Novels2Search
Lord of the Night
The First King Chapter 5

The First King Chapter 5

The two bandits comes to defend their screaming companion. The scream seems to have made them sober. The first one is killed too easy: I cracked his skull open with a vertical swing to his head. He must be scared out of his mind to freeze up like that. It feels like chopping wood. The other one tries to run when he realizes what is happening. I would say he is the smart one of the group. Shame I cannot let anyone go. I jump forward, hurling myself towards the running man. My khopesh sinks into his back. I feel the blade sliding against his spine and out of his chest. The man falls quickly, with me on his back.

Looks like Christmas came early this year. Let's see what we have here... Are those leather gauntlets? I'll be taking those. I bent over to lift up the hand of the dead man. I hold the man's hand with both my elbows and slide the gauntlet off. I do the exact same thing with the other hand.

I raise  my hands towards the night sky to get a better look at the leather gauntlets. I do not actually have to, since my eyesight is pristine in the night. It just goes to show that I have not gotten used to my situation yet. The black colored gauntlets looks unique. Black has always been one of my favourite colours, though purple is my first, since it has always stayed with me throughout the years.

I look around the camp for anything else that I can loot. Hmm, is that it? Three souls and a pair of gauntlets is all I got. I sigh and pull my khopesh out of the the bandit’s back. I slide it into the sheath on my belt. Am I a thief now? I would not call it stealing, since the man is dead, not to mention that you cannot steal from someone who has stolen in the first place, or could you? If the wagon had been better protected, this would not have happened. It probably was, why send a boy and a woman alone with a cart of valuable items? There are no horses either. The cart would need horses, and this one looks like it is built to be pulled by two. Whatever happened here, it was certainly interesting. I stop my inner monologue because of an irritating noise.

“Excuse me sir! “

“Mr. Skeleton? “

“Hello?”

Damn, I forgot the kid tied to the tree. Which means that he saw the entire fight, plus my crawling around  and looking for loot. I am definitely going to lose human points for that; I should have saved him first to increase my chances of triggering a memory. If memories are indeed triggered by acts of kindness.

“You were standing there, really still, for a really long time. I-I thought you died “

I try to laugh, but instead it turns into me clacking my jaws together, reverberating throughout the camp. I expected that it would make the boy flinch, but he just looks at me in a sort of curious wonder. He has probably seen greater horrors during this past day than my own pathetic attempt at a laugh.

We gaze at each other. I look into his glossy grey eyes, and he into my blazing blue eye sockets.

“You're going to kill me, right? “The little boy asks after a long pause.

With slow, deliberate, movements, I once again draw my Khopesh. I am sure the souls of children tastes good. I advance towards the boy, and he shuts his eyes. I rest my khopesh against the boy's chest, then proceed to slice the rope that ties him down.

I did the same for the rope around his feet. The boy still refuses to open his eyes, even holding his breath. I suppose I cannot blame him for thinking that I would kill him. I have to clack my jaws several times, just to get his attention. When he  open his eyes, he seems uncertain about what to do next.

The boy then lunges towards me. I  am so surprised I almost cut him down. I look down and sees him hugging me. I could feel his soul fill with joy. It is then I see the color of his soul, since the glow around him is different from any of the others I have seen.

His soul is a mix of red and yellow, bright like a blazing fire. I feel the growing happiness and relief from his soul. This also happened with the bear, close contact allows me to sense emotions. It feels odd to know the emotions of others. As much as I enjoy hugs, this is getting kind of creepy. I begin to pry the boy's arms and fingers off from around my waist.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“I told her you were nice! She didn't believe me at all!“, The young boy said, as his fingers seem to somehow get around my hands, despite my efforts to pry him off me. What was wrong with this kid, didn't his parents teach him not to talk to dead things that move? That is actually common sense. He begins to pull me towards the cart, and my first thoughts were to pull my hand away to leave. I already earned my human points, but there were no new memories.

“She's somewhere here, she doesn't know where, but it's definitely in one of these boxes. The voice is really nice, you'll like her!“ Damn, why is he so loud? I watch as he tries to lift up one of the crates from the stack. What is this voice that he is so concerned about? I am no  stranger to voices in my head. I remember the voice on the battlefield, if this voice is anything like the last one, I do not have high hopes to meet the voice’s origin.

I wonder how anyone could fit into these boxes. The kid must have been played, or he has gone mad. Most likely he went mad. The kid has gone through a lot; being under a bandit attack, captured, tortured, and seen his captors killed. Then he met a skeleton who should have killed him, but instead it rescued him. And his mother is dead, if that even is his mother, that is. I will pin the murder on the bandit if anyone ever asks.

“Hey! excuse me! You're doing that thing again where you stay really still, it's kind of creepy. Help me open these things so we can find her.“ I look at the youth, expand my ribcage and rescind it again, as I bow my head. Hopefully that looks like I am sighing. If anyone here is creepy it is not me. I am not even sure about what I am doing here anymore. God only knows when the revenge of the burning rays will happen again.

The boy strains to open the sealed crates. Two of the crates by the campfire are opened and empty. The bandits used something to pry it open. I move closer to the crate the boy is trying to open. I lift him up, then put him down to the right of me. Then I force the tip of the khopesh between the cover of the crate, until it is halfway into the crate. Using the khopesh like a crowbar I open up the box. With the sound of broken wood, the cover opens and I take a look at the insides.

This crate does not have anyone in it. No surprise here. I begin to unpack all the furs and fabrics, just to make sure that no one is under them. However, I find nothing. The boy then points to another box eagerly. I repeat the process again; crack open the cover, nothing, unpack it, nothing still. The third crate is the same. The fourth and last box has no one in it when I crack the cover. I was about to leave the insane boy there, but as I move the furs and fabrics in the fourth crate aside: I spot a lantern.

I pick up the lantern, only to see that it is not a lantern, but instead a black box with a handle on top. I see that the box has a metallic silver glow around it. I have never seen a glow around an inanimate object before. Maybe it is not inanimate, but alive. A metal box that is alive?

The box has clamps around the side to prevent the it from opening spontaneously. I start to undo the clamps on the box. I feel an odd sensation throughout my body, then the box opens. A smoky golden mist comes out and pools around my feet, only to slowly disappear seconds later. What I see in the box stuns me.

Inside the box is a fairy. The first thing I do is check the color of the fairy in my reservoir mode, which is my new name for my ability to see the glowing energy. The fairy does not glow, nor does it have any color. Damn, a dead fairy. As if to prove me wrong, the small creature, which is only the size of one of my fingers, turns her head. Her eyes are black, the leaf, which is worn around her in the fashion of a dress, is dried up. Her hair is short, black, and her skin is pale with black cracks all over her body. Bone is all that remains of her wings.

She looks away from me, as if I am a mere illusion. Then she turns back to face me again, her eyes hopelessly questioning me. She wipes her eyes, stands up, and proceeds to zombie walk towards the edge of the box. Hello little fairy, seems like you've been through a rough time, I always pictured fairies to be more lively and cute, I thought. At least she is cute.

A smile creeps across the little fairy’s face. At first, but I know a smile when I see one. Then the strangest things begins to happen: her black hair began to grow down to her shoulders, changing from black to golden. The changes move down through her body like a wave, skin turning porcelain, and her wings are now a vibrant yellow. The dead leaf she wears rejuvenates, turning into what it was before: a sparkling, yellow rose petal. Then the glowing begins.

Until now all the living things I have seen only glows out a couple of inches from their bodies at best, and some are so thin that it is barely visible. Her glow is like a second sun. Her wings beat like a hummingbird, and she gracefully floats up into the air, golden dust trailing her, as her glow fills the area until even I am consumed by it.