Chapter 3 - The Flames Rise
"Do you truly expect me to believe such hokum of the highest caliber mister Daze?"
A pudgy man in a white robe stood before the grand lord of war's desk, his bad combover laughingly stretched over his sweaty head. The olive skinned priest nervously rubbed his forehead.
"My l-lord you mu-mu-mu-must open your mind t-t-to me!"
The lord's room was like his son's in that it only held books and papers, with the exception of some decorative swords the grand lord of war's office was as dull as it's owners sense of imagination.
"Whole vill-a-ages ar-ar-are disappearing wi-without a sign of anyth-th-thing being amiss!"
"Mister Daze I refuse to have my time wasted, fix the skip in your voice and then I'll consider talking to you. Guards, make sure he finds the door."
Two armed men pushed the priest out of the lord's office, shutting the door behind them.
Renn sat, rubbing his chin as he watched various apprentices conjuring void creatures, casting everything from fire to water from their hands. As a Shadow Seer Renn had many duties. They could see spirits and ghosts. Something most cannot do. They are set to learn the secrets from the dead that those living cannot learn on their own.
"Do you take me for a fool, Renn?"
"Sir Arrafis, I have no idea of what you speak."
Arrafis wore the dark plate armor traditional to the black knights. A sword cloak covered his left shoulder, loosely hiding his bastard sword. His eyes lay completely red. The fox man's fur was dyed black to fit better with his profession, spots of orange still revealed itself on his face.
Three main subsets makeup the body of the void, the sword, which is made of non-magic fighters. The lowest rank being affectionately named fodder. The highest being knights, at the top of the sword is the Black Commander.
The other is the Staff. The Staff is made of magic users, whether they be battle mages, seekers, or Magisters. The staff is the overall more powerful and important side of the void. The majority of masters, lords, and ladies have been mages, also never has a dark king or queen sat on the throne that has not been part of the staff. What stands atop the staff is the Black Mind.
Arrafis grabbed Renn by the shirt collar, forcing him to his feet. He slammed the man against the stone wall.
"You had m--"
The fox screamed in pain as a blast of black lightning sent him flying into a barrel of poppy ale. The drink covering him with the smell of wet dog and regret. Every couple seconds his left arm would uncontrollably jerk to the right.
With a chuckle Renn simply left the room.
It was dark, very dark. It didn't take long for Renn to realize he was floating in the Void.
_The void?! How am I? I've never done the ritual of the six sevens so... I'm dreaming. Yes I went to bed after my fight with Arrafis. But this dream seems so real I don'_t.
"Calm yourself. I am a soul of the Shadows, reaching out to your mind. I have information you will need."
The voice echoed across the darkness. Everywhere the man looked he could not see anything.
"Who are you?
"I am Corvus Alfinius,"
"The first King of Shadow?"
"Yes, unlike every single one of my successors; I overcame death itself and instead of being consumed by the dark. I embodied it,"
Within an instant Renn was no longer floating in the middle of nothing. He stood in large throne room, what sat on the throne was Corvus. His skin gray and chipped. Eyes a dull blood red.
"Do you want to know why every King and Queen of Shadow had fallen to the sword?
Do you want to know why every Dark Scourge led to the bodies of the Void broken under the foot of the light?
They worship the Void like a priest to his god. The issue there is they worship nothing."
The dead King stood from his throne and began walking while talking.
"The dark is not evil, the dark has no ambition. The Void just exists; one who walks fully into the dark only finds himself becoming part of it,"
Now the old King stood mere feet away from Renn.
"The Void needs a leader, it needs something to be it's master... you my boy will be that master."
"You want to make me the next Dark King?" Renn said with shock in his voice.
"No, I want to make you the first Dark God."
Renn Took a step back. He slipped on his robe as he did so and crashed to the floor.
Ignoring Renn's fumble, the old King started speaking once again.
"I must leave you now. It takes every bit of my strength to keep the hole I've ripped in between your world and mine open. When I Regain my stamina I will contact you again. First thing you must do is reach my grave and collect my ring; I have tied part of my soul to the object. Once you wear it we will be able to talk without my strength being drained."
"Wait, how would that work?"
With a sigh of annoyance, the king continued:
"My ring holds a piece of me; it acts as a very small thread from this land of shadow and the world. If a creature such as me, that is strong enough to exist beyond death held a item of great personal importance in life; we will be linked to that item. Unfortunately, that link is far too weak for even someone like me to pull myself into your world."
"But... why choose me?"
"We are out of time."
Renn awoke with a jolt. Hitting his head on the relatively low ceiling over his bed.
Mari broke out of her unconscious state to find a world of broken bodies and destroyed buildings. Her attempts to move only resulted in a surge of pain shooting through her legs. To her horror she found several pieces of wood and metal turning what was once legs into fleshy maces. Screaming, voices of the dying crying out to the sky. A song of pain that Mari could not bear, she covered her ears
.
A woman walked in Mari's direct eyesight, her hair white and not a single strand points downwards. Seemingly by magic, her hair was spiky and apparently in a stasis like mode.
She wore a red cloak made of velvet. No doubt stolen from someone of high office. Under the cloak she wore no shirt, a fur vest loosely covered her breasts. She purposely let her cloak lay open as so to reveal the muscular body and B cup milk sacks she was so proud of to all who would look.
"How rude of you my dear." frowned the woman.
The woman slammed her iron boot down on the bloody remains of Mari's right leg. With a deep and very loud scream of pain she grabbed her upper leg with tears dancing down her face.
"Good girl, now proper introductions can be made." Placing her hand on her heart; the woman gave Mari a half bow.
"I am... lady... Valaet, democratically elected leader of the Black Band; a proud Bandit army," Valaet took great care in stretching out the pauses between her title and name; putting dramatic flare into every word.
"Why... this destruction, why?" Mari said in between choked sobs.
"Fuck, you're so cliche!" With that Valaet jumped on top of Mari, pressing her nose against the terrified woman's.
"Do you know how many fucking times I've heard that today?" Valaet was Whispering gently to Mari.
"IT MAKES ME SO ANGRY THAT I COULD DO THIS!"
Quickly going from a whisper to defining shouting, Valaet took Mari's left hand and snapped her index finger like an arrow on steel. This causing her to naturally scream, Valaet mocked the poor girl by screaming along with her.
"I'm sorry!"
"Oh, it's okay my dear! I just got a little upset there... give me a kiss, is okay, give mommy a kissy!"
Mari hesitated, this resulted in Valaet grabbing her middle finger.
"NO, PLEASE!"
*CRACK*
"Kill me.. Please,"
"All in good time my dear sweet girl, I think however my boys deserve an extra token to show them my love."
Slowly getting off of Mari, Valaet then ran off. She quickly came back with five bandits.
"What do you think my brothers?" smiled Valaet.
"Ugly, but I'll fuck it!" said a man with a black bandana covering his mouth.
The others cheered in agreement.
"Please, don't!"
"Stop being bad!" shouted Valaet. She then brought her boot to Mari's nose, breaking it upon contact.
"Have fun." said Valaet as she left Mari to her fate.
"You monster!"
A teenage male around fourteen charged at Valaet; a spade in hand.
With a smile the woman simply took a step to the right. The boy tripped over a rock, with his face landing on top of his weapon.
"If you wish to play warrior, boy. Pick yourself up and fight, oh brave one."
As the child raised himself from the ground, he revealed a bloody nose. He held his spade out in front of him like a spear.
The lady pulled from a scabbard on her hip a beautifully crafted longsword. Its blade seemed to be made of ruby. It shockingly was refined and pretty, looking like any other well made sword. But more crystalian and red; rubies could not be turned into such things.The weapon had a hilt made of gold. Its crossguard shaped into that of a rosebud on each end. She held the sword with the pommel facing in front of her and the blade reaching behind her back.
With a cry that stood between bravery and fear; the boy charged at Valaet with spade held high. Just as the boy attempted to jam the weapon directly in Valaet's heart, she griped the handle while the boy madly tried to push the metal that was inches away from the evil woman's skin.
Valaet with a laugh slashed her blade down upon the handle; intentionally missing his hands. Without slowing down, the sword broke the spade in two.
Valaet tossed her piece of spade at the boy; it landing directly next to his head, sticking in the dirt.
"You're brave... if incredibly stupid. You would fit in well with my boys,"
"I'll never join you!"
The lady let out a long and bellowing laugh at that. Something that seemed to carry itself through the burning village.
"Oh, I am not offering, my child. If I needed a boy to cry and wet himself in the middle of a battle I would fetch my Husband from his grave. Leave my sight child, I will not hesitate to see you dead,"
The boy with tears in his eyes grabbed the half of spade the lady had tossed him and charged.
"Die!"
"Strong words for a weak boy."
Valaet using the boy's shoulder as leverage flipped over him, just as he turned the boy's face met the pommel of the lady's sword.
The boy fell at her feet, cheek bruised and bleeding.
"I don't want to kill you my boy,"
"Why? You've taken' everything else from me!"
Valaet sheathed her sword. With a look of pure pity she turned away and walked. It didn't matter what direction. She could not bare to stare upon the child's face anylonger.
Daigo sat alone in his office. He quickly looked around and made sure his door was locked. He tore open his desk's bottom drawer and produced a small wooden box that he then placed upon the desk's top. His hands slid to the back of his neck where he disconnected his chain and revealed a key. With shaky hands he forced it into the lock and pulled an item from the now opened box.
He held a cross made of solid gold.
Daigo jumped at a loud knock at the door, he quickly locked the cross inside the box and tossed it back into its home.
"My lord?" said a male's voice.
Making sure anything resembling that cross was hidden, Daigo angrily pulled the door open.
"What?!" Daigo shouted in the face of the slightly cowering human servant.
"I'm sor-ry if I'm bothering you my lord bu-"
With a smile that could melt the snow, the Grand Lord said:
"Calm down my boy, you've simply taken me at a stressful moment. Please, gather yourself and tell me your message,"
"The Grand lord of War has called a Council,"
The servant shifted from one foot to the other as have delivered his news.
With a bow, the servant walked as fast as he could till he was out of sight.
Sweat fell from the fox like tears from his mother's face. Ever since Oren was taken away, Frost swore to get his brother back. He had taken to working out as often as he could; through five months of pain and the utter breakdown of his mother; he had grown quite the figure. This was however a double edged sword. Sometimes Winecast got visitors, sometimes this visitor was a girl who happened to have a taste for muscled men. Other times it was men with the same taste.
Frost had chosen the old stables as his workout ground. Molded and broken, ceiling filled with holes; it's a miracle that the Robert Winecast memorial stables hadn't collapsed within the twenty years of it being retired.
Oren was never good on his own. He was afraid of practically everything, from spiders to shadows. Frost sat, shirtless on the floor; breathing heavy after his usual regiment. Not caring about the cold winds tearing at his body.
"Really, Frost? Tonight is when we break our chains; but here you are tiring yourself out!"
A Human man stood in the the place where a door used to live. His red hair was long and messy; it clearly had not been washed in at least a month or two.
"We have an hour,"
The man slightly relaxed his demeanor. Frost's eyes followed him as he walked towards him and sat next to the fox.
"So, Colborn... what are you gonna do once we are free?"
The man shifted his weight before pulling from his pocket a bottle of ale, he proceeded to take a swig before handing the drink to his friend.
"My eyes point north, I miss me family... you should come with me, slavery is illegal in the caldrinian republic,"
"I- I need to find my brother,"
"Just how will you do that? Not to sound like a prick but their are a lot of guards in the capital,"
Remembering the drink in hand, Frost downed the rest of it and continued talking.
"I don't know, but I will,"
"Ever the hero... Think it's time we give a speech to our rebellious friends."
The fox and man walked into what the would-be-rebels made their base; the old wine cellar. Around thirty men and twenty women, some children, stood there cramped in the only place they knew ears would not follow.
"Brothers and sisters of the chain!"
Frost nearly shouted so as to silence the mutterings from the group of humans and animal-men/women
.
"Lord Winecast has led most of his garrison away under orders from the lord of war to help stop the threat of the black band... I would like to thank miss Laura for granting us this information!"
Everyone cheered the girl's name, causing the she-wolf standing in the corner to blush and cover her face.
"We know not how many guards still hold the halls of this bloody keep... but we do know one very important thing!"
Frost paused for dramatic effect.
"We know that tonight our chains are broken, possibly through death."
That caused an uncomfortable set of shifting and more muttering from the group.
"Those who wish to leave, those who fear the possibility... leave, no one will judge you,"
A man spoke up at that, a voice Frost couldn't spot.
"Not really giving us a choice are you?
If we stick around, Winecast will be extra cruel to make sure we, nor future slaves escape like you did... or if you fail... try to run."
Frost was taken aback by this, before he could make a fool of himself Colborn spoke up.
"Fuck this, if you want to continue sucking the lord of the wine off, do so.
If you want to show that your life is worth fighting for, grab a sword and come with me!"
Colborn spotted a rusty horseshoe laying on the ground floor. Picking it up he pulled from his pocket a thick rope. He placed the rope within the middle of the metal and bended said shoe closed so the rope could not easily escape.
He slapped Frost's chest with the back of his hand and ran at the exit. Kicking it open he spotted a single guard, whom was practically asleep, and gave him a deep warcry that jumped him awake. He ran at the frightened guard, swinging his weapon above his head like a lasso.
Frost and his fellows ran out of the cellar to see what the madman was up to.
The poor guard struggled to pull his sword from its scabbard; just as he loosed it the horseshoe smashed upon his cheek. As the man fell, Colborn griped the halfway out sword, letting gravity do the rest to remove it from its home.
The man let out a sharp cry as the plain steel blade was forced into his stomach cutting past the cheap leather with ease. Blood soaked the gravel around the man as he went into shock. The armory was small and unlocked, Colborn gave the dying guard a kick to the head for good measure and ran into the building. He returned seconds after with a pile of weapons that he tossed at the surprised people's feet.
"Well?" Colborn smiled.
He was met with a collective cheer that could put the bellowing of the horns of war to shame.
The pile was soon gone with slave's who couldn't wait to get a weapon in hand.
"Plenty more in the armory for those who didn't get one!" Laughed the man.
Most of the crowd ran into the armory, grabbing what they could.
"You do know how to rally the troops," smiled Frost
"You do too, just in a more... noble-esk way,"
"I've read a lot of history... thing is, most who make those inspiring types of speeches often end up killed or disgraced,"
"Well, you don't have to worry about part of that... for what grace does a slave have?"
"None, lest he take it for himself."
A large wooden door that led directly into the castle kitchen swung open and an old man in a blue nightgown and slippers walked out of it. He held a pair of spectacles that he previously was wiping with a piece of cloth.
"What's all this noise?
Dammit Ricks, if you think you can play one of your bullshit parties just because the lord is away... you gotta another thing coming; how you became the captain of the guard I will never know!"
The old man finally placed his glasses on, reveling to him fifty slaves with decent swords staring right at him.
He took one small step back in the door, then another.
Frost decided it was his turn to lead. He shouted as loud as he could: Charge!
With him leading the way, a storm of slaves ran at the door. The man barely had a chance to turn around before Frost's weapon landed in his stomach; blade revealing itself through his back. Frost quickly pulled the weapon out and ran into the castle.
His army following his example. every slave made sure to pierce the man's skin as they trampled him.
They looted and destroyed everything in their way, any guard was immediately cut down due to the overwhelming force of rebels.
Seven guards, one of them with shiny steel armor as opposed to the leather and bad iron the others wore, stood with swords ready at the horad.
Men, fall back, we must protect the Winecasts! Shouted the steel coated one. Every guard with the exception of one retreated. Six ran towards the chambers of Aura Winecast, it was no doubt she had taken her two children and visiting niece there.
The brave guard's attempt to slow the slaves failed horribly as he was cut down without laying a single wound upon the united force. A door of metal was slammed shortly later by the
retreating men.
Most of the group had looted the castle of what they could, stolen a horse or just ran away. Around ten stayed.
"Frost, think it's time we loot and leave... they aren't any threat to us,"
Colborn grabbed his friend's shoulder, turning him around.
"Don't you get it?
We can trade that basterd's seeds and whore for Oren!"
"Or Winecast could get his friends in Jolden to send some assassin's after us and Oren could be executed just to be sure he doesn't attempt anything like his brother!"
"Umm, me sirs?
The two simultaneously turned to see exactly six men, both animal and human, and four women staring at the two.
"Me sirs," repeated a male tiger who stood in the middle of the line of former slaves.
"We can't thank you enough... we don't have anywhere else to go... we was born in slavery and don't know freedom,"
A very muscular dark skinned human woman stopped the man from continuing his rambling and looked Frost directly in the eye.
"We want to help other slaves, free them and give them the lives they've either never had, or once did,"
The tiger spoke up again. "We want you to lead us, sirs!"
Frost and Colborn looked shocked for a moment before the fox confidently replied:
"Gladly!"