Chapter Two: Shadows

The small tavern was nearly empty. This was a small wonder; from the outside, its entrance consisted of a nondescript door in a narrow alley of the slums. Certainly, one could not simply stumble upon the tavern on accident; such suited the needs of the cloaked man perfectly.

Whereas the majority of the few patrons of the tavern sat at the bar, the mysterious individual who seemed to naturally avoid the attention of all other inhabitants of the establishment was seated at a table in the darkest corner of the room. His tall figure was shrouded entirely by a heavy black cloak, and a hood was drawn over his head, thus casting a shadow over his face that rendered his features indistinguishable. Oddly, he sat perfectly still, making no sound whatsoever and barely seeming to breathe. Upon the table before him sat two items, one of which was commonplace and the other that was certainly not. The man's gloved hand was loosely wrapped about the common object, a nearly-empty glass containing the remnants of some unidentifiable beverage, though was ever poised to lunge for the other, a rather large, slightly curved sword contained within a black leather sheath. The sword had much to do with the fact that most of the tavern's inhabitants sat as far away from the cloaked man's table as they could manage.

The oddly silent individual had been sitting in the same position since the sun had risen, causing some to wonder if he was, perhaps, awaiting some sort of company. Such was the case, though his business was far more serious than most could imagine. This was not apparent from his appearance, for he seemed to be perfectly calm and collected. On the contrary, he could feel his nerves rising to a point that they had not reached in quite a long while as he pondered the implications of the failure of his mission, implications that most human beings could not so much as consider.

As he waited, the man began to slowly trace his finger around the lip of the glass. Those who he had hired to carry out the first stage of his mission were late, and though he had great faith in the two young men, he could not help but worry. If they had failed, the man reasoned, fate would soon take a turn for the worse. No, failure was not an option; if the mercenaries had failed, the man would be forced to carry out the mission himself, regardless of the inevitable difficulty involved.

For the first time in a long while, the door of the tavern opened, causing the cloaked man's gaze to instantly focus upon the door. Sure enough, two young men entered, one of whom instructed a young woman to wait outside before entering. They were the very mercenaries that the cloaked man had hired: a tall young man with silver hair and his brother, a black-haired thief. They approached the table purposefully, the elder of the two wasting no time in conducting business.

"You set us up," said Seth in as calm and quiet a voice as he could muster, for he did not wish to attract attention to the out-of-place trio. "You tried to get us killed. Why?"

The cloaked man waited several moments before responding, causing Seth and Ryn to become more frustrated then they were before. "You don't understand," he finally responded, his voice intimidating though he did not intend it to be.

Ever easily angered, Seth pounded a fist against the table, causing it to shift upon uneven legs. "I understand perfectly. You knew that the Rebellion would attack the church, and you knew exactly when those damnable rebels would do so. That's why you sent us there when you did. Tell me why!"

"You misunderstand," said the man calmly, without so much as flinching. "Do not be so defensive. My reasons for hiring you to do what you did are more righteous than you may believe." He paused as if to stop speaking, but continued. "Certainly, I knew that the Rebellion would attack the church today. That is the reason I informed you to carry out the job as early as possible." He glanced around the room suspiciously. "Come. We cannot speak here; we are likely to be heard in a place such as this. We must travel deeper into the slums, for then we shall be more difficult to find."

Seth's brow furrowed at the suggestion, and he crossed his arms. He believed the idea to be quite inane. "You obviously don't know this area very well," he said in a disgruntled manner. "Even we wouldn't dare to any deeper into the slums than is absolutely necessary, and there is little that frightens us."

"You have nothing to fear," said the man. To the surprise of the tavern's occupants, he stood, and strapped the sword upon the table to his belt. "Trust me, no harm will come to you or the…the girl if you follow my lead. We must move quickly, for I fear that they have already begun their search."

"Who has begun their search for what?" asked the bewildered Ryn.

"That question will be answered in time," said the cloaked man, and, without so much as another word, he practically threw the tavern door open and strode purposefully into the alley beyond, leaving Seth and Ryn to discuss their next course of actions.

"Do you think we should trust him?" Seth asked his brother in a hushed tone.

The younger brother shrugged. "I have no idea. Like you said, we don't know anything about him. Still…"

"I don't think we have much of a choice," said Seth, completing his brother's statement.

"Exactly." Ryn placed his hands upon the hilts of his knives. "Besides, we're armed well enough to take care of him if he tries anything stupid."

With a sigh, Seth nodded. "I certainly hope it doesn't come to that," he said. He shot a glance at the door, and then turned to his brother. "We'd best be going."

Thus, the two brothers exited the tavern. Upon entering the alley, they discovered the cloaked man speaking with the princess.

"…you have nothing to fear," the man said. It was apparent that he had been speaking even before the mercenaries had exited the tavern. "Please, Lady Elina, you must trust me. These two did not kidnap you out of malice, and I assure you that I am quite the opposite of what you might think. I have come to protect you."

"Who…are you?" Elina asked confusedly. She still found it difficult to comprehend all that was occurring around her.

The man seemed to contemplate for a moment before responding. "You may call me…Sion," he said eventually. "Yes, that shall do for now. However, my name is of little importance; we must make haste."

"Where are we going?" the princess asked.

Before Sion could respond, Seth answered the question. "We're going into the heart of the slums, a place in which we have little chance of survival. However, it doesn't seem as if we have much of a choice."

"I told you, you have nothing to fear," said the ever-mysterious Sion. "That is, unless…"

"Hey, uh, Seth…" muttered Ryn. He was pointing toward the top of a nearby building. Seth's eyes followed the outstretched arm of his brother to the location at which Ryn pointed. Atop the building stood a lone figure whose tattered cloak billowed and swayed, though there was no wind whatsoever. The most peculiar aspect of the figure was its utter lack of discernable features; it appeared to be a shadow of utter nothingness, standing out in stark contrast to the sky behind. It was as if a man-shaped hole had been cut into the very sky itself.

Sion lowered his hood so as to provide a better view of the dark figure, revealing a rugged, determined face with slightly graying black hair and intense jet black eyes. His gaze focused upon the figure, and he cursed in a distraught manner, as if having failed a trial of some sort. "How could they have located me?" he mused. "I took great care to cover my tracks."

"We have more important matters to worry about," Seth said in reply, motioning toward the figure. It had disappeared, much to the surprise of the four in the alley.

Sion's eyes narrowed. "It's moving. Come, we must make haste!" He promptly rushed down the alley in the opposite direction of that in which the dark figure had been spotted. Seth followed wordlessly, followed by the princess, and finally Ryn.

From the outset, the run through the increasingly maze-like passageways and alleys of the slums felt to Seth as if the four were fleeing from something more powerful than they, though he knew not what made the dark figure capable of standing up to three armed individuals. However, he had no choice but to trust the odd man who called himself Sion, and he had reasoned that he would receive no information from Sion unless he followed the mysterious man to whatever unknown location in the heart of the slums that served as his destination. Thus, he ran onward, ever checking over his shoulder partly to make absolutely sure that the princess and his brother had not fallen behind and partly out of paranoia and fear of the unseen.

At length, Sion led the small group to what could only be described as a small plaza, though the dank, gloomy atmosphere would have seemed less out of place in a graveyard. The ground was floored with cobblestone, though some stones were missing and others were broken into jagged splinters of rock that jutted up toward the sky as if lamenting the lack of life in the deserted area. Surrounded almost entirely by buildings in various stages of disrepair, the only exits from the plaza were two narrow alleys, one of which being opposite the alley that the group had entered through. Upon reaching the plaza, Sion stood completely still, saying not a word as his eyes scanned the area. Seth and Ryn spoke quietly amongst themselves, while the princess sat upon the ground in exhaustion, more confused than ever she had been.

The state of near silence persisted for several long, tense minutes. It was eventually broken by Sion, whose gaze turned toward the center of the plaza. "Draw your weapons," he said in an oddly casual manner. In one swift motion, his hand darted to the hilt of his sword, and he brandished it in an extravagant manner, causing his cloak to billow behind him and revealing his black, studded leather garb and breastplate. It appeared as if the mysterious Sion had predicted that combat would prove inevitable.

Though they could not find any discernable reason for doing so, the two mercenaries followed the man's advice and drew their weapons. No sooner had Seth helped Elina to her feet and instructed her to stand behind himself and his brother than a figure cast in shadow seemed to materialize in the center of the uninhabited plaza. Its identity was unmistakable; it was most certainly the same figure that had been watching the small group from atop a building mere minutes ago. Oddly, it was still as black and featureless as a shadow, and seemed to Seth to be almost two-dimensional in nature. Without thinking, Seth pointed his sword in its direction, his eyes fixed upon its vague form.

"What have you come for?" inquired Sion of the figure in as stern and serious a voice as he could muster. His body was poised to strike out at the shadowy being as soon as the need arose.

The figure simply motioned toward Elina with a barely-recognizable hand and muttered a string of hissing, whispered words, only the final two of which were discernable. "Soul…radiance…" It then seemed to compose itself, and said, ever in a whispered manner, "If you bar my path, samurai…you will die…"

Sion simply nodded, his expression one of determination. "As I thought. So be it, fiend; we fight!"

Before any of the three combatants could so much as step forward to engage their opponent, the dark being seemed to contort and melt into a mass of shadow. Suddenly, from roughly the location of where its chest had been, innumerable tendrils of darkness shot forth to engage the three. Seth and Ryn were taken completely by surprise, being struck by several of the odd tentacles, their bodies temporarily filled with a numbing sensation. Sion, however, seemed to preempt the attack, and struck out at the tentacles with surprising speed as they rushed toward him. Again and again he struck at the foul manifestations of utter darkness, but to no avail, for it seemed as if the dark being was capable of sprouting another two tentacles for every one lost. The creature's focus upon Sion was alleviated when Seth and Ryn came to their senses, but, even with the three battling the mass of writhing tendrils at once, the beast showed no signs of weakening.

The battle rapidly increased in intensity, threatening to overwhelm the warriors. However, it did not take long for Sion to formulate a plan, based on the fact that the tentacles would be eliminated if the body of the creature was destroyed. "Draw the spirit of your sword!" he cried suddenly.

Seth was entirely surprised by the statement, taking a moment to comprehend its meaning. Very few existed who knew of his ability to channel and manipulate the inherent energies found in swords, most notably katanas, crafted by blade smiths skilled in the most ancient arts of metalworking. His affinity with the technique known as "draw-out," a rare skill that had all but disappeared from the minds of modern folk, had been taught to him by his father, who had died years ago; Seth did not often share his knowledge of the skill. Thus, it was highly unlikely for any to know of his talent, much less a man he had met a single night before.

"We will keep it occupied!" cried Sion. "Perform the draw-out!"

Seth needed no further prompting. Despite his puzzlement, he leapt away from the dark creature and extended his weapon forward. Much to his surprise, the blade of his katana began to react without any concentration on his part; along its side appeared odd runes that emitted a fierce white light. As a result of this light, Seth found that the tendrils of the creature could not approach him. Time seemed to slow around young mercenary, and he charged forth, his weapon glowing fiercely. If he had been in control of his movements he would have likely noted the expression of surprise on the faces of Sion and his brother; however, as it was, he simply charged forth at an inhuman speed and tore through the dark tentacles much more quickly than they could regenerate. In mere moments he had reached the center of the writhing mass, and he laid into the being with a fury scarce found in humans. Thus, in a matter of seconds, the remains of the dark being had been scattered, and then faded away entirely. At the center of the plaza, which had suddenly become far brighter as if a blanket of clouds had revealed the sun, stood a tired and entirely confused Seth, who sheathed his weapon and asked the awestruck Sion a simple question.

"Is it gone?"

"You're damned right it's gone!" Ryn exclaimed excitedly. "I didn't know you could do that! How did you…?"

Seth did not seem to register anything that his brother said, for he was lost in thought, and mused to himself. "Doesn't make sense…this sword shouldn't be able to…I've never seen…"

In response, Sion smiled darkly. "It confuses me, as well," he said. "Do not concern yourself with it now. All will become clear in time." He paused "It seems that the area is now safe; I believe that I should explain what I can of the situation."

Elina crossed her arms. "It's about time."

"Of course," Sion replied. "It is certainly good that you are concerned, Your Highness; it is you that the dark one was after. I daresay that if you had not been 'kidnapped,' you most certainly would have ended up in their hands. They work through the Rebellion, you know."

"What exactly do they need a stuck-up aristocrat for?" Seth asked, receiving a dark glance from Elina.

Replacing his hood over his head, Sion sighed. "It is not only her that they seek; there are three others, as well, though I know not who they are. I cannot explain who they are, exactly, or why they require the princess, for now is not the time to reveal such matters to you. Regardless, you must guard Elina at all costs."

"Why us?" cried Ryn. "We're no bodyguards. Besides, look at her; she's helpless. She'd be difficult to protect in a combat situation, to say the least."

"You would be surprised at her capability to defend herself," Sion said. He approached the princess and placed a hand upon her chest, closing his eyes in concentration. After several moments, he removed his hand and nodded. "As I thought."

"What exactly does that mean?" Elina asked.

"You are certainly capable in the white aspect of magic. However, the power within you grows by the day. I have a feeling that you will have no problem defending yourself, though you will likely require the aid of these young men."

Seth sighed. "Magic or no magic, she is weaponless."

For a moment, Sion seemed to contemplate Seth's comment. He reached under his cloak and produced a short wooden bow that had most likely been strapped to his back, and then removed a shoulder strap from which hung a quiver of arrows. Handing the items to Elina, he nodded. "Being an aristocrat, you are no doubt versed in at least the basics of archery. Use these well."

Elina accepted the bow and quiver, placing the strap over her shoulder. "Thank you, sir," she said. "I am positive that they will be very useful to me."

Sion seemed not to register the princess' statement; he approached Seth and placed a hand upon the mercenary's shoulder. "I know not what sort of power you released from your sword during your attack, but I am sure that you will discover this during your journey. You must travel east, to the village of Treby; there you will be safe for a time. I know not where your path will lead from there. Remember," he said, his voice becoming quite commanding, "Guard the girl with your life. She must not fall into their hands. Good luck, Seth." Without another word, the mysterious Sion disappeared into the alley from which the group had come.

Seth was quite puzzled. "Ryn," he said, his voice betraying his unease.

"Yes?" his brother responded.

"He knew my name."

"I know," Ryn said, "But that isn't important now. I think we should do what he said and get the hell out of here."

"Right," he said with a nod. "Princess Elina, you are safe with us."