Chapter 18

Chapter 18

 

 

The sky was pitch black now; even stars could not summon the strength to shine through the darkness. The air reeked of evil and a dark aura cloaked the plains. Gurtin strutted through the darkness with his group closing in on one of many the gates present across Ralis’s wall. A hooded figure stood at the gate, hidden in the darkness. Gurtin approached the gate and in turn the guard revealed himself from the darkness.

“Who goes there!” a deep voice boomed from under the leather robes. “State your business”

“I am General Gurtin!” Gurtin bellowed, “And I wish to seek an audience with Lord Zealos”

“Preposterous I will not let you in under such pretences, be gone now!” The guard pointed away from the gate.

“I have been expecting him, Porter. Grant him passage” Zealos spoke within Porter’s mind.

“Right away master” Porter pushed open the gate, dust engulfed the entrance. “Sorry for the misunderstanding Sir” Gurtin brushed past him,

“No worries Porter, I’m having a wonderful day anyway”

Gurtin entered into one of Ralis’s many villages, however under the dark cloak of night the villagers were unaware of Gurtin’s presence and his acquired army. The village was of close resemblance of Domine. Its arenaceous streets, wooden shacks on each side all thatched with straw. Particles of dust picked up covering the group, making them invisible in the darkness. Gurtin passed the tavern, the only place with light down the street. Noisy chatter echoed from inside, Gurtin stopped and turned to the tavern and smirked. He eyed his army and smiled.

“Do me proud and I will treat you all to a refreshing pint of mead when this battle is through” the army seemed less than impressed by his gesture. “I thought you’d be happy by my proposal, after all under my rules…you guys are going to wish you were dead” Gurton pressed on up the street the army following close behind.

 

Fort Ralis lay ahead of Gurtin in all its glory. The beautifully carved stone lay all perfectly in place, dark looming towers on each side of the fortress stood tall. Moss clung to the damp stone and vines climbed up the walls. The road leading there was however less than impressive, a still dusty road made great cover for the group marching to the fort. The army coughed inhaling the dust picking up off the ground.

“Suck it up men, your soldiers after all” the army was growing impatient of his dictatorship over them. Gurtin laid his first step onto the stone stairs; he stopped and looked up to the fort before him. “You see this men? Now this is power” He turned and smiled grimly at them, they avoided his eye contact in fear of him. He began to walk again up the stairs getting ever closer to the large wooden door. Two hooded guards stood either side of the door they looked up in unison at Gurtin approaching.

“State your name” spoke the guard to the left of the door.

“General Gurtin” the guard looked over to the other who nodded at him.

“Lord Zealos has been expecting you, please go right in” the guards stood to the side of the door allowing him passage. Gurtin smiled and entered the door swing both doors wide open, before him lay the immaculate kings room. Large stone pillars line the sides of the great and vast room, vines weaved up each pillar and each vine contained the rarest of flower, the Moon Blossom. In the centre of the room stood a great statue of the Lord Zealos himself, he wielded an impeccable sword a one of its kind. Up the centre a black carpet led the way to the throne itself in which Lord Zealos sat upon. The throne made of pure gold, carved within the throne was a story of how Zealos overthrew the king before him. Gurtin walked up the black carpet, approaching Lord Zealos, he stopped before him and fell to one knee.

“Lord Zealos, I kneel before you with this army. I am loyal to you and to you only” Lord Zealos stood, he was 6 foot 2 inches, a black cape covered his body all but his black leather boots. His eyes were as blue as a summer day yet his hair blacker than the night itself. Beneath his cape he wore a black shirt, gold lined the collar and edges and black trousers, gold also lining the edges.   

“Stand Gurtin” Gurtin stood and fumbled nervously.

“Well um, that’s General Gurtin now my Lord” Zealos clenched his fists and approached Gurtin, his footsteps echoed around the room.

“General is it then?” Gurtin looked down to the floor.

“Yes Sir”

“Wrong!” shouted Zealos, he unsheathed his sword and slashed his face slightly. The sword was the same as the statue held. Gurtin fell to the floor holding his face in pain, yet the wound did not heal like usual. “You are not General until I appoint you so!” Zealos yelled at Gurtin, “Yet your usefulness has sustained me” Zealos kneeled down to Gurtin and touched his face; the wound healed and left only a droplet of blood on Zealos’s finger. He smiled at Gurtin and stood again. “I applaud you in your success at ridding us of that General Idril”

“Th-thank you sir” Gurtin stuttered, he stood still looking to the floor.

“Ah and I see you have brought me an army” Zealos approached them; he circled them studying each single man. “Adequate at best but they will do”

“Hey who are you calling adequate!” as soldier blurted out in the group. Zealos turned to the group quickly,

“Who said that!?” he shouted furiously. The group did not speak, and huddled closer together. Zealos pulled a single man from the group and slit his throat bleeding him dry. He threw him to the ground and crushed his skull beneath his foot. “The next person to speak to me out of turn will suffer the same fate of this man here” he shouted. He turned away and sat back at his throne.

“Permission to speak freely my Lord” Zealos looked down to Gurtin and pick up a goblet from the table aside his throne.

“Permission granted” Gurtin smiled awkwardly.

“It is in my knowledge that Tybalt has failed at killing the boy”

“Your knowledge would be most accurate please continue” Zealos drunk from the goblet which seemed to contain red wine.

“May I offer myself to fight for you against this boy” Zealos looked down to Gurtin and smiled at him.

“No, I have other plans for him”

“Other plans Sir?” Gurtin asked. Zealos looked into his goblet as if to try and see something.

“Yes, you see I have something that no other person has, his weakness you see Gurtin”

“His weakness?

“Yes Gurtin do try and keep up. You see without his weakness all attempts at killing him will be futile”

“If you don’t mind my asking Lord, what is his weakness?” Zealos looked down to him and raised an eyebrow.

“Rita!” Zealos called out and clapped his hands. Within a second a figure fell from the tower above landing next to Zealos’s throne.

“Yes my Lord” Rita spoke standing upright, she wore a black leather hood and wielded two sheathed daggers.

“Bring me the girl” he asked.

“Right away my Lord” Rita darted upwards as if she was flying and landed on the platform above. Upon the platform lay a large black orb hovering above the floor. Rita reached in and pulled out a young girl covered in a black and purple sheet. The girl did not move and stayed completely still. Rita returned holding the girl in her hands.

“Thank you Rita” Zealos spoke and yanked the sheet of the girl. It was Rose. “You see many might tell you it’s a cruel thing to mess with a man’s heart” Zealos chuckled deeply. “However cruelty is just in my nature” he boomed with laughter.

“Is that…Rose?” asked Gurtin.

“Ah so you know of this girl?”

“I do, he spoke of her when he came to the village, told Idril that she had been taken away by hooded people” Gurtin laughed, “I knew that it must have been you” Zealos wrapped the sheet over her.

“My my, why must you judge me so” Gurtin and Zealos both laughed, it echoed around the hall in a dark symphony. “Rita please put our little Rose here back in her place”

“Yes my Lord” Rita jumped back up onto the balcony out of sight.

“So my Lord what would you have me do?” Zealos pondered for a second, he rested his chin on his hand.

“Why don’t you show my guest here, make him feel…most welcome”

“What about the girl he’s with?”

“Rid me of her if you will” Gurtin nodded at Zealos.

“Yes my Lord, Gurtin turned away and began to leave.

“Oh and Gurtin” Gurtin stopped yet did not turn back. “Don’t feel the need to be gentle with my guest” Gurtin chuckled,

“Don’t worry my Lord; I have no intentions of being gentle” Zealos chuckled also and sat back in his chair watching the army Gurtin had left with him.

“So what should I do with you?” Zealos smirked and bared his fangs.

 

A chilling wind blew through the grass, the scent of the flowers travelled with the wind. The grass waved like an ocean both tranquil yet deadly at the same time. Enelya and Damion led in the grass no more than a few meters from the very same gate Gurtin had entered a few hours before. Damion looked to Enelya confused.

“I don’t get it, there’s no fight, no army no nothing” he whispered in full knowing the presence of the guard.

“On top of that no Idril” Damion nodded, not the Enelya could see it in the darkness.

“I fear the worst has happened to her”

“So what do we do? Do we turn back?” Damion eyed the guard again making sure he could not hear them talking.

“No, Rose is in there I can feel her. I’m not leaving without her” he spoke sternly yet quietly.

“So what do you propose we do? Just barge in there?” Damion smiled at her.

“It’s a better plan than any” A loud noise echoed form over by the gate, Damion looked out and spotted it opening, a light shone from the door faintly. Suddenly Gurtin appeared from the door.

“Excuse me Porter?” Gurtin spoke to him.

“Yes Sir”

“You have been ordered to leave your post by Lord Zealos” Porter nodded at Gurtin.

“Right away Sir” Porter entered the door leaving Gurtin at his post; he looked out in to the distance.

“Come on, where are you?” he spoke to himself. Damion clenched his fists and tensed up.

“Gurtin? That b*****d” He whispered angrily.

“Damion do not do anything rash” Enelya warned him, yet Damion did not want to listen to her.

“Plan A, I’m rushing in” Enelya tried to hold Damion however she missed and Damion darted off.

“Gurtin you filthy traitor!” he yelled and unsheathed his sword rushing Gurtin. Gurtin rushed towards Damion, in the darkness the speed rendered him invisible to Damion. Suddenly Damion was punched to the ground; his face hit the floor hard.

“I thought I was a b*****d a minute ago” he smirked after had heard him in the grass.

“I’ll kill you!” Damion yelled and climbed to his feet, sword ready. Damion ran towards him and swung his sword expecting a successful slice at his chest; however Gurtin caught the blade in this hand and lifted Damion off the ground throwing him off his sword.

“Tell me Damion, would you like to hear Idril’s final words?” Gurtin said wickedly.

“I’d rather hear yours” Damion rushed at him again yet was knocked back to the ground by another hit from Gurtin.

“Hmm, now what was it again” Gurtin circled Damion tapping his index finger to his chin, “Ah yes. Please, please have mercy on me” he said imitating Idril. Gurtin smirked at Damion, Damion scowled back at him. “I know right, pathetic. A once great leader reduced to a snivelling mess”

“Shut up!” Enelya cried from the grass, Gurtin turned still smirking to spot an arrow hurtling towards him. He caught the arrow in his hand and spun around throwing it back at Enelya. The arrow landed heavily in her forehead bringing her to the ground. Enelya cried out in pain for a second holding tightly to her head, yet it did not last long as her life began to fade away. Gurtin laughed deeply and loudly.

“So pitifully weak” Gurtin brushed his hands together, “And Damion?” Gurtin tutted waving his finger, “I expected so much more from you” Damion clambered up to his feet, a large bruise now apparent on his face. “What happened to the man who defeated that whole vampire army?” he asked sarcastically. Damion clenched his fists and approached Gurtin slowly.  “Still not done?” Damion ignored him and approached him further, “Ok then” Gurtin rushed forwards slashing Damion’s sword at him, however Damion blocked grasping hold of the blade. “What the hell?!” Gurtin cried out in disbelief.

“Two can play at that game” Damion threw Gurtin off his sword and spun it around grasping the handle tightly back in his hands. Gurtin scowled at Damion climbing back to his feet. He rushed at him becoming a blur in the darkness, yet Damion still spotted him and wrapped his hand round his throat lifting Gurtin off the ground.

“So what is this I’m seeing? Chivalrous Damion? Noble Damion?” Damion grinned at him.

“Neither” his voice sounded demonic and heavy, Damion threw Gurtin to the ground leaving a small crater where he landed. Gurtin stood yet again as if the hit he had taken didn’t happen.

“So what then? What leads you to fight even though you know you have lost?” Damion chuckled darkly, Gurtin shuddered.

“That is where you are wrong, I never lose” Damion grinned evilly as if it wasn’t him anymore. Gurtin regained his posture and darted towards Damion fist ready to land a blow. However Damion was faster and thrust his sword into Gurtin’s stomach and threw him to the ground once again. He got up injury non-existent yet his morale dropping rapidly. Gurtin scowled his rage increasing yet his sensibility dropping. He rushed at Damion yet again trying to hit him, but was thrown to the ground once again. He was down less than a second and ran at Damion once again being thrown down. However this time Gurtin stayed down, his rage boiled through his body, anger coursed through his veins. He stood slowly, his expression devilish, his fist clenched tight and his muscles pulsed. He approached Damion slowly each footstep seeming heavier each time. Damion ran at him and prepared a right hook, he swung yet Gurtin caught his fist in his hand. He looked up at Damion and tightened his grip; the bones in his hand began to crack. Damion began to fall to the ground in pain the sheer force of his grip brought his bones to breaking point. Tears left Damion’s eyes as his body grew weak and the pain was bringing him to shock. Suddenly he thrust him down into the ground; dust took to the sky and engulfed them. Damion breathed heavily, his body shivered in shock. Gurtin still under the influence of adrenaline and rage pressed his foot to Damion’s face.

“And now… you die” he applied pressure gently and slowly. It grew heavier; it left Damion paralyzed unable to fight back.

“Stop this now!” Zealos spoke in Gurtin’s head. He ignored the voice and continued to press harder. “I said stop!” Yet again he ignored him his force growing closer to death. “Stop!” Zealos roared and a sharp pain pulsed through his head rendering him powerless. Gurtin fell to the floor grasping hold of his head jolting in agony. Damion shivered his body weak and the pain unbearable. A sound came from near him, a sliding noise as if a door was dragging against hard ground. Damion’s vision was disorientated; a dark figure loomed over him.

“Okay Sir let’s get you inside” Damion struggled slightly unknowing who the figure was, however his body grew weaker until…he grew…unconscious.  

 

A bright light shone blinding Damion as he opened his weary eyes. His vision blurred and his senses weak left him vulnerable. He sat up still unable to see properly, yet the room around him began to look strange even through his eyes. It seemed…white, just white and nothing else. Small podiums were scattered around the room organised perfectly each a meter away from the other. Damion rubbed his eyes, they were still sore.

“Why didn’t you listen to me?” a woman’s voice echoed from across the room. Damion turned to see a hooded woman crouched down next to a podium three down from him.

“Excuse me?” Damion questioned, still rubbing his eyes.

“Stop rubbing your eyes, you’ll make them sore”.

“But?” Damion started,

“Your vision will return soon enough, just give it time,” she stood up and stepped away from the podium. Damion did as he was told and placed his hands down at his sides.

“Where am I?” Damion asked.

“It’s not a question of where,” she responded. Damion slowly regained his vision and suddenly it became clear.

“M-mother?” Damion trembled; she turned and smiled at him gently. Damion studied the room more closely and suddenly realised on each podium a body lay motionless. He looked to the podium beside him; a cold feeling crept up his spine. It was Idril. The horror sunk it deeper when he spotted who his mother stood beside. His mother’s face became more serious and looked down to the body.

“This is Rose, is it not?” Damion gulped and nodded.

“Am…am I dead?” Damion stuttered. His mother chuckled and approached him.

“No definitely not, far from it” Damion moved over to allow his mother to sit next to him.

“So how is Idril here?” Damion asked his head full of questions. His mother looked over to Idril and sighed.

“I cannot reveal too much to you, it is not my place to”.

Damion stood and moved closer to Rose and ran his finger gently against her cheek.

“Excuse me Madam,” a voice sounded from across the room. “It is time, bring the boy”. She nodded and walked up to Damion.

“Don’t worry, everything is going to be fine,” Damion looked away from her in disbelief. She offered her hand out to him, he took hold of it. It was soft yet a chilling cold.

 

Damion looked to his mother, she shook her head and let go of his hand.

“He seeks audience with you, I cannot go any further,” she stepped back from him. Damion took his first step onto the black carpet leading to the throne. He approached the statue and began to move around it studying it. As he walked about halfway around he spotted the Lord Zealos sat upon his throne. His hands tightening into fists as he picked up the pace to approach him, he set one foot onto the steps leading to the throne.

“Stop where you are boy. Come no closer,” Damion scowled yet did as he said and removed his foot from the step.

“What do you want with me?” Damion asked, anger coursing through his body. Zealos smirked and stood.

“I want you…Damion is it?” Damion did not reply. Zealos chuckled, “Your power could be adequately useful to me”.

“I’m a threat to you” he spoke angrily.

“Quite” Zealos spoke softly, “Quite right indeed”.

“So why don’t I tear your throat out right here instead?” he yelled. Zealos chuckled feebly at his threat.

“Because my dear boy, I have something of yours”, Damion scowled.

“Rose” he muttered under his breath, Zealos smiled feeling a victory.

“That’s right and if you don’t do what I say, I’m afraid something might happen to the poor girl” he looked down to Damion and grinned, “And we wouldn’t want that now…would we?” Damion’s fist tightened further.

“You’re bluffing, you wouldn’t harm her”

“Oh would I not?” Zealos pressed his index finger and thumb to his chin, “The question my boy is, do you really want to find out?” he smirked grimly at him and sat back down into his throne. Damion sighed and feel to his knees,

“No” Zealos chuckled,

“That’s what I thought”

“What would you have me do?” he asked.

“Why nothing more than join my army, after all an army is nothing without a fortification of power” Damion did not speak and stayed silent. “Well, do we have a deal?” Damion looked up to Zealos,

“No, I will never join you” Zealos clenched his fists and stood quickly. Damion climbed to his feet and readied himself to a more suitable stance for battle.

“Lower your fists you putrid creature, I would not fight such a pathetic child like yourself, Rosaline take him back to the chamber, I have no further use of him” Damion’s mother stood beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder, Damion looked angrily at her and moved away.

“How could you? How could you join a man like him?” Rosaline looked sadly at Damion.

“Son?”

“No” Damion interrupted, “I’m no son of yours” Sadness and shock ran into Rosalina’s face, she closed her eyes fighting away tears.

“I did this all for you, everything I have suffered has been for you” she wept.

“Oh yeah, you seem really at pain right now, oh I really feel for you” he replied sarcastically. She grabbed hold of his shoulder and pulled him towards the door.

“Let go of me” he shouted struggling; she ignored him and led him out the door.

 

She began to pull him down the stone steps. Suddenly he grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her off.

“What the hell is your problem?” he yelled at her.

“Do you think I like working under this malicious man?” he blurted at him.

“Well you don’t seem to have a problem with it, if you hated it so much why haven’t you just left?” he asked angrily.

“Because I can’t! I can’t leave here” she began to sob.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because if you disobey he kills you, I’ve seen many other want to escape his grasp but couldn’t” she wept falling to her knees. “If I left and he killed me how would I protect you then?” she looked into his eyes, he began to soften and look around as people began to wonder what the commotion was.

“Come on get up” he offered his hand out to her; she took it and climbed up. “I can protect myself now, I’m not a little boy anymore” he sighed slightly, “I don’t even feel like a boy anymore sometimes. I’m closer to a monster”

“Hey, come here” she hugged him resting his head against her neck. “In our eyes here you’re not a monster” she comforted.

“That means little coming from people regarded as monsters” he spoke glumly. “Just take me back to the chamber so you can put me to sleep again, I’d be better off there” she looked at him saddened by his comment.

“Fine, if it’ll make you happy” she responded coldly.

“It’s not a matter of what makes me happy”

“Then what?” she asked, Damion looked at her for a few seconds his expression ceasing to change.

“I just give up”

 

 

 

Damion:

I give up, the words I uttered then make me shudder now, and how could I say such things. I was with Rose again, she was within my grasp yet I didn’t care, even if I did wake her we never would have escaped. We would have been slaughtered like common cattle. It seemed that the darkness was the only choice left for me; I’d never work for such an evil man. I couldn’t forgive my mother for joining him, yet I couldn’t stop loving her either. 

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A strange turn in this chapter. The appearance of the mother making Damion mind thankful and confused. Thank you for the excellent chapter.
Coyote