An: So this is a story that I wrote for my creative writing class. Let me know what you think.
Obsidian Void
I. That Nagging Feeling
Fire thundered around me, all consuming. The huts thatched with vegetation were but candles lighting the night like some sort of funeral pyre. The fields, a sea of shifting and reshaping hues of red and orange. Adults screamed, children screamed, animals screams. I smiled. This would be the end; I felt it in the air, thick with death, fear. Just one more town, just a few more lives. That's all it was, but not at all. More than trepidation hollowed the night. It didn't matter; I was busy reveling in this most elating of moments. Another day, another village, another heart-warming scene. This one was marred by something most unpleasant, however. This was my penultimate conquest that I would witness, myself. The hour was nigh and I couldn't help but grin. It was almost over. Screams, curses and harsh phrases were mud flung at me, covering me, shielding me from the flames and cooling me.
A makeshift executioner stepped into my proximity. The crude garb of my would-be killer revealed his true trade as that of a blacksmith. He was callous but not malicious. Never had he drawn blood out of coldness. His blade shook imperceptibly, detectable only to the eye which had seen many in the same situation before. The absolute power to take someone's life into your hands. The infectious germ that convinces you that you are a god. You have the inclusive influence over this person's life. You are their judge, jury, and best of all executioner. It makes your head swim with ecstasy. There is no euphoria even comparable to it. No drug induced sickness could ever match it. "Do it." I smirked and stared right past the blade into his eyes, his soul. Nothing can be more annoying than those who resign themselves to death and refuse to give the satisfaction of groveling in vain.
I was maniacal; we both knew it. He followed my command like a proper sheep. The blade began its downward arch. Steel whistled through air and something struck me. It resounded through my soul. I had faced death before, played games with it just as it had played games with me, but I had always won. Emerged victorious in every aspect, that was what I did. So this was it? This is what it feels like to die? Odd that I should be wondering about why I had committed the crimes that I had? Why had I spent my whole life doing these things? What had I done with my life? This can't be the end. I've traded my soul for crimson pleasures of tainted gods. Where was the boy who loved his dying mother? Where was the boy who loved his Rottweiler, Dal? Where was- dead. That person died a long time ago.
My whole life flashed before my eyes in some sort of retro film with garbled audio and distorted images. It was all the same though. Every memory of carnage, bereavement, and destruction. Every sound a plea for help, for a god, for life. This is what I stood for? Who instilled in me such power? Ironic that I should be on my knees, praying to anything that cares to listen that I should be spared. I could have been better. I should have been better! Mother would have wanted it…
Seconds elongated to hours as the blade loomed ever closer. Its course was halted by a shrill yell from somewhere in the crowd.
"Counselor Paige! Why have you spared this wretch of what he is so deserving?!"
"Would you have his ethereal body sent to be purged when you have not this power invested in you by any means? Would you lower yourself to such a base level that you could look this creature in the eye? My friend, you have served this town well, though as it burns do not let your own compassion and affinity to life be also but a wisp of smoke." Paige rationalized.
"What shall be done with him then?" The augmenter of metals inquired.
"My fate is my own. Allow me my flight." The voice emanating from my body rang strange in my ears.
"So you may raise devastation wherever your vile feet stain this blessed earth? I think not!" A shout from the crowd called. I rose.
"Your proposal?" This counselor was wise from what I could ascertain.
"I have stated my premise."
"Declined am I to accept it."
"In what position are you to deny it?"
"In what position are you?"
I thought.
"I offer you myself then."
"Intriguing. Expiate."
"My cause is crippled, my army on with this green land, I am the last and believe my path to be diverging. Grant me not forgiveness, nor pity. Acquiesce to my will that-" "Counselor! Counselor! From the north, the bandits of Dhow, they will be upon us before the transition of day."
Thusly, I was no longer the focal point. Pandemonium ran rampant, infecting the villagers like the plague.
"That is my offer." I repeated calmly.
"What?" Snipped the clearly irritated counselor.
"You have prisoners, I assume, infidels? Supplant them for my army of corpses. They are of no detriment to you. Think upon that."
Action must be taken, clearly that was his stance. His decimated village by my hand and his impending doom were quickly drowning him alive. I exulted in it.
"Let me take them. Let me rid your land of these fools who pretend to be proper villains." I spoke placidly, this was my ocean, my element that Paige was flailing in. "Absolutely not! You'd take over this town faster than a heartbeat." Paige snapped. "Every heart has two beats. I believe mine might change. Give me this. Should I perish, all the better, should your prison s perish, all the better, should your town be saved, all the better." Reason, that's all it was.
"The knowle-" An arrow pierced his heart, etching an everlasting countenance of shock upon his face. He looked down, touched the bloody tip with disbelief and fell to the ground as lifeless as him. With the villagers scurrying about looking similar to chickens lacking heads and their prize counselor stone, there was not much resistance. I was free to do as I pleased. They were in no position to deny me now. I turned to leave, my place was not here. My feet plodded reluctantly along. I had this strange feeling but my feet were little soldiers bent on following my first instruction. A seed had been planted that night.
II. Reconnaissance
"Sir, by when do you require the information regarding our newest commission?" Mikhail asked hands folded behind his back. Such a professional lad.
"Let me know as soon as you have such facts."
"I have it, my liege."
"Well then, go on."
"Yes sir, yesterday, we received a pigeon with a note attached to its leg. It contained a messaged in terribly written scrawl. It asked, or rather told, that we are to eliminate an upcoming warlord by the name of Thalius. The note informed us that the man in question would be at a banquet tonight celebrating his newest conquest over the town of Mor."
"Well done. Our employer was not stated?"
"No, sir. Only the compensation which we are to receive for our troubles."
The expectant look told him to continue without fear.
"10,000 drachmas."
"Exquisite. Now, gather my ten best men. I want five to look pristine. Tell them to dirty the water with their foul bodies and become presentable. Tell the other five that they need to be clad in complete black. Go."
He bowed and left without another word. I stuck my head out of my tent.
"Send the five new recruits over to my tent immediately! Tell the others we ride out in when the sun meets the hills!"
Selecting the correct apparel for the job was crucial. I need to say, 'look I've got money' without saying, 'LOOK AT ME I'M NEUVO REICHE!' A double standard for my dressing, I needed to blend in. We couldn't attract too much attention. I bent down on one knee, opening an oaken chest capable of holding a few uncut bodies. Purple? No. Red? To gaudy though the blood wouldn't show. Blue? To serene. Black? Yes, I believe that's the color. Black is an underrepresented color. It's not evil nor is it good. It's the absence of everything, the presence of nothing. It's amazing.
I put on the black velvet vest lined with a green the tint of quenched spring grass. My arms. I was missing my arms. I dug around in the box. 'Finding a needle in a haystack…' I thought to myself as I pulled one out. The other one emerged soon thereafter. A cough just outside my tent accompanied it.
"What?" I snapped perhaps a bit too hasty in my response. I couldn't stand being interrupted.
"Entry?"
"Granted."
In walked five boys young in their appearance and vigorous in their actions. New meat. Seeing fledgling recruits was refreshing. Some were scared as new babies, other were as confident as myself. I loved the whole spectrum, each presented a view I'd never known. To each I offered a solution they'd never guess.
"Names." I busied myself trying to put on the arms by myself. A test. I was fickle, much like a game of roulette. Gambling on me could reap rewards you had never dreamt of or the end of something you found precious. Speculate on my present temper; take a chance with your life. This new batch, I had high hopes for.
"Thanatos."
"Sarpedon."
"Phrixus."
"Castor."
"Dardonos."
"Such appropriate names. Do you understand why you have been called here?"
Not one knew the answer but was just as well.
"No matter, come. Help me with the insidious sleeves!" I gave no direct order to one specific. Castor stepped forward toward myself. My image resembled a scarecrow. He began to tie the strings that thwarted me so deftly.
"The rest of you leave. Tend to the other nine men I am to take with me tonight. Go!" I commanded of those afraid to take their lives into their own hands. Even the most hopeless of situations can be controlled.
"You are either superbly idiotic or marvelously intelligent. I've yet to reach a conclusion but I trust it's not a long race." I held up my other arm so it could be attached properly.
"Now, here is what you are going to do. I need an escort tonight. Don't look at me that way. You won't be wearing a dress nor cross dressing at all for that matter." He finished. I readjusted the doublet, shifting it upon my shoulders until I found it satisfactory. I already adorned my matching pants. A quick glance around exposed the location of my subordinate-polished boots.
"See that chest there? Dig through it. The dark navy suit, you'll titivate that."
III. A Night To Remember
All was in order.
"Those who know not to what ends we ride, signify by saying aye." Not a sound. Those that had not the faintest had the astuteness to forbid mouth from uttering words.
"Right, then." I spun my anxiously prancing horse and galloped off into the setting sun followed by nine men just as mentally questionable as I was.
