Alliance (25 page)

The front yard of the mansion looked as
well-kept as the rest of mine old home. The square bushes, planted
by my father even before I was born (Sura had been but a year old
when they were planted), stood against the house 'neath the front
windows on the first floor. The grass was trim and cut, with nary a
place for any enemies or predators to hide from me.

On the right side of the yard was the full
moon-shaped birdbath, which was as dry as the Dead Lands, another
alarming sign to me, because brother Sura loved the tiny red wings
and the sometimes large skiplegs that often came for a drink and a
bath. Why would mine brother ever forget to refill the birdbath?
Did make no sense to me, especially when I noticed how well-kept
the rest of this place was.

The left side of the yard had the
headstone of our parents, a beautifully-crafted piece of masonry
again shaped like the moon when it was full in the sky. I saw
nothing strange about it at first until I noticed … nay, that could
not be …

I walked up to the headstone, ignoring the
text written upon it, mine eyes focusing squarely on what I thought
at first was an illusion, but which now I cannot deny. Just above
the name of my father—FARIL, carved in large block letters—was the
tiniest chipped area.

I took notice of this aberration—nay, this
crime against my parents' memory—because Sura had always taken care
of this headstone with great pride. Every day, after his morning
duties, brother Sura would go out to this headstone and painstaking
clean it, brushing out each carved letter and washing away the
grime and dust which gathered upon its surface. He would even cover
it with three thick woolen blankets when it hailed so as to prevent
it from being damaged.

This terrible sign confirmed what I
feared: Something had happened to mine brother, something that had
prevented him from doing his usual duties. It had to have happened
very recently, perhaps as recent as last night, for the rest of the
mansion still appeared in good shape.

Hence, I drew mine skyras sword from my
belt. 'Twas currently inactive, but I felt the tab I could press to
make it flare to life, which I rested my thumb upon so I could use
it in a pinch. I hoped to the Old Gods that I would not need to,
that maybe brother Sura had been stricken with some illness that
had left him bedridden, but this seemed not to me like that was the
case.

Advancing toward the front door of the
house, mine eyes flicker to the shuttered windows. Perhaps they
were not shuttered so as to protect mine brother's privacy, but
instead were shuttered to hide the evil villain who had dared to
harm him. Who this was, and why they did this, I knew not; however,
mine instincts told me that this must still be here, and therefore
I could not let mine guard down for even a moment.

The front door of the mansion 'twas one of
the few things on the house which brought me no early memories, for
the old door had been replaced by a new door after it had been
destroyed due to an accident I no longer recalled (although it must
have been humorous, for even in this grim situation, it nearly
brought a smile to mine face).

The front door looked not broken open, but
I knew, from a brief alliance with a thief sometime ago, that there
were ways to pick a door's lock without it appearing that it was
so. When I wrapped my hand around the smooth wooden doorknob and
turned it without effort, I knew someone had indeed picked it.

Yet I had no choice but to go inside if I
wished to find out what happened to my brother, so I pushed the
door inwards, still holding mine skyras sword at mine side. 'Twas
prepared to fight to the death if necessary, for no one was allowed
to harm any member of mine family, even family members I am on no
good terms with.

When I opened the door, I was greeted by a
familiar sickening smell: The stink of the popular drug known as
super speed, which smells like smoke and mud. I recognize the stink
because I was one a dealer of the super speed drug between the time
I left home and the time I became a Knight of Se-Dela. 'Tis a stink
ye never forget, for there is an addictive quality to it even to
those such as myself, who never became addicted to the drug which
we sold to the poor souls who devoured it like candy.

This alarmed me greatly, for brother Sura
never used super speed drugs. As a priest of the Old Gods, Sura was
forbidden to use any sort of drug that might affect his clear mind
and good judgment. Did seem unlikely to me that my brother would
ever even allow a user into this mansion, even if that user were a
homeless and wounded traveler with no family with which to
stay.

The entryway was almost pitch black,
though I caught a whiff of a nearby candle that had been put out
somewhat recently. Still, I did not need light to find mine way
around, for I knew this mansion like the back of mine hand. I knew
that to my right 'twas a wooden rack, built by our father years
ago, for our shoes, under mine feet was a carpet meant to catch the
mud and dirt on the soles of my shoes, and a coat rack was to my
left opposite the shoe rack. I also knew that directly ahead of me
was the foyer, with the stairs leading up and up to the upper
floors and doors along the hall that led to other rooms.

Yet I hesitated, my hand still upon the
doorknob, mine eyes scanning the shadows for even the tiniest hint
of danger. The light from the sun outside illuminated the entryway
enough to show me that there was no one waiting in hiding to kill
me. Even so, the mansion was eerily quiet, even for Sura, who while
not as boisterous as I, still made much more sound than was present
in this place.

Should I leave? Or call for help? Kiriah
had given me a messenger device, which currently was in my left
pocket, to use to contact nearby Reunification members in case of
an emergency. 'Twas a useless little thing, for I despised most
Xeeonite tech, but as with mine skyras sword, I had taken it
because Kiriah had insisted I take it.

On the other hand, however, I did not need
think I needed aid. While Sura's disappearance was troubling, I saw
no sign to suggest that many beings have invaded our home. At most,
three villains may have ambushed my brother in his home, and I was
more than capable of handling three villains on my own, no matter
how tough they may be.

So I gently closed the door behind me,
without saying a word, and then advanced slowly toward the stairs.
Mine instincts suggested that Sura was likely in his room on the
second floor, which was usually were he breakfasted. Besides, I did
not smell the scent of cream and bread that my brother usually ate
for breakfast every morning. All I smelt was the stink of super
speed, which made me all the more eager to reunite with mine
brother.

With every step I took, I fully expected
to be attacked by whomever had came here, although nothing emerged
from the darkness to injure me. It occurred to me that it was
possible that whoever had assaulted mine brother was already long
gone, but that did not seem likely to me. If that were so, I would
have heard Sura calling for help or demanding to know who had
entered his house.

Nay; whoever had assaulted mine brother
was still here. Perhaps they were not on the first floor, but that
did not mean I had the luxury of letting my guard down. My foes
likely expected me to walk in as mindless as a toad, though they
underestimated mine intelligence and tenacity for sure.

Whenever I passed a door, I would press
mine ear against its surface and listen as closely as I could.
Every time, I heard nothing at all on the other side of the door,
which made this action of mine seem fruitless, although I continued
to do it anyway just to be thorough.

Soon, however, it became abundantly clear
to me that this first floor was abandoned. I was the only being
down here, no doubt, which meant that I would need to climb the
stairs to the upper floors in order to find my brother.

As silently as I could (though 'twas
likely a fruitless gesture, seeing as my foes above probably
already knew I was here), I climbed the stairs, which creaked not
under my weight, for these stairs were sturdy and had withstood the
pressure of three rambunctious young children for three full
decades without breaking. Like with the rest of this mansion, I had
fond memories of these stairs, but I could not focus on them at the
moment, for I could not afford to be distracted when there was
danger in this house.

After every step, I paused for a brief
second to listen for the sounds of anyone above. I heard nothing,
which did not reassure me much at all. Nay, it succeeded only in
increasing my anxiety and tension, for I was now beginning to
wonder if Sura were alive at all. I wished Kiriah were with me; as
my sister, she always knew how to calm my fears, although I knew
that as the Leader of Reunification, she had many important issues
to deal with while I was away and therefore could not come with me
even to see our older brother again.

Soon, I reached the top of the stairs,
which opened out onto the second floor hall. 'Twas slightly lighter
up here than it was done there; a handful of tiny candles, which
smelled like blueberries, lit the area, although not enough for me
to tell if any adversaries of mine lurked within the shadows.

Then I heard a loud
thump
and I immediately jumped. I also pressed the tab
on the handle of my skyras sword, causing its blade made of skyras
energy to extend into existence. I looked around hurriedly, but see
nothing that could have made that sudden
thump
. Although it at least confirmed that
I was not alone in this mansion, that there was someone—or, may the
Old Gods forbid, some
thing—
in here
with me.

The glow of my skyras sword revealed to me
a little more than the candles did. Opposite me was the
self-portrait of mine father, Faril, wearing his pure white priest
robes of the Old Gods, while carrying the Divine Books within his
arms. He looked young in this portrait, which made sense, seeing as
this had been painted years ago, when I was only a small child, but
even so, his gentle black eyes looked the same as when I was grew
older. Mine own mother, in fact, always used to say that my
father's eyes never aged, which I now understood for perhaps the
first time in my life.

But again, I returned
mine attention back to my surroundings. I decided to check the
second floor, seeing as that
thump
I heard earlier seemed to come from somewhere around here.
Where, of course, I knew not, but I was prepared to fight if the
villains who hid in the shadows should dare to show their ugly
faces.

Hence, I went down the
hall, in the direction I heard the
thump
come from, mine skyras sword at my side and glowing, which I
decided to keep active in case the villains who had broken into
mine brother's house were awaiting me in ambush.

I made my way down the hall slowly but
surely, listening for any sound that would tip me off to the
presence of my enemies. Unfortunately, I heard not a sound aside
from mine own breathing and mine heart beating away inside mine
chest, sounds which sometimes seemed to fill mine ears like an
exploding cannon ball.

Then I heard another sound, one that did
not come from mine own body. 'Twas the sound of someone's weight
shifting, as if they had been standing in place for too many hours.
Did sound like it came from a door on the right side of the hall,
only a few feet ahead of me. The sound ceased quickly enough, but I
made my way up to the door because I knew that that was where it
came from.

I placed mine hand on the handle, but did
not turn it immediately. Instead, I listened closely, as closely as
I could, for any other sound on the other side. I knew not, after
all, who might be waiting behind this door, whether he be friend or
foe, although like before, I heard nothing at all.

Still, I could not afford to turn and
leave, not so soon, so I took a deep breath, made certain that I
was holding mine sword as tightly as possible, and then turned the
knob and entered.

This room was well-lit in comparison to
the rest of the mansion. Light from several candles illuminated the
room, their combined light so bright that I had to blink several
times to allow my eyes to adjust to the change in brightness. When
they did, mine heart nearly failed me by what I saw.

There, on the other side of the room, sat
mine brother Sura, his arms and legs bound tightly to the wooden
chair he sat upon. His head rested upon his chest, making it
impossible for me to see his face, although his long brown hair was
messy and torn in a few places, which worried me greatly.

Brother Sura was not alone, however.
Standing around him were a dozen of the deadliest-looking criminals
I had ever seen in mine life. They were a motley crew—some elves,
some dwarves, others human—but a fearsome one nonetheless, for each
member had one red skyras ring on his index finger, rings which
identified them as belonging to the Red Ring Smugglers.

I raised mine skyras sword, but then
someone from behind who I could not see pushed me forward.
Startled, I staggered forward in an attempt to catch my balance,
but as I did so, I heard the door slam shut behind me. When I
regained my balance, I looked over mine shoulder and saw that the
door was closed and likely locked as well. This meant I had no
avenue of escape, for there was no other way out of this room save
for that door.

Yet I did not allow this to panic me, even
though internally I cursed these criminals to the Old Gods for
their treachery. Instead, I held my skyras sword close, in the way
Sir Lockfried trained me to wield mine weapon in the face of
numerous enemies, as I turned to face the Smugglers again.