Chapter 3:
I woke up in the small cave, morning dew still clinging to everything. I shivered and tried to curl up in a ball, but something bound my left arm. I looked down, and saw Misty. She resting on my chest, breathing in and out evenly. I smiled and brushed her hair out of her face. She sighed in her sleep, and pulled me closer. I rubbed her lower back with my hand, and slowly she awoke. She blinked blearily in the faint light of the morning, dew glittering in her hair. She smiled.
"Hey there." She said. I stood up, refusing to smile. I grabbed my mask without a word, and walked into the woods. This was a problem. I heard her shift. "What's wrong?" She asked. I didn't answer, instead sprinting off into the woods. This wasn't happening. I stopped when I had gone sufficiently far from camp. I jumped and climbed into a tree, and sat. This was bad. I couldn't get involved with Misty, save anything but protector and protected. I sighed and looked off at the rising sun. I saw, in my mind's eye, walking into Pallet, and not being able to reap the rewards of my hard work. My "royal family," and I was to become a figure. A wraith of the night.
Don't forget the Wraiths. The words echoed in my mind, from the letter. I needed to be more than a man with a mask. And I couldn't do that if I became involved anymore with Misty. I took my mask off and sighed, running a hand through my unruly black hair. I looked at the silvery mask. It represented everything I hated. People with so much money they could throw it out. Power, hoarded among the few. And now, it would represent everything the people who wore it hated. The poor, fighting for what was right. I donned the mask again, ready to do anything in my power to stop anyone from wearing this mask. I walked back to camp, which was already packed up. Misty had her head down, and had saddled the horse. She sat on its back dejectedly. I sullenly grabbed the reins, retaining my down, distant attitude.
"Let's go.."
~|noOon|~
Τhe gates of Pallet reared up on the horizon, and on the open plain the figure rode through seemed to drain towards it. The sun set over the town, and the figure rode towards it incredibly fast. The tattered cloak rippled around it, and the black Rapidash it rode on was drenched a glossy sheen from sweat. They tore through the light smatterings of grasses like a four-legged, eight-foot tall demon. The Rattatas scattered like the mice they were, and the Pidgey's flew like hell was at their avian heels. The sentry, and her partner from Hoenn looked at each other. They called out, and a riding party was sent out to meet the figure. It was an orange-haired girl, no older than seventeen. The rider stopped when she saw the opposite figure riding out to meet her. It was a tall man, with squinty eyes and tan skin.
"Halt and state your business!" He said with authority. The girl's skin was dirty and scratched. Her eyes were alight with fear, and she kept feverishly looking over her shoulder at the approaching darkness.
"Please let me through! He will be here any moment! Please! I need to get away!" The squinty-eyed man's gaze softened.
"Who is coming?" She looked at him, every passing moment spent in the open plain seeming to triple her fear.
"He... He has a mask... Please..." Her voice was fading, becoming quieter and less fearful. "Please..." She careened sideways, and fell onto the grass. Just as the sentry reentered the city, a low, mournful note rang out across the plain. Instantly, he looked back over the plain, and his friends looked confused.
"What was that?" They all asked him. He stood, and looked out at the sparse grassland.
"Whatever it was..." He said. He looked at the sleeping girl, whose mouth moved in her sleep, and her head tossed side to side. "It's coming for her."
~noOon~
The warning bells and horns that blasted from the Pallet Keep told me my plan had worked. I saw the torches lit, and parties, heavily guarded, patrol along the walls. Honestly, I hadn't expected my diversion to work that well. I saw the guards light a signal pyre, and apply the signal shell. It reflected the light into a focused cone. I counted the parties, and sighed. I receded into the large patch of grass, and focused on the invisible Aura swirling around me. In my mind's eye, I could see the grass as it is, as it was, and as it desired to be. The same went for the Rattatas in said grass,and everything around us. I felt that current swirl, then commanded it inwards, filling me like a vessel with water. I felt the power grow inside me, and saw the grass slowly wither and die. The circle of death and emptiness around me slowly grew, until it reached the range of the sweeping cones of light. I stopped absorbing the life energies, and heard the bells and horns blast. I focused on the clouds, slowly drifting throught the air, and commanded them lower. I felt the immense amounts of energy pushing at my temples. I focused on one cloud at a time, so as to not over-exert myself. The clouds lowered slowly, forming into a chilling fog. The sentry's pyres shone dully through the fog, outlining shapes. I heard the sentries calling to each other, unsettled greatly by the fog. The tiny pinpricks of light slowly moved farther apart, and I focused on the one that was farthest from the keep. I moved slowly, my mind focused and sharp, the energy I contained pulsing, and the mist darkened further, turning from the grey of day, to the pitch-black of night. I came within the foggy torch light, and saw the three men manning the torch. They were incredibly large, beefy behemoths of men. There was no way I could fight them in open combat, but I could kill them, and boost the legend that would soon spring up. I had no intention of entering the city. That would be unnecessary. I would simply smoke King Maple and his daughter out of their little castle. I stood no chance in the city. But out here, I was something entirely different. I was a spectre. An image. More concept than concrete. Something unnatural. More unsettling, at least, then a boy with a mask.
~noOon~
Bartolomeu, Jacques and Simeon walked under the gallow cage, the skeletal foot dangling just above their faces. They occasionally jumped individually, none daring to call out to the other sentries. Without a warning, Bartolomeu, the one in the middle of the three guards, and the one holding the torch, chuckled.
"Look at us guys! We are walking around, on a wild goose-chase, because some little girl said so!" There was no response from Simeon, in front of him, or Jacques, behind him. In fact, Jacques had been very quiet, uncharacteristically so. Bartolomeu stopped, as did Simeon, and they turned around. Jacques was in fact behind them, but he was... Dead. Frozen in an upright position, with the gallowed corpse's hands wrapped around his neck from behind. His face was a contorted mask of horror and eternal pain. Bartolomeu and Simeon swore, and Bartolomeu heard a dull thump on the ground behind him. He turned, and saw Simeon, face down, clutching his face. Bartolomeu sighed, and grabbed his shoulder.
"Geez, Simeon. It's just Jacques playing a prank! I didn't know you were such a pans-" As Bartolomeu turned Simeon over, he saw that his eyes held the same empty, vacant stare as Jacques, but blood seeped through his lips and out his nose. Bartolomeu screamed a very feminine shriek. He turned, screaming incoherent nonsense. "He's over here," and "He got 'em" seemed prevalent among his babbling. He heard a pounding on the earth behind him, and turned. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the pitch-black fog, but the thumping grew louder and more frantic. Suddenly, a dark figure burst from the night, at the edge of the torchlight. He was moving faster than Bartolomeu had ever seen in a man, and leapt a good five more feet, onto Bartolomeu. They were sent tumbling, the figure loosing a series of furious kicks and punches that almost completely incapacitated Bartolomeu before he hit the ground. He looked up at the figure's gaunt, silver face. No. Not face. Mask. His heart stopped, and drew the dagger, wildly stabbing upwards into the cloaked man's torso This seemed to phase him slightly, but ultimately, the masked man placed a hand on the side of Bartolomeu's face, and the last thing the sentry felt was his torch being extinguished, plunging him into darkness, and a pressure in his temples.
~noOon~
As day broke over Pallet and the surrounding area, the morning watchman was appalled at the sight he saw. The plain that stretched into woods was drenched with pools of blood and dead bodies. But he saw one, one that was... Different. It was struggling, dragging itself across the plains, towards the gates, clutching its abdomen. The morning watchman called out to another, and the boy was recovered. He was placed on an adjacent cot to another recent addition. A red haired girl, whose steed waited in the royal stables, dark and waiting its real master.
~noOon~
I woke up in the middle of the night, and I sat up, my stab wound nothing but a dull ache. I knew they had used Heal Pulse, or something of the nature, and my natural affinity for Aura (one of the only things Aaron had actually taught me) had healed me as well. I sat up, slight moans and groans around me from the crippled and travel-wounded. I looked around in the dull torchlight, looking for my "guard supplies." The stab wound had changed my plans, but other than now being in the city, my idea was generally the same. I grabbed the small, lightly clattering sack of gear, including my darker, less legal gear, and my weapons. I looked at the small archway to the main part of the castle, and there was a guard. Easily disposed of, like my family had once done to me. I looked over at Misty, who was breathing evenly. I looked back at the guard, and smiled. It was a dark, twisted smile. It was... Evil. And I loved it.
~noOon~
Okay, there's another chapter of Knight of the Dead. I will get to why he is called the Knight of the Dead in a few chapters, and you will know why the letter referred to "Wraiths." This is Petrous, signing out.