Dark Age

by Felix O. Hartmann

  “She awaits us in the Inquisitor’s chambers. We will pick them up and seek refuge in the safe-room.”

  “Why hide in a safe-room?” I said, “We need to do something!”

  “Sooner or later the people will break through the prison into the mansion or make it into the Merchant District. The best we can do now is to hide out and wait for the temper to simmer down.”

  After a few turns, we burst into the chamber. Cecilia stood aside the bed, crying uncontrollably. The moment she saw me, she fell into my arms. Her whole body was trembling in fear. I held her, watching the violent chaos outside. There was no going back now… At least nothing would ever be the same.

  “We need to leave,” Anthony ordered. “All of you!”

  Without a response the Inquisitor sat abject in his bed. Blankly he stared out the window.

  “Cecilia help me take him,” Anthony said.

  “I am going nowhere,” the Inquisitor said in a low solemn tone. “Leave me here. Let them have what they came for, so that they may leave this city in one piece.”

  Cecilia dug her nails into my shoulder at the thought of leaving him behind. Her sobbing grew louder.

  Anthony clenched his teeth, “We need to leave. Right now!”

  Cecilia ran to the door, but I let go of her hand. With panic she turned around.

  “I will be right behind you,” I said, “there is something I have to ask your uncle.”

  “Don’t be a fool Adam,” Anthony hissed and stepped out the door, “Be quick, don’t make me come back for you.”

  They rushed out and the door fell shut.

  It was me and the Inquisitor. His weak yet piercing eyes were directed upon me, “Ask your question, son.”

  “I am not your son,” I hissed. “You act like the father of us all, yet you are the most dismissive parent.”

  “Don’t taunt me boy, I am dying.”

  “How can you die?” I said. “That is my question. I know that you founded your rule on lies. You never were part of the Global Resistance. You were an Aristocrat. You are an immortal.”

  “That is what they told us,” he said. “Old it made me, but immortal? I don’t think man will ever replicate the power of the gods. Till now science had been my guardian angel, but even that has turned its back on me.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead, “Scientists, leaders, common men, the one virtue we all share are lies. They unite us along with our basic greed. Lies and greed are the most human traits there are, don’t you agree?”

  “No, I don’t,” I snapped at him. “You are nothing but a narcissistic old fool. You think your old age makes you wise, but you are so wrong… so wrong about everything. There is good in men, but you breed evil with all you do. Today I might die, but for once I can rest in peace. I can finally rest in peace because I know that if I die, you will die with me. And if there is this heaven you preach about, I will surely go there. But you may burn in hell.”

  I reached for the door knob. Before I could leave, his wrinkled weak hand grabbed my wrist.

  “Why do you hate me?” asked the Inquisitor, as he lay dying.

  Screams of citizens penetrated the thick windows of the mansion, their voices burning in my head like the flames consuming their houses in the distance. The protest began to swell on the streets, as it did in my heart.

  “How could I not?” I responded in spite. “After all you’ve done? The lies, the deceit… the murder you’ve brought upon me and this entire city.”

  “You don’t understand,” he said, smiling as if humoring a fool.

  I pointed outside to the wild masses trying to break their way into the mansion. Bloody swords and pale faces filled the square. “Don’t you see where you got us? Where is this God you always talked about? He is nothing but a lie!”

  He wiped the sweat off his wrinkled forehead. “Hope, Adam, hope,” he paused, staring out the window into the city from the safety of his bed. His eyes were searching for some hope of his own. “Give the people something to live for … give them a God and you give them a purpose. It might be a lie, but is it evil?” Bewildered, he observed me. “How can you scorn me for giving the people something that gives them hope, motivation … even happiness? There are many things you don’t know, Adam.” His eyes sought the mirror at the door of the wardrobe, while his voice was tainted with resignation, “You must become your enemy to truly understand him. I am not asking for forgiveness, but I want you to understand me.”

  “Understand you?” I snapped. “You lie there in your bed dying, ignorant of all the pain you have caused. You have not seen the horrors I have seen. You have not felt the anguish I have felt.”

  Incensed, I turned my back on him, unable to look at him any longer. I grabbed a golden plate resting on a table close to his bed. “Was it all for this? Riches? Power? Comfort?” Before he had a chance to respond, I slammed my hand across the table, sweeping the goblets, plates, and bowls to the floor. A plate spun atop the marble, and when it came to rest, I found myself gazing into my own distorted reflection. “The golden age you promised was never meant for us. It was all for you. Just for you.”

  A low chuckle fell from the old man’s pale lips. “There is no golden age, Adam. There never was. We are in a Dark Age. Darker than the abyss of the darkest night.” His voice grew sterner. “But why frighten the people with such truths? The moment we accept our demise, it becomes our own reality.” A painful cough rattled his throat. He blocked it with his hand, now crimson as it dropped beside him. Pensively, he looked at the bright stain across his palm. “You are right. If I want you to understand me, I need to understand you first.” His breaths were heavy. He opened his mouth as if to say something, only to shut it. With weak eyes, he looked at me, reconsidering a thought. “Tell me your story,” he said at last.

  But now was not the time for storytelling. The noise outside rose, drawing my eyes back to the window. The mob in front of the mansion had grown bigger and wilder. Their bodies clashed and kicked against the thick metal door barring them from the prison. Once inside, only one more barrier needed to be broken through to enter. Then, they could find and kill us all.

  Hesitant, I looked at him again.

  “Take it as the last wish of a dying man,” the Inquisitor said calmly. “It will take them a long time to find their way up here.”

  Part of me wanted to run. Part of me wanted to stay. At last I pulled up a chair and sat down next to him, “it all started the night of my seventeenth birthday… The night I realized that you and your rules were all that stood in between me and the girl I loved. I knew you had to die.”

  Epilogue

  “And here we are,” the Inquisitor said in slow breaths as I concluded my story.

  Quietly I got up from my chair and walked towards the window. The violence carried on as the fire spread further into the Industrial District. Some groups still fought in the streets, but most conglomerated in the square, unknowing of what was next. To the West I caught a glimpse of the Mount, standing so peaceful and undisturbed above all the violence.

  “Do you regret not having pushed that dagger through my back?”

  “I think I do,” I responded uncertain of my true opinion, “I often think of that night and wonder what would have happened… How things could have been different.”

  “Intriguing isn’t it… history lying in between one’s fingertips. And over and over one asks himself: What if?” His eyes drifted off into empty space, gazing into some faint old memory.

  “Anyway,” he said clearing his head and focusing back on me, “You were always a pensive child, yet so naïve. You might not think it, but compared to everyone else you had a mostly peaceful childhood. When you just told me of the nights you spent on ‘the Mount’, classes with Cecilia, or even the break-in, you smiled. There was so much more happiness and hope in you back then. Now when I look into your eyes I see only darkness. It is as if the haunting images that plague your mind, can be seen in the dark of your eyes.”

 
“Isn’t that what they say about the Grey Guard? We kill and suffer until that last grain of hope and joy is wiped from our eyes. There is a reason for everything, old man,” I responded coldly. “Life is like riding a ship into the storm. For every wave you take up, you have to drop just as deep. For all those happy moments, I was scarred with an equally painful memory.” With a loud thud the mob broke down the door of the prison underneath the mansion. “I was naïve indeed,” I went on, “not in my wildest dreams could I have imagined the years that lay ahead of me.”

  “You suffered, lost friends, and lost hope. You went through what everyone else went through,” the Inquisitor tried to explain to me with his former didactic tone.

  “I suppose you are right,” I admitted thinking about my years in the Guard, “but deep inside I never gave up all hope. The thought of returning and bringing forth your fall gave me a purpose.”

  “But why did you want me to fall? Why was my demise such an obsession of yours?”

  “Blame. I blamed you for all my shortcomings, I blamed you for all the limitations life gave me, and I blamed you for every friend and loved one that died.” I took a long deep breath and looked away from him, “It just always seemed easier to make you the face of evil than to accept my own mistakes.”

  An inconspicuous yet confident smile conquered his face. He relished my admission of fault for a moment, but quickly sought more, “But tell me one more thing, Adam. Why did you seek the past? What did you intend to find?”

  “I was searching for the same thing you are searching for in my past: Answers. I did not just want to fight the demons that haunted our city outside the gates. I wanted to escape them, and in my heart I knew that there was such a possibility.” I raised my voice at him consumed by anger, “And I knew that you would do everything in your power to maintain the ignorant bliss that you spread through your constant celebrations of seventeen year olds. You kept the people just content enough to not ask questions.”

  The Inquisitor was quiet. He knew I was right, but was not ready to admit it.

  “Why the secrecy? Why did you want no one to know about the Underground Empire, the world before 2050, and the Gate Watchers.”

  “Knowledge is power Adam. The moment the masses acquire this power, control fades. And when control fades, chaos erupts.” He pointed to the havoc that was raging outside in the city, “You know as well as I do that I am not to blame for this. You and your stubbornness, planted the seed of rebellion. And it grew beyond you. We need a miracle now or this city is lost.”

  “All these years, this has been your alibi? Keeping the people safe?” I asked incredulously.

  “Have I not kept them safe? Over a century ago I formed this city with my own hands, Adam. I am the oldest and longest lasting ruler this world has ever seen; from Caesar down to Napoleon. The reason we have lived this long was that we were content with our situation. I never ventured for the greedy mission to expand our city to make it an empire. My brother Alexander did, losing all his power in the process. Power is like a house of cards. If you leave it alone it will stand forever. But if you try to build it higher and higher, sooner or later it is bound to collapse. All I did was control the cards, making sure that no other man could build his own tower. It made mine the largest in this valley. Maybe beyond the valley there is a greater ruler, but that never mattered to me. All there is and has ever been for me was this valley.”

  “Then why didn’t you seek peace with the villagers?”

  “I tried Adam, I tried. Many times I was close to creating peace, but each time something went wrong. Villagers set traps for the guards, to pay back for the raping of their women, while guards killed villagers that had murdered their friends, claiming they mistook them for game in the woods. Too much blood had already been shed for a fresh start. I learned that there would never be a clean slate, so I made the best of it. I united my men under the banner of the Grey Guard. The savages were the common enemy of the people, and I was their leader and protector. After years I realized that the unison and faith created by the hatred for the savages was far greater than the few lives that were lost out in the woods. It was a high price to pay, but it all went towards the stability of the city.”

  “We are all just pawns in your game of chess,” I looked at him with disgust. “The savages are of such a benefit, that you never even ventured to destroy them completely. You kept them weak enough to not cause major problems, but strong enough to keep the Guard busy.”

  The Inquisitor smiled weakly, “You learn quickly, Adam. You have the mind of a leader. Once the savages are gone there is no need for protection and all limitations disappear. People would leave the city and dissipate. In the matter of a week we would live in a ghost town, while citizens are out in the wild with no knowledge of survival. Some would seek to explore what lies beyond the valley falling victim to the radiation that still exists in parts of the country. In other words, men can’t handle liberty. The moment you give them too much of it, social stability falters. Once social stability falters, personal stability will decline and honest good men turn into mad lunatics in the search for power.” His eyes became glossy, “It takes time and a critical mind to see it, but I sacrificed myself for this city. I would have traded my power for a regular life any day. I wanted to live, love and die. But all I did was rule in solitude. It was my duty.”

  I almost felt pity, but it was not enough to forgive his actions.

  Voices and stomping drew me back to the present. The mob must have found their way into the mansion. Time was running out. Grabbing the cane I pushed myself up onto my crippled leg.

  “Where are you going?” the Inquisitor asked.

  “I need to leave, my time to die has not come yet,” I responded hobbling towards the door.

  “There is one more thing I must tell you,” he said. I paused with the doorknob in hand.

  His eyes were closed, his voice raspy. “Cecilia is my daughter.”

  “I knew,” I said recalling that the gate to the Underground Empire had been shut long before her birth. “But who was her mother?”

  “A common girl,” he said, “she took her life after I told her that our love may never be known of.” He was quiet, “I too have loved and lost.”

  The noise grew louder. The mob was only few stories below me, ravaging through the many rooms.

  “My time has come,” he said. “Out of all people, you are the only one to stay with me in my final moments. Even if it is the one right thing I did during my life, let me tell you that I am sorry for the wrongs I have caused you. You are right. There are good men in this world. Men like you that turn night into day and in the face of darkness know that light is near. I envy you for that.”

  His voice died off at the end of the sentence.

  The door to the chamber was ripped open. Anthony had come back for me.

  “You must come with me right now,” he urged. “They are almost here,” his eyes drifted off to the Inquisitor who lay motionlessly in his bed.

  I nodded at his troubled look. “I cannot come with you,” I said. His body tensed. “Before you object, hear me out. There is something I must do. One last time I ask you to trust me, my friend. See this as my final wish. Take the tunnels to the Temple District and notify the bishop to ring the city bell five times. I don’t know how you will do it, but I depend on you to.”

  His teeth were clenched, “One last time.” Our eyes remained glued on another, “It was good knowing you Blacksmith. I’ll see you up there.” He let go of the doorknob and vanished down the stairs.

  I knew there was only one thing I could do now. Carefully I took everything I needed and made my way out the door. On the stairs I could hear the men ruin the rooms below. Quietly I walked into the marble hall, with the golden throne at its end. With determined steps I walked inside.

  When everything was prepared, I rested on the golden throne. The room was vacant, dead and quiet. My eyes drifted off to the window, gazing into a horizon past the valley
. That moment for just a second or two an eagle passed through the air. It was the first I had ever seen.

  The bell struck once. I got onto my feet. It struck twice. Slowly I walked to the door. It struck a third time. My hands pulled open the double door. It struck a fourth time. I pulled open the red curtain. It struck a fifth time, and I spread my arms.

  I was the Inquisitor.

  Thank you for Reading Dark Age!

  What will happen next?

  Leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads and contact me to find out!

  Connect with me via:

  Web: Felix-Hartmann.com and DarkAgeBook.com

  Facebook: fb.me/felixohartmann and fb.me/DarkAgeBook

  Twitter: @felixohartmann and @DarkAgeBook

  Instagram: @felix_hartmann and @DarkAgeBook

  …Till Day Break…

  About the Author

  Felix Oliver Hartmann was born in Germany in the mid-nineties and immigrated to the United States in 2008. At just 21, he is a student of political science, full time startup entrepreneur, experienced financial trader, and now published author. Since early years, Hartmann has had an affinity for writing, which came to fruition when completing his first novel, Dark Age.

  Dark Age brings together many of Hartmann’s influences, from his interests in Artificial Intelligence and tech, over his love for political theory and philosophy, to his childhood hometown that is reminiscent of the dark ages. Hartmann continues to pursue a vast variety of genre-crossing writing projects that are set to be released throughout 2017 and 2018.

  Copyright © 2016 Felix O. Hartmann

  All rights reserved.

  Published by Hartmann Publishing 2016

  Boca Raton, FL, USA

  No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.