The Protectorate and Stuff
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
(Date Edit: Originally published 12/30/04. Date cahnged to maintain reverse-chronological order.)
CALL OF DARKNESS [Chapter One]
Time had stopped. The sparsely decorated room that were Archellion's quarters offered little comfort. He sat alone, his pale face stained by countless tears. He had kept to himself since he had returned to the Elemental League's main facility with his only true love -- dead -- and this foreigner that he had been charged with protecting. Archellion simply refused to accept his loss. With a cold fire burning eyes, he swore to himself that those responsible would pay. There was nothing left for him now.
Sensing a disturbance in the air, the master of ice turned to look. Perhaps it had all been his imagination. A terrible nightmare. Maybe ... maybe ... no. He killed the thought as he realized that this was not the familiar gentle breeze that resulted from his beloved Blizzara's entry. This was far more chaotic, crude. His vision still blurred from his tears, Archellion saw a small black figure. As he cleared his eyes, the image focused into the form of a black raven. Well versed in the nature of aviary creatures, he sensed something strane with this creature. Its stance was irregular, and it was not long before he found the message tube tied to the bird's leg. Inside was nothing more than a note written on simple parchment. He unrolled the message and read it.
Master Archellion,
I extend my deepest sorrows to you on your loss. This is a terrible tragedy. Please, do not concern yourself with who I am. You need know only that I am a benefactor who would assist you in course of retrubution, should you accept it. One of my servants witnessed the ordeal and has identified the murderers. I am fully prepared to lead you to them, should you wish to return the favor. You will find me at the base of Mount Hikaros at sunset tomorrow. If you have no interest in my offer, I understand: simply return my raven with this note. Otherwise, I will see you tomorrow.
***
Later that day, a man clad in ashen robes met the return of his bird -- whose message tube was found empty -- with a smile. Like the room in which he stood, his grin was a dark, barely hinting at the malignance it contained. The visage turned to the four young men behind him. Each wore a vest that made no effort to hide the masterful tatoos emblazoned upon his chest. The designs were similar but different: each had a circle with an interior design centered about the brestbone, each pattern the symbol of one of the four elements. Earth. Fire. Wind. Water. The rest of each warrior's chest was also tatooed with seemingly random flicks, but the style of each was again unique. Upon seeing their master's gaze turn to them, the four men stepped forward, each kneeling with his right knee to the ground.
They eagerly sensed his command. He spoke.
"Maelstrom: The time is now at hand. I have seen to the removal of the only credible opposition you would have faced. Go forth and lay waste to those who stand against us. Our plans shall finally come to fruition."
The men raised their heads to their master, their feral grins matching the lust in their eyes. Quietly, they rose and performed a curt nod in unison before executing a perfect turn and leaving the room.
