The Shadow Key Part 1

A deal made with a devil is a sin pouring out on all around them. A deal made with a devil surely leads only to heartbreak and a rotten soul.

Tales of Heroes and Villains

The Shadow Key

Written by: The Traveling Bard Age Tomb

Draft 2

Part 1

By: Chase L. Currie

Whispering Oaks

In the year of our Lord 1432

 

Melanie Warwrath stumbles against the wall using it to hold her up while still growling about the night. She should have known better than to meet up with Wesley Nailbark. She shouldn’t have let him buy her a drink. She was better than this; she was a part of the Fearless Five, the best group of Whispering Hoods in all the Realm. They were the best trained, best equipped, and she got poisoned by a low-level street thief.

                Sure, Wesley was her childhood friend. It’s why she showed up to the Traven with him. The letter came a few days ago asking her to catch up. It had been years - far too long if she thought about - and she went to see him.

                She walked into the empty Traven wearing her black hooded cloak with a Royal Blue underbelly, but unknown to anyone staring at her; there were owls feathers woven into the cloth. Only the Five were allowed to wear such a cloak. The owl feathers allowed the Hoods not to be damaged by any spells cast. If the spell, fireball, ice bolt, or even a poison had been formed with manna, the magic would not damage the cloak, a nasty trick to play on a squirrel thinking they have the upper paw in a fight.

                A simple reason all squirrels knew, owls were the masters of magic. Legend said they were born out of manna; Melanie wasn’t sure if the legends were true, but she knew from using the cloak, the feathers did what the legend said they would.

                The cloaks were prized among the Hoods and feared amount everyone else.

                Everyone squirrels feared the Whispering Hoods. The Emperor’s assassins were tasked with hunting down any Spellcrafter in the Realm to put them to death.

                “Oh, wow, it is true,” Wesley said, rushing up to her. He was a tall squirrel and slender. He towered over Melanie, but she didn’t mind. They were both the same thinnest and shared the same dark brown fur. The only difference between her and him was she had red magic markings running from the tip of her nose down to the end of her tail. Wesley had no one in his family who had ever used magic.

                “What is true?” She asked, pulling out of his hug.

                “You are a Hood,” He said.

                “Ah, yeah,” Melanie said, sitting down at the table. The Traven was quiet and close to the Emperor’s Palace, where most Knights would drink, and left it empty without the armor tails. Not that the Knights too much like the Whispering Hoods, but she didn’t care right now. They saw them as nothing more than bandits or cutthroats. None of them would mess with Melanie once they saw she was a part of the Five.

                Melanie and Wesley chatted the night away, telling each other stories from the years they had been apart. Back in their younger years, they were best friends, always with each other, and a few thoughts they were more than friends. Melanie only ever saw Wesley as a brother, and Wesley told her she was the same to him. “A sister, not a brother.”

                The hour grew later, but the drinks keep coming until well after midnight.

                “I need to get going, Wesley,” Melanie said softly. “I have a long day tomorrow.”

                “One more for old times,” he said, smiling at her.

                “One more,” Melanie agreed, and Wesley went to the bar to order the drinks. She followed him for the most part until she studies the three Knights entering the Traven. They were out of their armor and more than likely off duty for the night.

                Wesley returned with two mugs of ale.

                “How long are you going to be in town?” Melanie asked, drinking her ale.

                “Only a few nights,” Wesley said. “Work has me moving around.”

                “Do I want to know what you are doing?” Melanie asked. She had heard the rumors Wesley fell in with the wrong crew back in the old neighborhood. She didn’t want to believe it and chopped them up to nothing more than rumors.

                “I’m a merchant in rare books,” Wesley said, downing his ale.

                “Rare books?” Melanie asked. “Not spellbooks?”

                “No, no, not at all,” he said, shaking his head.

                “I hope not,” Melanie said, finishing off her ale.

                “You still can out drink me,” he laughed.

                “I had even more practice,” Melanie said, standing but able to hide the effects of the ale from everyone. “Maybe, before you leave, we can get lunch?”

                “I would love to,” Wesley said, hugging her before she headed for the door.

                She got out onto the stone road in the late-night, heading back to the Palace when everything started to spin. Her head felt like someone had dropped a castle on top of it, and her eyes started to fade into darkness. She kept them open with all the might she could find, but everything looked as if she was staring through a tunnel. She moved her paw for the small bottle on her belt, but -

                Gone.

                Did I not bring it?

                No, I did; I always bring it.

                An elixir all Hoods carried with them to counteract any poison. She carried the elixir like she carried her tail or cloak. Someone -

                She glanced behind her at the door; Wesley must have taken it.

                The street seems to reach up from the darkness, grabbing her and pulling her down. She didn’t land face-first against the stone. Her knees hit before anything else, and she fought to stay awake and, most of all, upright. She fell against the wall of the shop, shaking her to her eyes open. Anyone walking by, not that there would be many souls out this late, would think she drank too much.

                She didn’t drink too much, just drank the wrong thing.

                “Most squirrels can’t make a few steps before feeling the effect of the Drunken Mice,” Wesley said, kneeling to her face, “but you, I’m impressed.”

                “Why?”

                “I got a job to do,” is all he said before he took the Shadow Key from inside her cloak and tossing the elixir bottle against the stone wall shattering it.

Author's Note

I have been working on these story little tales for Whispering Oaks for some time but have kept them in the background. As I’m sure many of you have noticed, I haven’t been posting a lot; lately, there is a reason for it, but sadly, I can’t get into that right now.
However, I am going to start posting more stuff for Whispering Oaks. I wake up most mornings thinking about this world, missing it if I’m honest, and I can’t keep walking away from it. Mostly due to the fact, it keeps pulling me back to it.
I have to work on another world which I also love, but I’ve been letting Whispering Oaks sit on the back burner for a while now. I think I got overwhelmed with the dream of the world. Now is the time to get back into it, and I hope you enjoy what is to come.
As always, please remember when you are about to critique any of my work on here that most of this is world-building notes for me. These stories or letters you are reading are my warm-up writing to the novel I’m currently slaving away on. I say this in the hopes you will go easy of my poor grammars and spelling errors. I try my best to catch what I can when editing, but I’m not that good at it, as you will see. By all means, please help me with story flow, plot holes, characters, and so on. And if you like a character or a world or a tale, let me know. I would love to build more of what you guys like. Also, feel free to interact with me on any matter when it comes to this world. I want a relationship with my readers, and my door is always open.
With a tip of the hat
Chase