The violent pattering of the rain on the window awoke Skrilliant with a start. He sighed and rolled over in his bed to look at the clock on the left wall. It read 11:47 AM, nearly five hours late for his weekly check-in on his home city, Vesria's, repair. It can wait, he thought as he looked into the mirror on the nightstand. With a grimace, he attempted to flatten the mess atop his head with a paw. His efforts turning fruitless, he sat up and dragged his paws downstairs where he expected to find his advisor, Dewdrop. To his surprise, it was not Dewdrop that awaited him, but a strange old wolf munching on a piece of toast in the kitchen.
"Who the hell are you?!" Skrilliant yelped in surprise. The old wolf turned to him, toast crumbs falling from his mouth.
The wolf sitting in the kitchen before him was very large, and by the looks of it, in his late fifties, a very old age for wolves. He was covered in black fur, and along his back were several vivid purple spikes running from his head to his tail. Even more striking than the spikes were the scars, and the old wolf was seemingly covered in them on his right side. On his eye were two scars that looked as if they hadn't healed all the way, causing his right eye to be partially shut. On his snout was one particularly nasty one, going almost from his lip to his nose. He had a rancid smell about him, the smell of rotting things. His tail was tipped with purple, starting light and turning a darker hue as it came nearer to the base of the tail. His neck and head were adorned with a shiny silver crown and neckpiece. They were embedded with several deep purple sapphires in the shape of ovals and gleamed in the midday light of Skrilliant's living room.
In a mangled voice, the wolf replied,
"Oh, thank god it's you! The las' two places I was at, the phantoms weren't very hospitable, they only let me eat fruit! Yuck." He swallowed the piece of toast in his mouth and blinked at Skrilliant expectantly.
Skrilliant merely stood at the foot of the staircase with a shocked look on his face, trying to comprehend the situation. The old wolf cleared his throat and looked around awkwardly.
"Aren't you gonna ask who I am?"
"I-I already did.." Skrilliant stuttered, a look of suspicion crossing his face.
"Oh, well, m'name's Memorian, King of the Phantoms!" He gestured dramatically to himself.
Skrilliant blinked once and shook his head.
"How can you be the phantom king, I am!"
"Yeah, I know. I came here 'cause I thought you might be able to use some help," Memorian said, cramming another piece of toast into his mouth.
"Err, sorry, but I don't need any help. Especially from the likes of... You," Skrilliant said, looking in disgust at the bits of toast and saliva dripping from his mouth. Memorian stopped chewing and took a long look at Skrilliant.
"Listen kid, lemme tell you something. You can't do anything alone. Never. You can't defeat anyone on your own. I learned that the hard way. So I suggest, if you want to actually beat the Shamans for good, you'll get off your high horse and accept my help. I know y' need it, especially after your waifu went ker-splat."
Skrilliant's haunches raised in defiance. "How do you know about that?! Who told you?!"
"Calm down, baby cakes, nobody told me. I have a way of just sorta... Knowing what goes on around in Jamaa. Call it a gift, kid. But in the meantime, I know when I'm needed, especially where you phantoms are concerned. I can read you like an open book," he growled, narrowing his eyes and leaning forward menacingly.
"Then prove it old man," Skrilliant scoffed defiantly, "Prove that you really can." He sat down on the stairs with his nose upturned.
"Whatever you say, your highness," Memorian yawned. He sat up from the low stool he was sitting on and padded confidently over to Skrilliant. He leaned forward and took a long look into Skrilliant's eyes, all the while Skrilliant leaning back uncomfortably.
"Well kid, you were born into a family of just you and your parents (I can tell by your mannerisms), you're really antisocial to say the least, and you had a... Wife? No, girlfriend. She must've died, (you've got a lot of sadness, I see plainly), and your magic control is... Well to put it bluntly, you have barely any control over it all. I can tell by the rapid color shifts, obviously revealing your mood." He added, "You've got a lot of anger from bottled-up grief. That's really not good for your health."
Skrilliant sat on the stairway, dumbfounded. He realized his mouth was agape and closed it as the old wolf named Memorian sauntered back into the kitchen.
"How... How can you tell all that?" He said in a weak voice.
"There's a lot you have left to learn, dumb-nut. That's why I'm here, to teach you," Memorian replied, spreading honey on yet another piece of toast. "Now c'mon, have some brunch," he said, offering Skrilliant a piece of his half-eaten toast.
Skrilliant refused as politely as he could manage and stepped forward into the living room. "Why are you here? What are my plans to you?" he asked.
"Well kid, your plans of revenge I've known for quite some time. As for teaching you, that's exactly why. I don't want anyone to pick up on those plans as easily as I did, especially Mira. You know of her, correct?" Skrilliant nodded. "Good. Well, her and I have quite an erm, complicated relationship, and I really don't want her to get all mixed up in this mess," Memorian continued with a faraway look in his eyes.
"But... I thought it was she who ordered the attack on Vesria?" Skrilliant asked confusedly.
"Oh, no, that was entirely the fault of that retard wolf, Greely. Mira has almost nothing to do with that attack," Memorian said, a defensive tone poorly hidden by a veil of indifference.
Skrilliant suspected there was more going on there than Memorian let on, but for one reason or another, he decided not to look into it. "So, how do you know my plans?" He asked suspiciously.
"'Really can't call those little scraps of treason a plan, though, can we? Going into the Shaman's hideout and attacking them? Did you really expect that to work?" Memorian asked passively. Skrilliant sighed and shook his head. "Well, I know of your plot for revenge through a little trick I caught from Zios," he said, an amused look spreading across his face as Skrilliant looked more and more confused.
"I'll explain the details when I'm teaching you, but it's basically feeling the earth, and all the energy flowing through it. When you listen hard enough, you can hear and feel whatever there is that lives and thinks. When I discovered your plans, I was hoping to find where my next meal was hopping around in the woods. Revenge though, is juicier than rabbits, so I came down to Vesria. Except, y'know... It's destroyed. So I gave up for a few months and killed time in the caves surrounding the city." He finished, scratching his ear with a broad hind paw.
Skrilliant thought for a moment, then asked, "So, if you say my plans aren't any good, then what do you suggest?"
"So, I was thinking we could get right down to business, since I have lots to do in other parts now-a days." Memorian said, casually twirling a knife suspended in the air with levitation. "If you have any maps or anything lying around here, that'd be great," he continued. Skrilliant nodded and walked upstairs to retrieve a map from his bedroom.
He came down a minute later, his fur looking more reasonably managed and carrying a map in his jaws. Memorian grunted in approval and spread the map of Jamaa across the dark oak coffee table in the living room.
He pointed to a spot right where the statue of Mira, the great blue heron, was on the map. "That's where the entrance to the city is, yes?" Skrilliant nodded in reply. "You see, the Shamans still don't know about the passage, but I have a sneaking suspicion that Greely's onto us. Before he actually finds any way into it though, we need a preeminent strike so as to minimize the threat. For that," Memorian continued slowly, "I think we'll need to capture Greely. How, though, I have no idea..." his voice trailed off.
"There is someone in my army who I think has the skills necessary," Skrilliant commented. Memorian's ears pricked in interest.
"Who?" he asked.
"Admiral Shara. She has close ties with Greely, and the motives to do her job well. I think she's the one we should entrust with his capture," Skrilliant said. Memorian nodded, pondering the idea.
"I'll keep that in mind, but for now," he said, turning back to the map, "I think we need to find a suitable place to hold him, as well as a few hundred phantoms to guard in case anything goes wrong."
"And after that?" Skrilliant asked.
"After that, we try reasoning with the citizens of Jamaa, with perhaps a few bribes if necessary. If that doesn't work, then we take over Jamaa by force." Memorian said with a gleam in his eye. I like the idea, Skrilliant thought. Suspicion sneaked into his thoughts after a few seconds of pondering, however, and he eyed Memorian as he stared at the map.
"After we take over, what will you do?" he asked.
Memorian thought for a moment, then replied, "Y'know, I don't think I really want anything out of this. I've had my share of ruling, and I think I'll leave it to the younger generation this time around." he winked. Skrilliant laid his ears back in surprise.
"You mean, you want nothing out of this?"
Memorian smiled and nodded. He stopped midway through a nod and opened his eyes as a new idea struck him. He then said slowly, "Unless... Perhaps you could leave Mira's custody to me?"
Skrilliant was surprised by the question. "Why?" he asked, trying to mask the suspicion in his voice.
Memorian shrugged. "No reason. I mean, if you want her, I don't mind."
"Why would I want custody of Mira?" Skrillian asked, taken slightly aback. Memorian just shrugged once more in reply. I don't see how it could cause any harm... Skrilliant thought. "Well, I suppose, if you want her custody, you may take it."
Memorian tried to conceal a smile by looking hard at the map. He cleared his throat, "So, erm, after that, we command the phantom army from here," he pointed to a spot west of the forbidden mountains, "down to here," he pointed to Jamaa Township. "Then we move east to the ocean." He said, seemingly satisfied.
"What of the Lost Temple? That's the Shaman's stronghold; we'll never be able to break through the defenses without considerable loss," Skrilliant said, exposing a loophole in Memorian's plan.
He scratched his chin, considering other options. Another idea came to him as he looked at the map closer. "There's another tunnel leading here from the Zios statue, right?" Skrilliant nodded once more. "Well, we can lead another faction of the army into the Temple from there, which will get their attention and cause them to focus on the Southern border... From there we can bring the other faction down and attack from the North. By then, assuming our timing is right, we'll have Greely captured and the Shamans incapacitated." He smiled and looked at Skrilliant, who was still deep in thought. "Whaddya say, kid?" Memorian asked.
"It's a good plan... But I still have doubts on the capture of Greely... And what if Mira or the citizens interfere?"
"Then we'll have to attack them to get through to the Shamans. But from as much as I know about the Shamans, they're proud, and would never use the citizens as a shield. Mira, on the other hand, is kind of a wildcard..." Memorian said, his voice trailing off in thought. After about a minute of pondering silence, he said quietly, "I don't think we'll have to worry about her though, as long as your army is competent enough to handle themselves without my guidance, and you can lead without falling apart," his words directed at Skrilliant.
"I'm confident that my army, as well as myself, are fully capable of leading this attack," Skrilliant replied indignantly.
"Better safe than sorry," Memorian said casually.
"What are you saying, that I can't command my armies?" Skrilliant demanded, sitting up from the coffee table.
"Nah, just wondering if you'd have the proper reaction to me insulting you," Memorian said, a devilish gleam in his eye. A look of confusion spread across Skrilliant's face.
"Hey kid, don't worry, you pass, haha! Being assertive is a sign of a good leader, y'know," Memorian smirked. Skrilliant gave an exasperated sigh and sat back down next to the coffee table.
"So, then it's decided?" Skrilliant asked.
"Well, I'm gonna have to work out some of the kinks later (if ya know what I mean)" Memorian said with a wink. Skrilliant's ears twitched as he looked out the window. It was nearly sundown, and the shadows were growing ever longer as the sun disappeared over the mouth of the cave. He realized with a pang that he hadn't eaten since he awoke several hours earlier. Memorian smiled at Skrilliant's obvious look of hunger and motioned to the kitchen, where a bowl of fruit and a loaf of bread was waiting on the counter.
Skrilliant padded to the kitchen with an eager expression and ate the fruit and bread ravenously. Memorian kept examining the map.
Memorian frowned at a large blank spot on the map, East of the Forbidden Mountains, where his homeland lay. He sent forth a burst of magic from his mind and filled the blank space with a large, dark forest and two cities, Nakori and Sleithe. They were both entirely inhabited by phantoms, but a large portion of the city Nakori was inhabited by refugees from the Shaman's last attacks. It had a stronger economy and better trade than most places (excluding Jamaa Township), and was the crossroads of three well-traveled trade routes. The city Sleithe, on the other hand, was a larger city with a strong military presence and many of the finest warriors in Jamaa. The forests surrounding both cities were considered deadly and unlucky, and very few Jamaaisian citizens dared enter it, and even fewer escaped alive. Those were the deadly forests in which Memorian called home, and he knew them better than almost anyone else in Jamaa.
Memorian's attention was snapped back to the present as Skrilliant sat down on the other side of the table and examined the map. He gaped at the new addition to the top left corner and asked,
"How did you put that there?" Memorian only shrugged in response. He pointed to the two cities and asked,
"You know of them, correct?" Skrilliant nodded. He had been to the city of Nakori three times with his parents on vacation when he was younger. Memorian motioned to the city of Sleithe and said, "If we can get enough phantoms to join our cause against the Shamans, which I'm positive that we can, we'll be able to amass a larger army than the one you have now. We could have troops numbering in the thousands if we're careful about it," he said, an excited gleam in his eye. His tail unconsciously started wagging, and Skrilliant looked at it curiously. Skrilliant never had a tail of his own, and he had only observed the behaviour in Felicity before. He promptly chose to ignore the painful memories it brought back and looked down at the map.
"If indeed there are that many troops in Sleithe," Skrilliant said slowly, "Then how are we going to get them from there to here? And when?"
Memorian paused for a moment and said simply, "I have some ideas. In the meantime kid, I think you'd better get that assassin you were talking about. We have some issues to discuss." Skrilliant was slightly taken aback at the command, for indeed it was a command. That is servant's work! Skrilliant thought spitefully. Nonetheless, he walked out of the house without a word.
The pattering rain had lessened since the morning, but Skrilliant still had to move quickly so as not to get drenched. He entered the cave which contained Shara's temporary house, puddles accumulating on the newly-built porch. He grasped the knocker on the round door and banged on it three times. A minute later, a servant phantom opened the door, and with a squeak, recognized the Phantom King.
"P-Please come in, your highness!" The phantom stuttered, ushering him inside nervously. "May I be so bold as to inquire your business here?" he asked formally.
"I'm here to see Shara. Tell her it's urgent," he replied curtly. The phantom nodded then bowed out of the room, leaving Skrilliant alone in the living room. He looked with interest at a single large painting of a beautiful cave on the opposite wall. It was adorned in a blue light and covered in glowing blue and green crystals, with a pool of shimmering water on the left. A rustle from the hallway caught his attention and he looked over his shoulder. Shara stepped into the living room, a mildly confused expression on her face.
"Hi, did you need something?" She asked in a high-pitched voice.
"Actually, yes," Skrilliant replied. "If you could come over to my quarters, I'd feel safer speaking of it." Shara nodded and followed Skrilliant to the door. She paused a moment, then yapped over her shoulder, "Lightshade! Tell Nutik I'll be back in a while!" Skrilliant winced at her high pitched bark, still very unaccustomed to the noises that Jamaaisian wolves made. His voice was considerably lower, with an undertone which sounded like static from a television.
They continued ducking under the caves to escape the rain until they came to Skrilliant's house, a rather small dwelling with decaying wood and a thatched roof. It had a round door with several claw markings on it, and the windows were sprinkled with dew from the previous night's storm.
Skrilliant opened the door with magic and gestured for Shara to enter. She stepped inside and Skrilliant closed the door. Shara waited at the entrance, uncertain as to why she was summoned. Skrilliant motioned to the couch and she sat down. She looked across the room with interest at the old wolf sitting across the table. He flashed a twisted smile at her.
"Skrilliant, would you please leave us? We have important matters to discuss," Memorian said. Skrilliant's ears lay back indignantly.
"If you have anything to say, I have a right to hear it as well as she," he growled, motioning to Shara.
Memorian scowled in reply and said, "Skrilliant! Leave us, now!" A menacing tone entered his voice and his hackles rose. Skrilliant saw that he had no chance of winning any fight against the old wolf, who was easily twice his size. He sighed and lowered his head, laying his ears flat. He padded upstairs with a glare at Memorian, and disappeared into the darkness.
After several hours of listening to the quiet murmurs between Shara and Memorian, Skrilliant was finally able to overcome his anger and fall into the embrace of sleep.