by Spoor, Garry
“But they were on me. Those icky dirty rats were all over me.” Emara whined.
-You're welcome-
Reginald shouted, but then Emara wouldn’t have understood him anyhow.
“Well, they’re not anymore, so if you can please try to get these shackles off, I would be eternally grateful.”
As Emara got closer, Kile was able to get a better look at the young mystic. She was about the same age, although she didn’t act it. She was slim and pale, with a round face and wild bright pink hair, the tips of which were even touched with a hint of blue.
“By the arts are you alright?” She asked as she got a closer look at Kile.
The gentle touch of the young mystic hand on her wrist seemed more painful than the steel shackles as she winced.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ll get you out of those, I promise.” Emara replied as she set her hands on the shackles and began to chant.
Something was starting to happen. She could smell the charge in the air as it engulfed her. She could feel it building in the shackles around her wrist as they started to get warmer… and warmer… and warmer.
“Hot. Hot! HOT!” Kile cried a she pulled at the shackles that were now burning her wrist but she couldn’t get her hand out of them.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Emara panicked. “That’s the wrong art.”
“No kidding.” She shouted. She didn’t really care who heard her now.
“Sorry, I sometimes get my arts confused.” Emara confessed. “Now, let me see, that was the fire sphere, this must be the metal sphere.”
Emara fell into her mystic arts again as she placed her hands upon the shackles. The smell that engulfed the room was different than before, it was more metallic in nature. Kile was never sure if the smell was a real byproduct of the magic. As far as she knew, no one else had ever mentioned that the mystic arts had any odor. She didn’t have time to ponder it as the shackle began to squeeze into her wrist.
“It’s a little tight Emara.” Kile told her, trying to remain calm.
Emara kept mumbling the words over the shackles.
“It’s getting even tighter.” Kile warned her.
Emara kept mumbling.
“I can no longer feel my fingers.”
“What? OH, I’m sorry.” Emara exclaimed as she backed away from the shackle that was now half the size that it was before and was cutting off the circulation to Kile’s fingers. She could feel her hand growing numb.
“Um… Um… Okay… ah let me see, let me try… this one.” The young mystic stammered as she set her hand back on the shackle and began to mumble a few new words. The scent of the magic changed again and this time it smelled of wet earth.
“Emara… are you using an earth art?”
“No… oh… oh yeah, I guess that was. Sorry about that.”
“Just calm down, take a deep breath and relax. I know you can do this.” Kile told her, although the burn on her wrist and her numb fingers were saying otherwise.
“I don’t know Kile. It’s just… really hard. The metal sphere is just too hard to manipulate. I was never really good at it to begin with. I can’t tell you the number of swords I ruined by turning them to dust.”
“Dust? You can turn a sword to dust?”
“Well sure, that’s easy. You just have to accelerate the rusting of the metal. Chaos spells are easier than order spells and a lot more fun.”
“Then can’t you just turn it to dust?”
“Well, yeah, of course I could, but I thought you wanted them larger so you could pull your hand out.”
“But if they were dust, I wouldn’t have to worry about that, would I?”
“Oh… no I… I guess wouldn’t, would you?”
Kile rolled her eyes, now she remembered why she never liked the mystic arts, or was it just the mystics she had problems with.
Emara set her hands back on the shackles and Kile braced herself for the worst, but the air filled with the same metallic scent as it had before as the young mystic began to mumble her words of corrosion. Within moments the retrains on Kile’s wrist were gone, and all that was left were a few flakes of rust. She could feel her fingers now as she shook out her hand, and then scratched her nose.
“You did it Emara.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
“Now try the other one.”
Sure enough, once she had gotten started, the shackles on her other wrist crumbled beneath Emara’s hands. Kile felt relieved to have the use of her hands again, not to mention being able to move once more, but that relief was short lived.
“What do you mean you didn’t go check on her?” The man’s voice echoed through the dungeon as the outer door opened again. “If you let anything happen to that girl, Ravenshadow will have your ass.”
The answer was a bit guttural, and she couldn’t understand the valrik’s reply, but it was all too obvious what they were discussing. Kile quickly stumbled to her feet, trying to regain her balance as she moved to the dark corner of the cell. The keys were jingled again, and the cell door swung open.
“Are you ready to cooperate, Miss. Lon?” The man asked as he stepped into the cell, but his attention was quickly drawn to the chains that hung empty on the far wall. “What? What’s going on here, where did she go?”
He may have been taller than she was, he was definitely stronger, but Kile had the advantage as she swept his legs out from under him the minute he turned around. The man went down hard as Kile grabbed Emara arm and pulled her out of the cell.
“I should have killed you when I had the chance.” He shouted and his hand burst into flames.
“ERIC.” Kile exclaimed.
The room lit up with a ball of fire, but before he could hurl it toward her, she pulled the cell door closed. A fiery explosion ignited on the other side as Kile backed away. Fortunately the door was thick enough to withstand the impact of Eric’s edge. Unfortunately the valrik that had unlocked the door in the first place was in the hall with Kile and Emara. He appeared startled at first to find that the prisoners were on this side of the cell door and his master was on the other.
He started to shout something in his harsh tongue that Kile could only image was going to be a cry for help, but he never got a chance as he suddenly disappeared with a flash of light, leaving behind his helmet, keys, sword and clothing.
“By the arts it worked.” Emara whispered as she stood there looking surprised.
“What did you just do?”
“I think I transported him.”
“Where?”
“I… don’t know... somewhere.”
“Without his clothes?”
“I was rushed. I don’t function very well when I’m rushed.”
Kile grabbed the Goblin’s spent clothing and began to put them on. They were little more than rags, they smelled bad and it made her skin crawl to be wearing them, but they were better than nothing.
“You’re going to wear those?” Emara asked with a note of disgust in her voice.
“Well, I’m not running around naked.” Kile replied as she grabbed the fallen sword and quickly pulled Emara to the end of the hall. It wouldn’t take Eric long before he managed to burn down the cell door and Kile wanted to be as far away from the dungeon when that happened.
She only had a vague idea of where to go next. It was just a matter of seeing thing from a rat’s point of view. Reginald had given her a very detailed layout of the stronghold just as Vesper use to do. The problem was that things looked rather different from the ground looking up.
As she got to the end of the hall she pulled open the dungeon door and found herself staring into a room filled with the uhyre, she quickly closed it again, hoping that none of them had noticed. Taking a firm grip on her sword she waited for the alarm to sound, but it never did. A loud bag and a flash of light only reminded her that Eric hadn’t given up trying to burn the cell door down yet. It was a shame that Emara couldn’t have transported him to some unknown place.
<
br /> “What’s the matter?” Emara asked.
“We can’t get out this way.” Kile told her, although she wasn’t sure of any other way to get out. Dungeons were not well known for having back doors and another flash of fire from the way they came only heightened the urgency of finding one.
Her only choice now was to give Emara a head start, and hope that the young mystic could find her own way out of the stronghold before getting recaptured. If this Ravenshadow wanted her so badly, then it was another reason for Kile to keep her from him.
She balanced the sword in her hand. It was still a clumsy weapon, not like her Lann, of course those were long gone, as with everything else she owned.
“When the fighting starts, I want you to get out, no matter what. Don’t wait for me.” She told Emara as she tightened the grip on her sword and reached for the door handle. It was the job of all Hunters to protect the civilians on any mission, and even if this wasn’t a true mission, she was still a Hunter.
She pulled open the door, but Emara slammed it shut. If the valrik on the other side didn’t know something was wrong, they knew it now.
“Emara, what are you doing?”
“There might be another way.” The young mystic told her. “Another skill… oh if I can only remember how it goes.”
A flash of fire down the end of the hall, followed by the sound of splintered wood being tossed about proved that the dungeon door wasn’t really all that study.
“Guards.”
Eric’s voice barked up the hallways as his fiery form began to move in their direction.
The door behind her flew open as one of the valrik poked its head out. It turned and looked directly at Kile with its yellow eyes piercing the darkness, it’s strange disfigured face with its oversized drooping nose and skin the color of wet stone. She gripped her sword and was about to strike it, when it suddenly looked the other way.
“Where are they? Did you find them?” Eric shouted as he came within inches of the two girls. She could feel the heat emanating from Eric’s hands, even the valrik took a step or two back.
The guard replied with some gibberish that she still couldn’t understand, but it appeared that Eric had.
“What do you mean they didn’t come this way, what other way is there?” He shouted as he struck the guard with his flaming right hand, knocking him back into the room amongst a shower of cinders. “You useless sack of flesh, find them, they couldn’t have gotten far.”
The uhyre fled the room as Eric entered. He kicked over a few chairs, knocked a pot of… probably Shrool, off the table and shattered a few pieces of crockery before heading out through one of the doors on the far side of the room. When the door closed, Kile was able to breathe again.
“What just happened?” She asked as she stepped into the now empty room. “He was just a foot from us and he didn’t see us.”
“It worked, Ha… take that Master Tallo, and he said I would never be able to master that one.” Emara said with a grin.
“What happened? What did you do?”
“Limited invisibility, its part of the air sphere. Something to do with bending vision around you. I never really understood how it worked but it’s really fun to do.”
Invisibility, she should have guessed. She had a friend back at the Academy that was able to turn himself invisible, so to speak. It was his Hunter’s edge, but it was a rather taxing endeavor and he couldn’t maintain it for long. It didn’t look as if Emara suffered any ill effects. To her it was as simple as blowing out a candle. That was the difference between Mystics and Hunters, it was all in the way they use their skills.
“How long can you keep that up?” Kile asked.
“How long do you need me to?”
“Until we can get out of here.”
The problem with the limited invisibility skill was just that, it was limited. It was like holding up a bed sheet and hiding behind it. As long as the sheet was between the mystic and whoever she was hiding from, she would appear invisible. This meant Emara had to go first, with Kile following as closely behind her as she could and hoped that nobody came up behind them. In this way they slowly navigated the dark halls of the stronghold, looking for anything that might have looked familiar from a rat’s point of view. Kile was sure she could find the way out, but once they had gotten into the twist and turns of the hallways, it was clear that she had somehow gotten turned around. Instead of finding the exit, they entered a large gallery through the second floor balcony.
The place was enormous with its huge arched ceilings and thick wooden beams. There were tapestries, banners and shields with coats of arms that she had never seen before, hanging from the rafters and mounted on the walls. Far below them were old tables and chairs that had been pushed to the side and discarded, leaving the cold marble floor bare, save for a few stray bits of debris. A raised platform with a large wooden throne was displayed on the far side of the room, and upon that throne sat a man in black robes. This must be Ravenshadow.
The tattered black robes concealed every part of his body, from his feet to his head with a large heavy hood that hung down over his face. The only parts of him that weren’t covered were his hands. Thin, bone white hands that floated in a sea of black cloth.
The two girls began to move slowly to the other side of the balcony, to the hall on the opposite end, and hopefully to the exit. Emara had to face the black robed man as they walked, with Kile between her and the wall, in order to keep the illusion of invisibility. They were half way across the balcony when the doors just below them opened, and a rather irate Eric stormed into the room. He walked across the marble floor toward the black robed man known as Ravenshadow. This was the first time that Kile was able to get a good look at the young man that had tried to kill her during their time at the Academy, and she was surprised at how little he changed, of course that was only two years ago.
He was a tall, slim man with greasy black hair that was matted to his head, narrow eyes and a sharp hawk like nose. He was dressed in dark hardened leather, wore knee high boots and a black tattered cape, not unlike the robes of Ravenshadow. All in all, he looked ridiculous, but it wasn’t what he looked like that surprised her, it was what he did next. He knelt before the dark robed man as a servant would before his king.
“My Lord, I fear that the prisoners have escaped.”
“Escaped?”
There was no anger in Ravenshadow’s voice, or surprise. It was almost as if he had expected the events to happen.
“Yes my lord.”
“And how did they manage to do this?” He asked calmly.
“I’m not entirely sure my lord. All I know is that the Mystic must have somehow rusted the shackles of the Hunter, since they were no more than dust.”
The black robed man leaned back in his throne. Clasping his bone white hands together he brought them up to where his chin must have been under the hood. He held them there for a few minutes, as if to ponder what his servant had told him.
“Bring me… this dust.” He finally said.
“My Lord?”
“The dust from the shackles. I want it.”
“But my Lord, the prisoners are loose.”
“They are of little use to us now. Let the uhyre handle the prisoners. Bring me the dust.”
“My Lord, if Veller gets back to Aru…”
“What? She cannot stop what has begun. My plan is now in motion. There is no stopping it now.”
“Yes my lord, of course, but I was only thinking about…”
“He will have to mind for himself, won’t he? If he can’t handle one little girl, then maybe he’s not the ally I require in these times. Now, do as I say, bring me the dust from the shackles, let the uhyre deal with the prisoners.”
“Yes my lord.” Eric reluctantly replied as he slowly backed away from the black robed man before turning around and heading for the door. He stopped in the middle of the floor and looked up at the balcony, directly at Kile as if he could see her, and then sh
e realized that Eric could see her since Emara was hiding behind her.
“Emara… what are you doing?” Kile asked not taking her eyes off of Eric.
“I don’t want that Ravenshadow guy to see me.” Emara replied.
“Great. But now… he can see me.”
“Oh… yeah… sorry about that.” The young mystic apologized.
Ravenshadow slowly rose from his wooden throne and stepped down from the raised platform. He walked up behind Eric, his black robes sliding along the floor behind him silently like a massive shadow. He turned his head up to her and even though Kile couldn’t see his face within the folds of his hood, she knew he was smiling.
“So, you are Kile Veller. Eric has told me all about you.” He stated in a low calm voice.
“And you are Ravenshadow.” Kile replied, keeping her voice equally as calm. “And I’m afraid I’ve never heard of you before.”
“Oh, you will my dear… you will, but maybe that’s a bit premature, since your use to me is… well… shall we say… at an end.”
“Well, if that is so, then I do have one question.” Kile said as she leaned over the balcony railings.
“Only one… I am surprised.”
“Oh, well… let’s be honest. I have a lot of questions to ask, but I’m sure you wouldn’t answer any of them. From what I’ve heard you won’t even tell you toady your plans, so why would you even think about telling them to me.”
There was a momentary break in Ravenshadow’s calm exterior as he turned and looked at Eric, but it was only brief and he soon turned his full attention back to her.
“My plans are not that secret, all I seek is justice. Surly as a true hunter, you can understand that.”
“True… true, but the whole… kidnapping, bondage thing, that I don’t get.”
“It was only to keep you safe, for the time being.”
“Safe… safe from who? You? The uhyre? Funny, I thought I was safe before you brought me here.”
By now Emara was pulling on Kile’s arm and she knew that the uhyre were on their way, if they hadn’t already arrived.
“Was that your question?” The black robed man asked.
“No, not really, all I really wanted to know was… why Ravenshadow. What? Were all the good names taken? I mean it's a bit cliché, sort of like a villain in an old fairy tale. I mean, come on, this was the best you could come up with.”
