It began with a trial, although, Arlandra didn’t see much use in that at all. The Taellian council, a bunch of ugly old men, well, they still had to decide what to do with him. After that it was a very long and confusing journey on a train to get to Old’Durren, which was a facility out in the mountain. He just couldn’t figure it out. Garn had requested from the council specifically that Arlandra’s life be spared. And this wasn’t the first time that Garn had spared him. Why doesn’t he want me to die? What was it that he said? ‘It seems that my accomplice has plans for you.’ I don’t understand.
When he had arrived at the prison mining camp, he waited in the dark of his cell for days. Contemplating. They had taken his weapons, his tools, and even his clothes. He was now clothed in a dirty pair of trousers and a rugged tunic. Well this sucks.
He realised that this situation would not be easy to escape. He was alone now. Stuck in a gloomy cell of Old’Durren. Sam would have no heart to try and save him. Well, at least the debt with Bernard should be paid. Ashley would have gone with Sam. Arlandra wasn’t quite sure what her story was, or why she was interested in Garn. But that wasn’t important right now. He did wonder about Juliet. He hoped that she wouldn’t get herself into anything stupid for his sake. If she did follow him to Old’Durren then he’d have to find a way to contact her. Even though she might be able to ultimately help him get out of this place, he wasn’t going to risk her life, not after what happened at Garn’s camp. That one was far too close.
The cell was dark, obviously. In his rag-clothes Arlandra felt colder than he had ever been before. Why did they have to lock me up in the north of all places?
Somehow fragments of the moon had crept their way into the jail-hold, and a streak of scarlet-blue light painted itself against the stone floor. In the dead of night, Arlandra could hear the sounds of the jail, echoing loudly as they strolled past each cell. The pitiful moans of a weeping man taunted him, and that was followed by angered shouts from other prisoners. When a door was opened, it seemed to be screaming out in pain, yearning for someone to bring it to light.
Then, suddenly the sounds would stop, and it was the strangest thing. It made Arlandra feel terribly lonely, as if the life of the jail had suddenly abandoned him. In a way that made him feel sad, and as soon as he had believed the silence to be real, he heard the subtle drip of a leaking pipe, and the sobbing of the wind. The life of the jail had returned to him… how nice.
But as the night dragged on, the dripping and sobbing made him twitch at each ghastly note. He learned to hate that sound most of all. And then one of the prisoners awoke and began to moan about it, another got into an argument and another started crying. Arlandra pressed his fingers over his eyes. I’ve been here six hours and I’m already going insane. Unfortunately, he didn’t get any sleep that night.
He was trained since he was a boy to only ever kill for a good reason, however he still wasn’t quite sure whether or not a rough night was a good enough reason. It certainly seemed so at the time. However, as he stepped out into the main yard, he did welcome the warm sunrise with open arms – as if he was never going to see it again. Surprisingly the jailers were all military men of some sort, dressed in neat black uniforms, but they were no less cruel.
A tall man with a curly moustache opened Arlandra’s cell on the break of day and the assassin joined a line with all the other murderers and thugs. He was led outside and for the first time was able to get a good look at the mining camp. It was huge. Arlandra could barely see the tall iron wall that kept him inside all the way on the far end of the camp. Between him and the wall were several massive holes that had been dug up where the minerals were.
The guards didn’t let Arlandra look for very long. He and the others were moved away to an area filled with mountains of rocks. Each mountain flowed with crimson purple veins of benezian. The crystal’s smooth glassy surface was like water compared to the hard rock, and it glittered the same as it caught the sun.
So this is what they’ve been using to fuel their little war. Who knew something so beautiful could do so much damage?
The other prisoners took up their tools and routinely set about their work. Arlandra was more hesitant, until the guard with the moustache gave him his own tool.
“This is your pick-axe,” the guard said. “It is the closest thing to a friend you are ever going to get in this place, so I suggest you treat it well.” He gestured towards the mountains of rock. “Now get to work.”
For now Arlandra could do nothing else but smash rocks apart. It took a few hours before his hands started bleeding, but that much was expected. The pain wasn’t so bad. It was everything else that did the most damage. The heat, the terrible grey colour of the northern sky, the boring punishment, although, he supposed it could have been worse.
As night fell, the sky transformed into a stunning spectacle of maroon and crimson gold, such as the likes of nothing Arlandra had ever seen before. He heard a cry and a curse as the brute of a man next to him shattered a pick-axe and sent shards of metal and wood flying.
The guards showed no sympathy. “You did that on purpose!” they yelled. “You’ve still got two more hours out here!” One of the guards pointed a stubby finger at Arlandra. “You! What are standing around gawking at! Go get another axe and give this pathetic fool yours! There will be no rest for him!”
Arlandra was at least glad to rest his hands, even if it was only for a minute or two. He found the storage and went inside. The air was dry and tasted of sulphur. The pick-axes were sitting next to the crates of dynamite. Hmm… I could always just blast my way out of here. Somehow that didn’t sound like something an assassin would do.
Of course, he had already been considering his escape plan, however his main obstacle was the sheer size of the camp. With so many guards in his way it would be incredibly difficult to do anything rebellious without being shot to pieces. He needed to work on this.
As he left the storage he caught sight of a thick iron grate in the side of the wall… Could I? He stared at it peculiarly for a moment. There’s no way, the iron’s too strong. Besides, they’ll still shoot me down before I get anywhere. This definitely is going to be a problem.
He heard a sound, a rustling noise in the bushes on the other side of the grate. There was something or someone on the other side.
“Who goes there?” he called quietly.
“Arlandra?” The voice was comfortably familiar.
“Juliet!” There was a confusing mix of relief and despair in his voice. “Juliet is that you?”
“Yes,” she cried, “it’s me. Arlandra, I was so worried. I didn’t know what they were going to do to you.”
“It’s okay, Juliet, I’m alright. What about Sam and Ashley? Did they go east like I told them to?” He thought he heard a glimmer of tears in her voice.
“Yes,” she said softly
“Juliet, you should have gone with them. It’s too dangerous for you to be here. What if you’re caught?” He might have said that a little too harshly.
“I’m not going to just leave you, Arlandra. You made me a promise, remember? We’re going to see it through to the end. I’ll get you out of here.”
“No, I’m not going to let you risk your life for me…”
“But Arlandra…”
“I said no! Please Juliet. I can find my own way out of here, and when I do, I’ll need you to be ready with horses to make our escape. Can you do that for me?”
Juliet was silent for a long time and Arlandra could feel her anguish. “Yes,” she finally said. “I can do that… But don’t take too long, okay?”
Arlandra smiled, “I made a promise, didn’t I.”
There was a voice, as booming and sudden as thunder. “Hey!” it shouted. “No resting! Get over here!”
It hurt for him to leave her, almost like letting go of a flower and hoping that the wind would one day return her to him. As her presence disappeared he felt confused. And then something caught his eye – black light, and a presence that felt strangely and scarily familiar.
A cold rush flew through his body as the guard raised his whip. The snake curled up into the air, and in the blink of an eye it struck down at him like a bolt of lightning. But nothing happened.
Arlandra had closed his eyes, only for a moment, but when he opened them he found that he was in another world. No, he was still in the same place. There was the mountain of rock that he was working on, and the storage was still there, and there was a prisoner right there. They were all gone.
An eerie mist clung to his feet, and it began to catch the orange light of the rising sun. Where am I? He wondered.
“Surprised?” Called a voice from within the mist. It was tender and beautiful, however a sort of darkness echoed after it, which made Arlandra uneasy.
He turned to face the figure of a woman donned in black, her dark hair as smooth as a river, and her eyes resting in shadow.
“What is this?” Arlandra questioned, admittedly afraid.
“Why Arlandra, it’s only been two years and you’ve forgotten me already.” There was a lustful tone in her voice. When Arlandra made no reply she continued. “Your order used to pray to us all the time. Though I believe Aprillen was your personal favourite.”
It was at that instant that Arlandra knew exactly who she was. It was like seeing the face of a very old friend. “You… you’re Ariana. One of the ten divine.”
Ariana’s lips curled into a smile. “You guessed it! Long time no see, Arlandra. What happened? Did you lose your faith? You never pray to me anymore.”
Arlandra felt forgotten anger return to him. “Huh! I prayed,” he said loudly. “You didn’t answer. But it’s a bit late for that now, don’t you think?”
The goddess paced slowly around Arlandra, hardly moved by his accusations. “Well I must say, I truly am hurt that you’d think that way, but we can discuss the befalling of your precious order some other time, right now, Arlandra, I’d like to ask for your help.”
Arlandra let out a cold laugh. “You mock me, Ariana. I owe you no favours. Besides, even if I wanted to help you, and I certainly have no reason to, I’m stuck in this prison!”
Ariana placed the tips of her fingers softly on Arlandra’s chest. “Oh, how I do enjoy the stubbornness of humans.” She placed her hand against his cheek. “I am a god, Arlandra. I don’t care for your grudges. So let’s make a deal.” She leaned in close to Arlandra’s face. “I can free you from this prison and see you safely to the place where Garn Pallerii is hiding, and all you have to do is say yes.”
Arlandra could feel her cold breath, and the closeness of her body. “What would you have me do?” he asked cautiously.
Ariana smiled again, a lustful and vicious smile. “Kill Garn Pallerii.”
Arlandra pushed the goddess away and stepped back. Why always Garn? “What is your interest in Garn Pallerii?”
She answered innocently, but powerfully. “Garn plans to do something that is bigger than you, your broken order, even me, the great goddess of fate! For the sake of Noveria you must stop him.”
Arlandra was silent for a moment. “Why me?” he finally asked.
“You really have forgotten the order, haven’t you? You must do it because you are the only one who will.” Ariana pressed her fingers firmly against Arlandra’s forehead. Her skin was cold to touch, and as a river of light began to pulse through his body he tensed and cried out.
“I will give you the power that is needed in order to defeat Garn. Use it to manipulate the energy in the world around you.” She smiled, a distant look in her eye. “Good luck to you, my brave champion, the fate of Noveria now rests in your hands. Now wake up Arlandra. Wake Up!”
Arlandra sat up quickly in the dark of his cell, panting heavily as the cold night air kissed his face. He shivered at the feeling of it, and then laid down quietly back on his bed. It was a fucking dream! He wanted to cry out.
ns 172.70.35.20da2
