A quest for the heir of the phoenix ~ chapter two part b

Okie dokie - here is the second half of chapter two....

This scene continues after a small break in time from chapter two part a.

Any comments, critiques would be welcomed & appreicated!

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Gilch gasped loudly as the leather cord of the whip tightened on his beefy neck. His back pressed against the rail of the second floor bannister and he heard the creaking of wood which told him in no uncertain terms that his body weight was far more then the old beams could handle. Lylle stared at him with eyes so brown they were almost black in her sockets while resting her leather and armour clad boot precariously on the rail behind him, applying just enough pressure for the groaning to return just a bit louder. The rail gave about an inch and when it did the whip tightened that much more.

“Insulting me is one thing.” Lylle said at long last. “But I will not have you say a word about my mother behind her back.” Gilch looked up at the beam which Lylle had hooked her whip over and knew that if the rail gave over behind him then it would act as a noose and hang him. He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer to every God he could think of as thick beads of sweat began to roll down his swelling face where she had punched him so hard Gilch would have sworn that he had been hit by a troll.

“Now,” Lylle said as she moved her foot from the rail and placed it on his chest, pushing ever so slightly until there was a slight cracking sound coming from the wooden beam behind him. “Tell me about the man who laid siege to Aquila or I will snap this banister like a twig and let you choke to death.” There was another crack, this time louder and Gilch let out an undignified whimper, his eyes darting frantically around him.

“He’ll—he’ll ‘ave me killed! Please! Ya—ya don’t understand!” Gritting her teeth Lylle applied more pressure so that the banister gave way about another inch.

“Enlighten me.”

“Okay!” Gilch screamed when the rail shifted once more, this time the crack was deafening. “Let me up, I’ll tell ya’s what ya need. Anythin’!” Gilch didn’t say another word until they were back down on the main level, seated at one of the tables he had placed before the bookshelves lined with jars, parchments and books. His eyes shifted ever so often to the rail where he had been about to fall to his death and then snapped them back to a very impatient Lylle whose eyes had returned to a deep green, something Gilch could only guess was a small step in more positive direction. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, his hands fisted before him and his thumbs fumbling with each other nervously.

“His name is Lord Balkin.” Gilch said at last, his voice deep and rougher then before, and once he had said the name, he looked around him as if he half expected the dark lord to appear on sight.

“He’s of nobility?” Valdez asked in disbelief. Gilch nodded quickly as he dragged his attention back to them, brow once more slicked with sweat.

“If ya’s interrupt me, I’ain’t tellin’ ya tha rest, understood?” Gilch’s bushy brows rose far up his broad forehead and waited a beat or two before he continued in a low voice, his hands wringing themselves nervously before he rested them on the table.

“He’s known as tha Dark Lord o’ Dregard n’ ruled t’ere until tha year 542 o’ tha New World when he wos killed by tha dragon tha he’ad tried ta summon ta power. His Ma’ had been cursed by a powerful sorceress who had been scorned by Balkin’s Da’ Lord Craystin. She damned tha woman’s first born ta be a son born o’ hatred, evil 'n darkness. A child with tha soul o’a demon. By tha time he wos 15 he’ad raped 'n killed his Ma’.”

Gilch paused and leaned closer towards them, his voice almost hushed as if he was afraid that someone would overhear some terrible secret. “Word is thou’ t’wos not because he’ad desired her but be’cos he wanted only ta hear ‘er scream.” He hesitated momentarily as if the image had rendered him speechless with disgust. “His lust for power,” He spoke after clearing his throat, “had driven ‘im ta also kill ‘is Da’ by pushin’ him ou’ tha window, 'n so he became tha Lord o’ Dregard. Tha sorceress who’ad cursed his ma' came ta him 'n tutored him in tha ways o’ dark magic. But tha bastard learned quick 'n soon—well let’s just say tha he out grew her 'n she ‘ad ta go.”

Gilch lifted a hand from the table and ran his dirty thumb across his throat in explanation “He then began layin’ siege ta nearby cities expandin’ his holdins’ 'n increasin’ his power as a Lord. He found Cerlyn when she wos just a wee littl'un ‘n was instantly drawn ta her. It wos come ta be rumored by most tha she shared tha same evil tha coursed through his veins. It wos believed tha he slaughtered her parents right in front o’er eyes 'n yet she never cried.” As he continued to speak Lylle seemed to feel a kind of coldness creep into her as his words painted a picture filled with darkness and shadows.

“In fact t’er are t'ose who say tha she wos as fascinated by death 'n bloodshed as he wos. He raised her in magic 'n she proved ta be talented, learning very quickly. It wos also said tha t'ey’s formed a sexual interest outside of t’er Da' 'n daugh'er bond. Cerlyn’s strength grew beyond his. But t'ey’s both had a common vision tha t'ey’s knew t'ey’s would need each other ta realize. All know tha ta summon a dragon is unheard of but ta control one is impossible 'n yet it did not stop Balkin from wantin’ ta try 'n fulfill his dream o’ domination. He preformed tha spell but his powers were na' enough 'n tha beast turned on 'im. But when he died tha strangest thing happened. Tha Gods, now seeing what kind o’ evil truly lay within his soul, were afraid.

"Balkin wos so vile tha heaven din'na' want him 'n hell would'na claim him. Tha Gods were faced wit’a dilemma. None o’ them seemed ta want tha responsibility o’ keeping him for all eternity. 'N so t'ey’s banished him, trapping him in a semi state o’ being so tha he wos neither living nor dead, but a damned soul forced ta wander fa tha rest o’ time alone 'n harmless ta’ all. But tha Gods underes'ima'ed not only him but Cerlyn as well. She devoted all o’ her time in’ta increasin’ her powers 'n layin' siege ta’ all o’ Surak so tha when tha time came ta resurrect Balkin t'ey’s would be free ta rule tha world as Gods. He linked his soul wit' her so tha throu’ him Cerlyn would be as close ta’ an immortal as she could get. 'N throu’ her Balkin’s powers would expand 'n grow...so t'ey’s fed off each ot'er.”

“But if this man is dead,” Lylle spoke up at last, leaning forward on the table as Pixie flittered close to her head. “Then how can he be the one who laid siege to Aquila? Cerlyn was destroyed and there is no one left strong enough to perform the resurrection. No one would want to anyway.” Gilch lifted his hand as if to still Lylle’s words.

“Ya’ve heard the stories of the Tri-blood mercenary Captain, Jezar Steele?”

“Yes.” Lylle said as she looked to Valdez who nodded in consent as well.

“He had aligned himself with Cerlyn so that he would have the opportunity to kill Sorsha 'who apparently had been tha only person ever to have fought him and lived.” Valdez said smoothly his grey and brown eye narrowing slightly in question.

“Yes.” Gilch interjected. “But what ya don’t know is tha Jezar and Cerlyn also became lovers—which was highly unusual as she ‘ad a strong hatred for anyone not o’ pure blood. Yet she saw tha Jezar embodied everythin’ she'ad hoped ta find in a candidate fa' Balkin 'n so despite his mixed blood she'ad found tha perfect body ta host Balkin’s dark soul.”

“And I will say it once more, Cerlyn is dead, no ritual was ever preformed. My mother fought and killed Jezar. She saw his body.”

“Yes.” Gilch said once more, this time his tone was hard and fringed with annoyance. “Jezar wos killed. But his body wos still whole. For Balkin ta claim it, then Jezar would have ta 'ave been dead so tha his body would be empty 'n clear fa' it ta be possessed. Somehow Balkin wos able ta enter tha body wit'out Cerlyn’s help. But becos he wos practically a God himself, by possessin’ an earthly body t’er have been some—side effects. His features 'ave changed ta reflect tha evil wit'in him. He no longer, in face o’ form, appears ta be Jezar…except if I's understand correctly tha scar still remains...” The last part of his sentence was almost inaudible, as if Gilch had been saying it more to himself then anyone else.

“A scar?” Lylle demanded. “What scar?” Hearing her question snapped him back from his thoughts and it took a moment for Gilch to get his bearings back in order.

“A battle wound tha’t Jezar wos practically famous for. A scar tha ran over tha left side o’ his face slashing him from brow ta chin o’er his left eye which wos still intact. If I's am righ', even thou’ Balkin’s soul has altered Jezar’s physical form, tha scar still remains 'n t’is dis scar alone tha will help ya's identify him.” Gilch shifted his gaze from Valdez to Lylle and back again.

“Ya don’t believe me do ya's?”

“That an undead soul managed to repossess the body of a slain mercenary; come back to life five hundred years later so that he can finish what his adopted daughter began?” Lylle asked through a sarcastic laugh. “No, not entirely.” Gilch’s fists unclenched themselves and his sweaty palms braced the table before him as he rose shakily to his feet.

“I’s risked m’ life ta tell ya what I know o’ him. If ya's want ta see fa y’erself, then go ta tha burial site outside o’ Finalia where t'se who fough' durin' tha War o’ tha Dragons were laid ta rest. Look fa his grave ‘n dig up his body. I's assure ye tha yas'll na find one.”

“How do you know all of this anyway?” Valdez asked, rising to his feet much in the same way Gilch had although in height Valdez towered over him. “How is it that you are so familiar with the life of a man who was born in the time of the New World?” Gilch’s grin came swift and unexpectedly, bearing stained or missing teeth.

“I's make good money as’a paid informant. But if I told ya all o’ m’secrets I’s be out o’ business.” Pausing Gilch rubbed his sore neck with his hand absently and stared down at Lylle who watched him with blatant distrust.

“I’s told ya’s all tha I know ‘n this matter…Give y’er Ma’ me’regards.”