Undying #Wattys2015

Chapter 3: Claira Blackenwing

Two days earlier...

Through the Eyes of Claira Blackenwing:

Those who kill for power deserve to rot. A Wayward like you deserves to rot. Bane Allensworth, where are you?

You ruined him.

I was able to track you down to the Mountains of Theal. I'm going to find you. I am going to bring you to justice. You are a selfish monster. Did you think for one second I'd give up? No, you were wrong. I don't give up.

Hiding in the folds of the mountain's side, a small cottage loomed in the dusk. Seeing the sign, "Possessions of Theal", I knew I came to the right place. All my research on Bane's actions had led me here; he wanted to buy a priceless treasure from the curator of this run down, hidden curio shack. I opened the door and cautiously entered, with my hand on the handle of my sword.

There were countless mirrors hung against the walls, and I noticed myself. I had changed. This hunt through shadows had aged me. I'm no longer the girl I was when I graduated. No. Now I'm a killer. In the mirror, I saw myself, a young woman, with coffee colored hair that barely reached my shoulders. My old jacket was dark as the night, and etched right over my heart was a blue fire insignia; the symbol of the Aetherial Warriors. I had come a long way.

Surprised, the aged curator walked over to where I was standing and asked, "Can I help you? Looking for any treasures from the mountain?" and in his hand, he presented a white foggy crystal formation. He continued, "There are more like this, and if you'll follow me, I can show you-"

"No," I interrupted, "I'm not here to buy anything. My name is Claira Blackenwing, and I'm looking for this man," and I held out a wanted poster of a man clad in darkness, with pitch black hair and blue eyes, grinning wickedly back at us through the page. "Has he come through here?"

The old curator wore his spectacles and pulled the poster close to his eyes. He explained, "Oh I remember him. He came here just yesterday, asking if I had my Aeverian Sword. He was really keen on buying it..."

My eyes widened and asked, "Did he tell you why he wanted it?"

Searching his thoughts, the old man touched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. He explained, "He didn't mention his plans for it. It's really just a useless piece of junk. It's not even sharp." As he talked, he was rearranging the mirrors. He continued, "The legends say that the Aeverian Swords were once the most powerful weapons of Een, that they could even pierce a Guardian's invincible hide. But I guess time has withered them down," and with a grin, he motioned to his elderly stature, "Time isn't friendly to anyone! Only Guardians are immortal."

I nodded, and my mind courted with paranoid thoughts. Did Bane want to kill a Guardian? Doesn't he already have the Heart of Darkness?

Returned to reality, I muttered nervously, "Thank you for your time," After a small pause, I asked, betting on some small hope, "Did this man have anyone with him by chance?"

The old man nodded, "Yes, there was a young man with him. Kind fellow. Much better natured than that wicked one."

He's not dead? My eyes swelled at the thought of it. He's not dead. I touched my necklace, and I closed my eyes. I'm going to find you. I promise. I'll rescue you from Bane.

In a hurry, I was starting my way out the door until he called, "Miss!" and I turned back to face him. He hurriedly limped over and continued, "What has this man done?"

Without thinking, I blurted, "He betrayed us all," and the rushing, calling wind opened the shack's flimsy door, and I knew it was time to leave.

I bowed and ran outside. The setting sun was hiding behind the mountains, and there she was, waiting for me. My Shadow Beast, a giant black eagle, was standing valiantly with her opened wings, which caught the howling wind like kites. Her name was Ink. She extended her wings, and I climbed aboard, holding onto her smooth, cold feathers. As the master of the wind, she simply flapped her wings and let the gust take her. We flew through the darkness of the night.