[Partially Edited]
Jason never had too little power. It just wasn't possible. Jon didn't deserve to die, knowing that someone could have healed him, but had wasted his power. Strictly speaking, he hadn't wasted his power, but it would seem so to the dying person.
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Lirya stuttered, "I'm sorry, Jon." Her tears flowed, "I wish we had gotten to know each other."
She knelt by him, her tears dripping onto his gasping form.
Jon stared down at his body in shock. His hair was all messed up and he was too pale. He wondered if it was too late to take out a comb and make his hair look decent. He looked so odd, it was no wonder that the girl had been frightened of him. He looked like an icy being. It was only then that he wondered why he could see his body. He looked down at himself. His smoky translucent body was what he saw. Jon had seen so many strange things in his life that he was only mildly surprised. He blinked, then shrugged. If death was his destiny, then so be it. If the gods willed it, then so must it be. So must it be. He worshipped all of the gods, but in particular, he worshipped Iside, the Winter goddess. He did not know why, but he felt some sort... connection... to Iside. Perhaps it was his icy features, for Iside had raven black hair, the snow whitest skin, and stormy grey eyes. She was a lady of Cold. Or perhaps it was his icy skin. He was never warm to the touch. Inside, however, he was perfectly fine. He snapped his mind back to the present. Already he could feel the tug of the Ether, slowly becoming more insistent.
"Jason... Can't you at least try? Please! He doesn't deserve this!"
Heartwarming, if Jon's heart were not as cold and frozen as the rest of his body.
"No... energy... you... heal... Jon... K-Key... Guard..."
Jason was coughing, exhausted and back in his freshly laundered tunic with the grey surcoat on top.
"Who? There's not been a Key Guard in, like, forever." Lirya cried, despairing.
"You... Key... Guard... Aura..." Jason summoned a huge breath, "Heal him Lirya! You'retheonlyonewhocan!"
Then he collapsed, unconscious.
"J-Jason?!" Lirya asked, fearful of what she would hear.
"Right. I can do it. Jon needs my help. I WILL do it... " Jon heard her mutter, gathering her courage.
She closed her eyes and stood erect. Her breathing relaxed. She almost stopped breathing, then her eyes opened. They were a startling electric blue, and they seemed to glow, radiating pure power. She was cloaked in pure blue light, then it faded away. Lirya was wearing a purple cloak, outlined in gold with a hood and a dress of white material, decorated with golden symbols. She had a golden sash tied loosely around her hips and a white staff decorated with golden swirls and runes. She was outlined in a powerful blue aura. Lirya swung her staff in a complex series of backhand, forehand, stabs and slices, creating a blur of dangerous light. Selsian could only gap in amazement at the sudden change. After all, just moments before, she could not have had any idea whatsoever about how to wield a quarterstaff. Now she was wielding it with ease, like years of practice would have allowed her to use it. Also, she looked powerful in the getup, powerful and innocent, if such a mixup was possible. She let her arms hang loosely and closed her eyes again. Then she dropped the staff but seemed not to hear it clatter on the ground as she gasped and her eyes flew open. They gleamed solid golden and she raised her hands and pointed them at Jon's crumpled form. A blue light erupted from her hands and flew into his body. The body shuddered and rose slightly. Jon watched and felt a huge tugging sensation. He gave into it and found himself back in his old body, healing from the wound. He opened his eyes and saw Lirya looking at him with shock.
"You're alive!" She said, then her eyes widened, "... elf..."
She knew! All his life he strove to hide his terrible secret, but now this slip of a girl had unearthed his deepest secret simply by looking at him. What kind of power did she possess to be able to do that?
"What kind of power do you possess, girl?" He demanded hoarsely.
She shuffled her feet. "I don't really know... I've never done this before. Why do you ask, elf filth?!" She demanded hotly. So the rift between the humans and elves had not been resolved yet, Jon noted.
"I am not 'Elf Filth' as you so colourfully put it-"
"-No, you're even worse! You're a filthy halfbreed! Don't try to deny it! I have seen it!"
Jon sighed. All his life, that was what he had been hiding from. So what if his mother had been an elf of stunning beauty? They had loved each other, his mother and father. He, however, was the reason that his mother had disappeared to Silvardor again after his birth. He was lucky that he had only inherited the slanted eyes and icy beauty from his mother. If he had gotten the pointed ears, then he would really have been screwed. No one hired a half-elf. That way, he could pass himself off reasonable well as a human. They claimed that he had been born with the facial differences, but that he was a human. Why could they not just accept that he was partially an elf? His personality was the same.
It had gotten harder to hide when he started to get powers - running like the wind, freezing lakes and being stronger than ever. He thought that it was part of his elfish heritage and perhaps some of it was, but it was really his Guardian powers. Every guardian had them, and when he suspected, he entered his family's vast library and read the books on the subjects of the Guardians. He found quite a lot of information. He tried to make his powers work in many ways - running in front of racing horses, letting the town bullies corner him, cutting himself with knives and swords and punching himself in the face to see if he got any pain inflicted reaction. Mostly, he just came to the healer with broken limbs and cuts and bruises. He got to know Maek personally after the first few visits.
However, nothing really happened until his only friend was threatened. Shaela was a delicate girl. She had been cornered by cutthroats, bent on silencing her forever. Jon had been passing by when he heard her screams, hastily muffled. His better hearing had picked out the sound it was unmistakably Shaela. He had drawn his sword and rushed to her aid, unaware that one of the three cutthroats had been on watch. The cutthroat had smashed the hilt of his sword into Jon's head, and he had been knocked out for a few moments. When he came to, he was tied together with Shaela. She was slapping his head lightly.
Later, the leader, a man called "Snake" had cut Shaela lose. He had backed her against the wall and drawn his knife, pressing it to her throat. She stopped screaming and concentrated on breathing. He had said that they were under orders to kill the girl by a "Boss".
"... So it's nothin' personal, girl, but simply my job." Snake had said, slowly pressing the knife harder to her throat.
At that, Jon had exploded. His bonds froze and broke, and everything was bathed in a silvery glow. He stood up and was for an instant covered in the silver light, then he was covered head to toe in silver armor with a slim silver sword and a bracelet with a ruby set in it. His eyes had glowed murderous grey and he looked at Snake. The other cutthroats had fled.
"Don't go a step further if you value her life!" Snake had shouted in a shaking voice.
Jon didn't answer but had raised his right arm. He pointed his index finger and Snake and a stream of silver light flew out. It had hit Snake's sword and froze it completely. Then, with a flick of his finger, Jon had shattered the ice sword. He had walked to Snake, but to Snake, it seemed as if Jon had teleported. Jon had taken a firm hold on Snake's arm and lifted him up with one arm, seemingly with no effort at all. Then he had thrown him clear across to the other side of the alley that they were in. Snake had hit the wall with a sickening CRUNCH and lay still.
"Have you... killed... him?" Shaela had asked in a trembling voice.
"No." Had Jon said coolly, "If I wanted him dead, I would have thrown him with more force."
He had stepped over to where Snake lay, desperately trying to suck air into his lungs. His leg was bent an odd angle and his face was caked in blood.
"Who is your boss?" He had asked menacingly.
Snake just lay and wheezed. Then he had felt an iron grip on his throat and moaned. Not the knight in silver armor again!
"Yes. It's me."
He had heard the voice before he heard the SNAP of his neck. Then everything went black.
His spirit stepped out of his body and looked at his killer. It was a mere youngster. He could not have been more than sixteen. That was the last thought before Snake departed to the Etherworld.
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"... and that's when I saw his spirit rise out of his body!"
Jon finished his tale to his friends who sat around the campfire in the woods outside Doxford. His eyes were wide, for he had not killed anyone before and so had not known that spirits depart for the Ether and the slayer can see it happen.
Jason strokes his chin.
"It's true. I saw it too when I killed a guard."
Jon breathes a sigh of relief.
"So I'm not going mad, or anything?" He asks.
"Oh, we don't know about that. You could still be mad." Jason says.
"What?"
"Kidding." Jason laughs, "I'm sure that you're fine."
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The next morning, they rode off into the woods towards a remote fishing village. They had planned it all the day before. They would travel to the fishing village, Seliue, to hire a boat and someone to ferry them to Silvardor. Jon had to talk to his mother, and Lirya and the others had to find a safe place to lay low.
Jon had spent a lot of his time in the forests of Sanobar so he knew his way around and directed them in the direction of a house of a wizened old man who should be able to help them.
Hours later, they rode out into a neat clearing, with a small makeshift house in the center. It looked as if no one had lived there for a few days, at least. It had started to snow, and there were clear tracks in the snow.
Jon frowned, "He should have kept a fire lit. He could catch a cold."
"Let's take a closer look, shall we?" Jason motions them to follow him closer to the house. The door creaks when Jason forces it open and they instantly saw that the interior of the house had not been used recently, for most things were decked in a thin layer of dust and muck. Jason had brushed his hand along a table and quickly snatched it away in disgust.
"Ew." He wrinkled his nose at the terrible smell that came from the kitchen. He peered into the kitchen and frowned. Food was splattered across tables and walls, even the roof.
"Uh, guys? There's been a food fight in here." He called out to them.
"You're kidding, right?" Dey hurried over to see, "Nope. No kidding, a total mess."
She narrowed her eyes at the mess, "It looks like my mother's kitchen after my brothers have been through it."
"Brothers?" Lirya asked as she walked into the kitchen.
"Yeah. Daryn and Samuh. None of them were gifted. T-They were outcasts in our family and every other... Eventually, they ran away." Dey blinked rapidly to shake the tears that gathered at her eyes. Lirya saw and brushed some dust off a chair and sat Dey down.
"It's okay to cry, Dey. No one is immune to everything. Remember, we're your friends and we'll take care of you. You don't have to take all of our burdens."
Dey allowed her tear to slide down her cheek. Soon she was sobbing into Lirya's shoulder. Jason and Selsian were the strong, muscular men, and they had to do the manly task of sweeping the whole place down so that it was livable again. Jon searched for any clues as to the whereabouts of the old man. The house, looking so small and old on the outside was really large and comfortable on the inside. Most of the house was built underground, though. Jason and Selsian had both gotten brooms and had swept away most of the dust in the living room and the bedrooms where the friends would sleep the night. After all, it was getting dark and the wolves were howling at the silvery moon, high in the sky. Dey had cried for a while, with Lirya comforting her and now had made the kitchen presentable and had cooked a marvelous meal for the friends with what she could find. They now sat, enjoying the food, while discussing how to proceed next.
"I suggest that we keep pressing through this forest to Seliue." Jon expressed his opinion. He had not found much evidence from the old man, other than some old texts that he had brought up. Some of the papers were sprinkled with blood.
"Well, you got us this far, so I trust you." Lirya looked around at the fire crackling merrily in the hearth and the warm, sleepy feeling of contentment that everyone felt. The others nodded their heads in agreement.
"Can I see the papers that you brought up, Jon?" Jason asked, peering at them. One was a thick, leather bound book with a pale gold and almost illegible title. The other was a map with some writing on it and a bloody piece of paper.
"Sure," Jon said and handed them over, careful not to touch the bloody paper. Jason scanned the contents of the paper and tossed it aside.
"Just some stupid poem."
Then he opened the book.
"Guys? Can you have a look at this?" He showed them the worn and crumbling book.
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"Many would not believe me when I say that all that I'm about to write about really happened, so this book is the sole copy in existence unless someone from the royal armies also decided to do the same. This seems like a tall tale, but it is a true tale, however unbelievable and I would not be telling this but it is an extraordinary story. This story is special and cannot be hidden and forgotten when I breathe my last, so I have devoted a few years of my remaining years to complete this recollection of this important piece of Dargon's history.
There are five kingdoms, Sanobar, Silvardor, Handemon, Westik and Anhua. Sanobar was ruled by the wise and benevolent queen Sabona. The Queen's husband died a while after they married, leaving her the sole ruler, with no heir. She later remarried and produced one heir to the royal throne of Sanobar. The young prince grew up to become the strong king that he is today. She was advised by the five Guardians of the Crystals and the Guardian of the Key. The Golden Guardian can control energy and can manipulate the essence of the world. They look like they have spent a lifetime working in the glare of the hot sun somewhere in the barren Anhua. The Silver Guardian can control frost, is immune to temperatures and look like they have been frozen and frostbitten. The Emerald Guardian can control the very earth of Dargon and are always one of the sons and daughters of Nature. The Ruby Guardian can control fire and occasionally lose control of their tempers and roast someone unfortunate. As mentioned, they have very short tempers and are always Earthborn. The Sapphire Guardian controls water and can change to a waterform, where they can move faster than light through the water, or they can teleport to a different body of water, no matter how small.
Years ago, Demons escaped the Abyss and summoned the Lord of Chaos himself. The Chaos, Haert, was set free in the world and much that was evil was done and terrible things, unspeakable things were done to those who were faithful to the mighty god, Pelos. The demons, under orders from Chaos, created armies and stormed Dargon, slaughtering and plundering at will, destroying Anhua utterly. All seemed lost, and those still faithful prayed to Pelos for help. Some even prayed to Aeliyas, but no one bothered to pray to the ever-studious Gilan, the god of neutrality. It was a time of chaos and panic.
I have experienced it all personally when my commander ordered us to march to the plains of Suf-orta to assist the armies fighting against the demons and Haert. My name is Mertus Silvertread, a loyal soldier of the Queen Sabona's royal army.
King Kashius was just a teenager when he ascended the throne after his mother died, insisting on joining the combat and fighting alongside her loyal subjects. She fought like a wildcat until there was a ring of dead demons around her and the ground, as well as her armour, was soaked in blood. In fact, she fought so well that the god of Chaos himself took interest in that mortal queen who caused so much disruption in his ranks. He caused thunder to rumble, even when the sky was completely cloudless. He appeared before her in armour so black it seemed to make the even night seem like twilight. He unsheathed his broadsword and attacked her. She fought back like a lioness, but she still was no match for a god. She was mortal, but never went down without a fight. Indeed, they fought long and hard before he struck the blow that broke her sword. Still, she fought on, this time with her bare fists and landed a good solid punch in Chaos's godly nose. He roared in rage and slashed his sword at her. She ducked, but not in time, and was cruelly gutted. The god then used his godly strength to toss her body clear across the battlefield and into the ranks of the royal army. You can imagine that it caused quite a distraction when they realized what had hit them. The broken, mangled and very much dead body of the late queen Sabona. Practically unrecognizable, her body was bent a very odd angle.
The guardians, the guardian of Anhua in particular, were very close to the queen, advising her during her reign, and when they realized what had happened, they gave a roar of anguish and pure defiance. The golden guardian, Reyneld, let out an earthly howl of anger, so overpowering that many dropped their swords. He transformed in a flash of golden light and dropped off the cliff they had been standing on. He easily jumped thirty meters and landed with a catlike grace, running into the fray almost instantly after having landed. He swung his mighty sword and instantly half a dozen enemies were wounded or dead. Reyneld continued like that until he left a trail of destruction and he was fighting in the heart of the demon armies. He only stopped with his sword at a demon general's throat because the general had managed to croak that he had an important message.
"You the Golden Guardian?"
Tarbork, the general, asked hoarsely. Reyneld simply nodded, grimly.
"Well. I tell you this before you die. We destroyed Anhua. Your place. Gone. All gone." Tarbork laughed and his army jeered.
"No!" Reyneld yelled, his pain and sadness clear in the echoing cry of despair. All that he had fought for was gone. His life, his world, his kingdom. Even his title was simply a title now, with no meaning. "Dragonlord." They called him if anyone had survived. The body stood up for a moment more before collapsing on the ground, spewing blood from the neck. He had no further use in this world. He slashed his sword at the demon general, taking his head. Then he decided. Reyneld manipulated to the very essence of Dargon. He called the Key from its resting place. He called it into his outstretched palm. A shimmering orb of bright white light shone in his outstretched hand. The light shone so brightly that all across the battlefield, demons, and humans alike stopped fighting and looked to see what it was. Sword hands dropped and weapons fell to the ground. So powerful was Reyneld's magic that everyone stood mesmerized by his voice.
He held the Key up for all to see. Then he shouted out the words of magic. Everything glittered. Then an invisible force drove into all the demons. Every horny, old devil was thrown clear across the battlefield and back into that hole that they crawled out from. Then as soon as it had appeared, the rift closed, hiding the horrors down below. The Abyss. Many thought that it was underground, but it was not so. The Abyss existed on a different plane, a different universe. A pale blue light shone. It came from a circle of light, but when you looked into it, you saw monsters, you saw the Abyss. Then the light disappeared. No one knew what that meant. Was it an omen, if so, for good or for evil times up ahead?
The royal army rose, confused, and gathered weapons and dead or wounded soldiers back to the Druid healers. Many wounded died before reaching treatment, but a few survived with scars if they were lucky. Robes swishing around their feet, the druid healers walked among the dead and wounded, assisting wherever they could. The looked like elves, but for the fact that they were all ancient, old crumblies. No human in living history had seen a druid youngster, ever. Perhaps they hid them until they turned ancient or perhaps something else happened. I for one, do not know."
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"Druids? Interesting. Read on, Jason." Lirya said, resting her elbows on the table with her head in her hands.
"I worship... can't read that... Beware those of pointed fangs... this part is smudged... monsters roam... darn this paper is torn there... night. Midnight... I'll just skip to the part where it is legible... strikes..." Jason read.
"Read on, please?"
Jason frowned. "The page is just ripped off. There is nothing more that I can read."
"Can I see. Perhaps I can-" Jon start to say when a sharp rapping on the door interrupted them. They all rose and grabbed their weapons, while Selsian opened the door. A blast of snow flew into the warm and toasty house from the blizzard raging outside. Nearly a dozen cloaked figures stood outside the door.
"Who goes there?" Jason called out.
A muffled voice answered. "We are but innocent travelers. Night has fallen and we were ambushed by bandits, who ran off with our gear. We were very fortunate to see the light from your house."
"Oh, this is not my house. We are simply borrowing it. " He said and stepped aside to let them pass. One person walked up to the front porch, but no further. Jason stared, a little unnerved.
"Why are you standing there? Welcome in."
They all walked in. They shook the snow out of their cloaks and proceeded to remove their outer, and very wet, clothing.
"We are very grateful to you."
The one who spoke removed his cloak and hung it up on the clothes pegs by the door. He had midnight black hair and pale skin. He had light rosy lips and wore black clothes. His eyes were blood red and when he smiled at them, his perfect white teeth showed. Only, two of the teeth at the corners of his lips protruded much longer than the rest.
"Who... who are you?" Lirya stuttered, after seeing his unnerving smile.
He gave the smile again. "I am one of the Strykx, better known as "vampires" to you puny mortals. I am Vesan, the lord over the Strykx." He waved his arm at the other figures undressing by the door. Some shook the snow out of their raven black hair while others hung up their wet cloaks to dry.
"These... are my companions, all Strykx. Don't try anything if you value your lives." His smile faded, replaced by hunger. His gaze wandered to Selsian, who stood frozen in a corner. Vesan strode over to him, walking with a catlike grace. Much was alike with him and a cat, especially the way they stalk their prey and toy with their food. Now Vesan cornered Selsian and closed in on him.
"I know that you mortals worship life so please excuse me for a moment. I must make an exception, for I am ever so hungry." He licked his lips and grabbed Selsian who was jolted out of his frozen paralysis only to be found in the grasp of a hungry vampire. Selsian's eyes widened in fear and he frantically tried to squirm out of Vesan's grip. Vesan only smiled and held him tighter. Selsian finaly stopped struggling and lay still, in the vampire's grip and closed his life, as if he had given up on life.
"NO! Don't give up! Selsian! Wherever you end up, I will find you!" Dey vowed, "I make this vow to Pelos and to Aeliyas that I will find you Selsian, even if I have to tear up the Ether and the Abyss to find you. Hang on, please!"
That brought a slight smile onto Selsian's face before the vampire bent down and pressed his teeth to the sensitive skin of Selsian's neck. Then the teeth punctured the skin and Selsian stiffened for a moment before going limp in Vesan's arm.
Selsian felt the teeth before they punctured his delicate skin and blood left his body in a rush. He instantly felt woozy and weak and leaned into the vampire's strong grip. His heart rate increased drastically and he knew that his heart was working overtime to get blood to every area in his body. It was no use, however, when more blood left him than the heart could replace. He felt a slight tingling in his toes and leg before he felt... nothing. Soon, he felt nothing at all, but the extreme pain in his neck. He tried to move his arm to swat at whatever was making it hurt so much, but found that he could not move many part of himself. Even his head was feeling odd. He tried to open his eyes, but found that he had no control over his muscles. That was... odd. That was the last thing he thought before his mind shut down completely. The last thing he felt was the pain in his neck lessen and disappear. Then his spirit was forced out of his body.
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Sorry for the long wait, people. I got school work too. Compensation will be this - the longest chapter I have EVER written, with 4641 words! Enjoy!