A Crimson Tale

by K. L. O Johnson

  I move to the blood stained staircase and stop, the light from the window, reveals walls streaked in blood, char and ash where burnt bodies hung around, idly. The scorch marks were stained in strips along the pale walls, the window I stand beside, bathes in yellow and brown of glass is evidently shattered and broken. There is something wrong, with this sight, I conclude. Hearing the sound of the same footsteps pulls me back to reality where I rush up the stairs and come to a wide hall.

  Bodies are everywhere and I pull out my knives. I scan the hall for sign of any movement. There a figure moves across the doorway at the end of the hall, impassive as a painting. I move towards it, nothing odd seemed to radiate from it, no demonic presence, no spiritual entitlement, nothing. Stepping past and around the several bodies that lay at my feet. I notice now, there are the same streaks in the hall, in the visible rooms from the previous staircase, I had ascended. The sight of it is strange, feeling almost disorientated, I force my sight back to the room where I approach only to hear heavy footsteps. I turn to face it. “Lifet?”

  “I’m proud to know. You remember me.” he teases with sincerity in his eyes, I move my hand to where my knives sit clipped around my narrow waist. He holds up his hands as he approaches me. “I mean you no harm, I’m merely here for the same reason you are.” he utters. I regard him suspiciously before, dropping my hand and turning from him.

  “What reason is that?”

  “The Blood Brethren,” I stop walking towards the far room and glance at him from over my shoulder. A twinkling look glasses his eyes and he seems to be entranced in a game of cat and mouse that I don’t feel like playing.

  “How do you know of the ‘Blood Brethren’?” I ask.

  “I’m an Assassin it’s my job to know, may I?” he questions as he moves past me, gesturing for himself to walk on ahead, I nod, if he is going to be killed first why not? I still don’t trust him but with everything that’s going on, who can I trust?

  “What did you mean when you said: “Varden was your target”?”

  “He was and still is the person I’ve been sent to kill; I’m just putting that on hold for now.” he admits as he leads the way, we enter the empty room and I stare at it confused. Didn’t I see someone walk past? I’m sure I did, I try and consult myself. I don’t like the idea that odd things are happening more frequently, now.

  “Than what about the package, isn’t that what you were after?” I ask.

  “I still am.” he retorts and I glare, he returns my gaze firmly. “The problem is though how you’re pulled into all of this is.”

  “I was merely sent on a mission nothing more.”

  “So I see.” he says and doesn’t question.

  “I can kill you now if I want.” I threaten.

  “True but you’ll kill me sooner if I inflict harm on the Courier, correct?” he deliberates and I stare at his words, it’s only been a few moments and he acts as though he knows me. Well it didn’t help I threatened him twice in two days. Why he’s here is something, I’m still questioning. He’s tricky both in skill and wit. He may be more of a formidable for than I can imagine. He stops.

  “Something’s here.” he urges and I take my stance. He’s right something is here and it’s not happy.

  “Have any idea what it is?”

  “I’m not going to wait to find out.” he says as he moves towards the chimney, snatching a white clothed item from within the fire place. “It was nice talking to you.” Like that he slips down between the wooden floorboards—the aftermath of when roves cave in, they split the floor in unlikely ways with the aid of fearsome flames. I scowl, he is evasive.

  “Kalverya…” My name echoes in my ears. I clench my teeth, holding it forcefully closed knowing that my words won’t throw off these enemies. ”Kalverya…” It coos again and I reach for my sword, the only weapon that is able to incinerate them with a single strike. This is the second of my primary weapons, my crossbow is lost has been lost to me, the moment I had lost my abilities.

  The sight of the demons is nothing but vivid yet transparent outlines, their forms are not even here. The room where I stand is, tainted blood red with black streaks; the ground under my feet is now that of mud but sullied with coagulated blood that hasn’t completely solidified. I lift my boot to see that the slime sticks to my soles. Knowing this the fight will be dirty but I’ll come out clean. If I’m careful, I won’t be injured. I tell myself. ”Kalverya…” they call once more and I pull out my Prevail.

  “Want to dance?” I mock, their forms become less translucent. I launch myself at the horde. “Let’s dance!” I slice down the first once with ease, it’s form is carved into, two, before disappearing. The hissing sound resonates all around me, their teeth bared as their weapon forged limbs taunt me. Only the Nephalem can cross through worlds, through the worlds of heaven and hell without their souls sucked dry from their bodies. I sliver the next one down, his head rolls along the earth, blades are slashed towards me and I block before spinning around, my heels knock their heads to the side where I leap and kick the same demon, a second time. It stumbles back, I run sliding along the earth I slice their legs as I slip between their supports.

  Down it falls, slowly. It is a quick rhythmic pace I dance, with the demons. Yet the adrenaline that flooded my system, heightens my senses, even the ones I suppress. Every movement they made, seemed far more slower to me than I can imagine. Taking down the next once closes to me, I plunge my blade in his torso before pulling it out and slicing his neck. I kick and slice several with my forearm blade and others with my double edged blade, their bodies disintegrate and wither away. Once, the weaker of demons were defeated, I turn my attention, to the demon clothed in black armor, its face consumed in a black helmet.

  It charges at me. Its heavy feet stomp towards me as it races towards me, its large shoulder clashes against my form and I’m sent back. My back collides with the wall of the room before I tumble through the blood stained bricks and into the street below that winds my lungs from under the impact. I roll to the side once I calmed myself; the blade of the demon is plunged into the ground where I once laid. I stand on my feet once more and eye the demon. His head tilts to the side he forces the blade from the ground with the loud C-L-A-N-G! I take my stance and circle him where he watches me like a hawk.

  He spins his blade before it clashes with mine. The sound rings through my ears as I see its black face plate glow red. It was fast. There one moment gone the next but I know what I saw. It forces me back and I step out of the way before it can manage to cut me. I step around it and glare at it. “Die already.” I mutter and shed its armor from its body with my blade before I find its weak point; I send my blade within its chest and force it to its knees. My blade slowly is consumed in a black color of gore before the body of my enemy disintegrates. The world around me returns and I find myself standing in an empty but dead street. “Bloody demons,” I curse and sheath my blade and return back to Varden.

  By the time I return, I see Mina has already opened up to Varden. Their gazes turn to me as I impede not too far from them. “Is everything all right?” he asks and I glance back at where I came from and frown.

  “Fine,” I say and the creases on his brow is evidence that he doesn’t believe my claim instead he turns to Mina and hands her a satchel of clothes that he’s probably managed to scavenge from around the homes that haven’t been completely burnt down to the ground. “She’s coming with us?” I ask.

  “Well, we can’t leave her.” We travel along the road once more, Mina sits behind Varden on his horse. Their gentle talking filters through the air at times, they laugh at something Mina whispers to Varden and I scowl. They were so secretive it annoyed me, so I didn’t speak the whole journey to the next town. The very same town, where, I was to investigate the ‘Blood Brethren’. I wonder if I’ll run into Lifet or not during this and if I did whether or not I would enjoy it.

  We arrive at my assigned town the citizen’s don’t even seem to know abou
t what had happened in the other town over. That in itself made me wonder if the town just ignored the smoke and screams of pain or if the town was brain-washed. I dismount my horse and guide it to the Inn at the end of the street filled with wagons, coaches, stalls and people. Tons and tons of people. Varden rides on his horse carefully weaving through the crowd of people who look up at us—mainly Me, I see Mina wrap her arms around his waist and I bite my inner cheek.

  “You okay?” Varden asks Mina with concern. She smiles up at him innocently.

  “I’m fine, just a little uncomfortable in crowds.” I roll my eyes. I’m uncomfortable in crowds and you don’t see me wrapping my arms around some guy for some form of support. The cretinous citizens swarm around us, nosily. I demount my horse and I trudge up the stairs to the first Inn I saw when we entered the gates. Pushing open one of the wooden doors, I enter the foyer. The glossy floorboards under my feet make my light footsteps become noticed by the Inn manager behind the large oak desk. The Inn is very well laid out, there are many chairs and wooden tables furnished throughout the foyer and I find myself before the man as he smiles at me. “Hello ma’am.”

  “Hello. Three single rooms please,” I say and he nods signing something down in the large book with his feathered plume.

  “Your numbers are on the labels. Enjoy!” he says and I nod.

  “One more thing,” I begin and he stops. He turns his brown gaze on me. “Do you have stables?” I ask, “My horses have been pushed hard these last couple of days, and they are in need of nourishment.”

  “Around the back, there’s a stable boy by the name of Malic he’ll be attending the horses.” he says and I nod making my way back to the steps of the Inn once more. I see Mina teasing Varden and I fight the urge to leave her in the streets for the night. She’s traumatized and trying to find comfort I tell myself. He means nothing to me, he’s just another courier. He’s just a pain in my neck!

  I make my way down, the steps and towards Varden and Mina. “Our rooms are ready, here.” I toss Varden the keys, who fumbles to secure them within his hands and turn away from them. “Stables are around the back.” I make my way to my room and close the door behind me and I collapse on the bed. The moment I close my eyes sleep, engulfs me, in a blissful manner.

  I listen to the song: ‘Heaven’s Fury’ that plays out in the tavern, where a woman sings with a voice of an angel in a high soprano pitch, I wasn’t much of a singer but I don’t think I could ever bring myself to be just that. Heaven’s Fury is a song sung by the general populous in representation to the royal family and the over throw of this world gluttony government. My heart wretchedly calls for adventure and action. I know that, that trait definitely came from my father who was known to be a proud warrior. Sadly, a dysfunctional family makes warriors of its children. I turn my gaze to where Mina sits; as she continues to devour her food savagely while I bring a cup of ‘Ulen’ tea to my lips. It has the similar taste of Jasmine on Earth but with a minty taste. I wouldn’t normally have teas or delicacies with mint but this one seems to calm my nerves and relax my mind. I need to leave this place and soon. I need to find Him.

  My soup is now nothing more than an empty bowl, I push it aside and a waitress comes and picks it up. “Finished?” she asks. I nod. She collects the other now empty bowls, of Mina and Varden on her wooden tray before scurrying away to attend others who have finished their meals. The smell of the various aromas fills the air and I find it so odd that no matter what world you are on, there will always be those who are suffering or tortured by the society they are trapped in. I can hear the conversations now of men and women throughout the room of their government, banks, land-lords and many other power holding bandits.

  “Did you hear, now ‘Haven’ is taking the northern lands?” complains a man in his mid-thirties. Haven the only independent government estate agency. It’s not something to be proud of. They take land that they think will benefit them and their plans the government has. Just like the military they are secretive. To a degree, Knights are secretive, but not enough that the people don’t distrust us. The Rangers are more so.

  Still, the people trust them more than their own government. The power place, Midra, the richest city in the country island of Destastrox. “I heard that Midra has taken all of the businesses on that flank of land; big or small, it didn’t matter.” comments a woman.

  “That’s not the only land they’ve taken.” says another female voice. “The Southern and Northern Peninsula of Denisova is now in the governments hands. Strangest part it’s not even in their jurisdiction.” Why would they take lands that not even their right to take? I wonder.

  I’ve heard enough. I rise from my seat, “I’ll be back later tonight.”

  “Where are you going?” asks Mina and I’m surprised. It’s the first thing she has said to me lately other than the words we exchanged when we first met.

  “To see a man about a Priest,” I say, they glance at each other with confusion and I wind my way through the crowd of people and exit the tavern, not too far from the Inn we are currently staying at. After I have sorted out this problem, Varden and I will be on our way to the Order, after we find some place for Mina to live since it is practically against the rule for me to bring people to the Order without previous permission. I enter the cool night air, the sound of the tavern is still loud in my ears but I block them out like I do everything else. Moving along the stone pavement I round several corners, passing down several narrow alleyways. Why he lives in such a maze is beyond me? I stop in front of a red painted wooden door, the light of a lantern above it shines down outlining, the bronze plate at eye height upon the door: ’Planet Enigma’.

  I knock on the door three times and wait; there’s a gentle sound of movement from the other side of the door. A bronze slot opens and I see two brown eyes staring back at me. “Kalverya?”

  “The one and only,” I comment and I hear him beam on the other side muttering something about who long it’s been since I’ve seen him and what I’ve been doing and above all how long it will be until, I settle down. His enthusiasm is the same as ever.

  “You know many women your age are married with a family.” he remarks and I give him a blank expression. The same expression he knows all too well. “Right, sorry you’re not the marrying type.” he mutters and I roll my eyes under my helmet. He stresses out the word: not. Some part of him still believes I am. Oddly enough, I have yet to tell him about Altair and Tylif’s plans for us, I just never found the right time.

  “As if I need more mouths to feed,” I retort and he opens the door after going through the many security locks that I can here click and lock out of place before I enter a tight room. He is an old man with a large brain. His inventions scatter themselves around the room. I notice there are many books piled up around the room from his hands his work on philosophy, mechanics, physics, biology, mathematics and chemistry. I gave him the titles of the books since other worlds I’ve been on have different names and it’s a little difficult to remember since I have enough languages running through my head as it is.

  “You know, apparently that’s the beauty of marriage.” he says and I scoff. He hears my little remark and decides to lecture me. “It won’t be that bad to have someone to come home to after all your crazy adventures,” he says as he glances at me from over his shoulder and I push aside a model plan hanging from the ceiling.

  “Does that include the control and abuse?” I say.

  “Maybe, maybe not,”

  “I don’t like the idea of vulnerability.” I say and he stops, turning to face me, fully.

  “No person does but I’m not the one to say what you do and don’t do with your life.” he says finally and I smirk at him, he returns the gesture. He and a few others can bring out a smirk that I don’t seem to carry like ordinary people. It’s strange how my name is in both my personality and my experiences. He above all knows that well. He returns to lead me back to his small dining room, changing the topic. “Last
time I saw you, I was a young man. How time flies yet you don’t appear as though you’ve aged.” he comments where I pull out a wooden chair and sit down. “Or have you, I can’t tell with that thing on take it off!” he orders, “You’re perfectly safe here.”

  I do as he demands and slip off my helmet; my black loosely curled hair falls down my back and around my upper form and down to my waist. “Happy now?” I quiz and he pours a cup of water for me. He looks up and stops what he does for several moments, his eyes wide before a smile pulls up at his face.

  “Much better, though you haven’t aged. I wish I had that,” he says.

  “No you don’t,” I comment. “It’s not something I like about my heritage. Seeing everyone you once knew or grew up with die around you is the worst way to live.” He returns to pouring the water in the wooden handless mug.

  “At least nobody remembers what you did.” Nobody needs to. “So how old are you now?” he asks with a risen brow and I give him a side glance. “What? Just curious.”

  “Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to ask a lady her age?” He holds up his hands in a silent surrender. I smirk.

  “Sorry.” he says and I laugh. He smiles. Placing the jug of water on the counter beside the sink where he normally cleans his food and prepares them for further meals he’ll make. He sits down at the opposite end of the table and our eyes meet for some time. I reflect on the times we had when we were travelling together at that time he was causing trouble with his inventions. I had to practically pull him out of most of the situations. Luckily, I did or he wouldn’t be here with me today. “So what brings you here?”