Chapter 9: Magic and Memories
A/N: Heyyyy guys, look who's back! One evil thesis, graduation, job-hunting, and a musical later... Although I've been out of the loop for a bit-wait, almost a year since the last update?!-I've certainly not forgotten this story and been working on plot details and writing in the meantime. Man. Almost a year. Back in January for New Years, I thought it'd be a good resolution to post a chapter once a month. Well, better late than never? *facepalms*
As always, Ninjago and any lines from Shadow of Ronin are, regrettably, not mine.
Bright, brilliant light.
Kai shielded his eyes, even as the light lingered. The sounds of the explosion faded to a faint ringing. Heat roiled uncomfortably around him, and then he was falling, choking on the smoke, as the roof collapsed beneath him. He landed hard on his back, the impact stealing the remaining breath from his lungs.
Kai gasped and heaved for several long moments before he finally thought to open his eyes. He'd fallen into the room below, its roof now reduced to flaming, collapsed beams. Jay and Zane had hopefully avoided the worst of the explosion, but where was Cole? He let his eyes do the searching, body not recovered enough for anything more.
"We're coming, you guys!" Jay's voice sounded above. Kai saw the blue ninja peering over the edge. Jay's hooded face vanished and Zane appeared, sending ice inside the flaming building. The larger of the trapped flames melted the ice before hissing out in a few thick plumes of smoke. Then Jay and Zane were climbing down as fast as they could without being too reckless.
By now, Kai had recovered enough to sit up, though he still took some heavy breaths. "Glad…you all are… okay."
"…Yeah," Jay replied a few seconds too late for Kai's liking and staring at him with some concern. Zane's eyes flashed blue, and a narrow band of light scanned Kai.
"Guys… I'm fine. I can move… no problem. See?" He held up his arm. Then he caught sight of his sleeve: edges singed with numerous other parts of his uniform torn and deeply scorched. No wonder they were worried… He took another deep breath, but by now felt about normal. "Seriously. Fine."
"Kai's actually correct. There is no major injury; only a few scratches and bruises."
Jay let out a breath. "Let's not do that again, you guys."
"Relax. I'm the Master of Fire, remember? If anyone can take a hit like that, it's me." Kai pushed himself up. "But where's Cole?" he asked, tone sobering.
"Cole?" Jay called.
"Cole?"
There was a muffled grunt from a wall behind Kai.
"Cole!"
As Kai turned, several beams of wood went flying and Cole stumbled forward, covered in bits of debris and coughing. He caught sight of the others and grimaced as he brushed off some splinters, swaying slightly. "Ugh, remind me not to…to get trapped under a wall next time," he panted. Cole had a few singed spots on his uniform and one or two small burns, but to Kai's relief seemed otherwise unharmed; the fire ninja had taken the brunt of the explosion.
"Kai." Cole coughed again. "Glad to see—" He stopped, doing a double take that was almost comical.
"Cole, I'm totally and completely fine."
"He's telling the truth; Zane scanned him."
Cole stared a moment longer, then sighed and shook his head. "You idiot! You think just because you can control fire, you won't get hurt?"
"Eh, something like that?"
Cole lightly punched him in the arm. "At least try to be more careful next time, hothead." He took a deep breath, glanced at Jay and Zane, and nodded to himself. "Okay. I agree with what Kai said earlier: that guy is really starting to annoy me. So let's figure out a game plan to wrap this up."
"That's if he's waiting for us," said Jay. "This seemed like the big trap."
"Nah, I think he'll be there," Cole replied. "He could've lost us a few times now, but he keeps sticking around despite all the stuff he's been throwing at us. The real question is why's he holding back and what's he trying to accomplish? After all, he's gone to a lot of trouble to lead us to his traps, and he clearly spent a lot of time setting them up. Since Sensei would never launch that giant firework into the monastery."
"Maybe this guy works for a sketchy building company?" suggested Jay. "You know, he smashes our home and then someone else conveniently shows up to help. Or worse: an insurance company!"
Kai rolled his eyes. "I just don't get how none of us noticed some guy running around, setting this all up."
"Well, when have we looked at the fireworks?" Cole pointed out. "All we knew was Sensei ordered them for New Year's."
"But some strange guy in black, sneaking around the roofs… That's pretty suspicious."
Jay snickered. "Look who you're talking to, Kai."
Cole whacked Jay's shoulder. "C'mon, whoever this guy is, he's good. So we shouldn't underestimate him."
"You don't think he's trying to lure us away from Sensei Wu, do you?" Zane broke in.
The others turned, startled.
"That'd actually be pretty smart!" Kai exclaimed. And they'd just left Sensei like that, without a second thought…
"Okay, but why target us, then?" Cole countered. "Those goons of his specifically said 'destroy the ninja.' If he wanted Sensei, why not wait 'til we were scouting or on some other mission? Besides, he's got Nya with him. She's more than proved she can handle herself in a fight."
"Send your falcon, Zane," Jay cut in. "Then we have a chance either way. Cause I really don't want to start freaking out yet…"
"That's actually a good idea, Jay," nodded Cole.
"Oh, thanks. I actually do have them on more than one occasion, you know."
Kai could hear the smirk in Cole's voice as he continued. "Okay, so while Zane's falcon does its thing, it's about time we turn the tables on our samurai 'friend.'"
It was a nice day.
The weather? Balmy with a slight breeze. The balcony view? Impressive. And so far, a plan progressing smoothly. Yep. Definitely a nice day.
Ronin tapped a finger on the balcony railing. Only the ninja remained missing. That firework explosion shouldn't have posed a problem judging from all the research he'd done on them. So why the hold up?
This view, though... It rivaled some of the one's he'd seen from R.E.X. He half-smiled beneath his facemask.
But this vista, much as he enjoyed it, wasn't why he'd led the ninjas' merry little chase here. As the highest part of the cliffside monastery with few structures around it, he could keep R.E.X. parked nearby, hidden but ready for his getaway.
Hmm, maybe he'd head to the mountainside hideout after this, though: he hadn't stayed there in several months and the crisp air would make a refreshing change.
Sensing more so than hearing the whisper of footsteps behind him, he turned around. "Hey, took your time, guys!"
There stood the black-clad ninja—whatever his name was again; Ronin had more interest in memorizing the ninjas' abilities than their names—brandishing a scythe, eyes narrowed behind his hood. "You messed with the wrong ninjas!"
"Nah, pretty sure I got the right ones."
Ronin tilted his head, pretending to consider as he assessed the ninja—some singed clothing, perhaps a couple burns, but nothing too serious. The red ninja, standing slightly behind his comrade, sported a heavily scorched gi yet remained poised for action So he was either on adrenaline, or, as Ronin suspected, mostly unaffected by the explosion.
"Yeah, my information specifically said that the one dressed in black was a lame-o, and that's definitely you." He slid his katana out of its scabbard as he spoke, then flicked it up toward the ninja's face. Keeping them mad made it all the easier to corral them and finish things.
The kid snapped his scythe up to block. "In case you haven't noticed, none of us are in a joking mood."
"A shame."
Red edged around his friend, angling toward Ronin's side. "And nice try, kid," Ronin continued, blocking as the fire ninja lunged. "Nice try, both of you. But it's gonna take a lot more than that."
He dodged back as Scythe Boy swept his weapon forward, countered another jab from Red along the way. Then he leapt across the scythe before its owner could heft it back up, kicking the ninja square in the chest and knocking him back a few steps. But Red moved to defend his friend, preventing Ronin from pressing his attack and disarming the boy.
"Who are you?" demanded Red, flames forming in his hand before he flung them at Ronin.
Good thing he'd noted that little detail in Chen's files. He stepped aside, the flames missing him and sailing harmlessly past the balcony. "Someone who thinks you might not want to burn your home down?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Ronin glimpsed the scythe's haft speeding forward, and he took a half-step back, seized the scythe with his free hand, and yanked. The black ninja staggered forward, scythe slipping from his grip. Ronin took it, gave it a twirl, and pointed it at Red. "Just a thought."
A vibration shuddered across the rooftop. Ronin wobbled, and Scythe Boy's foot shot between Ronin's own and tripped him. The ninja snatched his weapon back, giving Ronin a solid punch to the side of the head as he fell.
Instinct turned that fall into a roll, and he came up in a defensive stance, katana raised. But spots swam across his vision from the force of the ninja's blow. Ugh, why did that kid have earth powers and enhanced strength?
"So that makes it okay for you to burn our home down? What do you want from us?" Scythe Boy demanded.
Ronin shook his head, working to clear his vision. Red was on the attack now, and as Ronin parried, Scythe Boy joined in. Ronin's katana blurred as it kept scythe and katana alike at bay.
Despite them pressing him hard, Ronin knew he'd be able to turn things in his favor again. He just had to move the two of them back, give himself a bit more breathing room—
The two of them. Just two. Red and black. Hold on a moment…
Ronin quickly assessed his position as he fought. The stairs seemed much closer than before—Those clever sneaks! They were corralling him!
Enough of that.
"At the moment," said Ronin, ducking their weapons, kicking Red's feet from under him, and vaulting onto the balcony's ledge, "I'm wondering where your other friends are." He dropped down the roof, swung below the ledge, and agilely landed on the ground in a half-crouch, katana pointed at—
Not the blue or white ninja at all. Blast. If the stairs weren't the trap, then what was?
He straightened in time for the ground beneath him to slicken like ice. No, it was ice, he realized when he fell.
And then lightning shot into him.
It wasn't an extremely powerful bolt, but it worked well enough: pain dancing through him, muscles spasming, and sparks playing havoc with his eyepatch's visuals until the electrical damage system kicked in. The lightning dissipated quickly, leaving him short of breath and sore.
Well, damn.
Ronin blinked, breathing deeply. They'd taken his katana, and now a cluster of keen blades and no-less-dangerous set of nunchucks glared down at him. Those kids don't mess around, he grimaced. Especially that blue one and his lightning.
Yet despite his vulnerable position, he finally had the ninjas where he wanted them. He felt the comforting pressure of the Obsidian Glaive's sheath beneath his armor.
Now, to make sure things continue this way…
"Don't make any sudden moves," ordered Red.
"Or any other moves?" That was the blue ninja—the lightning punk.
"Take off your helmet," a cool voice added. Behind shurikens, the white ninja's robotic eyes glared.
Ronin complied, easing his aching body up to do so.
"You'll put all your weapons in a pile over there," gestured Tin Man.
"Your armor too," Scythe Boy cut in. "We've seen that flamethrower of yours."
Ronin sighed, debating whether he should feel more impressed or annoyed at their demands. Good thing they didn't start thinking his eyepatch shot lasers or something. He stood, removing his dark armor and laying out most of the myriad weapons on his person.
Tin Man's eyes flashed blue for a moment. "You've forgotten two stun grenades, four explosive shurikens, five kunai, two tantos, and a sai."
"You're just all kinds of helpful, aren't you?" Ronin added the offending objects to the sizable pile beside him. "We good now? Cause not to hurry you, but I do have other things to attend to."
"Now you'll step away from your weapons," Scythe Boy replied. "And don't do anything stupid," he added as Ronin moved.
Ronin snorted. "I couldn't, even if I wanted to—you've got all my weapons. Mr. Tin Man here made sure of that. I am completely at your mercy." He spread his arms in emphasis, then clasped them behind his back near the Glaive's sheath. Show time.
"Who are you?" Lightning Punk asked.
"Oh, just a humble dealer in rare goods."
He was reaching for the Glaive when Tin Man suddenly barked, "Wait, there's something strange about the weapons scan!"
"You mean this, Mr. Tin Man?" Ronin drew the Glaive, extended its collapsed blades, and hurled it toward them before Tin Man could use his ice powers, enjoying their looks of surprise.
The Obsidian Glaive, its gleaming golden handle flanked on either side by identical curved black blades, spun around the ninja once. Purple-black smoke painted the air in its wake as it returned to Ronin's outstretched hand. The smoke deepened as spectral tendrils began flowing from the ninja to the Glaive, which warmed in his hand as the ninja cried out. Just a moment, and then he'd be done here.
A bo staff slammed into the ground in front of him.
"Hey!" Ronin exclaimed, shifting into a fighting stance, searching for his assailant. There, on the roof. An old man and some girl, running to the ninjas' aide. But not just any old man—as the ninja's sensei, he'd be a pain to fight. And this girl, whoever she was, looked like she had formal training too. A friend of the ninja? He'd need to look into that later. Ronin snagged his katana and backed away from the now unconscious ninja, glancing over his shoulder as he inched onto a wooden platform overlooking the cliff side.
"Yeah, you're not getting away that easily!" the girl snarled, brandishing war fans. She faltered as she reached the ninja, eyes widening then sharpening to a glare. "Whatever you did—"
"I think I've got what I came for," Ronin interrupted as he sheathed his weapons. "See you around!" The sensei had reached his staff, the girl was about to lunge forward, and Ronin—just leaned back over the side of the ledge and let gravity do the rest.
The air sped past him, whipping his hair and kimono's top, hungrily pulling at him. He faintly heard his would-be attackers gasp, and he smirked. Dramatic exits had their place now and then.
Ronin sounded a sharp, three-note whistle. The wind battered him a few seconds longer, and then he heard a familiar whir of engines as he tumbled into R.E.X.'s open cockpit. The helicopter soared up, still on autopilot, while he straightened in his seat, closed the cockpit, and slid his fingers around the well-used handles of the controls. Another job well done, Ronin thought as he turned away from the monastery.
Losing his armor, though, presented an unanticipated blip. With the quality of that craftsmanship, there was no way he was letting the ninja keep it. He'd have to reclaim it later.
Yet even that couldn't dampen his good spirits. He hadn't just succeeded, after all—he had taken another step toward freeing his soul.
It was growing late. Sunlight that had earlier filled the restaurant now dwindled, casting the lone red-headed occupant in shadows. She sighed, drumming her fingers on the table as she snuck another glance at the clock on the wall. Kai was over an hour late. He'd left no message: no phone call or even a knock and note in the doorway as he flew off on dragonback to do his hero thing.
This wasn't like him at all.
Since parting ways after they'd defeated her father, Skylor and Kai had kept in touch. Not nearly as much as he'd prefer, but it was something, allowing her to forge her own path while still having some support.
She had opted to continue her father's noodle business, something Kai didn't understand but respected her on nonetheless. Which was more than she could ever say for Chen. Her fingers stopped drumming and tightened into a fist.
But her decision wasn't about finding a job or needing a direction or still feeling tied to her father's plans. She wanted to reclaim her family's name and demonstrate that she was different. True, she could join Kai's team and make a reputation for herself there, but she needed to do this on her own, no matter what obstacles came her way.
And plenty came. With Chen's name defamed and no food coming from his island, income had plummeted. Though she had access to a decent amount of money, it wouldn't last forever. She'd already had to remodel the restaurant to make it less costly—gone were the gaudy neon signs (expensive and a drain on the electricity) and the rotating buffet (not the most hygienic)—and shut down all of the sister branches and frozen food lines. She'd dismissed most of the staff too, keeping just a few reliable men who'd worked there for years without any idea of her father's criminal connections.
Today was the only day of the week she closed the restaurant. She sometimes met Kai here when he offered to pick her up, telling him it was an easier meeting place rather than admit she lived in what used to be a storage room upstairs.
Skylor sighed, relaxing her hand. Kai was many things, but not this late or quiet. Either he'd forgotten—a first—or something bad had happened.
She stood and headed to the register, since using the store's phone instead of buying a cell offered another way to cut costs. Generally, she tried not to call Kai much, not wanting to come across as some overly clingy girlfriend. Her fingers hesitated by the phone.
But Kai hadn't stopped by in a bit, and knowing she'd see him tonight had made the week more bearable, especially with the screaming kids who'd gotten sick, and the couple who tried to skip out on paying, and the very vocal customers complaining about the changes she'd made to the business, and, at her other job as a club security guard, overhearing too many chauvinistic patrons.
She picked up the phone and dialed Kai's number.
"See you around!" the man had chuckled, like all of this was some stupid joke to him while her brother and friends lay unconscious on the ground around her.
How dare he. How dare he.
And then that coward had flown off before they could do anything.
Wu had joined her, and when the ninja woke shortly after, she and Wu'd been so relieved. Until Kai started asking how she had escaped from Samukai while Jay tried to helpfully demonstrate what the four-armed general of the Skulkin Army looked like. All the ninja had been shocked, too, to see Zane as a robot. Especially Zane.
Wu's words had hung heavy in the air. "It is as I feared when I saw the Obsidian Glaive… They have had their memories stolen."
"Nya?"
Nya started, nearly toppling her swivel chair. She clutched the desk to steady herself and turned to see Kai hesitating in her doorway, cell phone in hand.
He stared at Nya a long moment before shaking his head and asking, "Do we know someone named Skylor?"
Oh, great. Nya snorted. "Only your girlfriend."
"Wait. I have a girlfriend?" Kai's eyes widened, and then a smile tinged with a hint of a smirk crossed his lips. "I have a girlfriend?"
"Don't get a big head about it. Gimme the phone, Romeo." Some days she'd forgotten that Kai wasn't so cocky around women. Even in his early days as a ninja, the veneer of bravado had been less thick, more honest. She should remind him about that.
Kai handed her the phone, and Nya glanced at it to make sure he hadn't hung up on accident—Kai also hadn't been too great with phones. Time for some damage control. "Hey, remember this when we get your memories back. You owe me."
"What was that?" Kai called over his shoulder, hurrying from the room.
Nya rolled her eyes and got to business. "Hey, Skylor. It's Nya."
"Please tell me you know what's going on with Kai," the other woman's voice greeted. "Because if this is his idea of a joke, it's the worst."
"Oh no. What'd he tell you?"
"And I quote, 'I'm sorry but I apparently lost my memories, so if you could just hold…?'"
Nya facepalmed. "Smooth, Kai. Well, I almost hate to say it since he gave such a horrible explanation, but he's telling the truth. Some crazy guy with a dark magic artifact or something erased part of the ninjas' memories."
Skylor sighed. "It's like they all have a target painted on their backs or something."
"Yeah. Hazards of the job, I guess, but still."
"So, how much of their memories did they lose? And…" She hesitated. "Is this permanent?"
"No, Sensei said we can reverse it, but he's waiting until tomorrow to explain. This way they can have a little time to adjust, and we can keep an eye on them. As for memory loss…it's a couple years. Back to when they first formed the team, before they even met Lloyd or heard of the Green Ninja."
"Wonderful."
"Tell me about it." Nya leaned back in her chair with a sigh. "None of them think I can fight and Jay's smitten with me again."
"At least he doesn't think he's fighting Cole. Kai mentioned it was worse before the Tournament."
"It was awful! But anyway, I'm really sorry about this, Skylor. Is there anything you— Oh. Wait. You guys had a date tonight, didn't you?"
"Well, not now, of course."
"Crud, I'm so sorry. Bet he's gonna flip out when he gets his memories back, though."
Skylor snickered. "I can just see him bursting into the restaurant with a look of panic and his shirt on backwards or something. Ah, but you guys have crazy stuff happening to you all the time. I understand. I won't hold it against him. Yet."
Nya smiled. "I don't know, with that ego of his, sometimes he needs to squirm a little. Though you do a pretty good job of keeping him in check."
"I try."
"So… how are you? Really?" Nya pushed her chair away from the desk, letting the wheels carry her near the door. She batted it closed, then scooted back. Even though the ninja weren't close enough to overhear, Skylor deserved the privacy.
"I'm fine."
"There was a pause there. What's up?"
"You know, you're worse than Kai," Skylor grumbled, but Nya could hear an appreciative tone behind it. "I've just been busy with work. Whether we have a lot of customers or not, there's still plenty to do. My father left more than enough messes. But I knew that going in. So… just feeling the grind, I guess."
Nya pursed her lips at Skylor's dismissive tone toward herself. "I hear you on that," she replied, careful to keep her own tone light. "These guys always keep me on my toes. But hey, let me hear what our next move looks like and then I'll drop by as soon as I can."
"You don't have to—"
"I know you can use a break from your work, even if it's just to vent a little. Tea or coffee never hurts either."
"Okay, okay!" chuckled Skylor. "Just let me know when you've got a date in mind."
"Will do!"
"Kai's gonna owe you big time for this, you know."
"Heh, I'm counting on it. But I do want to see you too."
"Yeah, it'll be good. Just… try to keep Kai out of too much trouble? And please, if there's anything I can do to help…"
"I'll do my best, and'll definitely let you know."
"Thanks. And good luck with all this! We'll talk more soon."
Skylor ended the call, and Nya frowned at the phone. Skylor seemed more stressed than she would admit, maybe even to herself.
Outside of hanging with Kai and sometimes Nya and the other ninja once in a while, Nya suspected Skylor didn't go out. Skylor took her work seriously, throwing herself into it. But where did that leave her personal time? If she wasn't careful, she'd burn out completely. And regardless of whether Kai dated her or not, Nya had no desire to see Skylor crash.
Just one more person on my list to keep an eye on…
Blast, waking up hurt. His head throbbed and Clouse knew the pain wouldn't disappear anytime soon.
Forcing his eyes open, he found a dark stone floor greeting him. With a slight groan, he pushed himself off his stomach and sat up, one hand to his head as if that could stop the world from spinning around him. The clank of chains, which connected manacles on his wrists, did nothing for his head or vision either.
As his vision settled, he focused on his surroundings: a cell of stone walls with only a barred door blocking a hallway to break up the monotony. Eerie purple flames spilled over sconces in the wall, creating a murky gloom. How considerate of his captors.
"Hello, Clouse."
Clouse twisted toward the sound of the voice, one irritating in its familiarity. In the cell across from him, a gray-haired man in tattered black robes, face pale in the flickering light. Of course. "Garmadon."
"That's it?" His old nemesis raised a mocking eyebrow. "I thought you'd be pleased I ended up in the Cursed Realm."
Clouse glared at him, head throbbing. "But you're here. And now I'm stuck in the Cursed Realm, locked up with you of all people because a bunch of rogue magicians feeding off a magical hotspot thought it'd be—oh, who in the Underworld knows—clever to capture me too!" He flung up his arms in annoyance.
Garmadon considered a moment with a frown. "They're followers of the Overlord, actually."
"The Overlord?" Clouse rubbed his temples and sighed. "This just gets better. But…that would explain all the magic in the area." He paused. "The Overlord possessed you, though, so why are you locked up? Weren't worthy enough?"
"That's the question, actually: am I sacred or tainted? I'm not sure being part Anacondrai when they found me helps my case either. They're figuring out what to do."
"Hmm." So the spell succeeded after all. Clouse had wondered when his tattoo grew warm and glowed faintly a few weeks ago. But the Cursed Realm allowed little magic to pass into it, so nothing else had occurred. "Maybe a very nice, ceremonial execution."
"We're already dead men," Garmadon snapped. "Clinging to hate gets you nowhere—surely getting Cursed has shown you that?"
"Says the one who pushed me into the portal."
"Says the one who opened it!"
"And for good reason! But look here," he interjected as Garmadon started to reply, "I'm not interested in arguing with you. It's bad enough we're imprisoned together." And it hardly helped his headache, not that he would tell Garmadon.
Garmadon snorted at that but didn't reply.
This would be a very long imprisonment if Clouse didn't find a way out soon.
He stood, swaying for a moment from the sudden movement. Finally the dizziness passed, and he stepped nearer to the cell door's bars. They appeared normal, just solid metal. Which was fair game for dark magic…
Clouse muttered a simple spell at the bars, only for his manacles to glow briefly and a spike of pain to shoot from his arms to the rest of his body.
He doubled over with a gasp. Blast. They had used deepstone. He hadn't seen any in years, but here they'd made manacles from that wretched rock. Not only did deepstone react strongly to dark magic and reflect spells back, but any contact between the stone and magicians prevented them from using magic.
Well, he supposed he shouldn't have expected anything less from followers of the Overlord. At least they hadn't constructed the entire prison out of deepstone. Hmm. He'd have to think creatively then. And come up with a plan for if he actually did escape.
"So the cuffs are magic-proof," Garmadon noted. "They appear to be element-resistant as well."
Clouse glanced over at him. "Vengestone?"
"Apparently."
Echoing footsteps prevented Garmadon from elaborating. Two guards in hooded, sweeping, black mantled cloaks over dark purple and black armor accented with gold neared them. Clouse spotted the Overlord's insignia on the front of their mantles. So Garmadon was right, then. A foreboding man carried a sharp halberd, while his stone-faced female companion bore a sheathed katana. They stopped in front of Clouse's cell as the woman pulled out a small ring of keys and unlocked the door. She gestured toward the hall and Clouse complied warily.
The guard with the halberd headed back down the hall. Clouse glanced over at Garmadon, but the woman nodded after the man. Garmadon shrugged, and Clouse set off after the first guard. I suppose they already interrogated Garmadon, he mused. Must be my turn.
As they left the prison and moved into the building proper, Clouse found himself impressed by the architecture. It fused ancient and modern stonework and design, at once spacious and livable, but with undertones of power, and, if he didn't have those cuffs on, no doubt magic. Every so often, banners with the Overlord's symbol graced the walls; other places had it painted directly on. There were also golden swirls and flourishes, symbols suggestive of dark magic, and, more rarely, purple and black dragons. If only he could feel the magic in this place!
They passed several more doors, corridors, stairways, and the occasional other hooded figure, until Clouse had to ask, "Where are you taking me?"
"The main library," the man replied, his voice slightly deep and accented. "The Stone Council wishes to meet you."
A moment later, they halted outside two ornate doors. The halberd guard opened one and Clouse entered the area beyond. The door swung shut with a resonate thud, but Clouse barely noticed, enthralled by the sight before him. Here was a library: at least two stories worth of elegant shelves soaring above him with smaller bookcases and tables spread throughout the room. He drifted to the shelves, hungrily eyeing the titles. Sakarvhyata's Treatise, The Art of War Magic, Liminal Bridges, Discerning the Transmundane… Ah, yes, these were books equal of the room!
"I see you like our collection?"
Clouse jumped, whirling toward the direction of the speaker. A robed man sat at a table in the back of the room. His cloak's hood had intricate filigree around the edges, while he wore jutting shoulder armor reminiscent of images Clouse had seen of Stone Warriors.
"Please, sit." The man indicated the chairs beside him.
"Your library is impressive. Exceptional." Clouse slid into a chair on the man's right.
"We try." The man smiled. Intelligent, bright blue eyes peered from a golden-brown face covered with strange, swirling tattoos, all framed by black hair and the shadows of his hood. It made an odd contrast. "I'm Katsuro. And you are Clouse?"
"Yes." He tore his gaze away from the books and focused on his host. "I see my reputation precedes me."
"Of course. You understand that knowledge is the true source of strength, and your accomplishments in dark magic reflect this." He cocked his head. "We could use a magician of your caliber in our ranks."
Recruitment? Interesting. So everything about this meeting was carefully staged. "By 'we,' you mean…?"
"I and the rest of the Stone Council, who lead what remains of the Overlord's forces."
"The Overlord?" It seemed strange they kept emphasizing their allegiance. "Surely you've heard he was destroyed."
"The Overlord is dead," corrected Katsuro. "But we remain faithful to his vision and teachings. We know that power founded on physical strength alone will inevitably fail, as the body does. But the power found in words—" he indicated the library with a hand "— lasts forever. Knowledge without application, though, is useless, so we seek to master both."
"True," nodded Clouse. "But the Overlord was hardly an idle scholar—he wanted to conquer the Realms. So where are your aims now without him?"
Katsuro chuckled. "We have been without the Overlord for many years; the First Spinjitsu Master's disruption of the Realm Seal ensured that. Our first goal remains to escape the Cursed Realm. So of course we prepare for our eventual freedom. But the Overlord has always faced challengers. Once he escaped the Cursed Realm, well, we had our work cut out for us. Old foes seeking to re-establish themselves, new ones trying to assert their dominance. The Preeminent, especially, has become a thorn in our side."
Clouse started. "You're at war with her?"
"Hopefully not for much longer, but she's clever and elusive and knows our craft well." Katsuro gave a frustrated sigh.
What in the Sixteen Realms did they do to get her mad? Clouse shook his head in disbelief. To be fair, she always did prefer to be the one in control, but all the same… "You mentioned a council. Do your forces answer to them?"
"Yes, the Stone Council guides our next moves and training. We keep an eye on everyone and reward those who demonstrate potential. Some we permit into the Council itself. In time, perhaps you will find yourself with that honor as well."
"That assumes I accept your offer."
"True." Katsuro shifted back in his chair and looked at Clouse. "What do you think? Will you join us?"
"It's…a lot to take in."
The offer, admittedly, tempted him: The chance to study magic as he never had before, among people who truly appreciated the skill, to debate theories and sharpen his mind, to earn a place in their Council on talent alone, maybe even lead it.
Yet Clouse already knew his decision. After all, if Rako succeeded—and Clouse had a lot of faith in the boy—Clouse would need to stick close to Garmadon. Although it didn't bode well for either of them if Garmadon was considered tainted… Clouse would need to play his cards close to his chest if he wanted any chance of influencing the Council's decision. "Your library alone makes a compelling argument. But some time to consider would be helpful."
"Of course. That's easy to arrange, although I regret that you'll have to stay in your cell. Some are uncertain of your motives and prefer to keep a close eye on you. But we'll make sure you are provided for."
Katsuro rose and began heading towards the entrance. Clouse followed. "And you? Why do you think I'm here?"
His host shrugged. "I could think of many reasons. Angering the wrong person, arrest and sentencing, having a spell tampered with, activating some magical artifact's safeguards… No one willingly comes to the Cursed Realm. And no one wants to stay. So already, we have quite a bit of common ground." He opened one of the doors. "We'll talk again soon."
"Good."
Clouse's escorts stood outside. They led him to the prison, but Clouse hardly had an eye for his surroundings on the return.
This, he suspected, marked the beginning of a very dangerous game.
A/N: Garmadonnnn! He's back, baby. B) And Skylor, too!
I had some fun changing up some of the scenes in SoR, like not having the ninja create a giant magnet to defeat Ronin. Perfectly fine video game logic, but for a story? Not so much. But man, Jay is savage! XD
The real question is if Scythe Boy, Red, Lightning Punk, and Mr. Tin Man will ever stick in the fandom, haha. I figure Ronin was too lazy to memorize their names, since he figures he won't be seeing much more of the ninja after this. His mistake.
Pythor's pouting 'cause he's not in this chapter. Especially because Ronin pulled off a great dramatic exit. To be fair, as my sister pointed out, Ronin's plan would've been derailed had Nya snuck up and whacked him over the head with a frying pan, but she didn't get the memo quick enough. Next time, Nya. Next time.
On a side note, the guard with the halberd has some kind of African accent, but I had no idea how to convey that.
And points to anyone who spotted the Skryim Easter egg!
Next chapter, we'll hop into some fun stuff: Zane gets his first POV, Morro discovers the ultimate challenge of the 21st century, and someone from season 7 gets a shout out. Thanks for reading, and I'd love to hear what you think!
