Novels2Search
To HelGate - The Legend of House Raithson
Chapter 7 - Not Evil, but Definitely not Good

Chapter 7 - Not Evil, but Definitely not Good

Chapter

Not Evil, but Definitely not Good

Something tickled at the back of Mikel’s mind as the two men dusted off, and then helped each other reorient their clothing. All in all, they sat there preening for ten minutes before either turned back to talk about what came next.

“What do you mean, not an exact clone?” Mikel asked as they finally came over to him, having sat and stewed for the last while. The crowd had dispersed after it became obvious the fight was over, leaving him to his thoughts.

“Your father was never a humble man,” Telgil said as he picked at a slick of gravel embedded in his arm, “None too easy to get along with a lot of the time. He was always right, even if he were dead wrong. You know how awful that is to live with?”

Mikel winced slightly and Telgil grimaced, “Sorry there, boyo. Slipped my lips it seems. Of course, you know. You’d be one of the few who did.”

Mikel shifted and regarded the two men before changing the conversation, “So what, you two are old friends again? I don’t want to reignite another brawl, but I am curious. It just seems a bit... Obtuse.”

Helsket wiped beading sweat from his forehead, the moisture wicking away much of the dirt, leaving him with a clean patch of skin on top of a bald patch of skin. He looked, in some way, like an over-large, old jungle cat spotted with dirt instead of fur and hair.

“That little tussle? That wasn’t anything. We didn’t even have swords.”

“You’ve… You’ve done that with weapons?”

Helsket and Telgil looked at each other once more before laughter peeled from them like twin explosions.

“Boy, you are funny - I’ll tell you what,” Telgil chortled as Helsket slapped him on the back, “You’ve got one heck of a sense of humor - doesn’t he, Helly?”

“Helly” laughed even harder.

“You know, he’s serious,” The big man managed between breaths and rocking laughter, “He’s an absolute saint - he even turned down the cute barmaid last night!”

Telgil grunted and regarded Mikel.

“A bit skinny, don’t you think? Could he hold his own in a fight?”

Mikel bristled, “I am not skinny. I work out each day and I have mostly muscle on my frame.”

“Yeah,” Telgil said,” Mostly skinny muscle!”

At that both old warriors began to laugh again, this time holding each other so neither took a spill into the dirt - not that it would matter. Aside from the small spot on Helsket’s forehead, both men were coated in street filth streaked with sweat.

Moments later, the two men quieted and turned back to one another to chat.

“Helly,” Telgil said, “I knew seeing you’d be trouble, but am I ever glad you showed up. The young charge included.”

Helsket shrugged and looked at Mikel, “I’m not so certain of him yet. He couldn’t even hold his liquor last night.”

“Same stuff you gave me?”

“Even better - local rotgut. Hot, acrid, and burns on the way down and the way out.”

Telgil chortled before looking at Mikel once more in the odd twilight Farraway experienced this time of year.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Mikel grimaced, tired of being the butt of jokes he hardly understood, nor cared to understand. Time was wasting and he was about to tear into Helsket and Telgil (To the best extent he could manage) when the strange-looking smith spoke up, as if he'd read Mikel's intent and had moved to head him off before another scene broke out.

“Well, let’s not stand outside all night,” Telgil said, “‘l’ll lead the way in and you two follow. Stay close, don’t talk to anyone unless they talk first and no, I repeat NO stopping at a brothel.”

Helsket grunted, “Not my thing. If memory serves you were the one who always frequented the lady's sheets.”

Telgil fingered his chin in thought, “Is that how it was? It’s been so long I can’t remember," He shrugged noncommittally and continued, "Well, looks like we’ll just have to go to one after all and jog the old memory!”

A massive smile split Telgil’s face as he turned towards the door of his smithy, yanked it open, and walked into the utter darkness beyond the threshold as if it were broad daylight. The smell of old burnt, char and cloth poured from the entryway and a chill air bore it into the heat of the night as if winter had arrived all of a sudden.

Mikel regarded the swirling portal with caution, wincing at the smell and the chill air, “Is that… safe? It looks dark, almost evil.”

Helsket was rubbing his jaw as he responded, “It’s the real deal. It’ll take us wherever Telgil wants to go.”

“But… aren’t we just going into his smithy?”

He could feel something wafting off of the portal - something heavy and immense. It felt as if an entire world were contained behind the dark entry where Mikel could at most, make out dull images of things within the room beyond.

When he’d had enough and was about to step forward to examine it more closely, The Callisto Jewel shivered and stopped him dead.

His hand darted to the hidden gem and clutched it tight - the cloth of his shirt buffering his skin from the brutal cold that suddenly poured off the gem.

Helsket caught the motion and the chuckle on his lips died as he saw the stunned look on his young friend's face.

“Everything alright, Mikel? You look like a goose walked over your grave.”

Mikel glanced at Helsket and shook his head, “Don’t know. The Jewel just… shivered or shifted or something. That portal doesn’t feel right - something about it feels off. I feel, if I stepped through it, I’d cease to be. I wouldn’t die. I wouldn’t be torn apart… I’d just stop. Why do I feel that way?” His gaze bore into Helsket and the older man shook his head slowly.

“I can tell you what’s beyond the portal, but it won’t do any good. What’s there, in the smithy, it must be seen to be believed.”

“Why do I feel like I’ll… Die?” Mikel shivered again as the frigid sensation finally bypassed his shirt and began to sink into his hand. Despite the pain in his hand, he kept his cool the best he could and lifted the shirt wrapped around the gem further away to keep The Jewel from touching his skin.

Helsket regarded the doorframe, “There are legends about this, believe it or not. How evil can’t enter.” His gaze swung back to Mikel, “I never thought you’d be one to stumble that particular wrinkle.”

Mikel winced as his mind rolled through what Helsket had just said. He knew he wasn't all good - who was? But to feel this way about entering into a strange doorway that had something magical about it? It didn't make sense - not that anything had made much sense since the day his dad and been stricken by The Rot. He felt he should be used to this sort of thing by now.

Either way, he wanted to follow Telgil into the shop, part of him at least; another part shivered in tune with The Callisto Jewel held tight in his hand.

Several minutes passed before he raised his eyes to Helsket's, sure he'd gleaned what had happened to him - why he felt such dread about passing the threshold.

“I killed someone, Helsket,” Mikel said, gripping The Callisto Jewel tighter, “I’m evil. Whatever’s beyond that portal… I can’t go through. I'm a bad person. It's that simple.”

Helsket swiveled like a stone statue, regarded Mikel with even eyes, and then turned back to the doorway which had become the central hub of their dilemma.

Then, the mood suddenly shifted as Helsket chortled, turned, and walked towards Mikel with an amicable stride, “You’re not evil boyo. If killing someone made you evil, myself, Telgil, and your papa would be on hel’s rolls. Now -” Helsket stopped and held up his hands, “I’m not saying I’m not on that particular list, but I’m not on there for killing. I can guarantee that.”

“But your reasons were never bad, Helsket. I killed to get this.” Mikel squeezed the shivering gem to make his point. At this point, his hand ached as if frostbite were setting in.

“What you did is no less than I or your father have done. You say you killed someone to get that thing,” he pointed at Mikel’s clenched fist, “I’ve killed people to get things. So has your father. So have most people we'll meet on this little jaunt of yours. To turn evil takes a certain… Bent of character none of us have. Most of all you. You’re safe, as far as I can tell.”

Another shiver ran through Mikel, starting at the gem held tight in his hand. He wasn't reassured. He wasn’t sure if Helsket was right - and although he might not be evil, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wasn’t good anymore. Whatever seed that spawned good in people had died when he’d chosen to follow the path he walked now. There was no turning back. There was no stopping. The only way out was through.

Helsket chuckled, turned, and took two steps forward, putting his nose to the surface of the portal, “Hey, Telgil said brothel. You don’t fight the man and you don’t get in the way of him and women - he’s a terror in the boudoir and on the battlefield. There are legends aplenty detailing his exploits in both. Plus, you’re in a sour mood. What’s beyond this,” He pointed to the doorway, “is sure to perk you up.”

"You should come. It's going to blow your mind - if you don't, as you say, cease to be simply by passing through - which, incidentally, will solve all of your issues anyway." The big man shrugged and made to walk through the portal, which would have left Mikel alone, confused, and isolated. None of which sounded particularly attractive to him.

Helsket was about to pass the barrier when Mikel ran up and put his hand on Helsket’s shoulder.

“Are you sure about this? Whatever this is - It frightens me on a level I didn't know I had.”

“Oh, aye,” Helkest said, grinning, “We probably won’t hit a brothel with time being so short, but seeing Telgil in his element will be good again.”

“You mean in the smithy?” Mikel knew the doorway wasn't just a door, but he still had a hard time imagining a brothel being beyond the threshold... By the cold and the smell wafting from the opening, not a brothel he wanted to visit at any rate.

“I mean what I said. You’re in for a treat boy just as soon as you -”

Mikel didn’t see the grab and throw coming. Before he knew what had occurred he was careening through the strange portal, bodilly tossed by Helsket, to gods only knew where.