Lady of the Lake
Prologue: Shadow
The voice echoed through the cavern.
Water lined everything, covering the walls, ceiling, floor, a layer of water like a perfect mirror. In the centre of the cavern, a tube made from the flowing liquid. Inside, the shadow. Its voice echoed, bouncing off the water, everywhere, pressing in on him.
He felt dizzy. Submerged up to his knees in the water, it seemed to hold him there. He felt his sword on his back. It was beginning to become heavy, his muscles cramped and tired.
The water seemed to invite him into itself, the colors dancing off it. He shook his head. He knew he couldn’t. If he let himself fall, he would die. It would embrace him and imprison him. He would be drowned and become one with the shadow. His clothes were damp, his long trousers heavy, and his rag vest sticking to him, the leather belts rubbing against his skin. He didn't know what to do. He tried to call out, but nothing. He couldn't move. He was trapped, hopelessly. And so tired.
The shadow watched him. He imagined he heard it laugh. Its voice was soft in his head, inviting. The water crept around it, slowly swirling. Fatigue started to take over him. His knee's started to shake. Suddenly, everything was too heavy. His body hung like a dead weight, pushing him down. He fell, but stabilized himself with his hand. As soon as it broke the waters surface, his hand went numb, as if paralyzed. He hissed under his breath. With his other hand he reached for the sword on his back and drew it from the belts. It’s made a strange scratching noise as he moved it, like fire licking at wood. With one movement, he slipped it clear of the belts and swung it into the water. Steam burst up and the blade seared through the water, which seemed to push itself away from the blade. The water hissed and spat. He traced the sword around his feet and hands, and the water bubbled and released him. The shadow seemed to shudder and sob. He stopped. He felt a twinge of guilt. The shadow laughed.
The water leapt up and knocked him down into the liquid, waves holding him down. His arms were held tightly, the sword well away from anywhere which could prove helpful. Slowly he began to become submerged. He tried to scream, but all that happened was water gushed into his mouth. The shadow screamed in glee. The last thing he saw was a wave of water.
XxXxX
In a cold sweat, Thorn jolted awake. His clothes were sticking to him, and his leather plated trousers heavy. The bandages tied round his arms and hands limited his movement. He sighed. He could feel the leather belts around his chest tugging him down as his sword sunk deeper into the soft mattress. He rolled over and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He had had that dream for over a year, and every time, he would wake up fully dressed. He wouldn't go to sleep like that.
He stepped up and wiped his messy brown hair from his eyes. It was soaked it sweat, sticking to his forehead. He frowned. He reached under the bed and pulled out a pair of worn and battered boots, with numerous nicks and gashes in them, each patched or sewn up. He pulled them on and took a leather helmet off the end of the bed. It covered his entire head and most of his face, with large cheek protectors and a visor that covered his eyes. He slipped it on and drew his sword. The Kaskara looked normal, its blade sharp and hard as rock, shining dully. The grey metal was warm as usual, its handle bound in leather that was molded to Thorn’s hand. He had found it in the dungeon of a castle he had been sent on a quest to when he was an apprentice. He sheathed the sword and walked out of the room.
XxXxX
Chapter I: Quest
The cobbled streets of the great City of Apollo shone in the morning sun as the stall keepers set up shop to be prepared for the early morning shoppers. Men and woman dodged and ran past each other in a hectic rush, the street already crowded by shop keepers themselves. Victor Madigan ‘Dark Blade’ walked through the streets, his apprentice, ‘Roseless’, following close behind, struggling with a pile of cases. Victor only addressed his apprentice by his Guild name, to make sure that there was no personal bond developed. He preferred it that way.
Victor was a once great Adventurer, renowned for becoming the first explorer and creating the ‘Guild or Explorer’s’. Now, he financed the Guild while training apprentices, for a hefty price. Victor and Roseless walked into a large building over looking the busy street. It was quite modern, with intricate carvings and mindless decoration. It was stone build with wooden pillars everywhere, each carved into floral shapes. The pair stepped through the large open oak door and into the great hall of the building.
There was a marble desk on the left side of the hall, and every other side was lined with shelves and staircases, leading to other levels and rooms. Victor waved a gesture to the receptionist who smiled back at him and walked to straight up a staircase, waving for Roseless to follow faster. The boy struggled along, balancing the cases shakily. They walked into a large office and Victor slammed the door shut, the slam echoing through the stone hall.
Roseless carefully dropped the cases onto Victor’s desk and stood, leaning against the wooden frame, regaining his breath as his master looked out of his window, as he did every morning. Roseless prepared himself for a long speech.
“Look at them.” Victor pointed to the shop keeper’s and the shopper’s. “This is what their day consists of. A muddle of random, pointless choices, the most important thing I the day most likely, ‘what color do I need this in?’” He scowled down. “How could they live with such a waste of a life? Who will remember them, or what they achieved. No one and nothing, that’s what. They are cattle, average. But we, my student, we are the exception. What we do will be recorded in books and remembered until there are no more books or tongues to speak of us.” He turned to Roseless and smiled. “We are the unforgettable ones.”
Roseless nodded. Even though he tired of his long speeches, they inspired him. They drove him on through the day, gave him something to think about. He was right. They were unforgettable. They would change the world. His master came across cold and uncaring to most people, but to Roseless, he was like a father.
“I have taught you how to fight?” He asked the boy. “I have taught you how to analyze every situation you could come across. I have taught you everything I know, and everything you need to be a great adventurer. But I have never taught you how to be a great person.” He pointed at the people again. “If you were to blend in with those people now, they would instantly take a dislike to you. They wouldn’t trust you, or wouldn’t take a liking to you, because of what your fate is. You can inspire to something while they are left to rot. You are better than them, and because of this, they will hate you.” He sighed. His face seemed to look less like a teacher, and more like a man, “So, there is no way we can fit in.”
He turned back to Roseless, a glint in his eye. “So, we create a persona, a cover up, someone who can fit in. Most of your jobs will come from these people, and most of the information you will gather will be from them, so they need to trust you. This is why you create someone who is just like them.”
He took a pair of small spectacles from his jacket pocket and slipped them on while pulling a few strands of hair from his neat comb back. Suddenly, he looked more like an adventurer, with his lean figure and thin face riddled with white scars that were barely visible. The hair made his face look more gaunt and handsome. He looked completely different.
“And so student, we then become someone else.” His voice had lost his accent and became more mysterious. “This is our greatest weapon and tool. This is our disguise.” He smiled at Roseless. He saw a young boy, just about his height, thin, all his clothes loosely fitted, and a mop of messy hair covering most of his eyes, which shone a deep mysterious blue. “This is the only homework you will ever get from me. Create your disguise.” He smiled and turned away. Anyone else looking at him would see a quiet apprentice. “Oh,” he called out as Roseless gathered his things from a large wardrobe in the corner of the room “Make sure your character is someone who sees past other people disguises, to who they really are.” He smiled at the boy. “Now run along and go practice you’re fighting. I heard that there’s still treasure in this old city.”
Roseless left, a large leather bag flung over his shoulder. Victor smiled as he left. This was his most promising student, and the one e liked the most out of al of them. He had something. He turned to his desk and went through a pile of papers concerning his guild. He took one from the pile. It was quality parchment, the words etched in with gold and silver. It was an invitation t the guild.
‘To my dearest friend and colleague Roseless, you have been invited to join the Guild of Explorers and take your place at the right hand of Dark Blade as Adventurer and Member of the council.’
Victor smiled. Long had he waited for an opportunity to give this to the boy. He hadn’t even reached fifteen, and he had already surpassed most of the Guild members in technique, skill and intelligence. Victor respected the boy, even felt for him. He was like the son that he hadn’t been allowed. He brushed his hair back into is comb over and took of the spectacles. ‘And if he passes this test,’ he thought, ‘he will be great enough to be my equal.’
XxXxX
Roseless walked onto the busy street. His master’s words echoed through his mind.
‘A disguise?’ He thought. It couldn’t be that hard. He followed the street to a small inn and entered through the back door. A small wooden corridor lead to a rickety staircase. He climbed it and came to the landing, with doors leading off to many other rooms. He opened the first one and sat on the bed, dropping his bag next to him. He pulled off his grey jacket and dropped it next to him before unbuttoning his white shirt. He then opened the bag. Inside lay all of his equipment. A long heavy sword lay atop a heavy leather coat, hard leather chest armor, a hard leather girdle and a pair of large boots. He laid these out on the bed, revealing a smaller bag. He emptied its contents. Inside was a thick bound book, a few vials and charms, a collection of gloves and bandages and a handful of leather belts. He wrapped the book in a belt and strapped it around his waist. A thicker with pockets attached, he filled with the vials and hung the charms from. The last few he strapped around his hips, wit small loops hanging down. He slipped his sword through the loops and bulled on the bard leather armor. He shifted it until it fitted comfortably before changing his trousers and shoes with the hard leather girdle and the boots. He pulled on a pair of wide leather gloves and then wrapped a bandage around each of his bare arms, stuffing the remaining gloves and bandages into the pockets in the girdle. He picked up the large coat and walked out of the room and towards the stairs.
As he descended, a man walked in. He was tall, dressed in strange clothes, a bit like his. He wore baggy trousers with leather plates sewn on and a large coat, thick and heavy looking, reaching down to his feet. He wore a hood, and carried a large staff on his back, and what looked like it may be a sword, but was wrapped in white bandages. His long brown hair was only just visible, but it covered his eyes. He walked up the stairs. As the two passed, he noticed the man’s boots. They were battered and covered in gashes and nicks. The man seemed to slow, and turned to him. His face looked like that of a young man, around sixteen or seventeen. Roseless looked away quickly and walked through the door and into the alleyway.
Already he had forgotten the man. He use a method his master had taught him. Concentration of the Zen. He focused on his mission. To find treasure and to train, and then to think up a disguise persona. He swung the long leather coat around and slipped into it. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a quill and rolled up his sleeve. With his other hand, he snapped the book off the belt and let the pages flick to the one he wanted. He copied a charm onto his arm. It flashed white before turning from black ink to a soft glowing red. He smiled. He was now ready. He took to the streets.
XxXxX
Thorn walked out of his room and into a busy street. He felt his Kaskara on his back and held its hilt for safety. He was always prepared.
He had heard of treasure deep in the city, in the abandoned sector. In the ‘Great War’, there was a section if the city that was so badly damaged., no one wanted to rebuild it. Bodies were trapped there, and it took weeks before the sound of screams faded. Many were distressed, but no matter how much they wanted, they couldn’t do a thing for the people. They were doomed.
No one had been in there for years, not even the thieves, and only a few knew its significance. One of those people owned a small shop near the Explorer’s Guild. He had decided days ago to find out about the sector by asking the merchant, but from gathering information about him, found out that he could only be bribed to tell of his secrets by magical items.
Luckily, Thorn wasn’t low on such trinkets. With his pockets full, he made his way to his meeting.
XxXxX
Roseless made his way through the back alleys, searching for the thieves and entrances to hidden catacombs that were dotted throughout the city.
