The Writings of Assassination: Book One

by Cameron Style

  “On this seventh moon, I put forward phase one for our seventh lady of the fort.” Keeper speaks.

  “All hail.” The men ring out in unison, eyes and bodies still as stone.

  “Lady Jaria,” Keeper turns to me. “On this night you will endure an extreme exertion of both physical and mental strength. You will be placed in great peril in the Western Locks. In the Locks you are to find your way through the tomb.”

  Did he just say tomb?

  “…until you reach the great shrine. In this shrine will be a sword. The sword of the shrine is protected by unseen forces. Should you successfully retrieve the sword you shall return to Fort Guarded Dusk as Lady Jaria, Knight Divine.”

  “All hail the Lady in her quest.” The men pipe out in unison.

  My eyes flitter over the circle. Banes, Danny and so many others I do not know stand before me. Where is Thorn? Has he not yet recovered?

  “My Lady,” Keeper places a heavy hand on my shoulder. The old man in the purple velvet cloak comes from around the corner of the apothecary with a brown leather knapsack.

  “Lady Jaria, in this bag you will find a map to the tomb of the Western Locks, two health elixirs and one night vision elixir that will last for a short period of time. Once in the tomb, you must find the shrine of the sword. You shall have the clothes on your back, your sword, and this knapsack. May the Saints be with you in your quest.” He bows holding out the knapsack.

  One by one the rest of the men encircling the fire pit begin to kneel. I take the knapsack and slip it over my shoulders. Small glass vials clink together. I must be careful not to have the elixirs break before I can use them. Turning around facing the fire I take a moment to let the warmth sink into my skin. I have no way of knowing what kind of perils await me in the tomb of the Western Locks. Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes relishing the moment. “May the Saints be with you,” Keeper rises back to his feet as I start towards the door. As I pass the men rise.

  I place my hand on the door. My heartbeat thickens in my ears. Turning one last time to look at the crowd I make sure to give a smile and nod to Danny. I hope he will still be here when I return. If I return. Holding my breath, I open the door to the cold night air and exit the fort.

  IX: The Tomb of the Western Locks

  At least half of the snow from the day before has melted. The air is not nearly as frost bitten as I had feared. The night sky is clear with iridescent white bursts of stars and tracings of lilac and deep purple wisps. I hunch the knapsack high up on my shoulders and look down at the map. The Western Locks are the strip of mountains that divide sanctum four, Dim Eel, from Fangsun. It also divides the north western half of Fangsun from Winterstrand. The fort is at the base of the Locks, so the tomb can’t be far.

  I’m thankful to have eaten when I did. There is no food or water in the knapsack and my throat already grows dry with thirst. I take a moment to regard the city from the view of my walk. It appears dream-like in the distance, almost as if it were a painting. My feet continue to trek one ahead of the other slowly climbing up the low hill to the Locks. Soft snow crunches and squeaks under my boots as I make my way. The snow thickens the higher I climb. As I reach the top of the hill I make out something in the distance.

  Not too far ahead there appears to be a hole in the ground, lined with stone. I walk closer to find stone steps leading down in half a spiral to the ground where a skeleton lies by a door. Taking a second glance at my map and the stars for navigation, I know this must be it. The tomb. Given that it is a tomb I have planned on encountering skeletons inside, but outside? That can’t be a promising sign for someone about to enter. Or perhaps someone placed it there with that very intent. I’m already over thinking this. Fear and adrenaline are beginning to wield my mind into hyper-drive. I need to remain calm, patient, steady if I want to see this through. No, this challenge proved far too exciting to pass up.

  I carefully step down the stone stairs which are glossed with a thin layer of ice. Thankfully, I reach the bottom without any trouble. My hand reaches out to the door opening it with a loud creak. I pause. My heart beat pounds in my ears as I wait for some creature to come running out and attack me. Seconds pass. Nothing. I enter the tomb feeling for the walls. It is absolute darkness. Having taken only three steps in I look back out the door and contemplate escaping. Just as quickly as the thought enters my mind it leaves it. Escaping would accomplish nothing. I need to see this through. This is what I’ve been waiting for my whole life.

  Turning back to face the darkness I pat the walls with my hands stepping slowly down, down, down until there is nothing. The squeak of a rat shivers past my feet though I cannot see. I need a torch, flame, anything for light. I remember the night vision elixir in my knapsack. He said it would only last for a short amount of time. How much time is short? A few seconds? Minutes? One hour? I can’t be sure. It’s too early to risk it. My eyes will adjust, I must keep going. Step after step I make my way down what feels to be a widening hall. The distant sound of dripping echoes through the brooding silence of the tomb.

  My eyes finally begin to adjust from the lack of light. I can make out the texture in the wall and a few small puddles in the ground. Feeling my way further down the hall it widens so far, I am forced to stick to one side. I chose the left instinctively. Crawling along my eyes detect a flicker up ahead to the right. Perhaps around a corner? I step a little faster never taking my hands off the wall. One foot in front of the other. Steady, easy. Heel touching toe. I need to make sure there are no pitfalls. I can see it now, the shadow of a flame. The closer I get the brighter its flicker plays out across the stone floor.

  There is a corner to the right, the only possible direction. The walls open up to a larger room with broad ceilings. I no longer need to hold the wall. Three torches light the room. A few crevices in the walls hold scattering rats or small rifled-through chests. I waste no time reaching for the first torch within my grasp. Finally, light! I cannot help but smile as the flames warm my face. I take a moment to regard my knapsack. All vials still intact. Slinging it back over my right shoulder I pick up the torch and proceed. The room is much larger than the entry way I just came through and there appears to be a turn to the left as the only possible route. Makes it easier not to have to decide.

  Turning the corner, I am met by intricate steel gates with aged rat bones lining the bottom. Warning rises in my heart. I press at the gate with the heel of my palm and it pushes open with the slightest creek. I pause. Nothing. I push the gate further until I can slip through with my torch and knapsack. The light of the torch only extends a few circular feet around me. Everything else ahead is too dark to make out on my own, especially now that my eyes are re-adjusting to the aid of the torch. A few steps forward a sound catches my attention and I halt.

  Squeak.

  The gate. I turn back to the gate. Nothing.

  Squeak.

  Standing still I shut my eyes letting my sense of hearing take priority as I try to locate the direction of the sound.

  Squeak.

  Behind me, the direction I was initially heading. I turn back to face it taking slow steps forward. The sound gets louder, quicker and more repetitive. It’s not just a squeak, it’s something cutting through the air. The squeak sounds like metal of some kind being moved. That’s why I thought it was the gate. I get closer. This is something different. But what? Then I see it.

  I lower my torch letting my eyes adjust to the green-black darkness ahead of me. Axes. Swinging double-edged axes, three of them in a row, blocking my path. The first and last hang from the ceiling. The one in the middle comes up through the floor. I hold the torch closer looking around. I realize I’ve been walking on narrow stone, no walls, with endless depth below. I almost fall when I look down. Panic spreads through my veins like a wild fire. I have three options. Turn around, fall to my death, or face the axes. I try to steady my breathing and my mind. I must remember to remain patient, calm, and most of all, steady. “Ok, ok I can do th
is.” I say aloud to myself hoisting the knapsack tight. I approach the hall of axes and wait. Looking at ax one I count the seconds it takes for it to disappear and reappear. Two. Two seconds is what I have to run through once it’s disappeared into the wall.

  My eyes shift to the second ax swinging from the floor. It’s on an opposite clock, swinging every other two seconds. There appears to be a few feet in between the axes I could stand in and wait to jump over it. The last ax is on the same metronome as the first. Count. One. Two. Then I’ll jump. Count. One, two, jump. Ok, ok I can do this. I approach the first ax as close as possible.

  Swing.

  One.

  Run!

  Two.

  Swing.

  I make it. Standing in front of the second ax I steady my nerves and count again. Just as it slices into the left wall I panic and jump, missing it by less than an inch. Ok. I can do this. One ax left to get through.

  Swing.

  One.

  Two.

  Wait, not yet.

  Swing.

  I run the second the edge of the blade passes my face making it well to the other side of the hall.

  Looking back at the axes I feel equally safe and trapped. Will I have to make it through those again to get out? No time to worry about that now. I have to keep going. I pull my belt tighter, making sure my sword isn't going anywhere, then head down the steps at the end of the narrow hall. I walk into a small room with a high ceiling guarded by a gate at the end. All around the room, which appears to be two stories high, though I do not see stairs, are sarcophagi. Skeletons lie scattered across the floor, some with weapons and armor still clinging to their bones. Holding my torch low I place a hand in front of the flame to shield the reach of its light as I approach the gate at the end of the room. Next to the gate on the other side are glowing crystals, mint green. I've never seen a light source quite like it. It's dim, but efficient.

  On the other side of the gate lies a cavernous room. It’s in the shape of a very large circle, with a huge iron cage filled with the crystals hanging from the ceiling pointing down. The entire room is a melded spiral staircase leading down below. I cannot see past the first rows of steps. Another gate blocks my path to the room. Intricate leaf and gem patterns mark each door as they arch to a joined point beneath the stone wall at the top. A small lock holds them together with a very distinct keyhole. I push at the gate.

  Nothing. I'm going to have to find the key. Turning back to the room I grab the torch and head for the closest skeleton. It must be on one of them. It occurs to me that it's odd so many skeletons line this room. Perhaps none could find the key and were too afraid to make it back through the axes so starved to death here? It is the only plausible explanation I am able to come to. Pushing the thought to the back of my mind I search a third skeleton to no avail. Hair on the back of my neck begins to stand and I freeze.

  Something is in here with me. My heart begins racing as I reach my fingers down to the hilt of my sword. I yank the sword from the sheath, whipping around and dropping the torch. A fire ignites at my feet and spreads rapidly throughout the room where the skeletons lay. Those are not water puddles. No, it’s something corrosive. I jump across the spreading fire before I’m trapped. Something is in here. Something is watching me. My hands tighten on the sword as my instincts feel out the room for the threat.

  “Burn, human.” A hellish voice bellows. Someone, something, clad in deep emerald and black armor drops another torch from above. The fire begins to spread in what will soon trap me in a circle of flames. With a deep laugh the figure walks out of sight. I quickly sheathe my sword leaping for the second floor from which he appeared. I catch a stone halfway up and kick hard as the flames lick at my boots. With one hard pull I reach to the top of the floor heaving myself onto my stomach. He's not here. Standing I grip my sword and make my way back as the room behind me burns.

  This floor leads to the room on the other side of the gate. Taking a few steps over I look down to find the room of stairs lit with mint crystals. I scan the room for the man in armor. I need to make my way down those steps and back out of the light as quickly as possible. Sitting on the ledge I jump down to the floor below. Keeping my sword lowered I quietly make my way down. The air begins to thin and I have to force myself to slow my breathing.

  “Human.”

  I swing my sword behind me at the voice.

  Black.

  Where did he go?

  A maniacal laugh echoes in the deepening stairs. “Fool.”

  “Show yourself!” I yell, my heart laced with fear. My eyes dart around the steps keeping my sword held in front of me.

  “As you wish.” Within a flash he appears in front of me. A spiked gauntlet smacks me so hard I go flying backwards down the steps, unable to stop myself. I smack hard on my rib cage at the bottom. My sword comes clanking down the steps after me, landing a few feet away. I cough bringing my arms to my chest. I can't breathe. Rolling onto my back I choke for air. My back and neck feel wet, I must be bleeding. Either that or...I look up to see the armor-clad figure holding another torch.

  No.

  I push myself up and reach for my sword just as he lets go of the torch. I bolt through the rusted unhinged gate on my right. Flames ignite through the circle. Clasping my ribs I lean against the hall. As I look back at the fire I can’t help but wonder how many others made it this far. More alarming, has anyone ever made it out? Time passes as I crawl along the wall. Air is getting harder and harder to breathe. I sheathe my sword. I can’t hold on much longer. Both hands barely keep me glued to the walls. Dim mint colored light glimmers at the end of my vision.

  There.

  At the end of the hall are stairs going up. I crawl a little faster until I reach the stairs.

  “Ugh!” I fall to the ground, weak from lack of air. Crawling up the steps one at a time I can already feel the air getting thicker, my lungs filling quicker. At the top of the stairs I manage to stand and hide in the shadows.

  The tomb. I’m finally in the heart of it. This room is huge with walkways along the walls on all four sides, each side with a pathway leading across endless black depths to the center. The center of the room looks to be a shrine. The shrine of the sword. I take a cautious step from the shadows. A strange sound reaches my ears. Breathing. Heavy, slumber-like deep breaths fill the chamber. Without moving I peer around the darkened depths. Nothing I can see below. Maybe…up? My eyes cast upwards and my heart freezes. Only by the very dim mint colored light emitting from the gems hanging above the shrine am I able to see what hangs above me—all above me.

  Vampiric Elves. I’ve only heard of them in myths to scare children out of exploring unknown caves and tombs. Until now I had no idea they actually existed. My eyes adjust to the darkness making out at least a hundred of them hanging from the ceiling of the tomb. I take a step backwards just as a heavily armored hand clasps my waist and mouth pulling me back.

  “Do not make a sound, human.” The demonic voice comes from behind. I nod silently as he lets go of my mouth and grabs my wrist tightly. He pulls me to the left down the darkened path with soft, quiet steps. I can’t see anything past the black of the wall. He pulls me through an unseen opening. Tombs are known to be laced with secret passage ways. Leading me down the dark hall we’re soon met by a room fully lit with several torches and figures wearing similar armor.

  “Who is she?” One bellows deep from behind a mask. I cannot see any of their faces, they’re nothing but black and emerald spiked armor.

  “She is the one.” He holds both of my wrists tight like a prisoner. The other figure painfully grasps my face, turning it from side to side.

  “You’re certain?” His voice drops, demonic yet quiet. With a nod from the figure holding me the other forcefully shoves my face out of his grasp. “Then take her.”

  I am being pulled again down a hall. In the next room several guards in similar armor stand at attention. Corners of the room shackle skeletons, rats scurry in and o
ut.

  “Who have you brought me, Dameon?” A sharp female voice pierces the air. The guards part, revealing a dark twisted throne that resembles the roots of a large tree. A woman with pale blue skin and searing red eyes stands. We halt. Her hair is the same mint green as the gems, long past her waist, straight and thin as a needle. She wears black glass armor around her breasts, wrists and waist, fully exposing her stomach, arms and legs. She walks towards me and lifts my chin with a long and pointy black nail until I meet her eyes.

  “She is the one.” Dameon, the armor clad figure still holding my wrists in a bind answers as she inspects my face more gently than the last guard.

  Her dark purple lips part, revealing stark white vampiric fangs. “Is that true?” She asks in a register low enough for only me to hear. I stare back into her red eyes. “Who sent you?”

  “Initially, Connar.”

  “Connar!” She stands back up rising me with her, freeing my hands of Dameon. “Then it is true. You are not just another from the fort.”

  “I also came from the fort.”

  She and Dameon exchange a glance, I think.

  “That may be, but if you have been met by Connar then you are already different. That, and you are the only girl to have made it this deep into the tomb.” She smiles turning back to Dameon, “I knew this day would come. Thank you for bringing her to me.”

  He bows.

  “He nearly killed me. Twice.” I state out right.

  She and the guards laugh. “That is all part of the challenge, my dear. You passed. Tell me, what name do you go by?”

  “Jaria.”

  “Jaria. I am Rulsh, Queen of the Vampiric Elves. Welcome to my tomb.” She takes a seat back on her throne, her guards and Dameon stand at ease. ¶

  “If you’re Vampiric, then why do you hide from those sleeping from the ceiling?”

  “Oh, my child.” She leans forward with dreadful eyes. “Those are the darkened ones. They pose just as much threat to us as to you. It is why we walk around clad head to toe in glass armor, the only armor they cannot pierce.” I eye her exposed skin. “I however, am the Queen. I have been waiting here for centuries. For you.”