"Part of choosing a new path is learning not to dwell on old memories."
-Cyrius Centrelli
PART FOUR
CHAPTER XXXII
Archer leaned against one of the wooden rails of the boat as he silently urged the vessel to move faster. The voyage was a bit costly, and long, the ship having gone to three ports along the side of the Mirkilains before actually starting to go out towards Fallaci. Now things were underway and Fetare was beginning to dominate Archer's thoughts. He began to think of the day and night paintings of the Blue Falls and stretched his imagination beyond the paintings. He visualized an almost never-ending expanse of forest, stretching onward until it reached the water's edge. Peeking over the treetops every now and then were small towns, each full of people working.
Someone ran into him hard and broke the image. He glanced around quickly for whoever it may have been and saw a green cap with a single red leather strap disappear down one of the hatches. It took him a while to remember that the hat belonged to one of the crewmen. He shrugged it off and turned towards the sea. Once he was facing the water, he became aware of another figure in the corner of his eye. He tried to study it without letting the person notice. From what he could tell the figure was clad in a brown greatcoat, leather armor underneath. The figure was sitting and in his lap was a rusted broadsword. It was at this point in his observations Archer realized the figure was staring directly at him.
He wanted to pull the hood of his cloak over his head, but then he would not be able to see the person watching him. Not thinking of anything better, he began to make his way towards the bow of the boat. He heard footsteps behind him. Archer pulled the hood over his head and quickened his pace until he had reached the fore most point of the deck, near the pulpit in the bow. The footsteps continued softly for a moment and then stopped. Archer turned and looked behind him. No one was there.
The bow of the boat picked up and dropped suddenly as a series of large swells drifted by. Spray flew over the side railings and stung his face. Most of what came his way soaked into his cloak, making the air around him chill. Archer ignored it all and searched for whoever had followed him. The only people on deck were crewmen, none of them carried more than a dagger and all wore light clothing, no coats. Archer growled to himself and tuned to hold onto the bow railings as another set of swells rolled under the boat. In front of him was a black metal, crooked dagger that was pinning a piece of paper to the wooden rail. He tore the paper from the dagger and read it.
I remember you. See if you remember me. Find me first, if you can. If you do not find me on the boat, I will find you in Fetare.
He looked behind him and saw nothing. Then looked up. Tied to one of the standing ropes was a white cloth with red writing on it. He climbed unsteadily up to it and untied the cloth. The writing was in blood and said: I already found Flame, and later Flare. You and your friend cannot hide from me.
A chill ran down his spine as he let the cloth fly in the wind down to the water. He dropped down to the deck, landing hard as a breaking wave under the bow sent the boat rising up to meet him. He took the dagger that was embedded in the ship's rail and went in to the nearest hatch.
The hall that stretched before him creaked loudly with the ship's rocking as he made his way down it. He could hear the water hit the thick hull as the hall rocked up and down and side to side. It was too much for him. His mind did not agree with the surroundings and began to play tricks on his eyes. Shadows fell and lights darkened, blacking out the path before him so he could not see more than a few feet in front of him. Each wooden door he passed had voices behind it, laughing. He had to constantly tell himself the sounds were only the ship's creaking, and the lights had not dimmed. Still he could not see down the dark hallway. He suddenly became short of breath and had to stop. His mind told him the oxygen in the hall was gone, used up by everyone who had entered it before him. He had to find a way out.
He saw a pinpoint of light behind him, where he had entered this nightmare, and began to run towards it. Each time the boat rocked, he lost his balance and stumbled. His mind would scream at him, warn him about the lack of oxygen and tell him not to stop until he picked himself back up and began to run again. It took him longer to reach the hatch than he had expected. Once he could, he pulled himself out and onto the ship's deck. Gasping for air he turned and looked down the hallway he had just left. It was brightly lit and he could see clearly down it until it turned about twenty feet away. He turned from the hatch and saw another note, pinned by a simple dagger.
Scared yet? Give me back my dagger.
He held the crooked dagger in front of him and stared at it. Then he read the note again and without a second thought threw the dagger into the hallway as far as he could. Then he watched, stunned and unable to move, as a figure, hidden by shadows and a brown greatcoat, picked up the dagger, saluted, and disappeared down the hall.
CHAPTER XXXIII
Cyrius watched from the cliffs as a trade ship made its way into Fetare Harbor and docked. He could see several tiny specks swarm the decks, moving small boxes about. Only two seemed to not be doing anything, one of them was lost from view almost as soon as it left the boat, the other lingered about the docks. Curious, Cyrius glided towards the docks. The figures began to take shape as he drew closer to them, and now Cyrius could see the figure he had been watching was wearing a gray cloak, it was also significantly taller than the rest. He landed on the far side of the dock, drew his blue cloak tight about him, and picked his way through the crowded dock.
Archer groaned. Fetare was not what he had been expecting, and now he had Pyre to worry about as well. He had tried to find him after the boat had docked but.... He glanced down the dock. Someone was heading towards him, clad in a dark blue cloak. Archer grinned.
"Archer!" The cloaked figure waved.
"Cyrius. How have you been?"
"Fairly well, what are you doing here?"
"I should ask you that. How did you find this place?"
"Remember Tryst'n? The map room had this island listed."
"Cyrius, we have trouble." Archer glanced around. "Show me around and I'll tell you about it."
Cyrius nodded and began walking towards the Port Town.
"Pyre is here. I saw him on the trade ship. He killed Flare."
Cyrius hissed. "Finding him on the island will be hard."
"No, it will not. He will find us. Show me about the island, will you? I am anxious to see if this Fetare is all I have heard it to be." He glanced behind him nervously before urging Cyrius on.
Pyre watched the two leave from the tavern window. He chuckled silently. Archer, Fetare will never be what you expected. He stood and left the tavern. Not as long as I am here.
He made his way down a dirt road to a small warehouse and slipped in through one of the open doors.
"Old friends, I return." He called out into the darkness. Four pairs of eyes lit up and turned to face his direction.
"So, the leader returns." A voice in the darkness commented, almost in a sarcastic manner.
"I told you I would not leave you here." Pyre's response was crisp.
One of the pairs of eyes approached the light, becoming a Bozak wielding a sharp blade. "Look around you, Pyre, we are all that is left, plus a few hiding elsewhere. I can count out our numbers with a single hand."
Pyre stepped towards the Bozak. "But I am back, and a new challenge comes with me. A Sivak and a Bozak, both traitors."
"We will not take orders from you anymore, Pyre." Blaze rasped.
"Speak for yourself, Blaze. The rest of us are quite ready to follow him."
Blaze turned and hissed at the unseen speaker.
"You see," Pyre took a step towards the Bozak. "Blaze, they still wish to follow me. You have a single chance to change your mind."
There was a flash and the Bozak fell to the ground, clutching a gash in his stomach. Pyre laughed and pointed his scimitar down at Blaze's throat. "Oh, too late."
"You will die here, Pyre. I guarantee that."
Pyre wiped his blade clean and sheathed it. "Kill him." He turned and found a high perch to watch the execution while planning for the task that was ahead.
CHAPTER XXXIV
Pyre drew the hood of his gray cloak further over his head. There was no need for anyone to be able to doubt what was happening. At his side was a silver blade. He had stolen it from Flare after she died, and now it was about to betray the reasons for which it had been made. The only flaw he saw with his plan was in that his eyes were not amber, but that was a minor detail nobody would bother to notice.
In spite of the confidence he held in his plan, there were always a few small doubts that slowed his pace, but then, when he told himself that they could only happen in worse case scenarios, he would increase his pace to a near jog. Then another doubt would fall like a shadow and he would stop to think it through. By the time he reached the tavern, he had already thought through twenty scenarios, all of them having something extreme go wrong. As he pushed the door open and entered the smoke filled room, he hoped he was ready.
The silence that accompanied his entrance was so great he could hear his claws clack against the wooden floorboards. He almost wanted to laugh, but fear of having someone use his voice to identify him was too great. Instead, he grinned as he slowly slipped a hand under his cloak towards the sheathed blade while he approached his first victim.
There was a flash, and a shout as the first fell, leaving Pyre in the center of the tavern, his bloodstained blade drawn and ready, while he searched out others. The sound of steel sliding from sheath could be heard ringing from several spots in the tavern, and Pyre prepared himself for a fight.
The first attack came from the front and high. Pyre sidestepped and caught his attacker under the ribs with his own blade, taking him out of the fight for good. The second fell to a ducking jab to the chest, and a third dropped to the ground as Pyre pulled his talons from the man's stomach. Everything was going well.
"Sivak. Fight me, I dare ye."
Pyre turned and faced the challenger. Before him stood a tall, strong looking knight, a broadsword drawn and ready in his hand. The knight had locked his own brown eyes directly on Pyre's blood red. Pyre just nodded and attacked.
The knight was fast and a formidable opponent, but Pyre knew he would win. Even though the knight was skilled, he was falling back step by step. After a brief defensive, Pyre caught the knight in the side with his blade. The knight doubled over and Pyre slammed the flat of his blade against the side of the knight's head. The knight fell to the ground and did not get back up.
Pyre turned. One more blade waited for him. This one belonged to a lady standing just over five feet, and had green eyes, both of which were piercing Pyre's own. The lady just grinned.
"If you will, beast. I will take you on." Pyre hissed as she spoke. "You have four seconds to defend yourself, otherwise leave ere I cut you in two." He swallowed the words as he spoke. A faint recognition of who he faced entered into his mind.
Pyre charged suddenly and shoved her to the ground. Then he swung out at one last person, wounding a woman who had been at a table with her husband, and ran out the door.
Alyse groaned and picked herself up off the ground. "Someone look to the wounded, I'll get help."
Hunter stretched and stood, casually glancing out of the window of the tavern. He cast a look over at his brother, who was sleeping soundly on a couch in one corner of the empty room, and chuckled. Things were quiet to day, and he liked it like that.
A sharp knock on the door made him jump. "You know, this is a public tavern, you can enter."
"Sorry, I forgot." A woman entered, out of breath.
Hunter looked the newcomer over. She was a little over five feet, green eyes, and dark hair.
"We need help down at the Crystal Lakes Tavern. Some Draconian made a mess." Alyse stepped toward Hunter, leaving the door open.
"Do you know who it was?"
She shook her head. "No, someone new. I have never seen him before."
Hunter shouted at Viper to wake him up while he began fastening his belt and sword. "Come on, show us the way."
She nodded, turned and ran into Archer. She screamed something, drew her blade and attacked him. Archer jumped back out of the way of the deadly steel and continued to retreat while Hunter tried to assure her everything was all right. Cyrius' belated entrance helped very little. Archer turned to Cyrius to say something and felt something sting his face. He turned back to the crazed woman and stared her directly in the eyes. She stared at him a moment before she lowered the blade.
"Oh, I am so sorry. I thought it was him." She dropped the sword and fell to her knees. "You looked just like him, only he had these red eyes, almost like blood."
Cyrius leaned towards Archer. "Pyre."
Archer nodded and checked the side of his face. A small cut ran a few inches across one cheek, nothing much. "Well, what happened?"
Hunter helped Alyse up while he answered. "He raided a tavern and started a small fight."
"Who did?" Viper came up alongside his brother.
"Pyre." Cyrius turned to walk out. "Where did this happen?"
"The Crystal Lakes Tavern." Hunter answered.
"I'll meet you there. Archer, come with me." He stepped out of the door and came up alongside of Cyrius. We have some hunting to do.
Cyrius nodded in agreement.
Pyre found a spot in a tree to hide out for a short while. His mind was yelling at him.
Of all of the problems to prepare for, why did you miss that one! He hissed and dug his talons into the tree limb. I did not know she would be there! Of all of the places. He looked over his shoulder towards the tavern. "Fete nac therun dacht!" He tried to calm himself down. They are haunting you. The Callystrin family can never die. It seems to be that way. Another! And when she dies, I am certain yet another will come to take her place.
He snarled.
They have been haunting you all your life. You should have known you could not kill them all. At the fronts, they were feared by your troops. When that pitiful attack was made a while ago, you were shocked it was successful, but how successful was it really? Look, he glanced back over his shoulder, yet another lives, and she is stronger than you are.
He drew a dagger and drove it into the tree. "I know! Stop reminding me. Besides, she is not stronger than I am, she is just stronger than I thought she would be." He glanced around to make sure no one had heard and that the area was clear before jumping to the ground.
There is only one solution. Fight to the death. See her dead. Remember, she is the last of the four offspring.
He growled. Not quite, her brother, the Draconian, we cannot be sure what has happened to him.
"Oh, he is dead. Remember, he never returned from the raid on his own family. So what? That means nothing. For all I know he is...." A chill fell over him.
Oh, yet another one found. And he is here, and he is hunting you as we speak. And let us not forget who is with him. Your former friend, Nightstalker.
"It can't be. Not him, not here!"
Do not forget, you just set his sister against him.
Pyre relaxed.
But that is if she is not able to pick the two of you apart. What makes you think she will not be able to tell her own brother from you? Run, before he finds you. Have no doubts that he will kill you.
Pyre was getting nervous and he could not stand it. He took off running.
CHAPTER XXXV
Cyrius drew his blade and hissed softly. Pyre was near, he knew it. The Sivak's scent was lingering in the area. He turned to the other three.
"We need to find him before he attacks again, or finds a hole to hide away in. Archer, you take the Moonlit Lake. Hunter, you stay and look about in this area. Viper, you go to the cliffs. I will check the Crystal Falls. He can't have gone far."
Hunter and Viper nodded and left to go about their search, leaving the two friends alone.
"Cyrius, I can't help but think you've separated them but left us close together on purpose."
"Archer, if he wants the two of us dead, he will strike while we are separated. Our areas are separate enough, but we must remain within earshot of each other, just in case."
Archer nodded and looked up. Rain clouds were gathering on the horizon and moving towards the island fast. Combined with a cold wind that was coming from the west, and the sun slowly disappearing behind the clouds, the effect was chilling as the two made there way to the Moonlit Lake.
"Archer, I never told you before that I enjoy being in your company." Cyrius pulled his cloak tighter about him and pulled the hood back before continuing. "You are one of the few that I consider to be a true friend."
Archer looked over at him. "And Hunter and Viper?"
"They are friends, but I am still getting used to them." Cyrius let out a deep breath that became immediately visible inches in front of his face. "It is getting colder."
Archer noted a slight look of concern on his comrade's face. "What is so odd about cold weather?"
"This is very unlike the weather, to grow so cold so fast. Something is happening." Cyrius was silent a moment. "Archer, did you ever find what you were looking for?"
Archer shook his head. "That is why I came here."
Cyrius drew his hood over his face. "There is another Callystrin on the island."
A lightning bolt flashed in the distance and the rolling thunder soon followed. Rain began to fall. Archer shivered as the cold water and icy winds hit him. "Who is it?"
The inquiry went unanswered. Cyrius had stopped walking and was staring at something ahead, his blood red eye narrowed to a thin slit.
Cyrius drew his blade and looked over at his friend. "Archer, go."
Archer was puzzled for a moment until he looked ahead and saw what his friend had seen. Standing ten yards in front of them was Pyre, a blade matching Cyrius' drawn and ready.
"Cyrius, I can help you. We can take him on together."
"My fight, Archer. I want it to be fair, one on one. Go now." Without another word, Cyrius removed his cloak and began walking to meet his opponent.
Archer stayed a moment longer, just long enough to see the two warriors take a fighting stance. Then he turned to leave and saw another Draconian, a Baaz, wielding a curved scimitar and beckoning him into a fight. Archer drew his blade and bared his teeth in a snarl. The Baaz just laughed and ran. Archer took off in pursuit, leaving Cyrius and Pyre alone.
Hunter poked around his area for a while, finding nothing, until the wind and rains began. He groaned and closed his greatcoat around him in hopes of keeping some warmth in. But what the coat held in, the rains soon took by soaking into the coat and leaving it thoroughly drenched. With an agitated shout, Hunter removed the coat and cast it aside.
"So, the Hunter." The voice was raspy and had a slight serpentine sound to it.
Hunter turned to face whoever was speaking. Before him, with two thin blades drawn, stood a Sivak Draconian challenging the Ranger to a duel. Hunter, being the peacekeeper he was, smiled as he accepted.
"Hunter, I want you to know I have been looking forward to this moment for a long time." The Draconian's voice was raspy and dry.
"Yeah?" Hunter drew his broadsword. "Too bad you won't be able to tell anyone about it."
The Draconian just laughed and raised the two blades. "Let's have at it."
Viper shivered as the cold water and wind stung him. The heavily wooded trail to the lake was dark, and slow going. He had already given up on finding Pyre, guessing that this route was so slow, by the time he was there, Pyre would have left. He sighed.
From off to his right he heard a branch snap. His senses jumped to alert and he drew a dagger. Something snapped again, only on his left. Whatever it was seemed to be quick, and getting closer. He heard it again, behind him and he turned.
He heard a soft thump and staggered backwards. Embedded in his chest was the cold metal shaft of an arrow. His hands trembled as he reached up to pull it out. Something slammed into him from behind and pinned him to the ground, the arrow dug in deeper. He would have screamed or shouted something, but the sudden loss of breath prevented it.
"Tonight, Ranger, you die."
Viper reached out and his hand closed around his dagger. Out of desperation, he swung it behind him as best he could at the weight on his back. The dagger sunk into flesh and whatever it was shrieked and jumped away.
Viper pulled himself to his feet and faced his attacker for the first time. Staring back at him, with two crimson eyes glowing like coals, was a Baaz Draconian. A steady hiss was leaking from between tightly clenched teeth as it clutched the wound in its side.
"Ranger, you will die." The Draconian took a step towards Viper.
"You first." The words were forced and painful.
Viper reached down to an ankle sheath and drew a second dagger just as the Draconian began to charge. The Baaz jumped and threw his full weight onto Vipers chest, knocking him to the ground. Then he went to bite down on the Ranger's throat.
The Draconian suddenly gagged and rolled over. Lodged in his throat was the first dagger; the second had buried itself in his chest. The Draconian stared over at Viper, who was still lying on the ground, and let out a gargled hiss as his crimson eyes dimmed and he died.
Viper struggled to his feet and began making his way through the woods, knowing only that he would die no matter where he ended up, but he had to end up somewhere other than here.
Archer found himself by the Moonlit lake, facing the Draconian. He raised his blade. Come, come, let us play.
The Baaz chuckled and began to approach Archer. Time to test your skill, Dragon Knight.
Archer stood ready and waited. The Baaz circled a few times before attacking. He brought the scimitar down and Archer easily blocked. The Baaz brought the blade down for a mid-level attack that was blocked as well. Archer jumped back and allowed another swing to miss before starting his attack. He brought his blade down on the Draconian's. The Baaz was not prepared for so strong a blow and fell back to the ground. Archer jumped on the opportunity and kicked the Draconian's sword arm just below the wrist. The sword fell to the ground some distance away from the two. The disarmed Baaz now found himself with the tip of a blade pressed against his throat.
Cyrius knew he was outmatched. His strength had gone to defense and he was slowing down. With each new attack Pyre brought, Cyrius' chances for a counter attack slowly ebbed away. He was loosing, and to lose meant death. Cyrius just gritted his teeth and chose to go down fighting.
Pyre attacked again, bringing his blade about in a wide arc. Steel collided with steel as Cyrius stopped the blade's flight with his own sword. Pyre laughed and spun, producing a dagger that Cyrius had not noticed before, and soon felt dig into his side. Cyrius fell back and hissed.
You die, Nightstalker! Pyre brought his blade about again, disarming Cyrius.
Just so you know, beast. The name is Cyrius Centrelli, Cyrius pulled the dagger from his side and held it at ready. And when this ends, you will die. He charged with the dagger.
Pyre ducked low with his blade and rammed the flat side of it into Cyrius' gut. This did nothing to lessen the force behind the attack. The dagger came down and buried its blade into the left side of Pyre's back. The Sivak roared and pushed up, throwing Cyrius back. He slashed Cyrius across the chest once, before the black Bozak even hit the ground. Then he walked up to the injured Draconian and drove the blade through his left lung. Cyrius shrieked.
Die slowly, traitor.
Hunter eyed the Sivak and laughed. "No contest. You have no form worth dyeing for, beast."
The Draconian coughed and spat blood. "I still have a sword, Ranger."
The Draconian was wounded to the point of certain death within the hour. Blood seeped from a wound in his side, as well as a large gash in his chest, but despite this, the beast refused to surrender.
Hunter stepped back and lowered his sword. "Last chance to live. Do you take it?"
The Sivak charged. Hunter brought his sword up and swung hard. He cringed as the flat of the blade met squarely with the Draconians chest and several loud cracks could be heard. The Draconian dropped to the ground clutching his chest and screeching. Hunter kneeled to offer a hand, but the Draconian suddenly grabbed him by the throat and would have strangled him, but Hunter drew a small dagger and rammed it into the beast's chest. The Draconian opened his mouth and screamed as he clutched the dagger. Hunter turned and left the Draconian to die alone.
Archer was staring down at his prisoner, contemplating what to do when he heard the shriek.
That will be your friend dyeing.
Archer hissed and delivered a kick across the Baaz's face. Say that again, I dare you.
The traitor is dead.
Archer pulled the Draconian to his feet and pressed his face against a tree while he used the Baaz's belt to bind his hands. "Vret a druek cutnek hai. Dea?"
Lead the way. The Baaz hissed.
Archer pushed him forward. Move.
Viper fell and let out a shout. He could see his brother ahead, fighting with a Draconian and apparently winning. He pulled himself back to his feet. He was slowly dyeing and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. His brother was done now, and leaving. Viper let out a desperate cry, hoping Hunter would hear. His brother stopped and turned.
"Allan!" Hunter ran through the trees to his brother and caught him as he began to fall. "Oh, no Allan, don't do this to me, please."
"Hunter," Allan coughed. "I got him just as good as he got me, if not better."
"Ah, no Allan, not now, not yet." Hunter felt a tear fall down his cheek. "We'll find someone who can help you, come on, lean on me and try to stand." Allan shook his head, but said nothing. "I'll get him, I'll get em all. They will pay, I swear."
"Good bye, brother."
Hunter started to say something, but Allan died right there in his arms. A rush of tears came to him and he stayed there, in the rain, and he picked up his brother's body and began the long walk to the Pearl Lake.
"Cyrius!" Archer shoved the Baaz aside and ran to his fallen friend.
Cyrius attempted to stand and meet Archer, but fell back down before Archer could reach him.
"Archer, go. Pyre lives, find him."
Archer realized why Cyrius wanted him to leave, but he refused. "Cyrius," He suddenly lost what he had wanted to say.
"Go." The command was no more than a whisper.
Archer stood and ran back to his prisoner. "You will be the first." He drew a dagger and slit the Draconian's throat. "Die slowly." He looked over his shoulder one last time at Cyrius before leaving the clearing.
As he was walking he came upon Cyrius' cloak, and he took it and replaced his own with it, folding up the gray one and stowing it in a pouch at his side. Then he turned and began heading towards the Quiet Tavern at Pearl Lake, knowing he would never see his friend again.
CHAPTER XXXVI
Saren looked up as Archer pushed the door open and stumbled in. "Welcome back, Archer. I almost failed to recognize you in that cloak." She came towards him and worry overtook her. Archer was shaking with each step he took and seemed to be going into shock.
She ran up to him and guided him to the couch. "Archer, what's wrong."
"Dead." He tried to take control of himself. "Cyrius, he's dead." He rested his head in his hands.
"Oh, no. What happened to him."
Archer just shook his head, leaving Saren in silence. She gave the Draconian a hug and stood to go shut the door. Archer looked up and watched her.
"Tell me, was it Pyre?"
Archer nodded. "I tried to stay, but he told me not to. He left to fight alone."
"I am truly sorry..." She looked out the open door. "Hunter?"
Archer stood and walked towards her. "What?"
She ran out into the rain and disappeared. A moment later she returned with someone under her arm, it was Hunter. Archer came to help them.
"What happened?"
Hunter looked up at him and shook his head. "Viper's dead. I found him, but it was too late. Nothing could be done." Hunter looked around. "Where's Cyrius?"
"Pyre killed him."
The room was silent for a moment.
"Hunter, I do believe there is something to be done." Archer loosened his cloak and rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. Rage was slowly replacing grief.
"It is dangerous. If one of the Rangers found you hunting someone-"
"Make me a Ranger."
Hunter shook his head. "It's not that easy. You have to pass an interview, and then someone takes you in as an apprentice for three months."
Archer grinned. "I'll take the chance. I will not let you hunt alone. If you do not want the trouble, then I hunt alone. You will not get in trouble then, will you?"
Hunter looked down at the sleeve of his greatcoat. A crimson stain covered most of the brown. "Let's go. Just remember-"
"Pyre is mine." Archer walked out of the tavern door, leaving the two behind in the tavern. When he had gone ten yards out he turned and yelled back, "Hunter, come on!"
Hunter turned to Saren. "He would make a good Ranger, he has spirit."
Saren nodded. "True, but he is uncontrolled. That is dangerous."
Hunter turned to leave. "I'll do what I can. Though right now we are the same."
CHAPTER XXXVII
Rampage glanced about the tavern, trying to mask his unease. In one dark corner, his eye caught someone waving, motioning him to come. He carefully picked his way through the crowd. Although he was disguised, and although Pyre was in disguise as well, he felt that at any moment the two of them would be found out and killed. Word had spread concerning the death of the Ranger one night ago, and of a friend of the Ranger's brother. A hunt was under way.
"Rampage," Pyre hissed, "don't be so slow."
Rampage sat down across from his commander. "You should try to refrain from using names."
Pyre narrowed his eyes. "Point to the commander."
The tavern's door opened and a cold breeze swept through the room.
"Don't look now, but our old friends have arrived. Just stay cool, and if they come, do not say a word." Pyre adjusted the coat he was wearing and hunched over a mug half emptied of its ale.
"You're not drinking that, are you?" Rampage grinned.
"I despise the stuff. Too…" he searched for a word, "…human."
Rampage cracked a nervous smile and glanced over his shoulder. The Ranger was at the far end of the tavern, but his Draconian friend, the traitor, was slowly making his way to their table, searching each person on the way.
He turned back to Pyre. "What do we do?"
Pyre thought a moment. "Tell you what, you keep an eye on him. If he looks like he's on to us, turn back around and let me know."
Archer was about to turn and start looking in the middle of the tavern when he saw the two. They were sitting, both facing him. One glared at him, stood, and ran out the back of the tavern. The other, upon hearing his friend's departure, stood to run as well, but Archer was on him. He tackled the man and pinned him to the ground.
"Listen up. Your life depends on the answer you give." Archer drew a small dagger and pressed it against the man's throat. "Where is Pyre?"
"I don't know!" The man struggled to break he pin.
Archer shook his head. "Wrong answer." He picked the man up by the collar and slammed him against a wall. "The people are beginning to wonder about me. Show them who you really are."
The man shook his head. Archer rammed the dagger into the man's gut. He doubled over and fell to the floor, clutching the wound.
He let out a hiss. "I wouldn't have done that if I were you."
"Well, I hate to disappoint you but you're not me." Archer reached to pick the man up again.
The man pulled the dagger from is wound and lashed out. The tiny blade caught Archer in the leg, and he fell as it collapsed on him. He felt himself get lifted up by the back of his cloak and thrown against the wall. When he looked up, he found himself staring into the face of an angry Draconian.
Archer chuckled. "Well, now you've done it."
"Done what?" The Draconian drew a crooked bladed dagger and pressed it against the side of Archer's face. "Well? What have I done?"
"Forgot about my friend." Archer grinned.
The Draconian's expression changed completely as he remembered about the Ranger. Hunter came up from behind and slammed the hilt of his blade as hard as he could against the base of the Draconian's skull. The Sivak fell to the ground, grasping his head in pain.
"Thank you." Archer shook Hunter's hand and knelt by the Draconian. "Now then, I'll try again. Where is Pyre?"
Archer looked up at the massive doors to the warehouse, his blade drawn and ready. Hunter was at his side.
"I don't like it." Archer shook his head and nervously looked behind him for some stalker that was not there. "It looks too dark, no windows, no light."
Hunter nodded and ran a hand over the wooden door.
"You know what else?" Archer crouched, resting the tip of the sword's blade in the dirt, and his head on the sword's hilt. "I'm scared." He looked up at Hunter and laughed uneasily.
"There is one thing you've overlooked. The doors let in light and we can leave them open."
Archer shook his head. "That will not help much. Look at the sun, almost right overhead. We'll have light for the first ten feet into the building, after that...." He closed his eyes tightly. "How's your night vision?"
"Last time I checked was with a full moon."
"Well, we all have to put ourselves through the extremes sooner or later. Net auten kahele."
Hunter looked down at him, puzzled. "You lost me there."
"Face your fear." He stood and gripped the handle on the massive door.
Hunter watched as the door slid aside to reveal a seemingly endless expanse of nothingness. From some point in the darkness, a pair of blood red points flashed and glowed briefly before disappearing.
"That'll be Pyre. He is mine. You watch my back." Archer drew his second blade and locked the two together. He held it in the middle by the grip and spun it. "I can't remember the last time I used these two together. Wish me luck." He loosened the dark blue cloak and soon disappeared into the thick darkness.
Hunter took a few steps into the warehouse, but stopped just as the light from outside ended. He hesitated a moment, even when the sounds of a fight started from somewhere within. He took a step out of the light as a cold sweat broke on his forehead. He could see nothing around him. He felt too open, too vulnerable. He stepped back to where he could see, back by the door, and waited.
Archer ducked instinctively and heard the air over his head stir as a blade swept past. He shifted his weight forward and attacked low. Even though he could not see Pyre entirely, he could see the blood red eyes. That was all he needed. Through communication with his eyes, Pyre gave away when he would attack, and so long as Archer watched the eyes, he could not possibly lose sight of his adversary.
His attack soon lost momentum, and that meant it was Pyre's turn to counter attack. Archer jumped back, barely missing a blade aimed for his chest, but then had to duck as the second blade swung around at his head. He lost sight of Pyre's eyes. For the first time ever, a true sense of panic fell over him, and he blindly jabbed into the air. Pyre knocked the blade aside. Archer jumped to his feet, detaching the blades as he did so, and attacked again. This time, however, his first attack was a feign, meant to drive Pyre into a trap. He jabbed with his left hand blade, and then turned and brought his right hand blade in a wide arc that cut through the area where it was most probable Pyre would be.
The blade was deflected and Pyre spun around the blade, bringing his thin stiletto around and driving it straight behind him. He grinned as he felt it dig into something. Archer screamed, but the scream was strained and broken as he fell to the warehouse floor. Pyre pulled the stiletto free and turned his gaze towards the open door.
Hunter strained to see why the fight had suddenly ended. He was growing impatient and tired of standing by the door, yet he could not urge himself to step into the depths of the warehouse. Everything in his mind told him not to. He jumped as he heard a low laugh. It was close by. He brought his blade up.
"Pyre, I presume." He looked into the darkness. Again two blood red, glowing spots stared out at him. Where was Archer? He began to worry for his friend's well being.
"Step into my lair."
Hunter gritted his teeth. "Come into the light, why don't you."
"I would, but it is a pain to have to let my eyes readjust. Besides, the dark is fun, it adds an extra level of challenge." The eyes blinked. "Oh, I have something for you."
Something flew out of the darkness and landed in a heap by Hunter's feet. It was the tattered remains of Archer's cloak, and half of it was matted with blood.
"Your friend, he might need help. It may seem odd, but I actually recommend you enter." The voice was moving to the left. "Don't believe me? Here, just look at what I have."
There was a glint of metal and a small object landed in the midst of the ruined cloak. Hunter bent down and picked it up. It was a brooch, fashioned into the shape of a dragon. The silver body had two emerald wings spread and flight ready, and two sapphire blue eyes. Hunter looked again at where he thought the eyes had been, but only to find they were gone.
"I'll give you a choice, Hunter." The voice was behind him.
Hunter turned and faced the Draconian. "What is it?"
"You can go rescue your friend, or leave him to die and go after me. Remember, your friend needs help, but I am responsible for your brother's death. Your choice, but remember, revenge is the nature of all that are able to fight back. You did love your brother, did you not?" Pyre laughed and began walking away.
Hunter turned his gaze from Pyre, to the warehouse, and then back again. Without a second thought, he turned and disappeared into the gaping doors, leaving Pyre to walk away. The laugh echoed within the warehouse walls, and later in Hunter's mind as he began searching for his friend.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
Archer awoke from a dreamless sleep and found himself laid out on the couch in the now familiar Quiet Tavern. The tavern was empty, in its usual way, and after a quick look around he soon found that Saren and himself were the only occupants. He started to sit up, but a sharp pain in the left side of his chest kept him from doing so.
"Saren, where is Hunter?" He looked over at her. She was busy cleaning glasses and organizing the bar. He asked again. "Saren?"
She looked up and smiled. "You're up! Good. You slept for a while, I was beginning to worry. Welcome back, though I don't recommend you move about too much."
"Yes, I realized that too." He rubbed his chest. "Where is Hunter?"
"Oh, he's off at some annual officer's meeting with the other Ranger commanders." Archer gave her a curious look. "Well," she started, "they are deciding on candidates for apprenticeship. He's trying to get you in."
"How nice of him." Archer tried to sit up again, only this time he went slower and was successful. "Are you expecting a big crowd?" He gestured towards a stack of freshly cleaned glasses.
"No, you actually missed the crowd while you were off hunting Pyre. It was busy, the tavern was full. I had to call in a little extra help." She finished drying a glass and set it aside. "Archer, Cyrius told me a lot about himself, but I know near to nothing about you. You wouldn't mind sharing a bit about yourself, would you?"
"Well, what would you like to know about me?"
"Well, you could start by telling me where you are from." She came out from behind the bar and pulled a chair up next to the couch.
"Well, the truth is I don't really know where I'm from. Draconians are, in a sense, homeless until they die. Before we even see our own family we are taken from the nest by thieves."
"Oh, I see. That seems a bit rough on, well, a lot of people."
Archer shook his head. "Not as many as you would think. The ones who suffer most are the parents. They never see their hatchling again. If they do it is usually during battle, and one or both end up dead, neither knowing who the other is. The Draconians really could care less.
"It was a bit different with me, though. I did not care until I raided a dragon's den. Cyrius' battalion, led by Pyre, had chosen our group, and me to head the attack. I never fully understood why me, but never cared to ask. Cyrius' group was set to attack a nearby den as well. The two families were close friends and would come to one another's aide if called upon, without hesitation. The two attacks were set to happen simultaneously, and they did. Cyrius' group was beaten." He paused. "Ours was a complete success. Both Callystrins were killed, Celeste and Stryker.
"During his battle, Cyrius turned and fought alongside the two dragons. I ordered the two to death, and killed one myself. Before she died, she told me something. She knew who I was, or thought she did. I killed her. Stryker died soon thereafter. I followed some instructions that Celeste had given me. It was this event that led me to turn to the Dragon Knights.
"Now, some things that I have discovered and investigated lead me to believe that I attacked and killed my own parents. I found some journals, most were in elfin, but a few in basic. In them it tells of one of her four eggs being stolen, the only male. During the theft another was destroyed."
Silence followed his words and stood for a moment, before Saren broke it. "So what brought you to this place?"
"I found Eleanor, one of the two surviving Callystrins, she currently lives in the Mirkilains, by the Freterton River, and is caring for the Callystrin home. Her sister, named Alyse, lives in Fetare. She is why I am here."
"So she could be your sister." She grinned. "I know her."
CHAPTER XXXVIV
Hunter stood and made his way to the front of the conference hall. He focused not on the task ahead of him, but on trying to make his stride and manner purposeful. It was his turn to propose a candidate who would be among a hundred others. Of those, only ten would be picked for apprenticeship and admission into the Rangers. As he approached the front of the hall, he slowed his pace. Now his mind went to telling himself why he was here.
Remember that he is good enough to rise to the top. Archer is not worthy of becoming a Ranger, the Rangers are honored enough to be able to have him. He turned to face the other officers and the ruling judges who would decide if Archer was eligible or not. He has a better cause than all of the others out there. He grinned crookedly and began.
"Second Commander Jim Hunter VonBurace, reporting that I have found a highly qualified subject who I find to be more than just merely suitable for apprenticeship under any of the Ranger fields. He is highly skilled, loyal to the cause, and has no trouble taking or giving orders that are wisely thought out. He is capable of assessing a situation and finding a way to overcome all obstacles presented. Personal fears and discomforts do not affect his reliability, or his ability to handle a situation. He is alert, always ready, and brings a certain aura of kindness with him wherever he goes." Hunter paused for a deep breath of fresh air. "There is, however, one problem that he cannot overcome. He is a Sivak Draconian."
There was a widespread and mixed response from the assembly.
"Mister VonBurace, Judge Witaker speaking, are you suggesting that we allow one of the most problematic troublemakers known into our ranks?"
Hunter locked eyes with the judge. "He is not a troublemaker, and he is not problematic. He despises all the Draconians stand for."
The Judge Witaker tapped a finger against his desk. "If he is not even loyal to his own kind, what makes you think he will be loyal to you, or the Rangers?"
"It is not a matter of being loyal to his kind, or our kind. He is against the ways that his kind traditionally takes, and is a member of the Dragon Knight army in the Mirkilains." He smirked. "Might I add, he is an honorable member of the Dragon Knights. As to loyalty towards me and his own, he is my friend, was my brother's friend, and shared this friendship with another who, unfortunately, died the same night as my brother, and for the same reason. He fought against what he knew was wrong. If you do not take Archer as a candidate, I will use my replacement request and have him fill the space left by my brother. Archer wants to be a Ranger, wants to fight for the cause just as much as any of you seated here today, if not more so than some. There is nothing he would do to betray us, to bring us down, or to shame us in any way. Moreover, had his friend, Cyrius, been alive I would not hesitate to name him as a second candidate. Archer is like a brother to me. If it means anything, I trust him with my life."
Hunter bowed, showing he had finished. He walked calmly back to his seat, keeping the same manner and purpose as he had tried to keep while going up. Then he sat and listened as forty others presented their candidates.
When the candidates had been listed, the votes were taken. Each officer chose ten names of candidates and wrote them on a paper. The votes were collected and counted by the judges. The results would be announced in one hour, giving the officers time to mingle and rest.
Hunter made his way through the crowds, listening carefully and trying to hear if any votes for Archer had been cast. He spent his hour doing this, searching through the slowly dwindling crowd.
When the count was completed, a bell summoned the officers back to the hall. They took the seats they had before and waited for the results to be announced. Hunter watched as one of the judges, it so happened to be Witaker, took a sheet of paper and started making his way to the front of the hall.
"The ten candidates that have been chosen are as follows." He cleared his throat. "Michael Tannden. Adam Just. William Rhymer. Alyse Callystrin. Katie Heartfield. Justin Tyler. Alec Gillden. Henery Gilldomere. Daniel Guilar." He stopped and looked at the last name on the list. His eyes shot up at the other judges. One of them gave a nod and grinned as he waved a hand, prompting the announcer to continue. "And Archer Centrelli. That is all."
The judge crumbled the paper and charged down the aisle towards the other judges. As Hunter made his way out of the hall he could not but help noticing that Witaker was arguing with the judge who had apparently made the last decision. When Hunter passed by the two, the judge nodded his head and mouthed 'good luck' before returning to the argument with Witaker.
CHAPTER IL
Hunter pushed the door open and stepped into the tavern. Archer was back on his feet already, and was slowly moving about the tavern delivering drinks to a few customers that had wandered in. Saren was behind the bar idly balancing a mug on one end. She looked up upon hearing the door open and grinned at Hunter.
"How did the meeting go?" She came out from behind the bar to meet him.
"Well, quite good, actually." He motioned back at Archer. "Did you make him do that?"
"No, the oddest thing. He volunteered. He claims it is some new concept where you do something without being asked." She laughed. "I'm joking, but he really did volunteer. If you want my opinion, he should be back to normal just outside of a week."
"Well, I still wish we knew more about that than we do. If you will excuse me for a moment." He made his way across the room and came up alongside Archer. "Welcome back to the world of the living, friend."
Archer grinned. "I never left it. So, how did the meeting go?"
"Well, there were about one hundred and twenty candidates, and you know that they only pick ten, right?"
Archer rolled his eyes. "Who won?"
"Call me an idiot, but I only remember one name. It caused quite an argument among the judges." He gripped Archer's shoulder. "Welcome aboard. You are my new apprentice."
Archer acted slightly disappointed. "You mean I have to learn from you? Please, anyone but you." Archer laughed and gave Hunter a quick hug. "Ha! Thank you so much, you cannot believe how much I wanted the spot. So, really, who else was picked?"
"Oh, you most likely would have never heard of them."
Archer shrugged. "Who cares? I still like knowing."
Hunter shook his head. "Well, an old friend of mine, goes by the name Rhymer, he got picked. He is working under an old knight, I forget his name." He thought a moment. "Oh yes, and then there was Henry Gilldomere. He is working under Saren. She just does not know that yet."
"Gilldomere?" Archer inquired. Hunter nodded. "I knew a Lady by that name. She died in battle during a siege. Cyrius was there. She was a good friend. I wonder, do you know if there might be any relation between the two?"
"It is a big world out there." Hunter shrugged apologetically before continuing. "The other names escape me for the moment, but you will meet them all soon. But...oh I should be able to remember some of them." He rapped a knuckle on a nearby table. "There was one lady, her name began with...." He stopped, trying to remember.
"Do you at least know her last name?"
"Yes, Cally...." He shook his head. "Collenstin. I believe."
Saren overheard. "It would not happen to be Emma Collenstein would it?" She asked.
"No, it was not Emma, and it was not one of those 'ein' names, it ended with 'in.' I am positive of that."
Archer furrowed his brow. Hunter's first response to the last name caused him to lose himself in thought. He mumbled something to himself. Hunter apparently overheard.
"Excuse me?"
Archer repeated what he had thought. "Callystrin? Was the name Callystrin?"
Hunter repeated the name silently to himself a few times before nodding. "That seems right, more so than Collenstin. Do you know her?"
"What was her first name? Please, Hunter, you have to remember."
Hunter closed his eyes and tried to run through the final minutes of the meeting.
"Alyse." He finally said. "Alyse Callystrin. Now I ask again, do you know her?"
Archer grinned as he shot a glance up at Saren. "Not yet."
"How do you know her, then?"
Archer shook his head. "Long story. Hey, why not tell Saren the good news?"
Saren looked at Hunter quizzically. "What good news?"
"They assigned you an apprentice."
Saren shook her head. "I though I told you to tell them I was through with the apprentices." She turned away and went back behind the bar. "I won't take him."
"Saren, just hear the name and think about what I was telling you today." He grinned at Hunter. "Go ahead, tell her."
"His name is Henry Gilldomere."
Saren switched her gaze from Hunter to Archer. "Any relation to your friend?"
Archer shrugged. "I don't know yet, but I plan on finding out."
Saren nodded. "Fine, I'll take him. But you have to do one thing for me, Hunter."
Hunter braced himself. "What?"
"For the next two weeks, you help Archer and I mind the tavern. Now hurry up, a table on your half just became occupied."
Hunter groaned and looked over his shoulder at Archer as he made his way to the table. "How did you put up with an entire day of this?"
"Easily. I just forgot about the work, and enjoyed the conversation. You would not believe the questions some people have for a Draconian."
He grinned and turned to clear some empty glasses off a table. Hunter hung about, trying to avoid waiting on the table, until an icy stare from Saren caught his gaze. He submitted and slowly made his way over to the table.
CHAPTER L
Rain flooded Fetare yet again. This time, however, things were worse. A large storm had brewed of the southern coast and was slowly creeping inland. Strong winds that came with the storm were uprooting trees and leveling towns. Boats that had been tied up in harbor were sunk, capsized, or destroyed. Night conquered day and darkness settled on the island. Once more, using the foul weather and starless night for cover, Pyre looked towards the only thing that would please him. The death of the traitor.
He walked without a light, letting his blood red eyes become accustomed to the dark. He was as silent as the forest around him, and the only thing that gave away his presence, besides his glowing eyes, was the occasional flash of light from a lightning bolt. This slight inconvenience was shrugged aside, however. He would not let anything disturb his plans.
He had been waiting for a starless night to strike, a window of opportunity to begin his carefully thought out revenge. Over the past weeks, his small army had been hunted down and destroyed. Some fled the island, some died, but some remained. He still had a few loyal to him, but the enemy's sting was being felt. He came to a stop.
Up ahead, lights were shining through the trees. He grinned and drew his blade, not the one given to him by Cyrius, but Cyrius' own blade, taken after his death. He continued on his walk. The lights drew nearer, and now he could see that the tavern was not completely empty. Shadows that had living owners crossed by.
A soft hiss escaped him, but he continued on, undaunted. In fact, he welcomed some challenge. He was now out of the forest. Ahead of him, far of in the distance, a lightning bolt played across a lake. He admired the blue streak for a moment, before it died. To him it seemed a shame that something so destructive could only live for so short a while. Nevertheless, the time for sympathy was over. It was time to kill.
He slowly stepped up to the tavern door and reached out for it. He played his claws over a small wooden design whose meaning meant nothing to him; just wanting to tear the door down and rush in, possessed by a mad rage. However, that would be foolish. He brought his hand back to his side and silently rested the side of his head against the door.
Archer finished clearing the table and brought the empty glasses back to the bar. It had been a slow night, but that could be expected because of the storm. Now, the only remaining customers, were both drunk and having shouting matches. Archer just hoped they would leave.
Once he reached the bar, he set the glasses down and gave Saren a tired look.
"How long until they leave?"
Saren shrugged and began cleaning the glasses. "Do they want anything else?"
Archer shook his head. "I am willing to bet that even if they did, they would not be able to order."
Saren laughed. "Well, in that case I'll just tell Jim to close the cellar, no need to keep it open if it's not going to be used."
She stopped work on the glasses and disappeared into the back room. Archer rested his head on his hands and closed his eyes. It had been a long day. Hunter and himself had been asked to follow up a distress call in some town. When they had arrived, they found an enraged Bozak tearing up some shops. It was easily taken care of, though, but the fight had left Archer short of breath. Nothing else Ranger related happened that day. There was a small bar fight in the tavern that had to be put down, and that was a challenge. It took the better part of an hour to get them outside. Now there was only these two.
He heard the door open and a cold breeze filled the room. He turned, hoping to find the two drunks gone. The door was wide open, and they were passed out at their table. Archer became uneasy, but told himself that the wind was responsible for pushing the door open. He slowly walked over to the open door, looked outside for anyone who might have been there, and closed the door and, after a second thought, latched it.
He relaxed slightly and turned towards the bar. How long does it take Saren to lock the cellar? He made his way across the room, suddenly becoming completely aware of everything around him. Every creak and groan the tavern issued seemed too loud to be natural. Footsteps and noises came from nowhere and had no owner other than his own mind. His senses were on full alert.
He stepped behind the bar and went through the doorway into the back room. From here, he had a choice. Either he could take the hallway in front of him that led to the guestrooms, or he could take the stairs up to Saren's room and the attic, or he could take another staircase down into the storage cellar. He stepped towards the cellar, but halted at the top of the staircase.
"Hunter! Are you down there?" The call went without an answer.
Archer turned away from the cellar and looked down the hall. He was still undecided on where to go. Every choice seemed like it led to a different doom.
"Archer,"
He jumped. It was Saren.
"Sorry." She laughed. "There was a terrible leak in the cellar, Hunter is working on patching it up." She eyed him curiously. "Did they leave yet?"
He shook his head. "They passed out."
Saren rolled her eyes and turned to re-enter the tavern. She got as far as the door and stopped abruptly with a scream. Archer ran to her side and saw it immediately. Both of the drunks were dead, their throats slit. Archer instinctively reached to his side, but remembered he had left his swords in his room. He ran back down the hall and fetched them. He drew the blades, leaving the sheaths behind, and ran back to the tavern entrance. Saren was still there.
"Saren, go get Hunter. I'll check the tavern."
She nodded and disappeared down the cellar stairs. Archer took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway.
With his swords in the lead, he crept to the table where the two were sitting, dead, and searched for any sign that would lead to who ever had done it. There was none. The sound of glass crashing to the ground caused him to turn towards the bar. There was writing across the back wall in Drakoník, the letters written in the blood of the two who had been killed. The dialect was familiar, but slightly different from that which Archer was familiar with, and it took him a while to translate it. When the message had been processed, he said it quietly to himself.
Just at that moment, Hunter entered the room. He grimly eyed the table before turning to the message.
"What does it say?"
Archer shot him a side-glance before answering. "Vengeance is mine."
"If I knew him half as well as I do, he is still here."
Archer looked back at his friend and furrowed his brow. "Your sword, where is it?"
"I left it in the room."
Archer handed him one of his own.
Pyre kept a low profile in the rafters over their heads and forced himself not to laugh. They were making it too easy. He almost hated having to be silent. He waited until their backs were turned before he checked the rope he had attached to a rafter and, satisfied it would hold his weight, swung down and landed on the floor behind Hunter without a sound. Now came the fast part. He unsheathed his sword, cut the rope down, and wrapped the rope around Hunter's throat.
Archer heard his friend drop the sword and turned. The sight before him made his blood run cold. Pyre laughed and threw the struggling Ranger into the bar head first, knocking him out cold.
Ready to die? It is just you and me. Pyre raised his blade.
Archer readied to defend himself and locked eyes with Pyre. There was a lack of sanity that seemed to be reflected in them and it made Archer nervous. He tried to control himself.
Finally, after all this time, a fair fight. Pyre laughed. Well, only fair if I failed to wound you last time. He charged.
Archer deflected the attack and turned as Pyre tried to attack from behind. Again, the blow was knocked aside. To Archer, it seemed that with each attack, insanity took a stronger hold on Pyre. The attacks became bolder, more reckless, but strong none the less. Then things went downhill.
A lucky elbow to his chest started Archer in a light coughing fit that distracted him long enough for Pyre to slam the bottom of his swords grip right where Archer's wound had finished healing. The blow was stronger than it should have been. Archer fell to the ground and coughed again; this time he tasted blood. Pyre laughed darkly as he picked his opponent up by the neck and pressed his blade to Archer's throat.
Oh, do not be so surprised. You see, you can no longer breath like normal living things. You have a damaged lung. Pyre threw Archer against a wall and slammed a fist into his chest. The Sivak doubled over in pain. Do not think I let you live in the warehouse without crippling you first.
Archer focused on controlling his cough. Do Not think.... He stopped to catch his breath.
Pyre leaned down next to Archer. Don't think what?
Archer locked eyes with Pyre and smiled, a small trickle of blood falling from the corner of his mouth. Do Not think Cyrius' death will go unpunished.
Pyre feigned a look of horror. Who is going to avenge the death of the Nightstalker?
Me.
Archer summoned up what remaining strength he had and rammed his fist into Pyre's stomach. The Draconian doubled over and Archer grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him up. Archer's strength ebbed away, yet he stared into Pyre's eyes with a grim determination, his mind set on one goal.
Go ahead. Kill me.
The time will come. You will die from your deeds, but not by my hands.
Pyre pulled away from Archer and retrieved his sword. You disappoint me. Before you, at your mercy, was one who killed your friend. Pyre sheathed the sword. He killed another friend's brother. He killed two who took you in and cared for you. He even used you to kill your own. He sent you to kill the Callystrins. You succeeded, but not entirely. I had to do a little cleaning up. Now there are only two. Pyre laughed and started walking towards the door. Would you like others whom you care for to die because you set me free? He turned to face Archer again. Or will you change your mind and stop me right now. Just make one attack and end it. Your choice. Ignorance, or revenge. Pyre folded his wings around him like a cloak and opened the door. You will soon know the consequences of your decision.
The door slammed shut and Archer collapsed, out of energy and breath. His chest ached and his mind was confused. What did I do? I let him live! He reached up and dug his claws into the wall to help pull himself up. Why? He collapsed into a nearby chair and waited for order to restore itself.
He heard a groan and looked to Hunter who was just coming to.
"I am going to have this headache for a long time." Hunter glanced at Archer. "What happened?"
"He left."
Hunter looked around the tavern. "Where is Saren?"
The question struck Archer for the first time and he shrugged. "Do me a favor, find her. I can't...I mean, I need to catch my breath."
Hunter gave a nod and disappeared into the back room. When he returned, fifteen minutes later, his face was grim and solemn. In his hand was a note. He handed it to Archer.
Archer, I told you that you would regret doing what you did. Now another is dead without justice. It almost pains me to think that you, of all people, would have done such a thing. But you know what? I hate being right.
Your dearest enemy,
Pyre Darkblade.
Archer crumbled up the note and looked up at the message that had been left over the bar. He read the words over and over, letting them imprint themselves in his mind. He slowly took the message in as his own, silently making it his battle cry.
-Cyrius Centrelli
PART FOUR
CHAPTER XXXII
Archer leaned against one of the wooden rails of the boat as he silently urged the vessel to move faster. The voyage was a bit costly, and long, the ship having gone to three ports along the side of the Mirkilains before actually starting to go out towards Fallaci. Now things were underway and Fetare was beginning to dominate Archer's thoughts. He began to think of the day and night paintings of the Blue Falls and stretched his imagination beyond the paintings. He visualized an almost never-ending expanse of forest, stretching onward until it reached the water's edge. Peeking over the treetops every now and then were small towns, each full of people working.
Someone ran into him hard and broke the image. He glanced around quickly for whoever it may have been and saw a green cap with a single red leather strap disappear down one of the hatches. It took him a while to remember that the hat belonged to one of the crewmen. He shrugged it off and turned towards the sea. Once he was facing the water, he became aware of another figure in the corner of his eye. He tried to study it without letting the person notice. From what he could tell the figure was clad in a brown greatcoat, leather armor underneath. The figure was sitting and in his lap was a rusted broadsword. It was at this point in his observations Archer realized the figure was staring directly at him.
He wanted to pull the hood of his cloak over his head, but then he would not be able to see the person watching him. Not thinking of anything better, he began to make his way towards the bow of the boat. He heard footsteps behind him. Archer pulled the hood over his head and quickened his pace until he had reached the fore most point of the deck, near the pulpit in the bow. The footsteps continued softly for a moment and then stopped. Archer turned and looked behind him. No one was there.
The bow of the boat picked up and dropped suddenly as a series of large swells drifted by. Spray flew over the side railings and stung his face. Most of what came his way soaked into his cloak, making the air around him chill. Archer ignored it all and searched for whoever had followed him. The only people on deck were crewmen, none of them carried more than a dagger and all wore light clothing, no coats. Archer growled to himself and tuned to hold onto the bow railings as another set of swells rolled under the boat. In front of him was a black metal, crooked dagger that was pinning a piece of paper to the wooden rail. He tore the paper from the dagger and read it.
I remember you. See if you remember me. Find me first, if you can. If you do not find me on the boat, I will find you in Fetare.
He looked behind him and saw nothing. Then looked up. Tied to one of the standing ropes was a white cloth with red writing on it. He climbed unsteadily up to it and untied the cloth. The writing was in blood and said: I already found Flame, and later Flare. You and your friend cannot hide from me.
A chill ran down his spine as he let the cloth fly in the wind down to the water. He dropped down to the deck, landing hard as a breaking wave under the bow sent the boat rising up to meet him. He took the dagger that was embedded in the ship's rail and went in to the nearest hatch.
The hall that stretched before him creaked loudly with the ship's rocking as he made his way down it. He could hear the water hit the thick hull as the hall rocked up and down and side to side. It was too much for him. His mind did not agree with the surroundings and began to play tricks on his eyes. Shadows fell and lights darkened, blacking out the path before him so he could not see more than a few feet in front of him. Each wooden door he passed had voices behind it, laughing. He had to constantly tell himself the sounds were only the ship's creaking, and the lights had not dimmed. Still he could not see down the dark hallway. He suddenly became short of breath and had to stop. His mind told him the oxygen in the hall was gone, used up by everyone who had entered it before him. He had to find a way out.
He saw a pinpoint of light behind him, where he had entered this nightmare, and began to run towards it. Each time the boat rocked, he lost his balance and stumbled. His mind would scream at him, warn him about the lack of oxygen and tell him not to stop until he picked himself back up and began to run again. It took him longer to reach the hatch than he had expected. Once he could, he pulled himself out and onto the ship's deck. Gasping for air he turned and looked down the hallway he had just left. It was brightly lit and he could see clearly down it until it turned about twenty feet away. He turned from the hatch and saw another note, pinned by a simple dagger.
Scared yet? Give me back my dagger.
He held the crooked dagger in front of him and stared at it. Then he read the note again and without a second thought threw the dagger into the hallway as far as he could. Then he watched, stunned and unable to move, as a figure, hidden by shadows and a brown greatcoat, picked up the dagger, saluted, and disappeared down the hall.
CHAPTER XXXIII
Cyrius watched from the cliffs as a trade ship made its way into Fetare Harbor and docked. He could see several tiny specks swarm the decks, moving small boxes about. Only two seemed to not be doing anything, one of them was lost from view almost as soon as it left the boat, the other lingered about the docks. Curious, Cyrius glided towards the docks. The figures began to take shape as he drew closer to them, and now Cyrius could see the figure he had been watching was wearing a gray cloak, it was also significantly taller than the rest. He landed on the far side of the dock, drew his blue cloak tight about him, and picked his way through the crowded dock.
Archer groaned. Fetare was not what he had been expecting, and now he had Pyre to worry about as well. He had tried to find him after the boat had docked but.... He glanced down the dock. Someone was heading towards him, clad in a dark blue cloak. Archer grinned.
"Archer!" The cloaked figure waved.
"Cyrius. How have you been?"
"Fairly well, what are you doing here?"
"I should ask you that. How did you find this place?"
"Remember Tryst'n? The map room had this island listed."
"Cyrius, we have trouble." Archer glanced around. "Show me around and I'll tell you about it."
Cyrius nodded and began walking towards the Port Town.
"Pyre is here. I saw him on the trade ship. He killed Flare."
Cyrius hissed. "Finding him on the island will be hard."
"No, it will not. He will find us. Show me about the island, will you? I am anxious to see if this Fetare is all I have heard it to be." He glanced behind him nervously before urging Cyrius on.
Pyre watched the two leave from the tavern window. He chuckled silently. Archer, Fetare will never be what you expected. He stood and left the tavern. Not as long as I am here.
He made his way down a dirt road to a small warehouse and slipped in through one of the open doors.
"Old friends, I return." He called out into the darkness. Four pairs of eyes lit up and turned to face his direction.
"So, the leader returns." A voice in the darkness commented, almost in a sarcastic manner.
"I told you I would not leave you here." Pyre's response was crisp.
One of the pairs of eyes approached the light, becoming a Bozak wielding a sharp blade. "Look around you, Pyre, we are all that is left, plus a few hiding elsewhere. I can count out our numbers with a single hand."
Pyre stepped towards the Bozak. "But I am back, and a new challenge comes with me. A Sivak and a Bozak, both traitors."
"We will not take orders from you anymore, Pyre." Blaze rasped.
"Speak for yourself, Blaze. The rest of us are quite ready to follow him."
Blaze turned and hissed at the unseen speaker.
"You see," Pyre took a step towards the Bozak. "Blaze, they still wish to follow me. You have a single chance to change your mind."
There was a flash and the Bozak fell to the ground, clutching a gash in his stomach. Pyre laughed and pointed his scimitar down at Blaze's throat. "Oh, too late."
"You will die here, Pyre. I guarantee that."
Pyre wiped his blade clean and sheathed it. "Kill him." He turned and found a high perch to watch the execution while planning for the task that was ahead.
CHAPTER XXXIV
Pyre drew the hood of his gray cloak further over his head. There was no need for anyone to be able to doubt what was happening. At his side was a silver blade. He had stolen it from Flare after she died, and now it was about to betray the reasons for which it had been made. The only flaw he saw with his plan was in that his eyes were not amber, but that was a minor detail nobody would bother to notice.
In spite of the confidence he held in his plan, there were always a few small doubts that slowed his pace, but then, when he told himself that they could only happen in worse case scenarios, he would increase his pace to a near jog. Then another doubt would fall like a shadow and he would stop to think it through. By the time he reached the tavern, he had already thought through twenty scenarios, all of them having something extreme go wrong. As he pushed the door open and entered the smoke filled room, he hoped he was ready.
The silence that accompanied his entrance was so great he could hear his claws clack against the wooden floorboards. He almost wanted to laugh, but fear of having someone use his voice to identify him was too great. Instead, he grinned as he slowly slipped a hand under his cloak towards the sheathed blade while he approached his first victim.
There was a flash, and a shout as the first fell, leaving Pyre in the center of the tavern, his bloodstained blade drawn and ready, while he searched out others. The sound of steel sliding from sheath could be heard ringing from several spots in the tavern, and Pyre prepared himself for a fight.
The first attack came from the front and high. Pyre sidestepped and caught his attacker under the ribs with his own blade, taking him out of the fight for good. The second fell to a ducking jab to the chest, and a third dropped to the ground as Pyre pulled his talons from the man's stomach. Everything was going well.
"Sivak. Fight me, I dare ye."
Pyre turned and faced the challenger. Before him stood a tall, strong looking knight, a broadsword drawn and ready in his hand. The knight had locked his own brown eyes directly on Pyre's blood red. Pyre just nodded and attacked.
The knight was fast and a formidable opponent, but Pyre knew he would win. Even though the knight was skilled, he was falling back step by step. After a brief defensive, Pyre caught the knight in the side with his blade. The knight doubled over and Pyre slammed the flat of his blade against the side of the knight's head. The knight fell to the ground and did not get back up.
Pyre turned. One more blade waited for him. This one belonged to a lady standing just over five feet, and had green eyes, both of which were piercing Pyre's own. The lady just grinned.
"If you will, beast. I will take you on." Pyre hissed as she spoke. "You have four seconds to defend yourself, otherwise leave ere I cut you in two." He swallowed the words as he spoke. A faint recognition of who he faced entered into his mind.
Pyre charged suddenly and shoved her to the ground. Then he swung out at one last person, wounding a woman who had been at a table with her husband, and ran out the door.
Alyse groaned and picked herself up off the ground. "Someone look to the wounded, I'll get help."
Hunter stretched and stood, casually glancing out of the window of the tavern. He cast a look over at his brother, who was sleeping soundly on a couch in one corner of the empty room, and chuckled. Things were quiet to day, and he liked it like that.
A sharp knock on the door made him jump. "You know, this is a public tavern, you can enter."
"Sorry, I forgot." A woman entered, out of breath.
Hunter looked the newcomer over. She was a little over five feet, green eyes, and dark hair.
"We need help down at the Crystal Lakes Tavern. Some Draconian made a mess." Alyse stepped toward Hunter, leaving the door open.
"Do you know who it was?"
She shook her head. "No, someone new. I have never seen him before."
Hunter shouted at Viper to wake him up while he began fastening his belt and sword. "Come on, show us the way."
She nodded, turned and ran into Archer. She screamed something, drew her blade and attacked him. Archer jumped back out of the way of the deadly steel and continued to retreat while Hunter tried to assure her everything was all right. Cyrius' belated entrance helped very little. Archer turned to Cyrius to say something and felt something sting his face. He turned back to the crazed woman and stared her directly in the eyes. She stared at him a moment before she lowered the blade.
"Oh, I am so sorry. I thought it was him." She dropped the sword and fell to her knees. "You looked just like him, only he had these red eyes, almost like blood."
Cyrius leaned towards Archer. "Pyre."
Archer nodded and checked the side of his face. A small cut ran a few inches across one cheek, nothing much. "Well, what happened?"
Hunter helped Alyse up while he answered. "He raided a tavern and started a small fight."
"Who did?" Viper came up alongside his brother.
"Pyre." Cyrius turned to walk out. "Where did this happen?"
"The Crystal Lakes Tavern." Hunter answered.
"I'll meet you there. Archer, come with me." He stepped out of the door and came up alongside of Cyrius. We have some hunting to do.
Cyrius nodded in agreement.
Pyre found a spot in a tree to hide out for a short while. His mind was yelling at him.
Of all of the problems to prepare for, why did you miss that one! He hissed and dug his talons into the tree limb. I did not know she would be there! Of all of the places. He looked over his shoulder towards the tavern. "Fete nac therun dacht!" He tried to calm himself down. They are haunting you. The Callystrin family can never die. It seems to be that way. Another! And when she dies, I am certain yet another will come to take her place.
He snarled.
They have been haunting you all your life. You should have known you could not kill them all. At the fronts, they were feared by your troops. When that pitiful attack was made a while ago, you were shocked it was successful, but how successful was it really? Look, he glanced back over his shoulder, yet another lives, and she is stronger than you are.
He drew a dagger and drove it into the tree. "I know! Stop reminding me. Besides, she is not stronger than I am, she is just stronger than I thought she would be." He glanced around to make sure no one had heard and that the area was clear before jumping to the ground.
There is only one solution. Fight to the death. See her dead. Remember, she is the last of the four offspring.
He growled. Not quite, her brother, the Draconian, we cannot be sure what has happened to him.
"Oh, he is dead. Remember, he never returned from the raid on his own family. So what? That means nothing. For all I know he is...." A chill fell over him.
Oh, yet another one found. And he is here, and he is hunting you as we speak. And let us not forget who is with him. Your former friend, Nightstalker.
"It can't be. Not him, not here!"
Do not forget, you just set his sister against him.
Pyre relaxed.
But that is if she is not able to pick the two of you apart. What makes you think she will not be able to tell her own brother from you? Run, before he finds you. Have no doubts that he will kill you.
Pyre was getting nervous and he could not stand it. He took off running.
CHAPTER XXXV
Cyrius drew his blade and hissed softly. Pyre was near, he knew it. The Sivak's scent was lingering in the area. He turned to the other three.
"We need to find him before he attacks again, or finds a hole to hide away in. Archer, you take the Moonlit Lake. Hunter, you stay and look about in this area. Viper, you go to the cliffs. I will check the Crystal Falls. He can't have gone far."
Hunter and Viper nodded and left to go about their search, leaving the two friends alone.
"Cyrius, I can't help but think you've separated them but left us close together on purpose."
"Archer, if he wants the two of us dead, he will strike while we are separated. Our areas are separate enough, but we must remain within earshot of each other, just in case."
Archer nodded and looked up. Rain clouds were gathering on the horizon and moving towards the island fast. Combined with a cold wind that was coming from the west, and the sun slowly disappearing behind the clouds, the effect was chilling as the two made there way to the Moonlit Lake.
"Archer, I never told you before that I enjoy being in your company." Cyrius pulled his cloak tighter about him and pulled the hood back before continuing. "You are one of the few that I consider to be a true friend."
Archer looked over at him. "And Hunter and Viper?"
"They are friends, but I am still getting used to them." Cyrius let out a deep breath that became immediately visible inches in front of his face. "It is getting colder."
Archer noted a slight look of concern on his comrade's face. "What is so odd about cold weather?"
"This is very unlike the weather, to grow so cold so fast. Something is happening." Cyrius was silent a moment. "Archer, did you ever find what you were looking for?"
Archer shook his head. "That is why I came here."
Cyrius drew his hood over his face. "There is another Callystrin on the island."
A lightning bolt flashed in the distance and the rolling thunder soon followed. Rain began to fall. Archer shivered as the cold water and icy winds hit him. "Who is it?"
The inquiry went unanswered. Cyrius had stopped walking and was staring at something ahead, his blood red eye narrowed to a thin slit.
Cyrius drew his blade and looked over at his friend. "Archer, go."
Archer was puzzled for a moment until he looked ahead and saw what his friend had seen. Standing ten yards in front of them was Pyre, a blade matching Cyrius' drawn and ready.
"Cyrius, I can help you. We can take him on together."
"My fight, Archer. I want it to be fair, one on one. Go now." Without another word, Cyrius removed his cloak and began walking to meet his opponent.
Archer stayed a moment longer, just long enough to see the two warriors take a fighting stance. Then he turned to leave and saw another Draconian, a Baaz, wielding a curved scimitar and beckoning him into a fight. Archer drew his blade and bared his teeth in a snarl. The Baaz just laughed and ran. Archer took off in pursuit, leaving Cyrius and Pyre alone.
Hunter poked around his area for a while, finding nothing, until the wind and rains began. He groaned and closed his greatcoat around him in hopes of keeping some warmth in. But what the coat held in, the rains soon took by soaking into the coat and leaving it thoroughly drenched. With an agitated shout, Hunter removed the coat and cast it aside.
"So, the Hunter." The voice was raspy and had a slight serpentine sound to it.
Hunter turned to face whoever was speaking. Before him, with two thin blades drawn, stood a Sivak Draconian challenging the Ranger to a duel. Hunter, being the peacekeeper he was, smiled as he accepted.
"Hunter, I want you to know I have been looking forward to this moment for a long time." The Draconian's voice was raspy and dry.
"Yeah?" Hunter drew his broadsword. "Too bad you won't be able to tell anyone about it."
The Draconian just laughed and raised the two blades. "Let's have at it."
Viper shivered as the cold water and wind stung him. The heavily wooded trail to the lake was dark, and slow going. He had already given up on finding Pyre, guessing that this route was so slow, by the time he was there, Pyre would have left. He sighed.
From off to his right he heard a branch snap. His senses jumped to alert and he drew a dagger. Something snapped again, only on his left. Whatever it was seemed to be quick, and getting closer. He heard it again, behind him and he turned.
He heard a soft thump and staggered backwards. Embedded in his chest was the cold metal shaft of an arrow. His hands trembled as he reached up to pull it out. Something slammed into him from behind and pinned him to the ground, the arrow dug in deeper. He would have screamed or shouted something, but the sudden loss of breath prevented it.
"Tonight, Ranger, you die."
Viper reached out and his hand closed around his dagger. Out of desperation, he swung it behind him as best he could at the weight on his back. The dagger sunk into flesh and whatever it was shrieked and jumped away.
Viper pulled himself to his feet and faced his attacker for the first time. Staring back at him, with two crimson eyes glowing like coals, was a Baaz Draconian. A steady hiss was leaking from between tightly clenched teeth as it clutched the wound in its side.
"Ranger, you will die." The Draconian took a step towards Viper.
"You first." The words were forced and painful.
Viper reached down to an ankle sheath and drew a second dagger just as the Draconian began to charge. The Baaz jumped and threw his full weight onto Vipers chest, knocking him to the ground. Then he went to bite down on the Ranger's throat.
The Draconian suddenly gagged and rolled over. Lodged in his throat was the first dagger; the second had buried itself in his chest. The Draconian stared over at Viper, who was still lying on the ground, and let out a gargled hiss as his crimson eyes dimmed and he died.
Viper struggled to his feet and began making his way through the woods, knowing only that he would die no matter where he ended up, but he had to end up somewhere other than here.
Archer found himself by the Moonlit lake, facing the Draconian. He raised his blade. Come, come, let us play.
The Baaz chuckled and began to approach Archer. Time to test your skill, Dragon Knight.
Archer stood ready and waited. The Baaz circled a few times before attacking. He brought the scimitar down and Archer easily blocked. The Baaz brought the blade down for a mid-level attack that was blocked as well. Archer jumped back and allowed another swing to miss before starting his attack. He brought his blade down on the Draconian's. The Baaz was not prepared for so strong a blow and fell back to the ground. Archer jumped on the opportunity and kicked the Draconian's sword arm just below the wrist. The sword fell to the ground some distance away from the two. The disarmed Baaz now found himself with the tip of a blade pressed against his throat.
Cyrius knew he was outmatched. His strength had gone to defense and he was slowing down. With each new attack Pyre brought, Cyrius' chances for a counter attack slowly ebbed away. He was loosing, and to lose meant death. Cyrius just gritted his teeth and chose to go down fighting.
Pyre attacked again, bringing his blade about in a wide arc. Steel collided with steel as Cyrius stopped the blade's flight with his own sword. Pyre laughed and spun, producing a dagger that Cyrius had not noticed before, and soon felt dig into his side. Cyrius fell back and hissed.
You die, Nightstalker! Pyre brought his blade about again, disarming Cyrius.
Just so you know, beast. The name is Cyrius Centrelli, Cyrius pulled the dagger from his side and held it at ready. And when this ends, you will die. He charged with the dagger.
Pyre ducked low with his blade and rammed the flat side of it into Cyrius' gut. This did nothing to lessen the force behind the attack. The dagger came down and buried its blade into the left side of Pyre's back. The Sivak roared and pushed up, throwing Cyrius back. He slashed Cyrius across the chest once, before the black Bozak even hit the ground. Then he walked up to the injured Draconian and drove the blade through his left lung. Cyrius shrieked.
Die slowly, traitor.
Hunter eyed the Sivak and laughed. "No contest. You have no form worth dyeing for, beast."
The Draconian coughed and spat blood. "I still have a sword, Ranger."
The Draconian was wounded to the point of certain death within the hour. Blood seeped from a wound in his side, as well as a large gash in his chest, but despite this, the beast refused to surrender.
Hunter stepped back and lowered his sword. "Last chance to live. Do you take it?"
The Sivak charged. Hunter brought his sword up and swung hard. He cringed as the flat of the blade met squarely with the Draconians chest and several loud cracks could be heard. The Draconian dropped to the ground clutching his chest and screeching. Hunter kneeled to offer a hand, but the Draconian suddenly grabbed him by the throat and would have strangled him, but Hunter drew a small dagger and rammed it into the beast's chest. The Draconian opened his mouth and screamed as he clutched the dagger. Hunter turned and left the Draconian to die alone.
Archer was staring down at his prisoner, contemplating what to do when he heard the shriek.
That will be your friend dyeing.
Archer hissed and delivered a kick across the Baaz's face. Say that again, I dare you.
The traitor is dead.
Archer pulled the Draconian to his feet and pressed his face against a tree while he used the Baaz's belt to bind his hands. "Vret a druek cutnek hai. Dea?"
Lead the way. The Baaz hissed.
Archer pushed him forward. Move.
Viper fell and let out a shout. He could see his brother ahead, fighting with a Draconian and apparently winning. He pulled himself back to his feet. He was slowly dyeing and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. His brother was done now, and leaving. Viper let out a desperate cry, hoping Hunter would hear. His brother stopped and turned.
"Allan!" Hunter ran through the trees to his brother and caught him as he began to fall. "Oh, no Allan, don't do this to me, please."
"Hunter," Allan coughed. "I got him just as good as he got me, if not better."
"Ah, no Allan, not now, not yet." Hunter felt a tear fall down his cheek. "We'll find someone who can help you, come on, lean on me and try to stand." Allan shook his head, but said nothing. "I'll get him, I'll get em all. They will pay, I swear."
"Good bye, brother."
Hunter started to say something, but Allan died right there in his arms. A rush of tears came to him and he stayed there, in the rain, and he picked up his brother's body and began the long walk to the Pearl Lake.
"Cyrius!" Archer shoved the Baaz aside and ran to his fallen friend.
Cyrius attempted to stand and meet Archer, but fell back down before Archer could reach him.
"Archer, go. Pyre lives, find him."
Archer realized why Cyrius wanted him to leave, but he refused. "Cyrius," He suddenly lost what he had wanted to say.
"Go." The command was no more than a whisper.
Archer stood and ran back to his prisoner. "You will be the first." He drew a dagger and slit the Draconian's throat. "Die slowly." He looked over his shoulder one last time at Cyrius before leaving the clearing.
As he was walking he came upon Cyrius' cloak, and he took it and replaced his own with it, folding up the gray one and stowing it in a pouch at his side. Then he turned and began heading towards the Quiet Tavern at Pearl Lake, knowing he would never see his friend again.
CHAPTER XXXVI
Saren looked up as Archer pushed the door open and stumbled in. "Welcome back, Archer. I almost failed to recognize you in that cloak." She came towards him and worry overtook her. Archer was shaking with each step he took and seemed to be going into shock.
She ran up to him and guided him to the couch. "Archer, what's wrong."
"Dead." He tried to take control of himself. "Cyrius, he's dead." He rested his head in his hands.
"Oh, no. What happened to him."
Archer just shook his head, leaving Saren in silence. She gave the Draconian a hug and stood to go shut the door. Archer looked up and watched her.
"Tell me, was it Pyre?"
Archer nodded. "I tried to stay, but he told me not to. He left to fight alone."
"I am truly sorry..." She looked out the open door. "Hunter?"
Archer stood and walked towards her. "What?"
She ran out into the rain and disappeared. A moment later she returned with someone under her arm, it was Hunter. Archer came to help them.
"What happened?"
Hunter looked up at him and shook his head. "Viper's dead. I found him, but it was too late. Nothing could be done." Hunter looked around. "Where's Cyrius?"
"Pyre killed him."
The room was silent for a moment.
"Hunter, I do believe there is something to be done." Archer loosened his cloak and rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. Rage was slowly replacing grief.
"It is dangerous. If one of the Rangers found you hunting someone-"
"Make me a Ranger."
Hunter shook his head. "It's not that easy. You have to pass an interview, and then someone takes you in as an apprentice for three months."
Archer grinned. "I'll take the chance. I will not let you hunt alone. If you do not want the trouble, then I hunt alone. You will not get in trouble then, will you?"
Hunter looked down at the sleeve of his greatcoat. A crimson stain covered most of the brown. "Let's go. Just remember-"
"Pyre is mine." Archer walked out of the tavern door, leaving the two behind in the tavern. When he had gone ten yards out he turned and yelled back, "Hunter, come on!"
Hunter turned to Saren. "He would make a good Ranger, he has spirit."
Saren nodded. "True, but he is uncontrolled. That is dangerous."
Hunter turned to leave. "I'll do what I can. Though right now we are the same."
CHAPTER XXXVII
Rampage glanced about the tavern, trying to mask his unease. In one dark corner, his eye caught someone waving, motioning him to come. He carefully picked his way through the crowd. Although he was disguised, and although Pyre was in disguise as well, he felt that at any moment the two of them would be found out and killed. Word had spread concerning the death of the Ranger one night ago, and of a friend of the Ranger's brother. A hunt was under way.
"Rampage," Pyre hissed, "don't be so slow."
Rampage sat down across from his commander. "You should try to refrain from using names."
Pyre narrowed his eyes. "Point to the commander."
The tavern's door opened and a cold breeze swept through the room.
"Don't look now, but our old friends have arrived. Just stay cool, and if they come, do not say a word." Pyre adjusted the coat he was wearing and hunched over a mug half emptied of its ale.
"You're not drinking that, are you?" Rampage grinned.
"I despise the stuff. Too…" he searched for a word, "…human."
Rampage cracked a nervous smile and glanced over his shoulder. The Ranger was at the far end of the tavern, but his Draconian friend, the traitor, was slowly making his way to their table, searching each person on the way.
He turned back to Pyre. "What do we do?"
Pyre thought a moment. "Tell you what, you keep an eye on him. If he looks like he's on to us, turn back around and let me know."
Archer was about to turn and start looking in the middle of the tavern when he saw the two. They were sitting, both facing him. One glared at him, stood, and ran out the back of the tavern. The other, upon hearing his friend's departure, stood to run as well, but Archer was on him. He tackled the man and pinned him to the ground.
"Listen up. Your life depends on the answer you give." Archer drew a small dagger and pressed it against the man's throat. "Where is Pyre?"
"I don't know!" The man struggled to break he pin.
Archer shook his head. "Wrong answer." He picked the man up by the collar and slammed him against a wall. "The people are beginning to wonder about me. Show them who you really are."
The man shook his head. Archer rammed the dagger into the man's gut. He doubled over and fell to the floor, clutching the wound.
He let out a hiss. "I wouldn't have done that if I were you."
"Well, I hate to disappoint you but you're not me." Archer reached to pick the man up again.
The man pulled the dagger from is wound and lashed out. The tiny blade caught Archer in the leg, and he fell as it collapsed on him. He felt himself get lifted up by the back of his cloak and thrown against the wall. When he looked up, he found himself staring into the face of an angry Draconian.
Archer chuckled. "Well, now you've done it."
"Done what?" The Draconian drew a crooked bladed dagger and pressed it against the side of Archer's face. "Well? What have I done?"
"Forgot about my friend." Archer grinned.
The Draconian's expression changed completely as he remembered about the Ranger. Hunter came up from behind and slammed the hilt of his blade as hard as he could against the base of the Draconian's skull. The Sivak fell to the ground, grasping his head in pain.
"Thank you." Archer shook Hunter's hand and knelt by the Draconian. "Now then, I'll try again. Where is Pyre?"
Archer looked up at the massive doors to the warehouse, his blade drawn and ready. Hunter was at his side.
"I don't like it." Archer shook his head and nervously looked behind him for some stalker that was not there. "It looks too dark, no windows, no light."
Hunter nodded and ran a hand over the wooden door.
"You know what else?" Archer crouched, resting the tip of the sword's blade in the dirt, and his head on the sword's hilt. "I'm scared." He looked up at Hunter and laughed uneasily.
"There is one thing you've overlooked. The doors let in light and we can leave them open."
Archer shook his head. "That will not help much. Look at the sun, almost right overhead. We'll have light for the first ten feet into the building, after that...." He closed his eyes tightly. "How's your night vision?"
"Last time I checked was with a full moon."
"Well, we all have to put ourselves through the extremes sooner or later. Net auten kahele."
Hunter looked down at him, puzzled. "You lost me there."
"Face your fear." He stood and gripped the handle on the massive door.
Hunter watched as the door slid aside to reveal a seemingly endless expanse of nothingness. From some point in the darkness, a pair of blood red points flashed and glowed briefly before disappearing.
"That'll be Pyre. He is mine. You watch my back." Archer drew his second blade and locked the two together. He held it in the middle by the grip and spun it. "I can't remember the last time I used these two together. Wish me luck." He loosened the dark blue cloak and soon disappeared into the thick darkness.
Hunter took a few steps into the warehouse, but stopped just as the light from outside ended. He hesitated a moment, even when the sounds of a fight started from somewhere within. He took a step out of the light as a cold sweat broke on his forehead. He could see nothing around him. He felt too open, too vulnerable. He stepped back to where he could see, back by the door, and waited.
Archer ducked instinctively and heard the air over his head stir as a blade swept past. He shifted his weight forward and attacked low. Even though he could not see Pyre entirely, he could see the blood red eyes. That was all he needed. Through communication with his eyes, Pyre gave away when he would attack, and so long as Archer watched the eyes, he could not possibly lose sight of his adversary.
His attack soon lost momentum, and that meant it was Pyre's turn to counter attack. Archer jumped back, barely missing a blade aimed for his chest, but then had to duck as the second blade swung around at his head. He lost sight of Pyre's eyes. For the first time ever, a true sense of panic fell over him, and he blindly jabbed into the air. Pyre knocked the blade aside. Archer jumped to his feet, detaching the blades as he did so, and attacked again. This time, however, his first attack was a feign, meant to drive Pyre into a trap. He jabbed with his left hand blade, and then turned and brought his right hand blade in a wide arc that cut through the area where it was most probable Pyre would be.
The blade was deflected and Pyre spun around the blade, bringing his thin stiletto around and driving it straight behind him. He grinned as he felt it dig into something. Archer screamed, but the scream was strained and broken as he fell to the warehouse floor. Pyre pulled the stiletto free and turned his gaze towards the open door.
Hunter strained to see why the fight had suddenly ended. He was growing impatient and tired of standing by the door, yet he could not urge himself to step into the depths of the warehouse. Everything in his mind told him not to. He jumped as he heard a low laugh. It was close by. He brought his blade up.
"Pyre, I presume." He looked into the darkness. Again two blood red, glowing spots stared out at him. Where was Archer? He began to worry for his friend's well being.
"Step into my lair."
Hunter gritted his teeth. "Come into the light, why don't you."
"I would, but it is a pain to have to let my eyes readjust. Besides, the dark is fun, it adds an extra level of challenge." The eyes blinked. "Oh, I have something for you."
Something flew out of the darkness and landed in a heap by Hunter's feet. It was the tattered remains of Archer's cloak, and half of it was matted with blood.
"Your friend, he might need help. It may seem odd, but I actually recommend you enter." The voice was moving to the left. "Don't believe me? Here, just look at what I have."
There was a glint of metal and a small object landed in the midst of the ruined cloak. Hunter bent down and picked it up. It was a brooch, fashioned into the shape of a dragon. The silver body had two emerald wings spread and flight ready, and two sapphire blue eyes. Hunter looked again at where he thought the eyes had been, but only to find they were gone.
"I'll give you a choice, Hunter." The voice was behind him.
Hunter turned and faced the Draconian. "What is it?"
"You can go rescue your friend, or leave him to die and go after me. Remember, your friend needs help, but I am responsible for your brother's death. Your choice, but remember, revenge is the nature of all that are able to fight back. You did love your brother, did you not?" Pyre laughed and began walking away.
Hunter turned his gaze from Pyre, to the warehouse, and then back again. Without a second thought, he turned and disappeared into the gaping doors, leaving Pyre to walk away. The laugh echoed within the warehouse walls, and later in Hunter's mind as he began searching for his friend.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
Archer awoke from a dreamless sleep and found himself laid out on the couch in the now familiar Quiet Tavern. The tavern was empty, in its usual way, and after a quick look around he soon found that Saren and himself were the only occupants. He started to sit up, but a sharp pain in the left side of his chest kept him from doing so.
"Saren, where is Hunter?" He looked over at her. She was busy cleaning glasses and organizing the bar. He asked again. "Saren?"
She looked up and smiled. "You're up! Good. You slept for a while, I was beginning to worry. Welcome back, though I don't recommend you move about too much."
"Yes, I realized that too." He rubbed his chest. "Where is Hunter?"
"Oh, he's off at some annual officer's meeting with the other Ranger commanders." Archer gave her a curious look. "Well," she started, "they are deciding on candidates for apprenticeship. He's trying to get you in."
"How nice of him." Archer tried to sit up again, only this time he went slower and was successful. "Are you expecting a big crowd?" He gestured towards a stack of freshly cleaned glasses.
"No, you actually missed the crowd while you were off hunting Pyre. It was busy, the tavern was full. I had to call in a little extra help." She finished drying a glass and set it aside. "Archer, Cyrius told me a lot about himself, but I know near to nothing about you. You wouldn't mind sharing a bit about yourself, would you?"
"Well, what would you like to know about me?"
"Well, you could start by telling me where you are from." She came out from behind the bar and pulled a chair up next to the couch.
"Well, the truth is I don't really know where I'm from. Draconians are, in a sense, homeless until they die. Before we even see our own family we are taken from the nest by thieves."
"Oh, I see. That seems a bit rough on, well, a lot of people."
Archer shook his head. "Not as many as you would think. The ones who suffer most are the parents. They never see their hatchling again. If they do it is usually during battle, and one or both end up dead, neither knowing who the other is. The Draconians really could care less.
"It was a bit different with me, though. I did not care until I raided a dragon's den. Cyrius' battalion, led by Pyre, had chosen our group, and me to head the attack. I never fully understood why me, but never cared to ask. Cyrius' group was set to attack a nearby den as well. The two families were close friends and would come to one another's aide if called upon, without hesitation. The two attacks were set to happen simultaneously, and they did. Cyrius' group was beaten." He paused. "Ours was a complete success. Both Callystrins were killed, Celeste and Stryker.
"During his battle, Cyrius turned and fought alongside the two dragons. I ordered the two to death, and killed one myself. Before she died, she told me something. She knew who I was, or thought she did. I killed her. Stryker died soon thereafter. I followed some instructions that Celeste had given me. It was this event that led me to turn to the Dragon Knights.
"Now, some things that I have discovered and investigated lead me to believe that I attacked and killed my own parents. I found some journals, most were in elfin, but a few in basic. In them it tells of one of her four eggs being stolen, the only male. During the theft another was destroyed."
Silence followed his words and stood for a moment, before Saren broke it. "So what brought you to this place?"
"I found Eleanor, one of the two surviving Callystrins, she currently lives in the Mirkilains, by the Freterton River, and is caring for the Callystrin home. Her sister, named Alyse, lives in Fetare. She is why I am here."
"So she could be your sister." She grinned. "I know her."
CHAPTER XXXVIV
Hunter stood and made his way to the front of the conference hall. He focused not on the task ahead of him, but on trying to make his stride and manner purposeful. It was his turn to propose a candidate who would be among a hundred others. Of those, only ten would be picked for apprenticeship and admission into the Rangers. As he approached the front of the hall, he slowed his pace. Now his mind went to telling himself why he was here.
Remember that he is good enough to rise to the top. Archer is not worthy of becoming a Ranger, the Rangers are honored enough to be able to have him. He turned to face the other officers and the ruling judges who would decide if Archer was eligible or not. He has a better cause than all of the others out there. He grinned crookedly and began.
"Second Commander Jim Hunter VonBurace, reporting that I have found a highly qualified subject who I find to be more than just merely suitable for apprenticeship under any of the Ranger fields. He is highly skilled, loyal to the cause, and has no trouble taking or giving orders that are wisely thought out. He is capable of assessing a situation and finding a way to overcome all obstacles presented. Personal fears and discomforts do not affect his reliability, or his ability to handle a situation. He is alert, always ready, and brings a certain aura of kindness with him wherever he goes." Hunter paused for a deep breath of fresh air. "There is, however, one problem that he cannot overcome. He is a Sivak Draconian."
There was a widespread and mixed response from the assembly.
"Mister VonBurace, Judge Witaker speaking, are you suggesting that we allow one of the most problematic troublemakers known into our ranks?"
Hunter locked eyes with the judge. "He is not a troublemaker, and he is not problematic. He despises all the Draconians stand for."
The Judge Witaker tapped a finger against his desk. "If he is not even loyal to his own kind, what makes you think he will be loyal to you, or the Rangers?"
"It is not a matter of being loyal to his kind, or our kind. He is against the ways that his kind traditionally takes, and is a member of the Dragon Knight army in the Mirkilains." He smirked. "Might I add, he is an honorable member of the Dragon Knights. As to loyalty towards me and his own, he is my friend, was my brother's friend, and shared this friendship with another who, unfortunately, died the same night as my brother, and for the same reason. He fought against what he knew was wrong. If you do not take Archer as a candidate, I will use my replacement request and have him fill the space left by my brother. Archer wants to be a Ranger, wants to fight for the cause just as much as any of you seated here today, if not more so than some. There is nothing he would do to betray us, to bring us down, or to shame us in any way. Moreover, had his friend, Cyrius, been alive I would not hesitate to name him as a second candidate. Archer is like a brother to me. If it means anything, I trust him with my life."
Hunter bowed, showing he had finished. He walked calmly back to his seat, keeping the same manner and purpose as he had tried to keep while going up. Then he sat and listened as forty others presented their candidates.
When the candidates had been listed, the votes were taken. Each officer chose ten names of candidates and wrote them on a paper. The votes were collected and counted by the judges. The results would be announced in one hour, giving the officers time to mingle and rest.
Hunter made his way through the crowds, listening carefully and trying to hear if any votes for Archer had been cast. He spent his hour doing this, searching through the slowly dwindling crowd.
When the count was completed, a bell summoned the officers back to the hall. They took the seats they had before and waited for the results to be announced. Hunter watched as one of the judges, it so happened to be Witaker, took a sheet of paper and started making his way to the front of the hall.
"The ten candidates that have been chosen are as follows." He cleared his throat. "Michael Tannden. Adam Just. William Rhymer. Alyse Callystrin. Katie Heartfield. Justin Tyler. Alec Gillden. Henery Gilldomere. Daniel Guilar." He stopped and looked at the last name on the list. His eyes shot up at the other judges. One of them gave a nod and grinned as he waved a hand, prompting the announcer to continue. "And Archer Centrelli. That is all."
The judge crumbled the paper and charged down the aisle towards the other judges. As Hunter made his way out of the hall he could not but help noticing that Witaker was arguing with the judge who had apparently made the last decision. When Hunter passed by the two, the judge nodded his head and mouthed 'good luck' before returning to the argument with Witaker.
CHAPTER IL
Hunter pushed the door open and stepped into the tavern. Archer was back on his feet already, and was slowly moving about the tavern delivering drinks to a few customers that had wandered in. Saren was behind the bar idly balancing a mug on one end. She looked up upon hearing the door open and grinned at Hunter.
"How did the meeting go?" She came out from behind the bar to meet him.
"Well, quite good, actually." He motioned back at Archer. "Did you make him do that?"
"No, the oddest thing. He volunteered. He claims it is some new concept where you do something without being asked." She laughed. "I'm joking, but he really did volunteer. If you want my opinion, he should be back to normal just outside of a week."
"Well, I still wish we knew more about that than we do. If you will excuse me for a moment." He made his way across the room and came up alongside Archer. "Welcome back to the world of the living, friend."
Archer grinned. "I never left it. So, how did the meeting go?"
"Well, there were about one hundred and twenty candidates, and you know that they only pick ten, right?"
Archer rolled his eyes. "Who won?"
"Call me an idiot, but I only remember one name. It caused quite an argument among the judges." He gripped Archer's shoulder. "Welcome aboard. You are my new apprentice."
Archer acted slightly disappointed. "You mean I have to learn from you? Please, anyone but you." Archer laughed and gave Hunter a quick hug. "Ha! Thank you so much, you cannot believe how much I wanted the spot. So, really, who else was picked?"
"Oh, you most likely would have never heard of them."
Archer shrugged. "Who cares? I still like knowing."
Hunter shook his head. "Well, an old friend of mine, goes by the name Rhymer, he got picked. He is working under an old knight, I forget his name." He thought a moment. "Oh yes, and then there was Henry Gilldomere. He is working under Saren. She just does not know that yet."
"Gilldomere?" Archer inquired. Hunter nodded. "I knew a Lady by that name. She died in battle during a siege. Cyrius was there. She was a good friend. I wonder, do you know if there might be any relation between the two?"
"It is a big world out there." Hunter shrugged apologetically before continuing. "The other names escape me for the moment, but you will meet them all soon. But...oh I should be able to remember some of them." He rapped a knuckle on a nearby table. "There was one lady, her name began with...." He stopped, trying to remember.
"Do you at least know her last name?"
"Yes, Cally...." He shook his head. "Collenstin. I believe."
Saren overheard. "It would not happen to be Emma Collenstein would it?" She asked.
"No, it was not Emma, and it was not one of those 'ein' names, it ended with 'in.' I am positive of that."
Archer furrowed his brow. Hunter's first response to the last name caused him to lose himself in thought. He mumbled something to himself. Hunter apparently overheard.
"Excuse me?"
Archer repeated what he had thought. "Callystrin? Was the name Callystrin?"
Hunter repeated the name silently to himself a few times before nodding. "That seems right, more so than Collenstin. Do you know her?"
"What was her first name? Please, Hunter, you have to remember."
Hunter closed his eyes and tried to run through the final minutes of the meeting.
"Alyse." He finally said. "Alyse Callystrin. Now I ask again, do you know her?"
Archer grinned as he shot a glance up at Saren. "Not yet."
"How do you know her, then?"
Archer shook his head. "Long story. Hey, why not tell Saren the good news?"
Saren looked at Hunter quizzically. "What good news?"
"They assigned you an apprentice."
Saren shook her head. "I though I told you to tell them I was through with the apprentices." She turned away and went back behind the bar. "I won't take him."
"Saren, just hear the name and think about what I was telling you today." He grinned at Hunter. "Go ahead, tell her."
"His name is Henry Gilldomere."
Saren switched her gaze from Hunter to Archer. "Any relation to your friend?"
Archer shrugged. "I don't know yet, but I plan on finding out."
Saren nodded. "Fine, I'll take him. But you have to do one thing for me, Hunter."
Hunter braced himself. "What?"
"For the next two weeks, you help Archer and I mind the tavern. Now hurry up, a table on your half just became occupied."
Hunter groaned and looked over his shoulder at Archer as he made his way to the table. "How did you put up with an entire day of this?"
"Easily. I just forgot about the work, and enjoyed the conversation. You would not believe the questions some people have for a Draconian."
He grinned and turned to clear some empty glasses off a table. Hunter hung about, trying to avoid waiting on the table, until an icy stare from Saren caught his gaze. He submitted and slowly made his way over to the table.
CHAPTER L
Rain flooded Fetare yet again. This time, however, things were worse. A large storm had brewed of the southern coast and was slowly creeping inland. Strong winds that came with the storm were uprooting trees and leveling towns. Boats that had been tied up in harbor were sunk, capsized, or destroyed. Night conquered day and darkness settled on the island. Once more, using the foul weather and starless night for cover, Pyre looked towards the only thing that would please him. The death of the traitor.
He walked without a light, letting his blood red eyes become accustomed to the dark. He was as silent as the forest around him, and the only thing that gave away his presence, besides his glowing eyes, was the occasional flash of light from a lightning bolt. This slight inconvenience was shrugged aside, however. He would not let anything disturb his plans.
He had been waiting for a starless night to strike, a window of opportunity to begin his carefully thought out revenge. Over the past weeks, his small army had been hunted down and destroyed. Some fled the island, some died, but some remained. He still had a few loyal to him, but the enemy's sting was being felt. He came to a stop.
Up ahead, lights were shining through the trees. He grinned and drew his blade, not the one given to him by Cyrius, but Cyrius' own blade, taken after his death. He continued on his walk. The lights drew nearer, and now he could see that the tavern was not completely empty. Shadows that had living owners crossed by.
A soft hiss escaped him, but he continued on, undaunted. In fact, he welcomed some challenge. He was now out of the forest. Ahead of him, far of in the distance, a lightning bolt played across a lake. He admired the blue streak for a moment, before it died. To him it seemed a shame that something so destructive could only live for so short a while. Nevertheless, the time for sympathy was over. It was time to kill.
He slowly stepped up to the tavern door and reached out for it. He played his claws over a small wooden design whose meaning meant nothing to him; just wanting to tear the door down and rush in, possessed by a mad rage. However, that would be foolish. He brought his hand back to his side and silently rested the side of his head against the door.
Archer finished clearing the table and brought the empty glasses back to the bar. It had been a slow night, but that could be expected because of the storm. Now, the only remaining customers, were both drunk and having shouting matches. Archer just hoped they would leave.
Once he reached the bar, he set the glasses down and gave Saren a tired look.
"How long until they leave?"
Saren shrugged and began cleaning the glasses. "Do they want anything else?"
Archer shook his head. "I am willing to bet that even if they did, they would not be able to order."
Saren laughed. "Well, in that case I'll just tell Jim to close the cellar, no need to keep it open if it's not going to be used."
She stopped work on the glasses and disappeared into the back room. Archer rested his head on his hands and closed his eyes. It had been a long day. Hunter and himself had been asked to follow up a distress call in some town. When they had arrived, they found an enraged Bozak tearing up some shops. It was easily taken care of, though, but the fight had left Archer short of breath. Nothing else Ranger related happened that day. There was a small bar fight in the tavern that had to be put down, and that was a challenge. It took the better part of an hour to get them outside. Now there was only these two.
He heard the door open and a cold breeze filled the room. He turned, hoping to find the two drunks gone. The door was wide open, and they were passed out at their table. Archer became uneasy, but told himself that the wind was responsible for pushing the door open. He slowly walked over to the open door, looked outside for anyone who might have been there, and closed the door and, after a second thought, latched it.
He relaxed slightly and turned towards the bar. How long does it take Saren to lock the cellar? He made his way across the room, suddenly becoming completely aware of everything around him. Every creak and groan the tavern issued seemed too loud to be natural. Footsteps and noises came from nowhere and had no owner other than his own mind. His senses were on full alert.
He stepped behind the bar and went through the doorway into the back room. From here, he had a choice. Either he could take the hallway in front of him that led to the guestrooms, or he could take the stairs up to Saren's room and the attic, or he could take another staircase down into the storage cellar. He stepped towards the cellar, but halted at the top of the staircase.
"Hunter! Are you down there?" The call went without an answer.
Archer turned away from the cellar and looked down the hall. He was still undecided on where to go. Every choice seemed like it led to a different doom.
"Archer,"
He jumped. It was Saren.
"Sorry." She laughed. "There was a terrible leak in the cellar, Hunter is working on patching it up." She eyed him curiously. "Did they leave yet?"
He shook his head. "They passed out."
Saren rolled her eyes and turned to re-enter the tavern. She got as far as the door and stopped abruptly with a scream. Archer ran to her side and saw it immediately. Both of the drunks were dead, their throats slit. Archer instinctively reached to his side, but remembered he had left his swords in his room. He ran back down the hall and fetched them. He drew the blades, leaving the sheaths behind, and ran back to the tavern entrance. Saren was still there.
"Saren, go get Hunter. I'll check the tavern."
She nodded and disappeared down the cellar stairs. Archer took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway.
With his swords in the lead, he crept to the table where the two were sitting, dead, and searched for any sign that would lead to who ever had done it. There was none. The sound of glass crashing to the ground caused him to turn towards the bar. There was writing across the back wall in Drakoník, the letters written in the blood of the two who had been killed. The dialect was familiar, but slightly different from that which Archer was familiar with, and it took him a while to translate it. When the message had been processed, he said it quietly to himself.
Just at that moment, Hunter entered the room. He grimly eyed the table before turning to the message.
"What does it say?"
Archer shot him a side-glance before answering. "Vengeance is mine."
"If I knew him half as well as I do, he is still here."
Archer looked back at his friend and furrowed his brow. "Your sword, where is it?"
"I left it in the room."
Archer handed him one of his own.
Pyre kept a low profile in the rafters over their heads and forced himself not to laugh. They were making it too easy. He almost hated having to be silent. He waited until their backs were turned before he checked the rope he had attached to a rafter and, satisfied it would hold his weight, swung down and landed on the floor behind Hunter without a sound. Now came the fast part. He unsheathed his sword, cut the rope down, and wrapped the rope around Hunter's throat.
Archer heard his friend drop the sword and turned. The sight before him made his blood run cold. Pyre laughed and threw the struggling Ranger into the bar head first, knocking him out cold.
Ready to die? It is just you and me. Pyre raised his blade.
Archer readied to defend himself and locked eyes with Pyre. There was a lack of sanity that seemed to be reflected in them and it made Archer nervous. He tried to control himself.
Finally, after all this time, a fair fight. Pyre laughed. Well, only fair if I failed to wound you last time. He charged.
Archer deflected the attack and turned as Pyre tried to attack from behind. Again, the blow was knocked aside. To Archer, it seemed that with each attack, insanity took a stronger hold on Pyre. The attacks became bolder, more reckless, but strong none the less. Then things went downhill.
A lucky elbow to his chest started Archer in a light coughing fit that distracted him long enough for Pyre to slam the bottom of his swords grip right where Archer's wound had finished healing. The blow was stronger than it should have been. Archer fell to the ground and coughed again; this time he tasted blood. Pyre laughed darkly as he picked his opponent up by the neck and pressed his blade to Archer's throat.
Oh, do not be so surprised. You see, you can no longer breath like normal living things. You have a damaged lung. Pyre threw Archer against a wall and slammed a fist into his chest. The Sivak doubled over in pain. Do not think I let you live in the warehouse without crippling you first.
Archer focused on controlling his cough. Do Not think.... He stopped to catch his breath.
Pyre leaned down next to Archer. Don't think what?
Archer locked eyes with Pyre and smiled, a small trickle of blood falling from the corner of his mouth. Do Not think Cyrius' death will go unpunished.
Pyre feigned a look of horror. Who is going to avenge the death of the Nightstalker?
Me.
Archer summoned up what remaining strength he had and rammed his fist into Pyre's stomach. The Draconian doubled over and Archer grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him up. Archer's strength ebbed away, yet he stared into Pyre's eyes with a grim determination, his mind set on one goal.
Go ahead. Kill me.
The time will come. You will die from your deeds, but not by my hands.
Pyre pulled away from Archer and retrieved his sword. You disappoint me. Before you, at your mercy, was one who killed your friend. Pyre sheathed the sword. He killed another friend's brother. He killed two who took you in and cared for you. He even used you to kill your own. He sent you to kill the Callystrins. You succeeded, but not entirely. I had to do a little cleaning up. Now there are only two. Pyre laughed and started walking towards the door. Would you like others whom you care for to die because you set me free? He turned to face Archer again. Or will you change your mind and stop me right now. Just make one attack and end it. Your choice. Ignorance, or revenge. Pyre folded his wings around him like a cloak and opened the door. You will soon know the consequences of your decision.
The door slammed shut and Archer collapsed, out of energy and breath. His chest ached and his mind was confused. What did I do? I let him live! He reached up and dug his claws into the wall to help pull himself up. Why? He collapsed into a nearby chair and waited for order to restore itself.
He heard a groan and looked to Hunter who was just coming to.
"I am going to have this headache for a long time." Hunter glanced at Archer. "What happened?"
"He left."
Hunter looked around the tavern. "Where is Saren?"
The question struck Archer for the first time and he shrugged. "Do me a favor, find her. I can't...I mean, I need to catch my breath."
Hunter gave a nod and disappeared into the back room. When he returned, fifteen minutes later, his face was grim and solemn. In his hand was a note. He handed it to Archer.
Archer, I told you that you would regret doing what you did. Now another is dead without justice. It almost pains me to think that you, of all people, would have done such a thing. But you know what? I hate being right.
Your dearest enemy,
Pyre Darkblade.
Archer crumbled up the note and looked up at the message that had been left over the bar. He read the words over and over, letting them imprint themselves in his mind. He slowly took the message in as his own, silently making it his battle cry.