Young Writers Society

The crisp night air blew past Richard’s face as he and Thunder neared the canyon, the entrance dark and menacing, the sudden feeling of hope washed over Richard as he entered, would he find anything that would lead him closer to his brother in the darkness, or would everything his parents had left behind be gone? Thunder whinnied as the wind began to get rougher, his black main blowing around his face.

Pulling on the rains Richard brought Thunder to a stop. Jumping off of his back Richard walked through the canyon leading Thunder behind him.

Silence surrounded them as they walked, only the sound of hooves against rock could be heard echoing along the stone walls.

Richard didn’t know how much time had passed before he saw a wooden stable up ahead, the hay and water old from years of being neglected. Fastening Thunders rains to one of the many wooden poles, Richard looked around for a staircase leading up into the ravine walls, once one was found Richard didn't waste any time ascending it. Once at the top he was greeted with a rather shocking sight, pulling himself to his feet Richard looked over the old desks that seemed to be all over the room, mounds of paper and books covering the exteriors all covered in dust.

Walking up to the closest table Richard reached for a piece of paper the dust flying off its surface with the motion forming a small cloud.

Coughing, Richard wiped the paper with his hand allowing the small words to be seen. Skimming over the words Richard lifts an eyebrow, this was his father’s handwriting.

This is day three, and so far nothing. The king's palace is heavily guarded twenty-four seven and I don't see any way we can get in. There is one choice but that is too risky, and I will have to do further research on it.

On the upside, we did take a guard hostage today, his not willing to talk, but time will hopefully get to him.

Thomas Ashbrook.

Richard slowly places the paper back on the table. How long had they been studying the King? Where all the paper notes left by his father? Richard walked over to the desk next to his fathers, the books neatly stacked on one another, and the paper all in one pile with a stone on top to keep it down. Richard laughed to himself when he saw a portrait of him and his brother on the table, both of them were covered in mud but seemed to be happy.

Moving on, Richard removed one of the books from the desk, its surface was littered with dust and the cover could hardly be seen. Blowing the dust from the book's exterior he wiped a hand over to remove the rest, a red cover now reveled with a golden title imprinted in fine capital letters.

“JEWELS.” Richard read aloud, quickly flipping through the pages, none of the jewels he saw in the book looked anything like the one he had. Quickly he removed the gem from his pouch looking over it, it's icy outside was like nothing he had ever seen, and apparently, it hadn’t been heard of either. He knew Ryan had said a few things about it, but that didn’t do him any good right now, being he didn't give very much information.

Putting the gem away Richard moved away from the tables, he saw a flight of stairs going down into a dark hallway, looking around he saw a large stick placed in a mettle loop on the wall. Grabbing the two lighting stones from one of his pouches Richard soon lit the torch and removed it from the loop.

The warm firelight shone down the stairs the soft glow revealing the first few steps. With no hesitation, Richard made his way down the hall the sound of his hurried steps the only noise ringing along the cold walls. The stairs seemed to go on forever until Richard came across three more halls, these already had torches lit further down.

Richard didn’t think much of it as he walked down one of the passageways the walls were now covered in a soft light. It didn’t take long before he walked into a large room, weaponry littered the walls and the shelves throughout. Walking over to a wall full of swords Richard looked over them, their razor-sharp blades reflecting the torchlight. He didn’t dwell on them too long before moving onto the next lot of weapons. Softly he ran a hand over a large wooden bow, the woodgrain soft under his gloved fingers.

Glancing around the rest of the room Richard could see it wasn’t only an armory, but also a training room as his cerulean eyes landed on a punching bag and some target dummies and many more in the back, hidden away by a now faded curtain. There must be another section to the room to allow more space.

Casting a look behind him Richard walked out of the room and down another hallway, how long must it have taken his parents to make this place? Must have been a few years, 10 at most. Richard sighed as he walked into another room, this one was full of poll lines with clothes hanging from them, and tables stacked with pouches and shoes, near the door on pegs were black cloaks. Richard couldn’t believe what he was seeing, how many missions had his parents gone on to need so many things?

Walking over to one of the tables he looked over the shoes, they were just the same as he’s, only older, he then turned his attention to the pouches. They were all different sizes and shapes. Picking one up, he looked over the quality, most of them looked handmade and in good shape.

Next, he moved onto the clothes. He only skimmed through but he could see most of them were handmade and came in the same bland colors. Not many of the clothes were the same, he could see many were made for different missions. Behind the cloaks, Richard could see masks made out of wood and painted with patterns. Two spaces were left for the eyes, with black painted around the rims.

Richard walked out of the room and down the next pathway, everything was turning into a maze in his head, but something deep inside kept him moving. At the end of the hall was a flight of stairs that traveled down. Only the light from the torch in Richard's hand provided a warm glow down the hall.

He didn't waste any time as he descended the steps, eager to see what was down in the darkness. Large dust clouds floated into the air as Richard's feet hit the floor. The farther Richard went the slower his movements became as a foul smell came to his nose. Restraining himself from gagging he pushed forward, lifting the torch once making it down to the bottom. Large pillars were scattered throughout the area, with thick chains put into metal loops.

"This must be the prison," Richard said walking around. When he made it right to the back he saw a few jails, with rusted keys hanging on the wall.

The sound of footsteps behind Richard forced him to turn around, his sword already in hand the torch now forgotten on the floor. By the sound of it, it could be two men or more. Their movements were quick as they made their way towards Richard.

Gritting his teeth Richard waited for them to attack, he knew if he was quick he could finish them without a problem, they were most likely outsiders trying their luck. Spreading his legs a little he shifted his feet on the floor getting a firm grip.

The cold slicing sound through the air could be heard as a small breeze was felt just millimeters from his right ear. Lifting his sword Richard's collided with another's icy blade. Looking up he could see a man clad in black cloths, a mask covering his face.

Richard's eyes widened as he realized what was happening. Quickly he jumped away from the other man backflipping into the air and landing a few paces away from him. He reached into his pouch and throw a knife to his left hearing it collide with another blade a few meters away.

The man in front of him stood there, silent. As a guy in the same clothes landed next to him from the ceiling, he too had a sword in hand, its long blade gleaming in the fading light. Seeming to read one another's mind they both ran towards Richard their swords poised and ready to attack.

Glancing to the side Richard saw the third man running towards him, two swords in hand.

Reaching behind him Richard removed the second sword strapped to his back. His eyes darted from one man to the next, awaiting the next attack. He just hoped all of Ryan's training would pay off because he knows he's going to need it right now.