"Many can proudly say that they have slain orcs. Many can gloat and say they have killed Wolfmen, and there are even those that can say they have slain wraiths. But I am the only on that can say I have killed a moon!
Of course, I don't say that too often, mostly because either people look at me as if I'm crazy or roar: "That was you?" Still, it's something not everyone can say."
-Taken from Drakes Journal.
"You see, it is simple." The Assassin paused, clearly happy with himself. The listeners waited patiently for him to continue. They knew he enjoyed making dramatic pauses in interesting parts, making them wish for more, torturing them. Of course, he enjoyed torturing them in other ways as well, that was why they waited so politely.
Nothing creates an interested audience like the promise of pain.
"My dagger opened his sword and released its weaknesses. By our magic, it also gave me a power signature, immunity if you will, to all the four warriors' weapons. All hidden in this dagger." He didn't add that something was wrong with it. After he had fled the chamber, he had noticed that it vibrated, almost pulsed. Probably because the two edges had met. Damn that boy! "So, you are going to transfer it to yourself then?" asked one of the braver (And stupider) of the expertly picked audience. The Assassin glared at him, and he shrank back. Everyone tensed, expecting the foolish one to be killed, but it didn't happen. Clearly the Assassin was in a good mood. "No, I will not" he said softly. "If I did that I would cease to be a Dark Knight and become something grander. But I must remain a Dark Knight. The Skull on the moon is a magic we once cast so that four of our number would escape every thousand years. It is what keeps us inside the wall, but also frees us. However, it goes away when all Dark Knights leave the world. Therefore I must stay, and when the Warriors are gone, I will release four more of my kind, no more and no less. Then, aided by the Killing Moon, as is the name we have for it, we will conquer and rule. We will release those demons that still exist, hidden as they are in the corners of the world, and create a never ending Age of Darkness." "So, what are you going to do with the dagger?" asked one of the others, clearly growing bold from his good mood. "I can combine it with seven mortal souls to create a being like the world has not seen since the Time of Chaos, and release it upon the warriors." "And how do we get you these souls, Master" asked another from the audience, now almost inrespectful in this lack of discipline. The Assassin smirked, but the hood hid it, and they could not see the evil satisfaction in it.
"You might be wondering why I brought you seven here tonight…"
Some time later…
"He could have teleported us, or whatever he did, somewhere closer to the enemy" Javlin grunted as he brushed apart some bushes. "Personally I prefer to see the enemy before they see me old man," Hawk said. Javlin glared at her. "Quiet you two, I think I can see some light" Emily interrupted. They settled down and Drake peered through the bushes.
It was a campfire in a clearing, and beside it sat two figures, one with his back towards them, one leaning against the Wall itself. They were hooded, but Drake couldn't see if one of them was the Assassin. After all, many people had their faces hidden by hoods. He decided to risk it, and stepped out. "Good evening" he began "Have you seen anything strange around here?" The two figures didn't move, and Javlin limped into the clearing, followed by Emily and Hawk. "Well?" asked Drake again. Now that they were all out in the open, the one leaning against the Wall raised his head. "You disappoint me" he said "I would have expected you sooner." It was the Assassin. Drake gripped his sword, something his enemy seemed to find amusing. "It is no use Swordbearer" he snarled. "You will not fight me." "And why shouldn't we? There are four against one, and soon there will be four against none" Drake said bravely, sounding more confident than he was. The Assassin must have succeeded in whatever he had tried to do. That was the only possibility. "You will fight my friend here."
It suddenly struck Drake to wonder why the Assassin had company. The figure with his back towards them got to his feet, and turned around, pulling down his hood in the process. They gasped.
The figure looked like Drake, nose hair and mouth. But whereas Drake was more likely to have a mischievous glint in his eyes when he laughed, this one smirked with eyes cold as ice. The cape he was wearing hid his body well, for it was made of pure darkness. The Assassin remained seated.
"HA, it might look like Drake, but it doesn't have a sword" Javlin said at last. With a speed coming from years of using a spear, he threw his magic spear at the things head. But it caught it, and instead of having its hand freeze off, it twisted the spear around and threw it back.
The spear hit Javlin right in his hip, and he fell to the ground with a grunt. Hawk jumped forward and struck the hammer with enough force to crush a mountain, but for some reason she was the one who was knocked back, blood on her temple. Emily shot a bolt at the ting, but it ricocheted off and hit her straight in the chest. In a manner of seconds this ting had disabled three weapons that was designed to slay Dark Knights. Drake felt a chill as the thing turned to him. He felt many things that moment. Anger for his fallen friends. Fear for this thing that could kill so easily. Despair, for there was nothing he could do. And he heard the Assassin laugh. "It is ironical really, that without you, I could not have made it." "What do you mean?" Asked Drake as he watched the thing carefully. "The magic I used could not have been made without you and your sword" he said smugly. "It was something I could use. I found the weakness in every weapon, all from the sword, all transferred to this edge." He pulled out his dagger. "And now, I control it with that edge. You made this, swordbearer." Drake pulled out his sword, already knowing that it was futile. The thing grinned with a face so like his own and raised his hand. The fingers melted and twisted into claws, claws as sharp as his sword. He backed away as he looked into its eyes, and saw there that he would die.
And to his surprise, he realised that the only thing he regretted was that he would no longer see his friends. They had been four of a kind, even Hawk which he had just met. They were the kind of friends people could look for their whole life and never find. And now they were dead. He lifted his sword and thought to himself that at least he would die fighting. That was a dramatic sentence, he though. Pity it had to include 'die'. The figure raised its claws to finish him off.
It shuddered and lowered its hand. It looked at him and shuddered again. The Assassin got to his feet. "No, you fool, kill him! What are you waiting for?" The Assassin held up his dagger in an attempt to control the thing, and Drake realised that it was pulsing, just in time with his own sword. The thing looked from one two the other, as if uncertain. "Father?" it rasped, looking confused.
And Drake saw the truth. The Assassin had tried to control it with the dagger edge, but there had been two edges when this creature had been created, and now it could not see who was its master. It took a step towards Drake, and then looked at the Assassin. It stepped back.
Drake didn't know what to do; should he attack, using its distraction? Should he attempt to control it and destroy the Assassin? He didn't know. "You belong to me" the Assassin cried, now almost desperate. Drake looked at his sword. For some reason there were pictures forming. Pictures of the Stone, of Geist and the dragon. Pictures of all his friends, taken from parts of their journey. And in the end, he saw the man chained to the throne, the man with a crown rammed upon his head. He lifted his head again, and no mist covered it now.
For a moment he could only stare, not aware of his surroundings. The Assassin shouted something. It didn't matter. He knew the name.
"Ralock" he said quietly, and everything sped up.
His sword was suddenly ablaze with fire, fire given to him by the dragon. The light stung his eyes and it roared into the night sky in a pillar of fire. It twisted and turned until it fell, fell right between Drake and the Assassin. Right where the thing, the murderous thing that still could not decide who was its master, stood. Its cloth burnt, its flesh turned to crisp, its eyeballs boiled in their sockets. It screamed a scream that made the trees around them crack and die, but still it could not decide who to kill. In madness it turned to the one thing it knew of, the magic that had given birth to it. It turned its face to the Killing Moon, and the skull grinned down at it. It screamed again and jumped, no flew, upwards, higher and higher. The sword vibrated so much that Drake almost dropped it, but he knew that in his life he had never done something as important as holding on right now. The fiery arrow that the thing had become burnt across the sky. It struck the moon, and fire engulfed the silver circle for a second, and then fell to earth. But now there was no skull on it. It was pure again. The vibrating had stopped, but neither Drake nor the Assassin glanced towards the other. The fire fell, and it struck far behind the wall. There was no sound, no explosion, and Drake turned towards the Assassin, but he was gone. Fled, not dead.
With a sigh he checked his friends; they were all alive. He took the spear out of Javlin and tried to stop the bleeding.
Far away, in Mount Mort, the Reaper Men's leader had a (very) small drink. No one knew why Reaper men didn't drink much; alcohol affected their bodies slightly less than water affect ducks. He turned to the other one in the room. "You are certain that there was no other way?" Geist nodded. "Only their own magic could destroy the Killing Moon. Still, it is a pity that it fell down." "And what happens now?" the Reaper Man wanted to know. "Now that their magic have come to earth, it will release all the Dark Knights, all at once. It is just lucky that it fell down east of the Wall." "How, exactly, is that a good thing" Geist sipped his drink. "You see, the magic of the First Born are still active, but on this side of the Wall only. The Dark Knight will first take that part of the world, and then break the wards to attack us."
They sat in silence for a while. "How long do you think we have?" Geist shrugged. "A year? Five years? Months. I don't know." More silence. "I merely hope that he will be up to it" said the Reaper Man. "Relax" said Geist "he has Drake and his friends, right." The Reaper Man nodded. "Where will he come from?"
"As for that, I can only think of something my Master made them put in the Book of Cheese."
"'From the North I will call my son'"
Well, that's the end of the first part. What do you think? Is it just screaming for a sequel? Or is it screaming "pathetic attempt at writing"? Please tell me, I'm begging for reviews here.
Anyway, I'm working on the next part now, so hopefully it will be up soon. And while I'm doing that, you could spend a second or two (maybe even a minute) on posting a small review. Won't cost you a dime.