Chapter 8 – Wed to Darkness

"Brogan... I..." Edwynn stammered. There were no words.

"Don't blame yourself Ed." The creature turned towards the fireplace. "I told you to open the book. I knew what would happen. I knew… what I would become."

The beast looked down at his hands. It looked at its black fingers and inch long claws. The creature's strength seemed to ebb. Its shoulders drooped and began to shudder. Then it threw back its head and howled. It was a cry of anguish, of a soul that had been lost.

"It's not fair!" The creature closed a fist and punched the mantelpiece. "I had not choice! Was I supposed to just die? Was I supposed to let them win? Let them slaughter everyone and escape unscathed with their prize? They would have killed me! They would have killed Edwynn! Light knows what they've already done to Myrista! I can't… Stop it!" The creature whirled and confronted the air in front of the fireplace. "Stop! Stop laughing at me! I hate you! I'll destroy you!"

Brogan grabbed the book and slammed it shut. He squeezed its covers together seeming to try to crush the pages themselves.

"Brogan… what are you doing?" Edwynn braced himself against the table, and began to stand up.

"It's the book Edwynn. It's all the book's fault. Everything! EVERYTHING! She's in there. She's the one whose fault this is." Opening the tome, he began tearing the pages out.

Edwynn looked around the room. The charred corpses of the bandits still smoldered. The door they hand entered through was the only exit. There were no windows or other escape routes. The screams of the men dying surly a alarmed anyone within earshot. Why were no more bandits coming? There had been plenty of time.

"Brogan…" Edwynn started to say. Was that even it's name? The black-skinned creature with glowing eyes. How much of his friend was still inside that thing. Crouching on the floor, the warlock was tearing page after page from the book.

"Brogan, I don't think we can stay here."

"This hurts her." Brogan slowly tore a page in half. "You don't like it when I do this, do you? No, I didn't think so. How about if I burn you, huh? I bet you'd hate that." Brogan cackled manically as he gathered up some of the torn pages and threw them into the fireplace.

"We can't stay here…" Edwynn looked back and forth from the doorway to the warlock. He wrestled with the urge to abandon Brogan and just flee, but something held him there. Part of it was fear that if he encountered more Defias, he would need Brogan's magic to escape alive. The other was a strange sense of responsibility. Part of him felt that Brogan would still be himself if not for the fact that Edwynn had opened the book.

Don't you get it Edwynn? There's nobody coming. She's seen to that. You see, there's a demon in book. She's trapped here. While the book was closed and sealed, her abilities were diminished. But now she's free to use her powers. Powers of corruption and manipulation. She tricks people into doing what she wants. That's how her magic works.

Those words struck a cord in Edwynn's mind. Something else Jorik had said that morning.

"How do you do it Jorik?" Edwynn smiled.

"What?" Jorik's eyes smiled back, but his face was firm.

"Get people to give you what you want and have them be glad to do it?"

"It comes from watching people kid. You would know that if you had been paying attention to all the things I've been telling you…"

"Brogan, stop. Stop!" Edwynn stumbled forward. It could have been the most foolish thing he had ever done. He grabbed Brogan's writs as the spellcaster was about to throw more pages into the fireplace. To his surprise, Brogan's transformation apparently did not give him any additional strength. They wrestled for a moment. "Look! Brogan, look at the fireplace!"

Smoldering red eyes turned towards the blaze. In the center of the firepit was a blackened pile of ash from the destroyed pages. Brogan watched as the ashes flowed together and formed a shape. Charred pages gave way to pale flesh. In seconds the ash was gone, and a hand and forearm remained. It was a woman's hand. The flesh was supple and fair, with long delicate fingers. At the end of each digit was a blood red fingernail at least an inch long and slightly curved.

"How… how did you know?"

"You said yourself that she's trapped in the book, and she has the power to manipulate people. She wants you to burn the pages."

"You're right." Brogan frowned at the fistful of torn pages in his hands. She set me up. She transformed me into this… thing, and she knew I would hate her for it. Hate her so much that the first thing I would do would be to destroy the book. And by doing so, release her from her prison. Well bitch, we'll have none of that!"

Brogan ran to the table and began to search it. After a couple of seconds he found what he was looking for: the silver mechanism that had held the book's clasp closed. Returning to the damaged tome, he rudely shoved the remaining torn pages between the covers and slammed the book shut. He then began to pull the clasp closed.

"Will that work?" Edwynn asked.

"I have no idea." Brogan struggled against the locking system. "This clasp is enchanted. While it was secured, I could only hear her in my sleep. She would talk to me in dreams. Now that it's open I can hear her talking like she's right next to me. Bah." Brogan released the book and covered his ears. "Ed, she's too distracting! I need your help!"

Edwynn knelt down and looked at the clasp. The silver mechanism was star shaped, and the bronze clasp had an obvious indentation in it. He took the star and moved to place it in it's place. As he did, he felt his stomach lurch. An unreasonable fear filled his body. Something was wrong. He must not seal the book. Something dreadful would happen if he did.

"Yes Edwynn!" Brogan screamed. "Do it! She's terrified! Don't stop!"

Gritting his teeth, the boy pressed the star into the clasp. He turned it, and a clicking noise could be heard. Instantly the fear and dread vanished. Edwynn felt himself gasp for breath.

"Oh thank the Light." Brogan slumped forward. "You did it. She's gone." The black lips smiled, and the warlock started laughing then. Real laughter. Human laughter. As Edwynn watched, the fangs retracted somewhat, and Brogan's fingernails seemed to shrink. But the shade of his skin did not change, nor did his eyes.

"Brogan, are you… gonna be okay?"

The laughter stooped and Brogan looked at his hands. Turning his left hand palm up, Edwynn could see that there was the wound from the dagger, still open and bleeding. The magical skin did not heal over.

"No. I'll never be okay. I've sworn the blood pact. I've traded my soul for power over flame and shadow. I think…" He looked up from his hand to lock Edwynn's gaze. His once blue eyes now glowed the burnt orange of dying coals.

"I think you should kill me."

"No way! I need you to help me get out of here alive."

They both turned to the doorway. If it had been the demon's magic that was keeping them from being discovered, Edwynn knew they would have to move quickly to escape. He stood up and took a quick assessment of his situation. He was in a bandit stronghold, probably in the foothills east of the manor. He was hurt, tired, and hungry, with his cloths torn. And he had no weapon.

The answer to the last problem turned out to be harder than he thought. Mic's long dagger lay in the corner where Brogan had dropped it. It's blade was still coated in the young man's blood. Maybe he was being superstitious, but he didn't want to touch it. The second bandit, the one who had burning to death his knife had landed under him. It now laid somewhere under the charred and smoking remains of his corpse. Edwynn did not think he had the intestinal fortitude to move the body without vomiting.

This left the final bandit's body. Edwynn walked over to his corpse. His shriveled grey skin and white hair remained as markers of how he died. Edwynn turned him over and pulled them man's knife from his belt. It was plain, short, and straight. The boy smiled in grim irony. Of all the weapons he had seen tonight, this one was the first that he actually liked. He quickly undid the dead bandit's belt and took the knife's sheath. The bandit also had a money pouch, so Edwynn took that too without bothering to count what was inside. As he finished, he noticed that the dead man's hardened boots were in much better condition than his own.

Brogan had found a satchel on the table. Into it he stuffed the green demon-tome, and anything else on the table that he thought might be useful. The gemstone that had been resting on the top shelf of the glass cabinet in Crownguard manor was among the items on the table. When it was reasonably full, the glowing eyed boy shouldered the bag. Then he looked down at his torn and blood soaked school robes. He shrugged his shoulders helplessly and turned to his friend.

"Lets go, we have to hurry."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Edwynn had finished pulling the boots off the corpse. They were too big, but better blisters than more frozen toes. He pulled them on and was hastily tying the laces when a voice cried out from the hallway.

"Gregor? Where in damnation are you?"

Edwynn slipped under the table and into the shadows. Brogan wheeled around looking for a place to hide, but it was too late. A bandit appeared at the door. His mask was on and his dagger already drawn before he even looked into the room. He saw Brogan and his eyes widened in surprise. He cried out and rushed into the room.

Brogan shouted out a word in the demon language. His enemy grunted in agony, but did not pause. The bandit closed the distance and slashed the warlock with his blade. Steel bit into enchanted skin and drew very real blood. The man slashed wildly, opening more gashes in Brogan's body. The cloth wearing caster tried raising his arms to protect himself, but to little effect. He had seconds to live.

Edwynn slipped out from under the table. Moving silently up behind the bandit, he found his target completely exposed. Without a sound Edwynn stabbed him directly in the back. Two inches of steel burst forward from the man's chest as the knife penetrated to the hilt. His victim gurgled and fell wordlessly to the floor.

"What happened to your magic?" Edwynn asked as he wrenched his knife free. Brogan said nothing. The warlock tore the rest of his robe off and used it to wrap his bleeding arms.

"Can't you heal yourself?"

Smoldering eyes shot him a vicious look. "Warlock magic is not like the magic of the Light. To heal myself, I must draw on the life force of others. I have to concentrate. I need to focus. It's a little hard to do while someone is cutting me to pieces!"

"Sorry…" Edwynn muttered. He looked down at the corpse of at his feet and it occurred to him that he had just killed this man. A distant voice in his mind told him that it was odd that he didn't feel remorse or sorry about what he had done. He man was obviously a murderer, and would have killed him if he had been given a chance. Turning around, Edwynn stepped to the doorway. Peaking around the edge, he saw several other doors, and at the end of the hallway was a large room. He saw a window there, and the blackness of night just beyond it.

"I see an exit." Edwynn said. "Let's get out of here."

"Not without Myrista." Brogan replied.

'By the Light I'd totally forgotten her.' Edwynn thought to himself. "I don't suppose you saw where they took her?"

"Actually they said they were taking her to the cellar. The woman with the hounds had some questions for me, which is why I was dumped up here."

"Stay here a sec." Edwynn slipped out into the hallway and moved towards the larger room at the end. The bandit hideout appeared to be some lord's house that was converted for use by these scoundrels. The hallway brought him to the main foyer. It was the same room where Crasius had broken his nose. It was currently unoccupied. Several doors led to other wings of the house, and a main set of double-doors near the window seemed to lead outside.

'I can slip away right now. It's the middle of the night out there. With luck and patience they'll never find me.' But even as he thought about leaving he found himself moving back towards Brogan. He didn't quite understand why, but it felt like the right thing to do. "This way" Edwynn gestured for the warlock to follow him in the opposite direction from the main entrance.

"How do you know it's this way?" Brogan asked as he moved up behind the rogue.

"Cellars are usually connected to kitchens, and kitchens are usually at the rear of large houses." Approaching the door at the end of the hall he pressed his ear against the wood. Gesturing to Brogan to be quiet, he listened for a slow count to ten. Hearing nothing, he turned the knob. Finding it unlocked, he slipped quickly inside.

The room was indeed a kitchen. Edwynn never imagined he would be so happy to see half a loaf of stale bread, or smelly Darnassian Bleu. He literally leapt across to the cheese and shoved the wedge whole into his mouth. Brogan entered more slowly, and made a face as Edwynn almost choked trying to swallow. Pulling the satchel from his shoulders, he grabbed a handful of nearby sausage links and stuffed them into the bag. "We can eat later." He remarked critically.

Edwynn's throat was so stuffed he couldn't answer. Reaching for a nearby wineskin, he took a long draught to wash the cheese down. It was filled with plain water, but he didn't care. Brogan took one look at this and swooped forward like a hawk. Black-skinned fingers snatched the skin from Edwynn's hands, and the warlock upended the container directly into his mouth. Amazingly, the caster didn't spill a drop.

Brogan lowered the empty skin and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I didn't realize how thirsty I was."

"It's okay. You lost a lot of blood. I'm surprised you can even stand up." Edwynn gave his friend a crooked smile. It could have been his imagination, but the glow had diminished from Brogan's eyes, and he could almost see their original color.

His comment seemed to steal some of the levity from his friend's mood. "The demon magic makes my skin thicker, and it regrows faster." Pulling the bloody rags from his arms, Brogan revealed that the wounds he received minutes ago had completely scabbed over. "In an hour, these will be completely gone."

"Can you die?"

"Of course I can die." Brogan looked at him like it was the stupidest question in the world. "If you cut my head off or stop my heart. But I can recover from almost any wound, given enough time. At least, that's what she told me."

There was a sound from the corner of the kitchen. Both boys wheeled around. A heavy oak door was closed near the back of the room. Muffled voices could be heard, raised in argument. They grew louder, and the sounds of heavy feet ascending a staircase could be heard.

Edwynn glanced at the door's hinges. It opened into the kitchen. The rogue tapped Brogan on the shoulder and gestured for him to duck under the table. The warlock obeyed wordlessly. Edwynn drew his knife and dashed towards the door. Pressing himself against the stone wall nearest the hinges, he listened to the voices.

"…chain of command means he gets the girl first and you know that." The first voice said loudly. From the sounds of the footsteps, there were at least two men coming up.

"I don't care what Garrik says. A fine filly like that makes a man's blood boil. Now I'm tired of just look'n at her." The knob turned and the door opened, hiding Edwynn from view. The boy could not see who came up the steps, so he listened as the first set of boots sounded in the kitchen. He waited two full heartbeats, then acted.

Throwing all his weight against the heavy oak door, Edwynn rammed it closed just as the second man was stepping across the threshold. Whoever was about to walk through the door had it slammed in their face. Their hand was caught between the closing portal and the door frame, and Edwynn was certain he heard fingers breaking. Grabbing the doorknob, Edwynn opened the door just enough that the hand was no longer pinned, and whoever had been on the other side could be heard tumbling backwards down the stairs.

The first man through the door had been caught completely by surprise. He had his back to the cellar door, and when he turned around to hear the noise, he saw Edwynn for the first time. He was a bandit like the others, with black leather and a red bandana. He pulled out his own knife just as Edwynn pulled away from the door.

Brogan rose from under the table as the two combatants faced each other. He started chanting in the demonic tongue. Edwynn saw the bandit glance at the warlock, and remembered the last fight. Knowing he had to keep the brigand occupied until Brogan's magic was complete, Edwynn moved in and slashed with his knife. It was a sloppy swing, designed to distract. The bandit growled and focused all of his attention back on Edwynn.

Blades crossed in the air. It took all of his speed and cunning for Edwynn to match the bandit's moves. Eventually the boy's luck ran out, and his enemy opened a long gash in Edwynn's arm. After that, the enemy moved in with a quick jab and suddenly locked up the dark haired boy's weapon with his own.

"Gotcha now!" The bandit grunted and smiled. As he did, blood started to trickle down his nose. Edwynn managed to twist his knife free and tried to back away across the kitchen. The bandit moved to follow. Both nostrils were bleeding now. The man didn't seem to notice at first. He was too intent on the wounded rogue. But as he absent-mindedly wiped his hand across his lips, he stopped suddenly. Looking down at his bloodstained glove, he coughed. His spittle was red. He glanced up at Edwynn, then across the table to Brogan. More blood began so seep from his ears.

"You did this?" he asked stupidly.

Brogan was already casting another spell. He was holding his hands aloft, canting words of magic. Streams of darkness coiled around his fingers like sentient smoke. They coalesced on palms into what looked like black thunderclouds laced with green lightning. The bandit charged him, but it was too late. The bolt of shadow leapt from Brogan's hand and struck his foe directly in the torso. The man made no noise. He just grabbed his chest and plummeted face first to the ground.

'Light be merciful.' Edwynn thought to himself. Shaking his head violently, he forced himself to focus on the dangers at hand. Cradling his wounded arm to his chest, the boy stepped around the body and moved back to his original hiding spot next to the door.

"That'll never work twice." Brogan said.

"Actually it would, only because it's the last thing they'd expect."

Edwynn stood his ground. Brogan steeped back as far as possible in the kitchen and held his hands up, ready to cast another spell.

They stood like that for almost half a minute, but no one came up the stairs. Brogan's nervous glances towards the main hall reminded Edwynn that they were probably already out of time. Finally Edwynn grabbed the door handle and swung open the entrance to the cellar.

Wooden stairs descended into darkness. Edwynn looked down, letting his eyes adjust. The entire time he waited to hear the crossbow bolt or thrown knife that would end his days. No noise came.

Moving as quietly as possible, the rogue descended the rickety wooden stairs. Near the bottom he found the body of the man he had slammed the door on. He had landed on his neck, which had shattered under the stress. He was dead. Dropping down the rest of the staircase, Edwynn turned to scan for more bandits. He didn't see any, but he did find a something far more important.

Any human boy over the age of nine has had a fantasy about rescuing a princess. Some nobleman's daughter, kidnapped by ruffians or an orcish warchief. She was usually held in a high tower where the hero would dash in, slaughtering foes left and right. And at the end, the beautiful damsel would waiting tied to a wall. As he freed her, she would reward her hero with a kiss and they would ride off into the sunset together.

Edwynn found that the detail in reality somehow stole a great deal of the romance.

Firstly, there had only been the two guards. They were now both dead, so there would be no dashing sword fight to impress the young lady. Secondly, the cellar was dank and nasty. A single sputtering lantern weakly lit the natural earth walls. Myrista was chained to a support pillar by both wrists and her neck. She was wearing her fancy blue dinner dress, and it was torn, rainsoaked, and filthy. The top of her face was covered in an elaborate black leather mask and a gag. Far from the fairy tale image of beauty, she lay against the pillar, shivering and miserable.

Edwynn dashed to her side and began working to release her. The instant he touched her she started screaming. The gag muffled her cries, but they were still more than loud enough to be heard upstairs.

. Brogan ran back up to close the door before more bandits heard the sound and came to investigate. "Quiet! Myrista you have to be quiet!" Edwynn tried whispering to her to calm her down, but if she heard him at all, she wasn't paying attention. She kicked out blindly and managed to strike him directly in the shin. It probably hurt her more than him. The pain, as well as her struggling, was really staring to piss Edwynn off. Whatever the leather headpiece was that the bandits put on her, it was making it so that she couldn't hear anything Edwynn was saying to calm her down.

Frustration and pain drove Edwynn to more direct action. Sternly grabbing the top of her head, the rogue twisted her hard and began pulling at the knot that held her gag in place. She stopped resisting then. Finishing that, he pulled her gag off and began removing her headpiece.

"Thank you, stranger." She said softly as she stretched her stiffened jaw. Something about the way she said it set Edwynn on edge.

"It's me." He finished unlacing the elaborate black leather headpiece. "It's…"

Myrista spoke a word and pain exploded within Edwynn's mind. He cried out and fell backwards. It felt as if somehow a burning ember was being pressed right behind his eyes. He screamed, grabbed his face, and began writing on the floor.

"That will teach you to imprison a priestess of the Light, you sick bastard." Myrista thrashed her head against the pillar, throwing off the leather harness. "I swear if you touch me I'll… Edwynn!"

Immediately the pain vanished like it had never existed. Edwynn gasped for air and sat up on the dirty floor.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, her voice choking.

"Rescuing you, of course." Edwynn blinked, still recovering from the pain.

"By the Light, you… you came for me. You…" She started sobbing uncontrollably.

'So like a girl.' Edwynn gritted his teeth and stood up. His nose hurt, his arm was bleeding, and his whole body ached. He was about to lay into her about the amount of noise her carrying on was making, but a soft cough behind him caught his attention. Brogan was standing in the shadows at the base of the stairs, near the body. He tossed something metal to Edwynn. It was a key, presumably for the prisoner's chains.

Edwynn came forward and began to remove her bonds. The whole time Myrista was crying and babbling about her ordeal. Edwynn only half listened to her stories about being chained up, poked, kicked, and sworn at. Somehow they had known that she was a priestess, and had gagged her straight away back at the manor, to stop her magic. Her guards had made great fun threatening her, but apparently as yet she had not been seriously harmed.

Edwynn removed the last of her shackles. As soon as she was free Myrista threw her arms around his chest, crushing herself against him. "Thank the Light you came. Oh thank the Light. I thought I was doomed. I thought…"

"It's okay Myrista… Look… You're fine now… Stop it." Edwynn tried to disentangle himself from her.

"We gotta go!" Brogan's voice carried a great deal of impatience, and something else too. Myrista jumped at his voice, noticing for the first time that they were not alone.

"Brogan? Edwynn rescued you too? Bless the Light I thought you were dead!"

The warlock said nothing. The lantern light was poor, and his black skin made him difficult to see. He turned quickly and moved up the stairs before Myrista could get a good look at him.

"Come on!" Edwynn began to half-drag the priestess out of the cellar.

"Wait… you're hurt." Myrista pulled him to a stop. Holding her hands over his bleeding arm, she began chanting. A soft yellow glow emanated from her palms, throwing the shadows on her face into sharp relief. The glow flowed into Edwynn's arm and upwards into his chest. The pain and exhaustion of the day began to withdraw. He felt renewed, both in body and mind. His nose stopped hurting and his nasal passage cleared up. Taking a deep breath, he flexed the fingers on his wounded arm.

"Feel better?" Myrista asked with a big smile. She was looking directly into his eyes, and standing awfully close to him.

"You bet! Now lets go." Turning quickly, he stepped over the guard's corpse and ascended the stairs. He was almost to the top when he realized she wasn't following him. "Myrista are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She said in that tone of voice that women use when they were certainly NOT fine. "I just can't see well." She began to slowly move up the stairs.

In the kitchen, Edwynn found Brogan stuffing more food into the bag. The warlock then grabbed two other wineskins and shouldered the knapsack before moving towards the foyer.

"Brogan, wait." Edwynn said in a loud whisper. Myrista reached the kitchen and gave a sharp gasp as she saw the corpse of the man who had died there. His nose and mouth still trickling blood. Edwynn grabbed her hand and dragged her into the hallway. Brogan had stopped just inside the foyer. He silently stood there with his back to them.

"Brogan, slow down! We have to stay together or we'll…" Edwynn didn't bother to finish the sentence.

Standing in the foyer were 6 figures. Four of them were bandits, lead by Crassius. The warrior had his sword drawn and an evil sneer on his face. The last figure was Odessa, who was kneeling next to one of her demon hounds. Every one of them was staring directly at the three children.

"It appears that you make a poor prisoner, stable boy." Crassius gestured to the bandits.

"Kill them all."