Blood of the Ancient - The Helix Rebellion saga #1

Chapter 16

The angry blizzard rattled against wooden shutters of Alundra Village, whistling around hinges and openings trying to gain access to the warmth inside. Thick clumps of brilliant snow pounded against barred doors, burying them to waist height. The sky above was a whirl of grey and dirty white; an impenetrable barrier restraining pillars of yellow light above.

The village was deserted, with no sign of anyone - except the ninja. His dark clothing was caked in clumps of white, weighing him down and soaking to the bone. Smoke-like breath swirled from his panting lips, merging with the freezing air. Quiet eyes peered through curtains and shutter slots, homes on lock-down, watching in awe as the cold wanderer battled against brutal winds.

His physiognomy was hidden by the dark depths of a black hood, but determination shone from his piercing eyes. He was focused, and ready for what he'd come to do. Two sheathed katana lay crisscrossed across his lower back. One was slightly longer than the other; a splash of red along her length. If the ninja was being hampered by the weather, he gave no indication of it - an ordinary man would probably have frozen to death by now.

He'd already probed the Research Centre, slaying fifty guards who were in the way. The building was empty, so he left, continuing north-east into the bitter whiteness. He now stood at the entrance to Crow's personal laboratory; the place he'd been living since his wife had left many years ago. He stood patiently, hands gripped on cold hilts, waiting for the guards; they never came. He charged at the door, delivering a powerful kick at its centre - sending splinters in all directions as it exploded from the force. He walked casually into the foyer, stepping over the broken wood and glass. Old pictures he half-recognised swung in frames on the wall, the crisp wind gushed in behind him and flowed along the corridors length. He wasn't fooled by these false attempts of sentiment; he knew Crow's photographs served no other purpose than to aid his recruitment.

The ninja continued past two empty chairs and stopped at a closed door. He tried the handle, opening with a long creak. The room inside was dimly lit; a small table lamp sat on a desk in the centre of the gigantic library, surrounded by high shelves of old books. His nose twitched with the musty aroma of paper and wood. Two small windows high up were covered in snow. There was movement behind the table lamp.

The old man's shadow climbed the wall behind, stretching up to the ceiling vault. He was sat at the far side of the table facing the doorway, fingers interlocked and arms at rest on the wood. His white hair was long and bedraggled, and looked like he'd been living on the streets. Crow welcomed his guest, and gesturing for him to enter the room. "Come in, son."

Samiel folded back the soaked hood covering his head, and peeled the mask from his face - revealing tiredness and anger. He entered with caution, hands readied on swords.

"Don't worry - I'm unarmed," said Crow, offering an honest smile and empty hands. "I sent my remaining guards away, since you slaughtered the others," he shook his head with contempt. "They don't come cheap you know." He leant forward onto elbows, illuminated omnipotence shone in the lamp light.

"You knew I was coming." Samiel realised.

"Of course. Please, come in," Crow opened a palm and gestured to the chair opposite. "Sit down."

"I won't be staying long. I just need answers."

"Absolutely son, anything you need. I'm your father and I love you dearly." Crow was calm and appeared honest – which enraged Samiel.

"Is that so?" asked Samiel, in a mocking tone. "Tell me about my childhood then." He moved to a bookshelf on the left, sliding a thick volume on ancient religion from the row.