Izaryle's Prison

by Levi Samuel

  Ravion looked through the makeshift glass searching for any sign across. It helped a bit, but much was still hidden from view. Scanning the outer wall, acknowledging the full expanse of the castle grounds, he noticed a wide bridge spanning across the deep chasm to the other side. The lingering snow made it difficult to see, but it was clearly there. Tracing the road to the wall he was able to make out the blackened and sealed gate. Twin spires shot into the sky on either side overlooking the approach. It seemed there was no way across without being seen. Lowering the sight glass he turned, addressing his companions. “I found the gate, but there's no way we can make it. Not without some kind of cover.”

  A brief shadow danced across the corner of his eye. Curiosity fueling him he stepped closer to the ledge, bracing against a small tree. Adjusting his sight he twisted the dense glass, gaining better detail over the amplified image. A lone horseman turned, following a twisting, narrow trail along the side of the chasm. He rode out of the shadowed crevice and onto a small road branching from the near side of the bridge. Tracing the horseman's route he noticed a slight glimmer in the dark. An icy bridge, hidden far beneath the surface reflected the sparse glow of sunlight. “There may be another way into the castle.”

  “What do you see?” Gareth asked, uncertain of anything in his near-blind state.

  Handing the sight glass to the one-eyed man, Ravion continued. “Do you see that rider down there?”

  Gareth positioned the tube and adjusted the quartz. He found a man mounted atop a horse galloping along the main road. He was gaining unnatural speed, yet the horse seemed to be able to keep the pace. The man wore a black cloak, its hood covering his face. Each step the horse took revealed the pale-white face of a man. His form was bulky suggesting he was wearing thick armor. The edge of a scabbard could be seen hanging from his side. “Yeah.”

  Demetrix focused, feeling his sight clear and seemingly zoom in to focus on the man. “Yes.”

  “He didn’t cross the bridge. I think there’s another path. Down there, in the shadows.”

  Gareth turned, searching the direction Ravion had suggested. “You sure? I'm not seeing anything.”

  “Come on, I think I know how to get there.” The young ranger pulled himself away from the edge and into the tree line. Climbing to one of the higher bluffs he noticed the trees were beginning to grow sparse. Aligning his position to one of the faded windows in the upper spire he stepped to the edge and peeked down.

  “Where are you taking us?” Gareth locked his arms around one of the trees, regaining his footing against the steep snow-covered rocks.

  “Look.” Ravion pointed into the chasm.

  Demetrix braced himself against a tree and leaned over. He saw a thin, icy pass stretching across the endless ravine. It was narrowly wide enough for a single horseman to cross without falling into the void below. A trail snaked along the cliff face disappearing into a wide cavern in the depths. “I wouldn't have seen that.” He admitted, admiring his brother’s find.

  “Had it not been for that rider, I wouldn’t have. It blends in perfectly.”

  “Well, I’ll give you a job well done for finding it, but how are we gonna get to it? These rocks would be hard enough to climb without my fingers being numb. Mix that with snow cover and I think it'd be a quick drop to a final stop.” Gareth kept his hold on the frost covered tree, refusing to lean over the edge.

  “We’ll just have to be careful. It’s either this or we give up trying to get home.” Ravion admitted, hoping it would spur the once bald warrior into action.

  Demetrix dropped his pack and removed a long bundle of rope from the side. “Would you say that’s about eighty feet to the bridge?”

  Ravion stole a quick glance, judging the distance. “About. Certainly no more than a hundred.”

  Demetrix sized a foot between his hands and measured the twisted hemp. Counting silently he estimated roughly one hundred and fifty feet. Sighing, he placed the two ends together and quickly ran the rope through his hands ensuring it folded evenly. “We'll have to be careful. I don't think there's enough to reach the bottom, but it won't be too far a drop. Just make sure you don't slip when you land.” Approaching one of the thicker trees, Demetrix looped the fold around its base. Running the tails through, he pulled tight, making sure it would hold. The tree didn't budge. Nodding his contempt, he swiftly whipped the tails, watching them fall over the edge and disappear into the depths below. Holding the rope for Ravion he stepped aside. “You want the honors?”

  Snaking the rope over one boot and under the other Ravion inched toward the edge, keeping it taut. Feeling his weight leave the ground he gently swung away from the bluff, suspended over the gaping chasm below. Hands loose around the hemp, he lifted his foot and slowly slid toward the bridge. Reaching the bottom he locked his grip, extending himself as far as he could. His feet were just barely able to toe the slick surface. Letting go he bent at the knees, absorbing the minor shock. Careful to keep his footing, Ravion backed away, scanning the area.

  “You’re up.” Demetrix handed the rope to Gareth.

  Gareth cautiously took it, fighting himself to let go of the tree. He looked down at the increasing distance and back to the young dalari. Swallowing hard he glanced again.

  “Go on. We don’t have all day.”

  “Give me a damn minute!” Gareth snapped, refusing to take his eyes off the distance.

  “It’s not that bad. Just hold onto the rope and set your feet. Over one, under the other. If you need to slow, step down. The pressure will stop you. To speed up, lift your foot slightly. It’s pretty simple.”

  Closing his eye Gareth positioned his feet, keeping a death grip on the thread-like line. Trembling, he opened his eye again to look at the rope around his feet. It was much thicker than it felt, though it didn't set him at ease. “Like that?”

  “Yeah.” Demetrix lunged forward, shoving him over the edge.

  “You motherfucker!” Gareth clenched tight, holding to the rope with every part of his body.

  Demetrix stepped toward the edge and looked down, seeing his friend gently swaying back and forth. “All you have to do is lift your left foot and you’ll slide to the bottom.”

  His face hurt. Clenched so tight he could feel tears squeeze from his good eye. The words reached him, but his body wouldn’t comply. “I can’t. I can’t!”

  “You’re telling me a big, strong warrior like yourself can rush into battle without a second thought, but he can’t handle sliding down a rope?” Demetrix couldn’t help but laugh.

  “I’m gonna kill you when I get down from here. You know that right?”

  “Well, I guess it’s a good thing down's the only way you can go. Unless you’ve learned to fly?”

  Forcing himself to peek at the depths below, keeping his death grip, Gareth felt nauseous. The slight spin was making him uneasy, as if the more he twisted the quicker the rope was going to break.

  Demetrix drew his dagger, stepping toward the ledge. “I hate to do this, but I’m going to count to ten. If you haven’t started sliding by the time I get there, I’m going to cut the rope.”

  “Don’t you fucking dare!”

  “One, two, three—.” Demetrix placed his dagger against the braided hemp, making sure Gareth could see it. “—four, five—.”

  Gareth slowly lifted his foot. The rope slid through his grip, slowly guiding him toward solid ground. Within seconds he reached the bottom, toeing the icy surface. Trembling, he scooted as close to the wall as he could, refusing to get near the edge.

  Demetrix put away his dagger and grabbed the line. Abandoning all caution he jumped, letting a free-fall claim him. Watching the rapidly approaching ledge he hooked his feet and pressed down, slowing himself enough to tighten his grip. Moments before impact he locked both hands and feet, stopping him instantly. The rapid descent stretched the rope nearly an additional foot. Stepping off, he let go. The rope sprung away from him, suddenly free of the weight.

  Lost in
impulse Gareth stepped forward and swung, catching the young dalari in the side of the head. Justice flowed through him. Had he not dropped he would have hit him again. Anger fueled, Gareth scooted his feet an inch at a time across the thin layer of ice. The slippery material comprised the entirety of the bridge.

  The pain throbbing through his frozen ear was but a pinprick to the uncontrollable laughter rolling from him. Demetrix stared up at the enraged dreuslayer, forcing his laughter to subside. “I hope you feel better now.”

  Ravion chuckled, pulling his brother to his feet. “You know you deserved that, right?”

  Chuckling to himself Demetrix watched Gareth reach the other side. “Yeah, I kind of did. Did you know he was afraid of heights?”

  “Why do you think he spends so much time under ground?”

  His eyes got big, as if he'd just uncovered some big secret. “Is he a dwarf?”

  An angry shout echoed across the ravine. “I'm not a gods’ damned dwarf! Get over here before I plant my boot in your ass!”

  Whispering, Demetrix added to the annoyance. “He's angry. Must be a dwarf thing.”

  Ravion shook his head, instantly regretting their plan.

  Quickly crossing the bridge, they joined Gareth on the other side.

  Chapter XXII

  Out with the Old

  Metallic dust rose from the stiff, golden pages, gleaming in torchlight. Ravion meticulously flipped through them, searching the etched words. A golden sheen danced across his face, renewed by each page. Scanning as fast as his eyes would allow, he froze, holding the raised page near its threshold. He recognized the words, but their meaning eluded him.

  Gareth leaned against the chiseled walk, feeling the heat from the torch overhead. Glancing over the young dalari's shoulder he sighed heavily, showering him in a nagging disapproval. “Do you really think now is the time to be reading that?”

  Refusing to look up from the foreign words Ravion turned another page. “Ask yourself this. Would you rather have some idea as to what we’re facing when we find the mirror? Or be forced to figure it out during a fight? I believe it'd be rather difficult to read a book while dodging a sword.”

  Gareth groaned, pushing himself off the wall. Pacing across the narrow tunnel he kicked his drying boots, watching dust fall from the rough surface. “I suppose you’re right. Gods, what’s taking him so long?” Spinning around he fell against the section he'd been leaning and slid down, taking a seat next to Ravion.

  “Have patience, my friend. He’ll be back soon enough.” Flipping between two pages, Ravion noted a similarity in text. The ancient writing was fascinating, though a bit dry at times. “I wish I knew who wrote these books. They put some serious effort into them.”

  “Probably some wizard with too much time on his hands. I’d even wager he used a magic quill to do all the work. Lazy bastard!”

  Ravion chuckled, shifting the book so Gareth could see it. “The words are carved, Gareth. Besides, not all casters take shortcuts. I’ve known quite a few that refuse to take the easy route for fear of becoming dependent on their magic. Those few have my utmost respect.”

  “Blah! Just because they never showed you their fixations doesn’t mean they didn’t have ‘em.”

  Ravion shook his head, knowing he’d never win this argument. Hearing footsteps, he shifted his attention toward the entrance.

  Demetrix stepped into the torchlight, lowering his hood. “It’s done. We shouldn’t have to worry about anyone coming up behind us.”

  “Finally! Can we go now?” Gareth jumped up, straightening his cloak.

  “Someone seems a bit impatient.” Demetrix pulled the torch from its holder and smothered the flame.

  Using the final bits of light Ravion closed the book and stuffed it back into his satchel. Pulling himself up he stretched, listening to his back pop.

  An unwelcome snap caught their attention. Jumping to the ready they stared into the face of a middle-aged man wearing black robes. His receded hairline left a slight peak at the center, accentuating his pale-white skin.

  “I thought I saw a torch flicker. What have we here? Three— humans.” He paused, sniffing the air. “No. Two dalari and something I've never smelt before.” A wicked smile came to his lips. “You've come to pay homage to the shadow, haven't you? I must say, not many of your kind are left. Thought we'd found them all. I guess not. No worries though, you're here now. I’ll be happy to deliver your sacrifice.” He kicked his cloak behind him letting it fall to the center of his back. Drawing a broadsword, he centered it on his mass and took a deep breath.

  Ravion was taken back by the man’s knowledge, as well as his demeanor. “What is it with these guys? They're so cocky. Okay, so I tend to talk—”

  “A lot!” Gareth interjected.

  “But am I really this sure of myself when I do it?”

  “Yeah, you kind of are.” Demetrix nocked an arrow and took aim, waiting for a clean shot.

  “Really?” Lunging forward Ravion drew his sword, hearing the metal collide. Spinning around for another attack he felt something brush his leg. “Be on the lookout, something else is here.”

  The sharliet easily deflected the strike. Twisting the wide blade he sprang into action, slashing at Ravion. The attack was short. He side stepped and readied another strike. It was one thing to combat a single opponent, but three at once would prove difficult unless he could keep them bottle necked.

  Ravion leaned back, avoiding the blow. This man was skilled in the ways of the blade. He was already in position to disrupt their efforts, forcing them to work around each other. Feigning left Ravion spun and attacked opposite, hoping to use the man's tactics against him. Falling back he spoke, encrypting his words. “Retnec, Xirtemed. Thgir og ll'I, tfel ekat, hterag.”

  Understanding, Gareth drew his blades and stabbed at the pale human's left side. Dipping the blade, he rolled his wrist and switched hands. The sharliet wasn’t quick enough to deflect the second strike. The tip stabbed through the black cloth covering the man's torso. It rang out, signifying something solid. “He’s got armor.”

  Exhaling slowly, Demetrix forced his body into submission. This shot was too critical to miss by even the slightest margin. Two inches on either side of his brothers’ heads remained clear. The odds were stacked slightly out of favor, but he was confident he could pull it off. Closing his eyes he visualized the target, blocking out all other obstacles. Taking a second breath he opened them, verified, and let loose the string. It rolled off his finger tips and rapidly sprung forward. The arrow buckled under the sudden force. Correcting itself the wooden shaft wobbled slightly and took flight, catching the air in its fins. The feathers began to spin, slicing through the air with remarkable speed. The tip was dead on, ready to impale its target. Just a few more feet and it would strike him between the eyes. His heart pounded in his chest. If only it could arrive before his bothers moved. Watching in earnest, waiting for the killing blow, the arrow stopped mid-air for the briefest moment. His success was stolen. A circle of red formed around the obscured shaft and the arrow hit the ground, embedded in some kind of strange, invisible beast. Stepping forward Demetrix watched the creature come into view, drawing its final breath. The arrow had pierced its nostril and exited the rear of its fur-less head.

  Hearing the yelp and thud, Gareth stole a glance back, spotting the huge beast lying dead behind him. “What the hell is that?”

  Demetrix stared at the creature, lost in its appearance. It appeared to be some form of dog, though none he'd ever seen before. Its gravelly skin was black, looking almost of scale. The eyes were lifeless and dark. It had the stench of decay about it. An unusual hiss escaped, as if the air was escaping the wound. It melted before his eyes, disappearing into nothing but a handful of cave dust. Shaking his head, Demetrix grabbed his arrow and readied to fire another shot.

  The sharliet stabbed and hooked his blade, forcing both warriors to react. Instantly withdrawing he stepped back, building a cushion of space
between himself and the trespassers. “You’re gonna’ pay for that!” Extending his gloved hand, archaic words flow forth. “Thgif siht dne ot rewop em dnel, thgilp s'tnavres ruoy, thgim tsekrad!”

  Demetrix felt his chest tighten. He couldn’t explain it, but he knew the man had a hold of him. The pressure was squeezing the life from him. His heart raced, constricting itself quicker by the second. He wouldn’t be able to take much more. Losing feeling in his arms he watched his bow hit the ground, springing away from him. An impact reverberated through his body. He was lying on the crudely chiseled floor, convulsing. He foamed at the mouth, clutching his chest, unable to give his torment voice.

  Ravion looked from the caster and back to his brother. His skin was turning blue. He had to do something and quick. “Hey!” Reaching beneath his cloak he flung a simple dagger. It flew true, aimed at the man's chest. He didn't move, didn't acknowledge it— didn't flinch. Ravion watched the small blade hit head on. It narrowly touched his shirt and shot to the side, landing on the floor. What the hell? How’d that miss?

  Gareth closed his eye, focusing his will on the assailant. Whispers filled his head. Whispers and shadow. He couldn’t understand the words, but the intent was clear. He had to stop it. Forcing his rage to the surface, Gareth turned toward Demetrix. Keeping his eye shut he envisioned the air around the ranger. Stacking it like blocks he created a thick shield, blocking out the dark energy flowing toward his friend. He felt the invisible grip collide with his wall, trying to find a way through. Unable to find flaw, it retreated and disappeared.

  What? Why’d it stop before I crushed his heart? The sharliet sniffed the air, searching for something. They haven’t used magic. Why'd it fail? Lost in the moment, unable to understand what happened, fear overcame him. Had Izaryle withdrawn his blessing? Did he want these intruders alive?