|
RIO RANDOM CHAPTER UPDATE! |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Chapter X: Memento Infinitum.
Drei paced back and forth over the thick carpet in front of Triss, letting only the sounds of his footfalls and the quiet swish of his cloak break the tired silence. Drei had spent the greater part of the eve answering Triss' questions over his past. Now, the question she had wanted answered since the day in the forest had finally came up.
"And the scar on your neck...?" Her voice trailed as it was choked by tears.
Drei's pace faltered. His hand reached under his long black mane and let his fingers graze the twisted and mangled flesh. His eyes shifted under his bangs, before finally closing. He paused in front of a large winged chair and slumped back into it.
"It's a reminder of what true justice, or lack of it, feels like." His eyes had lost their steel-grey tint and only reflected the orange glow of the fire that smoldered in the hearth.
Triss fought inside of herself. Should she get up and hold him? But how could she? For years, this dashing, debonair male before her had been a twisted assassin bent on his missions with not thought of life. Hadn't he killed in her presence? In Calimar? She knew he had to, but with all the things he had said... was he safe?
In the end, she just watched him from across the room, her knees brought to her chest as they sat in silence. Though the fire had faded, there was an air of frigid electricity between them.
Then finally, he spoke. It was not the calm and collected recolletion of a memory Triss saw in Drei that night. She watched as he closed his eyes and wept, tears falling as if shards of ice chipped from the depths of unknown caverns. When his eyes opened, they were a dark turquoise. " I was eleven," he began.
Chapter X: Sparks.
There was another bolt of lightning that passed over head as the boy lurked in a deep trench. Moans of terror could be heard around him as he focused on the map before him. He could sense the tension in the air as the elderly men observed the same map, and the plans that accompanied that circle, embossed with triangles representing bazaars, rectangles for domiciles, and stars for key points. Drei looked up at the cloaked man who spoke with authority bleeding from his very presence.
"There will be seven locks. Diarus, Benstoch, Murist, Ackovard, Lochisht, Meriegam, and Shalust." Each of the robed mages nodded. Through the cloaks and full faced masks, Drei knew instantly who was whom. There were four elves, two faye, and a human. Drei could feel that the fayes' presence represented that this was no drill.
The two male elves, Diarus and Ackovard, represented the moonlight elves and would provide cover from the moonlit grove above the town, locking down the northern front through the trees, keeping any stray spells well under check.
The two female elves, Murist and Meriegam would play off of the sunlight front, standing in the east to block off escape from their sectors. They would be the last posts to activate, driving the targets towards them to make the mission a success. The elves stood on opposite sides of the room, their animosity as thinly masked as the explosions rocketing outside. That aside, no one could stand the thought of the orcs, goblins, and trolls creating an alliance in Travistrade, the city at the center of the table, a mass of rectangles, stars, and triangles.
So, that's what a thriving civilization truly is. Just meaningless, cold shapes on a scrap of parchment. Drei was silent as he watched the other three.
The faye, Lochisht and Shalust, would cover the south. Drei knew instantly the reasoning. Faye were at home in the hills and mountains, so destroying the only two passes out of the town through the south would be key to saving their energy for the locks. The two faye had kept their powers suppressed during the battle, but Drei saw the power that emanated from them. Their gait was never impeded by stones. Their gaze was fixed. They exuded destruction. Of course, everyone around the table was strong. But why?
Drei then focused on the human mage. He was wizened, and was the only one who neglected to hide his wrinkled face and sightless eyes. He sipped his tea quietly as everyone else twitched at every crackle of fire or lightening bolt thrown. They all looked alike, even Drei. All in matching black cloaks, non-descript masks of white, with only slits carved out for eyesight. Even their voices were filtered by simple interference magic for safety's sake. But this man, well aged and completely noticeable in his sky blue robes and white bone walking staff, sat quietly sipping his tea. Drei knew this man only from reputation as Benstoch the Mage of Isles. As such, this blind, feeble man was qualified to demolish half of the continent with only the snap of his fingers and a flash of his toothless smile. Drei watched as the man turned to him, standing in the back of the tent. Did he turn to me, or at some sound that I didn't notice? The man stuck his tongue out at Drei, smiled, and turned to the map again, running his fingers over the raised edges. Benstoch would create the west locks single-handedly. All present knew he was the only one who could possible handle the wide open plains and the caverns hidden below.
The man, after running his fingers over the map, cleared his throat. "And as for the youngling? Does he have a purpose Trestibar? Or is he an urchin your ... kindness ... has been extended to?" The man standing at the head of the table turned the eye slits to Benstoch.
"You know who and what he is. You also know his purpose. It was you that suggested him, wasn't it?" Drei had been with Trestibar Illochner for only three months since the inauguration of Rio's own chapter of Ah Desther Vetual, the guild of The Assassins of Dementia. though the guild began over a year ago. But the time for reminiscing had passed. None of the elders Drei had trusted were here, and only Trestibar, know to Drei before this mission as a messenger, reminded him vaguely of home. He was leagues from home, and deep in enemy territory.
The elderly man nodded. "So, he will be with Murist and Meriegam, activating the last lock?" The mage finished his tea and placed it directly on the edge of the table, the cup drained.
Trestibar shook his head. "His mission will be revealed at the appropriate time." He looked towards the figure in the shadows, the green slits staring deeply into his steely eyes. There was something almost comforting in those old green eyes. But the smooth face of Trestibar was nothing like the battle ravaged assassin Drei knew and cared for. Drei shuddered and kept quiet.
The human mage spoke up, disbelief in his voice. He spoke softly. "So, he's to be the spark." Instantly the man stood and a cane materialized in his hand as the tipped jabbed into the dirt of the tent. "Trestibar. I refuse. He is a boy. I never asked for him to be the spark. And to go into battle in blissful ignorance?" The man clicked his tongue. Instantly he turned to Drei. "Boy, come with me." He flared his free hand, expecting Drei to obey.
Drei didn't move.
"Benstoch. This is his first. He must learn like we all did. We all were the sparks." Trestibar spoke softly and there was a dejected nodding of confirmation from all those in the tent. Drei watched in bewilderment.
Benstoch left the tent without another word, weaving though the blasts of magic, firing off several towards the oncoming barrage of arrows and missiles. Soon, the other six followed, leaving Drei and Trestibar alone.
"Sir ...," Drei moved silently to the elder's side. "What is my mission?"
Trestibar looked down to the map. "Drei, do you know what we're doing here?"
Drei closed his eyes and recited his mission briefing. "To eliminate a threat to our nation." Drei paused a moment out of reluctance, but continued. "Failure is not an option," he said.
Trestibar nodded and took off his mask, letting his light green hair flutter round the top of his ears. Trestibar had singed the base of his skull, having only the hair on the crown of his head grow, giving him the appearance of a monk of some monastic order of death. Trestibar rubbed his temples with his gloved hands. For a twenty year old human, even then he seemed aged.
"Sir, what are we really doing here?" Drei asked.
Trestibar paused. "We're here to cleanse this town of its crimes. We are judge, jury, and executioners of the law," Trestibar too seemed to recite from rote those words.
After waiting for several moments, he continued, sensing Drei's next question. "We are creating a dome of containment magic round this town." He pointed to the seven stars surrounding the town on the map. "This is a rare case, but with such a large population, and such important political figures, we need to be sure that we have enough power." Drei caught the reference to Benstoch, but remained silent. "Once the barriers are raised, be it through spells or terraforming, there must be a complete lock for containment. Then, the air is infused and a spark is sent in."
Drei caught the reference to the spark, himself. Without thinking, Drei burst out, "How many?"
Trestibar looked up with a glare that would raise death from its ethereal grave. Finally, remembering Drei was just a child, he gave an honest answer.
"Too many." With that, Trestibar left and Drei looked over the map. A small silver star was placed in the east between two black stars. Drei was going to the last lock. He was going to where the herd would be concentrated.
As Drei left the tent, he paused. "So, that's all they are. A herd."
Chapter X: Purified By Fire.
The explosions rained through the night. Through the darkness and the pale smoke came the scent of rotting, burning corpses. The stench invaded the camp's every fiber, leaving many bleary eyed from lack of genuine rest. Drei didn't sleep. He had simply ventured to the outer ring of the camp after leaving the tent the night before, found a quiet grove of trees, and watched the failing projectiles. Streaks of aqua, crimson, and silver flew from both camps, lighting the night in an explosion of color. Drei watched for an hour till a large orange flare was sent across the night sky.
"Time to go," he whispered.
In an instant, Drei was sprinting back to camp, his cloak flared wide as his pace lengthened down the hill. The same seven mages, sans Trestibar, stood waiting at the entrance to the tent. Drei slowed and walked the rest of the way to the group, all huddled around the elderly Benstoch.
As Drei approached, the group fell silent. Benstoch faced him, leaning forward on his large oak walking stick. All were dressed in tight spider weave shirts and pants, each shimmering slightly, denoting their high enchantments. Even Benstoch wore a dark aqua colored suit that betrayed the muscle still lying, flexing under his skin. Finally, he sighed. "Morning, youngling," Benstoch commented lightly.
Drei bowed. "Masters...."
There was a slight chuckle around the group. Then Benstoch addressed Drei directly. "Son, do you know what your mission is once we raise the locks?" Benstoch cocked his head to the side, letting his hair, normally wild and free, fall into a bunch as he wrapped a chord of crimson ribbon round his mane of hair, turning it into a tail that fell down his back.
Drei shook his head. "I only know that I need to cause a spark."
Benstoch paused. Before he could speak, Shalust spoke wearily. At first his voice was labored in speaking common, but soon Drei could understand him with his thick fayen accent, thick with rolling "r's" and lengthened "s's". "Taissss, Drrrrei," he began respectfully, "you will need to go in and sssstay inside the city, mopping up any ..." the fay paused, "disssstrrrractionssss...." Benstoch nodded grimly.
Drei appreciated their correctness in addressing him, but immediately deflected their attempts at pampering him. "Masters, I understand I've been brought here for one purpose, and that is to spill blood, regardless of race, creed, gender, or status." Drei paused, then continued, noting no surprise in their faces. "When you create those locks, most of the group will be centered in the east, where I will be with two of the elves. Simply put, I must destroy any so-called distractions without mercy." Drei stood respectfully, his hands behind his back, clasped together to withhold the shakes that accompanied his fear of elders. "Then, i simply finish what remains after your spell casting."
There were several long moments of silence. Then Benstoch spoke. "No."
Drei was bewildered. "With all due respect...." Drei didn't finish as Benstoch stood, towering over him and waved his hand, silencing Drei.
Benstoch spoke firmly. "You are to light a flame inside the locks, lighting the air ablaze, burning everything in that city." He paused. "You are the spark that sends every man, woman, and child into a fiery oblivion."
Chapter X: Preparations
Drei stood at the center of the group. His hands stopped shaking. His jaw line slacked, then clenched. Benstoch turned to him. "We have all stood in this exact same position, son. We were all asked this same question." He paused, mustering his strength. "Do you...."
"Yes," Drei answered in a heartbeat, "I take their lives and their blood on my soul."
Each of the mages turned to him, placing a palm on his shoulder. "Avaicium" they whispered.
Forgiveness.
Drei turned to Benstoch. "Is there any specific way in which to activate the cleansing?" Drei asked out of respect for tradition, and his new role as the spark, the life of the mission, as well as the harbinger of death.
"No, simply start a spark once the command is given. Then, retreat back to the locks." Trestibar appeared from around the corner. He seemed fatigued, bordering on exhaustion.
Drei turned to him. "Yes, Tias." With that, Drei turned to his tent, took his only possession, and left with the group of Mages and Trestibar to the field.
Chapter X: Blade and Blaze
The smell of magic hung in the air. The day had worn on as Drei kept with the pair of elves he had been assigned to, Murist and Meriegam, two silent Sunlight elves, aligning into position. When they had found the planes, Murist crossed the road and leaned against a large rock, jutting from the earth.
She climbed swiftly and silently, her hands and arms extending over the rock face in a smooth trend, leaving the earth far below in seconds. Soon, she stood on top of the large stone and gazed round. Meriegam closed her eyes, narrating softly to Drei in common, explaining the view.
"Murist sees the land to the south. It's only a half the distance she expected to the faye. To us, there is half that distance. We have the distance from the accursed Moonlight equal to her distance from the Faye. This is the spot." Meriegam opened her eyes, letting the soft green orbs rest on Drei. Her voice reminded Drei of the soft waves of the Great Sea lapping against the shore on a cloudless day. They had found low lying brush that served well for even a full upright elf to walk through unnoticed.
Drei then sat down and pulled out a long, thin, rectangular case. Meriegam looked over and sat next to him. She watched as he drew out a long black bundle, almost as long as Drei's wingspan. She watched him pull out a faded hilt of a blade and draw it from the cloth that surrounded it. It was a thin silver blade, slightly curved with no hilt, simply a wrapped bundle of lacquered wood and black spider weave. At it's tip, she could see a deep black core running down the spine of the katana. There was no nick or scratch on the blade, and it shone with such glittering perfection, she doubted its authenticity.
"Relics won't help," she muttered doubtingly to the air.
Drei didn't even wince. He simply laid it on his lap and began to polish it with a soft spider weave cloth. Finally, he looked up.
"Do you doubt my choice?" Drei asked sternly.
"Yes, I do," Meriegam remarked. "Why not a simple flame spell and be done with it?"
Drei looked deeply into her sage colored eyes and said nothing. He then began to buff the spine of the blade, the dark black of its core becoming darker still. Only when his work was done did he look to find her eyes with a faint glitter.
"I'm sorry, Tias Harte. I'm simply nervous." She smiled behind the mask. "You never get used to these cleansing. These are the worst duties we are called to perform." He smile faded into one of pity. Then her focus changed. "What kind of core did the maker use for the katana?"
Drei replied simply, "Quieastrum ore, twice refined."
Meriegam's jaw dropped. "You stole that blade then? From some old man?" She couldn't believe a young boy would have a blade cored by the most durable and destructive of elements.
Drei shook his head. "It was the last relic I had of the man who sired me. He ran from my mother during the night, when his status was returned to him. She had hid this under the bed, and swore that this blade would serve as the reminder for me to never become him."
Meriegam shuddered. "And what was his status? King or Lord of the Badlands?" She meant it lightheartedly, but Drei failed to respond.
The rest of the night passed in silence.
Chapter X: Lighted Fields
Darkness crept over the land, the magic and artillery dieing down in the wee hours of the morning. Drei didn't sleep. Then, an two hours before dawn, three flares rose to the sky. To the north, there came a green flare that arched over the town, deep into the smoke above the town. An explosion rocketed over the clouds, sending them scattering and leaving only the light of the stars shining down on the unsuspecting town. There is one.... Then, in quick succession, chaos began to reign.
In the north, the moonlit grove swayed and arched until it seemed to rise and lay down as a huge wall. Nay, it did lay down and begin taking root, five trees deep and hundreds wide until one placed itself only feet from Drei. Drei took this as his cue to move and soon found himself perched on a rooftop, overlooking the carnage.
From the east, the plains opened into a roaring chasm, the ground rent in two as Murist and Meriegam stood on opposing sides, making the chasm stretch over forty feet from the line of trees down to the southern pass. They then began to throw glittering orbs into the air that exploded into green flares.There is two.
In the south, the earth shuddered as the peaks of the mountains crumbled and rolled downward towards the town, tearing through the buildings and shattering the bridges over a river, leaving a vertical scale over six hundred feet through a stream that the faye had coaxed into a rampaging flood. Soon, those shattered mountain peaks where the only gate against the water level that rose above the town. Soon, a whirlpool was developing, a monstrous suckling sound filling the night.
Then, two more green flares shot into the sky, from the south as well as the west. As in the east, Benshtoch had created a gaping chasm that spewed huge boulders of flame into the sky over the town, raining down randomly for an a minute. Through the carnage, Drei could smell the putrid smell of burnt flesh waft over his nose. This simple seven person team had, in minutes, decimated all but the center of the town, taking it's defenses and shattering them as if glass to a hammer.
White flags flew into the sky, signaling surrender. Good, we have won! he thought. Then, he remembered.
Surrender is admitting failure. Trestibar had said. Cleansing is punishing failure and making an example. It is proof that the course of action taken was morally wrong.
Soon, the smell of burnt flesh became more pungent as Drei turned, faced with half of an orc, swaggering towards him. The orc had managed to use the sound and awe inspiring sights of the carnage to surprise Drei.
The orc's body was missing his left arm, and blood spewed from the open wound. The orc's eyes glittered with blood lust, his right arm dragging a huge metal mace. In an instant, it raised its mace and brought it down towards Drei.
Drei rolled to the side, drawing his katana. With one lunge towards the orc and a single jab to its jugular, the beast's head was severed. Drei wiped the blood off on the skirts of the mangled body and looked skyward. There, a silver flare hung in the night sky. With one whiff, Drei smelt the magic.
Drei looked around the city. He saw it now, not as a mass of rectangles and stars, but for a moment, in the eyes of the dead and dying, that spark of life being robbed by his hands.
Drei blinked. Then next instant, all he saw were stars and rectangles. He clasped his hands together and held his blade parallel to the ground. He ran towards the ledge of the building and jumped, bringing his blade downwards, impaling it into the ground.
As he hit, sparks flew.
The sparks soared into the night. Then, night turned to day as the silver flare disappeared into the horizon of orange and red.
Travistrade instantly began to burn. All around Drei, fires sprang from that single spark. The fires grew and grew, lapping up at the scaly skin of orcs, eating through the fleshy parts of goblins and trolls. Soon, shrieks of pain became the echo of the earth opening around this doomed town. Drei turned north and sprinted for the grotto of trees.
All around him, he saw the pleas for help, bodies burning. Ahead, the trees loomed, swaying, changing. Through the boughs came a long silver beam of light that enveloped Drei. In its bright light, he lost himself.
Chapter X: Justice.
Drei sat in his chair, slumped forward. Triss cringed in hers, tears pouring down her face. Both shuddered and wept in their own way.
"Trestibar told me..." Drei paused, letting the tears die once more, "Trestibar told me that the cleansing is proof that a course of action is morally wrong." Drei looked up. "He was right." Drei stood and faced the fire. He waved his hand over it and the blaze flared again.
"Cleansing is wrong. But we do it anyways, regardless of the reminders." Drei spoke to the flames, letting them writhe at his words.
"But why continue? If you know it is wrong, why kill so many?" Drei cried, standing up behind Drei and throwing down her blanket.
Drei turned to her as he moved to the staircase to his room. "The alternative is always worse." And with that, he walked quietly to his room.
A minute later, and he face the door to his room. He placed his forehead on the wood and thought back to that night. As he opened the door and trudged to the bed, walking round the familiar shapes of his room in the nighttime darkness, he couldn't help but look to the mantle. There, regardless of light or darkness, day or night, there lay that same blade. There lay the implement of destruction. Drei looked down to his hands in the darkness.
And on my hands, there is the blood of innocents.
 Drei Harte · Mon Jan 05, 2009 @ 01:39am · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
