by Olivia Ali
Chapter 39 - The First Keeper
Dante hadn't gone after Tristan in the end, he'd grown tired of trying to steer him in the right direction and then picking up the pieces from where he'd failed. The boy was stubborn and arrogant; much like himself actually, but there was no way he was going to admit that. Instead he'd found himself staring up at the estate trying to keep out of view of the guards that littered the city. Pulling his cloak hood up further, he made a move towards the entrance gate. A couple of guards stood at the huge oak doors whilst another two circled the perimeter of the grounds going in opposite rotations. It looked easy enough for a Keeper like him to get past but the risks were too high to go at it like a cocky brat - his magic might not work as well as he assumed, not to mention the fact that some of the guards could be Keepers themselves and then his cover would be blown.
To the left of the gate was a patch of climbing ivy that clung tightly to a gargoyle atop the post, reaching past the ground that Dante stood on. He pulled on it, testing its strength against his weight as it held fast. Gently, he took a hold of the vines and began to climb the wall that encased the estate, reaching forward carefully with each grab and his feet nudging the wall as he tried to steady himself every so often. Once he reached the top, he scouted the direction either side of him to see no guards pacing. Taking his chance, he dropped down from the wall, bending his knees as he landed firmly. Luckily a bush now shielded his watch as the guards loomed into sight on their rounds but they disappeared again quickly enough. He followed the wall to the left, still shielded by bushes, watching the walls of the estate for the entrance he only presumed would be there.
The building itself was a great many centuries old and had once been the original Keeper Compound at Dilu. Any passageways that were there before would therefore remain and that would be his route. Spying a bluish glow, he stopped suddenly, watching the wall as the Keeper Port Key glyph appeared. He smiled to himself, watching the way for the guards before darting out towards it and placing his hand down on the door. The wall broke away and at once he stepped through into a dark narrow passageway.
Darkness shrouded him almost instantly and the only light became the small flame protruding from his index finger which he held before him. Bracing himself, he blew the flame and it jumped forward, splitting and lighting every torch it could find along its way. He smiled to himself, his abilities surprising him greatly. To his left was a staircase that led upwards and to his right the passageway bent around a corner. He took the right and it wasn't long before a wall blocked his progress further. His only option now was the port key that glowed on the wall which would lead him into the main structure of the estate. Reaching out once more, he opened the passageway it shielded and it opened out into a corridor with a red carpet that covered only the centre of the walkway a guard walking it straight past him without even noticing him or the corridor where he stood.
Sighing in relief at his close call he took a quiet step out and darted to the right behind a suit of shiny silver armour which stood in an alcove with its comrades lining the stretch of the corridor. Checking the coast was clear, he reached into his tunic and pulled out the blueprint he'd swiped from Boris' the previous evening. Unrolling it, he traced his own location towards the bottom of the parchment. According to the print, if he continued going right, he would reach the kitchens in which there was a disused stove just after the entrance. Concealed within this stove was a tunnel which led down to the basement and lower levels, at least that's what it said. Assuming that was his next point of call he checked for guards once more before jumping out into the corridor and rushing down its right passage. His eyes darted around for guards at every alcove; there was no way he was going to be caught out by one.
Spying the door just up ahead, he quickened his pace and disappeared behind the door without even a second look back. The kitchen he found himself in was quiet and dark - the servants had obviously long gone to bed before what would be an early start in the morning. In front of him was a stone cast stove which was coated in dust from years of being dormant. Instead of embers on the base was some straw; as to its purpose there though Dante had no clue. Bringing out the blueprint once more, he found the stove once more and tried to see if there was any indication as to where it led - there wasn't. How typical of Boris not to record such a minor detail. Grabbing one of the pots from the table he held it above the strewn straw and braced himself as he let it drop.
"Hey!" Spoke a voice from below in an alarmed manner as the pot made a clanking noise on the ground. "What was that?"
"What was what?" asked another who was either pretending or he really hadn’t heard the noise.
"That noise...didn't you hear it?"
"Oh stop scaring yourself. You got to expect these sorts of noises down here, you can't jump at everything."
"Well if you're sure...I just get so nervous. Especially now he's put more guards everywhere after the murder of that man."
"I heard from Elouise the other day that he was the boss' brother."
"Codswallop I say."
"That's what I said to her."
Shrugging off the conversation, Dante looked around the kitchen trying to find some rope of some sort. It was a quick drop for the pot but that wasn't the point. It was the hard and noisy landing he was trying to avoid. Finding none he shook his head; he really should've thought about this before he left. Climbing into the stove, he dipped his legs into the shoot and braced himself, pushing his body into the tunnel and sliding down to the bottom. Darkness enveloped him as he slid, air rushing past his face at an increasing speed. He dared to look down, seeing the light of a cobblestoned floor getting closer. Trying to bend his knees slightly to better his landing he braced himself. As one foot landed firmly on the ground, the other landed on the pot and he felt his ankle bone crunch and break. Tears filled his eyes as he winced at the pain, trying to keep himself from making any noise at all.
Dante fell back against the wall, his ankle throbbing. Out of the corner of his eye he could make out two guards clad in chain mail and a purple tunic that went over it, a silver eagle marking Hagen's crest on the chest and a brown belt holding it in place at their waist. They hadn't seen him or heard him by the looks of things but that didn't ease his panic in the slightest. Painfully and using the wall for balance, he slid into the corner and looked around at his surroundings. Chains hung from the ceiling and bars stood in front of him. He wasn't in a cage exactly as there was an opening between the centre most of the bars where a door would usually be. The room beyond where the guards stood seemed to be where he needed to go but how he wasn't sure especially with his injury. Reaching inside his tunic he found the print once more and found his location. The map indicated a passageway connected this room with the rest of the dungeons. Putting the map away again he looked up at the wall opposite him in time to see the Port Key again.
Wincing, he stumbled to the other corner, using the wall to steady himself again. Placing his palm on the port key, he pressed down and the wall parted ways to reveal a gap just big enough for him to step through. A quick glance at the room beyond told him there were no guards around so he limped into the centre of the room. Ahead of him were several wooden doors with slats in the top panel that were only big enough to peer through. On the walls around him were chains and various torturing apparatus hanging to taunt the prisoners. Behind him he could see the guards through a small slat in the door which mirrored those opposite. As the pain in his ankle eased with his progressing speed, he checked the gaps in each of the doors all of which turned out empty, that is except for the end one in which a thin and bloodstained man with wet long hair that covered his face knelt, his arms hanging in place by some thick rusty chains that clung to the ceiling. Dante's heart skipped a beat as he reached for the door handle to find it unlocked and pushed it open, stumbling through.
"Just get it over with!" The man growled without looking up. Dante frowned, he obviously thought Dante was a guard or even Hagen come back
to beat him some more.
"Over with what?" Dante asked tentatively hoping he would look up. Part of him didn't want to believe that this could be his brother by rite and the other was breaking at the seams at the thought of him dying there like this.
"Don't play games now Percy," Percy was obviously the one who did all the damage Dante could see. "We both know that I'm not going to tell you what you want to heat no matter how many times you hit me."
"I'm not going to hit you."
"You're not Percy, are you?" The man said after a while and Dante shook his head, begging him to look up and confirm his fears. And so the man did and a pair of bloodshot grey eyes stared up at him and shock took hold of them. Dante let tears slip from his eyes as he looked upon the scarred and bloody face of his brother.
"Dante?" He croaked in disbelief.
"Hello Felix!" Dante said, his voice shaky with distress.
"But how?"
"It's hard to explain but I was summoned...to help Tristan remember."
"Of course, our third trial. And how is Tristan?"
"He's getting there." Dante choked.
"Do not weep for me brother for I have lived far too long."
"That's not the point."
"Then you know I am gone already? I am just glad I got to see you one last time."
"So you forgive me?"
"I betrayed too. Every day that I was back here without you all I hated, I was jealous of myself in fact but also of you, not having any expectations upon you."
"Why did they bring you back?"
"To create the Keys of course. Apparently, that was my redemption."
"That would explain how you ended up being the First Keeper."
"Actually, I have your grandson to thank for that. He defied the Elders and made me his second. Definitely your blood!"
The two shared a pained grumble as Dante leant back against the wall, his bones in his ankle reminding him they were hindered.
"You are injured brother?" Felix croaked, concerned.
"I think I broke it on my way down." Dante replied talking literally in a way.
"How did you manage that?"
"Funny story actually."
"Isn't it always with you?"
The two chuckled again - clearly no time had been lost between them and they were as close as they had been in their glory days seeking trouble wherever they went. But those times were far from now and they shot back down memory lane as Felix began to choke, drops of blood leaking from his mouth. His brother’s pain worried Dante and he grabbed his wineskin from under his cloak, muttering a single word as he did so. In an instant, the chains that were holding Felix snapped and he slumped to the side as Dante caught him in his arms, his ankle burning as he lunged forward. He unstopped the lid on his wineskin and poured some of the mead into Felix's mouth. He knew it would probably have had a better effect if it were water he was using but there was none to hand. The choking subsided and Felix gasped in exhaustion.
"Bet it's been a while since you’ve experienced that taste?" Dante joked, talking of the mead.
"The first taste yes but the second is all too familiar now." Felix’s voice was sorrowful now, like it was scraping along the surface of his dry throat. "There is something I would like to say."
"Don't try too hard."
"I did try to make them bring you back, you and Balderick but perhaps not hard enough..."
"Don't worry about that now. Let's just get you out of here yes?"
"Worry not for me dear brother for we would never make it out alive together. Not with your crippled form."
"We can! It would be just like old times."
"What so you're going to sling me over your shoulder and limp all the way you came?"
"Actually my plan was to erect a port key but yours sounds better." Felix choked a laugh and Dante fed him some more of the mead.
"Alas, at last my light can be blown out and I can join our fellow brothers..." He gasped as though his last and final breaths were not too far away.
"Felix no please...we can make it..."
"Not...not this time. Please take care of the brothers we have left..."
His eyes slipped shut and his light was snuffed out. Dante felt his eyes spill over with tears before taking ahold of the wineskin and guzzled down the last few drops.
"Here's to you brother," He chanted as he heard footsteps echo on the metal floor outside as a heavy door was hefted open. "The one true First Keeper!"
Chapter 40 - Final Wishes
Even now I didn't know what compelled me to follow Dante to this place and this time. I felt helpless, unable to do anything as he sat and cradled his brother tears now leaking uncontrollable from his forlorn eyes. The First Keeper was dead and as was a man I had idolised in my early years as a Keeper, a man who in my eyes was the epitome of everything a Keeper should be; honourable, wise and just. Above all things he was a trusted friend and teacher and one of the only ones who knew of mine and my brothers’ true identity. I closed my eyes momentarily, whispering my respects to Felix. They say the dead can hear our thoughts and, in this moment, more than ever I hoped it were true.
As I opened them again, I saw a white sliver escape from Felix’s mouth to stand before me as a full-figured man. It was the First Keeper himself, stood before me all white and ghostly looking intently. He reached around his neck and removed some form of medallion, dropping it to the floor. I made a move for it instantly, acting on impulse once again. I don't know what compelled me to come to the stage I was at now but what I did know is there had to be a good reason for it which wasn't brilliant justification but sometimes, you just have to go with it.
My hand graced a cold rough surface as I reached out to grasp the medallion. I stared at the effigy of a dove in mid-flight holding a key within its beak. It was a sigil I had seen recently; the discarded emblem of the Keepers, the adopted crest of the Brothers of Dharsi. I gulped, looking up at Felix's ghost with worried eyes. His were calm though; cool and content as he nodded in reassurance. Perhaps this was never the sign of Dharsi but of something more that combined both Dharsi and Union. The only thing that did was the Brotherhood element...wait...there was another element. One of the Brothers of Dharsi was also chosen as Unity in the third generation. He was loyal to both sides, even to the end. He betrayed Dharsi by giving their names to the Keepers so that they could be banished after the rest of his brothers were killed. He'd left out eight of them though although their relation to him I did not know. Why the eight he chose, I never knew and I don't think anyone ever did. Unless Felix did...
A loud crash sounded and I was bought back to the current action as two guards burst through the door of the dungeon to see Dante fade away and soon the prison cell; even to me, was no more than a fading image.
You told me once that madness was a line, drawn by us to define our actions. But you knew it as a theory! You have never been near that line so to you the madness does not exist. But to me, it is oh so real and I am all too close to tipping over the edge back into a world I tried so hard to escape from. But even now I feel drawn back to it, the madness calling out to me over the ebb of the line. That's the thing about madness. It hangs over you like a shadow, waiting for the right moment to creep up on you and latch on once more. You think it's gone; you think you've escaped its clutches but just when you do it comes back stronger than ever. But we never become wiser to it and every time we are drawn back into the same old trap of falling into the darkness that is the madness. That call is always one I struggle to resist and now it is like you are pushing me towards it, pushing me over that line and into the clutches of a dark and bottomless pit filled with jagged claws that strike at you from the sides.
~~~
Eyes opening, I find myself lying on the ground facing up at a dark and starless sky, skeletal birds drifting aimlessly across it. I wipe away the ashes from my face, stumbling to my feet pitifully as I realise I am back in the world I loathe, I had returned to the madness. I sigh h
eavily, wondering why I have returned - there must be some reason for it. Looking up at the hill where the Watchtower used to stand, I see a light that shines brightly; so brightly in fact that if I were closer, it would probably blind the sight. It flickers a moment, like it is beckoning to me. Perhaps that is why I am here - perhaps someone has a message for me. I take a couple of steps forward, watching the shadows for movement as I fear the presence of the Faders nearing. The road to the hill is vast and open, a dead stream leading up to it like a road. Around me are others like me, hiding in the shadows of long dead trees, trying to avoid the dreadful gaze of the Faders. They prey upon my inmates and their screams rattle through my ears as their torture begins. Whilst they are distracted, I will make a break for it but first I take on last look around, seeing their faces once more; the many faces of my forgotten brothers. Give me a reason to stay now, to fight for them and not for you dear brother. Any reason will do, just a reason that means no more lives becoming privy to a constant onslaught of torture. There is no answer though, not even from the thunder that should accompany the lightning that flashes across the sky. I figure it is a sign, pointing me to the ever-glowing light up ahead. I check the distraction one last time and run, reaching the hill in no time at all and not stopping as I began to climb its steep and rocky slope.