The Chosen

by Kaitlin Himmelstoss

  The rat sniffed around and then quickly, just as fast as he ran down the stairs, he climbed back up and ran past the two warlocks that were speaking. Neither of them took any notice to the rat. After several more moments, the two departed and went their separate ways. The rat showed Isadore the path was clear.

  “Move quickly.” Isadore said as his eyes changed back to blue.

  They walked briskly around the corner and down the hall. They approached the stairs and proceeded down them. They reached two levels down and started down another hall. At the end of the hall were two large red doors. They were rounded at the top and connected together. Isadore approached the door and felt it with his hands. For a moment he closed his eyes and listened.

  “Well?” Gorm asked staring at him.

  Isadore ignored him and then opened his eyes.

  “Something is wrong.” he whispered.

  He looked up at Leif and Gorm. “This is too easy.”

  Just as he said this several warlocks came in from behind them. It was as if they had been waiting for them. Leif quickly drew his sword, and Gorm drew his ax. Isadore stood motionless, feeling angered, despite not showing it. The three stood ready for a fight.

  The warlocks stood silent. They wore long robes that were dark green with red trim. They had leather straps and belts and thick leather mantles that sat on their shoulders like heavy armor. One approached the group coming forward from behind the others. Isadore knew him immediately. “Theymond.” he whispered.

  The name was like sour, stuck to his tongue.

  “Isadore, welcome home. Dante has been expecting you.” the man said with a cold smirk.

  Leif and Gorm glanced at Isadore and then back at the group. They steadied their blades. Theymond looked over at them. “Isadore, be wise and tell your companions to sheath their weapons.”

  “Why don’t you come and try to take it warlock!” Gorm growled.

  Theymond was unmoved. He tilted his head.

  “Please, we do not condone violence within these walls. Sheath your weapons and we will bring you to the gathering hall. Your other friend is waiting for you there.”

  Leif and Gorm watched his face as a crooked smirk rose up on his face.

  “What are you talking about?” Leif shouted. “If you have Arman, you will release him to us.”

  Theymond laughed.

  “Arman is no longer useful to us.” Theymond said turning his attention back to Isadore.

  “What have you done?” Isadore asked in a low, threatening tone.

  “Come now, do not keep your friend waiting. I am sure she will be pleased to see you.”

  They all felt a sharp pain in their chest. She meant it was either Dagny or Revna. If only one was here, then the other might very well be dead. A thousand thoughts ran through Leif’s head. He became filled with rage and his grip tightened on his sword.

  “Leif, no.” Isadore said firmly.

  He could sense the emotional change in his friend. He knew they would stand no chance against this group. He could fight them off for a bit, but even he would become overwhelmed. “Lower your weapons.” he whispered.

  “You can’t be serious.” Leif whispered to him, not taking his eyes off Theymond.

  “Isadore is right, lower your weapons and we will not be forced to take action. The Malachite Order does not wish to display acts of violence, but if it is merited, we shall, and the fury we will unleash will be the last thing you ever experience.”

  Leif drew an angry breath and gritted his teeth. He sheathed his sword abruptly.

  “I will sheath my sword but you will not take it.” he hissed at them.

  Theymond drew a long breath and sighed. Gorm snorted as he placed his heavy ax back in his holder on his back. The warlocks parted, creating a pathway down the hall.

  “This way.” Theymond said unmoved.

  The three moved along and followed Theymond as the warlocks surrounded them on all sides. Leif could feel the energy between them. It almost made his stomach turn sour.

  They arrived after several bends and twists in the hall. It was another set of doors, only these were green. Theymond approached first and pushed them both open. Inside was a massive room. The celling stretched high up and only encircled the edges of the room, leaving the middle open to the night sky above.

  Around the room were many statues and old looking relics. There were several pews all facing the center of the room where several steps rose up to a platform. In the center of the platform was a massive slab of malachite. It’s striped bands of green were mesmerizing and it almost seemed to glow.

  A warlock stood next to it, as if waiting for the group to arrive. Isadore was not pleased. He wore similar clothes to that of the other warlocks, only his had intricate detailed stitching of runes and patterns on his robes, indicating he was important.

  “Isadore, we are pleased you have finally returned home. Your absence has been felt by many.”

  Isadore stood motionless with a cold glare at the man.

  “You are delusional Dante to think I am remaining here to join your ranks again.” Isadore said firmly.

  “Perhaps, but what if it meant watching the chosen come to be? You of all Isadore, were so invested and devoted to finding the chosen one to fulfill the prophesy. Now that we have her, will you be so blind to toss it all away again? Once you taste the power she can give, the power that will help us rise up to the second awakening and take control of what is rightfully ours, you will turn your back on that?” Dante said.

  “The prophesy is a farce. It is nothing more than a children’s fable. It is why I left. After all those years of being fed lies and deceiving information, I uncovered it all. The entire Order is a sham.”

  Isadore spoke sharply. It was rare to see any sort of emotion come from him. This meant he was truly passionate about what he was speaking. Dante narrowed his eyes.

  “We shall see how fake the prophesy is when we perform the ritual on the woman.” Dante said spitefully. “Lock them in a shield.” he snapped.

  Six warlocks immediately drew up their hands and threw a spell at the three. Even if Isadore reacted fast enough, he couldn’t over power six. They were surrounded by a transparent green bubble. Leif and Gorm looked up and around as the bubble encased them. Gorm started to extend his hand to touch it as it bounced gently around.

  “Do not do that.” Isadore said, hardly looking at Gorm.

  Gorm drew back his hand.

  “What is this?” he growled at Isadore.

  “It is a shield. We are trapped inside.” Isadore said, not taking his eyes off Dante.

  “And if we touch it?” Leif asked raising his eyebrows.

  “It will hurt.” Isadore said slightly annoyed.

  “Like, how much?” Gorm asked.

  Isadore turned his head slightly looking at him.

  “A lot.”

  Chapter 15

  Revna ached all over. She felt her head throbbing as she struggled to move. She was on a dirt floor and felt cold.

  “Miss, are you injured?” a sweet male voice whispered.

  Revna pulled her arms under her with all her strength and pushed off the floor, dragging her knees forward. She sat up on her knees drawing deep breaths as she oriented herself.

  She tried to remember what happened. They were in the cabin and they were attacked. She didn’t see his face, it was the assassin, the one with the warlock mask. He threw something at her. It struck her and exploded in an array of dust. She remembered the burning in her lungs and coughing until she passed out.

  She couldn’t even throw her dagger. She thought about the man. He was angry and kicked her as she coughed on the floor. She knew it was the same man she had stuck with her darts. By the third kick she was unconscious from the dust she inhaled. She remembered hearing Dagny screaming and fighting with him.

  Revna’s chest tightened. Had he killed her? It was her job to protect Dagny. The fear loomed in the back of her mind. If they had killed her wh
y was she here? What was this place? Revna rubbed her face and looked around.

  She was in a cell. It was nothing but stone walls surrounding her with a small metal door with bars on it in the corner. “Miss?” the voice whispered slightly nervous.

  Revna looked back into the corner. The shadows covered most of the cell but towards the celling were two small slits in the stone wall, allowing some light to trickle down from above. In the corner, hiding in the shadows was a man. He slowly approached Revna, unsure of who she was.

  Revna stood up and brushed herself off and faced him.

  “Where am I” she asked with authority.

  The man came out of the shadows and she could see his face. She knew immediately who he was. His blond hair and soft blue eyes were identical to Dagny’s. He was just as handsome and appeared to be concerned with Revna’s wellbeing. “Arman?” she whispered stunned.

  The man’s eyes grew in size and he took a step back.

  “How…” he whispered.

  “Arman, my name is Revna, I work for the Argent Brotherhood. Your sister, Dagny, hired us to find and rescue you.”

  Arman stood a moment speechless.

  “Dagny?” he asked slightly surprised.

  “Yes, she is very worried about you.”

  Revna gave him a reassuring smile.

  “I appreciate the valiant effort Revna, however, it would appear that we are now both in need of rescuing.”

  Revna gave a slight laugh. He had the same fighting spirit as Dagny.

  “Arman, you will soon learn that Revna Castwell does not need rescuing.”

  She went over to the door and looked at the lock. Arman was intrigued. Revna was fierce and beautiful. He saw when they brought her in all the daggers they had taken from her. She was a fighter.

  “You think you can pick it?” he asked hopeful.

  “I can pick any lock. That is the easy part, it’s getting out of here that will be difficult.”

  “They took your weapons. I can fight with a sword; I have been properly trained but I doubt I will be of any use. I have never fought anyone in a battle.” Arman said honestly.

  Revna glanced at him and nodded.

  “Fear not Arman, they may have thought they took all my weapons but the truth is, they only took the ones they could see. Warlocks are not known for their understanding of basic sword skills.”

  She smiled as she pulled out several darts and throwing blades, hidden within her leather jacket. Arman gave a crooked smile. Revna looked back at the lock and continued to fiddle with it using some tools she kept hidden the heel of her boot. “Do you know why they took you?”

  Arman glanced to the floor.

  “At first no. I was taken from my bed while I was asleep. I don’t remember anything. Just a tall man who’s face I couldn’t quite see. He attacked me and threw something at me and I passed out.”

  “The warlock mask.” Revna said disappointed.

  “Warlock mask?”

  “Yes, it is a spy that works for The Order. We don’t know his identity but refer to him as the warlock mask, since he has acquired one and now wears it. I have encountered the mask before, first when he tried to kill your sister and second, when he captured me and brought me here.”

  “Is my sister in danger?” Arman asked concerned.

  Revna drew a breath.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t believe the man with the mask is a warlock, he did not display any powers or abilities, but I think he is working for them. He tried to kill Dagny when we were first catching your trail, but if he was planning to kill her this second time, I do not think he would have knocked me out and brought me here. He would have just killed us both.”

  Arman would have to be satisfied with that. He hoped nothing had happened to his sister. He missed her greatly.

  “They brought me here because they said I was the chosen, a sort of prophesy to casters. They tortured me with magic, trying to get me to admit I had casting abilities, but I don’t. Finally, they performed a ritual on me and it confirmed that I did not have any powers like they suspected. I thought they were going to kill me. Their leader, Dante, he was angry. He had them bring me here and this is where I have been since.”

  “It is Dagny they are after.” Revna said suddenly.

  Arman looked at her concerned, his brows were scrunched together tightly as he processed what was happening. “They took the wrong twin. How could Isadore not have seen that?”

  “Isadore?” Arman asked.

  “Yes, my companions are here, somewhere. We must get out and find them and find your sister. They may be in great danger.”

  Revna gave the lock a few more clicks until the door released. The rusted hinges moaned as she pushed the door open. The hall it opened into was empty. The green torches danced unnaturally, casting their unsettling green haze across the stone walls and floor.

  Revna moved several of her remaining weapons to new locations for easy access. She wasn’t sure what they would face, but she needed to be ready. “Stay close.” she whispered as the two started down the long hall.

  Leif and Gorm were staring at the strange bubble that engulfed them. It appeared so fragile and vulnerable that one poke from their blades would cause it to shatter. The six warlocks that stood around them continued holding their hands up to maintain the shield. They needed to keep their concentration on that alone.

  Dante stood up on the platform before the malachite slab. From another room two warlocks dragged in Dagny. She was terrified and fighting with them. When she looked around the room and saw Leif, Gorm and Isadore she called out to them. Leif was furious. He screamed her name and ran to the edge of the shield.

  “Leif, don’t!” Isadore warned again.

  Leif glanced back at him a moment and then looked back at Dagny. He felt rage building inside him.

  “To hell with this!” Gorm shouted, sharing in Leif’s inner rage.

  The massive Vanguardian charged the shield with his ax drawn. Isadore’s plea to halt was drowned out by Gorm’s battle cry as he swung down at the shield. In a forceful shock, the shield bit back and sent an electrical current of energy running up the ax and through Gorm. He felt as if his blood was boiling as it ripped throughout his body.

  Gorm fell back to the ground in a heavy thud. He wasn’t moving. Leif ran to him.

  “Gorm, can you hear me?” he shouted as he shook him.

  Gorm let out a painful wheezing sound.

  “Izzy…was right…that…hurt…” he whispered out in a painful sentence.

  Leif looked up at Isadore, who drew a long unmoving breath.

  “We have to do something.” he whispered to him.

  “I know.” Isadore whispered.

  It was then that Leif saw Isadore’s eyes were black. He was already plotting something.

  Dagny was pulled up to the platform before the malachite slab. Dante approached her.

  “Lady Marfell, we have waited very long for your arrival. You are the start of the second awaking of the Malachite Order. Your abilities and power will fuel our purpose. You will lead us into the new era of domination.”

  Dagny yanked her arms, but the two warlocks held her firmly. She was gasping, trying to catch her breath. She was staring at Dante. His dark hair and sinister goatee amplified his bright blue eyes. His gaze cut through her driving fear with it.

  “You are mistaken, I am not a caster.” she blurted out, although deep inside, she feared she was.

  “The ritual will awaken your abilities. You will feel your power manifest itself and the malachite stone will ensure your loyalty to us.” Dante said firmly.

  It was the power of the stone that would influence her. It would be the power The Order would have over her to ensure she was their weapon. “Put her on the stone.” he ordered.

  The two warlocks dragged her over as she fought them. They shoved her back onto the stone and held her down to it. She kicked her feet and pushed them to break free, but they slid across the smoo
th surface of the rock, giving her no leverage.

  Dante came over and pressed his hand down on her chest over her heart. He could feel her breaths, deep, gasping with panic and fear. She was so afraid; she didn’t know what they were doing or what was going to happen.

  “Please.” she whispered pleading to him.

  Dante looked down at her.

  “You are the chosen, you will rise with great power within our ranks. Trust in malachite.” he whispered.