Chapter 6

"Come on, Arlene, I'm not going to the darkness, stop crying!"

Arlene was tearing up because she thought that I was going deeper into the darkness.

"You don't know the dangers, the seductiveness of power!"

"If I can use the darkness against the Dreadlord, it will be enough." I said soothingly. "Do you know who is in charge of the proceedings for the machine that the Dreadlord is building?"

"It's an undead named Kael-Surd. But see: you're obsessed with finding the Dreadlord! I like revenge as much as the next person, but this is insanity!" She had been like this for quite a while. I could waste no more time. I left through a portal of darkness, pulling with me two of the last swordsmen in the city, and wondered just how much of myself I was giving to the darkness.

Wait a minute. Kael-Surd is the one who hurt Vi! When I catch him, I'm going to make him pay for everything he's done! I nursed that though the entire time, holding revenge.

I appeared back in Kadara, near the jail sector. Vi was nearby, I could sense it.

I climbed a ladder to a rooftop and ran towards the center of the jail center. There, in a cell, was Vi.

"Thank god that it's you, Arc!" She sighed. "Can you get me out of here?"

"No problem." I said happily. I was so happy to hear her voice again. I drew out Tainted Shear and with a single slice severed the door from its hinges. Vi gasped.

"Arc, your sword! What happened? It looks as if it's been possessed!"

"It's nothing, Vi." I replied, my good mood evaporating. I did not want to tell her of my growing attraction to the powers of darkness. "I have received information that you might not like. Kael-Surd is an undead, and he is in charge of the building of a huge machine that the Dreadlord Is planning to use to usher in the apocalypse. I want you to know one thing: We are going to kill him."

"Arc… What's happened to you? Is vengeance all that's important to you? What about forgiveness? I've long since forgave Kael-Surd the wrong he did to me, severe as it is."

"Well I haven't. And another thing: if you see Dmitri Stafftide, he's mine!"

She stared at me, and for a moment I saw terror in her gaze. I did not want to look into her soul for fear that I might find that she was afraid of me.

"I'm sorry, Vi, but this is something that I must do."

With that I turned my back on my lover and walked into the street. I would hunt down this Kael-Surd if it was the last thing I did.

It had taken forever to find him.

I had searched the entire city of Kadara, with the exception of the palace, only to find that he was following us.

It started when he leaped at me from behind. He knocked Tainted Shear from my hands. With impressive swiftness, Kael-Surd then proceeded to grab my fallen sword from the ground and strike it into my chest. Suddenly, his eyes widened with terror, and blood began to seep from HIS chest. I said, "The sword you hold, the sword which is mine, cannot harm me, the Night Angel." I had made sure to see about this dark power when I had left it lying around and a krul grabbed it and tried to slay me. "As you have learned, any wound which an individual attempts upon me with the sword, wounds the individual, not me."

"Who… are… you?!" he said

"Tell me what I need to know and it is possible that I can save you." I retorted. The wound was not mortal, but I knew I could play on his fear. Besides, I didn't want to give him a clean death: I wanted him to suffer.

"Of course I will… for a price!"

I picked up Tainted Shear and placed it at his throat. "Is your life a substantial reward?"

Kael-Surd, recognizing the life seeping from his chest, sighed. "Very well… On the day that most of the men in this city left for war, we – Argh…."

The undead captain flopped forward, a throwing knife in his back.

"The fool… My death will mean nothing in the long run anyway…" he gasped as he died.

I sprinted for cover as blades pinged on the ground. I did not know who had done it, but Vi was avenged either way.

Then, from the shadows of the alleyways below us, emerged a dark figure. It had black wings and a black scepter that glowed with a blinding non-light of its own, and water seemed to swirl around him.

A Silent Prophet.

He merely glanced up, and I realized that my shadow had given me away. However, that was secondary to what I now noticed as for the first time I got a good look at his face.

I knew The Silent Prophet.

He was the drunken man that in the past I had fought at the inn, the day that I had first become a Shaka'Do, and he was the man who bore the X shaped scar on his forehead from the day I first escaped the clutches of the Prophets. My father. Dmitri Stafftide.

Dmitri reached to the side and grabbed a bound figure, holding the point of a large scepter to her throat. A pair of black bat wings that I now recognized as Wings of Darkness sprouted from his back. Then Dmitri launched himself upwards, and flew through the skylight up onto the roof.

I shouted. "What are you doing? Look at the destruction you've caused! I am ashamed to call you father!" the swordsmen with me backed off, recognizing that this was something very, very personal.

"I do not jump for joy that you are my son, rebel. You are a disgrace to our order."

"Really? I think I rather improved it." I paused. "You know you can't win here, Dmitri."

"You thought you were so clever to defeat me that time at the inn." Dmitri mocked. ""It'll be different this time, son!"

"Dmitri… Father…" I said slowly. "You killed my friends…" I held up my left arm, the permanently black skin pronounced by the shadow of the clouds. "You destroyed my world."

"Really?" Dmitri asked sarcastically, "I didn't notice. You say that I did all these things to you? I did them with good reason, Arc! You don't know what you did to me, do you?"

"No I don't! Unless you're still sore over your forehead."

"When you destroyed my forehead I had the Mark of Darkness covered by scars. I had to knock a few heads off in the hierarchy in order to regain my status as a Silent Prophet. This was to be my final test of worthiness, and it would have been fine had you not interfered. But I can still pull this off." Dmitri tied Vi to the wall surrounding the palace roof. "And I already have had my revenge. I killed your mother, Arc. Do you know who she was? Her name was Blue. Now I'm going to kill you, my son."

That did it. He killed Blue. That was the only thing which could induce me to kill him, because somewhere in my mind I had always had a deep seated affection for Blue and a link with her that I now recognized as a mother-son relationship. With a bellow of rage I flew at him, Tainted Shear turning yet another shade darker. We were at it hammer and tongues, in a duel which could only be described as terrible. Tainted Shear served me well. Attack – evade. Counterattack – defend. It was like a physical chess match, but far more severe. And the consequences for losing were dire indeed.

Dmitri hurled a wave of water at me and I stumbled back. But before he could strike, I grabbed him and we went careening over the side of the roof. Dmitri flew in a crazy pattern and we landed in the raised yard. He struck at me, and I dodged. I tried a counter attack, and scored a deep slash on his arm. He tried to trip me, and I dodged it. I struck at him, and followed up with a figure-eight. I blocked the next hit. Dmitri started losing, badly. When he saw he could not win, he flew up high into the air, and with a flick of his scepter the debris around us rose into the air, and the courtyard started filling with water. I hurled myself up onto one before it went too high, and jumped to the next one. In this way, I got up to Dmitri's level. I then hurled myself through the air towards him, and when I reached him I snatched the black scepter from his hands and dropped painfully to the ground below, the water having disappeared when I snatched the scepter from him.

"Wait!" Dmitri yelled wildly. "Son!"

"Done waiting!" I retorted, and I snapped the scepter in two. "Father."

"No… How could you…" Dmitri breathed. Then he collapsed to the ground, his wings shriveling up and disappearing. The black on my left arm blew away like sand, and the chain slid off my arm to the ground below. Vi fell from where she had been tied, and I caught her in my arms.

I walked up to Dmitri, and placed my sword at his throat. This was the moment I had dreamed of for the past few days: the Silent Prophet's death.

Then inside me I felt a hint of doubt.

No.

I couldn't kill Dmitri. Like it or not he was my father. Besides, if I killed him now, in cold blood, I would be no better then him.

I lowered my sword.

"Keep your life. I don't want it." I said as I turned my back on him. I felt him charge me from behind, and I started to turn, but knew that I would be far too late. Then I heard a strangled cry, and finished turning to see Vi's sword emerging through the throat of the former Silent Prophet.

"Thank you Vi." I said quietly.

"No problem." She said.

I turned and picked up the shards of my father's black scepter. I felt the power of it flood into me. Tainted Shear turned another shade darker. Then I saw something grab onto Vi from behind, sprout white angel wings, and fly off with her.

"No!" Vi shouted. "What are you doing?!"

"Leave him!" the figure carrying her yelled back. "He's been infected!"

I ignored both of them. Setting Tainted Shear down, I heard the Dreadlord approach behind me.

"What were my duties?" I asked the demon man.

"You were supposed to be one of the strongest Silent Prophets that ever existed." He told me in a convincing tone. He seemed honest. "You were supposed to gain the title of Dreadlord yourself in time, because of your strength. When you were with us, you were my enforcer, the one who carried out the most important deeds of our order, and made sure they were done correctly. Our aim was to cleanse the land of the living, and before your defection, you had just ensured the safe passage of Arlene Blackclaw to Cuerones, where you had suffered injury and memory loss. We brought you back, with the aid of your father and Aran Darkblade, and placed you in a holding cell until your madness was ended. Unfortunately, you escaped, and have been the cause of much trouble since. But now… Do you choose to return to your responsibilities?"

I remembered the power that flowed into Shear whenever I gave in a little to darkness. Could I really have that much power?

"Yes." I said in a voice not my own. "I accept."

"Then it is done." He touched a hand to my sword, and it seemed to glow for an instant.

"Pick it up."

I took up Tainted Shear once again, and felt something inside me wrench away. Then I felt that I was lifted up into the air as I changed. My black hair grew white, and my grey eyes blazed. I felt my face become pale, and my muscles swelled. My clothes became black and grey, with a single silver line down the center. Shear, once a strangely beautiful red and gray sword, turned black and white with dark red effects, and the rune on its end shone like illuminated ice. The sword seemed deadly cold, very unlike the warmth that the blade had always radiated. It seemed to now possess an aura of white, a cold, deadly, and powerful radiance. The cold seemed to flow through the ice-mark on my hand and into my whole being. I felt power surging through me. This is power. I thought. This is the essence of Dark Shear.

"You are no longer Night Angel Arc Caster. Welcome, Night Wraith Kylar Deatheyes." The ground seemed to echo the words of the Dreadlord. "We have long awaited your return. For a while I had begun to think that you had deserted us entirely, especially now that you have done away with two of my Silent Prophets."

"And I am glad to return, Lord of Silence, and I regret the death of Silent Prophet Dmitri Stafftide, and the defection of Arlene Blackclaw." I said reverently. Such a change from when I had last been here, angry, misguided, and tormented, I had actually taken it upon myself to assault the Lord of Silence. But now I returned to my duty, and I would assist them in cleansing the land of the living.

A memory of Vi stole through my mind, and I immediately dispelled it. I couldn't lose focus now.

The Dreadlord walked around to stand in front of me, with two men flanking him, both dressed identically. "You have been deemed unfit to serve as a Silent Prophet. It is obvious that you are above them in skill. You are my chosen one, the Night Wraith. Your first task of redemption is to retrieve the bones of Kael-Surd, whom you slew in your time of wandering. His body lies where you left it. You are to soak his bones in the Water of Eternity and resurrect him so that we may eradicate the living."

"You're Majesty, I must ask, aren't we among the living?" I had to inquire.

"You are neither among the living, nor the dead, although you have the opportunity to become either one. But do you not enjoy the power you now have? The strength, the energy, the power?"

Yes. The power was exhilarating. I saluted my ruler and turned to go.

"Wait a moment, Night Wraith Kylar Deatheyes." One of the men flanking the Lord of Silence stepped forward, idly holding a fiery Charkam. "I am Silent Prophet Illidan Flamewheel, and I am ordered to assist you in your mission."

"Very well." I said to him. I bowed to the Lord of Silence, and departed with Illidan.

My name was Kylar Deatheyes. I was the Night Wraith. I could see, hear, smell, taste and feel things in the dark far better then before. My agility was heightened to almost superhuman. I was very, very strong. My new resources, plus an amazing amount of endurance, made me a foe to be feared.

I was given command of two platoons of the black skeletons, which I learned were called krul, with two archfiends as their commanders. We travelled night and most of the next day to arrive at the outpost that had been set up around the area where I had slain Kael-Surd.

One of the swordsmen I had taken here earlier stepped forward, with his two-edged sword drawn. "Is that you, Arc? Why do you betray us this way? What happened to the way the krul massacred people of Elanor? Who do you think you are, to come to us this way? Night Angel indeed, faugh! You are more like a Night Demon!"

A single swing of Dark Shear brought an end to his anger. With a touch, his dead form arose as a mindless krul. I smiled coldly. The enemy's dead only bolstered my own forces.

"Bring me the bones of the Necromancer Kael-Surd!" I ordered the remaining, terrified swordsman. He ran to obey. When he arrived with the bones, I placed them reverently in a large urn that I had brought for the purpose.

"I told you that my death would mean nothing in the long run." The bones spoke.

"You bear me no ill will for your death?" I said, surprised.

"No. It was the Lord of Silence's will for me to die so that you would become his champion. And am I not here anyway?"

That made sense, although I did not like being manipulated. A shadow of doubt flickered through my mind.

"Kylar Deatheyes, we have company." Illidan Flamewheel's voice cut through me. I turned and saw a company of knights on horseback riding towards us. In front of them was a middle-aged man in white robes.

"Beware of the white one. He's a powerful mage." I cautioned him. "He has captured Silent Prophets before."

"I'll be all right, Kylar." He sounded much less formal now. In fact, his voice carried a tinge of admiration. "I trust that you can handle him."

Looking past the wizard, I examined the rest of their forces, but I saw one among them that made my undead heart freeze. A woman with fiery red hair and sharp green eyes

Vi.

Instantly my heart started pounding.

She stopped when she saw me. I could feel the heat of her gaze as she took in the black clothes, the paleness of my skin, the whiteness of my hair, and the drastic changes in Shear. I saw the feelings that she had for me and felt my eyes flash from a cold deadly grey to an icy blue, and saw the love in her soul that despite the huge odds she still held for me.

Could I be wrong? I wondered. Could all that I have fought for, all that I have sacrificed be for the wrong cause?

It didn't matter. I was pledged to serve the Dreadlord, and my will could not contend.

I raised Dark Shear in a warrior's salute.

"Greeting's noble mage. I doubt that you will allow us to continue if you can help it. Am I wrong?"

"Arc, what is wrong with you?" Vi cried. "Your face… Your hair… your sword…"

"Quiet, Vi!" Mavin interrupted. "They are undead krul, and not to be trusted!"

"Is that what you think?" I laughed softly. "The Silent Prophets have honor, Mavin. As do I, in case you have forgotten."

"Nevertheless you are now a traitor. I am ashamed to think that you were ever on our side. I am ashamed that one so strong in the light could have been brought to this by the darkness. Know that because of your betrayal I am your enemy!"

"I do not fear you, Mage. You are still only third level." I lifted Dark Shear into a pose for combat. "Every light must fade, and every light return to darkness!"

"Wrong, Night Demon." Mavin said quietly. "Darkness has no physical definition; it is simply the absence of light."

"This may be true," I countered, "But every light has its shadow, and even the brightest candle may be snuffed out."

There were no more words, only the sound of steel on steel as both sides met in the dance of death.