Saorhin's face flushed red, and then paled immediately afterwards, feeling betrayal from the king. How could they justify this treachery? What could have happened for these events to take place? Lightning seemed to flash in his eyes as, in a rage, his mind smashed every last object in close proximity of him. This isn't right, how could they do this? I know the answer. They seem to think that I am too unimportant, that I am strange, and not to be trusted in their perfect world. If that is what they think, then I will punish them for their disillusioned thoughts of me. If that is what they fear, then let their fears come true. A faint flicker of a smile spread across his face. If that is how the foolish old king wishes to play, he thought to himself, I can break his power in an instant. His reign of injustices must end, and in his place must rise a regime of righteousness, of true power!
He grimaced, and marched off, into the blackness of the night. I have always enjoyed darkness, Saorhin's mind lied to himself, it covers all the horrible misdeeds of men; it silences the maddening clamor of superficial minds, and brings tranquility to the land. It rests the eyes from the blinding light of day.
He walked back to his home, and tapped on the door six times with his staff, unlocking the door's enchantment. He strode across the the archaic wooden planks with muffled creaking, and opened the cellar door. Torches, mounted on the ancient stone walls with iron lattices, illuminated themselves as he descended the stairs; at the bottom, a dusty cellar-room from eras passed was shrouded in darkness and mystery. When Saorhin reached the final stone step, the room illuminated, revealing old wooden chests and crates, heavy oak tables, wicker chairs and oak benches, and piles of books and weathered old papers. There were no windows; the room was well below ground, and the walls were a meter thick and enchanted for the use of wizards some milennium ago.
Saorhin sat down, and began searching through his extensive collection of ancient documents, full of legends and incantations. flipping through them, he read them through the majority of the night, until he came upon what he desired. A few diagrams were jotted down on centuries-old parchment, yellowed with age and threatening to disintegrate. He meditated upon his thoughts, drawing plans from his mind, busy, yet idle, as if waiting for someone.
A draft blew through the room, despite the still, stale air of the ancient chamber, and then the room became deathly silent. The silence lasted for a moment, the stillness seeming to suck the air out of the chamber. Saorhin worried that he would not come, but what he saw diminished his fears.
"You have called upon me, stranger?" A voice like the whistling of a November gale was released from a gaunt, frail, figure. It was translucent, and white as the snow of a frigid, winter's morning. It wore a beard and thin gray hair over a mummified skull of a head, floated two inches off the ground, and smelt of death. Saorhin smiled a cold smile,
"Yes, friend. We have much work to do."
YOU ARE READING
Treachery!
FantasyA kingdom is falling apart as a calculating wizard plots its downfall.
