¤ The Light of Day

‘Listen, Maldrich.’ Verchiel says in a low voice of fury. ‘If Kranz sends down Sorra and his fairy army, your chances of fulfilling your Lord’s wishes will only be that of a sheet against the storms’ wind, even with that vast army out there. I have the ability to persuade him not to-’

‘You underestimate my Lord’s army, Verchiel.’ Maldrich interrupts him, riling at Verchiel’s suggestion of Zakum’s inferiority.

‘No matter.’ Verchiel waves aside Maldrich’s retort coolly. ‘Even if your army can overwhelm Sorra’s, it will not be an easy fight. I can offer you the means to invade El Nath without needing to sacrifice your vast army in such a foolish war. Would your Lord not be pleased by such a prudent plan? Face it, mortal. You will need me.’

A slow, perverse grin spreads across the Priest’s lips. ‘Mortal? After such a long partnership, I expected you to know better. I’m hardly mortal, Verchiel.’

He raises his hand with the wrist facing outwards, the loose sleeve of his Dark Enigma robes falling away to his elbow. With his Dark Ritual, he makes a slashing motion across his wrist. A long deep gash magically opens on the alabaster white skin there, and a thick black liquid oozes out of the gash, welling there now, then spilling over and running down his arm in dark ribbons to stain the sleeves of his robe.

Maldrich’s face held no sign of pain, even as fat drops of the black blood fall to mark the scroll on the low table he stood over with dark glistening blossoms. ‘No mortal bleeds like this. Not even fairies like you do, Verchiel.’

Verchiel watches Maldrich’s impassive face, then his eyes flick coolly to watch the deep gash knit close, some sparks of sickly green dancing over the wound. ‘Withdraw your army, Maldrich.’ He states flatly. ‘I need this sham of a parley to succeed for the success of both our schemes. Save this nightmare horde for the day when we are sure of utter victory. And that day will not be long.’

His icy emerald eyes lock onto Maldrich’s flat dark brown ones. ‘Withdraw your army,’ Verchiel repeats. ‘Else your precious Lord Zakum will never see the light of day.’ With that, he turns to leave the tent.

‘My precious Lord Zakum is a demon, Verchiel.’ The harsh grating of Maldrich’s voice follows him out of the tent, full of twisted mirth, and accompanied by wild laughter. ‘He doesn’t need the light of day!’

¤ Silver Soul

The new window dimmed too, blacking out the scene they watched. She felt her hands shaking, as she recalled the insane glint in the dark Priest’s eyes as he spoke of that Lord… Zakum? Why did that name bring to her this urgent, burning sensation…? (fear? Is it fear?) Suddenly, the whispering around her intensified and exploded in chaos, assaulting her ears with the clash of metal, dull booms, tormented yells of pain, and then a long drawn out scream!

Whimpering soundlessly, she clasped her hands over her ears, curling upon herself. Would that she had never regained her sense of hearing!

’What’s going on?’ The Soul heard the sounds too, but only faintly. Puzzled, it crouched down to her level, peering at her. ‘Don’t worry, I don’t think anything can harm you here…’ The Soul tried to reach out to touch her, but she flinched away.

’Ssh, it’s okay.’ A warm wave of reassurance lapped against her, at the sound of the Soul’s voice. The ghostly noises died away, returning abruptly to the normal, ephemeral buzz.

’Oh, how I wish you could talk!’ She heard the Soul sigh above her. ‘Then maybe you can tell me about how you can show me all that, and what on earth they mean!’

She rubbed her own hands together miserably, knowing that even if she could talk, she could not tell this Soul anymore than what she had seen.

A faint garbled voice boomed through the small space now, different from the whispering in her ears. The Soul lifted its head, surprised. Startled, she looked around too, searching in the dull light for the source of this sound. ‘That’s just someone calling my name.’ The Soul said, trying to reassure her. ‘Don’t worry.’

Name? What’s a name? She tried to ask, the strange word somehow not registering in her mind. The garbled voice sounded again, urgent this time. ‘Strange, what’s the hurry…’ The Soul turned around in the dark space, then turned back to her. ‘Listen,’ it said to her, ‘Will I see you again?’

I don’t know. She gestured helplessly with her hands once more. The garbled voice called again. The Soul made an anxious noise, its sharp silhouette against the twin window’s light blurring now. ‘Never mind. I don’t know how this works, but just remember my name, then maybe we’ll meet again.’

Even as the Soul melted away into the darkness, even as she felt herself dissipate into nothingness, she caught the last few words that the Soul spoke.

‘My name is Silver…’

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Next chapter: link

Links to previous chapters:
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(This is one crappy chapter. )

One more to Thirty. O_o And I have nothing of note to say. Except that my exams are coming really soon (less than two weeks. Aaah.), and I need to slack off on my mad writing. There will still be posts, until my reserves run out. (Sounds like Economics. And I obviously have studying on the brain. Argharghargh.)

Did a drawing for Silver ^^ But of all things, it was drawn on the back of my Chemistry Tutorial. :/ That’s going to be evil to scan. Oh well.

Almond and Choco chip cookies~