The Shadow of Death

by Timothy Smith

  Once Theo got close enough, the others just expectantly stared at him and his armored right arm, hoping for some kind of explanation. They falsely thought he would feel compelled to tell them with the unsettling amount of stares, and prolonged silence they provided, but they forgot who they were dealing with. Once it became clear that Theo wasn't going to say anything, Ira felt inclined to ask the questions on everyone’s mind.

  Ira: "Theo, how long have you had that shoulder armor, and gauntlet? And where’d you get it?" And trying to hide the fact that he was hoping someone would ask, he casually answered.

  Theo: "I just finished making it this week." He said while barely displaying the gauntlet.

  From the beaten-up texture of the armor, it was certainly believable that it was made by a novice, but nonetheless the others were all very impressed.

  Cherise: "Wow! That's amazing, Theo! How did you find the time?" To which Theo gave a slight contemplative look for a moment before just shrugging.

  Not much of an answer to say the least, but she had already fully expected that he wouldn't say much if anything on the matter anyway. It was the usual for him, not that Cherise minded though. Still, she couldn’t help but be quite impressed at what Theo had managed to accomplish seemingly out of the blue, in his own imposed limited free time he had.

  Just now realizing he hadn't yet had the chance to brag about his katana’s, Ira unsheathed one of his prized blades. Excitedly, he then started displaying a sword in front of the others.

  Ira: "Have a look at what the old man gave me. He said it was passed down to him from his mentor from the Toride clan, Karabe. They’re called the Black Fangs of Ishida." And in an effort to impress Cherise specifically, Ira glanced at the old man to prove his point before speaking further.

  Ira: "The ore used to make these, one of a kind, blades came from a shooting star." Seeing how Ira was bragging about the gift he gave him, Keller felt reluctant to correct the half-truth claim he made.

  Like everyone else there, Cherise was already impressed by the uniqueness of the blades appearance alone. But when Ira had finished saying it was a falling star, Cherise went wide eyed in genuine astonishment, before telling him how impressed she was. As she was looking at Ira's katana’s, she noticed something.

  Cherise: "I wonder if Keller’s been waiting to give you these sword’s since the day we arrived." Now surprised himself, Ira hadn't even considered that possibility as both him and the others looked back at Keller.

  Giving another fake coughing fit, Keller was deliberately averting his gaze. Ira couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle after seeing him. The old man was simply being far too obvious.

  Several minutes passed, so the two could have decent time to appreciate one another’s new weapons’, before Keller stepped forward. Glancing at both Theo and Ira briefly, the old man offered the two some parting words before their trial.

  Keller: "This is it! I suggest you both make adequate preparations for the journey ahead of yourselves. It won't be easy, and this challenge will likely take you several days outside of the traveling time. So keep that in mind when you prepare." He said his warning in a stern voice before looking at Obi.

  Keller: "Oh and Obi, for their sakes, do try to take this task seriously." Such a lack of faith would have seemed unwarranted if Obi hadn't immediately responded so lightheartedly, laughing just before he replied back.

  Obi: “I know you don't mean that, old man!" And walking to Keller's side, Obi reached over his shoulder to pull him closer.

  Obi: “You know I won't let you down. After all the years we've known each other, we're practically family!" His overly casual demeanor wasn’t very reassuring for the old man, who looked back with annoyance.

  Keller: "How... unfortunate for me."

  The grumpy old man pretended he didn’t care, only encouraged Obi's laughter. Giving Keller a slap on the back, he exclaimed.

  Obi: "See, right there! You'd only say that because you know it's not true. Proving my point that we’re pretty much like family. In fact, I consider you basically like another grandpa!" Irritated and embarrassed, Keller let out a long grunting sound.

  Keller: "Please don't say that…" Which only encouraged Obi’s continued laughing.

  The stubborn old man didn't mean much of what he was saying, and the others who were watching couldn't help but laugh themselves at the ridiculous antics of the two. Flustered, Keller had enough of it. Puffing his chest up, the old man quickly made off with the others who came with him shortly behind. With his back turned, the old man made sure to get the last word in, as he exclaimed aloud.

  Keller: "Knowing you knuckleheads, you'll probably come back missing a limb or two! Or worse! You might actually bring me back a rabbit’s skin!"

  As he continued storming off, the four couldn’t help but laugh at the grumpy old man’s comment, knowing he didn’t mean any of it. And after Keller and his entourage had completely left, Obi looked at the three and restated what the old man said.

  Obi: "It's about time you three got yourselves suited up. I already had a feeling Keller would choose me as the Order's representative on your trial, so I’ve already fully prepared. I'll be here waiting for when you when you’re all done. But don't keep me waiting too long, if we hurry, we can make it down the pass to the forest floor before nightfall." The thought of it made him reminisce.

  Obi: “All this talk brings me back. You kids were barely at the Order before I took my own trials.” As Obi shook his head in disappointment the longer he thought on it, Cherise couldn’t help but find something funny.

  Even though you weren’t a full-fledged member of the Order when we arrived, that sure didn’t stop you from acting like it. We didn’t find out for years!

  Before the three could leave, Obi reminded himself to state one last thing.

  Obi: "Oh, and remember what Keller said. This trial will likely last a few days so prepare properly." He said as they barely started heading out to their own quarters, with Ira confidently replying.

  Ira: "Don't need to worry about that, Obi. Before tonight, we'll be done and back in time to sleep in our own beds!"

  Obi: "HAH! I like the idea of that! The way I see it, the sooner we're done with the trials the better."

  ────────

  The three then left Obi to make their preparations before making their return back to the center of the courtyard. But before they were reunited with Obi, a familiar voice yelled out towards them.

  Oland: "Look what we have here!"

  Oh no, not him again…

  Cherise didn’t need to see the faint shadowy specter on Oland’s back to know he was bringing trouble with him. Since the time he was a boy speaking out against them being allowed to stay, Oland had been a constant nuisance to their small group. Even now as a young man, Oland kept his obnoxious noble pride. He made sure to keep a meticulously clean cut hair associated with Valenor higher nobility, while still sporting the same snobbish grin he did all those years ago.

  As he was coming closer, Cherise couldn’t help but look at Oland with an annoyance, seeing that he was followed by a few others in the Order of like mind to his own. She was also slightly unnerved to see Oland’s shadowed fiend rapidly grow into its full form, matching its host appears, as it began whispering into his ears. Upon seeing the shadowed figure’s fully formed presence, Cherise was justifiably warier of Oland's presence. And as Oland finally walked close enough to be heard well enough to speak normally, he proceeded to mock them.

  Oland: "They think they're finally going to become one us, just because they're taking the trials. I guess these peasants still don't have a clue... There's simply no room at the Order for low-born filth." He taunted, garnering some laughs from his entourage.

  And thoroughly inspecting Cherise with a piggish grin, he shrugged.

  Oland: “For the life of me, I don’t know why you bother hanging out with these two. They have no culture, and they lack any influence in the world. Wouldn’t
you rather spend your time with someone more civilized?”

  It was a not so subtle attempt at flirting, which Cherise forced herself from not appearing disgusted at. The noble may have been obnoxious, and without shame, but he wasn’t blind. Before Cherise could get a word in, Ira grinned before taunting Oland back.

  Ira: "What a sad disgrace of a so called noble you are. Insulting a lady moments before flirting with her?!” He said knowing full well, the insults weren’t directed towards her.

  Ira: “I’ll be back with my prize before nightfall! Which makes me curious how long it must’ve taken you.” Not noticing that Cherise was gesturing for him to stop, he continued his taunts.

  Always, this always happens! It’s so frustrating!

  Ira: “Besides, we all know why you're still holding a grudge. And who can blame you really? With our only task here to defend the orb in combat, you just can't stand the fact that you keep getting bested by us in sparring matches, time, and time again. Must be humiliating really, to be constantly put in your place like that by the newest recruits."

  Over the years, Ira and Oland had become masters at getting under each other’s skin. And after that snide remark, today was certainly no exception. Cherise couldn’t help but frown, thinking she knew where this was going, before she caught wind of Oland’s infuriated reaction.

  Cherise: "Come on, you two. There’s no reason you-" Her words were cut off short by Oland’s burst of rage, as he pointed his finger accusingly at Ira.

  Oland: "You filthy commoner! You are nothing but a disgrace to the Order!"

  To the surprise of everyone who looked on, still in his hot rage, Oland started drawing his blade from his hilt. But before he could fully draw his weapon, Ira had closed in the distance between them. Before Oland could react fully to Ira's advance, it was too late. Ira held the pointed edge of one of his black fangs right at Oland’s throat, almost touching it. With his glaring eyes peering right back into Oland's own, he spoke in a deadly serious voice.

  Ira: "You should already know by now not to challenge me."

  I can’t believe it went that far! They’ve had plenty of fights before, but for Oland to start drawing his weapon?

  The noble’s once smug grin was now completely replaced by that of a nervous but angry gnashing of teeth. Getting a grasp of the situation he was in, Oland restrained himself to the best of his abilities, which wasn't saying much as Ira’s blade was still at his throat when he spoke back in disgust.

  Oland: "Keller must've gone senile when he decided to allow you three to stay here. One day you’ll learn your place!" He spitefully said before sheathing his sword.

  In response, only after making sure Oland had lifted his hands off his sword’s hilt, Ira drew back his own blade as well. Oland let out a quick frustrated grunting sound before he started leaving. Followed shortly by his entourage, he said his parting remarks.

  Oland: "It would be a real shame if either of you were to be killed during your trial! A reeaal shame!" He said as he took his leave, insinuating the last few words to the laugher of the group around him.

  Still as unpleasant as ever, I see…

  After they were well and gone, the momentary silence was surprisingly broken, by Theo no less, who blurted out.

  Theo: "What an ass!" He said to no disagreement to the others, but to the slight disappointment of Cherise.

  It’s already been ten years now. I thought our differences would’ve been smoothed over after all this time. But that! I wouldn’t have dreamed that something like that spectacle would ever happen.

  From a distance, Obi had noticed all that had just transpired, but he remained silent during the whole ordeal. Surprised how far it was taken this time, he knew that the feelings of that troublesome group weren’t isolated among them alone in the Order’s ranks. When he first brought the three to the Order, he already had a feeling that they would likely have to live with these hardships during the first years here. But even still, Obi sincerely believed they would’ve been more accepted as time passed, but Ira and Theo’s pride have done their fair share in preventing that from occurring quite yet. Even though plans didn’t work out as Obi would’ve liked, still at the time when he first saw the kids, it seemed to be a far more obvious choice to let the three stay than to have left them to fend for themselves.

  Seeing that Oland and the others who were with him leave, Obi let out a frustrated sigh before jogging to the three.

  Obi: "Don't let what he said bother you. It's nothing you all haven't heard before. So next time, don’t let him goad you into an argument that could escalate into an outright duel." He said giving a playful grin to Ira, to make light of the situation.

  You tell him, Obi!

  Obi: “Look at it on the bright side. Now's a perfect opportunity to show everyone here at the Order, you deserve to be here. I've seen what you're both capable of first hand, and I know you’ll make me proud."

  After seeing the smiling expression from them, he continued to speak in high spirits.

  Obi: "Alright you kids, I say it's about time we head off. Let's show them what you can do!"

  Now being reminded of another reason to perform well, they all had high hopes, as they set out on their journey. And as the four headed out on their trials, they were completely unaware that to the Far East, world altering events were unfolding.

  CHAPTER 15 – THE RED SANDS

  In the desert sands of the far reaches of the Ehya to the east, a great gathering of people, the likes of which the world had never seen before, was underway in the Aelaan capital. The scorching sun blared down on this corner of the known world, amplifying the contrast of this oasis in the dessert. The scorched earth and endless dunes of red sands encompassed the vast surroundings of this great crimson city, built of tanned and reddish hue stone. At the center of the great city, the masses were gathered. Hundreds of thousands of Aelaan civilians all stood by waiting patiently, with millions more outside of the great open corridors. The great multitude that could be fit inside the corridors were surrounded by pyramid like structures on all sides, with the palace being the greatest structure among them all.

  Like a lone mountain rising upward towards the sky, the Aelaan palace towered above the rest of the structures, and anything else within its sight. The palace’s magnitude appeared so great, that it seemed as if it could be seen from nearly every corner of the western expanse. In front of the palace and facing the open corridor, was a platform that stood several hundred feet high, seemingly hovering above the people below.

  Inside the palace walls was Razkaul. Since the time of his assault on Cherise’s village, he was forever blinded in one eye, with a permanent scar reaching all the way from his eye, and through his ear. In one of the more ceremonious palace rooms, he anxiously waited. Keeping nearly perfectly still as he did so, Razkaul was not the only one present to be made to stand idly by. The only other person in the room besides him was none other than the Aelaan Emperor himself, Mesolum. With his only remaining eye, Razkaul noticed the Emperor started walking right up to him.

  The Emperor's attire was that of a red turban encircled in a golden crown, and a fine red robe of intricate designs, with webbings of gold covering all the clothe he wore. Now standing in front of Razkaul to ensure he had his attention, the Emperor bluntly stated his mind.

  Mesolum: "What are you so anxious for? All you'll need to do is repeat the orders the Prophet receives from the gods’." He said with the deliberate intention to insult.

  He sneered at his Emperor before glancing around to ensure that no one else was present. Upon seeing that they were indeed alone, Razkaul glared back before speaking brazenly to his Emperor.

  Razkaul: "You forget your place. The will of the gods are not to be taken lightly! What would the people think if they were to find out their Emperor takes such matters in such a contemptuous manner?" Razkaul said, taunting Mesolum to challenge his claim.

  The Emperor returned Razkaul’s sharp glare, and before being able t
o get a word in, he noticed the large doors to the room were slowly opening. Not letting the moment slip by, under hushed breath, the Emperor leaned in closer to speak with a sharp tone.

  Mesolum: "You should be wary of your aspirations, Razkaul. I know how high you seek to climb, but greater men than you have fallen short of glory."

  Razkaul perceived the Emperor’s words as a direct threat, and through clenched teeth he held his tongue, after seeing an elderly man was entering the room from the once closed doors.

  In their quest for power, Razkaul and the Emperor have always been at odds. Striving for whatever influence they could muster to gain the upper hand on one another. Each of their claims for power was not entirely self-serving, for they both had different goals for what they believed the Empire should aspire to be. Both men were restrained, never fully being capable of opposing each other openly out in the public’s eye. The looming possibility of grave retaliation was ever present, should they overestimate their strength, whether it be from the power of the throne, or from the Aelaans fear of their gods'.

  The elderly man that was entering the room was the Prophet of the gods the Emperor had just earlier spoken of. He was a decrepit old man, and by the looks of it, was on the verge of death. He wore a partial robe on the lower half of his body, and every visible inch of his skin was covered in ritualistic tattoos. A see through and highly decorated clothe veil covered his face, and over his entire body was interwoven laces of gold.

  With the doors being closed behind him by his attendants, the Prophet waved Razkaul over towards him. In accordance with their customs, the Emperor gave the two some distance, as Razkaul promptly obeyed the old man’s direction to draw closer. After walking over to the elderly man and leaning over, Razkaul lent an ear to hear the Prophet’s words.