It was a loud, resounding scream right outside his foundry, that brought him out of his meditation. Once he was aware of his surroundings, he realized that the scream was not a solitary one.
The sight that greeted him as he stepped outside was a startling one. Many houses and shops were burning. People were running around scared. There was commotion everywhere. In the midst of all this chaos, the bandits ransacked the place, without being challenged.
Before he could react, one of the riders came up to him and leered at him.
“What are you looking at? Hand over all your money if you want to live.”
“I don’t think I will be doing that.”
The answer caught the rider by surprise. The shock was soon replaced by fury.
“How dare you speak to me in that insolent tone? Have you lost the will to live? Or is that you have not heard of the Pamiskari, you fool?”
His pleasant face remained impassive.
“You shall kiss the dirt at my feet or face my wrath, you insolent cur!!”
For a moment, he was silent. Then in a calm voice, he said, “You’re making me angry. You wouldn’t like me when I am angry.“
“Psst! Come with me. There is something I want to show you.”
It was still dawn and the sun hasn’t yet risen. They crept slowly through the shadowy woods, taking extreme care not to make any noise. The younger one started getting anxious.
“You know we are not allowed to go this deep into the woods.”
“Don’t be a sissy. Stay close to me and nothing will happen.”
After almost an hour of moving stealthily, they reached a clearing, near a lake. Two figures were silhouetted against the rising sun, the lake shining like a glass mirror behind them. The two kids watched with wide eyes as the two figures faced each other.
The tall, slim figure belonged to a woman. With the air of a predator, she observed her opponent. Had they gotten closer, they would’ve seen, that despite her bold stance, her eyes were cautious, cautious as they studied him intensely.
The short, strapping figure was undoubtedly male. He stood stock still, maintaining a low stance. He was much shorter than she, and his wild hair gave him a savage look. There was definitely something animal in his eyes.
The two young voyeurs watched them breathlessly. For a long instance, all was still. The audience. The two fighters. The lake. The sky.
With a loud battle cry, she launched herself at him. His eyes narrowed as he effortlessly blocked her kick, even as she spun and delivered two more in rapid succession. One of them broke through and hit the man on his ribs. He staggered back, but quickly regained his stance. That brief instance was enough for her to launch her next attack. Blow after blow, she drove him back, her attacks faster than the eye could see. Yet, hardly any connected as he skillfully defended himself, parrying and blocking most of the blows. After a while, her blows came down less harshly, her face now covered in sweat.
She drew back and fell into a defensive stance. With an animal growl, he attacked. His attack was swift and brutal. She dodged most of them, only catching a glacing blow in between. With each missed blow, his rage grew, but he kept it in check. He threw a weighted punch to her right shoulder. She fell for the feint, dodging, only to catch a kick from the right. A gasp escaped her lips. She pulled back a little and launched into a renewed offensive. She was obviously no match for him in power. What she lacked in strength, she made up in skill. They danced for a while more before backing off.
Even as they studied each other, the man suddenly went stiff. He sniffed the air and looked right at the boys. Terrified, the two stumbled backwards, turned around and ran into the woods.
The guard paused to stifle a yawn. He thought it ironic that someone like his master would need guarding, and in the several years of his service, there has been no major disturbances. Yet, he maintained contsant vigil.
He nodded to his partner as they passed each other on the patrol. There was plenty of time left on their shift and it would be a while before he could rest. Pushing away tantalising thoughts of home, he continued patrolling. A long night lay ahead of him. Or so he thought.
An intense, piercing pain shot through his neck for a moment, before he blacked out.
One by one, the guards were dropped by arrows. A dark figure ran through the shadows towards the backdoor. A few deft movements with his lock pick and he was inside. Without making any noise, he crept through the room and paused at the door. From the voices, he could make out atleast 5 security guards, and possibly more. He was at the doors of the barracks. He waited for a few moments, picturising the room, positioning each guard mentally from their voices. He readied 3 arrows on his bow. Checking that his dirk was accessible on his belt, he kicked open the door.
The events of the next few moments were a blur of arrows and blades. The first 3 guards dropped instantly, with arrows sticking out of their chests. The next one got full eight inches of blade in his gut, and in a flowing motion, he pulled out the knife and slashed the next one’s neck. Two guard were sleeping in the bunks. Hearing the commotion, they jumped out of their cots and reached for their swords, only to be felled by two more arrows in rapid succession. In under a minute, the room lay still as he observed the scene with dispassionate eyes. All his mercy had died the day they took his father.
He made his way through the house, backstabbing and slitting the throats of any patrolling guards until he reached his destination – the trophy room. It took some amount of trying before he was able to pick the lock and enter. The trophy room was huge with countless glass cases on either side stretching into the distance. He knew he had very little time before reinforcements arrived. Even he couldn’t take down an entire army on his own. He ran down one side, quickly scanning through the items, until he found it, the glass case labelled with his father’s name.
The sight of it sickened him. His father’s mask was placed on the velvet floor of the case. Beside it was his father’s lucky bow and several arrow heads – the trick arrows. Moments later, he was on his way out, sneaking through the shadows, running, climbing walls. He had got what he had come for. Vengeance will have to wait for another day.
It was the smoke that led him to that place. His view was blocked by the towering trees, but the acrid smell of burning flesh told him that something was terribly wrong. He broke into a run.
The sight that met his eyes was ghastly. The long, serpentile form of a majestic, green dragon lay crashed through the trees, smoke billowing from several places, its shiny, green hide spotted with bruises and cuts.
He approached it cautiously. The dragon had apparently passed on, leaving behind its mortal husk. The magical energies contained in its body were already escaping to the heavens. Even as he walked around the body of the mighty beast, a human gasp sounded nearby and he realized, with a start, that the dragon was a manned one.
The broken form of a tall, thin person lay a few feet away, in a pool of blood. His shiny, green robe was soaked in blood and his painful moans foretold impending death.
He knelt beside the dying rider and examined him for signs of life. The heart beat was faint. Suddenly, the rider’s eyes flickered open. His breath was long and drawn.
“They will be here soon. You have to run away.”
“Who are you? Who is coming?”
“They will kill you, and they will take the Ring. It must not fall into their hands. You have to take it.”
The rider nodded to his right hand. A large, emerald ring shone on his finger.
“Take it. Take it and run away.”
The boy took it from the rider’s fingers. Even as he was removing it, the air grew dark and heavy. Terror-struck, he looked up at the rider, but he had breathed his last. He could hear movement behind him in the woods. Fearful, he clutched the Ring in his hand and ran into the darkness of the woods.
The magical energies crackled around him, tearing into the very fiber of his being. The pain was unbearable, beyond all human limits, and with every passing moment, his mortality slipped away as the magical energies reformed his body.
Solid white energy flowed from the twin diamonds, impaling his body, and then diffusing into it, hardening it.
Yellow energy flowed from the topaz, dancing around his body, and fading to form an invisible shield around his body.
Red energy flowed from the ruby, searing through everything in its path. It gathered around his body, infusing him with the power of fire.
Blue energy flowed from the sapphire, leaving a icy mist in its wake. As the energy crackled around his body, the mist rose to obscure him from vision.
They were too busy playing with their wooden swords to notice the thundering hooves. In their childish make-believe world, they were valiant knights fighting for the hand of the fair lady. A feint, a parry, a thrust – the battle raged on. They were evenly matched, with skills disproportionate to their age. Until one of them made a mistake.
“Yield! You have lost!”
It is in that moment of triump, when fierce concentration was replaced with triumphant joy, that he saw the riders. The fire. The ashes. The dead. Even as horror dawned on them, their vision was obscured by several dark shapes. The riders. They had surrounded them, observing them with barely concealed amusement. Their leader came forward.
“Your game has amused us. You children have some skill. I am sure the master would like to see you.”
They looked at each other in fear. Two children in a childhood that had suddenly gone wrong. Very wrong.
An apology to all my dear readers. The previous chapter of DHC needs retconning. Hence, I am (once more) declaring all previous episodes as invalid. One main reason for retconning was the power level Xion has achieved. This would’ve made the story too boring and one-sided. Please bear with me as i work on a more believable story line.
Regards,
fr0z3n