Hey, guys! Welcome back to Into the Dark! And look, I didn't miss another update!
...kind of. You see, due to difficulties in getting these chapters done on time because I have school through most of the week, I've decided to move my schedule so that this story will update every Sunday instead, giving me an extra weekend day to finish things up! Hopefully it'll help me get these chapters up when they're supposed to be!
Also, random side note: you might have noticed that in every odd numbered chapter, there's a book excerpt (kind of like what I did in the original RFL with having there be a flashback in every even numbered chapter), and up until now, they've all directly tied into the story with Jack actually reading the book in question. That won't be the case each time, like in this chapter. The book excerpt will always be relevant to what's going on, but it won't always be directly incorporated into the story! Just thought I'd clear that up! (Also, the author's name will always be either a reference or some sort of pun...see if you can get them all ;) That being said, let's move on to reviews!
Thanks so much to the lone reviewer this time around, TheSinPride! Ah, an old reader, I see. Good to have you back!
With that done, on with the chapter!
Chapter 5: The Bandits' Hideout
The Art of Stealth
By Saul Idsnek
When you're in enemy territory, hiding from a pursuer, or simply just in a place where you shouldn't be, the most important thing to do is maintain a strict, constant silence. You must not breathe deeply, nor cough, nor sneeze. Wearing loose-fitting clothing that easily shifts or carrying equipment that clanks or rattles is also detrimental to complete silence. If you must move around, be sure to maintain a certain stance (See diagram on Page 12) in order to keep your weight balanced so you can avoid stepping heavily.
Never forget to painstakingly consider your enemies' lines of sight. Stay close to the shadows (wearing dark clothing is preferable while doing this) to avoid detection. Remain low to the ground and carefully listen for any activity before turning a corner. Constantly check behind you to ensure that you are not being followed. If applicable, travel on higher ground than anyone who might be looking at you. Trees, rafters, rooftops, or cliffs also work well.
Increased speed is almost never worth risking alerting your enemy to your presence. Move slowly and deliberately as long as you are not in immediate, life-threatening danger. This will decrease your likelihood of accidentally bumping into something or knocking an object over. Running creates more sound than walking or crawling ever could.
If you know of any cloaking magic, use it. Anything that makes it harder for you to be detected will be nothing but beneficial to you. Spells or potions that induce invisibility, camouflage, soundlessness, transfiguration (perhaps into a small animal to sneak around or an inanimate object for hiding purposes), or various illusions are boons that are not to be taken lightly. Not many are able to possess the gift of magic, so if you are one of the lucky ones, take full advantage of your abilities.
It is not unwise to carry a weapon with you while traversing dangerous territory. Preferably, something long-ranged, such as a bow or offensive magic. Throwing knives are also useful due to their capability of performing at both long and close range. However, only use violence under very specific circumstances. Before taking action, ask yourself two things:
One: Am I absolutely unable to continue forward without inducing bloodshed?
Two: If my actions alert other enemies, will I realistically be able to either evade them or fight them off?
If you cannot answer affirmatively to either of these questions, DO NOT ENGAGE. Avoid taking absurd risks and instead stick to the shadows to preserve your life.
()()()()
Navigating through total darkness, though difficult for most other races, was of no issue to a snow sprite. Built specifically for the long winters of Iskald, in which the sun set early and rose late, sprites could use a small fraction of their magic to illuminate their own eyes, allowing them to safely traverse a significantly darkened area. Jack, of course, was no exception. His snowflake-patterned eyes glowed a soft azure as he navigated the tunnel leading down into the bandits' hideout, ensuring that there were no guards waiting to intercept him.
Admittedly, the resemblance to the entrance of the lair of the Nightmare King unnerved him. The dark, winding tunnels were just similar enough to send a shiver down Jack's spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. Memories of panic attacks and nightmares flooded back to him, to the point where he was forced to temporarily stop moving in order to let his gradually quickening breathing even out.
Calm yourself, Jack… he mentally scolded himself. This is nothing like the fight with the Nightmare King...you're going up against a group of non-magical amateurs...all you need to do is go in, freeze and tie them up, and get those children out of here...you'll be fine…there's no reason to panic...
Once he had finally sufficiently relaxed (though he was still decidedly rather on-edge), the boy began moving once again, constantly internally reminding himself that he was not in any real danger. He was logically aware of this fact, of course-human bandits stood no chance against a fully-powered (and immortal to boot) snow sprite. Still, it was becoming increasingly obvious to him that an extreme discomfort in regard to underground spaces had developed within him since he and the other Guardians had stormed the Nightmare King's lair.
Jack gritted his teeth slightly, glowing eyes narrowing in annoyance. Why is this affecting me so much now…? he thought frustratedly as he moved, trying to ignore his shaking hands. The "being underground" part of everything was never what bothered me about that ordeal...I suppose it merely...reminds me of everything…
Indeed, he was finding it difficult to push back the old memories related to the den of evil. He remembered breaking down before entering the tunnel in the center of his destroyed home. He remembered needing to be blinded and deafened in order to make it through without panicking once more. He remembered learning the truth about the near-decimation of his race, as well as the fates of the snow sprite children-turned-Fearlings. He remembered watching the Nightmare King's daughter's life slip away before his very eyes. He remembered the searing pain in his chest when his staff was broken in half. He remembered the glittering amber eyes of Pitch Black, the Nightmare King himself, gazing triumphantly upon the weakened Guardians.
Most of all, he remembered being very, very afraid.
And though time had passed, much of that fear had stayed with him.
Jack abruptly shook his head to clear it of his own dark thoughts. I have to stay focused… he thought firmly, clenching his fingers into fists to keep his hands from continuing to tremble. Those children need me...I can't let them down by sitting here and moping about the past…
A few deep breaths later, he was off again, soon approaching the spot where the entrance tunnel widened out into the main area of the bandits' hideout. As he drew closer, he reached a point where dim light began to stream its way into the tunnel. Jack allowed the glow to fade from his eyes as he slowed his pace, carefully creeping towards the end of the dark path. He kept low to the ground, using the shadows to his advantage, though he mentally wished he still possessed a hood to cover his reflective silver hair.
Too late to worry about that now, he silently acknowledged. Not that I'll need to concern myself with stealth for much longer…
Soon, he reached a spot that was as close as he could get to the main room without moving into the light. Crouching there for now, his eyes swept over as much of the area as he could see, careful to take in everything he could before making his move.
The first thing he noticed was that there were about a dozen Motorean children huddled together against the back wall, each one restrained with a thick length of rope. Jack's heart almost immediately filled with sympathy for them-each one of them looked absolutely terrified. They all seemed to be about seven or eight years old, and though they were all uninjured, Jack knew that the confusion, fear, and uncertainty of what would happen next had to be taking a toll on them. Inwardly, Jack reminded himself to thank North for suggesting providing the children with blankets and stuffed toys upon rescuing them. From the looks of it, they would need all the comfort that they could get.
The young sprite reluctantly tore his gaze away from the children in order to look around the rest of the room. From what he could see, there were seven bandits present. Two of them appeared to be standing guard a few feet away from the children while three more were watching the final two argue heatedly. Their yelling was completely in Motorish, so Jack couldn't understand a word of what they were saying, but he decidedly didn't care all that much. It was likely that their argument had something to do with their kidnapping plan or their desire for ransom, and if Jack got his way, neither of those topics would be relevant for much longer.
He took a silent deep breath and tightened his grip on his staff, allowing a thin coat of frost to spread across its wooden surface. Alright, he thought, eyes narrowing. Time to act…
In one swift motion, he flung himself out of the tunnel and into the bandits' midst.
()()()()
It had been remarkably easy for Jack to incapacitate and restrain each and every one of the bandits in the lair. Once he had done so, he had freed the children, then called to Kyro and Rivahn to help him clear out the hideaway. In the end, the criminals were taken to prison and the children were given blankets and toys, then promptly returned to their immensely grateful parents.
From what Jack had heard, one of the bandits had actually managed to escape the guards' grasps just before they had reached the prison, but Captain Terrah had assured Jack that the man would be caught once more without his help. Jack was a bit reluctant to leave the issue as it was without offering any help, but after a bit of convincing, he at last conceded that the city guards were perfectly capable of rounding up one rogue man.
As he was not due back in Soluna City for another few days, Jack decided to not leave Sahran until around noon the next day. The people in the city insisted on celebrating the return of their children that night, and so the young Guardian, while still not entirely accustomed with interacting with so many strangers at once, politely accepted the thanks offered to him. He was also offered a number of gifts and rewards, but respectfully turned most of them down, on account of the fact that he was merely doing his job and wasn't asking anything in return. The one gift he did accept, however, was a messily-drawn "thank you" card collectively made by the children he had saved, which was paired with a small stuffed bear-an extra toy from the heap that North had sent with him.
His heart had nearly melted right then and there when they had all shuffled up to present it to him. There was no possible way that he could have refused such a gift.
Soon, it came time for him to saddle up Zephyr and take his leave. When he did, he was seen off by a large crowd of people wishing him well. They called out in words he could not understand, but he could feel the gratitude radiating from them like a beacon, and the sensation warmed his heart and brought a smile to his face.
This… he thought as Zephyr reached the edge of town. This is why I'm a Guardian. To help people like these...to make them happy.
Smile never fading, he kicked Zephyr's sides, and within moments, boy and stallion were once again streaking across the desert, only this time, they were on their way home.
()()()()
No more than an hour into their return trip, Jack came across a sight that caused him to quickly reign in Zephyr and jump off the horse's back. He took a few steps forward, then his eyes widened as he confirmed what he had thought he had seen.
There was a person lying prone in the sand.
Jack quickly began to hurry over to them, but hesitated once he got close. Something felt...wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on why.
Gritting his teeth in frustration with himself, Jack quickly pushed the strange thoughts away and called out, "Are you alright!?" He had no idea if the person would even understand a word he said, but figured that it was worth a try.
There was no answer.
Jack gulped nervously and came closer. He couldn't tell if the person was even breathing, given that their entire body was covered in a long cloak. For a moment, he feared the worst.
"Excuse me…?" he tried anyway. "Can...can you hear me…?"
There was a long beat of silence in which Jack held his breath in apprehension. Finally, however, there was a slight, masculine-sounding murmur from the figure, causing Jack to exhale in relief.
"Can you understand me at all…?" he asked as he came closer, kneeling right in front of the fallen man. "I'm afraid I don't speak any Motorish, but...I'll do my best to help if you-"
Suddenly, Jack's words turned into a sharp gasp as the man suddenly jerked up and grabbed one of the boy's wrists. There was a glint of silver from somewhere within the folds of the man's cloak, and immediately afterwards, a searing pain shot through the palm of Jack's left hand as the dagger pierced it, tearing an agonized scream from the boy's throat.
At the sound of his rider's pain, Zephyr spooked, whinnying frantically and rearing up on his hind legs. Wordlessly, the man produced another dagger and flung it at the terrified horse, just barely managing to graze the stallion's flank. Before Jack could even think about doing anything, the white horse panicked even more, this time charging away to avoid being attacked again.
"Z-Zeph-!" Jack shouted, voice tight with pain, but he soon found that he had much greater problems than his runaway horse. Upon looking back at his attacker, the snow sprite saw that the man's hood had fallen with the swiftness of his last movement. Jack's eyes widened in horror.
The escaped bandit.
O-Of course… Jack thought, uninjured hand already twitching in an attempt to form a blast of ice. This is for revenge...he must have traveled this route last night and waited for me here...damn it...what kind of fool would venture into the blazing hot desert for this long just for a shot at vengeance!?
Jack quickly lifted his hand to shoot his prepared ice blast, but faltered when the bandit ripped his dagger out of the boy's other palm, creating a new wave of pain coursing through him. Jack had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out again, and before he could get his bearings in order to finish his attack, the bandit suddenly reached down and forcefully pulled at something around the sprite's neck.
Jack's heart nearly stopped as the object gave way, releasing its hold on his neck and allowing itself to be pulled away in the man's grasp.
The...the cooling amulet…
The stifling heat hit Jack like a ton of bricks, forcing him down out of his kneeling position and onto his back in the sand. He felt every ounce of strength leave his muscles as his vision began to blur and his lungs began to constrict in the scorching, unbelievably dry air.
Through his increasingly clouded senses, Jack could just barely make out the man standing over him and growling what were surely a few Motorean expletives before spitting in the sand beside his prone form. Then, the bandit was gone, leaving nothing for Jack's unfocused eyes to look at but the cloudless sapphire sky.
D-Damn it...he thought dizzily, struggling against the tempting pull of unconsciousness. A...a trap...how...could I have been...so...stupid…?
Against his will, the boy's eyes closed as the unbearable heat continued to sap his strength, robbing him of the coldness that his body needed to survive. Little by little, his consciousness slipped away, leaving his weakened form at the mercy of the blazing desert sun.
...see you next week. :)
'Til then, Sapphire316, out.