Short Stories By Anthony
Group ID: dalinar_the_dark

Dalinar Part II

Death and betrayal blanketed the chill waste that borders the blight in a haze of twilight. Air of crisp winter cold seemed almost subdued by that dark feeling creeping near the edges of awareness. Signs of the blight creeping to touch further and further south. Trees twisted and deformed, as though bent against their will toward clawing at the sky. Patches of dead and rotting plants, that never die away but pile upon themselves, forever rotting, but never rotting away. A few of those twisted trees still showed some life, and patches of green could be seen as often as those patches of rot.

Here Dalinar wandered, just outside of a small village near Fal Dara. The awkward appearance of the small ragged form approaching leaves hints of early teen clumsiness. His short steps bring him into view as he pulled back the hood of a tattered ink-black cloak. Dark brown hair fell flat around a child-like face and grey-green eyes. He appears no older than sixteen, but somthing in those eyes suggest an aged, and abitious look, as though he has seen much more than sixteen years. Somthing else tells of that death and betrayal hanging on the air. Though at first glance he seemed a child, his stance and demeanor, the very way he caries himself, disguises a moderately built body. Wearing what was once fine silver, grey and black silk garnments, with soft black leather boots. The twisted life that was the blight seemed to mirror his own existance. To him, somehow the very stench of the blight brought feelings of home, and the most wretched blight twisted forms were family. In his own mind he laughed at the sick and twisted truth of his own feelings. His laughing mixed with tears as he realized that his laughs were not in his mind. Aloud he laughed while tears streamed down his cheeks, while he clutched at his own sanity. Lost and alone in the blight, as he was once, as a child.

The mixture of laughs and sobs added an eerie feel to the greyish haze of evening, even as those sounds were choked away by the silence of the blight. He saged against what must once have been a great oak, though now blighted by evil. Looking north into the blight, he let the putrid rot and death of that wastland encompase his world for but a moment before remembering his porpose here.

He picked himself up, and walked toward the small village. The bluish dreamlike haze of evening grew darker as he neared, hinting at the dark intentions of his meeting. Nightfall nearing, he was almost longing for his chance at revenge.

"Has he arrived?"

"He will but a moment, milord."

"Excellent. You may depart."

"Aye, milord." The darkfriend stood firmly and looked at the Chosen, fear and pride were reflected in his eyes as he declared the salutation. "Loyalty and Exaltation, Hail Master Rahvin." The darkfriend bowed and left to assist the incoming member.

The Chosen's face was masked with indifference, as always, his visage didn't reflect anything that he contemplated. Rather, it radiates a persona bathed with power and intelligence.

Rahvin walked towards the window. His every step resonates with dominance as it overwhelmed the entire chamber. He stopped and rested his hands on the window's railings as he stared at the eve. It has been long time since he once admired the night for what he is and what he represents had robbed him of that simple veneration. Nevertheless, at the moment as he was alone, his being a human reflected in his handsome visage. He raised his head as if seeking for guidance at the glorious light unfolded by the vast gray. The moon with its silky touch caressed his tired face. Together with the breeze, they enveloped him with warm comfort, seemingly whispering that everything will turn out all right. Ah yes, success, you can almost touch it with its close tangibility. Indeed, cards have been drawn and now it's time to play.

"Milord..." his minion interrupted as to inform him of the boy's near and pending arrival.

"Leave me be." Rahvin said evenly without turning, his arms were crossed in his wide chest as he continued to stare absently at the crimson firmament. "You shall wait here while I meet the lad where he currently is." With that, the servant went outside as Rahvin prepared to leave...

...

The bright crescent unfolded itself from the scattered gray clouds. Its smooth caress descended within the forest as it casts eerie shadows to the untouched part of the woods. The wind played a symphony of wariness. Its chilling gloom was complimented by the swooshing sound of the trees as they sang with the breeze. Voices of minutes from the unseen furthered the murkiness of the eve. From very afar, the flicker of the village lights seemed like stars on the ground, yet it didn't eradicate the screaming silence and the creepy tunes of the eve. Dust and leaves rolled with the wind.

Rahvin bent and picked a dried leaf that was stuck in his coat. He looked at it first before crushing, and then he continued walking. His eyes glinted with the moonlight as his hair danced fancifully with the wind. His black coat covering his white shirt that was tucked in his black breeches swayed softly with the wind. Excellent he thought as he saw the young man walked towards him although the lad hasn't seen him yet.

Indeed, it is better if he meets the boy here rather in the village. Ever since the Chosen came back from the rendezvous with the other forsaken, he realized that he had been lax in his time and that he was not that prepared as he thought he was. It was now time to have a firm grip with his plans before other Chosen would come to know what he had premeditated. The boy, al'thor. He suddenly thought, another one to dispose to please the great lord. Ah But then everything is about to be organized in a fashion no one can decipher. He may not be the powerful channeller among the thirteen but he definitely is one of the cleverest. Rahvin's eyes glimmered with cunningness as his devious heart beat with intangible success. The puppeteer has indeed begun his show.

Rahvin stopped in hisracks, his visage wasn't even altered as he noticed the boy was out of sight. I have no time for this He thought as his big hands slipped inside his pockets, his coat was still dancing with the breeze that blows from time to time. Nevertheless, he knew the boy was just nearby.

Rahvin imparted with his baritone, "Unfold yourself boy. 'Tis foolishness and horrendously annoying this childish prank of yours."

Silence.

"Never worry, I am your friend. 'Tis not my intention to cause you harm." Albeit you're tempting me too. Rahvin thought as the moon hid itself again to the clouds. The forest became dark This is foolish. Rahvin surmised in his thoughts. Here am I, one of the powerful being in this cursed and misbegotten land and this lad is playing me for a fool.

Unexpectedly, the Chosen heard a twang in his right side, which is unmistakably a bow. Impressive It was the first thing Rahvin thought before he became furious. The arrow flew deadly towards Rahvin but before it even touched his skin, saidin filled the Chosen as silky thread of red enveloped his entire body. And then without so much preamble, fire shot out from the Chosen who was just nonchalantly standing and staring at a particular tree where the arrow came from. The thread of fire was then pushed powerfully by another silky thread, color white this time. Translucent white beautifully coiled with the red as air pushed a simple fireball. The ball of fire went jettisoned towards the tree and burned anything in its path, just like the arrow. Then the tree exploded.

The lad saw everything that had conspired and was dumbfounded. Strange, he felt something when he saw the man create fire out of nothing. Suddenly, the tree where he was hiding from exploded, making him ricochet away from the tree. He landed painfully in his back. He closed his eyes and groaned, but his ears were still very wary as he heard something about to fall. He opened his eyes and to his utter horrification, the burning tree was falling towards him. Shocked, mouth agape, his life flashed in front of him as he stared at his seemingly untimely death. Danel He thought as time seemed to stop. Taynla The lad continued to recollect. Roederic His mind whispered painfully as tears escaped in his eyes. Death... His thoughts concluded as the burning tree continued its way down to crush him. Suddenly, someone grabbed him forcefully from the ground and locked him in his arms, and then the man jumped sending them rolling to the ground as the the tree slammed itself on the ground. Dust, leaves, and light branches rolled in the air.

Rahvin slowly stood up. Fine act, he congratulated himself now you are mine. His mind contemplated. How very predictable He surmised. Indeed, it was his plan to wait for the lad to attack and then save him from his own doing. He could have used the one power to save him, but what he did is more personal. Hence, he is now very sure he won the confidence of the lad.

Rahvin heard the young man coughed. "Are you alright?" The Chosen's face changed from a frigid visage to a concerned look. Not that he has too, ofcourse. It's all part of the ruse.

Lying on the ground, the lad stopped coughing and stared at the man in front of him, the man whom he was trying to kill awhile ago. As the events were digested in his thoughts, the lad stared at the man with slight horror reflected in his face. Rahvin extended his hand to assist the lad as he was trying to stand up.

The boy though twice before acknowledging the help the man was giving. He stared at Rahvin and saw the dirt that was smudged in his expensive and erstwhile clean shirt. Indeed, he had saved him. If not for him... There's no time to feel grateful the lad thought as he stared at the face of the man, so welcoming, kind, and gentle. With that, the lad took the hand of Rahvin. As he was standing up, the lad heard him in a pleading voice, "Trust me, my young man. Trust me."

Pieces of the tree remain, still burning, and bathing the scene in the orange glow of fire. Here, amongst the odd mix of wilderness, and the stench of the blight, the flames and ash seem to foretell the propose of the meeting. The destructive forces that are about to be put into motion, mirrored by the glowing ashes falling amongst the death and life around. The two halves of the source represented by the stark white of the snow covered ground, and the pine trees growing nearby. Yet clouded and deranged by the patched of rot from the blight creeping south, and hinting death and destruction by the flecks of orange wafting on the chill breeze, and embers still alight melting the snow. Dalinar stands and brushes himself off, looking this stranger over suspiciously.

Unable to resist connecting the kindness shown by this stranger, and how it reminds him of the only father he ever knew. Remembering the father who died at his hand. None before had shown him kindness, and none since. He rolled the thought over in his mind, trying to decide what to make of this man, who seemed to stumble into the wrong place at the wrong time. Still anticipating his meeting, which has been interrupted by this conundrum before him.

Stepping just out of arms reach on instinct, from the many unfriendly encounters as a child, he nervously responds. "Why should I trust you?" Battling a storm in his own mind, of associating this man with his father, and the expected meeting to get the revenge promised him. He glances around, hoping the man hasn't changed his mind already, especially after seeing such a display.

The ash slowly dying, and the embers of the fallen tree fading, leaving only the bluish tint of moonlight on the horizon, to illuminate the two strangers. After even considering trusting again, and speaking that very word, he is reminded of his past, and the violent anger and fury he still holds. That very contempt for the world, and desire to revenge the pain and anguish he has experience, ticking him slowly closer to fanatic vengeance. As the orange glow from the tree fades, darkening the world around, his passion for bringing pain and destruction grows. Still, that turmoil of trust within him writhes against the fanaticism, and he is still left undecided about this stranger. The only truth he knows, the longer this stranger stays, the less likely he will be of making his meeting, and thus the less likely he will be able to exact his revenge.

Rahvin forces a smile despite his growing impatience with this child, "A good point," with a friendly and inviting inflection to his voice, "when in truth, you should trust no-one." Noticing the boy's fear of trust, and playing on it with the ease of years of experience. But, this game will last only so long before he tires of playing to the fool.

Reassessing the stranger and considering for a moment, that this very well could be the man he was supposed to meet. "I am Dalinar Anshahl," unsure, though oddly feeling some trust for this man, against his better judgement, and instincts. He reaches out to offer a hand to shake in greeting, though still reserved. "I am supposed to be meeting someone here.... " unsure what more to say, as anything more could send him to a very swift death if said to the wrong person.

"And you have found him, or more, I've found you." Rahvin smailed at the boy. "Go to the Foxtail Inn to meet a man by te name of Navaro. Follow his instructions to the letter."

Streak of golden rays passed through the withered windows of the inn. Its brilliance illuminated the entire room as it signified the liveliness of the coming day. Chirps of the minutes are heard outside as the bustle of the day begins. Navaro opened an eye and met the sun's brightness. He yawned, covered his eyes with his muscular arms, and then rolled over on the other side of the bed.

Rest. It has been awhile since he have had availed himself of the pleasure of doing nothing. Since he has trained Ranulf, he thought that he would never have a time for himself once again. Navaro wondered where the dreadlord was. As he remembered, they were in their last part of the training when their power went in their maximum levels and nearly killed each other. After that, he just found himself sleeping beyond a willow tree, unknown to where his companion went.

Navaro went trudged the way by himself then expecting Ranulf to be in their destination. Then he wasn't there. Instead he received a summoning from Rahvin telling him to heed his command. Hence his reason for being here.

Once again, his mind reeled. His mind fought something, a barrier. It seemed to him that what he was and what he represented currently wasn't really what he was. He frowned as he saw his dragon pin that was laid on the table. It glimmered with the sun, perchance giving him a clue of what he really is. Then again, the memory was blocked.

Shaking his head, he stood up and did his morning regiments, all the while thinking about the young lad that was sleeping in the very same inn.

Rahvin and the young man named Dalinar arrived last night. From what he had heard, the young man is a channeller, and a very strong one if trained for the matter of the one power. Strange, Navaro thought, for Rahvin, a powerful being, personally assisted Dalinar. Perchance he has a big plan for this young man. With Rahvin, you'll never know what he was thinking. Only that great things happened when the Chosen planned.

Navaro thought about the young man as he clothed himself. Mayhap he was already awake by now. Like Ranulf, here is another accolyte to teach.

A moment later, Navaro stood up in front of the door of Dalinar's room. Without knocking, the ashaman opened the door and saw the young man stood beside the window. He turned as he saw Navaro entered the room.

"There is what we call knocking." Dalinar said, his hands slid arrogantly inside his pockets.

Navaro slightly raised a brow. "Courtesy had been long lost in this land, lad. Only the contrasting fear, suspicion, and might ever remained."

"And who might you be?"

"Navaro. I was sent by Lord Baelish to further enhance your gift."

"Gift?" Dalinar asked, still oblivious about what the man was pertaining.

"Pack your things and I'll tell you everything on the way."

"Clearly, you think of me as gullible."

"Apparently not. Just a stubborn young lad who needs to e disciplined." Navaro interjected with exasperation.

Dalinar stood in his ground. "How will I be assured that you were indeed sent by Lord Baelish. And where is he, by the by?"

"Ah, Lord Baelish. Such a powerful man, and a busy one for that matter." Navaro said. "As for the proof, I don't have one. Neither will I provide you one."

At that moment, their conversation was disturbed as the door opened and an old man entered. "Good morning, I take it you slept well?"

"We do not wish to be disturbed." Navaro interjected.

"I beg your pardon dear sirs. Nevertheless, breakfast is served downstairs, and I have your bill for your stay overnight." Said the innkeeper.

"Payment you say?" Navaro asked. "We don't have money."

The old man became furious upon hearing that comment. "Blood and bloody ashes! This is not a charitable institution..."

Suddenly, Dalinar felt that strange tingling, sensation and then saw milky white threads of silk coming out from Navaro. The ashaman just crossed his muscular arms in his broad chest as he watched the old innkeeper choked to death.

Navaro then faced Dalinar as that white silky transparency stopped emanating from him. "Let's go." He just said and then left the room.

Bedazzled by what happened, Dalinar just followed the ashaman and went following Navaro.

The morning mist was lit yellow by a sunrise through the chill icy fog of winter. That pale sphere of light, blurred and hazy through the clouds stretching out covering the land with the freezing death of an endless winter. Dalinar surveyed the landscape before them as they walked to the nearest stables. Everything in sight was covered with that blue tinted white of snow, stretching out across the rolling hills. Skeletal snow covered trees and the unmoving wilderness made the world seem cloaked in icy death. The morning haze and frozen fog looked as the mist rising from a newly dead corpse, the life leaving and the husk of flesh left behind. Still, that feeling of death reminded him of the blight, and comforted him in some small way. Death felt oddly like home, and he thought of the frozen dead lands as mirroring his own soul. The thought made him smile in a way that looked more like a mad man's confusion, yet it was a smile, which hid a great many dark thoughts.

Dalinar and Navaro strode across the frozen ground, their steps creaking and cracking on the rock hard mud beneath their feet. They took care to breath in only through the nose, as air this cold could freeze your lungs. The breath leaving their chests would raise with the heat in a billowing cloud. Then it froze and sank slowly to the ground, carried on the slight breeze before another cloud of breath came. When he spoke he spoke softly, not wanting to disturb the silent air of that morning.

"I'm not much for formalities myself," the fog of his breath coming from the shadows of his hood, "but you seemed to have skipped introductions."

"Navaro," he said almost to himself, "and you are Dalinar." This new dreadlord may have the interest of Rahvin, but he must learn his place. Thinking to himself, almost irritated by having to deal with one so undisciplined. "But I agree, formalities can be cumbersome, but you should know your place." He came to the stables, pretending to survey the horses.

"Of course you're right," Dalinar wondered how far he could go, "but for now I can get away with a few things by chalking them up to naivetŽ." He smiled a bit beneath his hood, and the few horses still stabled shuffled and snorted with nervousness as the two neared. The pasture and stable was large, meant to hold perhaps sixty horses here, unusual for a small village. Even more unusual was the horses still remaining, 8 in all, and most of fair stock, far as Dalinar could tell.

"You better learn faster than that." Navaro was growing irritated by the flagrant display by the child, yet still he almost liked the boy. After all, bowing and scraping just now would have irritated him more.

The stablemaster approached, bleary-eyed, and seemed to be trying to shake off a drunken stupor from a night of carousing. He wore thick brown leggings, and a well worn coat beneath a wool cloak pulled tightly around him. The buttons of his coat were uneven, seemed he skipped the second loop, attaching the third to the second button and continuing down from there. He coughed a bit before speaking, a bit slow and slurred either from too early a morning, or too much ale, or both. "Can I... uh... help you with anythin' gen'lmen?" His eyes closed and opened, fighting to stay awake, and a bit of drool had frozen to his unshaven chin.

"We've come for two horses." Said Navaro with a wry and malicious smile, "your two best."

"Yeah yeah, I was just gettin 'em ready, though your message said you wouldn't be here 'til noon." He started stumbling toward the stables, "They aint cleaned up yet, but just gimme a ... " he let out a small belch, and paused, "...moment to saddle 'em up."

Dalinar look at Navaro as the man walked away, "Well, you're rather well prepared and planned."

"Not my doing boy, he must have us mistaken," chuckling to himself, "through that drunken stupor of his."

The man returned a few minutes later, a steed led in each hand. The first, Dalinar noted was the only of the horses who hadn't shied at their approach, but glared them both down with determination. He was mostly black, with a red-brown markings on his chest, and the backs of his legs just above his hooves. His mane and tail were black as well, but ending in that same re-brown color, almost looking like flame. The second was larger, and much more built. Seemed almost half quarter-horse, half war-horse. Mostly dark grey, with patches of black in the same markings as the first. "Here you are, Firestar and Mist, wanted to keep them both for breeding, but they've a more important use now."

Navaro stepped forward, grabbing the reigns of Mist, mounting and turning to the man, "Trust you were paid well?" trying to play along with this amusing little man's confusion.

"No payment necisary," as Dalinar mounted Firestar, who snorted a bit, and tugged on the reigns, "long as you catch that bastard child that killed Lord Anshahl!" the statement caught Dalinar off guard a bit, loosing a foot out of one of the stirrups just as he has getting situated.

"I think we better be going," Dalinar managed to choke out, looking nervously to Navaro, "Lest we let that... bastard child... get too much of a lead."

"Have any strong drink before we're off?" Looking first to Dalinar suspiciously, then to the drunken man. "Something to help warm us a bit."

"Sure do, name your poison." As we walked back toward the barn attached to the stable. Navaro silently dismounted, handing the reigns to Dalinar as he followed the man inside. The man didn't notice the cracking of frozen mud behind him. Only started for a moment when he noticed Navaro following him in, but thinking it was his own idea. The door shut slowly on the darkness on the other side, creaking and then closing with a thunk that seemed to echo and mute by the morning mist at the same time. Dalinar thought for a moment. Amused by the metaphor of the closing door, and that thunk of death personified. �60;p> Moments later Navaro emerged with a content smile on his face. He held up a bottle of some drink while nearing Dalinar and the horses. "Almost a shame," he said mockingly, "the little man had good taste in horses and brandy." He said as he mounted Mist, and stuffed the bottle in a saddlebag, pulling another from beneath his cloak, and adding that to it.

"Take it you had a hand in the death of 'Lord Anshahl' ?" Navaro looked mockingly to Dalinar as he settled in the saddle, and kicked the horse forward.

"Mmmm" Dalinar muttered in acknowledgement as his mood darkened. That chilling hate for the world grew inside of him, turning his face to ice, and darkening his eyes as he kicked his mount forward with Navaro's.

"Time to be off, "Navaro headed to the west side of town, trying to avoid notice as much as possible. There still were few people on the street, as the morning was still as cold as death. However, there still was a few to report what they saw once someone came looking for their horses. They rode west for a while, till the town was out of sight. Navaro then weaved a small flow to keep them from being tracked, as they turned their mounts south.

"You don't need to carry those; it'll only slow us down." Navaro said to Dalinar referring to the bags of clothing that were also saddled up. The ashaman sized up the young man as he removed the bulky bags that were strapped on their horses. A fine young man, perhaps one of Rahvin's strongest when well trained, he thought, and that job of making him use the best of his powers lies to me.

Rahvin Navaro thought as his brows met in confusion. Again, the perplexity of what he should be representing bombarded his mind. He looked at the busy acolyte in front of him and his fist suddenly clenched. The desire to kill this young man was becoming a rightful action for him. Rahvin... loyalty... dominion Navaro groaned inwardly and turned his back to Dalinar. The ashaman's mind was full of doubts and anxieties of what he really is. Sweat beaded in his forehead and cascaded down in his face, such a simple physical matter as compared to the turmoil that was happening in his mind. Who am I!? His mind shouted, but the only loud reply that heeded that question was his fast heartbeat, drumming in his chest, so loud he thought it's going to burst. Then his breathe became laboured. He tried to walk away to hide this weakness from Dalinar but he didn't succeed for the mind was focused on battling the barrier separating him from what? Sanity? Compulsion? Life? Navaro fell down on one knee as he held his head with his hands. Tears started to mist in his eyes and he closed them. Suddenly, a hand touched his shoulders. "Are you al....." Acting on reflex, Navaro seized the source and hastily used air and then he threw the man who touched him. Miraculously, the complexity of his thoughts left him and actually forgotten what he was thinking. Instead he remembered his mission to train the young lad all for the glory of Dominion. Peculiar, he thought.

Dalinar landed on the ground with a loud thud. He grimaced as he slowly stood up. He muttered. "Such you can get from a simple concern."

"I..uh... apologize. I didn't know what came to me. But aye, I am alright." Replied the disgruntled Navaro.

"Sure." Dalinar said while he stood up and then shrugged.

Navaro saddled up his horse. "By the by, you know the purpose of our trip."

"Aye, you are to train me." Dalinar said with a hidden interest.

"Exactly, and we were commanded by Lord Baelish to pass a message to one of his minions." He rode his horse and nodded towards Dalinar to do the same.

Dalinar nodded while Navaro looked up. The sun was shining gloriously, with its frequent folding and unfolding from his friendly clouds. The gentle breeze kissed their cheeks, promising a light trip towards the Blight.

"You ready." Navaro stated. Dalinar acknowledged it by a nod. "Remember lad, you are now a part of Dominion. You are lucky Lord Baelish put you under his protection for he is the most considerate lord I've ever met. In return, we should increase the territory of his order. Hence, our mission."

Dalinar listened carefully as his visuals remained straight.

"Let's go."

Copyright©2004 Anthony