ambush on the cliffs to the left and right. Archers will rise up and fire their salvo, and then the ground forces can finish them when the wyverns fall to the ground. However, I will need two captains to direct the forces; any volunteers?" Dusk asked the crowd.
Eyes shifted back and forth around the room, heads turning to see if any were up to the task.
"We will," shouted a voice from the back.
Pheidippides
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((Pooey, I don't have any reviews yet! crying ))
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<center>Chapter 3: Orion Receives What he has Given</center>
"We will," repeated the taller of two men, whose first response was met with the silence of disbelief. The one who had spoken still donned in full battle armor, though it was clean of blood. On his back a b*****d sword lay sheathed over his shoulder, the blade coated in dry crusty blood. He wore no helmet, exposing his short black hair, which lie on his head like an unruly rug. The short stubble made his face rough, with a scar that went down his right cheek, creating a small pink line on his visage.
The other man stood about as high as the taller one's shoulder, but just as battle worn. On his left hip hung a horizontal quiver, nearly depleted of arrows. Over his shoulder he had a steel bow, arcing along his spine. Most of the bow lay concealed from view by his long silky hair, identical to the red of blood. He had a crooked nose that looked as though it had been broken various times. Light leather armor protected his body, with a metal bracer on his wrist.
"I will command the ground forces," the taller one said. "And my cousin will lead the ambush of archers." He pointed to the shorter man on his left.
"And who are you, so bold in spirit?" Dusk asked the pair.
"I am James," replied the taller one, "And this is my cousin Crimson."
Dusk looked slightly puzzled. "Why do you speak for your partner?" he mused curiously.
"My cousin lost his voice in a duel," James said as Crimson raised his neck, exposing a large horizontal scar. "But his opponent lost his life." Crimson nodded in agreement. "His skills with the bow are unparalleled, those wyvern riders will be sorry to meet him. By the way, he likes being called Crim for short." Crim nodded again, his long red bangs falling in front of his eyes.
"Well then, we shall see, soon enough." Dusk continued to plan the battle, dispatching troops to various regions of the battlefield. When he had finished, he raised his glass of wine.
"We will attack at daybreak tomorrow, rest well and prepare for the battle." He drank from his goblet, as did everyone else. His officers left the tent, including James and Crim, leaving together and then parting to go to their respective camps.
As the moon peeked over the hills, the fog around Lord Orion's castle glowing in a hoary panorama. Qurez and Kay treaded lightly, having to leave their horse behind when the terrain became too rocky to traverse while mounted. They came to the castles front gate and were spotted by the guards.
"Who are you? Spies from Dusk?" the guards asked hurriedly, bringing their spears to bear. "Announce yourselves!"
Kay reached for a dagger she wore at her side, but Qurez stayed her hand.
"We were officers of Lord Lyncyn, but refused to join Dusk when he came into power. We have heard you are fighting him, and wish to lend assistance."
The guards talked amongst each other about Qurez's statement and came to an agreement.
"Search them for weapons and escort them to the conference chamber," ordered the gate captain. As they were being frisked, Qurez looked up the walls of the castle, a large stained-glass window of a man in armor riding a wyvern decorated the front of the castle a couple floors above him. Behind the window lingered the conference room, where a heated discussion of two rivals ensued.
"Surrender?" Belgar laughed mockingly. "Lord Orion, the captain of your Wyvern Knights, the famed Wyrm Lord, thinks we should stand down. What foolishness," the giant shouted, pointing a monstrous finger at a man standing to his left.
Dressed in a blue and gold battle robe, the man glared at Belgar. Sections of armor were advantageously placed on his shoulders, chest, and thighs. A flowing cape of gold covered his back, waving as he shifted his body. He had yellowish blond hair that stuck straight up, jiggling in the way his cape moved. The strands of hair were only a couple inches long, like he was wearing a glowing beret. He had deep blue eyes, a philosopher's gaze.
Another man, if it could even be called that, sat on a throne in front of the window. He wore a full suit of armor that seemed to suck the light out of the area around it. Lord Orion pondered Belgar's argument, and then spoke in a chilling voice.
"He has a point, I see no sense in surrendering to that upstart Dusk. I thought you were wiser than that Maximilian," the voice from the armor whispered.
Max shook his head, his hair bouncing. "You don't understand, I mean we should ally with Dusk. After the loss we suffered today, it makes sense. There is no need for any more unnecessary bloodshed. We are all united under the name of the empire; we need to stay that way to be strong."
"Don't listen to him Lord Orion!" Belgar quickly retorted. "Are you really willing to sacrifice all we're worked for out of pity for the troops? Maximilian has always been soft, ever since he joined us after he was kicked out of Attica. Don't let this outsider sway your decision!"
"You are out of line Belgar!" Max shouted back. "Ever since I swore fealty to Lord Orion, I have risked my life and those of my men to keep peace on our borders. You are nothing but a dirty-"
"Silence!" Lord Orion commanded. "I have heard enough. Our troops will fight to the last to defend our homeland. Belgar will be captain of defense, and Maximilian will take the point with the Wyvern Knights. I hope I have made myself clear."
"Crystal." Belgar bowed low and exited through one of the doors to the side. Max glared at Orion and gave him a slight bow of the head, meaning to offend him. He turned around and left through the chambers main door, fuming to himself as he passed the guards escorting Kay and Qurez to the throne room. Max caught sight of Qurez and eyed him in awe for a moment.
"It can't be," he thought to himself. He quickly rushed up the stairs to the wyvern stable.
A guard entered Orion's room to announce the pair. "Two officers have defected from Dusk's army and wish to join us," the guard said, delivering his message while kneeling.
"Bring them forward," Orion hissed, the voice creeping from his armor.
Qurez and Kay were brought in and shoved to the ground. Orion saw Qurez and recognized him immediately. He quickly rose to his feet, armor clattering.
"Assassins!" Orion yelled loudly. "That one is the brother of Dusk, kill them you fools!"
The guards, Qurez, and Kay were all taken by surprise, but the latter two acted quickly. Qurez punched one of the guards in the chin, knocking him backwards onto the ground. Kay tripped another guard, making him fall to the floor. She drew the guard's sword and stabbed him with it. Qurez stepped on the head of the guard who knelt before Orion, pressing his heel into the guard's neck, snapping it. He took his sword from the dead guard and pointed it at the evil lord. Orion drew his hand axe, the rising sun in the stained glass behind him suddenly blocked out.
A yellow wyvern broke through the window, shards flying all over the room. Its wings folded in and out, covering its long thin body, with a mouth full of teeth and a tail resembling a fishhook. The small forearms stretched out its clawed fingers, the wyvern's muscular hind legs directly below a sea blue saddle.
Mounted on the saddle sat Maximilian, his twin slim spears sheathed on the wyvern's side. His golden cape flapped in the wind, the flames of vengeance burning in his blue eyes.
"Maximilian, you have come!" rejoiced Orion. "Kill these spies!"
Max glanced at Orion and then at Qurez and Kay. He flew the wyvern into the room, grabbing Qurez with his right arm and Kay with his left. He flew back out of the window, pulling the pair forward onto the saddle behind him.
Orion turned towards the broken window, enraged. But, his anger soon turned to fear as he saw Dusk's infantry charging forward towards the castle. James led the van on his horse, the giant b*****d sword slung over his shoulder.
"We will," repeated the taller of two men, whose first response was met with the silence of disbelief. The one who had spoken still donned in full battle armor, though it was clean of blood. On his back a b*****d sword lay sheathed over his shoulder, the blade coated in dry crusty blood. He wore no helmet, exposing his short black hair, which lie on his head like an unruly rug. The short stubble made his face rough, with a scar that went down his right cheek, creating a small pink line on his visage.
The other man stood about as high as the taller one's shoulder, but just as battle worn. On his left hip hung a horizontal quiver, nearly depleted of arrows. Over his shoulder he had a steel bow, arcing along his spine. Most of the bow lay concealed from view by his long silky hair, identical to the red of blood. He had a crooked nose that looked as though it had been broken various times. Light leather armor protected his body, with a metal bracer on his wrist.
"I will command the ground forces," the taller one said. "And my cousin will lead the ambush of archers." He pointed to the shorter man on his left.
"And who are you, so bold in spirit?" Dusk asked the pair.
"I am James," replied the taller one, "And this is my cousin Crimson."
Dusk looked slightly puzzled. "Why do you speak for your partner?" he mused curiously.
"My cousin lost his voice in a duel," James said as Crimson raised his neck, exposing a large horizontal scar. "But his opponent lost his life." Crimson nodded in agreement. "His skills with the bow are unparalleled, those wyvern riders will be sorry to meet him. By the way, he likes being called Crim for short." Crim nodded again, his long red bangs falling in front of his eyes.
"Well then, we shall see, soon enough." Dusk continued to plan the battle, dispatching troops to various regions of the battlefield. When he had finished, he raised his glass of wine.
"We will attack at daybreak tomorrow, rest well and prepare for the battle." He drank from his goblet, as did everyone else. His officers left the tent, including James and Crim, leaving together and then parting to go to their respective camps.
As the moon peeked over the hills, the fog around Lord Orion's castle glowing in a hoary panorama. Qurez and Kay treaded lightly, having to leave their horse behind when the terrain became too rocky to traverse while mounted. They came to the castles front gate and were spotted by the guards.
"Who are you? Spies from Dusk?" the guards asked hurriedly, bringing their spears to bear. "Announce yourselves!"
Kay reached for a dagger she wore at her side, but Qurez stayed her hand.
"We were officers of Lord Lyncyn, but refused to join Dusk when he came into power. We have heard you are fighting him, and wish to lend assistance."
The guards talked amongst each other about Qurez's statement and came to an agreement.
"Search them for weapons and escort them to the conference chamber," ordered the gate captain. As they were being frisked, Qurez looked up the walls of the castle, a large stained-glass window of a man in armor riding a wyvern decorated the front of the castle a couple floors above him. Behind the window lingered the conference room, where a heated discussion of two rivals ensued.
"Surrender?" Belgar laughed mockingly. "Lord Orion, the captain of your Wyvern Knights, the famed Wyrm Lord, thinks we should stand down. What foolishness," the giant shouted, pointing a monstrous finger at a man standing to his left.
Dressed in a blue and gold battle robe, the man glared at Belgar. Sections of armor were advantageously placed on his shoulders, chest, and thighs. A flowing cape of gold covered his back, waving as he shifted his body. He had yellowish blond hair that stuck straight up, jiggling in the way his cape moved. The strands of hair were only a couple inches long, like he was wearing a glowing beret. He had deep blue eyes, a philosopher's gaze.
Another man, if it could even be called that, sat on a throne in front of the window. He wore a full suit of armor that seemed to suck the light out of the area around it. Lord Orion pondered Belgar's argument, and then spoke in a chilling voice.
"He has a point, I see no sense in surrendering to that upstart Dusk. I thought you were wiser than that Maximilian," the voice from the armor whispered.
Max shook his head, his hair bouncing. "You don't understand, I mean we should ally with Dusk. After the loss we suffered today, it makes sense. There is no need for any more unnecessary bloodshed. We are all united under the name of the empire; we need to stay that way to be strong."
"Don't listen to him Lord Orion!" Belgar quickly retorted. "Are you really willing to sacrifice all we're worked for out of pity for the troops? Maximilian has always been soft, ever since he joined us after he was kicked out of Attica. Don't let this outsider sway your decision!"
"You are out of line Belgar!" Max shouted back. "Ever since I swore fealty to Lord Orion, I have risked my life and those of my men to keep peace on our borders. You are nothing but a dirty-"
"Silence!" Lord Orion commanded. "I have heard enough. Our troops will fight to the last to defend our homeland. Belgar will be captain of defense, and Maximilian will take the point with the Wyvern Knights. I hope I have made myself clear."
"Crystal." Belgar bowed low and exited through one of the doors to the side. Max glared at Orion and gave him a slight bow of the head, meaning to offend him. He turned around and left through the chambers main door, fuming to himself as he passed the guards escorting Kay and Qurez to the throne room. Max caught sight of Qurez and eyed him in awe for a moment.
"It can't be," he thought to himself. He quickly rushed up the stairs to the wyvern stable.
A guard entered Orion's room to announce the pair. "Two officers have defected from Dusk's army and wish to join us," the guard said, delivering his message while kneeling.
"Bring them forward," Orion hissed, the voice creeping from his armor.
Qurez and Kay were brought in and shoved to the ground. Orion saw Qurez and recognized him immediately. He quickly rose to his feet, armor clattering.
"Assassins!" Orion yelled loudly. "That one is the brother of Dusk, kill them you fools!"
The guards, Qurez, and Kay were all taken by surprise, but the latter two acted quickly. Qurez punched one of the guards in the chin, knocking him backwards onto the ground. Kay tripped another guard, making him fall to the floor. She drew the guard's sword and stabbed him with it. Qurez stepped on the head of the guard who knelt before Orion, pressing his heel into the guard's neck, snapping it. He took his sword from the dead guard and pointed it at the evil lord. Orion drew his hand axe, the rising sun in the stained glass behind him suddenly blocked out.
A yellow wyvern broke through the window, shards flying all over the room. Its wings folded in and out, covering its long thin body, with a mouth full of teeth and a tail resembling a fishhook. The small forearms stretched out its clawed fingers, the wyvern's muscular hind legs directly below a sea blue saddle.
Mounted on the saddle sat Maximilian, his twin slim spears sheathed on the wyvern's side. His golden cape flapped in the wind, the flames of vengeance burning in his blue eyes.
"Maximilian, you have come!" rejoiced Orion. "Kill these spies!"
Max glanced at Orion and then at Qurez and Kay. He flew the wyvern into the room, grabbing Qurez with his right arm and Kay with his left. He flew back out of the window, pulling the pair forward onto the saddle behind him.
Orion turned towards the broken window, enraged. But, his anger soon turned to fear as he saw Dusk's infantry charging forward towards the castle. James led the van on his horse, the giant b*****d sword slung over his shoulder.
Pheidippides
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- Posted: Sat, 19 Feb 2005 21:36:43 +0000
((This is one of my favorite battle scenes coming up here in Chapter 4. Besides the one with Crimson in Chapter 9. But that's not for a little while...))
Pheidippides
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<center>Chapter 4: An Empire is Broken, Honor Over Death</center>
Lord Orion's pupils shrank as his eyes widened. "Belgar!" he shouted, calling for his loyal subject. But the giant had already seen the forces and had ridden out of the gates to meet James, the gates vomiting out the rest of his troops. Orion ran out of the room, armor clanging. He jogged up the stairs to the wyvern stables, seeing the knights sleeping.
"Get up! The enemy is here!" Orion yelled, waking the men from their slumber. The knights quickly donned their armor and weapons, preparing to face Dusk's army.
As the two opposing armies approached each other, the leaders drew their weapons. James brandished his giant b*****d sword, the massive blade shining in the morning sun. Belgar prepared his axe, swinging it around his head. When the two warriors were but a few feet away, they brought their weapons forward, making the blades collide with one another.
The force of the combined impact knocked both fighters from their mount, causing them to fly off backwards. Their troops met each other and entered the fray, stabbing, slashing, and killing their respective enemy. Belgar stood, bringing his axe to bear in front of him. James struggled up under the weight of his armor, pulling his sword as high as he could manage. Belgar shot him a sneer.
"What's wrong warrior? Is that sword a little too big for you? Here, let me cut it down to size," Belgar sneered sadistically, bringing his axe around as he charged James.
Just then, the castle's high gates opened and Orion's famed Wyvern Knights streamed out, ready to annihilate the enemy army. Dusk's archers laid in ambush, waiting for Crimson's signal to strike. The red haired sniper watched the battle, intently focusing on his cousin.
Kicked in the stomach by Belgar, James rolled back, his armor clanging loudly. Belgar brought down his axe to slice through James, but the blow ricocheted away as the latter threw his sword into the air, knocking the axe back. Belgar regained his grip and took advantage, swinging at James horizontally, but James leapt into the air, dodging the axe. He grabbed his b*****d sword out of the sky and brought it down onto the pole of the axe, breaking it in half. Giant splinters flew everywhere, sticking into Belgar's body while they harmlessly bounced off of James' armor.
A wyvern suddenly appeared above James, ready to bite into him with its razor sharp teeth. Three arrows flew from the right and pierced through the fiend's long neck, killing it. Crim reached for a fourth arrow from his quiver and fired, striking the wyvern's rider in the chest, killing him. The huge flying behemoth fell from the sky and landed on top of Belgar, crushing him.
Seas of arrows were shot by the ambush, blotting out the sun. The shots struck the wyverns, killing and injuring the beasts and their riders. The bodies fell and crashed, killing more of Orion's troops. A second salvo raced through the air, killing many of the remaining flyers. The arrows that missed their mark aided still by killing many of the foot soldiers.
Maximilian skillfully evaded the arrows, piloting his wyvern around the bolts, trying to escape the battle. Kay screamed and clung to Qurez, who had a firm grip on the saddle horn.
Dusk then rode in on his horse, bringing with him cavalry reinforcements to take the front gate. They met little opposition on the battlefield, as James and his forces were taking care of most of the enemy troops. Dusk reached the gate, seeing Lord Orion awaiting his arrival, his elite guards surrounding him in a tight circle. Dusk's cavalry rushed forward, attacking the guards. Dusk backed his horse up, and kicked it hard, breaking it into full gallop. As the horse approached the melee, it leapt into the air. Dusk leapt from the saddle, landing next to Orion. The ice master skillfully moved his hands around and then shot them forward, freezing Orion's arms and legs, restricting his movement.
Dusk's troops finished off the last of the guards as James and the remnants of his forces came to meet Dusk, bringing along the unconscious Belgar as a prisoner. Lord Orion looked up and spoke.
"Please Dusk, release me, and I will give you all the wealth I have. Gold, land, everything, just please, let me live!" the formerly grand lord begged to Dusk.
"Shut your mouth!" Belgar shouted, regaining consciousness. "Lord Orion, you are pathetic, accept your loss and die quietly. If anything, retain your honor, even in death!" Dusk felt moved by Belgar's statement.
"Belgar," Dusk started. "You are a man of great talent and discipline. It would be a pleasure to have one such as you in my service."
Belgar lowered his head. "Twice I have been bested in battle by you and your men, yet you still give me mercy. How could I ever refuse my lord," Belgar alleged, staying low and kneeling to Dusk, his new master.
"I will serve you as well, just please, don't kill me, please!" Orion pleaded.
"I hope you enjoyed those words, as they will be your last. Belgar, prove your loyalty and kill this maggot!" Dusk shouted, pointing to Orion.
"My pleasure," Belgar harmonized, rising to his feet. He picked up a spear that lie on the ground and faced his former master, pulling the lance back.
"Belgar! No! Not after all I've done for yo-" Orion's sentence suddenly cut short as the javelin gouged his throat. A jet of warm red blood ejaculated from the crevasse the sharp point created, running down the breastplate once it stopped squirting in an almost comical fashion. Belgar tossed the weapon to the side, and faced Dusk, bowing before him once more.
Dusk laughed at him and smiled. "Yes, I think we will get along very well Belgar." Just as he announced this, Crim came running towards the group, staring at James.
"Crim has something important to report," James translated, deciphering his gaze. Crim stopped next to him and continued to look into James' eyes. "He says a golden wyvern carrying three warriors slipped through our defenses, and is heading east."
"What! How did you not stop him?" Dusk shouted, enraged.
"My lord, please stay calm," Belgar placated soothingly. "That wyvern belongs to Maximilian, the Wyrm Lord. He is a master at flight, it is no wonder we were unable to take him down. Though I loathe him, I must admit he is an unparalleled flying ace."
Dusk thought silently for a moment. "Hmmm, three riders you say? He must have taken some of his officers with him. No matter, three men alone cannot stop me! Let us return to our castle," Dusk ordered. "James, Crim; I want the two of you to stay here. Make sure Orion's lands are not taken from our grasp.
"Sir!" James replied, as he and Crimson saluted him.
"Belgar, you and I shall go back to our castle. Find any troops who will follow your lead and catch up with me, I shall begin to gather my troops," Dusk instructed, administering the last of his orders. The men scattered, going about the duties they were assigned to.
The morning sun shifted to its midday position, the glow making the golden wyvern seem almost invisible on the skyline. The wings flapped in a slow controlled rhythm, riding the updrafts of the wind. Kay still clung to Qurez tightly, her eyes closed. Qurez tapped Max on the shoulder.
"Hey, aren't you that Wyrm Lord guy? Why did you save us, I thought you were on Orion's side?" Qurez riddled off questions as Max's cape flowed lightly, blocked from going totally airborne by Qurez's body.
"I guess I have a little explaining to do," Max responded, bringing the wyvern down a little bit, tilting to the side. He saw a small lake below them and headed for it, diving down slowly. The wyvern flapped its wings as it got closer to the ground, slowing the descent. They finally landed, and Maximilian jumped off, walking over to the lake to wash his face. Qurez tried to get off, but Kay refused to release him. He poked her on the head, and when she realized the beast had landed, she slowly dismounted.
"I'm a little afraid of heights," Kay whispered shakily, clearing her throat. Qurez sighed and got off the wyvern. It slowly walked over to the water, dipping its mouth into the blue and drinking from it. Qurez looked towards Max, who shook his head dry.
"You still haven't answered my questions," Qurez reminded him. He sat down on a nearby rock, waiting for Max's explanation. Max sat down on the grass across from him and sighed.
"Well, I'm not actually a bad person, believe it or not. If you've heard of me as the Wyrm Lord, then you have probably also heard of the scandal surrounding my name. First off, I'd like to say all of that is untrue, the King of Attica, Belrose, set me up to get me out of the kingdom. He was jealous of the peoples' love for me, while they resented him and his rule. So when an assassination attempt failed, he tried to oust me from the city by pinning the murder of a lord on me. And it worked too." Max sighed, lying back. A small wind passed by, ruffling his hair and the tall grass. Max breathed heavily, silent for a moment. "So I heard that the only place with wyverns as well trained as Attica's was with Lord Orion. He was part of the Evil Empire, so my heart resisted, but then again, I was an outlaw, so what was I to do? I joined Orion, in hopes of one day returning to Attica. I guess today is that day. By the way, Wyrm Lord is nice, but I like my real name better. Call me Maximilian," he declared, outstretching a hand to Qurez.
Qurez grasped his hand and shook it. "So, you're going to Attica then?" Max nodded in response. Qurez pondered for a moment, resting his chin in his hand. "We might as well go with you," he resolved. "We don't have anywhere to go currently. Unless of course, you wouldn't want us to tag along."
Maximilian laughed a little. "No, I'm fine with it. It'll be kinda like having my own little fan club."
Kay raised her brow, irritated. "What'd you say?" she asked him incriminatingly.
Maximilian laughed again. "Nothing, nothing at all." He adjusted his shoulder and hip armor, the blue and gold clashing beautifully. "So, shall we be off?" he asked them, walking towards his wyvern and mounting it's back.
Qurez nodded and followed, getting on. The pair of men looked at Kay. "Alright! Fine, I'm coming!" she grumbled angrily. "I hate flying..."
Lord Orion's pupils shrank as his eyes widened. "Belgar!" he shouted, calling for his loyal subject. But the giant had already seen the forces and had ridden out of the gates to meet James, the gates vomiting out the rest of his troops. Orion ran out of the room, armor clanging. He jogged up the stairs to the wyvern stables, seeing the knights sleeping.
"Get up! The enemy is here!" Orion yelled, waking the men from their slumber. The knights quickly donned their armor and weapons, preparing to face Dusk's army.
As the two opposing armies approached each other, the leaders drew their weapons. James brandished his giant b*****d sword, the massive blade shining in the morning sun. Belgar prepared his axe, swinging it around his head. When the two warriors were but a few feet away, they brought their weapons forward, making the blades collide with one another.
The force of the combined impact knocked both fighters from their mount, causing them to fly off backwards. Their troops met each other and entered the fray, stabbing, slashing, and killing their respective enemy. Belgar stood, bringing his axe to bear in front of him. James struggled up under the weight of his armor, pulling his sword as high as he could manage. Belgar shot him a sneer.
"What's wrong warrior? Is that sword a little too big for you? Here, let me cut it down to size," Belgar sneered sadistically, bringing his axe around as he charged James.
Just then, the castle's high gates opened and Orion's famed Wyvern Knights streamed out, ready to annihilate the enemy army. Dusk's archers laid in ambush, waiting for Crimson's signal to strike. The red haired sniper watched the battle, intently focusing on his cousin.
Kicked in the stomach by Belgar, James rolled back, his armor clanging loudly. Belgar brought down his axe to slice through James, but the blow ricocheted away as the latter threw his sword into the air, knocking the axe back. Belgar regained his grip and took advantage, swinging at James horizontally, but James leapt into the air, dodging the axe. He grabbed his b*****d sword out of the sky and brought it down onto the pole of the axe, breaking it in half. Giant splinters flew everywhere, sticking into Belgar's body while they harmlessly bounced off of James' armor.
A wyvern suddenly appeared above James, ready to bite into him with its razor sharp teeth. Three arrows flew from the right and pierced through the fiend's long neck, killing it. Crim reached for a fourth arrow from his quiver and fired, striking the wyvern's rider in the chest, killing him. The huge flying behemoth fell from the sky and landed on top of Belgar, crushing him.
Seas of arrows were shot by the ambush, blotting out the sun. The shots struck the wyverns, killing and injuring the beasts and their riders. The bodies fell and crashed, killing more of Orion's troops. A second salvo raced through the air, killing many of the remaining flyers. The arrows that missed their mark aided still by killing many of the foot soldiers.
Maximilian skillfully evaded the arrows, piloting his wyvern around the bolts, trying to escape the battle. Kay screamed and clung to Qurez, who had a firm grip on the saddle horn.
Dusk then rode in on his horse, bringing with him cavalry reinforcements to take the front gate. They met little opposition on the battlefield, as James and his forces were taking care of most of the enemy troops. Dusk reached the gate, seeing Lord Orion awaiting his arrival, his elite guards surrounding him in a tight circle. Dusk's cavalry rushed forward, attacking the guards. Dusk backed his horse up, and kicked it hard, breaking it into full gallop. As the horse approached the melee, it leapt into the air. Dusk leapt from the saddle, landing next to Orion. The ice master skillfully moved his hands around and then shot them forward, freezing Orion's arms and legs, restricting his movement.
Dusk's troops finished off the last of the guards as James and the remnants of his forces came to meet Dusk, bringing along the unconscious Belgar as a prisoner. Lord Orion looked up and spoke.
"Please Dusk, release me, and I will give you all the wealth I have. Gold, land, everything, just please, let me live!" the formerly grand lord begged to Dusk.
"Shut your mouth!" Belgar shouted, regaining consciousness. "Lord Orion, you are pathetic, accept your loss and die quietly. If anything, retain your honor, even in death!" Dusk felt moved by Belgar's statement.
"Belgar," Dusk started. "You are a man of great talent and discipline. It would be a pleasure to have one such as you in my service."
Belgar lowered his head. "Twice I have been bested in battle by you and your men, yet you still give me mercy. How could I ever refuse my lord," Belgar alleged, staying low and kneeling to Dusk, his new master.
"I will serve you as well, just please, don't kill me, please!" Orion pleaded.
"I hope you enjoyed those words, as they will be your last. Belgar, prove your loyalty and kill this maggot!" Dusk shouted, pointing to Orion.
"My pleasure," Belgar harmonized, rising to his feet. He picked up a spear that lie on the ground and faced his former master, pulling the lance back.
"Belgar! No! Not after all I've done for yo-" Orion's sentence suddenly cut short as the javelin gouged his throat. A jet of warm red blood ejaculated from the crevasse the sharp point created, running down the breastplate once it stopped squirting in an almost comical fashion. Belgar tossed the weapon to the side, and faced Dusk, bowing before him once more.
Dusk laughed at him and smiled. "Yes, I think we will get along very well Belgar." Just as he announced this, Crim came running towards the group, staring at James.
"Crim has something important to report," James translated, deciphering his gaze. Crim stopped next to him and continued to look into James' eyes. "He says a golden wyvern carrying three warriors slipped through our defenses, and is heading east."
"What! How did you not stop him?" Dusk shouted, enraged.
"My lord, please stay calm," Belgar placated soothingly. "That wyvern belongs to Maximilian, the Wyrm Lord. He is a master at flight, it is no wonder we were unable to take him down. Though I loathe him, I must admit he is an unparalleled flying ace."
Dusk thought silently for a moment. "Hmmm, three riders you say? He must have taken some of his officers with him. No matter, three men alone cannot stop me! Let us return to our castle," Dusk ordered. "James, Crim; I want the two of you to stay here. Make sure Orion's lands are not taken from our grasp.
"Sir!" James replied, as he and Crimson saluted him.
"Belgar, you and I shall go back to our castle. Find any troops who will follow your lead and catch up with me, I shall begin to gather my troops," Dusk instructed, administering the last of his orders. The men scattered, going about the duties they were assigned to.
The morning sun shifted to its midday position, the glow making the golden wyvern seem almost invisible on the skyline. The wings flapped in a slow controlled rhythm, riding the updrafts of the wind. Kay still clung to Qurez tightly, her eyes closed. Qurez tapped Max on the shoulder.
"Hey, aren't you that Wyrm Lord guy? Why did you save us, I thought you were on Orion's side?" Qurez riddled off questions as Max's cape flowed lightly, blocked from going totally airborne by Qurez's body.
"I guess I have a little explaining to do," Max responded, bringing the wyvern down a little bit, tilting to the side. He saw a small lake below them and headed for it, diving down slowly. The wyvern flapped its wings as it got closer to the ground, slowing the descent. They finally landed, and Maximilian jumped off, walking over to the lake to wash his face. Qurez tried to get off, but Kay refused to release him. He poked her on the head, and when she realized the beast had landed, she slowly dismounted.
"I'm a little afraid of heights," Kay whispered shakily, clearing her throat. Qurez sighed and got off the wyvern. It slowly walked over to the water, dipping its mouth into the blue and drinking from it. Qurez looked towards Max, who shook his head dry.
"You still haven't answered my questions," Qurez reminded him. He sat down on a nearby rock, waiting for Max's explanation. Max sat down on the grass across from him and sighed.
"Well, I'm not actually a bad person, believe it or not. If you've heard of me as the Wyrm Lord, then you have probably also heard of the scandal surrounding my name. First off, I'd like to say all of that is untrue, the King of Attica, Belrose, set me up to get me out of the kingdom. He was jealous of the peoples' love for me, while they resented him and his rule. So when an assassination attempt failed, he tried to oust me from the city by pinning the murder of a lord on me. And it worked too." Max sighed, lying back. A small wind passed by, ruffling his hair and the tall grass. Max breathed heavily, silent for a moment. "So I heard that the only place with wyverns as well trained as Attica's was with Lord Orion. He was part of the Evil Empire, so my heart resisted, but then again, I was an outlaw, so what was I to do? I joined Orion, in hopes of one day returning to Attica. I guess today is that day. By the way, Wyrm Lord is nice, but I like my real name better. Call me Maximilian," he declared, outstretching a hand to Qurez.
Qurez grasped his hand and shook it. "So, you're going to Attica then?" Max nodded in response. Qurez pondered for a moment, resting his chin in his hand. "We might as well go with you," he resolved. "We don't have anywhere to go currently. Unless of course, you wouldn't want us to tag along."
Maximilian laughed a little. "No, I'm fine with it. It'll be kinda like having my own little fan club."
Kay raised her brow, irritated. "What'd you say?" she asked him incriminatingly.
Maximilian laughed again. "Nothing, nothing at all." He adjusted his shoulder and hip armor, the blue and gold clashing beautifully. "So, shall we be off?" he asked them, walking towards his wyvern and mounting it's back.
Qurez nodded and followed, getting on. The pair of men looked at Kay. "Alright! Fine, I'm coming!" she grumbled angrily. "I hate flying..."
Pheidippides
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<center>Chapter 6: Contained Darkness, a New Ally</center>
Qurez and Kay walked through the streets of Attica, full of people going about their everyday business.
"I still don't see why that blond-haired pretty boy has to send us in to deliver a message. He's such a wimp," Kay whined, openly showing her annoyance.
Qurez shook his head. "He can't come in, he's been banished, remember? We're just here to find his friend and bring him back. Max'll be waiting for us right outside the gates."
Kay puffed angrily. "He's still a little scaredy-cat. How do we know he's not gonna leave without us?"
Qurez ignored her continuous ranting and kept walking - assuming, but not hoping, she would follow him. The pair eventually arrived at a large white building, with the words 'Hall of Knowledge' crudely painted on the side in black. To the left of the words, an old door seldom used stood indented in the wall. Qurez pushed it open, surprised by what he found.
Starting from the entrance, bookcases lined the walls on the left and right. He slowly walked in, Kay following him, looking in awe at all of the books. Qurez navigated the small maze of shelves until he got to a circular open area with a staircase on the opposite side. Chandeliers were lit with many drooping candles, with red filters on the few windows that were not covered by bookcases, giving the place an eerie lighting. Qurez stepped into the marble opening, his footstep echoing lightly. He continued across to the wooden stairs, which had a length of maroon carpeting running down their middle. Kay followed him to the stairs, crossing the opening quickly. Just then, a glyph in the center of the marble began to glow, giving off black aura. Small colorless particles began to fly upwards, followed by purple lightning that spread from spec to spec. Qurez and Kay turned around after hearing the cracking of electricity and saw the threatening spectacle. Qurez drew his sword and Kay picked up a large book from a nearby shelf, ready to defend themselves from whatever might happen.
A hole appeared in the floor, slowly expanding to a three-foot diameter. A figure in a black robe floated upwards, soft winds spiraling around his body. He hovered level with the ground as it closed up under his feet. The hems of his robe were slashed in a manner that made the cuts look almost deliberate. The arms rose to lift the hood that covered the visage of the figure; Qurez gripped his sword tightly in suspense.
Long purple bangs were first uncovered, a pair of them slanting down each end of the face. Next exposed the neck and chin. A small purple patch of hair below his lip gave his face color, along with sideburns that stretched all the way down his face, to the base of his cheeks. He threw his neck back, his bangs flying backwards over his head, followed by the hood. His eyes were closed, and on his right eye rested a single eyeglass, a string flowing from it to his collar. The rest of his long purple hair fell down, stopping just short of his thighs. A gold chain hung down from his robe, one end of the chain attached to the fabric, the other end sinking into a pocket. He opened his eyes, revealing his glossy yellow pupils.
"Welcome," he mused in a chillingly surreal voice. "Welcome to the Hall of Knowledge. Can I help you?" he asked the pair, looking at them curiously.
Qurez sheathed his sword and cleared his throat, but Kay jumped in first.
"What do you think you're doing, warping in here and scaring us half to death?" She threw the tome she was holding to the floor. "Why, if I had half a mind, I'd attack you right now. Why are you staring at me like that anyways? You're the one that looks like a freak. Geez, what a creep. Why I oughta-" Thinking quickly, Qurez threw a hand over her mouth, silencing her and holding onto her tightly as she struggled against him. She finally stopped resisting and he let her go. She kicked him in the shins hard and turned the other way, pointing her nose in the air and 'hmph'ing loudly.
Qurez rubbed his leg lightly and turned back to the center of the room, but the figure had gone, he had vanished in the fray. He looked back to Kay. "See what you di-" he started, but she too had disappeared. The room began to fade away; the walls, the books, the floor, all of it ebbing away into nothingness. The figure appeared in front of Qurez, slowly materializing in the darkness. Qurez raised his fist angrily.
"Hey you, what do you think you are doing? Where's Kay!" he demanded of the figure. The man simply shook his head.
"You misunderstand me," he answered in an empty voice. "I only wanted to speak with you in someplace a little more private, without that girl interrupting us."
Qurez sighed. "Well, I can't blame you, she does get annoying after a while." He felt bad saying that, considering she had saved his life.
The man nodded. "Well, maybe she should have let you die instead of reviving you. That would have been another course of action she could have taken; mugged you and left you to be eaten by the wyverns. But she saved you, and the proof still shows," the figure replied in his unreal voice, pointing to Qurez's artificial heart. It's pounding much brighter here because of the absence of visible light. Qurez looked down and then back at the man.
"What? Hey, wait a second, how do you know about that? Who are you anyways?" he asked him, getting slightly aggravated.
The figure laughed. "You're starting to sound just like her." The man shook his head, the purple hair waving back and forth, the bangs falling in front of his face. "You want help stopping your brother right? If Maximilian trusts you, then there's no reason for me not to." The man snapped his fingers, the area slowly blurring back into view, but not the Hall of Knowledge he had left a short while ago. Qurez looked around as he and the figure appeared on the plains of Attica, where he and Kay had left Maximilian to find his friend. He saw Kay sitting on a rock, jumping up when she spotted Qurez.
"Where the Hell have you been huh? Leaving me at some smelly bookstore like that, could you be any more ungentlemanly?"
"But I was only gone for a few minutes," Qurez rebuked, but quickly took back his statement as he looked to the sky. The moon could be seen on high; he must have been away for hours at least. Qurez turned around to where the purple haired man stood, quietly speaking with Maximilian. He cleaned his eyeglass with the sleeve of his robe as he conversed. He and Max turned to Qurez, who was looked at them perplexedly. Max stepped forward to speak.
"Hello Qurez. It appears your mission was a success, though it did take longer than I thought it would." Max thought for a moment. "Oh right, this is Andrew," he blurted, turning and glancing at the purple-headed black mage. "You two have already met if I'm not mistaken, I asked for you to bring him here, though it was in a fairly unorthodox way. I expected you to escort him here, not the other way around."
Kay saw Andrew and exploded into a fury of rage. "You!" she shouted, running towards him. "Who do you think you are? Disappearing and reappearing at will. When I want to talk to you, you'd better respond." She moved her leg to kick him but he evaporated, appearing again a few feet away. "You little!" Kay yelled, racing after Andrew, trying to hit him as he would teleport away. Maximilian shook his head at the sight and turned back to Qurez.
"That should keep those two busy for a moment. Kay was really worried about you while you were gone," Max added quietly. "I think she likes you Qurez, you know liiikes you," he teased, folding his hands together and batting his eyelashes. Qurez laughed and sat down.
"So who is Andrew, and why did you send us to find him?" Qurez asked Max. The blond-haired wyvern rider sat down across from him and sighed.
"Well, long story short, he was one of my supporters when I was ousted from Attica. Most of them were caught and also exiled, but he hid in the Hall of Knowledge. He had always been a scholar, and we have communicated through secret letters over the past few years. While living in the Hall, he learned the arts of meditation, going without food for weeks at a time. Eventually, he discovered a plane of darkness within himself, that's where he took you," Max added, shivering a little. "It's kinda creepy, I know. But, to each his own. He found that using the knowledge he had obtained, and the mental training he had endured, he could easily harvest the darkness that dwelled within his heart, and that of others. He had a very tragic childhood; he refuses even to tell me the details. But by recalling visions from the past, he is able to strengthen the bond it has within him. He is able to restrain the darkness extremely well but..." He stopped for a moment.
"Hmm? What is it? Tell me," Qurez pressured him, wanting to know.
Maximilian sighed. "I did some research on the power of darkness myself, intrigued on what I may find, but I made a chilling discovery. Eventually, the amount of energy it produces will consume him, even against his will. He will collapse from the inside, becoming a heartless zombie. I do not tell him this though, because I know if he found out, the knowledge of his own eventual demise would bring it about. Ironic, and sad." He turned to look at his friend, still playing with Kay, teleporting from place to place as she yelled at him to hold still. Max and Qurez laughed a little.
"So why do you contact him? How will he help you get into Attica, if he himself is considered an outcast?" Qurez asked him, still confused.
"Because at this point, the only way to get into Attica will be to take it from King Belrose," Maximilian replied sternly. Qurez jumped up.
"But then you would be just as bad as he makes you out to be, rising against your former master like that, it's shameful you know," Qurez rebutted, trying to sway his decision.
Maximilian hit his hand on the ground. "He kicked me out of my homeland, framing me, saying that I killed someone I did not. Not just anyone mind you...I was treated so harshly because...the victim of the crime was my father!" Maximilian yelled the last word, his voice reverberating across the plains.
Qurez and Kay walked through the streets of Attica, full of people going about their everyday business.
"I still don't see why that blond-haired pretty boy has to send us in to deliver a message. He's such a wimp," Kay whined, openly showing her annoyance.
Qurez shook his head. "He can't come in, he's been banished, remember? We're just here to find his friend and bring him back. Max'll be waiting for us right outside the gates."
Kay puffed angrily. "He's still a little scaredy-cat. How do we know he's not gonna leave without us?"
Qurez ignored her continuous ranting and kept walking - assuming, but not hoping, she would follow him. The pair eventually arrived at a large white building, with the words 'Hall of Knowledge' crudely painted on the side in black. To the left of the words, an old door seldom used stood indented in the wall. Qurez pushed it open, surprised by what he found.
Starting from the entrance, bookcases lined the walls on the left and right. He slowly walked in, Kay following him, looking in awe at all of the books. Qurez navigated the small maze of shelves until he got to a circular open area with a staircase on the opposite side. Chandeliers were lit with many drooping candles, with red filters on the few windows that were not covered by bookcases, giving the place an eerie lighting. Qurez stepped into the marble opening, his footstep echoing lightly. He continued across to the wooden stairs, which had a length of maroon carpeting running down their middle. Kay followed him to the stairs, crossing the opening quickly. Just then, a glyph in the center of the marble began to glow, giving off black aura. Small colorless particles began to fly upwards, followed by purple lightning that spread from spec to spec. Qurez and Kay turned around after hearing the cracking of electricity and saw the threatening spectacle. Qurez drew his sword and Kay picked up a large book from a nearby shelf, ready to defend themselves from whatever might happen.
A hole appeared in the floor, slowly expanding to a three-foot diameter. A figure in a black robe floated upwards, soft winds spiraling around his body. He hovered level with the ground as it closed up under his feet. The hems of his robe were slashed in a manner that made the cuts look almost deliberate. The arms rose to lift the hood that covered the visage of the figure; Qurez gripped his sword tightly in suspense.
Long purple bangs were first uncovered, a pair of them slanting down each end of the face. Next exposed the neck and chin. A small purple patch of hair below his lip gave his face color, along with sideburns that stretched all the way down his face, to the base of his cheeks. He threw his neck back, his bangs flying backwards over his head, followed by the hood. His eyes were closed, and on his right eye rested a single eyeglass, a string flowing from it to his collar. The rest of his long purple hair fell down, stopping just short of his thighs. A gold chain hung down from his robe, one end of the chain attached to the fabric, the other end sinking into a pocket. He opened his eyes, revealing his glossy yellow pupils.
"Welcome," he mused in a chillingly surreal voice. "Welcome to the Hall of Knowledge. Can I help you?" he asked the pair, looking at them curiously.
Qurez sheathed his sword and cleared his throat, but Kay jumped in first.
"What do you think you're doing, warping in here and scaring us half to death?" She threw the tome she was holding to the floor. "Why, if I had half a mind, I'd attack you right now. Why are you staring at me like that anyways? You're the one that looks like a freak. Geez, what a creep. Why I oughta-" Thinking quickly, Qurez threw a hand over her mouth, silencing her and holding onto her tightly as she struggled against him. She finally stopped resisting and he let her go. She kicked him in the shins hard and turned the other way, pointing her nose in the air and 'hmph'ing loudly.
Qurez rubbed his leg lightly and turned back to the center of the room, but the figure had gone, he had vanished in the fray. He looked back to Kay. "See what you di-" he started, but she too had disappeared. The room began to fade away; the walls, the books, the floor, all of it ebbing away into nothingness. The figure appeared in front of Qurez, slowly materializing in the darkness. Qurez raised his fist angrily.
"Hey you, what do you think you are doing? Where's Kay!" he demanded of the figure. The man simply shook his head.
"You misunderstand me," he answered in an empty voice. "I only wanted to speak with you in someplace a little more private, without that girl interrupting us."
Qurez sighed. "Well, I can't blame you, she does get annoying after a while." He felt bad saying that, considering she had saved his life.
The man nodded. "Well, maybe she should have let you die instead of reviving you. That would have been another course of action she could have taken; mugged you and left you to be eaten by the wyverns. But she saved you, and the proof still shows," the figure replied in his unreal voice, pointing to Qurez's artificial heart. It's pounding much brighter here because of the absence of visible light. Qurez looked down and then back at the man.
"What? Hey, wait a second, how do you know about that? Who are you anyways?" he asked him, getting slightly aggravated.
The figure laughed. "You're starting to sound just like her." The man shook his head, the purple hair waving back and forth, the bangs falling in front of his face. "You want help stopping your brother right? If Maximilian trusts you, then there's no reason for me not to." The man snapped his fingers, the area slowly blurring back into view, but not the Hall of Knowledge he had left a short while ago. Qurez looked around as he and the figure appeared on the plains of Attica, where he and Kay had left Maximilian to find his friend. He saw Kay sitting on a rock, jumping up when she spotted Qurez.
"Where the Hell have you been huh? Leaving me at some smelly bookstore like that, could you be any more ungentlemanly?"
"But I was only gone for a few minutes," Qurez rebuked, but quickly took back his statement as he looked to the sky. The moon could be seen on high; he must have been away for hours at least. Qurez turned around to where the purple haired man stood, quietly speaking with Maximilian. He cleaned his eyeglass with the sleeve of his robe as he conversed. He and Max turned to Qurez, who was looked at them perplexedly. Max stepped forward to speak.
"Hello Qurez. It appears your mission was a success, though it did take longer than I thought it would." Max thought for a moment. "Oh right, this is Andrew," he blurted, turning and glancing at the purple-headed black mage. "You two have already met if I'm not mistaken, I asked for you to bring him here, though it was in a fairly unorthodox way. I expected you to escort him here, not the other way around."
Kay saw Andrew and exploded into a fury of rage. "You!" she shouted, running towards him. "Who do you think you are? Disappearing and reappearing at will. When I want to talk to you, you'd better respond." She moved her leg to kick him but he evaporated, appearing again a few feet away. "You little!" Kay yelled, racing after Andrew, trying to hit him as he would teleport away. Maximilian shook his head at the sight and turned back to Qurez.
"That should keep those two busy for a moment. Kay was really worried about you while you were gone," Max added quietly. "I think she likes you Qurez, you know liiikes you," he teased, folding his hands together and batting his eyelashes. Qurez laughed and sat down.
"So who is Andrew, and why did you send us to find him?" Qurez asked Max. The blond-haired wyvern rider sat down across from him and sighed.
"Well, long story short, he was one of my supporters when I was ousted from Attica. Most of them were caught and also exiled, but he hid in the Hall of Knowledge. He had always been a scholar, and we have communicated through secret letters over the past few years. While living in the Hall, he learned the arts of meditation, going without food for weeks at a time. Eventually, he discovered a plane of darkness within himself, that's where he took you," Max added, shivering a little. "It's kinda creepy, I know. But, to each his own. He found that using the knowledge he had obtained, and the mental training he had endured, he could easily harvest the darkness that dwelled within his heart, and that of others. He had a very tragic childhood; he refuses even to tell me the details. But by recalling visions from the past, he is able to strengthen the bond it has within him. He is able to restrain the darkness extremely well but..." He stopped for a moment.
"Hmm? What is it? Tell me," Qurez pressured him, wanting to know.
Maximilian sighed. "I did some research on the power of darkness myself, intrigued on what I may find, but I made a chilling discovery. Eventually, the amount of energy it produces will consume him, even against his will. He will collapse from the inside, becoming a heartless zombie. I do not tell him this though, because I know if he found out, the knowledge of his own eventual demise would bring it about. Ironic, and sad." He turned to look at his friend, still playing with Kay, teleporting from place to place as she yelled at him to hold still. Max and Qurez laughed a little.
"So why do you contact him? How will he help you get into Attica, if he himself is considered an outcast?" Qurez asked him, still confused.
"Because at this point, the only way to get into Attica will be to take it from King Belrose," Maximilian replied sternly. Qurez jumped up.
"But then you would be just as bad as he makes you out to be, rising against your former master like that, it's shameful you know," Qurez rebutted, trying to sway his decision.
Maximilian hit his hand on the ground. "He kicked me out of my homeland, framing me, saying that I killed someone I did not. Not just anyone mind you...I was treated so harshly because...the victim of the crime was my father!" Maximilian yelled the last word, his voice reverberating across the plains.
Pheidippides
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- Posted: Sat, 19 Feb 2005 22:25:07 +0000
((No reviews yet? crying Some read this, pwease?))
Pheidippides
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- Posted: Sat, 19 Feb 2005 22:33:33 +0000
<center>Chapter 7: Pursuit, Return to Attica</center>
The sun rose over the peaks of the cliffs, shining down onto the canyon in which Orion's castle could be found. The light brought with it a messenger, riding from Dusk's castle to James and Crimson. He carried the news of Qurez's survival, ready to report to the captains of the wyvern castle. He rode his horse down the chasm, quickly approaching the castle as it swelled on the horizon. A wyvern flew overhead, swooping down low so it hovered but a few feet above the rider. The shadow cast a black outline on the ground, shielding the messenger from the morning sun. The scaly beast flapped its wings, floating back upwards, joining a group of other wyverns as they circled around the cliffs.
As the messenger approached the gates to the castle, the gate captain, who inquired as to his identity, halted his progress. He handed the captain his papers, and after looking through the sheets thoroughly, the captain handed them back. The messenger dismounted his horse, leaving it at the gate, and rushed through the castle entrance, jogging up the flights of stairs. James and Crimson were in the throne room, the cousins overseeing the repair of the stained glass window that Maximilian's wyvern had broken through. The messenger approached, kneeling before the pair and announcing himself. James and Crimson turned around, looking at the man who had ridden from Dusk. James took his message and looked it over. Crimson peered over his shoulder and snatched the orders from James when he had finished reading them. Crim glanced at the parts he had missed and folded it up neatly, shoving the paper into his pocket.
"Well well well, it would seem Dusk needs us to take care of a little sibling rivalry, eh Crim?" James turned to his red haired partner. Crim nodded, pointing to himself with his thumb.
"No Crim, we should go together. It's best not to travel alone you know." Crim gave a slight wave of his hand, intently focusing on James.
"Yes, I know the message called for only one of us to track him down, but we should both go, regardless of what it says. You and I have always traveled together Crim," James rebutted, trying to keep his cousin from going alone.
Crimson shook his head, pointing an accusing finger at James and then the ground, stomping his foot.
"Yea, you're right. Someone needs to stay here and oversee the castle. Alright, good luck then." James saluted his scarlet haired comrade and Crimson returned the gesture.
He walked away, into the hallway and turning right, heading towards the barracks. He reached the end of the hallway and made another right, stopping at the door to the barracks, which he opened with a push of his hand. The armory waited on the far side of the bunks, the soldiers sitting on their beds, talking to each other and sleeping. Crim reached the weapon racks, and grabbed his steel bow, quiver, and leather armor, which he had on his own personal stand placed next to James', who had two separate stands; one for his heavy armor, and another for his b*****d sword. Crimson secured the flaps on the armor, slinging the bow on his back and the quiver at his waist, filling it with arrows that were resting in a large wooden bucket nearby.
As he walked out of the room, his two elite guards followed him, one with a sword and the other with a lance. They traced his steps as he went down the hallway, headed towards the stables. Just before Crim entered, two of James' bodyguards approached him and bowed.
"James has asked us to stay with you my lord," presented the guard on the right. Each of the soldiers had a weapon as well, the one on the right with a spear, and a sword hanging from the others waist.
Crimson put a hand to his forehead, sighing silently. "I might as well humor him," the sniper thought, continuing his walk down the hallway after he had nodded in acceptance to James' troops.
Crim walked down the spiral staircase, his footsteps and those of the guards echoing softly down the passageway. It led them to the stable, where Crimson chose a horse for himself, not having one pre-selected for his own personal use. The guards mounted the horses they had already been assigned to use, trotting the animals to Crimson's side. The archer kicked his horse and rode for the stable doors, which were flung open by the stable hands. Crim rode his horse through the guards following him slowly, flanking his left and right, riding in a V-shaped formation. The arrow they formed pointed directly towards the side of the cliff face, where a large boulder concealed an opening in the face of the rock, leading to a path. The path wove through a small mountain range, with Attica lying in wait on the other side. The regal city's golden towers were gleaming in the bright sunlight, not a cloud in the sky.
"Attica is known for its good weather you know," Kay explained to Qurez. She was stood on the roof of the Hall of Knowledge, the white ceiling under her giving off small waves of heat. Qurez sat on the ledge, looking at the royal palace of King Belrose. The only thing separating the Hall from the castle being a large wall that surrounded the castle, with a gate in the center. It had been three days since they had found Andrew. The group decided to sneak back into the city, nearly getting caught by one of the night patrols, but arrived safely at the Hall of Knowledge. Maximilian and Andrew were sitting on the other side of the roof, looking down at the streets and out at the horizon alternately.
"I'm going to go crazy if we sit up here any longer Andrew," Maximilian groaned, his nerves riding on edge. "I can't just wait here and watch the guards, memorizing their patrol patterns. Why can't we just attack Belrose now? If we act quickly and do it at night, we should be able to do it with minimum bloodshed."
"But why have any violence at all?" Andrew replied quickly. The sun shone off his monocle, creating a shimmer of light on the rim. He reflexively removed it and cleaned it with his robe. "If we gain the upper hand with intelligence, we can prevail without harming anyone but Belrose himself. That way, the people will still love you. If we run in; swords drawn, banner flying, the plebs will believe Belrose's statement that you killed your father even more firmly. By showing that you are a pacifist, your underlying nature of peace will evince itself, and the masses will be guaranteed to support you. Just wait while longer, and we will have the information we need to move in."
"Bah," Max grunted, though he mentally admitted that Andrew's logic had proved his own wrong. He slouched down, keeping a lazy eye on the patrol guard that had just left the castle. Andrew jotted down the time the guard had left on a sheet of paper, filled with quickly scrawled notes of dates, times, places, and people.
Qurez watched the guard turn the corner as it exited his view and entered Max and Andrew's. Kay sat down next to him, dragging a finger back and forth on the stone ledge, trying hard to amuse herself.
"I am sooo bored," she sighed, lying back on the ledge, letting one arm drape over the side of the building. Qurez agreed with a yawn. He had had hardly any sleep lately, keeping watch on nightly rotations that seemed to give him less sleep than the others. Qurez swiveled his neck back and forth, pushing on his chin to rotate his head farther back. His neck cracked repeatedly, releasing tension that had built up. He looked across the street to the palace again, glancing at one of the balconies. He continued to scan the wall of the castle again. He stopped and did a double take, focusing back on the balcony.
A young girl leaned against the rail of the overhang with her elbows, bending her hands back up to her head, resting it in her palms. She looked to be in her mid-teens, with smooth skin and long hair. The hair a dirty blond color, streaks of brown and yellow clashing with each other, contained within the strands of hair. She nibbled on her fingernails as she looked out over the city. She wore a small tiara on her head encrusted with various gemstones. A silk gown covered her body, flowing lightly in passing winds. Qurez leaned forward, squinting his eyes to try and focus better on the young maiden.
Maximilian saw Qurez and traced his gaze to see what he focused on. Max stood up, leaving Andrew on the far side of the roof, and walked towards Qurez slowly. He sat down next to the boy, inching closer to him.
"That's Princess Viola," Max elucidated slowly. "She's King Belrose's daughter. Beautiful, isn't she?" Qurez turned to Max and nodded. He looked back at Viola, tilting his head slightly.
"Don't let her appearance fool you, she is a master swordsman." Maximilian stood up slowly and let Qurez continue his gawking. Viola turned her gaze upon him, looking at him curiously. She smiled warmly from across the wall, giving him a slight wave of her hand. Qurez suddenly got nervous and lost balance, falling off the edge of the roof. Max turned away, trying to keep a serious expression on his face while Kay peered over the edge to see if Qurez had been injured. Viola laughed at him and then noticed Maximilian. He looked at her as well, their gazes locking together momentarily. Viola frowned and turned around, walking away from the balcony, back into the castle.
Qurez stood up slowly, dusting himself off. It wasn't that far of a fall, and he had managed to land on a soft spot of the ground. "Good thing my neck was there to break the fall," he muttered to himself. He looked up at the Max and Kay, seeing them peek over the edge at him. Andrew's head also poked out between them, trying to see what had happened.
"I'm ok," Qurez hushed, waving his arms. He didn't speak too loudly, not wanting to catch the attention of any guards. He walked towards the door of the Hall of Knowledge, opening it and entering. He walked to the center circle, where Andrew had appeared earlier. The floor under him rocked slowly, and then floated up. He calmly stood on the marble, letting it carry him upwards. He walked off once it had stopped level with the dusty roof. He walked over to the others, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand.
"It's going to be a long wait..." Maximilian whispered to Andrew, who nodded in approval.
The sun rose over the peaks of the cliffs, shining down onto the canyon in which Orion's castle could be found. The light brought with it a messenger, riding from Dusk's castle to James and Crimson. He carried the news of Qurez's survival, ready to report to the captains of the wyvern castle. He rode his horse down the chasm, quickly approaching the castle as it swelled on the horizon. A wyvern flew overhead, swooping down low so it hovered but a few feet above the rider. The shadow cast a black outline on the ground, shielding the messenger from the morning sun. The scaly beast flapped its wings, floating back upwards, joining a group of other wyverns as they circled around the cliffs.
As the messenger approached the gates to the castle, the gate captain, who inquired as to his identity, halted his progress. He handed the captain his papers, and after looking through the sheets thoroughly, the captain handed them back. The messenger dismounted his horse, leaving it at the gate, and rushed through the castle entrance, jogging up the flights of stairs. James and Crimson were in the throne room, the cousins overseeing the repair of the stained glass window that Maximilian's wyvern had broken through. The messenger approached, kneeling before the pair and announcing himself. James and Crimson turned around, looking at the man who had ridden from Dusk. James took his message and looked it over. Crimson peered over his shoulder and snatched the orders from James when he had finished reading them. Crim glanced at the parts he had missed and folded it up neatly, shoving the paper into his pocket.
"Well well well, it would seem Dusk needs us to take care of a little sibling rivalry, eh Crim?" James turned to his red haired partner. Crim nodded, pointing to himself with his thumb.
"No Crim, we should go together. It's best not to travel alone you know." Crim gave a slight wave of his hand, intently focusing on James.
"Yes, I know the message called for only one of us to track him down, but we should both go, regardless of what it says. You and I have always traveled together Crim," James rebutted, trying to keep his cousin from going alone.
Crimson shook his head, pointing an accusing finger at James and then the ground, stomping his foot.
"Yea, you're right. Someone needs to stay here and oversee the castle. Alright, good luck then." James saluted his scarlet haired comrade and Crimson returned the gesture.
He walked away, into the hallway and turning right, heading towards the barracks. He reached the end of the hallway and made another right, stopping at the door to the barracks, which he opened with a push of his hand. The armory waited on the far side of the bunks, the soldiers sitting on their beds, talking to each other and sleeping. Crim reached the weapon racks, and grabbed his steel bow, quiver, and leather armor, which he had on his own personal stand placed next to James', who had two separate stands; one for his heavy armor, and another for his b*****d sword. Crimson secured the flaps on the armor, slinging the bow on his back and the quiver at his waist, filling it with arrows that were resting in a large wooden bucket nearby.
As he walked out of the room, his two elite guards followed him, one with a sword and the other with a lance. They traced his steps as he went down the hallway, headed towards the stables. Just before Crim entered, two of James' bodyguards approached him and bowed.
"James has asked us to stay with you my lord," presented the guard on the right. Each of the soldiers had a weapon as well, the one on the right with a spear, and a sword hanging from the others waist.
Crimson put a hand to his forehead, sighing silently. "I might as well humor him," the sniper thought, continuing his walk down the hallway after he had nodded in acceptance to James' troops.
Crim walked down the spiral staircase, his footsteps and those of the guards echoing softly down the passageway. It led them to the stable, where Crimson chose a horse for himself, not having one pre-selected for his own personal use. The guards mounted the horses they had already been assigned to use, trotting the animals to Crimson's side. The archer kicked his horse and rode for the stable doors, which were flung open by the stable hands. Crim rode his horse through the guards following him slowly, flanking his left and right, riding in a V-shaped formation. The arrow they formed pointed directly towards the side of the cliff face, where a large boulder concealed an opening in the face of the rock, leading to a path. The path wove through a small mountain range, with Attica lying in wait on the other side. The regal city's golden towers were gleaming in the bright sunlight, not a cloud in the sky.
"Attica is known for its good weather you know," Kay explained to Qurez. She was stood on the roof of the Hall of Knowledge, the white ceiling under her giving off small waves of heat. Qurez sat on the ledge, looking at the royal palace of King Belrose. The only thing separating the Hall from the castle being a large wall that surrounded the castle, with a gate in the center. It had been three days since they had found Andrew. The group decided to sneak back into the city, nearly getting caught by one of the night patrols, but arrived safely at the Hall of Knowledge. Maximilian and Andrew were sitting on the other side of the roof, looking down at the streets and out at the horizon alternately.
"I'm going to go crazy if we sit up here any longer Andrew," Maximilian groaned, his nerves riding on edge. "I can't just wait here and watch the guards, memorizing their patrol patterns. Why can't we just attack Belrose now? If we act quickly and do it at night, we should be able to do it with minimum bloodshed."
"But why have any violence at all?" Andrew replied quickly. The sun shone off his monocle, creating a shimmer of light on the rim. He reflexively removed it and cleaned it with his robe. "If we gain the upper hand with intelligence, we can prevail without harming anyone but Belrose himself. That way, the people will still love you. If we run in; swords drawn, banner flying, the plebs will believe Belrose's statement that you killed your father even more firmly. By showing that you are a pacifist, your underlying nature of peace will evince itself, and the masses will be guaranteed to support you. Just wait while longer, and we will have the information we need to move in."
"Bah," Max grunted, though he mentally admitted that Andrew's logic had proved his own wrong. He slouched down, keeping a lazy eye on the patrol guard that had just left the castle. Andrew jotted down the time the guard had left on a sheet of paper, filled with quickly scrawled notes of dates, times, places, and people.
Qurez watched the guard turn the corner as it exited his view and entered Max and Andrew's. Kay sat down next to him, dragging a finger back and forth on the stone ledge, trying hard to amuse herself.
"I am sooo bored," she sighed, lying back on the ledge, letting one arm drape over the side of the building. Qurez agreed with a yawn. He had had hardly any sleep lately, keeping watch on nightly rotations that seemed to give him less sleep than the others. Qurez swiveled his neck back and forth, pushing on his chin to rotate his head farther back. His neck cracked repeatedly, releasing tension that had built up. He looked across the street to the palace again, glancing at one of the balconies. He continued to scan the wall of the castle again. He stopped and did a double take, focusing back on the balcony.
A young girl leaned against the rail of the overhang with her elbows, bending her hands back up to her head, resting it in her palms. She looked to be in her mid-teens, with smooth skin and long hair. The hair a dirty blond color, streaks of brown and yellow clashing with each other, contained within the strands of hair. She nibbled on her fingernails as she looked out over the city. She wore a small tiara on her head encrusted with various gemstones. A silk gown covered her body, flowing lightly in passing winds. Qurez leaned forward, squinting his eyes to try and focus better on the young maiden.
Maximilian saw Qurez and traced his gaze to see what he focused on. Max stood up, leaving Andrew on the far side of the roof, and walked towards Qurez slowly. He sat down next to the boy, inching closer to him.
"That's Princess Viola," Max elucidated slowly. "She's King Belrose's daughter. Beautiful, isn't she?" Qurez turned to Max and nodded. He looked back at Viola, tilting his head slightly.
"Don't let her appearance fool you, she is a master swordsman." Maximilian stood up slowly and let Qurez continue his gawking. Viola turned her gaze upon him, looking at him curiously. She smiled warmly from across the wall, giving him a slight wave of her hand. Qurez suddenly got nervous and lost balance, falling off the edge of the roof. Max turned away, trying to keep a serious expression on his face while Kay peered over the edge to see if Qurez had been injured. Viola laughed at him and then noticed Maximilian. He looked at her as well, their gazes locking together momentarily. Viola frowned and turned around, walking away from the balcony, back into the castle.
Qurez stood up slowly, dusting himself off. It wasn't that far of a fall, and he had managed to land on a soft spot of the ground. "Good thing my neck was there to break the fall," he muttered to himself. He looked up at the Max and Kay, seeing them peek over the edge at him. Andrew's head also poked out between them, trying to see what had happened.
"I'm ok," Qurez hushed, waving his arms. He didn't speak too loudly, not wanting to catch the attention of any guards. He walked towards the door of the Hall of Knowledge, opening it and entering. He walked to the center circle, where Andrew had appeared earlier. The floor under him rocked slowly, and then floated up. He calmly stood on the marble, letting it carry him upwards. He walked off once it had stopped level with the dusty roof. He walked over to the others, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand.
"It's going to be a long wait..." Maximilian whispered to Andrew, who nodded in approval.
Pheidippides
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- Posted: Sat, 19 Feb 2005 22:53:13 +0000
<center>Chapter 8: A Dark Alliance</center>
Two guards stood outside the arched gateway that led into Dusk's castle, both facing each other. One looked to the East, and the other to the West. They both would watch as armies passed through, messengers coming in, supplies going out. But when nothing happened, all they had to look at was the other and the sun.
In the morning, the sun would rise to the East. One guard would see the light, and try to describe to the other soldier how beautiful it was. The darkness of the clouds slowly flowing away from the light that came shining through over the hills that caged the sun at night. The rays of sun pierced through the sky like daggers, beams of light squeezing their way into the sky. But no matter how hard he tried; he could not prevail in his endeavor to portray the image.
At noon, the sun would exit from the first soldier's vision, and enter that of the seconds. When evening approached, this soldier too would see a beautiful anomaly of the sun, it's setting. Every time was different, sometimes rich purples would cascade in from the left and right, encompassing the sun in a wave of color. Occasionally, bright pinks and fluorescent oranges would spread from the focal point of the golden orb, instilling their hues into the blue sky slowly, until all was covered by light. But just as his comrades quest ended in failure, so did his. Undaunted by their attempts to elucidate the visions to one another, they tried time and again, day after day.
One month passed, and they were told to switch positions, so the one that faced east looked west, and the one who saw the west, focused east. Now, they thought, perhaps the other would see the beauty he saw in his own view. When the sun rose on the first day, the soldier that watched the set waited with anticipation. As the sphere peeked over the horizon, he was met with disappointment. So dull this was he reflected, recollecting the view of the sunset. He let his feelings be heard, telling his partner that the sunrise was surely inferior to its setting.
Hurt and angry, the second guard waited with baited breath until nightfall, to see if the evening sun was truly superior to the one that appeared in the morning. He too felt cheated as he witnessed the sight, knowing for a fact that his own familiar sunrise was much better than this second-rate sun feat. Voicing his own opinion, about the suns actions, he slandered the other guard and his view of how the sun acted. The other countered, explaining why his sun was far better than his friends. However, they argued on through the night, and friend soon turned to ally, ally to neutral, and neutral to enemy.
The following morning when the sun rose, a man on a horse approached the castle. Both of the guards were lying on the ground dead, the spear of the other shoved through their chests. The sun finished its climb over the peaks, shining rays of light onto the bodies of the soldiers. The blood from the two pooled together into one crimson conglomeration, spawned from their differences. The man smiled slyly to himself, with a slight chuckle under his breath. "Fools," he mumbled in a cool, collected voice.
He trotted his horse between the two, its hooves splashing in the blood and trailing it into the stone gate where the portcullis was up, left open by the former guards. His steed was of the purest black, not a hair of another hue to be found on its body, with the exception of the red stains now painted on its feet. The man's clothing differed not from his horse in the eloquence of black.
He wore no armor, not even a weapon, but rather, quite tasteful attire. Close-toed obsidian leather boots adorned his feet, strapped around his upper ankles with silver buckles. He held the reins of the horse loosely in his gloved hands. A white shirt, whose turquoise buttons ran up the middle of the chest, was concealed by a shimmering midnight tuxedo, dusty and wrinkled from the ride. Hair the same tint of his garments garlanded his head, draping around his ears and growing longer in the back, tied into a ponytail. His sable eyebrows were thin but sharply slanted inwards, colliding with the dark crescents that had formed under his eyes, like a four-legged black starfish imbued onto his face.
The mysterious stranger halted his horse's slow trot into the entry, the blood trickling down its hooves. He slid his left leg over the saddle, taking a small hop off of his mount, his boots clapping on the pavement. He turned on his toes and walked towards the inner gate, turning to a guard that stood there.
"I'm a courier from Lady Shrita, with a message for Dusk," the man crooned in his calm intonation. His right hand reached into his jacket and pulled out his identification papers, handing them to the guard. The latter glanced at them without taking them into his hands.
"Sorry, I can't let you in," the guard declined, shaking his head. "We don't have an alliance with Lady Shrita."
"Not yet you don't," the man replied, withdrawing his papers back to the sanctity of his jacket. "But if you let me in, you might..."
The guard called for someone to open the gate and escort the newcomer to the large meeting chamber. The escort put his hand on the man's shoulder, which was immediately shrugged off.
"I don't need you to hold my hand, I've been here before," the man warned, walking through the gate as the guard that was assigned to accompany him followed. The man in black stopped at a tall door with a sweeping frame. The guard pushed it open for him.
"Take a seat," the attendant said, motioning to one of the many chairs that were placed around a rectangular table. "Dusk will be here when he is ready." The guard walked away, leaving the man to the room. The fancifully dressed messenger walked down the right row of chairs, running his left hand over their backs. He stopped when he had come to the head of the table, where a golden throne, draped in red velvet, stood at an imposingly high level. The man chuckled to himself softly again, stepping up the single stair that stood in front of it. He sat leisurely on the throne, running his fingers through the cushioned armrests.
"Someday you will be mine, just wait my dear, just wait..." He closed his eyes and sunk into the plush pads, basking in imaginary glory.
He felt his shirt tighten suddenly, and could smell Belgar before he opened his eyes to look at him. He blinked them open innocently, staring up at the bald giant who currently had a meaty hand clenched on the front of his elegant tuxedo. Belgar lifted him into the air, and the man made to resistance, simply looking at Belgar and laughing a little.
"What are you laughing at Jack?" Belgar roared loudly, spittle flying from his mouth and spattering on Jacks clothing. "How dare you defile Dusks throne with your dirty a**. You sicken me you pretty boy, you're nothing but Shrita's little lap dog!"
"Heh...Those are some big words coming from you Belgar," Jack mused pleasantly. "Looks like Orion wasn't strong enough, so you decided to be Dusks b***h instead. Not that I can blame you, Orion did have a bit of a thick head. Like master, like disciple."
Belgar reared his arm back and threw Jack to his left towards the stone wall, which Jack collided with accompanied by a few quiet cracks. Jack fell into a heap on the ground but was up in a flash. He did not look at Belgar angrily; in fact, he just continued to wear his comical grin. He twisted his neck left and right, relieving the bones of stress as they popped.
"And by the way," he added, straightening his clothing. "I prefer to be called the Sorceress' Knight, not her lap dog." He smoothed out the lower portion of his tuxedo and looked back at Belgar, whose attempts to look infuriated only made him laugh more. "Let's face it, Lady Shrita had the brains of the empire, not to mention me. Lord Lyncyn had the most land and troops, along with Dusks power. But Orion...Well, he had nothing. But even worse, he had you."
Belgar reflexively reached for the axe he normally had holstered on his back, but his hand felt nothing. He then remembered that James had broken in their last battle, and he had forgotten to get a new one re-forged. Not that it mattered; he only needed brute force to smash this little insect. He ran at Jack with surprising speed and his right arm drawn back like a piston. He brought it forward with another roar that echoed around the halls of the castle, completely missing Jack who had simply sidestepped to avoid the blow, and watched with erupting laughter as Belgars arm make a wide hole in the rock wall. Belgar turned to Jack with his arm drawn to slap him with the back of his hand, but it was stopped and held by someone behind him.
"That's no way to treat guests Belgar, especially ones who come bearing good news," Dusk announced, releasing his grip on Belgars wrist. "Now apologize to our visitor." Belgar observed Dusk with his peripheral vision and then glanced back at Jack, boring a hole through him with his venomous gaze.
"I beg your pardon," Belgar mockingly pleaded, walking to the chair that stood next to Dusks throne and sitting down, keeping a close eye on Jack until Dusk was seated. He didn't like all of these little people running around the empires; Maximilian and Jack were his two least favorite. At least now he could smash one of them without excuse. But Jack...Hopefully they would be enemies someday.
"Now then, I have been told Lady Shrita sent you Jack, with rumors of a possible alliance. Is this so?" Dusk questioned Jack, leaning forward in his throne.
"That is precisely what she wants," Jack replied, nodding slightly. The black lines under his eyes seemed to have faded away for a moment from all the laughter, but they were now redefining themselves. "She, unlike Orion," Jack shot a quick and equally venomous look at Belgar, "understands how powerful you are, and that you act in the name of the Evil Empire. Of course, as part of the empire, Shrita will do anything she can to help. Since you now own Orion's territory as well as Lyncyn's land, we were hoping you could give us the Shrieking Plains between Orion and Shritas land, under the assumption that you aren't using it that is."
It didn't take long for Belgar to cut in with his demurring remarks. "That land is vast, it would be like giving you the keys to the empire!" He voiced this more at Dusk than at Jack, hoping he would see things from his perspective.
"Shrita wants that desolate wasteland? Fine, take it. In exchange for an alliance, and Shrita's loyalty to my new rule." Dusk said carelessly, waving his hand as if to dismiss the land to Shrita. A grin crept across Jacks face as Belgar balled his fists into giant hams.
"We thank you for your cooperation," Jack replied graciously, bowing to Dusk and then turning to walk away.
"Oh, and Jack..." Dusk noted, stopping Shrita's messenger for a moment. "Tell Shrita that any seditious behavior will be met with dereliction, followed closely by her obliteration." Jack laughed silently to himself at Dusk's verboseness; he had always tried to be overly literate.
"I'll think about it," Jack sniggered, not turning around to expose his wide grin. He walked back down the hallway he had taken and to the front gate. His horse was still standing sentinel, waiting for his master to return.
"Come on Hex Mark," he whispered into its ear, mounting up and tugging at his reins, lifting its hooves and breaking the seal of dried blood that stuck its hooves to the stone floor. Jack turned Hex Mark around and rode slowly out of the gate.
"The planes of equality are dissipating," he muttered out loud, dropping his grin for a dreadful frown. He began to think to himself about the way things used to be before Dusk usurped the Empire. "Dusk, Belgar, and I used to all be equals under Lyncyn, Orion, and Shrita. But now Dusk has ruined everything. We were doing just fine before he interrupted things. I think it's about time I took matters into my own hands..."
He rode south to the Shrieking Plains, and Lady Shritas domain.
Two guards stood outside the arched gateway that led into Dusk's castle, both facing each other. One looked to the East, and the other to the West. They both would watch as armies passed through, messengers coming in, supplies going out. But when nothing happened, all they had to look at was the other and the sun.
In the morning, the sun would rise to the East. One guard would see the light, and try to describe to the other soldier how beautiful it was. The darkness of the clouds slowly flowing away from the light that came shining through over the hills that caged the sun at night. The rays of sun pierced through the sky like daggers, beams of light squeezing their way into the sky. But no matter how hard he tried; he could not prevail in his endeavor to portray the image.
At noon, the sun would exit from the first soldier's vision, and enter that of the seconds. When evening approached, this soldier too would see a beautiful anomaly of the sun, it's setting. Every time was different, sometimes rich purples would cascade in from the left and right, encompassing the sun in a wave of color. Occasionally, bright pinks and fluorescent oranges would spread from the focal point of the golden orb, instilling their hues into the blue sky slowly, until all was covered by light. But just as his comrades quest ended in failure, so did his. Undaunted by their attempts to elucidate the visions to one another, they tried time and again, day after day.
One month passed, and they were told to switch positions, so the one that faced east looked west, and the one who saw the west, focused east. Now, they thought, perhaps the other would see the beauty he saw in his own view. When the sun rose on the first day, the soldier that watched the set waited with anticipation. As the sphere peeked over the horizon, he was met with disappointment. So dull this was he reflected, recollecting the view of the sunset. He let his feelings be heard, telling his partner that the sunrise was surely inferior to its setting.
Hurt and angry, the second guard waited with baited breath until nightfall, to see if the evening sun was truly superior to the one that appeared in the morning. He too felt cheated as he witnessed the sight, knowing for a fact that his own familiar sunrise was much better than this second-rate sun feat. Voicing his own opinion, about the suns actions, he slandered the other guard and his view of how the sun acted. The other countered, explaining why his sun was far better than his friends. However, they argued on through the night, and friend soon turned to ally, ally to neutral, and neutral to enemy.
The following morning when the sun rose, a man on a horse approached the castle. Both of the guards were lying on the ground dead, the spear of the other shoved through their chests. The sun finished its climb over the peaks, shining rays of light onto the bodies of the soldiers. The blood from the two pooled together into one crimson conglomeration, spawned from their differences. The man smiled slyly to himself, with a slight chuckle under his breath. "Fools," he mumbled in a cool, collected voice.
He trotted his horse between the two, its hooves splashing in the blood and trailing it into the stone gate where the portcullis was up, left open by the former guards. His steed was of the purest black, not a hair of another hue to be found on its body, with the exception of the red stains now painted on its feet. The man's clothing differed not from his horse in the eloquence of black.
He wore no armor, not even a weapon, but rather, quite tasteful attire. Close-toed obsidian leather boots adorned his feet, strapped around his upper ankles with silver buckles. He held the reins of the horse loosely in his gloved hands. A white shirt, whose turquoise buttons ran up the middle of the chest, was concealed by a shimmering midnight tuxedo, dusty and wrinkled from the ride. Hair the same tint of his garments garlanded his head, draping around his ears and growing longer in the back, tied into a ponytail. His sable eyebrows were thin but sharply slanted inwards, colliding with the dark crescents that had formed under his eyes, like a four-legged black starfish imbued onto his face.
The mysterious stranger halted his horse's slow trot into the entry, the blood trickling down its hooves. He slid his left leg over the saddle, taking a small hop off of his mount, his boots clapping on the pavement. He turned on his toes and walked towards the inner gate, turning to a guard that stood there.
"I'm a courier from Lady Shrita, with a message for Dusk," the man crooned in his calm intonation. His right hand reached into his jacket and pulled out his identification papers, handing them to the guard. The latter glanced at them without taking them into his hands.
"Sorry, I can't let you in," the guard declined, shaking his head. "We don't have an alliance with Lady Shrita."
"Not yet you don't," the man replied, withdrawing his papers back to the sanctity of his jacket. "But if you let me in, you might..."
The guard called for someone to open the gate and escort the newcomer to the large meeting chamber. The escort put his hand on the man's shoulder, which was immediately shrugged off.
"I don't need you to hold my hand, I've been here before," the man warned, walking through the gate as the guard that was assigned to accompany him followed. The man in black stopped at a tall door with a sweeping frame. The guard pushed it open for him.
"Take a seat," the attendant said, motioning to one of the many chairs that were placed around a rectangular table. "Dusk will be here when he is ready." The guard walked away, leaving the man to the room. The fancifully dressed messenger walked down the right row of chairs, running his left hand over their backs. He stopped when he had come to the head of the table, where a golden throne, draped in red velvet, stood at an imposingly high level. The man chuckled to himself softly again, stepping up the single stair that stood in front of it. He sat leisurely on the throne, running his fingers through the cushioned armrests.
"Someday you will be mine, just wait my dear, just wait..." He closed his eyes and sunk into the plush pads, basking in imaginary glory.
He felt his shirt tighten suddenly, and could smell Belgar before he opened his eyes to look at him. He blinked them open innocently, staring up at the bald giant who currently had a meaty hand clenched on the front of his elegant tuxedo. Belgar lifted him into the air, and the man made to resistance, simply looking at Belgar and laughing a little.
"What are you laughing at Jack?" Belgar roared loudly, spittle flying from his mouth and spattering on Jacks clothing. "How dare you defile Dusks throne with your dirty a**. You sicken me you pretty boy, you're nothing but Shrita's little lap dog!"
"Heh...Those are some big words coming from you Belgar," Jack mused pleasantly. "Looks like Orion wasn't strong enough, so you decided to be Dusks b***h instead. Not that I can blame you, Orion did have a bit of a thick head. Like master, like disciple."
Belgar reared his arm back and threw Jack to his left towards the stone wall, which Jack collided with accompanied by a few quiet cracks. Jack fell into a heap on the ground but was up in a flash. He did not look at Belgar angrily; in fact, he just continued to wear his comical grin. He twisted his neck left and right, relieving the bones of stress as they popped.
"And by the way," he added, straightening his clothing. "I prefer to be called the Sorceress' Knight, not her lap dog." He smoothed out the lower portion of his tuxedo and looked back at Belgar, whose attempts to look infuriated only made him laugh more. "Let's face it, Lady Shrita had the brains of the empire, not to mention me. Lord Lyncyn had the most land and troops, along with Dusks power. But Orion...Well, he had nothing. But even worse, he had you."
Belgar reflexively reached for the axe he normally had holstered on his back, but his hand felt nothing. He then remembered that James had broken in their last battle, and he had forgotten to get a new one re-forged. Not that it mattered; he only needed brute force to smash this little insect. He ran at Jack with surprising speed and his right arm drawn back like a piston. He brought it forward with another roar that echoed around the halls of the castle, completely missing Jack who had simply sidestepped to avoid the blow, and watched with erupting laughter as Belgars arm make a wide hole in the rock wall. Belgar turned to Jack with his arm drawn to slap him with the back of his hand, but it was stopped and held by someone behind him.
"That's no way to treat guests Belgar, especially ones who come bearing good news," Dusk announced, releasing his grip on Belgars wrist. "Now apologize to our visitor." Belgar observed Dusk with his peripheral vision and then glanced back at Jack, boring a hole through him with his venomous gaze.
"I beg your pardon," Belgar mockingly pleaded, walking to the chair that stood next to Dusks throne and sitting down, keeping a close eye on Jack until Dusk was seated. He didn't like all of these little people running around the empires; Maximilian and Jack were his two least favorite. At least now he could smash one of them without excuse. But Jack...Hopefully they would be enemies someday.
"Now then, I have been told Lady Shrita sent you Jack, with rumors of a possible alliance. Is this so?" Dusk questioned Jack, leaning forward in his throne.
"That is precisely what she wants," Jack replied, nodding slightly. The black lines under his eyes seemed to have faded away for a moment from all the laughter, but they were now redefining themselves. "She, unlike Orion," Jack shot a quick and equally venomous look at Belgar, "understands how powerful you are, and that you act in the name of the Evil Empire. Of course, as part of the empire, Shrita will do anything she can to help. Since you now own Orion's territory as well as Lyncyn's land, we were hoping you could give us the Shrieking Plains between Orion and Shritas land, under the assumption that you aren't using it that is."
It didn't take long for Belgar to cut in with his demurring remarks. "That land is vast, it would be like giving you the keys to the empire!" He voiced this more at Dusk than at Jack, hoping he would see things from his perspective.
"Shrita wants that desolate wasteland? Fine, take it. In exchange for an alliance, and Shrita's loyalty to my new rule." Dusk said carelessly, waving his hand as if to dismiss the land to Shrita. A grin crept across Jacks face as Belgar balled his fists into giant hams.
"We thank you for your cooperation," Jack replied graciously, bowing to Dusk and then turning to walk away.
"Oh, and Jack..." Dusk noted, stopping Shrita's messenger for a moment. "Tell Shrita that any seditious behavior will be met with dereliction, followed closely by her obliteration." Jack laughed silently to himself at Dusk's verboseness; he had always tried to be overly literate.
"I'll think about it," Jack sniggered, not turning around to expose his wide grin. He walked back down the hallway he had taken and to the front gate. His horse was still standing sentinel, waiting for his master to return.
"Come on Hex Mark," he whispered into its ear, mounting up and tugging at his reins, lifting its hooves and breaking the seal of dried blood that stuck its hooves to the stone floor. Jack turned Hex Mark around and rode slowly out of the gate.
"The planes of equality are dissipating," he muttered out loud, dropping his grin for a dreadful frown. He began to think to himself about the way things used to be before Dusk usurped the Empire. "Dusk, Belgar, and I used to all be equals under Lyncyn, Orion, and Shrita. But now Dusk has ruined everything. We were doing just fine before he interrupted things. I think it's about time I took matters into my own hands..."
He rode south to the Shrieking Plains, and Lady Shritas domain.
Pheidippides
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- Posted: Sat, 19 Feb 2005 23:08:44 +0000
<center>Chapter 9: Belgar's Quest; Delaying Duty</center>
Belgar ranted and raved in his chamber, stomping on the ground and denting the wall with forceful fist blows. How dare Jack insult Orion, and Belgar himself as well? But that little squirt would get what was coming to him, as soon as he had his back turned. Belgar gave out one last stress-relieving blow on a table near his bed, which now lay crumbled in splinters. He sat down on the edge of his hard bunk and sighed, a motion that for him was not as quiet as most. His axe was smashed, and he was shamed. But worst of all, he could not regain his honor. All the ones who defeated him were now his allies. But before his honor could be regained, he would need a new weapon.
Belgar stood, his bed creaking, and he walked to the door of his room, pushing it open. Usually, knobs were small and he couldn't work them with his large fingers, but he found that breaking the latch was usually a good second for a man of his...stature. He found Dusk enjoying a late lunch, it had been four or five hours since their meeting with Jack; the sun was halfway between high noon and its setting. He walked into Dusks private commons, the lord glancing up to see him, his eye patch twitching slightly.
"What is it Belgar?" he asked in an annoyed tone. He was still slightly angry at Belgar's insubordination with Jack earlier, and unlike Orion, he disapproved of arguments between possible friends. "All it does is drive away any chance you have of using the person to your advantage," he recalled his reprimanding of Belgar. The giant slowly lurched towards Dusk.
"As you know, James shattered my axe to pieces when your army made a final assault on Orion's Castle. All that I could recover was the head of the weapon, but it has been worn out from years of cleaving. As much as I like ripping peoples throats out with my bare hands, a weapon is usually useful on the battlefield. But...I'm afraid a weapon suited for someone like me cannot be found in your armory. So I am at an impasse, I don't know where to find a tool I could use in melee." Belgar finished his statement with a bit of desperation, hoping it would help him win favor with Dusk. The one-eyed fighter pondered Belgar's quandary, rubbing his chin.
"There is one thing," Dusk replied after about a minute of thinking. "I heard in my many travels there is a weapon that may suit your strength. Legend says it's a giant scythe once wielded by Thanatos, the worldly embodiment of death. The might of this soul-harvesting weapon could indeed be described as death incarnate by itself. But, since it was originally constructed by Daedalus, a master craftsman of ancient times, as a gift to the Angel of Death for his life to be spared eternally, he made it with no defensive purposes in mind. After all, the Angel of Death has no fear of injury. But when Thanatos broke his promise and killed Daedalus regardless of their pact, the weapon would no longer allow itself to be wielded by its master. They say Thanatos was so enraged, he threw the scythe into Mount Myhria. And there it has rested for seven centuries, or so the legends say." Dusk had closed his eye, reminiscing of the man who had told him the tale. He was a very strange character, with purple hair and a monocle that reminded him of his own eye decor. But that was beside the point. Dusk lifted his chin from where he was resting it on his palms and opened his eye, keeping it focused on Belgar.
"I will give you one week to get to Myhria, three days to climb the mountain and obtain the weapon, and another seven to return here. Be warned, as you will face the extremes of temperatures. The Northern Wasteland is the most barren plain you will find, with winds that could freeze the air in your lungs. The innards of Mount Myhria however, are filled with a substance they call 'fire water', and the final part of the legend states that Thanatos also placed a guardian over the weapon, just in case one should quest for its power. But I trust that will give you no trouble, right Belgar?" Dusk smiled at his minion, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. "Make sure you stop at the scroll room and pick up a map. I'm sure you know where to find them."
Belgar was going to reply with a smart-a** comment, but decided to hold his tongue. His lord had given him a seventeen-day leave. Perhaps he should express gratitude, he thought. He bowed low to Dusk.
"Thank you my liege. When I receive this power, I shall use it in only your name." He turned around and left the room, turning right towards the library. Dusk smiled to himself cunningly.
"It's always good to let them dream, for a little while anyways..." He turned back to his food but discovered he was no longer hungry after telling such a long tale, so instead pushed his plate of food away. He slowly moved a hand to his chest, feeling a small box there. He had decided it was too risky to let the destiny lie around under chairs, so he crafted his own box so he could carry it around wherever he went. He wasn't paranoid, he would tell himself, it's just a safety precaution.
Ten minutes had passed by the time Dusk had stopped bathing in the ersatz glory the destiny gave him. He slowly removed his quivering hand, as a killer does from the neck of his victim after strangulation. The sound of hoof beats piqued his ears as he turned to face the large open window at his right. Belgar had ridden north a few hundred feet but stopped to look back south. His eyes burned with rage as a picture of Jack happily riding away formed in his head. The giant nearly turned his horse around to try and intercept the courier, but changed his mind as the whim left him. His head faced north quickly, as if an invisible string had pulled it, and he spurred his mount, riding away to quest for the mysterious weapon.
Many miles away, another one of Dusk's commanders was about to fulfill his mission. Crimson crouched on the roof of an armory, looking down at the Hall of Knowledge where his masters adopted brother sat, trailing his fingers in the dust that had settled on the floor. He recognized him immediately as the middle rider of the party of three that had escaped his bow in the battle at Orion's castle. The girl in the black robe lay asleep, as did the man in golden hair; which shone in unequaled fury against the heavy sunlight of Attica. There was a fourth whose natural enigmality seethed from his slumbering form. Crim had not seen this person before, but the aura he produced reminded him of someone he had seen in the Empire before. Sherta, Shrita, Sherpa...It was a woman, he knew that at least. But now was not the time to bask in memories.
The roof of the building he was on was about twenty feet higher than that of the Hall, and about seventy feet away; a smaller building between them. Crim had done quick calculations and figured the distance between himself and Qurez was approximately seventy-five feet, and with no sign of wind, that would prove little trouble for this weathered sniper. He could hit a rabbit in the eye from twice that distance easily, and yet something kept his right hand from reaching for an arrow.
Crim studied Qurez's face, assimilating every detail into his memory. The short dark-blue hair was candidly clumped together, hanging over his forehead in a curved notion. His thin eyebrows arched upwards sharply, then slowly descending into his temples. His pudgy cheeks hinted at the lingering boyhood that remained in his wiring, the adolescence that would fester in his veins upon becoming a man, and not come out again until old age set in. A petite nosed jutted from the center, smoothly cascading into his lips. The thin pink halves were pressed together above his sharp chin, which rested in the palm of his right hand. But perhaps the most fascinating features of all were his eyes. Filled with mystery and determination, not a trace of doubt.
But most of all, Crimson saw hope in the Qurez's eyes, and was frozen by admiration. He had been ordered to kill this boy, but he could not bring himself to do it. Why would Dusk want his brother, let alone someone of such great stature, be killed? Crim shook his head, trying to rid it of such thoughts. One of the four elite guards who had journeyed with him had escorted him to the top, and now looked at him suspiciously, moving a hand to the hilt of his sword. He relaxed however, when Crimson reached for an arrow from the quiver he kept at his side. He raised his bow with his left hand, bringing the arrow over and setting it on the bowstring. Three shaky fingers brought the arrow back, stretching the string until it could not be pulled back any more. The guard looked firmly at Crimson with a smile; the faster he finished, the sooner they could go home. The arbalester stole another look at Qurez's determination, and yielded for a moment, the bowstring receding slightly. The escort looked at Crim for a moment, slightly puzzled.
Crim took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, regaining his focus. The escort relaxed, looking at the bright noonday sky, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. Crim took this opportunity and spun around, his hair trailing behind him in a red wave. He held the bow horizontally and fired at the guard, striking him in the neck with an arrow. He fell to the ground as blood spewed from the wound, writhing his limbs in agony. With one last look at Qurez, who appeared to not notice anything, Crimson glided down the stairs from the rooftop, pulling another arrow from his quiver and setting it on the bow. The other three guards were completely unaware that anything could be wrong, until their superior burst into the room.
With a twang of the bowstring, one of the guards fell to the floor like a bag of cement. Crim had readied another arrow before he had hit the ground and fired again, this time at the guard farthest from himself. This arrow cut into his adversary's stomach, forcing him to keel over in pain and surprise. The third guard had gained his bearings by now, and charged Crim with his sword drawn. Knowing he had no time to fit his bow again, Crim drew a dagger from his belt and hurled it at the enraged guard. The blade sunk into the hand he was holding the sword with, embedding itself into the hilt of the weapon. He staggered only for a moment and continued his mad dash. Crim drew and arrow from it's quiver, and as soon as the man was close enough, leapt forward, narrowly missing the blade of the sword, and drove the bolt into his eye socket. He could feel the arrow sink into the brain and released it. He was now caught up in a blood rage and drew one more arrow, turning his bow to the man he had previously shot in the stomach. He released this arrow and drew two more in rapid succession, firing all three into the torso of the man, until his demise was assured.
Crim adjusted his quiver and started towards the door. The faster he got out of town the better. He was a traitor now, and he knew that Dusk would give him no quarter were he to be captured. He began to think of James but quickly dispelled this from his mind. Now was not the time to deal with fickle emotions.
He swung the door open, only to reveal a spearhead pointing towards his neck. A very sleepy-eyed warrior was on the other end, one dressed in blue and gold.
Belgar ranted and raved in his chamber, stomping on the ground and denting the wall with forceful fist blows. How dare Jack insult Orion, and Belgar himself as well? But that little squirt would get what was coming to him, as soon as he had his back turned. Belgar gave out one last stress-relieving blow on a table near his bed, which now lay crumbled in splinters. He sat down on the edge of his hard bunk and sighed, a motion that for him was not as quiet as most. His axe was smashed, and he was shamed. But worst of all, he could not regain his honor. All the ones who defeated him were now his allies. But before his honor could be regained, he would need a new weapon.
Belgar stood, his bed creaking, and he walked to the door of his room, pushing it open. Usually, knobs were small and he couldn't work them with his large fingers, but he found that breaking the latch was usually a good second for a man of his...stature. He found Dusk enjoying a late lunch, it had been four or five hours since their meeting with Jack; the sun was halfway between high noon and its setting. He walked into Dusks private commons, the lord glancing up to see him, his eye patch twitching slightly.
"What is it Belgar?" he asked in an annoyed tone. He was still slightly angry at Belgar's insubordination with Jack earlier, and unlike Orion, he disapproved of arguments between possible friends. "All it does is drive away any chance you have of using the person to your advantage," he recalled his reprimanding of Belgar. The giant slowly lurched towards Dusk.
"As you know, James shattered my axe to pieces when your army made a final assault on Orion's Castle. All that I could recover was the head of the weapon, but it has been worn out from years of cleaving. As much as I like ripping peoples throats out with my bare hands, a weapon is usually useful on the battlefield. But...I'm afraid a weapon suited for someone like me cannot be found in your armory. So I am at an impasse, I don't know where to find a tool I could use in melee." Belgar finished his statement with a bit of desperation, hoping it would help him win favor with Dusk. The one-eyed fighter pondered Belgar's quandary, rubbing his chin.
"There is one thing," Dusk replied after about a minute of thinking. "I heard in my many travels there is a weapon that may suit your strength. Legend says it's a giant scythe once wielded by Thanatos, the worldly embodiment of death. The might of this soul-harvesting weapon could indeed be described as death incarnate by itself. But, since it was originally constructed by Daedalus, a master craftsman of ancient times, as a gift to the Angel of Death for his life to be spared eternally, he made it with no defensive purposes in mind. After all, the Angel of Death has no fear of injury. But when Thanatos broke his promise and killed Daedalus regardless of their pact, the weapon would no longer allow itself to be wielded by its master. They say Thanatos was so enraged, he threw the scythe into Mount Myhria. And there it has rested for seven centuries, or so the legends say." Dusk had closed his eye, reminiscing of the man who had told him the tale. He was a very strange character, with purple hair and a monocle that reminded him of his own eye decor. But that was beside the point. Dusk lifted his chin from where he was resting it on his palms and opened his eye, keeping it focused on Belgar.
"I will give you one week to get to Myhria, three days to climb the mountain and obtain the weapon, and another seven to return here. Be warned, as you will face the extremes of temperatures. The Northern Wasteland is the most barren plain you will find, with winds that could freeze the air in your lungs. The innards of Mount Myhria however, are filled with a substance they call 'fire water', and the final part of the legend states that Thanatos also placed a guardian over the weapon, just in case one should quest for its power. But I trust that will give you no trouble, right Belgar?" Dusk smiled at his minion, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. "Make sure you stop at the scroll room and pick up a map. I'm sure you know where to find them."
Belgar was going to reply with a smart-a** comment, but decided to hold his tongue. His lord had given him a seventeen-day leave. Perhaps he should express gratitude, he thought. He bowed low to Dusk.
"Thank you my liege. When I receive this power, I shall use it in only your name." He turned around and left the room, turning right towards the library. Dusk smiled to himself cunningly.
"It's always good to let them dream, for a little while anyways..." He turned back to his food but discovered he was no longer hungry after telling such a long tale, so instead pushed his plate of food away. He slowly moved a hand to his chest, feeling a small box there. He had decided it was too risky to let the destiny lie around under chairs, so he crafted his own box so he could carry it around wherever he went. He wasn't paranoid, he would tell himself, it's just a safety precaution.
Ten minutes had passed by the time Dusk had stopped bathing in the ersatz glory the destiny gave him. He slowly removed his quivering hand, as a killer does from the neck of his victim after strangulation. The sound of hoof beats piqued his ears as he turned to face the large open window at his right. Belgar had ridden north a few hundred feet but stopped to look back south. His eyes burned with rage as a picture of Jack happily riding away formed in his head. The giant nearly turned his horse around to try and intercept the courier, but changed his mind as the whim left him. His head faced north quickly, as if an invisible string had pulled it, and he spurred his mount, riding away to quest for the mysterious weapon.
Many miles away, another one of Dusk's commanders was about to fulfill his mission. Crimson crouched on the roof of an armory, looking down at the Hall of Knowledge where his masters adopted brother sat, trailing his fingers in the dust that had settled on the floor. He recognized him immediately as the middle rider of the party of three that had escaped his bow in the battle at Orion's castle. The girl in the black robe lay asleep, as did the man in golden hair; which shone in unequaled fury against the heavy sunlight of Attica. There was a fourth whose natural enigmality seethed from his slumbering form. Crim had not seen this person before, but the aura he produced reminded him of someone he had seen in the Empire before. Sherta, Shrita, Sherpa...It was a woman, he knew that at least. But now was not the time to bask in memories.
The roof of the building he was on was about twenty feet higher than that of the Hall, and about seventy feet away; a smaller building between them. Crim had done quick calculations and figured the distance between himself and Qurez was approximately seventy-five feet, and with no sign of wind, that would prove little trouble for this weathered sniper. He could hit a rabbit in the eye from twice that distance easily, and yet something kept his right hand from reaching for an arrow.
Crim studied Qurez's face, assimilating every detail into his memory. The short dark-blue hair was candidly clumped together, hanging over his forehead in a curved notion. His thin eyebrows arched upwards sharply, then slowly descending into his temples. His pudgy cheeks hinted at the lingering boyhood that remained in his wiring, the adolescence that would fester in his veins upon becoming a man, and not come out again until old age set in. A petite nosed jutted from the center, smoothly cascading into his lips. The thin pink halves were pressed together above his sharp chin, which rested in the palm of his right hand. But perhaps the most fascinating features of all were his eyes. Filled with mystery and determination, not a trace of doubt.
But most of all, Crimson saw hope in the Qurez's eyes, and was frozen by admiration. He had been ordered to kill this boy, but he could not bring himself to do it. Why would Dusk want his brother, let alone someone of such great stature, be killed? Crim shook his head, trying to rid it of such thoughts. One of the four elite guards who had journeyed with him had escorted him to the top, and now looked at him suspiciously, moving a hand to the hilt of his sword. He relaxed however, when Crimson reached for an arrow from the quiver he kept at his side. He raised his bow with his left hand, bringing the arrow over and setting it on the bowstring. Three shaky fingers brought the arrow back, stretching the string until it could not be pulled back any more. The guard looked firmly at Crimson with a smile; the faster he finished, the sooner they could go home. The arbalester stole another look at Qurez's determination, and yielded for a moment, the bowstring receding slightly. The escort looked at Crim for a moment, slightly puzzled.
Crim took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, regaining his focus. The escort relaxed, looking at the bright noonday sky, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. Crim took this opportunity and spun around, his hair trailing behind him in a red wave. He held the bow horizontally and fired at the guard, striking him in the neck with an arrow. He fell to the ground as blood spewed from the wound, writhing his limbs in agony. With one last look at Qurez, who appeared to not notice anything, Crimson glided down the stairs from the rooftop, pulling another arrow from his quiver and setting it on the bow. The other three guards were completely unaware that anything could be wrong, until their superior burst into the room.
With a twang of the bowstring, one of the guards fell to the floor like a bag of cement. Crim had readied another arrow before he had hit the ground and fired again, this time at the guard farthest from himself. This arrow cut into his adversary's stomach, forcing him to keel over in pain and surprise. The third guard had gained his bearings by now, and charged Crim with his sword drawn. Knowing he had no time to fit his bow again, Crim drew a dagger from his belt and hurled it at the enraged guard. The blade sunk into the hand he was holding the sword with, embedding itself into the hilt of the weapon. He staggered only for a moment and continued his mad dash. Crim drew and arrow from it's quiver, and as soon as the man was close enough, leapt forward, narrowly missing the blade of the sword, and drove the bolt into his eye socket. He could feel the arrow sink into the brain and released it. He was now caught up in a blood rage and drew one more arrow, turning his bow to the man he had previously shot in the stomach. He released this arrow and drew two more in rapid succession, firing all three into the torso of the man, until his demise was assured.
Crim adjusted his quiver and started towards the door. The faster he got out of town the better. He was a traitor now, and he knew that Dusk would give him no quarter were he to be captured. He began to think of James but quickly dispelled this from his mind. Now was not the time to deal with fickle emotions.
He swung the door open, only to reveal a spearhead pointing towards his neck. A very sleepy-eyed warrior was on the other end, one dressed in blue and gold.
Pheidippides
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- Posted: Sat, 19 Feb 2005 23:13:45 +0000
Well, that's all I have written for now. Chapter 10 is half done; I promise to post it as soon as it's finished. Read this and bump me please!