The Knight of Dark: Chapter 2

The Black Well

The morning sun lights up my face, waking me up. I stretch and get out of bed. After splashing ice cold water onto my face I put on my armor and winter cloak. I put Grim in her scabbard and sheath my dagger and bow and arrows. I then make towards the inn's kitchen. Here, the inn keeper offers me a loaf of bread and a tankard of fresh milk. I thank the lady and wolf down the bread, washing it down with the milk. When I leave the inn I'm greeted by a bustling town. Horse drawn carriages were being moved around, townsfolk were haggling at food stalls and children were playing tag in the streets. The smell of freshly baked bread tickles my nose and the smell of cured meat was just so inviting. It was going to be a long day and having a snack could do no harm. I buy a honey smoked piece of jerky to snack on throughout the day. This was not a time for pleasure, however. Business had to be done. I approach Finley Mallister's smith. Finley was waiting inside. He wears a brilliant set of armor. It's black as night and forged for a true knight. At the shoulder pieces of the armor it curls up into vicious spikes, offering a menacing look. At his back lies a steel war hammer. It's nothing special but I know that if it is wielded with skill, then Finley Mallister is a man not to be reckoned with. I notice that he isn't wearing a helmet and let the tip of his brown hair brush just above his shoulders. It was slightly longer than my own. Neither did he equip any other weapon. It was just him and his war hammer. Finley looked up, “How goes your morning? Are you ready?”
“Ready as I'll ever be.” Finley stands up and beckons me to follow, we exit through the rear of the store. Around two hundred yards away, a dense forest begins. “We make our way through there. I know where to go. I have been preparing for this for a long time.” I nod and the two of us start towards the forest. “Have you any family?” I ask. “Yes. But I never see them. You see I was a reckless boy. Always getting into trouble I was.” He laughed lightly to himself. “My father wouldn't have it anymore. Some days he would hit me and I would cry. Scared of what things he might be capable of.” I shake my head, disgusted by what I heard. “So, when I was fifteen I ran away from home. I have no more to say on that matter. I would rather forget about my life that was.” I understood. I myself was glad to stray away from that topic, too. My mother meant the world to me and died. It was never truly discovered how. She died of an unknown illness. We were now at the edge of the forest. Finley looked at me, eyes wide, “I suggest you keep your blade handy. There are terrible creatures lurking in this forest.” Finley's fingers danced upon the hilt of his war hammer. I unsheathe my bow and hold it in my left hand. The forest became darker the deeper that the two of us ventured into it's depths. “When did you hear of this war hammer, Finley?”
“I had been hearing whispers around town of an old and abandoned fort within the Great Forest. It was said that many men had ventured into the forest in search of the ancient war hammer.” Finley looks into my eyes. “No one has ever returned.”
“But I suppose that all ends today?”
“Aye.” The both of us fall silent. Butterflies race inside my stomach. Never have I been so nervous before in my life. Why? We traverse deeper into the heart of the forest until midday. Finally, an ominous stone wall looms ahead. Finley suddenly rushes behind a tree trunk as thick as a palace's pillar. Alarmed, I crouch down on one knee. Upon the stone wall is a man. He seems to be pacing up and down. He wears a dark tunic with a moss green streak across it's front. A sorcerer I realize. They are wicked people. They have a ranking system I have once heard of. I recall that the ones who done a green streak are not the most powerful magic bearers. Knocking an arrow into place, I lift my bow. The arrow shoots through the air with immense speed. It buries itself deep within the sorcerer's skull, killing him instantly. His body topples over the edge of the wall. I'm astonished by the power of the arrow. After all, it is completely composed from a dragon. Finley moves away from the tree and nods towards the wall. The two of us rush towards it. The arrow removes easily as I pull it from the sorcerer's skull. Finley speaks in a quiet whisper, “These walls are too high for us to climb unassisted.”
“What do you suggest?”
“We scout the sides of this place. You never know...” I pause and say, “We should stick close to the wall. We will be harder to see.” Finley nods in agreement. We pass a corner so that we are on the right side of the perimeter. The wall seems to go as far as our eyes could see. “Dammit!” Finley breathes. I am accustomed to these situations and know that there is always a way to achieve something. I look at Finley, “Look around, we're in a forest. We climb.” Finley looks skeptical. “My armor is to heavy.” He complains. “No. You'll be fine. Just follow me.” I sheath my bow and make for the nearest tree. It's longest branches lean in just close enough to the wall for us to possibly make the jump. I began placing my hands on pieces of upturned bark and small, but thick, branches to climb up the tree. By the time we have reached the branch that leads to the wall, we are twelve meters high. I crawl onto the branch, using my arms to balance the center of gravity. I creep along the branch and jump. As my ankles hit the top of the stone wall I perform a forwards roll in order to break my fall. A sorceress on the opposite side of the wall must have heard me jump because has begun running towards me. “Jump!” I call to Finley. He clumsily throws himself to the wall. He wasn't going to make it. He grabbed onto the ledge with his hands, his momentum smacked his body into the wall, knocking the breath out of him. I hoist him up where he crouches for mere moments, regaining his breath. He gets up and holds his war hammer in both hands. I'm by his side, about to loose an arrow. “No!” shouts Finley. She was his. He dodged a streak of lightning projected from her hands and swung his weapon in an arc, smashing it into her stomach. She doubled over and Finley executed the final blow at the back of her neck. When she moved no more I flipped her over with my foot and gazed at the insignia on her tunic. A purple six-sided star. There were only two ranks higher. “I guess not even magic can withstand a determined man.” Finley gave a grim smile in reply. I nod and begin jogging towards a stairwell that leads towards the ground, inside the walls. There was nobody to see on the ground. Only crumbling walls and an eerie breeze. “Where is everyone?” I questioned. “There is no use to have all the defenses where they are not needed.” Finley looks towards a large well with a roof that was discolored by the sun. “We travel down that well. The war hammer is not located here. This is just where our quest begins. Just follow me. And I promise, everything will be fine.” I gaze at my toes and begin jogging after Finley with a sigh. The well was large enough to swallow a grown man. It produced a frightening aura as if it was enchanted with dark magic. The black well reminded me of fearsome tales that I listened to as a boy. We approach the well and gaze down into it. It's bowels traversed into the ground. I see that a tunnel has been dug as there was an abrupt stop of the black concrete that went underground. I can barely make out the bottom of the hole if it weren't for a torch that was deeper inside the tunnel. “And how the bloody hell do you suggest we get down there?” I nervously laugh. “Oh come on now lad! All you have to do is-” Finley jumped into the well making sure to press his arms and feet into the wall of the well. “jump in and slide down.” He begins easing himself into the well as the words were escaping his lips. I look over my shoulder suddenly. The old fort was beginning to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Reluctant as I was to venture into the well, I would not torment my mind by keeping out of the well. It was now my turn. I ease myself into the well and gently begin to slide down. It seems like an age before my feet eventually touch solid ground. “'Bout time mate.” Finley joked. “You know, you are a very different man from when I first met you.”
“Must be opening up to you.” He gave me an unsettling grin. “C'mon, we've a prize to be had.” The tunnel did not immediately reveal a destination other than a corner that further led them into darkness. But we ventured on. We had to. As the pair of us turned the corner we saw no light. I pick up a torch that is set against the earthy wall. I was not fond of this. We relentlessly scoured the maze of tunnels. On the second hour of venturing through the maze, we entered a vast room. It was shaped like a hollow rectangle. Finley gasped at what he saw. It could hardly be called a room. As he looked up he saw the frames of many other tunnels that led into the same area. He saw the same below him. Each level was about eight feet below the next and the opposite side of the room to them was around nine feet. “What do you propose we do now?” I ask, my temper rising. “The prize is at the bottom.” When I look downwards I can't see the bottom. “It shouldn't be too far away now.”
“I shall not be roaming these tunnels any longer! We'll be dead men before we reach the bottom!”
“It was your decision to join me! Now shut your mouth and do as I tell you.” He gazed at the opposite wall at the level below there's. “You throw that torch down there.” He gestured at the concrete slab that stuck out from the wall. I hesitate. “I said you do it now!” I abruptly throw the torch. It crashes into the ground and flickers, threatening to die. It remains alight. Finley looks at me as if I've done a treacherous deed. Then he jumps. He slams into the edge of the concrete and hoists himself up. Without waiting for me, he picks up the torch and throws it to the floor below and jumps once more. I realize that Finley isn't who he seemed. “What are you doing!” I roared. Finley was now two floors below. “I'm doing what I ought to. You just slow me down and I have no use for you anymore. Go rot in hell maggot!” He laughed and was on his way. I bore my teeth and threw myself to the level below. I roll to break my fall. I could not stop. Not now. The light of the flame could only reach so far. Finley wasn't going anywhere. His heavier armor would slow him down. He was climbing onto the concrete path two floors below me. I jump down to the next level. As my feet slam into the concrete my left ankle collapses, staggering me. It's painful but only for a moment. Finley was now two floors below me. I get back to my feet. Unsheathing my dagger, I inspect Finley, now three floors below me. Blinded by rage, I jump, aiming for Finley. I slam into him in mid-air, as he was jumping to yet another floor below. As my feet collide with the small of his back, I plunge the blue blade into his neck. An artery is severed with a spray of blood hitting my face. Finley had missed throwing the torch to the level below as it smacked into the side of the concrete and plunged to the bottom... my fate flashed before me highlighted by fire within mere seconds. I could not tell exactly but it seemed as if there were five or six levels below me until... A glitter of light in the darkness? Water! I was thrown into impending darkness as the torch made contact with the water. Feeling with my legs, I kick the body of Finley Mallister away from myself and position my body into a diving position. Without warning I'm wrapped in a black chill. I arch my back, making for the surface of the water. Filling my lungs with air, I look around. I can't see anything. I could, however, make out the tiniest flicker of light to my left. I had to reach the light. Swimming vehemently, I made for the it. Foolishly, I sprinted towards my destination. I trip over something and smack into the ground. It was very hard like clay and had something that felt like ash strewn over it. Gingerly getting back up, I make sure to walk more slowly, lifting my feet up high with each stride so as not to trip over anything else. I'm close to the light now. Realizing it's another torch I curse. I want a way out of the impending darkness. Not a way deeper into it. Yet I pick up the torch. I had to. It was my only lifeline. I lift the torch above my head and carry on. It was beginning to look like man had an influence on my surroundings now. I was walking on steps, crafted by the rock that lies underground. What I see next is a blessing and a curse. A dazzling war hammer of gold lies upon a pedestal, illuminated by the welcoming light of the sky. In fact the whole area is shaped like a dome. Other than the opening that I am at. The war hammer is located behind a small pond. The pond is a pretty thing, with blue water and mesmerizing flowers around the perimeter. Behind the war hammer is a large scaffold that someone could easily stand on. It's resting against the stone wall as if it was being worked on. Realizing that there must be sorcerers patrolling the area, I press the torch into the ground burning it out. I'm still protected by the darkness, hiding behind a rock. It was time to remove the threat and retrieve the prize. I was getting out of this hell. Alive. There were no threats in sight. This was wrong. I pick a stone from the ground and throw it into the pond. Immediately four sorcerers come into sight. Only four? I can't see anyone else. And with good reason. Three of them bear a navy skull on their tunics. The penultimate honor in sorcery. The last one has a flaming sword painted in gold. This marks the toughest and most skilled of sorcerer's. This was not going to be easy I realize. Dark magicians like these almost always cast protective shrouds around themselves which makes it rare to kill with a single arrow. However, I do have a quiver of dragon bone arrows and the element of surprise on my side. I could probably kill the weaker three with one shot each but the other was a different story all together. After inspection, the sorcerers begin to spread out, tending to their own business. I gently remove an arrow. Two of the sorcerers are by a tree, talking quietly. One of the Skull Bearers climbs onto the scaffold at the wall of the dome. The Flaming Sword is on his own reading a book. I guess it's about dark magic. Disgust written all over my face, I string my bow. My gaze, and arm point towards the one alone on the scaffold. Aiming at the back of his head I breathe deeply. In and out. In and out. And then the shot is fired. The reassuring thump of the arrow burying it's self into the man confirms that he is dead. He does not move anymore. I have definitely underestimated the arrows. I have decided that it would be easier to eliminate the smaller threats before taking out the Flaming Sword. There is a large boulder fixed to the ground closer to the tree. I dash towards it, quickly, after checking that everyone is preoccupied. Sitting with my back against the wall, I run over my options. If I hit them in the head it is sure to be an instant kill. But I couldn't hit them both at once. Or could I? No it was too ridiculous to shoot two arrows at once. Even If I could, the chance of hitting them both is too unfavorable. If I kill one of them, the other will be alert and discover my position. A distraction is what I need. There isn't much I can do. I finally make up my mind. My plan is risky but it just might work. I wait for a lull in the conversation. I dare glance over my shoulder. The two Skull Bearers are looking in opposite directions. Smiling and shaking their heads as if one of them has just cracked a joke. Now was my time. I pull back my bowstring and shoot right next to one of their feet. She looks down. As she bends over, I fire an arrow. Right in the temple. The other hears her fall. He turns. But his reactions are too slow. I shoot him. My aim slightly off, hitting him in the stomach. Just as the arrow meets it's target, I send another. This one hits him in the neck. I need time to compose myself. I hear a chair scrape back. The Flaming Sword must have realized by now that something is amiss. I place an arrow against the bowstring. I slowly breath out. I shoot up and hit the sorcerer with three arrows in quick succession. It's not enough. He yanks the arrows out and whips his hand. The wounds close. Fire dances in his hand as he shoots a ball at me. I narrowly miss but by left shoulder gets grazed. It's not too bad. I unsheathe Grim. In my left hand I hold my dagger. Apparently both my blades have magical enchantments. Let this end with magic then. I side-step a crack of electricity. The bolt nicks the dagger I bought yesterday. What? The blade is now a milky white. I shrug it off. The blade is probably just extremely hot, explaining the whiteness. I thrust Grim at the man. The blade nicks him in the rib cage. He bends over, staggered. I take my chance, slicing my, now white, dagger across his side. I'm stunned. Electricity ripples across the blade, frying the man. He keels over and feebly blasts more fire at me. I feel the full force of it. I'm thrown onto my back, momentarily dazed. But when I get back up the man is dead. How can it be that easy? I tentatively prod the Flaming sword with my foot. Nothing. I've underestimated my weapons. And myself. Wondering why he doubled over to the touch of Grim, I lift up his tunic. My eyes widen in fright. Around the wound his skin is pale. His veins look black around the puncture in his skin. What is this? But deep down I do now what happened to him. I just can't quite put my finger onto it. Slowly, I begin to recall my dream. What did that voice say? Power of the...? Power of the snake! Grim must hold poisonous properties. How could I not have known for all this time. I'm truly amazed. As for my dagger... It's as if it absorbed the power of electricity. Maybe that's it's secret. To absorb electricity. If so, I could zap anyone who crosses paths with me. No one would be able to stop me. Maybe it can do more than just absorb electricity. Will it absorb any power? Curious, I scratch Grim across the surface of my dagger. It then gently changes from white to an unlikable green. This must indicate that the blade is now poisonous to the touch. Incredible. I should get going. The color of the sky indicates that it's the afternoon. I place my blades back in to their respective sheaths, as well as putting away my bow. I make my way towards the large scaffolding. This is my way out. Possibly the only one. I hoist myself up. I climb onto the highest platform, about six meters off the ground. The opening of the dome is at least another five meters higher. Without waiting, I pull myself up the rest of the way using hand-holds and cracks in the rock face. Finally I'm out! I roll onto my back. Sucking in the fresh air. I smile and close my eyes, exhausted. When I open my eyes, it is dark. Afraid that I'm somehow back underground, I look around. I release a sigh of relief when I see a few trees around me. That's not right. I get up and take in my surroundings. One thing's for sure. I haven't moved. The mouth of the dome is still feet away from me. I came here with... Finley. I scowl as I remember him. We were at the edge of the Great Forest. How could I have traveled the entire length of the Great Forest in one day. Then it hits me like a hurricane. Magic. The abandoned fort and eerie well... the contents of that well. They were all influenced by magic. For all I know the forest itself holds insidious things. Only now I realize the hunger clawing at my stomach. If only I had food. I'll have to hunt for some. As I reach for my bow, my hand brushes against a bulging pocket in my cloak. Ah, yes! Luckily I bought that jerky from the market earlier today. I take a strip out. It isn't so fresh after a day's wait. Plus being in my pocket the whole day. But it will do. I greedily stuff the whole strip into my mouth. Mm. The honey influences the taste of the beef perfectly. As I take another piece in my hand, I begin walking. I don't care where. I just do. Well at least away from the mouth of the dome. As I enjoy more of the jerky, I slam into something. But nothing is there. I climb back to my feet, wiping a trickle of blood from my nose. I pick up my jerky and throw it in my mouth. I apprehensively hold out my hands like I'm blind. I jump as my hands touch something. How? There is absolutely nothing ahead of me. Then I remember that this place is influenced by magic. Using my hands as substitutes for my eyes, I feel the surface of what I'm touching, without fear. If it were a threat I would be dead by now. My brow creases. It's rough, like... wood. I slowly work my way around the obstacle. It's circular as well which further indicates that what I am touching is a tree. When my hands have touched what is probably the front half of the tree, it seems as if a ripple obscure my vision. Now I can see the tree. When I snap my head to the left there are more trees instead of the opening that I was just in. Damn sorcerers. I pull away from the tree and continue to slowly chew on my jerky. I look around for any sign of another soul. None shows up. Defeated, I stroll through the forest for half an hour. Then I see the flicker of countless torches down a hill. Barrenshire. I am more eager to get back then I realize and find myself jogging for the town.
The music of crickets steadily begins to find my ears. The sky is now a deep orange with splashes of wispy clouds, much like the palette of a creative artist. I have lived by the sea near my whole life. Harkfell is a large kingdom. Reminiscence paints a smile on my face. Being by the sea, Harkfell's trade, naturally, is seafood. We also craft fishing supplies. We weren't the richest kingdom in all of Blitawr. But the other kingdoms respect us. Seafood is a luxury in Blitawr as the West Sea is home to the succulent egg-fish. Well, that's what everyone calls it anyway. It got the name for it's habit to prey on the eggs of other fish. Thankfully Harkfell is built on the cliffs that welcome the West Sea to the land of Blitawr. Three quarters of the kingdom is built on land while the last quarter mainly consists of docks and fish markets on the sea shore. I did my share of fishing back at home. My father was always off either drunk or treasure hunting. As for my mother. Oh how I love her. We're a team, me and her. We were always the providers of the house. My brother George is nineteen now. But when I was back home he was only ten and mother wanted him to focus more on his education than fishing. I wonder how they're doing... When I was knighted it was like a covenant that separated me from my family. Often I would be doing Sedrik's dirty work for months at a time. When I got back I only had mere weeks to see my brother and mother before being sent off again. Why can't Sedrik to his own work? I suddenly feel ashamed for dishonoring his name. But why should I? Why do I even work for him? For the loot? Most times Lord Sedrik asks to see my loot but never returns it. I never dared to question him for fear of losing my tongue. Would he cut off my tongue if I did do that? Probably. I don't work for him for my honor. I do not care what others think of me. I am well respected, though and I can't think of any real enemies that I have. I now question myself aloud, “Why have I been working for this man? For the treasures he promises me and my fellow knight?” I snort at the thought. But then I look down at the ground. I realize that that is the reason why I work for him. I feel like a complete idiot. He has just been playing me. After a moments thought I reach a revelation. “He's been playing all of Harkfell.” I say it aloud like I'm convincing myself that it's true. Within fifteen minutes I now hate Sedrik. Not the people of Harkfell. We work hard. In winter we struggle. The water freezes over, preventing any kind of fishing. We all struggle and form a mutual interdependence. Sharing the little resources we own. During winter Sedrik looks the same. If not fatter. I suppose he sits in the Lord's Tower eating until he is sick and drinking until he is drunk. To hell with what Juan The Mad is interested in. What kind of name is that anyway? I am going to kill Sedrik Montgomery and free my people from the shackles of ill labor.
I realize that I have been walking but not taking in my surroundings. Only preoccupied with my own string of thoughts. I'm at the border of Barrenshire when I finally comprehend the rhythmic thump of a dummy being attacked I walk over to the sound. A minuscule yard is what I see. Someone is wielding a simple sword and hitting a hay-filled dummy. I fold my arms and lean against the wall of the closest building. It's clear that the person is a girl by the way she grunts. And that beautiful blonde hair of her's. She takes a step back and I get a chance to study her face. Kayla, I realize. I hadn't realized that she was into fighting. I move away from the wall. Now how about that companion of mine?