A/N: Happy Holidays, everybody!
Well, it's update time again. I'm really disappointed that I haven't been able to get a chapter out sooner than this, but life has been crazy lately, and I just haven't had the time. Thanks to everyone who's still sticking around to read this! It's currently my pet project and my favorite story to write, so I honestly appreciate your repeat business. And, of course, thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review. You guys rock the house.
Now, to respond to said reviewers. Slashdlite, I'm glad you dig it! I'll do my best to keep the surprises coming. :) Onions, as always, you've left me speechless. And, perhaps, a bit constipated. But thanks for your kind remarks. :) Milady2222, I'm glad I had a hand in making your day! Thanks for reading! :) Charmed2007, thanks for checking this out! More questions will be answered in this chapter, so keep reading… Seraphalexiel, "C'odi" is pronounced just like "Cody". I wasn't feeling creative enough to come up with a set of completely new names for the doppelgangers, so I was trying to be a little creative with the spellings, while keeping the pronunciations the same. Just my laziness showing through. :) Emo Matt. Now that's a scary thought! :) Yeah, Evan's kind of ridiculous as a badass assassin. But it amuses me to write him that way, so assassin he shall be.
Anyhoo, the WWE owns everything and everyone (except Jeff Hardy, who owns himself, and the doppelgangers, who I own, unless you'd make the argument that I don't own shit because they are based off of real human beings). I am poor, so coming to me for money would be a useless and frivolous undertaking. Stay away, lawyers!
The Hunter and Jeffrey stood outside of the leader's tent, listening intently to the raised voices wafting out from its interior. The Hunter looked grim as he strained to overhear the conversation, which was heavily muffled by thick, deer hide walls.
"…shouldn't have brought him here!", spoke Evan, the assassin. He sounded furious.
"You are a fool!" The Hunter could hear the dismissal in the Lion's tone.
"You are the fool, if you do not listen!", returned Evan. The frustration in both men's voices was palpable, like crackling electricity within a gathering storm cloud.
The Hunter decided he'd heard enough. He would not have fights breaking out amongst the leadership of the camp. The men were anxious enough as it was, after all. He didn't need them thinking that their generals were quarreling amongst themselves. Such notions would lead to disaster, and he could hardly afford any more setbacks.
Eyes narrowed dangerously, the Hunter strode into the small, dimly-lit space of the leader's tent. Jeffrey followed immediately behind.
The Lion and the young assassin were staring each other down, throwing hateful looks in each others' directions. Neither man acknowledged the new arrivals. Evan glared furiously at the Lion as he tried to make his point known.
"I'm telling you, there's something off about that motherfucker!", Evan asserted, pale face turning red with anger, "I don't trust him!"
The Lion snorted. "You don't trust R'ei because you're afraid he might one-up you in a knife-throwing contest. You're too cocky for your own good, Evan."
The assassin scowled and exhaled sharply but, observing their newly-arrived audience, decided to make no reply.
The Hunter moved further into the tent, motioning that Jeffrey should secure the flap to ensure their privacy. "Did something happen on your way in?", he asked the Lion, eyebrow raised inquisitively.
The other man rolled his eyes. "Nothing of note. R'ei and the super assassin here got into it when I introduced them. They wanted to have a knife fight to prove who the better man was. Just macho bullshit."
Evan shot him an evil glare.
The Hunter crossed his arms in an admonishing fashion, glowering down at the young assassin. "That was foolish, Evan", he said, "To even think of risking your life in such a way, when you carry information from the keep itself."
Evan straightened, his eyes darkening at the rebel leader's admonishment. He looked down at his own clenched fists, nodding stiffly. "I see your point, Hunter, though I will not apologize for my actions. I do not trust that man."
Hunter grimaced. "You trust no one, Evan. We taught you that." He massaged his temple, poking and prodding at the growing headache that would not go away. "And what did R'ei do to earn your disdain, other than offending your pride?"
The young assassin's eyes narrowed. "I am telling you, Hunter, I've been on a hundred missions for you, in a hundred stinking back alleys. I've dealt mostly with criminals and scum for the duration of my career. I know how to smell a rat. And thatson of a bitch is a rat! Do you even know anything about him, other than the fact that he's skilled with the knife?"
Hunter glanced over at the Lion, who shrugged noncommittally and looked back down to the knife he'd been deftly twirling between his fingers. The older man sighed. He hated having to resolve situations like this.
He looked to the assassin, who watched him with an angry, defensive gaze. He was obviously waiting for an answer to his question. The Hunter had nothing to put forth, however.
Not anything that would satisfy all that were present, anyway.
The truth was, he knew nothing about the mysterious knife-wielder who even now guarded the outskirts of the camp. R'ei had never seemed to be a threat. He'd wandered into their midst one night, wounded, bleeding from a deep gash in his side. He later told them he'd gotten it from a wolf, after losing his way in the deep woods. He said he'd been trying to find his way back to the emperor's citadel, when he stumbled across the camp. The quiet young man had always seemed to be extremely grateful for their help. He would have, after all, died without their assistance.
After finding his health again, R'ei had decided that he wished to remain, and fight alongside the rebels. The Hunter and the Lion had both been present when he'd demonstrated his exceptional knife-throwing abilities, and they had accepted him without question. Skilled soldiers were, after all, desperately needed in the never-ending battle against the power-crazed emperor, and the turnover rate was frighteningly high.
R'ei had seemed so excited to have the opportunity, so pleased to be able to use his talent in the service of the rebels. He told them that it would be good to have a home again. Hunter remembered that much.
The camp was as much haven as it was battleground. Every man deserved to have a place of respite. With Matthew's attacks growing more brutal by the day, and Regal pushing them further from their places of comfort, the Hunter and the Lion felt the need to shelter as many people as they could.
In the midst of all this chaos, R'ei had come to them. And, as a result of said chaos, the rebel leaders had never even thought to ask him the most cursory of questions.
The Hunter scowled. He never liked questioning the integrity of any of his people. But Evan had been with them for years, and he knew he could trust his instincts. He'd put his life into the young assassin's hands on more than one occasion, and he'd almost always come out on the other side, unscathed.
"I know you don't like hearing it, Hunter", continued Evan, undeterred, "but just think about what I'm saying. Matthew's tried to infiltrate our camp before-
"And he's always failed!", interrupted the Lion, throwing his hands up in aggravation, "He has no idea where to find us!"
"And yet, his man Regal is on the verge of chasing us down and completely destroying our way of life", countered Evan steadily.
The Hunter listened to the young assassin's words, his brow furrowed in thought. He didn't want to consider the possibility, but as leader, he had to. After all, what if there was any substance to Evan's accusation? What if R'ei were indeed working for the emperor?
The Hunter spoke slowly, as if it pained him to pull the words from his throat. "It occurs to me, my friends, that we were so dazzled by R'ei's knife-throwing skills that we allowed him entrance into the camp, asking not the simplest of questions about his past. Now that I think about it, we know absolutely nothing about him."
The Lion looked strangely at his friend. "What are you thinking?"
The Hunter shrugged. "We have a right to know who walks within the boundaries of our encampment. Especially at this critical time." He looked closely at the Lion, as if searching for his approval. "I would simply ask him a few questions. It is well-known that all are accepted here, regardless of past transgressions. If he is free of guilt, he should not balk from my interrogation."
The Lion put a hand on the Hunter's shoulder. "Are you sure this is the best course of action, my friend?", he asked, his expression darkening, "Should the word get out that we are questioning our followers-"
"The word shall not get out", interrupted Hunter, "We must know. We must protect our people." He tried very hard not to glance at his son as he said this. "And as I said, if R'ei is trustworthy, he will agree to answer our questions." Hunter looked to Evan, who nodded his approval. The Hunter shook his great head, sighing. "We shall see if your instincts bear fruit, Evan, or if you are a simple fool jumping at shadows."
"My money's on the latter", muttered the Lion, his arms crossed in an admonishing fashion. He was, however, smirking mischievously.
The Hunter ignored his roguish compatriot, moving on to more pressing matters. "You had news, about what Matthew is up to. Tell us. It may explain why his puppet Regal is chasing our people to the ends of the earth and back."
Evan sat, cross-legged, on the floor. "Well, you remember that you sent me into the city at the base of the keep, to listen for any information regarding Matthew or Marckus?" They both nodded. "While I was there, I heard tell of a job that seemed too good to be true. The black mage himself was searching for a man of able body, spirit, and skill to 'watch over an acquisition of the emperor's'. I met with Marckus himself, after going through the appropriate channels, and he approved me for the job. He promised me a thousand gold pieces, and brought me down to the Cells of the Damned. At first I was worried, wondering if I'd been duped. There was no 'acquisition' in those cells, only sick, dying, and desperate people." Evan watched a shadow fall over the Hunter and the Lion when he mentioned the loyalists who were dying in Matthew's dungeons. He knew both men would have gladly turned themselves in to barter the freedom of those condemned souls. He also knew that the fact that they could do nothing about it tormented them both, day and night. The Hunter's wife, Stephany, had died a slow death in the Cells of the Damned. It haunted him, thinking that others would share her unhappy fate.
Evan took a breath. "But then, 3 days after I arrived, they brought him down."
The young assassin paused, as if to steady himself. "I nearly broke cover when they dumped him in the cell. He looked just like Jeffrey."
All eyes shifted to the shy young man standing in the corner, whose large green eyes had widened in shock at this unexpected revelation. Jeffrey stared fixedly at Evan, his pale, smooth brow furrowed in confusion, and what may have been fear. He found, however, that he could find nothing to add to the strange conversation. He didn't, after all, have any idea why there was a twin of his being kept as a hostage in the keep, may the gods bless and keep his poor soul.
Evan looked away from the Hunter's son, his expression grim. He continued, "Their appearances matched exactly. I thought, for a moment, that the camp had been found, that you had been captured." He paused for a moment. When Evan spoke again, his voice was quiet, and reflective. "But then, I quickly came to realize that this man was not who I thought he was. There was something off about him. He didn't feel like he belonged. Like the air around him was charged, or something. It was very strange."
"Who was he, Evan?", asked the Hunter
Evan met the older man's gaze. "I don't know. All I know is that he and Jeffrey could have been twins. Except, this other one had blue hair-"
"Blue?!", laughed the Lion, "C'mon, you're making this up."
Evan glared. "I'm not making it up! There were a lot of things that were off about him. His clothes for one. I've never seen clothing like that in any land I've been to. That fabric was not made on any loom in Matthew's empire! And he knew my name before I spoke a word to him."
The Hunter looked incredulous. "He just said, 'Hello, Evan'?"
Evan shook his head. "No, no. The moment he saw my face, he said my name, as if he were surprised to see an old friend in an unexpected situation. I told him he had the wrong person."
"Then what happened?"
"He apparently also recognized our cellmate, a poor fellow who had lost his mind when Matthew killed his family. He went by Shainen, I believe."
"Ah, yes", said the Hunter sadly, "I remember him. You say this person knew him?"
"Thought he did. But again, Shainen didn't seem to recognize him, beyond the fact that he thought he should die for who he was."
"Who he was?", said the Lion, "You mean-"
Evan glanced at Jeffrey uncomfortably. "Word got around those cells quickly. There were people there who'd been to the camp before. They recognized the man's face. They thought he was Jeffrey. They thought he was the emperor's brother."
"And did this cause any problems?", asked the Hunter. He leaned forward, his dark eyes flaring with anger.
"Uh", replied Evan, swallowing nervously, "One or two."
In the corner, Jeffrey hugged himself protectively, watching the scene unfold with stoic attentiveness. One or two, Evan had said, eyes locked on the Hunter. Sadness flicked across Jeffrey's delicate, pale features as he heard this.
He was always causing problems. He supposed it was his blood and his birthright to do so. Those he cared about were always cleaning up after his considerable messes.
"Shainen tried to attack him, but I managed to stop him. I was, after all, being paid to watch over him", he said ironically.
"Shainen attacked the prisoner, thinking he was Jeffrey?" The Hunter's tone was frigid. He paused, balling his hands into tight fists, squeezing hard enough to painfully dig his fingernails into the palms of his hands. Spinning around, he walked briskly across the room in three long strides. When he came to a stop, he stood there, staring numbly at the light brown wall of the tent.
His voice, when he spoke again, was low and rumbling, like the distant roar of a river within a mountain gorge. "I have told them", he said quietly, his back to everyone present, "I told them all. It matters not where, or when, or under what circumstances one should do so. To speak against Jeffrey is to speak against me. I do not forgive such treachery."
"Father-", said Jeffrey hesitantly, in an effort to calm the furious man down.
"NO!", Hunter shouted, spinning around and glaring at all of them as if they were Matthew himself. The blonde man pointed at his son with an unsteady hand. "He doesn't deserve it! The men need to understand that Jeffrey is nothing like his damned brother! He is not a monster!" His eyes met Jeffrey's then; a sad and frightened gaze locking onto a rage-filled glare. Jeffrey understood; his eyes said it all. He had known from the beginning how he would be treated. He expected to be shunned. It was simply a sacrifice he had to make.
Hunter suddenly felt like a fool. He realized then that his son was certainly a wiser man than he was.
He felt his anger begin to diminish and fall away, as if it had never been. He took a deep breath, in an effort to compose himself. "I apologize", he said quietly, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, "To all of you. I should not have lost control of myself."
The Lion smirked. "We're used to it."
"Was there anything else?", asked the Hunter, ignoring his compatriot's gentle rib. The older man began to rub at the bridge of his nose to stave off a headache.
"Just that Matthew and Marckus seemed very protective of him."
"Wait a minute, my friend", said the Lion, anger riming his normally jovial voice, "Did you say Matthew seemed protective of him?"
The Hunter stood beside him, his eyes piercing.
"God, you two miss nothing", Evan muttered.
"What were you doing anywhere near Matthew?!", snapped the Lion, his eyes blazing with anger, "You were to gather information. Confronting the bastard directly did not fall within the parameters of your mission, Evan! Had he found out why you were there, it could have been bad for all of us! He'd have had Marckus torture you until you told him everything! Gods, you are a damned fool sometimes!"
"I… felt the need to see what we were fighting against!", Evan replied desperately, feeling a strong need to defend himself despite the fact that he knew he was wrong, "I needed to see the bastard's face. So I pretended to be angry that I hadn't been paid by the mage, and followed Marckus up to the emperor's chamber. I simply walked in on their coattails", Evan said abashedly, suddenly realizing how foolish it sounded. "At the time, I thought it was a necessary risk."
"You could have been killed", hissed the Lion, "or worse."
"I was there for you!", Evan shot back, "I did it for you!-"
"Bullshit!", growled the Lion, "You did it for your own damned ego. So you'd have a grand story to tell your friends when you got back to camp."
Evan met the Lion's gaze, his eyes ablaze. "Fuck you!", he growled, his fists tightening at his sides.
"Enough!" The Hunter stepped between the two men, trying to diffuse the situation. He placed his large hand upon Evan's shoulder, glancing back around at his compatriot. "Stop this, the both of you! We haven't the time right now."
Evan took a deep breath. The Lion took a step backwards, his traditional smirk placed firmly back where it should've been.
"Sorry about that, Evan", he said, "But I have to keep you in line."
"Asshole", muttered the young assassin under his breath. No more was said about it.
"There is a twin of Jeffrey at the keep, yes Evan?", said the Hunter, his voice growing more and more agitated by the word, "And you said that he felt 'wrong', somehow, as if he were not from here. Two Jeffreys, in one place. Matthew and his black wizard are planning something, and I assure you it shall not bode well for us, or the people."
"What are you saying?", asked the Lion, who already knew the answer, but wanted to hear his comrade say it aloud.
"We must liberate this prisoner, if for no other reason than the fact that he is useful to Matthew", the Hunter replied gravely.
Evan shook his head adamantly. "You don't understand. They have this guy under lock and key and guard and magical sentry. It's ridiculous. You don't really expect to lead a pack of known criminals into the keep and liberate a valuable prisoner from right under Matthew's nose, do you? I mean, I'm idealistic and everything, but come on, I'm not quite out of my mind. And that, my friends, is fucking crazy."
"Do you have a plan?", asked the Lion, ignoring Evan's rant entirely.
The other nodded. "I do", he replied, his worried gaze drawn to Jeffrey. The young man looked especially pale.
"Good", the Lion said wearily, "Because we're gonna need a good one."
* * * * * * *
"Leave us, Marckus", Matthew said quietly. His voice echoed throughout the empty throne room.
The great mage bowed to the waist. Then, in one, graceful gesture, he turned into the wall and was gone.
Jeff struggled against a set of magically-enhanced manacles that bound his wrists above his head. The fear that he'd been so desperately trying to keep at bay was now rising quickly to the surface, in a monstrous wave that would leave only destruction in its wake. He didn't know what to do. All he could think about was his corpse, lying there cold, and lifeless, and so young. It seemed like such a waste. Matt, his dad, his friends, all wondering what had happened to him. Would they cry for him, or had they forgotten him already? The desperation rose higher, choking the air out of him.
"Please", he managed to say, "Please don't do this. I'll do anything you want, just please-"
Matthew turned to face Jeff, a black-bladed knife held reverently in his steady hands. "The time for negotiation has past, Jeffrey", he said, his voice emotionless, "Now is the time for action."
"Please, Matthew!", Jeff begged, his voice no more than a despondent rasp. When he saw that his pleas had no effect, he began to struggle wildly on the makeshift altar that the mage had supplied. The emperor continued to walk towards him, a determined glare upon his familiar features.
A fat tear rolled down Jeff's cheek, as the reality of his situation came to bear. He was going to die, far from anyone who loved him. No one would ever know. He shut his eyes tightly, hoping he would just fall asleep. Hoping he wouldn't feel it when Matthew shoved that giant blade into his gut. More tears ran down his ashen cheeks.
Matthew came to a stop when he reached the altar. He studied the younger man before him. He was covered in dirt from the dungeons. He was beaten, starved. When he had arrived on this world, he'd been pristine, and untouched. Now that he'd been here for a time, the filth that was this place had seeped in, and soiled his perfection. Two white tear tracks made their way down his dirty face. His blue hair, tangled and mussed, was spread out around his head like a strange and beautiful halo.
Matthew cocked his head. Strange and beautiful. Yes, it was what Jeffrey was. It seemed a waste and a travesty to destroy him.
He ran a finger gently down his prisoner's cheek, causing Jeff to flinch and open his eyes. Their gazes met.
"Don't play with me", hissed Jeff, rage tinting his voice, "You're obviously not going to let me go. So, get it over with." Another tear fell from his eye.
Matthew studied Jeff's face. "I have never once shied away from ending anyone's life. And yet, I stand before you, Jeffrey, having second thoughts about this ceremony. A ceremony, I might add, which was planned to the last detail, and is very important to my future endeavors. So why, I ask you, am I questioning myself?"
"Maybe because what you're doing is evil, and some part of you realizes that", Jeff replied bitterly. He sounded so tired. Even he didn't believe his own words.
Matthew laughed. "You see? It is that which I do not wish to destroy! That ridiculous naiveté, that wide-eyed innocence undoubtedly cultivated by your world. We spoke of the clowns on the street corners earlier. That is what you have been to me in your time here! You amuse me! You bring me enjoyment! I need such things in these times."
"Fuck you", Jeff growled. He looked away.
Matthew's expression darkened. He grabbed Jeff forcibly under the chin, forcing him to look up at him. "I do not want to kill you Jeffrey", he brought the knife into view, moving it teasingly towards his prisoner's throat, then retracting it, "But make no mistake, I will. It is, in fact, inevitable." He began to caress the skin of Jeff's cheeks with the blade, softly enough that no blood was drawn. The bound man lay there, frozen in terror, not knowing what Matthew intended to do.
"Are you afraid, Jeffrey?", whispered the emperor, his breath cold on Jeff's tear-streaked face, "Do you tremble in the face of death?" He smiled grimly and leaned over his prisoner, looking at him closely. "Or have I defeated you to the point to where you simply no longer care?" The knife's gentle stroking was driving Jeff mad. The constraints holding his hands above his head were making him feel extremely uncomfortable, almost claustrophobic. He heard Matthew sigh then, thoughtfully. "This world is dead. Its people are dead. There is nothing here, not anymore." He did not sound angry, or sad, or regretful. His tone was casual, and uncaring. "That is why we need you, Jeffrey. That is why you are so important." Matthew ran a hand gently down Jeff's cheek. The younger man closed his eyes tightly, not wanting to see his brother's face anymore.
Suddenly, Jeff felt the knife dig in.
"Open your eyes." Matthew sounded like any regrets he'd once had were now safely tucked away. The younger Hardy's eyes slowly slid open, only to see the emperor regarding him with cold, fathomless eyes.
He was breathing hard, out of sheer panic. His bloodshot green eyes were fixed on his tormenter.
Matthew let the knife rest on Jeff's throat, eliciting a whimper from his captive. He placed just a bit of pressure on the blade, and a tiny trickle of blood ran from the fresh wound. "I believe we shall wait", he mused quietly, speaking to himself, "Yes. That would be best." The blade was lifted from his prisoner's throat. Jeff was relieved, though he said nothing.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain as Matthew sliced into his arm with the razor-sharp blade. The young Hardy cried out in pain as blood began to flow freely from the wound.
"Fuck!", he cursed, glaring up at his captor, the pain temporarily making him forget his fear.
Ignoring the outburst, Matthew collected the precious blood in a small glass vial.
When he'd taken enough, he spoke a few words over Jeff's arm. The Hardy boy felt a strange tingling, as if all the blood in his body were suddenly rushing into the appendage. When he looked, the wound was gone, as if it had never been.
Matthew was already walking away.
"How did you do that?!", Jeff yelled at his back, his eyes wide with fear and amazement.
Matthew didn't turn around. "Do not ask foolish questions, Jeffrey. I shall return later. Were I you, I would prepare myself. This was nothing but a brief respite."
Jeff stared at the retreating emperor, a terrible coldness creeping up through his stomach. What else was there to say? There would be no rescue for him, no cavalry, and certainly no pardon.
He would die. Later. Whenever Matthew tired of his "clownish" antics, and finally felt it was time.
Jeff stared at the ceiling, praying for something, anything, to happen.
Little did he know that salvation was not far away.
* * * * * * *
R'ei sat in his customary spot on the edge of the camp, far from the warmth of the campfires and the bustle of dinnertime activity. He knew that he should make more of an effort to blend in with these people, but the more he observed them, the less he cared to do so. They were fools, and Lord Matthew would destroy them all. It was just a matter of time.
The ranger picked up a small branch that had fallen from the tree he was sitting under. Pulling out one of his blades from a concealed sheath in his sleeve, he slowly and deliberately began to carve the bark off. He had no purpose for doing this. Whittling simply helped focus his thoughts, and a clear mind was what he desperately needed right now.
Something was stirring here in camp. The Hunter and the Lion had covertly gathered a small group of their best and most trusted men about an hour back, and then disappeared into the woods. R'ei could not follow them without looking suspicious, and he already knew he, being a newcomer and a loner, was being observed closely by the Hunter's watchdogs.
He knew that Lieutenant Regal wanted him to send word of the goings-on within the camp. It had been too long since he'd sent out a report. But really, what could he tell the man that he didn't already know? The rebels were on the run. Though things appeared bad for them, morale remained high in the encampment, as the men here trusted the Hunter and the Lion to get them out of any dangerous situation that may arise.
R'ei sneered. They were all fools. They may as well just save themselves the trouble and bend knee to Lord Matthew now, before he hunted them down and destroyed them slowly, piece by piece.
A pale, willowy blonde man stepped into the firelight then, drawing the ranger's full attention away from his musings. R'ei had been watching this one for weeks. They called him Jeffrey. Apparently, according to the others anyway, he was supposed to be the emperor's brother. As he continued to whittle away at the branch, he watched as Jeffrey quietly greeted several people, and took a meager helping of slop from the cooking pot.
Matthew's brother was supposed to be dead. If this man was indeed related by blood to the emperor, it would have terrible ramifications for loyalists to the throne, such as himself. R'ei dropped the branch, and began to stroke his knife. If the rebels were hiding a true heir to the throne with rebel sympathies, it would be over for Matthew. There would be rebellion, blood in the streets, and Matthew's "impenetrable" fortress would be washed away in the resulting tide of anarchy.
All because of this shy, unassuming man who looked like he would fall over if hit with a strong wind.
R'ei wondered if he should simply kill him. Now would be the perfect opportunity. The Hunter and the Lion were away, and the other rebels, though cordial, seemed to generally shy away from the unassuming man.
The assassin discarded that thought after a few moments' time. He needed to know more about Jeffrey. He needed to gather as much information as he could before he made a move, one way or the other.
Silently, R'ei shifted himself slightly closer to the fire, his intense gaze fixed on the pale blonde man in front of him. Jeffrey, seemingly downtrodden about something, kept his eyes firmly on the ground. He picked distractedly at his steaming bowl of food.
R'ei watched, and waited.
He would reveal his secrets, soon enough.
* * * * * * *
Matthew stood atop the battlements, surveying his lands. These were lands that had long ago been destroyed by fire, and warfare, and black magic. Once, it had pained him to climb up here. He hadn't liked to look at the devastation. The scorched earth and twisted tree stumps, reaching like a field full of deformed corpses towards the gray sky.
Now, however, he cared nothing for this place. Pits of ever-burning fire blazed just beyond the city walls, set aflame from the toxins in the air. He watched them, his face betraying no emotion. He felt nothing as he watched the foolish peasants meander aimlessly in the citadel far below him.
Matthew fought the urge to sigh. He simply wanted to be gone from here.
He had delayed in taking Jeffrey's blood. He had stopped himself from killing him. And, as a result, he continued to be trapped here.
Matthew didn't know why he had been unable to destroy Jeffrey. Perhaps he felt some tiny affection for him because he was his deceased brother's doppelganger. Perhaps his emotions had overcome his reason, and he had acted a fool as a result. Matthew didn't know, but he did know that the sentimentality would not be repeated. Jeffrey would die. In a few hours, when he had managed to collect himself.
He heard Marckus join him on the battlement, a quiet pulling of air the only indication that he had actually arrived. "My Lord." The mage's normally low, detached voice sounded agitated, somehow.
Matthew turned to face him.
"What is wrong?" His dark eyes glittered like beetles as they intensely appraised him.
"The Hunter and the Lion are here", Marckus replied.
Matthew's eyes widened, rage filling him.
The black mage, normally incapable of fear, found his resolve weakening. "They have… taken Jeffrey my Lord."
Matthew's scream of fury could be heard all through the citadel, and throughout the adjoining land.
So, the Hunter and the Lion have gotten their grubby mitts on Jeff now, eh? How the heck did that happen?! What is going on around here? Does this mean Jeff is safe, or is he out of the frying pan and into the fire, so to speak? What will happen with R'ei and Jeffrey? And, of course, what is going to happen when Jeff and Jeffrey meet for the very first time?!!!!!
Stay tuned! Lots more to come!! REVIEWS ARE LOVED!! :)