Cade could not help but hum at the sight of the mask over his face; he thought he looked a bit ridiculous, though imposing as the doctor had said. "Thank you," Cade sighed as the doctor lowered the mirror and released the strap over his forehead. Cade leaned his head forward and cracked his neck. As the last of the straps fell away, the doctor took a seat on the stool and grabbed one final vial and syringe.
"This is the suppressant to the Lodone. It will rid you of any further side effects," the doctor told him. He stuck the needle into Cade's arm and then discarded the syringe.
"You may feel a bit woozy for the next thirty minutes or so," Doctor Smirnov smiled, "That is normal. And you will not be able to blink for the next day or so; hopefully, your eyelids will have grown back by then." The doctor reached in his pocket and produced a small container of saline and another small capped container of pills. "You can moisten your eye with this in the meantime. I also have some more painkillers for you, not Lodone of course, but they will help with the post-op pain. I would like to have you come back here sometime tomorrow for me to examine you if that would not be any trouble. Do you have any further questions?"
"I do not believe I do," Cade muttered while standing up. He did feel a bit light headed like the doctor said he would, but everything else felt normal. He nodded at the doctor. After grabbing his rifle that was resting against the wall, he walked to the door.
As he stepped into the white, brightly lit hallway of the mysterious Ancient structure, President Cade could not help but sigh. He needed to try and get some rest, for he had been fighting against himself for too long. His betrayal of Leonic had prevented him from being as productive as he could. Cade knew he had to put it behind him.
Cade took another step, one resolute in finding a place to lay his weary head, and found himself crashing to the ground and landing on one knee. His head had begun to throb; his mind seemed under attack by wave after wave of pain. Cade could not breathe, and his vision went black. A great white light filled his mind, and as vivid and real as could be he saw an image of a person. He had pale skin and shoulder-length, dark-brown hair. His lower lip bore the tattoo of the Ancient Elven Fyres family, and a soft, emotionless female voice rang in Cade's head.
"Crinnan Jamiso, Demon, terrorist conspirator under the influence of the Lord of The Hells, Ashwraith… Wanted dead or alive, last known location Belhaasi Weald. Report whereabouts or deliver the body to local inquisitors. Praise Dura'Ana. Praise Cidro."
Cade's vision returned, and he fell forward toward the floor, barely stopping himself with the palms of his hands before his face hit. Sweat trickled from his forehead and splashed against the floor. A cold shiver ran through his body.
"No," Cade refused to believe what he was hearing. He reached his arm out and grabbed the rifle he had dropped. As he hurriedly rose to his feet, he thought only of Crinnan, the Demon. Without much more consideration, he ran down the hall, intent on immediately departing for the Belhaasi Weald.
Chapter Five
Crinnan III
22nd of Ramlia – 346AG
12:00 – Belhaasi Weald
Crinnan launched his body toward the kitchen to his left just as the grenade exploded. Shrapnel and fragments of the wooden floor flew through the air and peppered the walls and furniture. Some found themselves embedded in the flesh of Crinnan's back and legs as he leaped over the shoddy breakfast bar and toppled to the floor of the kitchen.
With a pained groan, Crinnan scrambled to his feet and double checked that he still had his revolvers in hand. He was slightly dazed from the blast and raised his guns so that their sights were on what remained of the front door. He monitored his breathing and sidestepped around the breakfast bar, moving back into the kitchen. His breaths steadied, and his mind cleared. After a brief moment, he had regained his focus.
Footsteps pounded against wood and a figure dressed in Govian army fatigues charged through the door. Crinnan fired the gun in his right hand and hit the soldier in the chest, staggering him. He shot his left gun once, and the bullet destroyed the face guard on the Govian's helmet, snapping his head backward. The attacker fell onto the floor, and his weapon skidded out of reach. Without hesitation, Crinnan ducked down and once again took cover behind the bar.
As he waited, Crinnan tried to formulate an escape plan. He had heard at least three distinct voices shouting outside and knew he was outnumbered and outgunned. While he believed he could ultimately best his attackers, the numbers were stacked against him. He knew he had to be smart; to make every shot count. The last thing that he wanted was to die in the Belhaasi Weald.
"To the right!" Crinnan heard a voice shout from outside, "Blast the windows; the Demon is inside!" Crinnan cursed as the windows were on the wall just to his left. He jumped to his feet and dove over the bar in front of him. His body crashed into one of the wooden chairs from the table that he had so recently sat at and eaten with Sage.
Crinnan rolled off the broken chair and onto his back just as the wall across from where he had been hiding exploded and blasted more debris in all directions. Another grenade promptly sailed through the hole that was left by its predecessor. Crinnan covered his head with his hands just in time for the blast.
"Check the house!" a voice shouted. It sounded muffled to Crinnan, for his ears were ringing from the blasts of the grenades, "Find the Demon, he is inside!" Still on his back; Crinnan trained a weapon on each of the holes that had been blasted into the house. He kept his breathing steady and looked directly forward, watching for movement in each of his peripherals.
Another Govian charged through the hole to his left, and Crinnan adjusted his weapon and fired. His bullet hit the side of the Govian's helmet, ricocheting into the roof and briefly leaving the soldier stunned. Crinnan took advantage of the pause and put a bullet through the soldier's face guard, killing him before his body could hit the floor. He heard a memory of the voice of Captain Bran in his head, "Always aim for the facemask!"
Crinnan quickly looked to his right, expecting to see another attacker. He did not see anyone, so he took the time to scramble to his feet. Just as he found his balance, however, a Govian charged through each of the openings, rifles raised and pointed at him.
"Well damn," Crinnan uttered as the soldiers approached. He raised his hands and stood still.
"Drop your guns, Demon!" the one on his right, the closer one, demanded with a young, unsteady-sounding voice. His hearing had returned to normal, "Do it!" Crinnan briefly watched as the soldier briskly walked toward him. He noticed that the weapon was shaking in the soldier's trembling hands and glanced over at the other soldier, noting that he had an unbalanced stance. He knew he was going to make it out of that situation just fine.
Crinnan locked eyes with the trembling soldier and dropped his revolvers. As they clattered to the floor, the Govian stepped closer. When the soldier was only a foot away from him, Crinnan quickly lunged forward. He locked the soldier's rifle beneath his left armpit and shifted the gun to point at the other soldier. The frightened rookie screamed and instinctively pulled the trigger of his trapped weapon, sending a barrage of bullets into his partner.
The standing Govian did not release the trigger even though his magazine was empty. Crinnan had seen plenty of inexperienced soldiers empty full magazines on a target in his time; he had counted on the rookie to make that mistake. Before the Govian had a chance to regain his wits, Crinnan reached his hand out and grabbed the soldier's short sword on his hip and with a shove of his left arm, pushed the soldier away from him. The soldier, still dazed from his sudden adrenaline rush, desperately raised his rifle toward Crinnan and squeezed the trigger. His efforts were met with the clicking of an empty weapon.
"Oops." Crinnan taunted as he rushed forward and planted the sword into the Govian's belly. The soldier gasped, and as he dropped his weapon, Crinnan ripped the blade from his stomach and jammed it through the side of his neck. The point emerged from the other side, and the Govian gargled and fell to his kn
ees.
Blood gushed from his neck and onto his gloved hands as the dying Govian grabbed his throat in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. His head shifted up toward his attacker and blood began painting the floor beneath him. Crinnan shook his head at the pitiful mess and quickly turned to the other Govian who was trying to hold his entrails in around the massive damage done by his partner's weapon.
"Get back, Demon!" the Govian rasped as Crinnan knelt to collect his revolvers. He walked over and looked down at the soldier. Whoever sent them was stupid; they should have known that their rookies would be slaughtered. In a way, Crinnan felt bad for the Govians for they never stood a chance.
He raised his weapon and pulled the trigger without another thought. The back of the Govian's head slammed against the floor beneath him as the bullet passed through his skull. His face turned away from Crinnan, and his body relaxed, for the Govian's life had quickly and violently ended.
Crinnan wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and looked around himself for more soldiers. He had not seen any more enter the house though he thought he recalled hearing more voices outside than there were corpses inside. He stood silently for a moment and listened, unable to catch even a hint of the voices from before. He ultimately heard nothing, and upon that realization became very concerned. Where were they?
Crinnan slowly stepped backward past the ruined table and toward the couple of stairs that went up to the raised level he had come from earlier that morning. His eyes kept moving from left to right as he kept watch over the holes that had been blasted into the house. As he slowly eased his way up the steps and retreated further into the house, he saw something pass by the hole on the left. He focused his attention on the opening and aimed one of his revolvers toward it. Amid his focus, he heard the sound of movement from the hole on the right. Quickly he raised the pistol in his right hand.
"I should say…" Sage drolly commented as he suddenly and nonchalantly appeared from the hole, "My home truly has seen better days." Crinnan gritted his teeth at the sight of the Elf and adjusted his aim. Sage had betrayed his trust, and he was going to pay for it. It took no less than a second for him to set his sights on Sage's head, and before the illustrious Elf could utter another flamboyantly orchestrated word, he pulled the trigger.
Crinnan watched in disbelief as the bullet whizzed past Sage, striking what was left of the wall behind him instead. Crinnan's aim had been perfect; his sights were set precisely on where the bullet had hit the wall. Yet Sage's head was just to the left of where it had been less than a second before. Crinnan quickly adjusted his aim and fired again, yielding the same results. Once more, Crinnan fired his weapon and missed. By then, Sage was no more than six feet in front of him. That was when he realized it was not his aim that was off; it was that Sage was somehow phasing out of the way of his bullets. Crinnan shook his head and lowered his weapons.
"So kill me then," Crinnan snarled as he walked toward the Elf, "Be done with it. That's clearly what you wanted!"
Sage rolled his eyes in response, his head bobbed a bit as he did, yet he said nothing. Crinnan looked at the Elf feeling almost embarrassed and returned his silence. For a moment the two quietly stared at each other. Crinnan, with his arms hanging at their sides, could no longer contain himself. He dropped the revolver in his right hand, balled his fist and threw it at Sage.
Crinnan tumbled forward, having put his weight into the punch, and crashed into the ground. Sage, who had once again evaded Crinnan's attack, turned and stared down at the boy with a look of pity.
"Oh, stand up," Sage ordered as he extended his hand toward the Black Knight, "I understand your confusion." Crinnan batted Sage's hand away with his own and helped himself up. He angrily dusted his shirt off and the two locked eyes again. Crinnan's eyes were aflame with anger. In contrast, Sage's were cool and complacent. Neither spoke, but Sage picked up a chair that had not broken and took a seat in it. He folded his hands on his lap and took a breath.
"Since you are saying nothing," Sage spoke calmly, almost in a soothing manner, "Then I should say that I would like to go ahead and explain some things to you." He lifted his hand from his lap and extended his arm. He kept his fist open with his palm facing the roof. Crinnan watched the Elf, unsure of what was about to happen and whether he should stay or run.
"Observe," Sage demanded. Crinnan watched as a small white sphere of light appeared out of the air slightly above Sage's palm and burst into flame. The sphere slowly spun like a globe as the fire changed from orange to blue and then back to orange again. Sage stared at it with an unimpressed look, but Crinnan's eyes grew a little wider. He took a step backward, fearful of what he saw.
"This is but a small splinter of a piece of a sliver of the power of the NaNe," Sage closed his hand around the ball of flame. The fire squeezed through the cracks between his fingers and dissipated above him leaving nothing more than empty air in its wake. Sage flicked his wrist and returned his hand to his lap. Crinnan looked down at Sage's closed fist and then, without moving his head, shifted his eyes up toward Sage.
"An Ancient power," Sage told him carefully, "Knowledge passed down through the years, through the generations," He returned Crinnan's gaze, "This power moved my body before your bullets, or your fist could strike me."
"Are you with Govia?" Crinnan found himself fearfully blurting. He was desperate to know if Sage truly was his enemy as he felt fearful, though amazed, of the Elf's power.
He had of course seen the magic before, harnessed by Govia's battle mages and by a few members of his squad. What he had seen before meeting Sage was chaotic, uncontrolled blasts hurled in the direction of its target or invisible healing magic conducted by a Faire, who up to that point in Crinnan's experience seemed to be the only race of people capable of it. He had never before seen anyone manipulating or controlling the magic with any major degree of mastery, or anyone capable of dodging bullets with the magic as Sage had done.
Sage cocked his head to one side and snorted at Crinnan's questioning of his allegiance. He poked the inner side of his cheek with his tongue and briefly wrinkled up his face. With a sigh, he looked at the half-blood before him.
"Follow me," Sage beckoned as he stood to his feet. He glided past Crinnan as he made his way past the dead Govians and toward the blasted out doorway at the front of the house. Crinnan watched the Elf for a moment and could do no more than collect his dropped revolver and follow.
As the two stepped out into daylight, Crinnan could not help but shield his eyes from the brightness of the twin suns. The Brothers seemed brighter and warmer than usual, and the entirety of their beams appeared to be focused solely on Crinnan's eyes. The light felt like it was burning through his skull and he was tempted just to turn around and walk back inside. As his vision began to adapt to the light, however, Crinnan immediately realized that it was not the Brother's power that he had to worry about.
Before him scattered across the surprisingly lush lawn were the smoldering remains of the rest of the attacking Govian squad. All appeared to be dead. They were all burnt to some degree, some more so than others. Crinnan looked down at the body nearest to the wooden deck and noticed that a large chunk of the left side of his chest had been scorched to ash. He had no arm, no shoulder, and his neck was only half there. Crinnan knelt for a better look.
"You did this?" Crinnan whispered as he looked back and forth from the body to Sage. Sage bit one of the rings in his lip, and slowly nodded his head. Crinnan shook his head and returned his gaze to the soldier. Sage's magic had been powerful enough to melt completely through the left side of the Govian's metal helmet as well as his skin and flesh. Only charred black bone remained. Crinnan imagined that if he touched it would collapse into ash like the rest of him. He stood to his feet and looked to the Elf.
"You killed… all of them?" Crinnan was bewildered as he surveyed the handful of smoking bodies on the lawn. Again, Sage silently nodded.
"All but one I should say," Sag
e remembered and held up a finger. He turned his eyes toward the treeline which led into the dense Belhaasi Weald. Crinnan looked and saw half a body that had propped itself up against a tree. He stepped forward, cracking his knuckles and walked.
From behind the visor of his helmet, the Govian soldier complacently watched as the Black Knight walked toward him. He was terrified, not of the Black Knight, but of the Elf who had destroyed him. His eyes looked down at where his legs should have been but saw only the blackened ground beneath what was once his lower half. He looked at where his hands should be, but they were gone, burnt completely off of his arms. All that remained was his torso and upper arms.
As the Black Knight approached the Govian could hear him snorting like a bull that was preparing to charge. He remained unafraid, however. He knew the Black Knight could do him no more harm than the Elf had, and prayed to his beloved Dura'Ana that the knight take him from his misery and send him to paradise.
Crinnan stopped before the Govian and looked down at him. There was pity in his angry eyes, but not enough to comfort him. The knight reached out and slapped the unbuckled helmet off of his head, and the Govian groaned and darted his eyes upward.
"Why have you come?" Crinnan demanded as he reached his arms out and planted a hand on each side of the Govian's head. He squeezed the head between his hands so that their gazes met. The Govian, clinging to life by only a thread, breathed slowly and occasionally choked on the blood that kept creeping up his throat.
"Orders, Demon," the Govian spat a glob of blood and mucus onto the ground, "We came for you... for everything you've done.." His voice was weak and angry.
"Why?" Crinnan asked, "What do you want with me?"
"We want with you what the rest of the world wants," he coughed, and more blood burst from his lips, "We want answers." He choked again, and as he breathed heavy but weak breaths, he rested his head against the tree behind him. Crinnan looked back at Sage, and then to the Govian again.
The Black Knight Box Set Page 7
