by Lucas Hault
He was petrified, while blood ran cold in his veins. His jaw dropped into a silent scream of horror, and he returned to his feet, throwing himself towards the huge gateway; but to his shock, found it sealed. The lock that had been shot broken by his friend some moments ago, was once again holding the gate. Edd had been victimized and terrorised, shuddering in dreadfulness and deformity. A great fear began to come upon him as his sweaty palms hurriedly rummaged his pocket, pulling out the revolver. His quavering hands found it difficult to grasp the weapon at once, but he had to be through—for the sake of his mortal life, he had to do it. He somehow succeded, though his body seemed to be paralyzed with trepidation. He quickly aimed at the point and took his shot. But unfortunately, he missed.
It was hard to aim with his numb hands that shook involuntarily with fear and pain. He immediately tried with the other one, but lo! He missed.
He once turned around to look at the dreaded figures getting close. Blood pumped rapidly within his body as he took a few other shots. The third, fourth, and fifth, but nothing helped, until the sixth one which fortunately hit the target.
The lock dropped down to the ground and gates opened.
He sprinted out of the gate, dashing towards the high slope and ascending it as quickly as possible. Another thunderbolt followed, devouring the remaining life in him. The sound seemed to have blown up the lights, leaving the place in pitch-blackness. Nothing was conspicuous to his eyes, except the enormous Cristal Barrier standing like a firm mountain.
He ran across the necropolis, throwing his legs as fast as he could, before it tumbled, and he thrashed down to the ground. His foot had slipped upon the moist soil and the fall had hurt his elbow. He groaned in pain, grabbing his elbow with the other hand, while tears flowed down his eyes.
He found himself before some graves, which were as fresh as the winds. He dragged himself closer towards the gravestone, bringing his watery eyes near the scribbling.
‘Allan Will’ read the one, while ‘Rickard Jones’ said the other. His strength seemed to have left him, and he was incapable of action or movement, hardly even of thought. He was emasculated and eviscerated, holding himself to his knees and crying out in paroxysm of grief and terror, so loud that his soul looked to have poured out through his mouth. It was then, when the man noticed a third grave—dug and empty. ‘Edd Green’ read the gravestone.
This numbed his senses, tearing out his heart with sudden mutilation. There was something around the dark that annihilated his soul, something like the air that could not be seen but its presence could never be denied either. The scene struck him with a spasm of pain and blurred his eyes with tears, the tears of adversity and eradication. He tried to stagger to his feet, but was still ghastly pale and trembling in every limb. He somehow pulled himself back to his feet, in a final gasp to flee away, but then, within an instant, a loud wail followed—so abrupt and gruesome that it chilled his entire body. It was so asperous and unbearable that it began to dull his senses.
He placed his hands on his ears, pressing it as hard as he could, but nothing worked. The wail got louder and louder every moment, with each moment being more crucifying than the one before. It damaged his eardrums, causing it to bleed.
His ears and nose had begun to pour out blood, and he slowly lost his consciousness. Everything was dull before his eyes. It once appeared that that same woman was before him, the one in red gown. However, he could never be sure as only the colour of the gown flashed before his eyes, all other thing remained dazzled.
The wail was perennial, but now it could lay no affect on him. Edd could feel no pain or fear, as it was all over, and he, just like a rotten fruit from a tree, dropped down lifeless into his grave.
The hurried steps climbed the remaining stairs, leading to the large corridor that ended up at Borkan’s door. He was finally there, William Hayes, a man average in height, strongly built, sallow complexion, black hair, a little bald in the centre, black side-whiskers and moustache; dressed in black frock-coat faced with silk, black waistcoat, and grey tweed trousers, with brown gaiters over elastic-sided boots. He was the messenger of Lord Elias Solomon Rayne, the Governor General of Townslane. He was incharge of the external affairs and was aware of every events taking place around the city or the places nearby. It was his job, and the man was perfected in it.
William sighed, exhaling the tiredness within, as he knocked on the door. It took a few moments before it opened, and there he was, Borkan Solomon Rayne, the son of Lord Elias Rayne and Rebecca Skye. He was neatly clad in a chocolate brown tweed suit, and waistcoat, with a dark grey tie, and a close-fitting hat. The rich leather boot that clasped his ankles were thickly outlined with hide. A young blood of twenty-one, Borkan had the resemblance of both his parents. He was tall and well built, with a strong neck, dark-haired and a neatly trimmed beard, just like that of his father. While on the mother’s affinity, he was hazel-eyed, slim-faced, with a beautiful turned-up nose, and slim brows. His complexion was similar to his parents—white and glowing, and a charming smile just like his beloved mother, Rebecca. The young man had an irresistible personality and was considered to be extremely handsome by all. He was a figure that any girl or woman could ever have imagined, with a fascinating face that made them weak at their knees. His prominent jaw curved gracefully around, and the strength of his neck showed in the twining cords of muscle that shaped his entire body; strong arms, bold thighs and calves, and a firm chest. Every other man was pale in his comparison, and his single sight was enough to swoon both women and men, no matter whatsoever their sexual preference might be. His parents were flooded with marriage proposals for their son from all over their land, but he wasn’t in a will for marriage, not that early at least.
“Your parents await you down in the gardens”, said William, gazing at the beautiful sunlight entering through the large window in his chamber, reflecting on the shiny surface of the polished marble floor.
“Is everything alright?” he asked, dissertating on the grim on the round face before him. It was something unusual, something distressing. Borkan had always loved the humorous nature of the man before him. Sternness was never his concern, not until it was something lurid.
William said nothing, simply shook his head. That itself was enough to ratify the unsettling situation. He, without any further delay, began to follow the messenger.
“What exactly is the matter?” he asked, proceeding towards the stairway.
William sighed. “Our guards in the borders have discovered something”.
“Discovered what?”
William was in such evident distress that he tried to comfort him, but without effect. The messenger looked strangely at him for an instant, and his voice sank almost to a whisper as he answered. “It’s too barbaric to explain!”
This struck a chill in his heart. He had never heard William speak in such manner before. It was truly abominable, something beyond any possible imagination. It would never have bothered him if it was from Owen Green, who was just like his friend. But the case was just the opposite for William Hayes. The man had a careful choice of words, and every single word out of his mouth was simply impossible to neglect. This particular thing pricked his mind, causing a chilling sensation run down his spine.
“What exactly is all this about?” he asked, his suspicious eyes locked with the man.
William shook his head, with his narrowed eyes avoiding contact. “You will know once we are in the Forests of Townslane”.
Borkan followed him down the stairway and into the wide corridor that had its expensive plastered walls covered in beautiful paintings, and finally into the shaft that led out to the gardens.
The day was bright, with sweet pleasant sunlight casting upon the beautiful Palace of Townslane. The Palace in the vice-capital was an absolute beauty itself. It was a spherical structure, with six tall towers surrounding it all over. The giant towers were connected to the main Palace through the long corridors, which had the beautiful gardens beside
them. The shaft that connected the towers to the main palace structure, divided the garden into six equal parts.
The gardens and towers were further surrounded by a high circular wall. There was a big royal gate at the front, which was the only way to enter or exit the magnificent Palace of Townslane.
Borkan walked beside the messenger through the long passage, and finally into one of the gardens where he found Owen, along with four of the guards, dressed in their dark green attires with round armoured helmets, standing before his parents. His mother, Rebecca Rayne, was a very pretty brunette in her early forties, hazel-eyed, and white in complexion, and had attracted admirers who had ever visited their Palace. She had a slate-coloured, broad-brimmed straw hat, with a feather of a brickish red. Her jacket that covered half of her richly decorated purple gown was black, with black beads sewn upon it, and a fringe of fancy ornaments. There was a little pink plush at the neck and sleeves of her dress, while the gloves that she wore were greyish. Beside her stood his father, Lord Elias Solomon Rayne, a man known for his dignity and honour. He was a dark-haired, broad-shouldered man in his mid forties, with high cheekbones and deep grey eyes. He was slender and toned, and had a stance that spoke of his eminence. Heavy bands of dark curly fleece were slashed across the sleeves and fronts of his double-breasted coat, while the deep blue cloak which was thrown over his shoulders was lined with flame-coloured silk and secured at the neck with a brooch which consisted of a single flaming beryl. Boots extended halfway up his calves, and were trimmed at the tops with rich brown fur.
Rebecca originally belonged to Spion, a nation situated next to Syneria. It laid right beside North-Eastern Syneria, a sovereign state that was once a part of Syneria, but had separated following the War of Syneria. Rebecca was the daughter of Darren Skye, a nobleman in the city of Bronn in Spion. She had been married to Elias right after the war, during his visit, along with the President to Spion, where the two fell for each other in their very first encounter. Elias and Rebecca were married for twenty-three years and the couple had four children—three sons and a daughter. Borkan was the eldest, followed by Barak. Their daughter Farrah came in the third place, while Meshach was the youngest. They were the followers of the Ancient Religion, which was the second dominant religion following Rasphorism all over the three continents.
The couple’s daughter, Farrah Solomon Rayne, was married to Silas Hocaine, the son of Joshua and Diana Hocaine. Joshua Hocaine was the cousin of Lord Elias Solomon Rayne, and he along with his family resided in Balin, a beautiful city located on the Hills of Syneria. Joshua and Diana also had a beautiful daughter, Cynthia Hocaine, who had been married to Barak Solomon Rayne, the second son of Elias and Rebecca. Both these weddings took place on the very same night, which was a memorable one for all. Elias and Rebecca had the initial intention to wed Cynthia to their eldest son, but due to his unwillingness for any marriage, she had been taken by the second one.
“Father! Mother!” called Borkan, stepping into the garden through the gravel steps and walking right beside them. The garden was a large stretch of semi-circular lawn with a path around it. There was a central bed of shrubs, trimmed grasses, bright green plants, and blooming flowers whose fragrance suffused the entire place. The garden stretched around the entire Palace, winding like a green River through the structure, being cut by the long corridors that ran from the towers to the main structure. It was beautiful, simply mesmeric—so charismatic that one could spend all his time under the sunlight gazing at it.
Borkan stood beside his parents, only to discover an utter silence that dominated a place like such. The features across all the faces were dull, while the furrows in his father’s forehead and a pitied look on the face of his mother left him in daze astonishment. He felt slightly sick in nerves and his hands were twitchy and trembling. The tension in the atmosphere troubled him. He saw the stunned face of Owen Green, a man in his late twenties or perhaps early thirties, who was one of the most trusted officials of his father. Owen was taller than the guards beside him, and stronger as well, with bulging muscles and a pair of big brown eyes. Dressed in a dark brown waistcoat over his woollen shirtings, with faded narrow pant that covered the back of his leather shoes, Owen was as dark as pitch, but his hulky corpus made him arrestive. He resembled the look of a man who was depressed and shattered from within, and yet managed to hold his emotions out of some strong resolution. Owen was traumatized, covering himself in a spurious blanket, pretending to be normal from outside. But the actual man behind it was no secret to Borkan or his parents.
Lord Elias Rayne nodded, and Owen along with the guards left.
“What exactly is wrong with Owen?” he asked his father.
“A young commander from Hustlecitis has gone missing, along with two others. And the third one happens to be his brother. The guards had rung in the Capital and were speaking of their clever strategy to get past the boundaries of the forbidden place. The authority has never spoken to those men about anything, and now it has been a couple of days but no word of them”.
It was crushing, also staggering, too much to bear for a soul like Owen, who had only a brother that was left. Borkan, just like his parents, was no stranger to the situation and knew what would follow next, which best described the helplessness of Owen Green.
“Remember the news of the other one gone missing a long time ago?” began Rebecca. “It was regarding some Simon Conred”. She didn’t properly remember the name, simply taking an easy guess, which fortunately stood correct.
Elias nodded. “Simon Conred was a capable man who had a good relation with the President. He was once a General here in Townslane, before being appointed as a high official in Hustlecitis”.
“And the other one, who along with Simon had been declared missing? asked Borkan. The wretched foregone was nothing new to him, but his reminiscence was limited to his mother’s accomplishment.
“Petrus Sanclave!” Elias sighed, looking stern and frazzled. “The missing reports are increasing day by day, and the President himself is looking into the subject resolutely. It is never to be neglected, and this is the sole reason why Owen is wanted in Hustlecitis”.
Hustlecitis was the Capital of Syneria. It was a royal city located by the banks of the River of Zorang. The city was extremely beautiful and magnificent, and was a hundred times bigger than Townslane, both in area and population. The city was the residence of noblemen, high-class traders and merchants, priests and priestesses, and people with high living standards.
The President, Marven Fraser had decreed his Governor’s presence in the Capital, and Elias had to leave as per the command, along with the brother of the accused.
“Does it really needs to be done, honey?” she asked. She could neither figure out the actual intendment nor the fate of poor Owen Green.
“His brother broke the law, Rebecca”, he replied abruptly, sounding bold and specific. “There is a reason why that place is strictly prohibited”.
“And I think everyone has the right to know it”. She said it with quite an offence, standing by the point that the law should be imposed with proper supporting reasons. Only then could it be possible for anyone to follow.
“Everyone does know it”, began Elias. “Everyone knows about the place, but not everyone believes. The believers will believe it, while the disbelievers will continue to deny it, no matter whatsoever is done”.
He was absolutely clear and true, and she knew this deep within herself.
“So what do you think awaits Owen?” Rebecca was known for her caring nature. She had always been praised for the love and care that she possessed for her family, and Owen was no different. He had lost his parents a long time ago, and only had a brother that remained. It was Elias and Rebecca who had looked after the two, and that was the reason why Owen served them wholeheartedly.
“I know absolutely nothing. But one thing I can assure is that it won’t be a torment, or else it would have been me carrying it out by the President’s command”.
That was absolutely true, as Elias Rayne was his most trusted man, who was supposed to be his closest friend as well. They had known each other right from the very beginning, before Lord Fraser was even elected as the President. They had fought numerous wars beside each other and had travelled to various places around the world together. The President had also sung a song for Elias and Rebecca on their wedding, which everyone still found it hard to believe.
“What about our guards in the borders?” remembered Borkan. The thing had disturbed him all the while, right from the moment it had been mentioned by the messenger. “William says it’s too graceless to explain”.
His parents did not speak. Their features were pale just like his own, and he could conceive the similar look of concern over their faces.
A roofed car, surrounded by disclosed automobiles, moved across the narrow gravel path that ended within the large Forests of Townslane. A deathly silence lay upon the place, which made Borkan’s nerves tingle. William’s words still echoed within his head, and now this disturbing silence around the place was enough to torture his senses.
“My Lord!” said one of the guards, as the car stopped, and out came Lord Elias Rayne, followed by Borkan. They had just stopped by the borders, heavily fortified with various guards, who stood with their heads bent low in his honour. Dressed in dark green attires, with round helmets and dark leather boots, the guards—valiant and sturdy, were carried away by a strained articulation which perhaps hung over them by the sight of their discovery.
“Where is it?” asked Elias hurriedly. Borkan stood next to his father, while Owen remained behind the two.
“This way, My Lord!” said one of the guards leading them through. Owen walked behind them, accompanied by William Hayes and some other officials. The sound of their heavy footsteps conquered the woods.