Clive tapped the flat of the ax blade with a big index finger and whistled. He looked like he'd just been handed an autograph from some famous celebrity. He chuckled to himself, “I will give it more blood.”
A thinner man, who Elijah recognized as Torsten, was looking over an old bow.
“That bow was once used by a mounted archer who helped Genghis Khan conquer so much of the world. When an arrow is fired from that bow, it always finds a way to hit its intended target.”
There were many enforcers in the Order of the Black Sun that were skilled as assassins, but Torsten was the undisputed master of killing quietly. He had poisoned the most cautious and paranoid of politicians. He could use a sniper rifle to put a bullet through a target's head from across an entire city. If you needed something done silently, Torsten was the best one for the job.
Pairing him with Clive was an interesting decision, Elijah thought. One was a lumbering oaf, and the other was a quiet snake. Maybe Clive would be a good distraction for Torsten to use.
The third man, Vincent, might have been the key, though.
Vincent was well-liked and respected by everyone within the Order of the Black Sun. He was the full package; intelligent, cunning, skilled in all forms of interrogation and combat, and above all else, was extremely charming. He was the perfect killer. Before Julian overthrew the old council, many thought Vincent would one day take charge of the order. Even still, some whispered their hopes that he would supplant Julian. But those whispers were few and far between, and Vincent was a loyal individual. It's part of what made him so popular.
Elijah had a lot of disdain for most of the Order of the Black Sun. They didn't appreciate him or respect his work. But even he had some semblance of respect for Vincent. It was hard not to. He was an easy man to like.
With Vincent's leadership, the trio would probably be highly effective, despite Clive and Torsten seeming to be on opposite ends of the spectrum. He would make use of both of their talents and balance them out perfectly.
Most importantly for Vincent, this assignment was going to be personal.
Victor was Vincent's older brother—and now Vincent had a chance to avenge him.
While Clive gawked over the powerful Viking ax in his hand, and Torsen ogled over the bow that Elijah recognized as once belonging to a member of the Huns, Vincent instead looked at a katana.
“And this one, Elijah?” Vincent asked, drawing the katana from its sheath. “What makes this one so special?”
“That sword had been bathed in waters from Mt. Fuji centuries ago. The water blessed that sword so that it can cut through just about anything...including other blades. Shatters them on impact.”
“And would it shatter that cursed sword that killed my brother?” Vincent asked pointedly, his mind obviously thinking about cutting through David Purdue.
“I am not sure,” Elijah said honestly. “I've never tried it.” He wasn't one for damaging his relics, and the thought of two of the artifacts smashing against each other and potentially breaking the other made him feel a bit sick.
“The three of you need to succeed where Victor failed,” Julian said sternly. “David Purdue needs to be dealt with with the utmost severity. Whatever you need to do to make sure he's dead, do it. No quarter and all of that...”
The trio of killers looked thankful for the permission and excited by the prospect. They usually had to restrain themselves at least a little, but now, they could take advantage of their skills however they saw fit.
“We'll make sure he's not breathing,” Vincent said. “Just like he did to Victor.”
“Just be cautious of his sword,” Julian warned. “Don't go picking it up, and if you do, don't lose it like your brother did.”
“I won't go near that damn thing,” Torsten muttered, pulling back his bow string.
“None of these have any curses like that, do they?” Vincent asked, suddenly looking a bit nervous to be holding the sword in his hand. “Nothing to worry about?”
“No,” Elijah said. “The Scarlet Sword gives its wielder so much power because of that cost. While your weapons aren't quite as blessed as that blade, you won't have to worry about any negative side effects.”
“Good,” Vincent said. “We'll get this done, but these weapons aren't exactly going to make us inconspicuous. He'll know to run if he sees Clive here walking down the street with a battle ax.”
“I'm sure you'll get creative,” Julian said with a smile. “You will need all the help you can get disarming Mr. Purdue.”
“Just bring back all of the items undamaged,” Elijah said, trying not to sound like he was giving orders. He handed them the large pair of pliers that had been used to initially bring the Scarlet Sword. “And if you can, retrieve the Scarlet Sword too. Just do it without touching it directly if possible.”
None of them looked thrilled, and Elijah expected none of them would even try. It wasn't worth the risk to them. They didn't care how valuable that sword was or how important it was to Elijah that it be returned to its proper storage. They just cared about the kill and not dying themselves.
Julian put a hand on Elijah's shoulder and stepped forward, physically reminding everyone of who was in charge and what his goal was. “Just make sure David Purdue is dead. Even if you have to cut him into tiny pieces. I want this mistake rectified. All of this put an end to so we can move on. That's the only thing that matters.”
They all nodded with their newly acquired weapons, looking ready to test them out on an opponent. Elijah watched as the others left, and he remained alone in the vault with the rest of the artifacts that had been on display. The collection he tended to and cared so much for had just lost three more artifacts. If this little war of Julian's kept up, soon they would have nothing left.
Elijah hated the thought of that.
6
CHAPTER SIX – THE HISTORY OF ELIJAH DANE
Nina had actually enjoyed her brief time as a prisoner when she was helping Elijah Dane in the deep vault. It hadn't been a voluntary task. but it was far better than rotting away in a cell all day. Unlike most of the Black Sun members she met, he had seemed like he actually appreciated the history behind the items the order was collecting. It had been nice to have someone to really talk to, rather than just listen to Julian or Galen's gloats about her captivity. Unfortunately, that all went away the night Nina tried to escape from the Black Sun's base. Elijah had played an instrumental part in alerting the others about the attempt. She didn't know why Elijah bothered to keep visiting her after he ratted her out like he had. Her only guess was that he liked having someone to talk about history with too. But any sort of respect she had built for him had evaporated, and she had no desire to have any more of their chats.
As a consequence of the escape attempt, she was no longer allowed to leave her cell in the Black Sun's dungeon. She was relegated to near complete isolation, and it was slowly chipping away her morale. The only thing that was keeping her going now was the brief confrontation she had with Julian about Purdue's survival.
“Is it really true?” Nina asked.
Elijah adjusted his glasses, but the eyes behind the lenses avoided Nina's gaze. “What?”
It wasn't very convincing and was almost enough confirmation on its own. Almost. She needed to hear him say it. She needed someone to because once it was spoken aloud, it would be so much more real, and she needed it to be real.
“Purdue's alive, isn't he?”
Elijah didn't look at her. He didn't acknowledge the question. “Do you ever get tired of rotting down here? You should never have tried that half-baked escape plan of yours. It was always doomed to fail. If you had just accepted your position, you could still be helping me in the deep vault instead of being stuck behind bars. I know it wasn't ideal, but it was better than this, wasn't it?”
“It doesn't matter what was better,” Nina said defiantly. “I am a prisoner either way.”
“Yes...” Elijah said uncomfortably. “Yes, I suppose
you are.”
“Is he alive?” she repeated, trying to bring her initial question back into the conversation. She wasn't going to just let him brush it aside without giving her any real answers.
Elijah wiped off his glasses with his shirt. “Might I ask, why do you think that?”
“Because Julian sure made it sound like it. The only reason he would have to be that upset...to the point where he came down and questioned me...is if Purdue was still kicking. Only Purdue could make someone that upset. Trust me. It's a talent of his.”
Elijah continued to absentmindedly scrub the lens of his spectacles. “What a self-centered perspective. Seven billion people in the world and you think the only person who it could possibly be is your dead friend. Sad.” Elijah put his glasses back on and shrugged. “But to answer your question—yes. David Purdue did indeed survive.”
Nina finally had confirmation. Purdue was really still out there and was still just as much of a pain in the Order of the Black Sun's collective ass as he had always been. That man refused to lose, and she'd never been more appreciative of his tenacity. Usually she found it so obnoxious, but now it meant the world to her. It was far more hopeful than it was annoying. It seemed impossible that he survived that fire, but Purdue had pulled off the impossible before—just never to this extent.
“You know what that means, right?” Nina asked.
Elijah raised an inquisitive brow. “Should I? Enlighten me.”
“That you and the Order of the Black Sun...you're all going to lose. We're going to beat you just like we always have.”
“Always, hm? Last I checked, you are a prisoner, and Purdue almost died. You failed to beat us. Like it or not, you should accept that you've already lost. Purdue may have survived, but if Julian's plans follow through, it won't be for much longer anyway.” Elijah gave a bored sigh. “This whole feud has been tiresome. Julian Corvus wins. David Purdue wins. It doesn't matter as long as I am left to my work. The billionaires and the secret societies can fight over who finds what, as long as those treasures they want so bad are kept safe. And the only one who really truly cares about that is me.”
“You're not the only one,” Nina said. As a historian, she had her own reverence for the ancient artifacts.
Elijah snickered, shaking his head. “The only one that matters. The only one not rotting away in a dungeon.”
“You really have no preference for how this turns out?”
No,” Elijah said. “It really makes no difference to me. History won't care about who was good and who was bad.”
“And history's opinion is the only opinion you care about.”
Elijah nodded. “It should be the only opinion anyone cares about. All of that nonsense about morality, about right and wrong. It's all a construct. History remembers deeds, not people. History remembers action, not motivations. We're all just names in the eyes of history.”
“Believing that must make it easy to work with the bad guys.”
Elijah managed a thin smile. “It does. They leave me to my work, and it's an honor to even just see most of the things in that vault. Like I said, there are no bad guys. There is just history and what's important to history. Those relics are the only thing about the Order of the Black Sun that matters.”
“But you don't mind Julian and his thugs using them? Loaning out priceless artifacts for them to use however they want? Aren't you supposed to be taking care of them? Protecting the artifacts? It sure doesn't seem like you're doing a great job.”
Elijah twitched, and she knew that she struck a nerve. He adjusted his glasses and shook his head. “If you think David Purdue is going to come break you out of here...I wouldn't count on it. He won't make it this far. The people Julian sent after him are well armed.”
“Yes, with the relics you handed over to them. Hopefully they don't damage them too much. It will be your fault if they do.” Elijah pursed his lips, trying to bite back on very visible anger. He took pride in his work and clearly hated having all of his efforts being mocked. Or maybe it was more than that. Maybe he couldn't really deny that she was wrong about it. He turned away to leave, but Nina wasn't done. “I will be getting out of here one way or another. Purdue will find a way to win like he always does. I won't be stuck as a prisoner of the Black Sun...like you.”
“You remember that conversation then?” Elijah asked, looking uncomfortable talking about it. “Then you should realize just how futile it is to fight against them.”
“No,” Nina said. “Because unlike you, I'm not going to just accept this. I'm not going to go from prisoner to slave or whatever it is you are now.”
“I didn't accept it at first either...but we'll just have to wait and see how this turns out, won't we?”
Elijah turned away to leave, but Nina spoke up again. “How could you join them? You said it was by your own free will, but how? Why choose this?”
Elijah straightened his glasses. “You really want to know?”
“Y-yes.”
“Very well, then.”
Elijah pulled up one of the guard chairs and placed it in front of the cell, and slowly began telling her his story.
Elijah Dane always loved history. His whole life, he'd loved hearing the story of the world and all of the real-life characters that made it what it was. He loved hearing about the ripple effects decisions had that would be remembered for thousands of years. He loved hearing about rises and falls, and all of the chaos in between. He loved memorizing dates and names, so he knew how things happened and when. The world around him was ever changing and full of questions, but history was nothing but answers. Sometimes you had to connect the dots here and there, but things that happened in the past were set in stone, yet had such a profound impact on the present.
While others obsessed over languages and sciences, he couldn't care less about them. They were just factors into what would one day become history. If a scientist created something innovative, it could change the world, but none of that mattered if you didn't remember when it happened and who made it. History was the culmination of everything, and he wanted to know everything.
Elijah spent his youth obsessing over dates, portraits, and firsthand accounts of the world of the past. He could lose himself in a museum for days, wanting to absorb each and every thing he saw like a sponge. Knowing that the displays were things from hundreds of years ago fascinated him. To think that an everyday item could become a priceless artifact...it was sort of beautiful in a way. It meant everything in the world could have value someday. It could all tell a story or be evidence of a forgotten civilization.
Only time would tell...and that's what Elijah loved.
History was being made every day; they just didn't know it yet.
It was that reverence and respect of history that carried him to the top of his class throughout his life. He cast aside friendships and other distractions to imbue himself with so much knowledge of the past that he was practically a walking, talking, breathing textbook.
By age twenty, he could contend with the oldest and most well-read historians in the world. Sure, it had completely consumed any hope of a personal life, but he didn't really care. As far as he was concerned, his life's purpose was to be a preserver. It was his responsibility to make sure that history wasn't forgotten, and that it was respected.
Unfortunately, the impressive speed by which he learned so much and made a name for himself was exactly what drew the Order of the Black Sun to him. They needed people like him, who knew the importance of the artifacts they would find. When they came knocking at his door, it seemed like a good thing at the time. The Order of the Black Sun was a group of elite figures from all over the world that unearthed lost relics that no one else could find. That could have been a wonderful thing to be a part of.
However, Elijah quickly learned that it wasn't so much an invitation, as an involuntary draft. Despite his other work he was busy with at the time, they weren't going to take no for an answer. They plucked him from his home, boun
d his hands, and blindfolded him. He woke up as a prisoner in their facility, speaking with higher ups in the order. Some were more reasonable like the old council leaders, while others like Julian Corvus scared him.
They wanted him to work with them, and while he had been sort of interested to start, he wanted nothing more than to be released. The terms of his release depended on his acceptance of their invitation. He resisted, but they were adamant that he would do well within the Black Sun. While many of their members had to travel the world, infiltrate positions of powers, or even get involved in war zones, he wouldn't have to do that. His work would strictly be the study and preservation of the artifacts they collected.
Elijah, again, politely declined.
It was only sometime after—once he had spent weeks in a smelly cell—that they brought him to see the deep vaults. It was the most impressive thing Elijah had ever seen. The amount of artifacts they had collected was more than any museum could ever have; and they weren't just rusted spoons or old mirrors or faded clothing. These items were the kinds of things that had turned into fables and myths. They weren't just historical; they were legendary.
As they showed him each and every prize they had in their collection, Elijah imagined having them under his care. He would be in charge of making sure they were always protected and never fell into the wrong hands. For the first time in his life, he wasn't just an observer of history, but a protector of it. He could ensure that these items were never lost to time and that they would be remembered.
It was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Despite his treatment and despite the manner of his recruitment, he couldn't let this chance slip away. He may have been working for a secret society of megalomaniacs, but they were the only ones that would allow him to have so much influence on history. They were the only ones who could provide him with these types of artifacts. It didn't matter if they were the worst people on the planet. History would determine that, not him.
Order of the Black Sun Box Set 10 Page 23
