Act Six

Finale

The fire had burned to glowing embers on the hearth, and the early morning sun was streaking onto the floor when Stephen was awakened by Cloak. Uncoiling from its' cozy spot around its' Chosens' shoulders, it gave a hearty shake, and went to hover in the sunshine.

Stephen stood, stretched, stiff from spending so many hours in the chair.

Also, probably from his injuries, as well as last nights battle, but he could rather ignore it in his happiness at seeing his crimson comrade so much improved.

He was pulling on a fresh shirt, and looking forward to some tea and breakfast, when he heard Wongs' distinctive footsteps crossing the study.

Annoyed, he actually scowled at Wong as he came into the room.

'Wow. You've already got it all figured out?' he grumbled, walking back past Wong into his study.

Cloak settled onto his shoulders, pulling a smile to Stephen's face, but made sure Wong didn't see it.

Wong wasn't at all pleased to be treated with such a borderline disrespectful attitude.

'No,' he snapped,' I've come to ask that you return with me to Kamar-Taj, for your own safety. At least, until more is understood.'

Stephen stopped short, turned, and Wong nearly ran into him.

'This Sanctum is my home. I won't leave it undefended,' Stephen growled, brows knotted.

Wong glared, having already expected that response.

'You cannot face that entity alone. We know nothing about him.'

'First of all, I have no intention of facing him alone,' Stephen shot back,

'Second, he is named Sable, self-proclaimed last of his kind. He's from a night realm, and can't tolerate light, or eldritch weapons. He's got a cloak that's an evil version of mine. I'd say that's a bit more than nothing.'

Wong was forced into a short nod of agreement, but fell in behind Stephen as he continued on to the kitchen.

'Look,' Stephen offered, cranking his attitude down a notch as he put a kettle on to boil,

'I'm going to spend the day, and the night, and however long it takes, to get thru those books you brought yesterday. Along with any other information you can get to me. But, I'm doing it here.

'You conference with whoever in Kamar-Taj. I promise not to go into the dark until I have all the information I need. Fair enough?'

Wong looked at him, almost distrustfully, as if he were somehow missing some important detail, but finally gave a nod of agreement.

Stephen gave a tight smile, invited,

'Care to stay for tea?'

Wong returned to the New York sanctum not long past sunset, to find Stephen doing exactly as he'd said; pouring over the stacks of books piled alongside his desk, music playing in the background. His MacBook was open, it's screen full of notes, information gleaned from whatever had been sent him from Kamar-Taj. Every light in his study, as well as his bedroom, and the hallway outside, all turned on.

Cloak hovered, right at his elbow, apparently unwilling to go any father away.

'Checking up on me?' Stephen asked, tone irritated, without looking up, and Wong simply stepped over to lay another book on the pile.

'Yes,' he admitted, without flinching, and Stephen slanted him an annoyed scowl.

Gesturing at all the lights, Stephen asked,

'Satisfied?' and went right back to reading the book.

Wong gave a frustrated sigh, and went to pull up a chair.

Stephen sat up, straight, said, incredulously,

'No. Seriously, I hope you're not planning on babysitting me?'

'Do I need to?' Wong shot back, and Stephen gave him a black glare.

'You doubt my word?'

Wong studied his face, carefully, his expression unflinching.

'Come on,' Stephen sighed, scowl fading, with a shake of his head, 'I'm certain there's more you can do to help back in Kamar-Taj.'

'That's true,'

Wong finally relented, giving the room a close perusal, realizing there wasn't one dark corner where Sable could possibly form a gateway unseen.

After another long, thoughtful scowl at Stephen, he said,

'This volume focuses on night realms,' tapping the cover of the book he'd just brought.

'Thank you,' Stephen replied, pulling it off the stack, opening it.

'Keep the lights on,' he warned, shaking a finger at Stephen.

Stephen rolled his eyes, but clearly dismissing Wong as he began to read.

After a few moments, Wong left, pausing briefly in the doorway for one backwards glance, then apparently, was gone.

Stephen just kept reading, pretending not to notice that Wong had snuck back, for one stealthy look, before actually leaving.

Stephen turned the music off, his keen ears waiting to hear the portal in the foyer open, close.

Slamming the book shut, he came quickly to his feet, and Cloak rippled close to his side.

'We're only going to get one shot at this,' Stephen warned, grimly, 'Are you ready?'

Cloak gave a shake of agreement.

Stephen gave a sharp nod, a sigh,

'Let's do it.'

The study was as blue-black as a moonless midnight. The only illumination came from the harsh glare of streetlights outside the giant windows, a faint cold glow. It was enough to gild the tall backed chair, reveal a figure sitting in it. Unmoving as a statue, elbows on the chair arms, chin resting on folded knuckles.

Sharp eyes, glittering, searching the shadows, listening to every whisper of sound in the building. Time seemed to pause, waiting like this. Every sense on high alert, every nerve on edge.

The clock crept thru the minutes, into the small hours before dawn.

Occasionally, his phone would ping, a check in text from Wong, rapidly and precisely answered. He couldn't afford distractions, or, an intervention.

Sable might not come, tonight. Or, tomorrow, or the next. Many nights might pass before the assassin came. Waiting for him to lessen his vigilance, let down his guard.

Stephen didn't think Sable would be able to wait. He' been beaten, a blow to his pride.

It wasn't often an assassin could be defeated and live to tell about it. It would certainly tarnish his reputation, whatever that might be, if word got around.

Also, the faster he returned, the less time his victim would have to prepare.

In his gut, he was certain it would be tonight.

He was right.

It only took a split second for the steel blue portal to spin open, immediately in front of him.

Sable came blazing out of it like a bolt of iced lightning, ebon cloak swirling like a black snowstorm from his shoulders.

He came straight at Stephen, unleashing a hailstorm of the silver shards directly at him.

Stephen leapt to his feet, a large mandala shield in each hand, deflecting the shards, and, this time, his shields didn't falter.

Sable gave a fierce snarl, formed a glittering silver sword in one hand, a shield of his own in the other. Stephen dropped one shield, replacing it with an eldritch whip of gold, faced Sable without fear. Blade and whip met shields, and the silver and gold illumination of their fight spun across the ceiling and walls like some eldritch form of the northern lights, a kaleidoscope of battle.

Sable charged, slammed his icy shield against Stephen's shield of gold, creating an unexpected eruption of sparks into both their faces. Stephen flinched away, left an opening for Sable to land a blow against his forearm, the back swipe nicking his right cheek.

The blade burned like frostbite, left a black, bleeding slash, forcing Stephen back a few steps, but he recovered, quickly, replied with slap of his whip across Sables face, drawing blood of his own. Sable tightened his defense, renewed his attack, but, so did Stephen.

Whip snarled blade, shields deflected blows, but neither was able to gain the advantage.

Finally, Sable took a few steps back, hissing in frustration at his inability to penetrate Stephen's defenses in any meaningful way.

Narrowed a gaze at Stephen, then sent his cloak jetting to attack.

Before it could reach Stephen, Cloak materialized from the darkness, dove at Sables cloak, completely enveloping it in its' crimson folds.

With an angry howl, Sable switched from sword to shards, and threw them at Cloak.

They struck an unseen shield, shattered into dust, never leaving a mark on the scarlet guardian. Cloak gripped the ebon enemy cloak tight, dragged it away from its' Chosens' battle.

Sable froze, glaring at the unexpected resourcefulness of his enemy.

'I may have underestimated you,' Sable snapped, pausing to catch his breath.

Panting himself, Stephen shot back,

'That's happened before.'

Sables face twisted into a sneer, bared silver fangs in anger, then, reformed his sword, turned his attention toward Cloak.

Which was his first, and last, mistake.

The moment his attention shifted, Stephen dropped his shield and threw a double handed bolt of his eldritch whip around Sable, shattering both his shield and sword. Stephen gave a vicious yank, tumbling Sable to the floor, thrashing futilely against the brilliant rose gold bands that clenched tightly around his chest, pinning arms to his sides.

The more he struggled, the tighter Stephen pulled the bands, until he finally lay still, smoke wisping from beneath his bonds. Stephen straightened, and, with a snap of his wrists, detached the whip from his hands, swirled it into a never ending loop encircling Sable. He stood over his enemy, offered a not at all friendly smile, then found a seat in his tall backed chair. He gave a quick glance at his injured forearm, wiped blood from his cheek.

Cloak floated close to his left elbow, looking rather odd as the ebon cloak it held bounced around within, attempting to escape.

Stephen leaned over to an object sitting on the opposite side of his chair, and, with a flourish, swirled a cover off the item sitting on the floor.

A golden light flickered within the goblet-shaped object, almost like a fire.

Sable blinked against the sudden brightness, and Stephen gestured toward the item.

'Brazier of Bom'Galiath,' he informed, matter-of-factly.

'Enhances any spell, duration and intensity. It means I can hold you, indefinitely, without wasting any of my energy.'

Stephens' eyes narrowed, angrily,

'It also enables the shield I gave Cloak to hold your cloak, without any damage. From it, or you.'

Sable thrashed, briefly, but realized the more he moved, the tighter the flashing gold bands became. He settled for glaring, his breath shortened by the tightness of his bonds.

'So,' Stephen began, leaning back into the chair, nonchalantly, 'I thought about killing you, but, that would make me no better than you. Plus, I have a very strong personal belief system that prevents me from doing that.

'At least, for now.'

Sable shifted, uncomfortably.

'The other option I was considering was to just set you out in the sun,' and at that, Sables eyes widened, involuntarily. From beneath Cloaks grip, the ebon cloak gave a mighty surge, also obviously upset at the idea.

Stephen gave a satisfied half grin, continued, mock concern,

'But, I'm a little worried you might melt, or explode, or turn into dust, and that won't get me the answers I need.''

Sable barked a short laugh, which trailed off into a snarl,

'What questions?'

'What are you, exactly?' Stephen fired back, and Sable gave an evil grin, hissed,

'The first of many.'

That answer sent a chill up Stephen's spine, but he was careful not to show it.

'Who sent you?'

Sable closed his brilliant eyes, shook his head, chuckled, but otherwise kept silent, which was no surprise.

Stephen stared at him, long minutes, waited for Sable to meet his cold, judgmental stare.

'I thought as much. Which is why I've decided to put you in the Gyve.'

Within Cloaks' unrelenting grasp, the ebon cloak went ballistic, thrashing madly in an attempt to escape.

Sable spoke, the words an unknown dialect, and his cloak went still.

Sables expression was much less arrogant as Stephen stood, pulling the black orb from his pocket.

Commented, dryly,

'I'll try to remember to check on you in a couple weeks, see if you have anything to say, then.'

Stephen gave the orb a small toss, catching it easily, observing, a curious twist to his brow,

'You might be alright in there, since you like the cold, and dark.'

Sable simply lay, quietly, as Stephen bent over, took his sling ring, pocketed it, commenting, with a wink,

'Wouldn't do for you to keep that.'

'My cloak?' Sable asked, suddenly, unexpectedly.

Stephen straightened, with a contemplative frown,

'Cloak will deal with your cloak however it sees fit. Recompense, for your treatment of it.'

Cloak gave a satisfied sway, but there was no reaction from its captive.

Sable simply closed his eyes, with a small nod, and spoke another short sentence. The tone was apologetic, sad, and then, the ebon cloak gave a gentle shuffle against its captors' hold.

Stephen couldn't help but recognize that bond, and felt a sudden wave of regret over his decision, but it didn't last long.

Mercy wasn't an option, not with this being. Not after what he'd done.

He firmed his jaw, lifted the Gyve.

Sable opened his eyes, a hateful glare up at Stephen, accompanied by a terrifying silver snarl.

Stephen didn't flinch.

He pointed the Gyve at Sable, opened it. The Gyve shuddered, pulled Sable into a swirling whirlwind of black, snapping the eldritch coils that bound him.

Accompanied by a blood curdling scream, Sable vanished into the orb.

It was over in a second, and the Gyve snapped shut.

Stephen looked at the black orb in his grip, admitted, with an unexpected shiver,

'That was a bit disconcerting,' and stepped over to the desk, clicking on the light, and laying the Gyve down.

He looked at it, then Cloak, asked, solemnly,

'What are you going to do with that?' indicating its' captive.

Cloak hung there, a few seconds, facing its' Chosen, then deliberately turned, to hang close in front of the giant windows.

Outside, the horizon was lightening, and dawn wasn't far off.

Stephen frowned, not certain that exposing the dark cloak to sunlight would actually harm it, but, it was Cloaks' decision. He would be ready to assist in its' recapture, if needed.

He hurried around, turning on lights, just in case Wong decided to show up, unannounced. He'd set a motion sensor at the end of the hallway, which would ping to his phone, but that would only give a few seconds notice.

He needed to return the Brazier to the Relic Room, clean up his injuries, or risk unwanted questions.

The first rays of sunlight burst into the room, a brilliant flood of crimson, violet, and gold.

Stephen stopped what he was doing, went to stand quietly beside his scarlet companion.

He looked at Cloak, and it turned toward him, collar set stiffly in a determined attitude.

It waited, silent as always, seeming to ask for its' Chosens' permission.

Stephen smiled, grimly, nodded,

'Your choice.'

Cloak whipped its folds open, releasing the ebon cloak into the sunlight, and backed away.

The black cloak struggled to escape the shimmering rays, but its' efforts were in vain. Within seconds, it burst into a cloud of dust, sifting to the floor like ash.

Cloak hung, stoically, facing its' Chosen, as the last of the dust settled.

Then, without a backwards glance, it headed for the broom and dustpan that sat in the corner.

Stephen sighed, then gathered up the Brazier, headed back to the Relic Room, returning it to its' stand.

When he got back to his study, Cloak was just finishing sweeping up the silvery, slate colored ash, swinging over to tip it into the waste can with a satisfied tap of the dustpan against the edge of the can.

After a moment, it returned the broom and dustpan to the corner, and went back to bask in the sunlight. Its' attitude felt distant, and Stephen wasn't quite sure what to do to change that.

A sharp 'ping' caught Stephens attention, and he pulled his phone, said,

'Uh, oh. Wongs' on his way up.'

He hurried over, moved his tall backed chair back to the desk, settling in to it, and, as Wong entered his study, he gave a huge yawn, and a stretch, as if he'd been sitting there all night.

All at once, he remembered the slash on his cheek, and forearm, attempted to conceal them by rising, walking over to stand by Cloak, looking out at the sunrise.

Wong eyed him, observed, sharply,

'Long night.'

Stephen nodded, without turning around, agreed,

'Guess I could get some rest, now the suns' up,' but couldn't resist a glance back over his shoulder.

Wong leaned over the desk, scowling, as he noticed the Gyve sitting there. It was way too dangerous to be left out of the locked case. In his concern over Cloak, Stephen realized he'd forgotten it, and gave a silent curse.

'Why is this removed from the Relic Room?' Wong asked, lifting it, pulling Stephen a nervous step that direction, hands raised in a cautionary gesture,

'Ah, be careful with that.'

Wong shot him an angry glare,

'Why?'

Stephen grimaced, guiltily, admitted,

'Sable is in there.'

Stephen was afraid Wong might explode he looked so furious, but he never uttered a word.

Instead, gripping the Gyve tightly, but cautiously, Wong headed off toward the relic room, Stephen right alongside. Cloak hurried away from its spot at the windows, settling onto its Chosens' shoulders.

Wong made the trip in utter silence, which was more disconcerting than any rant he might have thrown Stephen's way.

Once in the Room, Wong unlocked the case, made of bullet proof glass, lit with brilliant LED lights, and laid the Gyve into its cradle.

After locking it, he stood, long seconds, scowling at the relic, with Stephen shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot behind him.

All at once, Wong turned, raged,

'You gave your word, you would not face him alone! Not confront him, without the proper knowledge!'

'Clearly, I had the information I needed,' Stephen defended, then indicated Cloak, wrapped close on his shoulders, added, quietly,

'And, I wasn't alone.'

Wong was unimpressed with Stephens defense.

'Have a care, Stephen,' Wong warned, angrily, 'one day, this arrogant, loner attitude will carry you into a situation that is above your skills, and you will fail.'

Stephen scowled, recognizing that was a possibility, but not prepared to admit it. Wong straightened, folded hands behind his back, his expression returned to its usual calm.

Wong face.

As if nothing at all had happened, Wong said,

'It is good that you've captured Sable. I assume you intended to question him, later, after he's had some time in the Gyve?'

Surprised at Wongs' insight, Stephen nodded, twitched an eyebrow,

'Maybe I should ask for help when I decide to do that.'

Wong nodded, agreed, gravely,

'Maybe you should.'

A smile found Stephen's face, and he gave a stretch, observed,

'Actually, it was a long night, and, I could use some breakfast, and some tea. If you'd care to join me?'

Wong studied his face a few moments, gave a small nod,

'Perhaps you will share some details about your encounter?'

Stephen laughed, nodded,

'Of course!'

Wong headed out of the room, adding,

'Then, you can spend some time adding that information to the Library Archives for future reference.'

'My writing is illegible,' Stephen protested, following, and Wong reminded,

'You can enter all the data from your MacBook. We have a new digital format, available. We aren't savages, remember?'