TM
Chapter 2 - Pledge Of Royalty
Act 3 - Mystic Eyes
“Holy Essence provider of life protect us all, release the barrier of light, shield our souls and let evil fall.” “Zone Of Light!” Ahrvezux immediately raised his arms to the heavens, a thick white bolt hit his palms and a bright dome-shaped light began to form between his hands, it expanded until it completely covered himself, Metatron and the others.
An ear shattering clash of energy resonated across the large but now devastated marble hall. The black energy dome from the specter hit Ahrvezux’s barrier and was forcing its way through. Black sparks were whipping at the barrier with deadly force.
“Will this barrier hold long enough Ahrvezux?”
“It will hold long enough Mecostas, but as soon as I remove the shield, scatter, all of you.” Ahrvezux said, still with his arms raised to the heavens, trying desperately to hold the mystical dome barrier in place.
The four nodded in approval. Ahrvezux looked at the black sparks emanating from outside, he paused for a while. Thoughts entered his mind.
“Why does this have to come to be my brothers? Why should we be fighting each other? Lord Norstradt never wanted this to happen… but I swore to protect these people, I must not fail my Lord… I am sorry. Forgive me… Akrasiel
Ahrvezux looked at Metatron and the others, he smiled…
…and finally he let go.
“I just dreamt it all…” Crichton said in relief. “…I’m still at Sanctuary, I did not go back to Lithia and travel to Wahan at all, I didn’t even attack eight Arcanian soldiers and a mysterious man.”
Crichton opened his eyes and sat up; all his notions were proven wrong. He found himself sitting on a large bed covered with white silk sheets with expensive gold trimming. The room was twenty times larger than his room at Sanctuary and elegant decorations were all over the place, four large paintings hung from the white marble walls, one of which caught his attention. It was a portrait of a very attractive blue-eyed and black-haired woman. She had an angelic face and a smile that bore through the heart of anyone who looked at the painting.
“Admiring the princess lad? ...” Crichton’s staring was interrupted by a familiar voice which came from the left side of the room. “…very pretty isn’t she?”
Crichton turned and saw the blacked caped man he fought at Wahan. He was sitting on a finely crafted silver chair beside a golden door. He was still wearing the same outfit with his arms still crossed. A gentle and comforting smile filled his face.
“Xander taught you well Crichton…” The man said as he stood up, he walked towards Crichton and stopped as he reached the bed side. “…a normal person would be unconscious for five lunians after taking a blow like the one I gave you back at Wahan. Yet you managed to recover consciousness only for a day…”
“W-w-w-where am I? W-w-who are you?” Crichton asked directly without thinking.
“Oh, I’m sorry about that young lad, you are in Castle Simonne, Palace of The Arcanian Crown. I apologize if I haven’t formally introduced myself. I am Francis Richter Vane, Elite King’s Guard and High Valiant of Arcania.” The man slightly bowed with his right arm at his chest.
Crichton was speechless, shock and confusion filled his face for right in front of him was a Valiant. Not just a Valiant but the High Valiant. Arcania’s greatest warrior was bowing at him.
“I’m sorry I did not recognize you Sir Vane…” Crichton said as respect. He tried to stand up to bow but a sharp pain came from his chest, now wrapped with new bandages.
“Don’t move yet lad… your wounds are still fresh. I apologize if I kicked you at the chest back at Wahan. I didn’t know you had a very deep cut there...” Richter said still smiling, as he patted Crichton at the shoulder. “…anyway, how is your master?
Crichton’s excitement was taken away by Richter’s question, sadness was completely visible in his face and for minutes he fell silent. Then he bowed his head and finally spoke.
“He passed away three years ago… after teaching me everything he knew in the Sword Arts he mysteriously fell ill. The healers said that there was nothing even the Arcean Arts could do. His disease was a mystery to everyone. I took care of him. I did everything I could to bring him back to health but… but… I failed. Before death took him away he spoke these words… ‘Heed the call of destiny…’ I don’t know what he meant by those words… ‘Til this day it still is mystery that I am willing to fulfill, for master Xander was like a father to me…”
“I’m sorry…”
“It’s okay sir… but how did you know my name?” Crichton said, still bearing the sad tone of his voice.
Richter pointed at Crichton’s chest where a silver necklace which was dangling out of his shirt for the first time. It had a silver circular tag with a pointed crystal cross in the middle and surrounding the cross were thirty six wings which were engraved delicately near the edges. At its back it bears the name ‘CRICHTON’
“Oh…” Crichton said as he put his pendant back into his tight white shirt.
“Xander must have told you that he was Arcania’s Valiant of Sword…” Richter looked at Crichton, and Crichton nodded. “…Xander was a great friend of mine. We always fought side by side and we treated each other like brothers…He knew everything about me as I knew everything about him. But one day he vanished. It wasn’t like him to leave without saying a word. We searched for him until I found a letter under his closet. In the letter he told me that he was feeling death was coming to him. He said that had to find someone perfect to teach the Sword Arts of the Yargin’s. He asked me not to go looking for him for his quest was of the outmost importance. It was hard for I always expected him to return…It is very sad to know that he has passed away…” Richter now bears the same sad face as Crichton’s.
“So you knew I was Sir Xander’s student when I executed his moves, right sir?”
“Please call me Richter Crichton…” Richter said as he went back to his gentle smile. “…Well, first I was a little unsure if you were the perfect one Xander spoke of, I really didn’t know how many of you he taught. So I asked the Valiant of the Cross; Septimus to prophesize how you looked. He told me that you would carry a sword as black as the night sky… that’s why I kept convincing you to unsheathe your blade.” Richter grinned as Crichton smiled.
Crichton smiled as everything about his experiences at Wahan became clear to him. “Sir I don’t mean to change the subject in purpose but is recruitment still going on?”
“Silly lad… Why’d you want to be just a soldier?” Richter said as his eyes glowed with excitement. “You were taught by the greatest swordsman of Arcania; Xander Yargin, he taught you for a purpose… you were to replace him as the Valiant of Sword…”
Crichton was filled with mixed emotions. He was shocked, cheerful, confused and in disbelief. “M-m-m-me a V-valiant?” Crichton stuttered.
Richter smiled and patted Crichton’s shoulder “Believe it lad… so will you accept the Arcanian Crown’s offer?”
“B-b-but… I’m not that good sir…”
“Richter…call me Richter, …If you accept I’ll train you more, more than Xander could ever teach you, So what do you say lad? Soldier or Valiancy?
“Crichton smiled; for everything he ever wished for was coming before him… he was to be a Valiant… the best of the best. Arcania’s protector of the crown, Arcania’s Elite”
Richter was still smiling waiting for an answer…then it came.
“Valiancy.”
Just as Richter was about to say something a soldier came busting into the room which made both of them turn. The soldier was panting and almost out of breath, he looked as if he ran a thousand miles non-stop “Lord… Valiant… urgent news… important…” The man was forcing himself to speak.
Richter stood up he walked to the door where the soldier was and the two men conversed. They were speaking rather silently. The only words Crichton overheard Richter say was. “What? Not again…” For minutes the two men talked and after a while Richter gave him his orders. The soldier sped off again. He hurriedly left the room without noticing Crichton.
Richter walked over to Crichton, he was smiling but this time his smile was forced. “I have to attend so something urgent Crichton. Sorry I can’t take you along… but would you like to look around the palace or would you like to walk around Simonne?”
“I’d like to walk around Simonne for a while Richter… I think I’ll get to see more of the palace once I’m a Valiant.”
“Good, then let’s get going, you can leave you’re accessories here. This will be your permanent room from now on. But don’t forget to bring your sword along. A lot of trouble makes are roaming Simonne as I speak, better be protected eh?”
Crichton nodded, he stood up and picked up his sword and sheath and tied it to his left waist.
“By the way Richter… I’m sorry if I attacked your unit yesterday.”
“Don’t worry about that lad… they deserved it” Richter let out a soft laugh.
The two left the room. Outside was a jaw dropping sight. Crichton looked up and saw a massive dome structure which served as the palace’s roof. It was painted with a war scene, a war between thousands of angels and demons in the heavens. Richter led Crichton to his right and they proceeded to a massive hallway whose path was led by a black carpet that contrasted the white marble floor. The hallway was lined with golden suits of armor which glistened as light from nearby windows touched them. Rare and antique Arcanian plants, paintings and furniture were among the countless decorations that filled the palace with life. The palace was quiet and every once in a while royal helps passed one of the countless crossings of the hallway. At the end of the hall was a wide spiral staircase still made of white marble. The two descended the steps. Richter still wasn’t saying a word to Crichton. He had a very worried look that Crichton didn’t dare ask him what was troubling him.
After moving at least seven floors down, Richter led Crichton into a very large hall. Crichton couldn’t help looking around with his mouth wide open. It was a very astonishing sight. Thousands of chandeliers were above them. At the center of the hall was a fountain with an angel sculpture above it. It was the size of an average house.
“This is Castle Simonne’s entrance hall Crichton.” Richter finally spoke
“This is just an entrance hall!?!” Crichton asked in amazement.
“Yes, yes, marvelous isn’t it? Anyway just go straight out of that door and follow the path. That will lead you to Simonne’s city proper. Oh and before you go Crichton take this with you…”
Richter handed Crichton a golden necklace. Crichton looked at its pendant… it had a crest on it. At the center was a crystal cross and surrounding it were four silver swords each pointed outwards.
“… Your proof of Valiancy to the Sword, I can’t give you your uniform yet though. You haven’t taken oath yet. That will take place tomorrow at midday. You could spend your time outside as long as you want but be back here before midday tomorrow. You could come back here anytime just show the Royal Guards your crest.”
Crichton nodded. He took the necklace and immediately put in on. He hid the pendant inside his shirt as well. “Don’t worry I won’t be long Richter.”
Crichton ran down the entrance hall and he immediately went outside. The morning sky was clear and the sun shone brightly. The path was made of sparkling white pebbles and at each side were long stretches of elegant grass which was decorated by trees, bushes and shrubs with flowers ranging from bright pink to dark purple. The path was about a mile long and it took several minutes for Crichton to reach a long flight of marble stairs which led to the palace’s fifty foot tall golden gates. By the gates were four guards wearing golden armors with crimson capes. They were at attention and they didn’t even budge an inch. They greatly reminded Crichton of the rows of armors in the palace which were empty and lifeless. Crichton passed the gates and he entered the city of Simmone.
Simonne was less crowded than Wahan and even more prosperous as well. The atmosphere was new to Crichton for the bricked streets were free from garbage. The trees lining the streets gave a sense of freshness to the air. Buildings were made of fine bricks unlike the stone slabs at Wahan. Light posts were made of neatly crafted metal each could be worth a fortune or so but no one dared do anything as stupid as stealing in Simonne for countless soldiers patrolled the area.
“I’m sorry to disturb you sir but could you direct me to the nearest blacksmith? I’m rather new here.” Crichton asked an old man who was looking over a store window.
The small old man turned and smiled “No harm done young man. The nearest smithy is Tynia’s but it’s a good 5 mile walk from here… I know a 1 mile shortcut though, but I’m afraid you’ll have to go through some troubled areas. But I do think you could handle that now could you?” The old wrinkled man looked at Crichton’s sword.
Crichton nodded with approval and patted his sheath.
“Well then… you see that Inn? There’s a wide alley there with many vendors in it. ‘Go through there to the other side’ and you’ll end up in a crossing go left from there and you’ll end up at the tailors. Then head right and you’ll get to Tynia’s. Did you get all of that?”
“Yes sir, thank you for your time.”
Crichton left and headed for the Inn. Like the old man said there was an alley about twelve feet wide by the Inn’s side. Vegetable and meat vendors occupied each side of the alley. It was more like Wahan there for it was so noisy and crowded. Crichton squeezed in moving very fast for he wanted to be rid of the place quickly.
“Oh shit, what did the old man say again? Left…left… crossing on the left! Yeah that’s it.” Crichton was halfway in the alley when he reached a crossing. He walked left not knowing he was going the wrong way. The path he was now taking was so narrow that it could only fit one person. It was so poorly lighted for the sun could not reach such a place. Crichton was about to reach the end of the alley when he realized it was a dead end. For before him was a rather large area where all the surrounding buildings threw their garbage.
“Must have heard wrong damn it. “ Crichton was about to leave when he heard some people laughing hardly.
“How about ditching the cloak and showing us some skin girl” A drunken bulky man said as he held a cloaked woman by the cheeks. “Yeah let’s see you without em!” cried another intoxicated man who was tall and thin, he was holding the woman’s right arm. “How about we take em off for you?” a third obese man yelled, he too was drunk and was holding the woman’s waist. The woman was struggling to free herself from her abusers. She couldn’t scream or even speak. The thin man let go of her arm and started touching her behind. The woman struggled once more this time see was thrashing more violently. “Don’t struggle woman there’s nothing you could do, he he” The bulky man bellowed as the obese man was now raising the bottom of the woman’s cloak revealing her short blue skirt and long slender legs. “Now this is skin.” The fat man said as he invaded the woman’s hips. She was struggling more but to no avail. “Let’s see if she’s got meat in her too.” The bulky man said as the readied his hand to touch the woman’s breast. Tears were flowing down the woman’s cheek.
A huge bag of trash flew to the air and hit the bulky man in the face sending him crashing on a pile of rotten vegetables. “What the hell!” cried the thin man in confusion. “Get him you idiots!” The bulky man bellowed. The two men immediately let the girl go and they both pulled out a dagger from their backs. The bulky man stood up and pulled out a dagger as well. The thin man ran toward Crichton and slashed at his throat but Crichton was able to jump back. He swept the man’s leg with his own and the man fell on his back what fallowed was a mighty backhand to the man’s throat which took him out in an instant. The obese man ran toward Crichton who was kneeling. Even before he could strike a blow the man flew back from were he came and he crashed into some wooden crates. Crichton was fast enough to thrust his sheath at the fat man’s chin. Crichton stood up. “You bastards!” Anger was within his face. Crichton ran toward the bulky man. The man swung his dagger at Crichton but missed. Crichton leapt sideways and kicked the wall to maximize his attack force. Before the man could make another attack Crichton delivered a splintering blow to the man’s throat using his knuckles. The man flew to the opposite wall, blood spurting from his mouth. He was out cold but still alive.
Crichton walked up to the woman who was now down on the floor and helped her up. Her hood fell as she stood up. Her sparkling pony tailed black hair waved fluidly in the air. She was the perfect description of beauty. For minutes Crichton stared at the perfect existence that stood before him. Crichton was greeted and thanked by the woman’s small pink lips which now bear a smile. Crichton was drowned by her beauty that Crichton looked her right into the eye which was a shining crystal blue. Something about her eyes seemed to tell Crichton how comfortable she was around him. Her eyes spoke unspoken words beyond any language. Was it love? Crichton didn’t know. It was the first time they met, yet she seemed to have been long inside his heart. He never knew that on that day… when he gazed upon those mystic eyes…
…his destiny began.