Novels2Search

Echo 8:

A memory, or a dream: The Empire of Bahrati, Capital City Anum Toris, Dungeon.

Lodran paced in a cell as the moon hung in a cloudless sky. He wondered when exactly everything had failed. Was it when he tried to kill the Human while he trained, or when he forced him to save the servant?

"It was when you received our letter."

He spun around and gaped at the sight of an Aelfan woman wearing a black mask with a red smile painted on it.

"You!" He shouted, rushing over to the bars. He grabbed her cloak and pulled her closer. "This is all your fault!" He shouted.

"It was your pride." The woman said. "Your conceit. How fitting it is that your source of pride was also your downfall." The cloak turned into black ooze that slipped through Lodran's fingers, making him lose his grip on her. He stared at his hands in shock. He tried to unclench his hands, but they refused to unclench. "What is the mea-ulk!" A glob of black ooze shot into his open mouth and he spat out as much of it as he could. He went to shout at the woman again, but his mouth wouldn't open. He felt at his mouth, and to his horror, his mouth was sealed shut, glued together by the black substance.

"You have served your purpose admirably, Lord Wyrashe." The woman said. "Thanks to your timely work, the missing prince will find his way to the throne."

Lodran backed away from the woman, his eyes wide in fear. He stood in the light of the moon and looked at his hands, which had fused into vaguely fist-shaped balls of black gunk. He felt something trickling down his throat, tickling it. He couldn't cough, and so he reflexively swallowed. He found himself unable to breathe, as his esophagus had sealed shut. His lungs burned as he pawed at his throat in futility.

The smile on the Aelfan woman's mask seemed to widen before it split apart and spat another glob of black ooze at Lodran, which covered his whole face. Blinded, he reached up to try to clear his vision, only for his hands to become stuck to his face. He flailed around the cell impotently until at last, he suffocated to death. The woman held her hand out, and slowly, the gunk flowed off his body and returned to her..

She turned toward where I was and she said, "It is a pity that you do not remember these visits." She gestured toward Lodran. "He would have been a bitter enemy had we not intervened, and your bloodline would remain unknown." She chuckled. "Bearer of the Crimson Emperor's blood, bearer of his name, all is set for your ascension, you need only grasp it..."

A memory, or a dream: The City of Wyrvale.

Spex sat in a well-lit cell, chained to the floor with a cage over his snout, and manacles around his wrists and fingers, preventing any sort of fine manipulation of his fingers. He had an annoyed expression on his face.

The target had caught him off guard. Sure, Spex knew he could case one Divine Spell, but he'd never seen one activate silently before. Not only that, but the target had wordlessly struck him with magic that felt like he'd been given a solid slap on the gut. Those things alone would not have stopped him, but together, it was certainly enough to allow him to get captured.

The Guard Captain himself came to the cell door with an Aelfan by his side. "Your fine's paid, you're free to go."

Spex smirked as he was unshackled and unrestrained. He wordlessly rubbed his wrists before following the Aelfan from the cell. Once they were out of the prison, with Spex's supplies regained, Spex spoke.

"I never thought you'd come to bail me out, Guildmaster." He said.

"Considering the coin you were given for the contract turned out to be fake, someone had to."

"Fake, Guildmaster?" Spex asked.

"The Contract is void, you were swindled." The Aelfan glanced at Spex, who was silently chastising himself. "Do not fret, this was an excellent forgery only the Lord of Coin could make. Only I was able to notice what was wrong with it."

"I will have to see it and learn." Spex stated. "Even fake coin can be of use."

"Indeed." The Aelfan stepped into an alleyway, Spex followed until the Aelfan stopped, turned around, and knelt. "Spex, the situation will be explained to the Lady Wyrashe, I will request leniency, whatever price she asks for such will be paid, understood?"

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

Spex nodded. "Understood." He said.

"With luck, the price should not be too steep. That said, I have an important contract that requires your expertise. There is no failure with this, you will merely be doing the necessary groundwork."

"What do you require?"

"There is a thief in the Windsong Guild Hall, I want you to see if you can find them, and if possible, kill them. I also want you to make an attempt at joining them, report back to me what happens."

"We already know what will happen." Spex stated. "I will do as required, but I will not pursue it further once it becomes clear my presence is not tolerated." He paused. "Is there anything else that is required?"

"Rest up and do us proud." The Aelfan stated. "Oh, and before I forget. There is news of a Noble within town, one who is incognito. If you learn who this is, alert us immediately. The Sable Vargal must know any and all Nobility operating within the city."

"That should be easy to find." Spex remarked. "Will you seek retribution against Lodran Wyrashe?"

"I have heard he was taken away for brandishing a Conceit Fiend Crystal around the two humans in Lady Wyrashe's estate." The Aelfan stated. "Death would be a mercy at this point, best to let his punishment carry out before we flay him alive."

Spex looked uncomfortable. "That joke discomforts me, Guildmaster."

"Right. Apologies."

Spex vanished, and the Aelfan smirked. "You are certain?"

A dark figure stepped from the darkness, swathed in loose, tattered robes, the black-dyed skull of an unusual beast poking out of the hood.

"I am certain he will lead the Guild to glory." A pair of pale blue flames burned in the skull's sockets, "Indeed, he has within himself the capacity to lead us to greater challenges." There was a heavy pause in the air, the skull-headed figure looked around.

"Does someone scry on us?" The Aelfan asked.

"Wandering eyes and minds gaze fondly upon our visage, we have nothing to fear." The figure looked at the Aelfan. "Neither friend nor foe, it seems another Eye gazes back."

"I see. Shall I seek this observer?"

The skull-headed figure shook its head. "No. They will make things very, very interesting."

O-o, O-o. O-o, O-o...

Spex stopped as he stood atop a rooftop. He looked around. He had felt, briefly, that someone had been spying on him and his Guildmaster, yet he saw nobody. This was no isolated incident either, he'd felt unknown eyes on him before, when he had accepted the contract, when he had spoken with his ally a few nights ago.

"Identify yourself." He said, a knife in hand. There was silence, an uncomfortable lack that caused a chill to run up his spine. Spex felt as though there was an unknown threat stalking him. He vanished, appearing several Khenra away. He vanished again, and again, taking a long, circuitous path, yet every time he appeared, that sensation of being watched never left him.

A cold chill of dread ran down his spine as he realized he was being scried upon. Someone not only knew him, but knew of him well enough to follow him in spite of his abilities. Paranoid, he carefully looked around, searching for any sign of immediate attack, any sign of an assailant readying to strike.

"But nobody came." This voice chilled Spex, who turned around to face a cloaked man wearing a black, wooden mask. On the mask was an expression, crudely painted on, of agony. Spex took a step back, a feeling of dread filling his heart at the sight of something so child-like expressing such pain. He blinked as a small gust of wind blew into his face, and the figure was gone, his eyes narrowed as he looked around, he froze when he felt cold steel against the nape of his neck.

"Who are you, and what do you want from me?" The Kobolti asked.

"Nothing." The masked man spoke. "Your fear caught my attention, and it has been far too long since I've had any fun."

Spex took a slow, deep breath and calmed himself. "A murderer, then." He said. "And one who can do as I do."

He vanished into the air and threw three knives at his assailant, the man caught each one with practiced ease and threw them back. Spex caught them mid-air and teleported behind the man. He blinked, his brow furrowed as he kicked at empty air.

He had the sense that he was in danger, but wasn't certain where it came from. He looked around slowly, carefully, his eyes widening as the cloaked figure came at him with a raised sword. Spex teleported away as the sword stuck his face, he snarled as blood ran down his face and into his right eye.

The man took his mask off, revealing a Lacertian face. The Lacertian licked the blood off his sword. Spex smirked.

"Did you know I am immune to certain poisons?" Spex asked. "You're fast, so fast I thought you could do as I do, yet..." He grinned as the Lacertian began to cough up blood. "Though my veins flow with blood and poison, I stand strong, while you struggle to breathe."

The Lacertian grinned as he put the mask back on. "It is fortuitous, then, I will have to find my meal elsewhere." The Lacertian vanished, and Spex raised a bottle to his lips. The wound over his eye sealed shut and he wiped the blood off with his sleeve.

He looked around, his brow furrowed.

He was still being watched...

"Well?" The masked Lacertian slowed to a stop near a man wearing a scowling mask.

"He might survive." The Lacertian stated. "The problem is catching him."

"Then it would not be worth it." The Scowling Man answered.

"And the other?" The Lacertian asked.

"Promising, he shows the potential to be what we seek."

The Lacertian chuckled, his fingers twitched as a thin line of bloody drool dripped from the mask he wore. The Scowling Man tossed him a glass vial that the Lacertian drank.

"Fel." The Lacertian stated.

"A promising candidate, then?" The Scowling Man asked. "But not like mine. Perhaps we might offer, rather than take?"

"I do not relish the idea of dying." The Lacertian stated. "But he is otherwise fated, yes?"

"A mercy, then." The Scowling Man mused. "I shall do all I can to indebt him to us, and he in turn will join willingly and enthusiastically. Especially if it kills you."

The Lacertian scowled, but nodded. "But only when the time is right." He stated. "I will have the Priest nearby."

The Scowling Man turned away and walked into the darkness, the shadows twisted around him, and five winged beasts flew out into the city.

The Lacertian grinned. He enjoyed a good hunt...