Ch6: In a World of Broken Things

The City. The Man in Red. The Prisoner

His eyes snapped open, reality catching up to him as he was brought back to present time. Darius ran a finger across the scar on his chest. A single bullet had been fired that day, but now, years later, he still wore the scar, a memory from a forgotten time.

It was dawning.        

When the fire had been put out, he checked that Sheth was by his side and, as always, it was. During the years since he created it, it had become like a friend to Darius, like an extension of himself. It had served him well ever since that late summer’s night when he lost her. Darius took a deep breath, and took the first step of the day, not knowing what waited him in the village ahead.

When it came into view, it surprised him. It wasn’t just a village, a small band of farms which had huddled together around a landmark or a water source to survive; this was far larger than that.

This was a complete city.

Darius hadn’t visited a real city for a great many months… or had it been longer than that? He did not know. The days and weeks had blended together, so he could not be sure. He could see hundreds of houses, some bigger than others, but they were all gathered around some sort of platform in stone, it was large enough to be seen from a great distance away.

The small hope, that he would find a real bed, a warm meal and maybe even some information, was quickly faded when he thought of what had happened to the other villages. The plague had only been getting worse so far, and why should a larger city be any better? Darius started his descent from the desert hill he had climbed, towards the city. It was a treacherous journey down, the sand was too loose to have a firm foothold, making Darius lose control of the speed easily. By the time he reached the foot of the hill, he had been fighting hard to keep his balance, which was made worse when the ground changed to  compacted sand.
Darius was lucky to walk away with nothing but a sore body after that fall.

As he got closer to the city, he noticed that although most of the buildings were of wood, like in the smaller villages, there were also stone houses closer to the platform he had seen. Could it be that the platform was some sort of market place? Maybe a sort of gathering place… It was safe to say that it was a place of great importance for the city, and so, the stone houses must be for people of almost equal importance. Darius took a sip from his waterskin, and started the final stretch to the city of Cordale.

“Long ago, this would have been considered to be a road” Darius thought as he walked over a part of the landscape where the sand was more compact than elsewhere. Maybe there had even been a stone road here back before this part of the world went to hell.

A gateway had collapsed long ago where the road ended and the city started, now it was just a rumble of buried stone. Long ago guards might have greeted him, saluting the tired ranger after his long journey from distant lands. The gateway had been wide enough for two carts to run along sideways, while still leaving room for people walking on foot, Darius saw as he carefully climbed past the rumble that had once been the arched roof. There were small entrances with rotted, wooden doors on either side of the pathway. Rooms for the guards on duty that was long gone. Darius tried opening one of the doors but with half of it being buried in the sand, it would not move an inch. So he tried shoving himself against the wood, putting all his weight into it and with a startled yell he not only managed to enter the room, but he went straight through the rotted wood. As he got up, confused and off balance, he brushed away the sand and stared at the gaping hole in the door which he had entered through.  Rot was one thing, but this had left the door merely a shell… as if the interior itself hadn’t just been eaten away at, but disappeared entirely, leaving only the appearance of a door,  without any substance.

Searching the small room took no more than a few minutes and proved fruitless… not that he knew what he was looking for, anything would do at this stage of the journey. He had barely any water left, his shelter no more than tattered cloth, and his flint and tinder was worn thin.  Yet the room only seemed to contain a small sand filled hearth for cold nights, a broken table and what seemed to be a chess board entirely in polished stone, however all the pieces for it seemed to be gone. After the quick search, Darius sighed and continued to the room on the opposite side.

This room yielded a minor discovery, for even if it contained the same furniture and such as the other room, this one contained a weapon rack. Hope rose within Darius, but just for a second because the blades that were shown there were rusted and unusable, it’d be too much of a pain to carry them with him to take them, and it’d break at the first sign of a fight. Darius let the blades rest while he exited and continued into the city.

Wooden houses claimed this part of the city, for this was not like one of the fancier districts closer to the platform that he had seen from far away. Not to say that this was the poor part of town, way back when it had had the pleasant glow from open Inns, roaring laughter and music playing down the streets. There had been brothels with their girls walking along the alleys and streets, flirting with this merchant and that. This had been the part of town that citizen and travelers alike went to enjoy a drink, a friendly game of dice, a drunken fight, or company for the lonely night. Darius, of course, didn’t know any of this. This part of the world was foreign to him, and the city looked as if it had been abandoned for many long and hard years.

He knocked on the wood of some of the buildings and noticed that it all had the same quality as the door to the guard post, hollow and frail. As Darius walked down one of the larger streets, with cobblestone beneath a layer of sand, he came upon one of the larger buildings of this part of the city. A sign hang outside on rusted hinges, and the letters were long gone, but it seemed to have been a store long ago. The insides looked not unlike his own store back in Marles, and for a second he seemed to have stepped into one of his dreams or memories.  He shook his head to be clear of the feeling of nostalgia because he knew that pain would follow along those memories.

Darius were so caught up suppressing memories of a forgotten time that he almost missed something very obvious and something unsettling about the store. A minute went by, all while Darius fiddled with a tool laying on the counter, rusted to uselessness, but as he glanced towards the back of the store, behind the brittle counter there lay something peculiar. Something that made little sense to the him.

A loaf of bread.
In this world of broken things,
in this land of plague,
in this time of decay,

Nothing could have seemed more peculiar, more unsettling, more unreal, than that loaf of bread.

He could see the steam rising from it, so it couldn’t have been left out for long, yet to him, the thought of humans inhabiting this fundamentally broken city was alien. It couldn’t be. The wood couldn’t be used in its decaying state, the iron too rusted to be used… Yet there it was… A single loaf of bread threw the very existence of this city out of balance.

It seemed to take long hours before he recovered, but that was only to his malnourished and dehydrated mind; it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. He shook his head and was about to take a step to investigate, when he heard something that he must have neglected to hear the last minutes: hushed voices coming from the main street.

“No no no! You idiot! Can’t you see?! NOBODY comes from there… Again you were just seeing things!”

It was a male voice, although deranged heavily. It almost seemed as if he was talking with too much saliva in his mouth. It had been weeks since Darius had heard talking and it stunned him to the point that he didn’t think of hiding until it was almost too late. Darius scrambled across the wooden floor towards where a cabinet had fallen over, making a knee high barrier towards the inside of the shop, while he had the outwards facing wall to his back; it was as good of a hiding place as he was likely to get. The voices were still hushed, but Darius could hear how they were getting closer to the shop… Had he had any luck, they might have walked by it… But as faith would have it, Darius was a very unfortunate man.

“No no no! Hear me, hear me!” a second voice said right outside the house. “It was crawling through the gate! Me saw! Me saw! It was another! It looked as gross as the others…”

Again it was a male voice, but this one seemed younger, with a voice that sounded drier than the sand they stepped on. The voice seemed utterly disgusted by the creature it had seen, and Darius wondered through the fear he felt in his hiding spot if there was creatures in this desert that he had not yet encountered. So far it had seemed pretty desolate…

The sound of bare feet on wood floor caused Darius to freeze and hold his breath where he lay in hiding; he did not intend to get caught… Caught doing what? It was hardly breaking and entering when the store didn’t even have a door; although he had been hurt for much less. The strangers’ conversation seemed to have been reduced to grunts and snorts. Darius had heard of trolls when he was younger; fat, ugly things that ate children who were bad, but those were just fairy tales right? In this demented world he lived in he could not be certain.

“Hey, hey, hey, Snuff? You see that?! Momma’s been making that, that, that… Ehh… Those things… Ehhh…” He seemed to lose that train of thought and went back to grunting something that almost resembled words while walking towards the counter where the loaf lay. They would eat the bread, and then leave, thus leaving Darius with just the memories of it to satisfy his hunger… No… He could feel his desperation rising within him… Perhaps it was the fact that he had not eaten in such a long time… Perhaps it was that the hunt had been too long… or perhaps the hunter was just tired of being passive and never getting anything back from the world…

Darius knew he only had one shot at this and so with a deep breath, he stood up and got his first good look at the strangers. Their red strained eyes seemed shocked to see him, but it was Darius that was the most shocked. They were… human… or at least looked partly human… Their skin was a sickly pale green,  with patches on their mostly nude bodies that revealed open, red wounds. One was larger than the other, with patches of brown hair on his head and some sort of green fluid running out from the edges of his mouth. The smaller one was crouched down, supporting himself with his hand on the floor, looking at him disgusted but excited.

Darius hesitated for half a second before firing Sheth. Two shots, aimed to maim the two males so to not be any trouble to him; he was still not entirely comfortable with shooting to kill targets that had done him no harm. They both fell, if not from the damage, then from the pure force of the bullet…. However he had not entirely thought about the noise that the revolver had made and for a second, the world was quiet, resting in the echo from the gun…

Then, there were screams from far in the city…

Quickly realizing his mistake, Darius turned to flee this city of the damned, only to see that he was not alone…

In the doorway, a man in bright red stood, watching him. He was not like those two he had met. He seemed healthy, with intelligent eyes, and rich clothes. His skin seemed to be a healthy pale too… The only thing truly unsettling about him was his smile. It was too calm and collected, as if nothing was wrong with what he had seen, nor the screams coming closer and closer.

“Son… You aren’t from around here, are you…?” He grinned and nodded towards the two strangers 

Darius had shot. Unwilling to turn his back on the man in red, Darius glanced back only to see the two rise again, a part of their shoulders’ torn off from the shot, but otherwise not even noticing it.

“See! See! See! Me said me saw!” The smaller one giggled, and that was the last thing Darius saw before everything went black.

His head was pounding, his body hurt with every breath, and he could feel dried blood on multiple places on his body. Darius couldn’t believe that he was alive, but at that moment he wished he would have been. Surely the only reason that he was still alive was so that he could die in a more painful manner.  Darius was on his knees, and as soon as he regained his vision he saw that it was stone beneath him, not sand.

Hundreds of those… human like things… covered the sides around the large stone platform, crowding around the two prisoners.

Darius looked up and around, because he had registered that he was not the only on his knees with his hands tied; however he had not registered who it was, nor had his disoriented mind marveled over seeing someone else like him caught in a very similar manner. It was a man, younger than him, but strong, with dirty black hair that hid his face as he was sitting with his chin against his chest,  as if sleeping. He too was tied with his hands behind his back, waiting the judgment of his captors.

A low, dry, throaty chuckle could suddenly be heard from the other prisoner before he spat blood on the stones beneath him. He looked up and over towards Darius, grinning madly through his mess of a hair. He seemed even madder than their captors, with blood stained teeth and awaiting a similar doom, but Darius paid no mind to this; he was frozen in rage and fear.

“Looks like we’re in quite the mess, hm?” The mad man said in his dry voice, so unlike the voice Darius had heard so long ago, rich and joyful.

Darwin looked into Darius’ eyes with the same grin as before.

“What do you say about getting out of here alive, hm?” 

Ch5: The Turn-Around

The Dance. The Gun. The Dream

He took her hand and smiled as a faint blush arose on her cheeks before she nodded and rose from her seat at the table. Darwin truly did not know what he was doing, merely acting on instinct, and as they walked hand in hand to the open space before the tables he started to wonder what he was doing… what his brother would think…
Darwin bowed before her, a small courtesy. The small band of musicians that had stood quietly in a corner until now started playing a slow tune, embedding the room in a fog of emotional tones. Rhonda looked troubled and as he took her in his arms, her head against his chest, she whispered.
“I can’t dance… Darwin, I have never done anything like it…”
He smiled and pushed her away far enough for her to see it, but close enough for his whispers to reach her.
“Just close your eyes and dance like nobody’s watching, I’ll be right here to help you.”
He took her hand, swung her around slowly, making her feet feel the music and soon she no longer closed her eyes for him, but looked him straight in the eyes while he led her all over the dance floor. Soon other joined them, yet they remained in their own world, and it was theirs to rule.

That night she left long after her father did, dancing, talking and laughing with the dark haired stranger, time passing without either of them noticing, yet soon the Mayor had had enough and shoved them both out with an angry face. At that part Darwin smiled and apologized to the older man, who only mumbled a response before shutting the doors behind them. They stood before each other for a few seconds, just smiling like fools before reality caught up with them.
“Yet again I must leave you for the dawn’s sweet light, my lady, though this time I won’t need to say goodnight from afar”
He smiled charmingly, took her hand, and gave it a light kiss, although the second the contact broke,   she took a chance and with a hand on his neck, she kissed him on the lips. It wasn’t a very deep kiss, but it was enough for him to gasp in surprise. As they reluctantly left each other’s lips, they smiled in surprise, both in shock. Rhonda was the first to recover and, when she did, she smiled teasingly and said.
“Now that’s a kiss my Darwin” Then turned around and walked towards her home.
Long after she had left, Darwin still stood there, smiling like a goof and when he finally turned around and began his walk to his camp he whispered the words to himself…
“My Darwin….”

She opened the door silently, and found her Father in kitchen, watching her in silence… judging her… yet he said nothing at all as she slowly walked up the stairs to her bed. She fell asleep with a gigantic smile on her face.
Tonight had been good.

The days that followed were like nothing Rhonda had ever experienced before. Darwin seemed to make all her worries disappear, just by being close, or by giving her a simple smile. Darius however avoided both his daughter and her new… friend as much as he possibly could. The meals were spent in silence, each on their side of the table, and the few words father and daughter spoke to each other were always about work.
Darwin was never mentioned.

Darius focused all his energy into his work, but the small repairs he did for his fellow farmers bored him. How could he go back to making hoes, and repairing horseshoes after his success with Vicis?
He needed more.
He needed to discover the mysteries of the runes… But how? He couldn’t simply imbue common farming tools with runes of unknown effect or he would end up making a scythe which harvest souls, and thereby making the next Grim Reaper  out of a common farmer…
The thought amused him.

Days passed and the thoughts did not leave his mind, Darius figured that it was better to trouble himself with thoughts of runes, weapons and mystery than thinking about what his daughter might be doing this instant. Something that his old mentor once had said arose from deep within his memory…. Yet, he could not quite recall what it had been; it was like remembering a forgotten dream… Something about the property of metal… or was it the capability of mankind? The line of thoughts was interrupted when the door to his smith opened and a man entered.  The blonde from the feast…
The brother of Rhonda’s….friend.
“Mr.… Caretto was it?” Of course it was, the name hadn’t been far from my mind since that night, Darius thought.
“Right you are, Mr. Jones! Pleasant little shop you have here, and a constant income of work, presume, you being the only smith around and all!” The boy laughed…. Well, boy might be the wrong term to use, Marwin being almost…. Five-and-twenty? Darius did not know.  The older man smiled, as he studied the younger before him, tall, fit, a charming smile, he could see why the girls gave him such longing looks, yet… there was something unsettling about him, Darius knew not what it was.
“The work is constant, and the pay brings food to my table. But hoes, and horseshoes can only take you that far, as I’m sure you can understand.”
“Bored, Mr. Jones?” The question was asked as a jape, but Darius answered truthfully as he shrugged.
“Vicis was the highlight of the past 10 years, but I’m the only one to blame, a quiet life is satisfying in itself.”
“The sword! Aye, I can see what you mean, a true masterpiece, if you don’t mind me saying! That actually brings me to the topic I came to see you for. I have a job for you.”
“A job?” He raised an eyebrow, waiting to see if this was a joke, yet Marwin only nodded in full sincerity. The younger man unfolded a yellowing parchment on the counter between the two of them and pointed at the advanced piece of machinery on it.
“I need you to make this.” He said it simply, but nothing of what Darius saw, was simple. This was no simple farmer’s tool.
This was a weapon.
“Do you know what you have here?” Darius asked, astounded by the sheer complexion of what he saw.
“The cure for your boredom, I reckon”
Marwin smiled.

The dawn broke and Darius was already up, waiting for the older brother Caretto to bring him what he had promised, and if it was anything of what he had said it would be, it’d be worth it. The materials needed for the work was nothing too rare, except for one vital part of it… it was a certain metal, a metal which not even his own Mentor had even seen... and Darius was only minutes away from exceeding him at that point. The ore was rare, so rare that there was none of it here, not even in this part of the world… maybe it didn’t even exist on this world…  People had different names for it everywhere… God Tears, dream-dust, Margerius… Entire tribes worshiped it as some gift from the gods, the Archmagi used the dust for their most advanced spells, and even the few remaining alchemists used it for their search of the Philosopher ’s Stone. But one thing was clear to everyone;
It was rare
So rare that only a handful of tools had been created from it throughout the legends…. And now, Marwin was bringing him an entire bar…

The blonde man let the cloth-covered bar drop on the counter, making Darius jump high… He hadn’t even noticed him entering…
“All set?” the younger asked.
Darius nodded and unfolded the Margerius bar and let a finger trace along the smooth red surface. A heat seemed to erupt from deep within its core, not enough to burn you, just enough to make you know it’s there.
“Consider it as payment aswell, whatever’s left after you’re done, is yours for the keeping”
“You can’t mean… “
The blonde man interrupted him.
“I do mean it. Honest pay for honest work.”
Marwin smiled, turned around and left.
Not for the first time since Marwin entered the shop, Darius felt uneasy about the task ahead…  He glanced at the bar before him…
An entire bar…

Rhonda spent the day in the smith, when all she wanted to do was leave. Her Father had let all the work that he had started to fall on her now… for the last three days she had basically run the shop… was this his petty punishment for spending her free time with Darwin? Father could be so stubborn at times… He didn’t even allow her to know what he was working on….
“Four turns on each… Three…. No, no, no… six pinches of dust… Three on each, yes…” Father muttered to himself, but she could wait no longer.
“I need to leave early… I… got a thing…” She said, interrupting his deep thinking.
He sighed, and turned around.
“It’s that boy again huh? The Caretto boy?” His tone was demeaning, and she could feel her blood boiling at the sound of it.
“Yes, and his name is Darwin, and he’s special to me…”
He chuckled, shook his head and gave her a sad look.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re very… precious to him too…” He turned around, still chuckling.
“What’s that supposed to mean…?”
“Ever thought how many towns like this he’s passed through? How many ladies thought she was special to him? Haven’t thought of that have you? He’s a man, he’s leaving soon, and you’re a pretty girl, what do you think I mean?”
The words hit her like a slap, and she could feel tears burning behind her eyes. I will not cry, not in front of him.
“I can see now why Mother couldn’t live with you…”
She left before he could respond.

Marwin entered the shop and this time the older man heard it. He stood at the counter, cleaning the device from the sot… The darkened metal was elegant in its advanced simplicity. Darius hadn’t ever seen anything like it.
“Caretto, before I hand this over to you, you’re gonna tell me what the fuck I’ve created here and what it’s for….”
“You’ve crafted a gun.  What it’s for? Why shooting preys of course! What else?” The blonde man smiled, but Darius no longer fell for it… The smile never reached his eyes.
The blonde man let a single shell drop on the counter, as if to prove a well stated argument.
“Show me”

Ten meters away from them were six empty bottles. Marwin brought out eight shells from his pocket and loaded the newly crafted gun, cocked it and fired. Once, twice, thrice in a quick pace, before spinning, as if avoiding bullets, and mid-spin cocking it again, and firing another three shots. A single bottle remained when he was done.
“Five out of six, not bad Mr. Caretto.”
“Throw another bottle up in the air, Jones”
Without a word, Darius threw a seventh bottle high in the air. Waiting, the younger man aimed carefully and at the right moment fired.  Both the sixth and seventh bottle exploded in a rain of glass.
“I never leave a prey standing.”

The older Caretto left the shop without a second glance, holding his new toy in his hands. Marwin had named it there and then. Chas, after the magi’s word for Bringer, he said, and Darius couldn’t help but wonder what on earth he was bringing. As the door closed, Darius took the shell which Marwin had left on the counter and went deeper into the shop before removing the cloth from his secret project.
The twin of Chas; 
Sheth

The girl came to him in tears, red-eyed and with hair a mess; she was still the most beautiful woman Darwin had ever seen. When she finished telling him about her father and his cruel words, a rage had built up within the otherwise calm man. They were seated by the river, at the very same spot at which she had first seen him. It had become a safe haven for the two of them, where nobody else came, where they could just be themselves.

A big jumble of emotions stirred within Rhonda, it was all too much… How dared he judge her?! She was a woman grown and could take care of herself! It did not matter; she knew the true Darwin, and not the phantom which her Father believed in! Her Darwin was sweet, caring, and ever-smiling and nothing like the idiot that Father tried to convince her he was. She could barely see Darwin through the haze the tears had created, but she felt him, so close to her… and it almost made the thoughts of her Father go away…. Almost.

Time went by and soon she was smiling again, he had that effect on her, she just couldn’t hide her smile, no matter how hard of a day she had had. Though soon, the sun was setting and Rhonda knew that she had to return, no matter how idiotic her Father was. She rolled over and kissed him deeply, wanting the moment to last, yet the moment ran through their fingers and with a whimper, she rose and started to walk away.

From Marwin’s hiding spot, a little bit away, he saw every movement they made, and the second she rose, he started to doubt his brother. Had he forgotten, or was he simply on his way to refusing an order? He was just about to take matters into his own hands when Darwin called for her, and she, the sorry excuse for a vessel, turned around, smiling for her lover. The smile disappeared the second Darwin whispered in her ear. It was as if a light, a candle within her had been snuffed out.
She was there, but Rhonda was gone.

Darius stood in the doorway when he spotted Rhonda. She was walking slowly, arms hanging by her sides, and empty eyes. The stubborn girl won’t even say a word to me if I know her correctl, Darius thought as the empty eyed girl walked right past him and up to her room.
Stubborn girl….

When the black-haired hunter entered the camp, he noticed that he was awaited. His brother stood, leaning against the wooden post of his tent. The elder brother started to applaud slowly and ironic, as his little-brother entered the camp.
“Bravo, what a performance ladies and gents, truly amazing performance by Caretto the Younger!”
“I did what I had to do”
A grim facial expression had formed on the young man’s face as he saddled his horse.

The smith’s dreams were troublesome, which was odd because he never ever dreamt… He could never quite recall when he last dreamt, and this dream, he wouldn’t want to recall. He saw a plagued land beneath him, the fields were a sickly green, and the towns were rotten and the people dead… Yet they did not remain dead for long… Soon, dead men rose and wandered freely, spreading the plague wherever they went, until nothing else remained. The dream twisted, and he now saw a tower in the center of it all, and at the top, Rhonda was screaming, screaming in agony as her flesh ripped apart.
“Awake!”
The voice shuddered the entire dream, like the voice of a god commanding the mortals.
“Awake you son of a fool!”
Darius awoke at the sound of horses outside and panic erupted from a place deep within him, for no apparent reason. It was the dead of night, yet there seemed to be a distant glow outside… Darius quickly pulled himself out of the bed and quickly out of the door, but what met him was part of his darkest nightmare.

“Look who’ve come to see you off!”
The rider laughed, a deep, sadistic laugh of a mad man.
Marwin.
But he was not alone.
On the two horses, there were three. The smile of Marwin was twisted, but Darwin did not smile, he did not even look, bu the most hurtful image was the devilish smile of Rhonda, seated behind Darwin. Sheth was suddenly at hand, but Darius had no memory of pulling it. The shell was loaded and in sheer desperation, Darius shot.
Empty shell.
He shot again, and again, and again, yet the weapon gave him disappointing clicks as response, and no shot fired. Marwin laughed again, pulled Chas from his belt and shot a single shot. 

The last he knew was the image of Darwin and Marwin, riding away with his daughter. Marwin with Chas raised in his hand, and Darwin with the stolen Vicis, although it was shining blood red….

Ch4: The warmth of a Stranger

The Sword. The Travelers. The Stranger.

Her heart was beating rapidly as she opened her eyes, she swore, she had fallen asleep even though she promised herself that she wouldn’t. The sun was long up and she couldn’t find a single reason for why Father would have let her sleep this long. He, who usually was so strict, so firm about never oversleeping, always to be on time, had let her sleep well past dawn. She would have usually rejoiced over the idea of catching another few hours of sleep, but today, when it really mattered, she cursed wildly as she put on her best boots and braided her hair. Halfway outside the door she swore once again out of frustration, she had forgotten something quite vital…
Her shirt.

Rhonda was breathing heavily as she swung the door open to Father’s smith. The air was thick with heat and she could hear the familiar sound of the hammer against the anvil. When he looked up to see who entered he saw her daughter, red faced and with eyes that said one thing only: she was not amused… He looked down again to focus on the work, which today could have been a simple day’s work, but Darius was not much for making things easy. The blade he worked on was just an ornament sword that the mayor had asked, and paid handsomely for. The blade would never see battle, but Darius did not care. He made each of his tools and weapons as if they were to face hell and still be of use. The blade was by all means nice to look at, but if you were to see it in the hands of your opponent, it’d put fear in your heart. The blade was a masterpiece, weapons and especially swords had always been Darius’ passion. It was not the average slash blade, it had a sharp edge and a sturdy parry side, the sharp end had a small curve upwards with barbs for extreme damage to the flesh and entrails, which ended with such a sharp end that it hurt only to look at it. The entire sword was covered with Runes in deep black, stamped into the metal itself.

Rune craft allowed a smith to enhance his work with powers to make them indestructible, untouchable to time’s toll and even more, if you were willing to learn. The craft had taken years and years for Darius to learn, with a mentor who’s discipline were to be matched with the Monks who lived in the deep mountains.  The time was well spent though, now his blades were the sharpest, his metal, the hardest, and his knowledge the greatest within this part of the world.

He was now making a finishing touch, and, even if he never would admit it, he was experimenting. He wanted it to make an impression to those who saw it, and he thought he knew how…  There was a technic that his mentor had been trying to teach him when his mentorship so suddenly… ended. The runes were hard to interpret, and each line had a thousand meanings, depending on the combinations.

He let a small grunt escape him as the final rune was stamped into the cooling metal and he felt calmness surge through his body as he grabbed the blade. Darius smiled at the emotion, he had succeeded; now this blade would calm its wielder no matter the situation… but what happened next was beyond what he imagined…  A blue glow started to shimmer along the blade, erupting from the hilt, slowly reaching out towards the sharp edge. Darius swung the blade and found it with amazing balance, this was truly his finest work.

Rhonda peeked from the counter at her father’s latest work. The blade was truly a masterpiece belonging with the legend, beyond anything he had ever done, and now it would spend the rest of eternity in a fat mayor’s office…  She sighed, she had never understood why he had wished for this life, making tools and ornaments in a small village, when his work could have been praised all over the world.  Rhonda asked herself for the millionth time what Marles had to offer her in the future. Would she too become one of the housewives to one of the townsmen? Or maybe even to a councilmember? She shuddered at the thought of the fat bellied men in the council, who had more hair on their back than on their head… Maybe she would inherit the smith his father…  No, she couldn’t think like that. Her father was still strong… and with plenty of hair on his head….

Her thoughts were pushed aside as her curiosity built about the blade in her father’s hand.
“That blade, it’s special, isn’t it?”
Her Father looked up, the blade still at hand, and faced her daughter.
“The runes within it is connected with its wielder, and only when he or she is in complete balance with him- or herself can the blade reach it’s true potential. When it’s at balance, it’s quicker, lighter, truer and far deadlier, because it also means that the wielder, is in full control. The blade shines of blue, when it’s at home. “

Her eyes widened as he spoke, never had she thought her father’s talents to extend to this point. To her, the blue shine had only been another piece of the ornament. This was… magical, yet she dared not say the word at his presence. He had tried to explain the difference between what he did, and what magic was when she had asked many years ago.
The basics of it had been this:
Runes take their strength from certain sources, depending on what rune. Strengthening metal has their source in the metal itself, while some drain power from the user, and the most advanced runes takes their energy from the target. Those who uses runeweapons does not need knowledge about these types of sources to use the weapon, the only one who needs to know is the runecrafter himself.
Magic is a much different matter. To use magic, you need to build up a different type of energy within yourself to even be able to grasp the art of magic. Each time you use from this pool, it drains you, and will destroy you if not used carefully. It cannot be used without training, and even after years it would still drain you even with the simplest of spells. Her father had described this craft as a mad-man’s work, and that only a true fool can master the arts.
Rhonda had learned never to bring the subject up again.

Darius held the shining blade towards the light, the runes showing clearly, he thought for a name. A name fitting a masterpiece. He turned it, let it shine from new angles, trying to catch the meaning of the sword he had created , and just as he was about to abandon the quest, the name hit him.
“Vicis.”
The name made the entire sword to hum in approval.
Vicis had awoken.

Both father, as daughter jumped when a boy of 14 ran straight through the door, breathing heavily,  and making little sense.
“The riders, m’lord! The riders!”
Rhonda could almost hear her heart racing, could he mean…?
“I am no lord of yours, nor are you a squire, so cut the nonsense. What matter are you speaking of, boy? I have little time for babbling fools!” His voice was rough and irritated to any but Rhonda, she knew he was only entertaining himself by messing with the boy’s head.
The boy gulped, stared with blood red cheeks at the big smith who was now towering over him, sword in hand.
“The…erhm…. T-there’s r-riders coming in from the east, m’lord” His eyes went big as he slipped his tongue, and as Darius took another step towards him, he scrambled to get out the door as fast as his feet could.  By the time the sound of his running feet faded, both father and daughter was crying from laughter.

By the time that the riders were spotted by the villagers, they had gathered quite an audience. Villagers, shopkeepers, farmers and councilmember, medicine men, and rambling fools, all had come to meet the riders. Rumors was running wild about who they might be, traders, outlaws,  travelers,  but in all honesty: no one had a single clue.  Not even Rhonda knew, even after her encounter during the night… yet, her heart was beating faster than it had ever done before… what was happening to her?

As the riders grew bigger in the distance, the mayor, sitting on a fat horse which seemed to fit the obese man on top of it, rode forward to greet them, followed by two council members. Rhonda’s heart was quickening even further, would he recognize her?  Would he greet her..? No, of course not… They had agreed…  She sighed… So many confusing feelings inside of her…

The Mayor rode forward further, meeting the riders at a safe distance. As they met, all five of them stopped, stood in place for some short seconds, then headed back for town. The Mayor rode first, with the riders behind him. If only she could get a glimpse of him…  

As they reached the village, the Mayor waved a hand towards the two riders.
“These two men are travelers, and should be treated with all the respect of Marles. They of course will be staying in the Mayor Mansion and…”
“Actually, sire, we’d very much prefer our own camp, we will have it set up before twilight falls.”
The voice was rough and stern, yet in no way unfriendly… yet it was not his voice…
“Nonsense my boy, nonsense… I’ll have some of our finest men set up this camp of yours in no time!” The Mayor’s voice was prickled with pride, most likely because of his title as “Sire”, Rhonda only found it amusing, the fat man was truly easily pleased…
The traveler seemed to accept the offer, and as soon as the jobs had been appointed, the Mayor invited the travelers into his… so called mansion for breaking their fast with him. Rhonda guessed that this was partly a courtesy from the Mayor’s part, partly to save the strangers from the farmers curious looks and questions, but mostly because he himself wanted to ask said questions first.
She didn’t even get a glimpse of him… She sighed as she returned with Father…

Darius smiled a proudly as the Mayor unsheathed Vicis before the council, glowing a faint blue, not anywhere the strong glow it had when Darius had grabbed. The council was struck with awe at the sight, even if Rhonda had to hold back her laughter as the fat, bald man held the sword, the scene was just too comical.

“You truly outdid yourself this time Mr. Jones! You truly did!” said the man holding the blade, the rest of the council nodding in agreement,  but on the other hand, Rhonda thought, these men would agree with anything the Mayor said.
“It was all my pleasure, sire, all for the good spirit of the Council.”
“Truly…” The Mayor gave Father a suspicious, it was unlike Darius to speak so… formal…  but Rhonda realized that her Father only teased him the slightest, by adding another comical touch to the already hilarious display of human delusion.

Rhonda could hold her tongue nor curious mind no longer.
“Mr. Mayor, where may the strangers be at?” Her voice sounded small in this hall of men, foolish even coming from a smith’s daughter…
“Rhonda, this is not the…” Her Father injected, shooting a sharp, yet discreet, glance her way.
“Oh Darius, she’s just a curious little girl….” She felt sick as he said it like that… and the way he looked at her only made it worse... The disgusting little git probably got a stiffy under the table right this moment... if he could get it up, that is…
He continued.
“Well, the strangers, Darwin and Marwin are currently at their camp, resting from their travels, and for the great feast in their honor tonight!” He smiled his disgusting, rotting smile again at her, eying her once more all over, before he directed his gaze to her unnoticing Father.
“That actually brings me to my next point, the feast are mostly for the councilmembers and our families… but seeing your work here today, and years of faithful service for Marles, we’d like to officially invite you both over for this grandiose feast. Tonight.”
The moment Darius saw the grin and pleading eyes of his daughter, he knew he was defeated.

She walked into her Father’s room, where he lay on the plain featherbed, dressed and ready. As she entered he was stunned, utterly stunned by what he saw.
She was getting nervous where she stood in the entrance, worried about his silence… Rhonda had found the dress far tucked away… She had never seen it before.  It was brightly green, with white details showering over her shoulder down her front and back, in the pattern of flowers.
“Well…? What do you think…?” She laughed nervously…
“You… look just like your mom…” He smiled brightly, yet his eyes sparkled with the memory of his wife... Rhonda looked so much like her this moment, wearing her wedding dress and all…
Rhonda had only seen her Father this emotional a handful of times… she knew not how to react… so she sat down next to him…
“You look like the day I met her… She was just so beautiful…  and it makes my heart break not to be able to hold her in my arms… ever again…”
She hugged him, and a single tear forced its way down her cheek, ´but his had dried up long ago…

They entered the hall and was astounded to see it bathe in light, candles lit every corner and people was mingling in heaps…  yet people seemed to avoid Darius and his daughter. They simply did not fit. The only person who seemed interested in the newly arrived was the Mayor, of course…  He was always close by Rhonda, giving her compliments at all time, and she accepted them with courtesy, if nothing more. That’s when the door opened and the two men walked in.

The older of them had a bright mane of golden hair, sparkling blue eyes that looked like the river water during the summer heat, a smiling mouth and a strong jaw, and a strong body which showed years of hard work and it had rewarded with muscles that showed even through the fabric of the suit, yet it was not him that Rhonda’s eyes reached for.

The younger brother, because they were obviously related, wore very strong traits to his brother, with the exception of the black raven hair on his head. He too had a sparkling eyes, but they were a deeper shade of blue, and they were darting around the room, analyzing its guests and hosts… He too wore a muscular body, although his was slim, slender muscular in defiance to his brother’s big bulky once…
Simply said, Rhonda couldn’t keep her eyes off him.
And as his eyes met her, she knew.
This was the man from the shore.

The brothers greeted all of the guests in turn, starting from the end of the hall to the part in which the mayor and the Jones stood, Rhonda’s heart beating furiously with each second that the men came closer...

Then, as they finished small talking and shaking hands with the couple to their left, the brothers came to them.
“Marwin Caretto but you can call me Marwin, my sweet Lady”  The blonde man had a firm handshake and a bright smile.
“Rhonda Jones” She said shortly, only having eyes for the black haired brother, and as the brother stepped aside to greet her Father, the younger brother stood before her.
Rhonda reached out to shake his hand, but as he grasped it, he took it to his lips and gave it a gently kiss.
“Hello my lady”
“Hello stranger”
“Call me Darwin”

Ch3: The colors of the Night

The Quest. The Brothers. The Whispers.

The search was over. We had found what we were looking for… well…what he was looking for anyways... I wasn’t too sure about my feelings. I lacked the dedication that my brother had; the only thing I felt was the admiration for my older brother. He of course kept telling me about the dreams, about the glory they would share…yet I couldn’t simply obey such a command without having my doubts… what was asked of me was immense…
The village lay just a day’s travel ahead and my doubt kept growing… I kept looking over my back as I felt…almost watched, as if some magi farsighted me… but that was ridiculous of course thanks to our necklaces.  My brother obviously noticed it, yet said nothing to ease my discomfort.
As we closed in on the village, we stopped for the night in a nearby glade. We could have traveled through the night, but we had decided not to. We both agreed that it would be a more dramatic entrance if there already was rumors about them, and if they arrived mid-day and not mid-night.

The feeling that had been growing inside of me during the day was by this point so intense that it blurred all other thoughts into a desperate paranoia…  Not only that, but I found myself hearing quiet whispers all around me… at first it was like a mere whisper, something that easily could have been the subtle natural whispers of the wind, yet it was growing into something you could not ignore… I could sometimes catch a word or even a fragment of a phrase, but nothing more. As I lay awake that night, I could hear the voice getting lauder and incredibly enough, more sensual, like the caress of a lover. After realizing that sleep was out of the question, I got up, took a quick glance at my brother. who was already deep asleep, I wandered off into the forest.  The whispers grew as I walked further and further away from my older brother, it was almost as if the whispers had grown to a full-out scream within my head.
The forest thinned out to a riverbank, I sat down on one of the rocks and looked across the river.  I saw lights in the distance, torches and such, none of the non-burning lights which I and my brother had seen in some of the mayor cities on our travels. This place was so far off; I’d be surprised if they even knew of them.
The torches belonged to a smaller farm as far as I could tell, and I was struck with a weird case of homesickness, although I had no house to go back to, and the only family was my brother. It felt strange; looking at the farm on the other side of the river, knowing that I would never be able to settle down, have a family… The thought of the farm was as unreachable as the actual house was now, the river could not be crossed.
A darker shade of the rocks on the other side caught my eye and I swore under my breath for not noticing earlier, had it been an archer I would surely be dead by now… Fortunately it wasn’t, and the being had not seen me yet. From this distance I couldn’t tell the gender, but it was definitely a human. It appeared to be looking at the stars, which I now noticed was clearly visible. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to get its attention… I whispered that I must be mad while picking up a few rocks from the beach and started to throw them into the water. Soon enough the human rose from the rock it was sitting on, that’s when I could determine the gender, since I don’t think any male in his rightful mind would be wearing a dress, and certainly not at this hour! She went as close to the river as she dared. I could see her more clearly now, we weren’t that far away from each other now. Dark hair which reached as far down as her waist, a slender body from what I could tell from what the dress uncovered, she couldn’t be older than 18.
Simply put; she was the most beautiful woman I had ever met.
I waved to her from where I was sitting on the protruding stone, she waved back but I noticed that she was slightly uneasy… yet who wouldn’t be to see a waving man in the middle of the forest , at midnight.
“Do not fear, young maiden, I’m not to hurt you in any way. “ I said as clearly as I could in the tongue used in this part of the world, and found that the voice carried over the waters with ease. It was a silent night.
“You speak fair, stranger, yet Marles is a distant little town, and we do not see strangers often. I have myself not seen more than a few strangers in all my life, therefor I hope you beg me pardon if I seem apprehensive.”
She sat down on the opposite side of the river as I was struck speechless by the whole situation, her beauty combined with her alluring voice made her into the very face of all that I loved.
She continued.
“You are not from around here, are you? And I don’t mean Marles, I would have known your face if you were, but not from this part of the world even? “ The curiosity was obvious, yet I found it invigorating… too long had I been stuck with only my brother. He had no interest in any of what intrigued me the most; it had damped my natural eagerness for knowledge.
I bowed my head as I answered.
“Right you are, my lady. What betrayed me? My clothes? My foreign looks? Maybe my speech even? Or was it simply my dazzling smile?” I regretted my words even before I even finished, it was a stupid comment, so stupid, yet I kept the smile I had put on for the sake of the comment, it would otherwise reveal my stupidity even more.
I was amazed when I saw her turn her head from me and even more when I noticed a small change of color on her cheeks. Amazing…
“None of it. Your clothes may be strange for us, but there are many hunters even here, your looks might have revealed it if I were to study them more closely, yet from this range it’s hard to tell. Your speech is as perfect as your smile.”  I was more than dazed from her words, and even more so when I realized that my heart had skipped a few beats, what was happening to me?
“You see, I have a small gift, a gift I’ve had for as long as I can remember, I can sense men and women around me, sense their minds, their mood, mostly. It’s like seeing the purest color of the person. Yours is different from any I’ve ever touched, all we who live here have a certain tint which is easily recognized. You don’t have it.” She said it, and I was deeply moved by how easily she opened up to me.
“What color am I then?”
She tilted her head slightly and looked at me intensely…
“You’re very odd… your color is a bright red…yet it has been altered with… it looks like it’s getting darker by the minute… I’ve never seen anything like it!”
I was astonished… The words felt like they described me like nothing else… I was yet again speechless.

We talked for hours, about all, about nothing; we laughed at times, yet were close to tears at others. I told her parts of my life, far from everything… She revealed about her mother’s demise, her father who had buried himself in his profession after his wife had died… it seemed like she revealed everything to me.
As I realized that the sun would shatter the horizon in just minutes, we took our farewell, but before she went her way I asked her one last thing.
“Later today, me and my brother will be arriving in your town, please don’t ask me why, but I will need you to promise me to greet me like this night never happened. My brother shall not know of us!”
She nodded and funny enough, she laughed. I gave her a confused glance and as she stopped, she explained.
“You used the word: us. Not you and I, but us. I liked it, don’t you dare to think otherwise, but you don’t seem like the man who would use the word “us” expect when it’s serious.”
I blushed, I had not even noticed! She had really grown on me this night, and it pained me to leave.
“I like to see it as us, and we might see what Fate has in store for us…”
“So we shall, but we both should be going, dawn is at hand and we both have places to be.”
“Farewell, my lady.”
“Farewell, stranger.”

As I ran back to camp, I realized too different things: the whispers hadn’t been heard all night which I was relieved to find out. Yet the second thing pained me greatly…
I did not even know her name…

Ch2: The Flow of Time

The start. The man. The Rose.

The flow of time is something people use as an everyday tool, yet it’s still shrouded in mystery. A memory can easily get stuck in its strong currents, and follow you throughout a lifetime. Some memories follow you just for a short moment, without you even noticing its presence, before it’s gone. The second we remember a memory, that tiny second we travel backwards through the stream and live that moment again. It’s truly a pity that we don’t care more for remembering everyday chores, there might come a day when you wish to relive your life again, remember what you’ve lost, remember what you once had, appreciate someone you didn’t notice before. That tiny second can sometimes feel like a whole year, or more, and when you get back to your present time, you might not feel as young as you felt when you left.

For Darius, the rose was the start, much like a race, a race in which he had been in for years still. But at that point, the rose didn’t seem worldly important. A black rose from countries and places far away. Its simple beauty touched the heart of crafter, his ruff hands brushed it gently and a smile tickled his lip. But the bitter reality soon darkened his mood, this token of appreciation wasn’t for him.

Rhonda waved goodbye to her friend and with a heartily smile she began to walk the small road towards his family home. Her black hair was suddenly thrown back by a sudden gust of air and she welcomed the refreshing feeling filling her entire body. She was free for the time being and enjoyed every second of it.

The sun was close to setting when she reached her home. Her feet were aching as they always did after a long day of hard work, it was part of her everyday life, the daughter of a hardworking man shouldn’t expect anything less. In fact, she enjoyed the feeling she felt after a day of hunting, gathering or working at the shop. Darius had raised her to be a work-woman.  She opened the door with a firm hand and entered their home.

“Little ms Jones, come here right now.” 

His voice was strict but calm, none of the growing worry in his chest was displayed in this single sentence, this single command. But Rhonda wasn’t naïve, nor had she any of the stupidity which many of her friends had or faked to have in front of the townsmen. She had a quick mind, sharp ears and an eye for detail and, thanks to that unique combination; she noticed the subtle hints within his voice, and the obvious reason for using her last name.

As she entered their simple kitchen with their small dining table and saw her father’s grim face, she reflected upon what the cause might be. It was connected to her and it was something that had offended her father. Thousands and yet thousands thoughts rushed through her mind that single second of pure observation between father and daughter. A mistake in the shop she’d done a few days ago but masterly corrected within the blink of an eye, too simple, a piece of equipment she might have broken, ridiculous , she respected her father tools almost as much as he did himself. Hell… what could it be then?! How could she defend her case if she had no idea what she’d done…

Darwin

The realization was so obvious, yet so sudden that it was like being slapped across the face while talking to your friend. She cursed under her breath for her stupidity, and fore the fact that just the thought of Darwin made her blush like a child with her hand in the cookie jar.

Travellers were an uncommon luxury in Marles. Travellers meant that the merchants could sell their “special” merchandises for a “special” price, when in fact; they were some foolish junk which they couldn’t even get the stupid villagers or farmers to buy, for a price which was so through the roof that it didn’t take a genius to realize the fraud.

Travellers could also mean that they too had merchandises that were far beyond what these regular farmers and priests had ever seen, which meant that the town’s local merchant could buy it cheap and sell it for more. 

A win win situation.

It had been months since the last traveller had left Marles, the merchants were getting grumpy over every little mischief that the bored kids pulled, a broken fence, a stolen apple, even such a small act of childish boredom could set the townsfolk on a rampage.

Ridiculous really.

As if they’ve never stolen an apple from the local merchant on hot summer days when they were in their teens, as if they’ve never experienced the rush of excitement, knowing that you might get caught. Darius sure hadn’t forgotten, but he did ignore it best he could, only seeing through the thick fog that’s parenthood, thicker than most parents since he already lost one part of his heart, when his wife died a few years earlier.

A small trail of smoke had been seen a week before Darius found the black rose. To any other village, it was just a sign for another visitor, most villages had plenty of those. For Marles, this was the first sign in months of any other human being then the locals, a blessing basically. Marles sprung to life when word got out. Like a flower finally getting water after weeks of desertion. Merchants brought out their finest wares, cleaning their shops for the first time in weeks, even taking a long deserved bath in the nearby river. The dirt roads was swiped by the young kids, feeling the urge to do something when Marles lived through a drunken haze of excitement.

The day after that, two travellers was seen by the fine brick road, that passed nearby Marles.

Darwin and Marwin was on their way, and the dark ages begun.

Ch1: Desert Thoughts

A life as an outcast. A life as an exile. A life of agony.

Darius glanced at the falling sun and sighed, yet another night of his life was on its way and with a painful movement he rose and wandered back to the campfire. The gloom that lasted outside of the ring of luminary made his guise almost eerie. The black leather boots plowed through the sand and with his simple leather attire against his body, he embraced the warmth of the fire.

The nights was the worst, he had learnt this the hard way after years in the wilderness, surviving through stealing, by living like this he had found out what a gruesome world he lived in, if he could call it living, he just barely survived. The camp in which he now laid in, he had had for three days now, an extraordinary long time according to him, too long even. The closest village was only a day’s ride from there, but he was not yet ready for what awaited him there. Although he had done this for years there still lingered a sting of worry within his mind.

Something was not right in Hamsley, and not within the villages either, the people was not like the ones in its surrounding countries. Darius knew this, although the infinite number of villages and cities he had traveled through, none could lead him right, where ever right was. The earlier village of Minya was the worst so far, the decay that plagued the land seemed more dense here, you could smell it, you saw it in the people, you saw their rotten smiles that only told you one thing:

You’re next.

Years had past since he left his one and only home, desperate and half mad by grief. Following tracks that were slowly fading, misleads had slowed him down and he was now far behind. He was no master of tracking, but Darius had learned a lot during the years that past, more than most men learn during all of their lives, combined. The tracks had lead him through countries and lands far from his home, and wherever the tracks where, mischief and misfortune followed closely. Villages had been rampaged, all telling the story of a man mad with bloodlust who seemed to enjoy his killing as much as the devil himself.

Soon the villages on his road was deserted, apparently people had heard about this new merciless killer, following the a path which no one knew, Darius scavenged these villages for any supplies he could keep for his continued travel. Not much was left but whatever was left, was his for the taking.

Villagers who didn’t get away, was turned by what Darius called “the Plague”. A dark stench which infected the men who stood in it’s way. The Plague was light at first, a few villagers in every other village, but soon they grew in numbers, the further Darius traveld  inlands of the country. Minya had been all out infected with it, every man, woman and child had been plagued, the grains were poisonous for all other then the plagued and Darius didn’t wish to get like them, he had yet to figure out what caused this so he had no time to risk it, he was running low on supplies. Now as he closed in on a new village, he was struck with fear, what was the new degree of the Plague? What happened as the plague thickened?

A desert wind woke Darius from his thoughts, or it wasn’t the wind itself that woke him, but rather what it carried with it. Whispers. It wasn’t unusual in these parts, many men had wandered off into the desert in search of the Whispers, to eventually become a part of them. They were called the Whispers of the Dead, but the dead wasn’t the only ones Darius heard this night.

"Help me."

Darius flinched at the voice, that seemed to whisper in his ear, he could feel her breath against his cheek, he knew that voice. His child, his little girl, trapped within the claws of the ones who still haunted his mind. He glanced around; she couldn’t be dead, could she? But what other explanations were there? The Whispers of the Dead was the voices of lost souls, but she couldn’t be dead. Not Rhonda…

"Pappy, help me, please Pappy"

Tears overwhelmed his eyes, for once in a very long time he let his mind pass through the walls of his mind that kept him up, his mind traveled back in time, to that warm summer night when it all started. Ten years but he could still see it as if it was but a second ago.