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New Quest Objective
- Plan
You’ll be playing Amaryllis a former novice of the temple. Born in a small village, she has spent most of her life training to take over from her mother and father as a priestess while always inwardly desiring to see more of the world.
***
Beneath the stars that filled the night sky, columns of warriors dispersed in files to pitch up their tents for the day, gather wood for their campfires, and hang up meat on spits to roast beneath the flames. The closeness of the Ash Lands, causing the nearby horselines to whinny, while patrols of armed guards moved about the perimeter to begin setting up watch. The cool whisper of the breeze and the call of the night stalkers sending a chill through her.
But none of that was as important as the news Halmark had brought her. The men and women that drifted out of her peripheral vision in chains, all but ignored as she stared up at him in shock. And realised, that not only had he lied to her, something she did not think was possible for an Honor Blade, but he also knew Colmar, a thought that boggled the mind.
Much calmer than she felt inwardly, she asked, “So you’re the Honor Blade, Grey, told us about? The one who saved us from the bandits?”
Halmark smiled grimly and nodded his head, his silver eyes glimmering in the starlight. The long march northward halted a scant few miles short of an ancient derelict castle that stoodup atop of a high bluff that lay to the west of camp, it’s crumbling walls and towers a distant reminder of long forgotten war, fought between the lords and ladies of the land.
“I was sent by the First Blade of Light to convince the Lord of Summer to turn aside from his path of darkness, but it seems that I have failed in that endeavor. Not that the council ever believed I would succeed.”
“So why did they send you?” She enquired.
The Honor Blade chuckled dryly, before all mirth left his eyes, his skin becoming taut with tension. “The care of Lord Colmar’s family and soul was my duty, and I failed them. The council blames me for the disaster that befell them, and in turn us, and perhaps they are right to do so. I was never really certain what happened back there, but I should have died the moment I failed in my duty, and yet I still live. In any case, I was too be exiled as my punishment, but then they decided my death at the hands of my former brother would be a far more fitting.
"The Blades can be cruel when they wish to be,” he said, his horns dropped low as he continued softly, “but I do not blame them for it. The constant battle against the darkness tends to change us after a time.” That last part however seemed more directed towards himself then to her.
He gazed up into the night sky with a sad smile upon his lips. The stars that burned brightly above glowed with such pureness it was hard to believe it was nightfall, its light falling upon the valley and castle. “It seems that for as long as we have tried to follow the code set down by Lord Ice Eyes we always seem to fall just short of it. Say what you will of Colmar, but he is as much a result of our own failings as much by his own actions. We should never have sided with Salwin.”
Salwin? The name sounded vaguely familiar, but it was difficult to recall what it was she had heard about him. But before she could even think to ask Halmark more about him, Palvane materialized out from the darkness, followed by half a dozen of those same god awful monstrosities she’d seen earlier wandering ahead of the army, their deathly pale visages illuminated by the torchlights they carried with them. The beasts themselves, tall, well built warrior class minotaurs, armoured in the same black leathers as the rest with face coverings around their mouths with not a single hint of life flickering behind those cold dead eyes.
Palvane his sallow face all but alight with some untold joy, was all but ready to dance with glee. The wiry minotaur, stopping just short of the wagon, where he waited for them to wakeup before sharing with them the good news. His sneer turning into a leer as stared up at them with a smile that did not quite reach his empty lavender eyes. “It seems that you're finally being put to use after all. The mistress requires a few of you to nourish the poor souls of our beloved warriors. And they desire their blood fresh, you see.”
Clothes removed from their mouths, the creature’s to either side of the minotaur chose that moment to reveal their true nature, their blackened razor sharp teeth curved into deadly smiles as they removed the cloth wrappings from around their mouths. Palvane who’d orchestrated it all, grinning from ear to ear in delight at their terrified screams.
Blinded by a wave of a nausea, she turned to look up at Halmark, hoping he would say or do something. But he simply stood there with his fists clenched around the metal bars. While everyone else backed away from the light. Dayala, that selfish, misbegotten elf thrusting Gromel out in front of her.
Stung by Palvane’s nasally laugh, she quelled her rising panic and forced herself to remain where she was, despite every part of telling to get away from the light. But another stronger part of her refused to give the slimy pukeling the satisfaction he craved.
Grinning from ear to ear, Palvane, held up a clear glass vial in his hands, gleaming with a bright blue liquid that swished back and forth, and tossed it into the cage with them. The bottle shattering apart and filling the cage with a powerful aroma she had never smelt before, then found herself falling, falling, falling into the darkness...
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
***
When next she awoke, morning had finally come and the wagonbed that had been once full of prisoners was half empty.
Mind numb with shock, she stared out towards the warriors who went about camp as though nothing had happened. The cries of anguish and despair she heard from the wagons around her, mimicked by those with her as a woman wailed, “Wentel! Wentel! Wentel!”
The pain she heard in her voice, sending a stab of heartache through Amaryllis, chest as she sat up to press her back to the cold bars. Her mind still reeling from what had just happened. The suddenness of it all and tremors of fear she had felt still shaking her hands.
Gromel the first to act, tried his best to comfort the distraught mother, while Halmark sat back with a heavy sigh as though he had expected this to happen all along.
Angered by his reaction and filled with a vengeful rage, she hissed, “Grey said you could use magic. You must help us escape! We can’t stay here for another night!”
But instead of agreement as she had hoped for, Halmark’s face stiffened at the suggestion. “And what makes you think I wish to escape? What makes you think that I want to help any of you?”
Cheeks grown hot, Myrllis instinctively wanted to punch the warrior hard in the chest. But she doubted very much that she would even be able to hurt him. Nor would that change anything to rid herself of the guilt she felt at not being chosen.
Continuing on as though he hadn’t realised what she had been about to do to him, Halmark said, “Perhaps if these people were worth saving, I might lend my blade to their cause but as it stands I sense no light in any of them. Not even the boy. They’ve all been tainted by the darkness. Their innocence shed like morning dross. There are none among them worth saving. Better that we all die here.” His callous words triggering a memory Amaryllis had long pushed back to the furthest recesses of her mind…
...She’d been helping to clean the temple courtyard with her father when news came that a nearby village had been sacked by trolls. The bedraggled refugees who’d survived the slaughter coming south to wait outside the temple’s gates, their ragged clothing coated in layers of dust, and led by a girl no older than Amaryllis was with flame coloured eyes that had seen far too much.
“Please, sir, we only wish to stay a couple of days till the young ones can walk again. Then we’ll be gone from here.”
Her father, a former warrior who had spent most of his life fighting was a bluff, stout faced man with horns aged yellow by time, wearing immaculate white robes he’d always done his best to keep clean. His sea blue eyes always looking beyond a person’s words to the hidden meaning within them.
Since that day she’d always thought her father to be a wise and honorable man which is why she it was such a shock when he replied, “No.” Defying any explanation, reason or sense of logic.
Clouded by anger, the young girl had clenched her fists by sides and looked ready to strike Myrllis’ father when suddenly she unclenched them and shook her head from side to side, tears springing down her mud encrusted cheeks to cut through the dirt and sweat. “Why?”
Arms crossed against his chest, Daysun replied coldly, “No. Now go!”
Furious at what she’d borne witness to, Maryllis had burst into her father’s chamber later that day to demand why he would abandon those that had sought the light when her mother Azal spoke for him. “You’re too young to understand it yet, Myrl, but this is what’s best for the village.”
“Why?! Why won’t I understand?! Explain to me why you would turn them away?! Why?” She screamed breathlessly.
Mother smiled gently, and pressed a warm hand to Amaryllis’ cheek. Her soft blue eyes full of tenderness. “Because within us all resides a great darkness my dear, and through the kind of suffering they have endured that darkness can become too much for them. Few can escape it’s clutches when it’s touched them so deeply. In order for them to return to the light they must find their own path, without our help.”
“And, Grey?”
Azal shrugged her shoulders. “He is still young. I cannot say yet what he will become...”
Halmark’s words brought that same kind of helplessness, frustration, and anger she’d had felt at that moment, her parent’s actions controlled by a fear that they would all somehow fall prey to the dark one’s grasp or be dragged into a fight not of their choosing. She had wanted to argue with them, make them realise that by abandoning these people they would only serve to push them further away from the light, but being barely a child herself, she had thought they had known better. It’s why she had done nothing but watch as those that came to her village were turned away.
And there was always more.
The constant war with the trolls, the constant battle with the darkness, their constant struggle to survive seemed to never end and that always brought those seeking a place to shelter from the storm. Their isolated, hidden village, protected from the dangers of the world.
But now as she looked back towards the people captured with her, she saw the despair written on their faces and realised she could no longer watch and stay back. She could not turn aside because it was easier, or because she was too afraid to act, she could not be that person that did not help because of how it would all end. Even the Fated, fanatics of the Lightbearer who believed that all actions were set in stone, believed in the Winds Of Destiny which meant her path could yet be unmarked for a time. If Halmark would not help her, then she would help herself, and these people. (+ 20 Light.)
Finger pressed to her lips, she all but ignored the exiled Honor Blade as she tried to think of a spell that would help free her. As she had told Sky and Grey, she had learned only a few spells from her mother, but most of her magic was quite rudimentary at best and illusion magic wouldn’t really work in this kind of situation. She thought she might be able to summon a phantom army of ghosts to attack from the Ash Lands in the dead of night, but she doubted very much she could hold the spell for very long and it would still leave her locked up inside of a cage.
No, first she had to break the lock somehow or bend the bars…or maybe the wooden boards beneath her would be easier, Myrllis thought as she looked down at her feet.
The worn out planks of wood while solid enough, seemed like the quickest solution to her problem while offering some cover at the same time.
The only problem with that idea was she would need to use the same kind of magic her mother had forbidden her to wield. Though why Azal thought anything besides the healing arts was dark magic still made no sense to her. As far back as she could remember the magic she’d felt flowing through her had always felt pure and clean, separate from the darkness she sensed in the Ash. But then mother and father saw all magic that caused violence as dark magic or the cause of darkness. She didn’t really know which was true, although it did make sense that they could both be right.
In any case there was a spell she had used once as a child when she’d gotten lost in the woods searching for Grey who’d gone out hunting with his uncle. It not only had imbued her with the kind of agility that had allowed her to outrun a pack of hungry silver wolves but also the strength to climb up high into a tree.
Her decision made, she began to formulate a plan of escape. She would not stand by. Not anymore.
To be Continued...