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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/623511
Rated: ASR · Book · Fantasy · #1503327
The story of heros and their attempt to save four dying empires.
#623511 added December 16, 2008 at 11:10am
Restrictions: None
Chapter Two: The Bedroom
         Astron heard the footsteps on the stairs before Barkus was even halfway up them. Intensive hearing was a very useful thing. The footsteps proceeded off the stairs and down the hall to stop outside his room. On the other side of the door Barkus raised a fist and knocked three times. The same strange voice from earlier answered.
         “Come in.” Astron watched as, shaking slightly, Barkus entered and shut the door behind him. Upon entering, Barkus had a chance to glance around the room. Now he understood what Florince had meant when he said this man ordered the best room. It was certainly nicer than his.
         The room had two windows. One faced east to watch the sun rise, the other to the north which gave the viewer a nice view of the cobbled street below. There was a four poster bed with a feather mattress and matching pillow. A beautiful oval rug obscured half the floor and a set of oak draws stood to the far side of the room, a jug of water and a mirror resting on top.
         But the room was not what caught and held his gaze. It was the man before him. But it wasn’t a man as he had first thought. It was an elf! The elf stood not two yards away. He had thrown his cloak aside and was now clearly visible. The elf stood around five and eight inches tall, with smooth and flowing shoulder length hair. And it was silver! His pointed ears stood out, pale in the moonlight shining through the window. He had blue almond shaped eyes and thin eyebrows. His face was pointed and free of facial hair. He looked thin and fast and seemed to radiate confidence. He was clad in nothing but a white tunic and leather breaches with knee high black boots.
         Personally, the elf looked impressive to Barkus, but he had never seen an elf before and therefore could not judge. He looked toward the bed and saw, resting on it a hand and a half sword in a glimmering sheath. Across it law two daggers and a willow bow with a quiver of swan feather arrows.
         “You’re an elf!” Barkus managed to stutter. The elf raised one thin eyebrow.
         “Of course I am an elf. Do I look like any mortal man to you? My name is Astron Slathright and I invited you here to seek your aid.
         “My aid” said Barkus. “Why me? Your….”
         “An elf?” He raised his eyebrow again and his lips twitched. “Elves are not gods. We cannot do everything.”
         “But what could you want from me?”
         “Mainly, I need your information. I need contacts. Who you get your information from. And you appear to be a fighter. That’s always useful.”
         “I spent a few years in the army. Got hurt. Fell out. Simple as that.” Replied Barkus.
         “Yet fit enough to fight off a pack of three Fell Wolves. Not an easy feat.”
         “But how do you…”
"I followed you from the border. I figured that if you have the authority to pass the border guards, you might be able to help me." This was all perfectly true. On the way to Varvis he had been attacked by three fell wolves. They were creatures the size of bears with claws and teeth as long as daggers. And he did have the authority to pass the border guards.
"Also what caught my interest," continued Astron. "You were followed." Barkus looked surprised. "Oh yes. One of the Black Assassins. For some reason it seems, the Queen wants you dead. Don’t worry though, I killed him."
         Barkus’s head was reeling. What was all this about? And why him?
         “If I say I will accompany you, what do you plan to do?” Barkus asked.
         “I have a theory I need to prove. I will travel back north to Triss. But I will need the help of a friend of mine from there. But I have not been there in a long time and I have not seen him in fifteen years. When I last saw him he worked in the Great Library. But that was fifteen years ago. Who knows if he is still there or not.”
         Barkus began to pace. When he paced he thought. The elf stood and watched him impassively. He had to travel that way anyway to return to the border. Why not accompany the elf? He could leave if he wanted to.
         “Well,” he said. “I see no reason not to. I am heading that way anyway.” Astron smiled.
         “Good. Now I need to leave in two days.”
         “Two days!” exclaimed Barkus. He had been planning to spend at least two weeks in Varvis.
         “Yes, two days. But I suppose I have given you plenty to think about. And I have things to do. I will see you tomorrow for breakfast in the common room.” Barkus began to speak but the elf turned and flicked his wrist. There was a flash of blue light and the next thing Barkus knew, he was lying in bed staring at the ceiling of his room.
         “What the?!” Barkus cried, sitting bolt upright. What was that? Had that been magic? He knew elves had magic powers but to see it used, and on him no less, was far stranger.

*    *    *    *    *

         Forty thousand miles away, Astron smiled. Everything was falling into place. Finally, things were going his way. His cloak flapped around his ankles in the wind. He stood at the top of a jagged black mountain staring across the valley at the solid black castle. Soon he would have his revenge. Then he thought of Barkus. If only he truly knew what he was getting in to.
         “But I can’t tell him. Not yet.” Astron said aloud. He still couldn’t tell if Barkus was a spy. He bent down and pulled his sword out of the body of the orc he had just killed. Three others lay around it. He straitened and turned his back on the fortress.
         “Soon….” He muttered. He began his descent down the mountain, his cloak flapping. Above, lightning flashed. It began to rain and Astron was soon lost among the falling curtains.



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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/623511