Shadow In The Sky

Initiation

Chapter 2

"Because he's not going to be the one who's gonna kill you."

Nathaniel's blood froze cold the instant he heard those words. He dared not move a single muscle, and Thuvalia's finger on the trigger of her crossbow easily saw to that. Mind racing a million miles per hour, Nathaniel frantically tried to think of a way to get out of his predicament. He instantly came up with none, other than being shot by a crossbow bolt of course. Well, isn't this a nice situation you got yourself into, Nathaniel!

Shaking his head, Nathaniel focused on the situation before him. Thuvalia was smirking, presumably either waiting for him to answer or waiting for her friend Angvar's command. The man was now trying to get the chest off the podium, but the thick, gaudy looking chains held the bulky item to the wooden stand. The two thugs stood there, looking confused as to whether they were supposed to help while they watched Angvar attempt to pull the chest out of the knotted chain links.

Realizing that the hidden man hadn't made a move yet, Nathaniel quickly glanced in his direction again. The other made another slicing downward motion with his hands pointing at himself, then to one of the thugs. He wants to... wait; he's going to attack them? Is he mad!?

Nathaniel’s shocked expression must have drawn some attention, as Thuvalia noticed that he was taken aback and warily turned around. "Just what are you looking at so funny-like, kid?"

Before he knew what was happening, Nathaniel saw flashes of steel at the other end of the room where the trio of men were standing, and gouts of blood soaring through the air. Blinking his eyes, Nathaniel gaped in amazement as one of the thugs fell to the ground; his back opened up from shoulder to hip. Standing over the wounded thug was an intimidating figure, and Nathaniel gave a start as he realized the attacker was the one that was previously hiding behind the gaming station.

The man wore a simple looking brown shirt and a lighter shade of pants, though from that point on, they were the only normal pieces of clothing on his body. A leather belt ran from neck to waist, and two thick looking leather pads were placed on each shoulder. He adorned a long, scarlet cape, and while on most it would have looked silly, it just emphasized an already imposing presence. In one hand there was a long looking rapier, and in the other a curved, yet thin, scimitar. His jaw was covered in a slight stubble, and his brown hair was messy and winded looking.

A jolt of hope surged throughout Nathaniel’s body; perhaps this man could overcome these criminal figures. A sudden urge came over him, and without thinking, he lunged forward towards the dumbfounded woman and tackled her to the ground. Nathaniel landed on top of her, ignoring her foul-mouthed shrieks and wailing punches. Hopefully this was as much of a distraction as the other man needed.

Blinding stars erupted across his vision as something hard connected with the side of his head, sending him flying off Thuvalia and onto the floor a couple feet away. Head spinning, Nathaniel uncertainly stumbled to his feet and hazily looked for cover from the inevitable rain of attacks from the woman. Spotting Vancaskerkin cowering over his goods behind an overturned game table, Nathaniel ran to the makeshift shield.

Guttural laughter erupted behind Nathaniel and a jagged looking axe whirled past his head, embedding itself into the wall not inches from his face. Stopping short of the weapon, Nathaniel turned to see another axe soaring towards him, launched from the arm of the other brute. Realizing he needed protection, and he needed it now, Nathaniel abandoned trying to dodge the projectiles being thrown at him and redoubled his attempts to reach safety.

The axe thudded into the wall next to the other, and when he was just feet from Vancaskerkin, Nathaniel felt a scorching pain tear through his left shoulder. Diving for cover, Nathaniel crashed into the casino owner and rolled to an abrupt stop. Hissing in pain, he looked at his arm to see a shallow gash along his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, Nathaniel noticed a bloody crossbow bolt stuck in the wall, crimson liquid running down the shaft and dripping onto the floor. I should probably be glad that thing only grazed me… but damn it this hurts!

The sound of metal clashing against metal rang louder in his ears, it sounded like the other man’s hands were full fighting his opponents. Which meant Nathaniel wasn’t going to get any help here. Damn it… I’m not much of a fighter, and by the looks of it, that woman and her lackies definitely are. Seeming to emphasize his point, a series of thumps shook their menacingly shook their makeshift shelter.

Mind set to trying to think of a way to succeed against his foes, a voice unbidden played itself through Nathaniel’s mind, sparking an idea that just might save him and Vancaskerkin both. …the contents of those bottles are very volatile if handled roughly… Nathaniel gave an almost forced grin as he thought eagerly, Now exactly how volatile are they?

Reaching into the sack and pulling out a vial of green liquid, Nathaniel looked straight into Vancaskerkin’s frightened eyes. “I’m going to have to use these to save our sorry asses. I don’t think you have a problem with me using these to help us win against these guys, right?” The crime lord gave a slow nod and Nathaniel peeked around the corner just long enough to judge the position of the attacking trio. Closing his eyes and focusing, he threw the vial over his shoulder and hopefully in the direction of their assailants.

What happened next, Nathaniel couldn’t have been prepared for no matter what he knew about the contents of the flask. A chorus of pain-filled howls and screams emanated from where Thuvalia and her teammates had been, making him recoil in surprise. Peering over the edge of his barrier, Nathaniel gasped in pure astonishment. Apparently, the flask had just missed and shattered on the ground directly in front of the group, spraying the liquid onto all three of them.

The fluid in the vials had turned out to be acid. A very strong acid, from the look of it, as the aggressors’ flesh was literally melting off of their bones and dribbling onto the floor in mere seconds. Thuvalia stared straight at Nathaniel and gave a wet, gurgling cry before falling to the ground, inert. Her partners soon did the same, and in only a minute, Nathaniel had defeated his subjugators.

Closing his eyes to try and steady himself, Nathaniel bent over and violently emptied up the contents of his stomach on the casino floor. I… I killed them. All three of them… so easily. H-how could I have done such a thing…

A more reasonable voice spoke from the depths of his consciousness, telling him that in order to survive, he had to have attacked them. I would have died if I hadn’t gone on the offensive… I did what anyone would have done in his situation. It's not like I knew what the contents of those vials were... acid? Why would Vancaskerkin need a sack of acid filled jars? He allowed himself to glance over at Vancaskerkin, and to his astonishment, the crimelord had fainted. Nathaniel grimaced in the newfound revelation; perhaps Vancaskerkin wasn't all that he was made out to be.

A shout pulled Nathaniel's attention away from Vancaskerkin and towards the still ensuing fight on the opposite side of the room. Cautiously looking from over the green felt covered barrier, Nathaniel watched the fight playing out before him.

One of the thugs lay on the ground, his life's essence flowing quite freely from the wound in his back. Unfortunately, that was the only enemy that seemed to be injured. The man with the two swords was exchanging blows with the other brute, his axe somehow keeping up with the pair of blades. Angvar was by the chest, who had apparently abandoned his attempts to free the money filled box, and was now making odd hand gestures and speaking in a strange language Nathaniel couldn't quite understand. The crook placed a hand in the air and pointed at the two fighters, his open fist beginning to glow with an eldritch light.

Nathaniel yelled to the other, "Look out!" He knew now that Angvar was casting a spell, and he needed to warn the other man, fast. Light-purplish light erupted from Angvar's fingers with a triumphant boom, and shot towards the pair who were in the midst of their fight. The magical projectile soared towards the caped man and crashed into him with an explosion of violet hued light, sending him flying across the room and into a gaming table, which promptly collapsed under his weight. When the stranger didn't get up from where he lay, Angvar glared at the thug and nodded towards the chest.

While waiting for the brute to arrive at the chest, Angvar's gaze scanned the room and stopped abruptly as it landed upon Thuvalia and her henchmen. His lips became tightly pursed and all colored drained from the spellcaster's face, his eyebrows deeply furrowed in anger. Nathaniel wondered what the relationship was between the two was, but before he had time to wonder about it for too long, Angvar held up a hand for the thug to stop. "Hold for a moment. I need to make this 'heroic' piece of shit pay for what he and his little friend did." With a chill, Nathaniel realized the deathly tone in the man's voice was directed at him and the stranger.

Angvar drew a sickle from beneath the folds of his robe; the curved blade looking wickedly sharp even in the somewhat dimly lit room. He stalked towards the caped man, who was still lying unmoving and prone across the ruined table. Knowing he had to do something to save his life, Nathaniel spotted an average looking dagger tucked in a loop of Vancaskerkin's belt. Without asking, time was of the essence, Nathaniel took the weapon from the unconscious crimelord and stalked closer towards the pair of foes, stopping briefly behind an overturned table or seat for cover once every few moments.

His own success surprised himself. Nathaniel never thought of himself as being the silent type, but he was clearly showing that he was more than capable in that aspect. Angvar and his partner oblivious to his presence, Nathaniel leapt out from behind his cover and stabbed downwards at the closest one towards him. Angvar backed away in surprise, not expecting to see Nathaniel hanging from his subordinate from a deeply embedded dagger in the brute's back. The brute fell to the ground almost instantly, crimson liquid oozing from the deep wound. Nathaniel stared in shock once again, not quite ready for the ramifications of his actions.

A fist to the head took Nathaniel out of his guilty stupor quite quickly, and he gave a pained shout as he landed hard on the ground next to the thug that he might or might not have killed. Wincing in pain, Nathaniel looked up at Angvar, who was currently walking towards him with a look on his face that reminded Nathaniel of when a predator stalks his prey. "I hope you and your friend here have had some fun, because it all ends here. You will pay the price for felling my... trusted partners. Prepare to die!"

Nathaniel never thought he would see such a look of pure hatred upon one's face in his lifetime, but he nevertheless saw it clearly laid out upon Angvar's livid features. Time seemed to slow as the robed man's arm whipped down towards him, and Nathaniel raised an arm in a futile attempt to somehow block the attack. As the sickle's point moved closer and closer towards his neck, Nathaniel closed his eyes in resignation. I'm such a dullard, trying to play the hero in a situation where there was no chance of success. I couldn't save that stranger's life, or even mine for that matter... Nathaniel slowly closed his eyes in defeat, resignedly waiting for the killing blow.

But it never came. Instead, Angvar gave a pained shriek and something warm and wet splattered across Nathaniel's face. Cracking his eyes open the slightest bit, he let out a surprised shout at the sight of the dead spellcaster suspended in the air above him. Two very familiar looking swords sprouted from Angvar's chest, covered with a dark hued liquid that Nathaniel was beginning to recognize all too well. Each sword was angled inwards, creating a cross-shaped figure that allowed the wielder to hold the corpse in the air with the swords. Speaking of whom, Nathaniel's sure-to-be-terrified-looking eyes traveled up from the pair of blades to the owner himself. The man let out a chuckle. "That was a close fight, wasn't it?"

The fact that the stranger could keep such a lighthearted attitude up in such a place somewhat confused Nathaniel. Apparently the man was no stranger to battle. Nathaniel nodded slowly, and the other man smiled while lowering Angvar to the ground, slipping his weapons out of the robed man's back. "You're a brave one, to take on such a number... with no fighting experience, I take it."

Again, Nathaniel found he couldn't speak properly. With a slightly embarrassed nod, he glanced over to the melted looking bodies of Thuvalia and her counterparts, and a pang of guiltiness and sorrow shot through his gut. "I... I didn't mean to kill them... I mean... I just..."

The stranger knelt down on one knee and looked at Nathaniel, a stern expression on his face. "No goodhearted person takes pleasure in killing others, but everyone must realize that sometimes, it boils down to that and battle can’t be avoided." The man lowered his eyes to his blades; then looked up again. "If I hadn't killed this man here, you would have been dead. Now you can’t tell me that’s a prospect you like the sound of.”

Finally letting a smile creep across his features, Nathaniel had to agree. “Not at all, I’d rather be alive and kicking, thank you very much.”

Laughing, the other stood and reached out a hand to help Nathaniel up and away from the two on the ground. As he rose, the helpful pull turned into a strong handshake. “The name's Leonard, by the way. You?”

Nathaniel smiled. “I’m Nathaniel. Nathaniel Clifton”