Richta Ohvlan closed the door on the man he presumed to be William; a man with eyes that screamed instead of his thin, quivering lips. The mayor—whom Richta had sworn to protect—had been killed, and worse, he’d been killed at the hands of the one man they hated the most. It was as if fate mocked them. Richta considered using this fleeting opportunity to return to his wife and daughter so they could escape Yonledo undiscovered, however, something came over him when he witnessed William’s palpable fear. He felt a sudden instinctual need to tip the scales of justice back into place, to demonstrate that evil men couldn’t go through life tearing down others for their own gain; something he’d seen run rampant for far too long.
Richta stepped through the hall and stood at the entryway to the main room, backlit by the dimmed lamps. Tamerond was crouched on one knee, pouring a dark liquid over the melted hole in his shoulder plate, sucking in a harsh breath as it splashed down. He cursed and shattered the empty bottle against the wall before noticing the silhouette watching him once more.
“What are you doing? I told you to go find William,” Tamerond snapped.
“I know you think you’re going to get away with what you’ve done,” Richta said, stepping forward. “You can only get away with so much before it comes back to bite you.”
“What are you talking about? Wait a second, you’re not one of mine. Who are you?”
Richta pulled the longsword out of its sheath. It was heavy, much heavier than any weapon he’d trained with before, but the countless hours of military training re-engaged his muscle memory. Tamerond pulled his own gold-studded sword free as he got to his feet. They were in ankle deep water, the mansion slowly sinking due to the crack that had emerged in the center of the room.
Richta wasted no time and said nothing more. He lunged, bringing his weapon up and down in a fierce arc that would have cleaved any other man in two, but Tamerond was ready and blocked the blow with a high, horizontal parry. Metal rang out in the dark chamber, a flash of sparks illuminating the mayor sitting only a few feet away, an absent spectator to the brutal affair. The longsword stuttered along the smaller blade before slipping off its pointed end. Tamerond—despite his shoulder injury—danced with grace and speed, maneuvering his blade around to slam into Richta’s side. The silver armor—to Richta’s own surprise—did very little to stop the strike. Dragonsteel. As Tamerond pulled the blade free from the carved out section of Richta’s armor plating, cool air swooped in to fill the burning void left behind.
Tamerond Blake didn’t let up. He stepped back and lifted his sword up to eye level, elbow back with the point ready to jab straight through the eye slit of Richta’s helmet. Richta ducked. The sword rammed the top of his helmet instead, sending it tumbling across the room to lie at the mayor’s feet. Richta stumbled back, lifting the heavy longsword once more, this time in a defensive posture. His face was exposed and he awaited the realization to dawn on his former commanding officer, yet it never came.
“Who are you? Why are you trying to kill me?” Tamerond asked, his voice dispassionate and metallic behind the faceplate.
Richta was shocked. He expected Tamerond would have remembered his face forever. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He couldn’t be angry at a man that didn’t remember him, and so the hate in his heart fell away.
“The mangrove spirit…” Richta whispered.
“Spirit?”
Richta shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re still the same person as before. I won’t let this stop me from doing what needs to be done.”
Tamerond Blake squared himself into a swordsman stance. “Something about you seems familiar, but soon enough it won’t matter. You’ll be dead like all the rest.”
~~~
Ian Merstellar woke up in a cage, the thick bars jagged and haphazardly crisscrossing his vision. Thunder rumbled overhead and wind whistled through the uneven slants of his prison. He tried to move but couldn’t budge more than an inch in any direction. The cage squeezed tighter with his every move. He felt like he couldn’t breathe despite the air flowing over exposed skin.
After blinking himself fully awake, Ian realized that he wasn’t in a cage, but within the heart of the swamp. He pressed his forehead against the constricting roots to see out. Someone was standing outside of his wooden prison, their green eyes staring in at him, unblinking.
“Hey, get me out of here,” Ian yelled.
A voice flooded his mind as if speaking all around him at once, “I cannot do that, child. The Dark has you now. I’ve been corrupted by its evil for as long as I can remember. I am no longer in control, Elek is. That is why I’ve called you here, so that you will release me from my prison.”
Ian had no idea who was talking, or what they were even talking about, so he tried to remain in the tangible world when he asked, “How can I release you when I’m the one trapped?”
“Your spirit is no more trapped than a gull on an island. You must awaken your inner power. The Light can’t help but dispel the darkness.”
“Am I supposed to know what that means? I can’t move!”
“Your friends will soon die if you don’t save them. The one taken by the darkness will not quit until everyone is dead. He is compelled by the urge to protect me, the parts of me that keeps you contained this very moment. For Elek knows that if you are to escape, then its ability to manipulate this world will be threatened. And yet, even I know that Elek cannot withhold you from your destiny, for it has been within you all along. You only need to stop running from it, Ian.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Ian swallowed what little moisture formed in his dry mouth. He wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it but the voice had sounded like his mother’s there at the end. A tear found its way out of his right eye. He’d forgotten the sound of her voice until that moment. Then his father’s voice was there, speaking to him as if it were only yesterday.
“Here, son, I want you to have this. I know it’s not much, but I figure it’d give you something to remember me by while I’m away.” Ian took the hat from his father and read the inscription on the inside and smiled up at him. “I love it”, Ian replied. “Good. Good,” his father said, patting him on the head before turning out the light and leaving the bedroom.
That’d been the last time he saw his parents; the night of the fire, the night he’d gained his teleportation. Ian Merstellar then understood what the voice referred to by his inner power. He shut his eyes and searched deep within himself for the Light, or what he referred to as his cup of Energy. He was surprised to find that it was there within reach, and not only was it full, it was filled to the brim—no, it overflowed with Energy, more than he’d ever imagined possible. When he tapped into it, his world burned like never before, like he’d never made it out of the fire that fateful night.
~~~
“My word, are you okay?” William asked as he rushed to unplug the bound soldier’s gagged mouth.
He wasn’t sure where Amal had gone but the house was completely empty, except for the muffled cries of someone in distress coming from the back room; the same room Ian Merstellar had supposedly been recovering in before. The soldier was in his underclothes lying face first on the small children’s bed next to the open window. The wind howled and the curtain whipped about the room chaotically.
“Ah, thank you, William,” the soldier said, trying to figure out how to work his tongue again. “Listen, I fear for Commander Blake’s well-being. Someone has taken my armor, likely to get close to him. Please, you have to warn him before it is too late.”
William Yitlin hesitated to untie the soldier. He stood next to the bed with one hand frozen mid-reach as he considered the soldier’s loyalties. The man craned his neck and furrowed his brow as soon as he noticed.
“What are you doing? Untie me.”
“Did you know about the mayor?” William asked, his voice quivering.
“Mayor Undrey? What about him? Why does that matter right now, sir? Please, just untie me. The commander might be—”
“The deputy commander,” William said, more harshly than he’d intended.
The soldier was sweating profusely now. “I don’t know what it is you think I’m involved in, William, but you have to get these constraints off of me. My friends and colleagues need my help. That lunatic attacked me and took my armor, he’s going to kill Tamerond. Please!”
William thought about that, about the man with the eye patch that hadn’t seized him at Tamerond’s behest. He recalled Tamerond placing a soldier in front of Amal’s house for her protection. Then that same soldier end’s up in one of Amal’s bedrooms, tied up by a mysterious man that hadn’t shown himself upon their arrival. Tamerond had mentioned another man right before he’d killed the mayor… Richta something or other. Amal’s husband must’ve served with Tamerond in Blokravn.
“Hey, are you going to release me or not?” the soldier asked.
“I’m sorry,” William said, shaking his head.
The soldier screamed in a fit and flopped about on the bed.
“Burg take you, I demand that you free me, old man!”
Something sloshed outside the window, louder than the normal ongoing torrent. William backed up. The soldier was erratic, but William’s eyes were glued to the window. Something was coming. He could hear it scraping the wood along the outer wall of the cabin.
“Be quiet,” William said in a whisper, but the man continued to holler and scream. William took a step forward to hush him but a wave a water struck him hard. His glasses were knocked free and the salty water burned his eyes. The man’s yells escalated ten fold, clearly fearful of something knocking about in the window.
When William rubbed the liquid from his eyes, he could see a blurry mass that hadn’t been there before. The blur hissed and snapped. William lost control of his legs and fell against the far wall. He slid down to the floor, mouth hanging open in terror. The crocodile thrashed about as half of its body protruded from the window. Two of its feet raked the walls to pull itself inside, but its immense size prevented it from moving in further. The soldier fell from the bed and rolled, trying to get clear of the monstrous carnivore. It snapped at his feet as he rolled, its long snout narrowly missing with each bite.
As if in a waking nightmare, William watched the side paneling underneath the croc buckle from its weight and the monster broke its way inside. Although his vision was poor, William looked away as this time the snapping jaws did not narrowly miss the soldier’s feet.
“William! Help me!”
“I’m sorry,” William mumbled to himself, over and over until the thrashing stopped and he was alone in the bedroom.
~~~
As he made his ascent, Tyvno could feel his mouth salivate at the thought of biting down on his prey. He scaled the back wall of the mansion using his sharp claws and pulled himself into the second story, falling into a crouch. His tail made a soft thud as it hit the floorboards, but there was nothing he could do about that, plus there was only so much stealth he cared to tolerate.
A soft green glow was cast down from the rafters, oddly complimenting his night vision. He scanned the large foyer but it was clear of occupants. Odd. He could have sworn he’d seen a short man run up here earlier. There was a hole at the center of the floor and distinct sounds of battle emanated from it. He crawled on all fours as he made his way over to peer down into the hole.
Two men in Empyrean armor struck at each other with blades, wading in knee deep water. Fighting amongst themselves, he thought, now that’s interesting. The one in golden armor seemed to have a clear advantage over the other man who slouched and had trouble lifting the longsword. Something else caught Tyvno’s curious eyes, and he looked at it for a long time before truly understanding what he was seeing. It was a dead man sitting in a chair. Not just any dead man though, it was the one man who’d wished him dead more times than he could count.
“No,” he roared.
The two men below stopped fighting and looked up. Tyvno leapt down with a splash, his back facing them both. Standing at his full height, he was still shorter than the man in golden armor, yet he may as well have towered over them by how quickly they cowered back. He wasn’t concerned with them at the moment. He could sense their movements through every pore along his body and knew they were too afraid to attack him. And even if they tried, he’d react before they could close the distance.
Tyvno studied the unmoving body before him; the body that had been the source of all his hate since coming to Yonledo. He felt empty inside, unsure of where to place all of his pent up anger. He searched for an explanation, any answer to why the humans would be fighting one another in this doomed mansion. The lightbow laid within reach, the bolt having been discharged. A wound in Mayor Penh’s stomach was clearly caused by that of a sharp blade.
“Almighty above, so it’s true,” Tamerond said. “The crocodile beast is real.”
Tyvno turned and snarled. His pointed nose picked up various coppery smells, but the golden one’s damaged shoulder plate told him everything he needed to know. The mayor had fired a shot at that one, whoever he was. Tyvno wanted closure, and what better way to get closure than to kill the man that had killed the man you wanted to kill.