Mareth
Member
|
Chapter Three: The Beginning of A Long Time Mareth couldn't help but stare in amazement for a moment, "A Half-Demon...In this land", he would think to himself. It wasn't the most unusual thing he's seen, but definitely ranks on his list. He pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against, and began to unlock the door. His business here was done. "Wait a Damn Minute." Shadow called after him before he could even find the key, jumbled amidst the various others. He looked at her, and uttered a swift "What?" "You're just going to leave me here then? Not going to kill me? Help me? You're just going to leave me in my agony~!?" She shouted at him, attempting to pick herself up from the bed once more before being overtaken by her wounds. "I'm not going to kill you. Your reason was justified, as misjudged as you were, but now you know better." Mareth answered softly, his gentlemanly accent kicking in, but he shook it off and returned to his norm "I'll send for you a healer in a moment, The Marks left by my claw should heal in time, as regular Magic has no effect on me, or anything of my making." She grunted a little, and he began to leave again, but she stopped him once more. "Well. I've told you my story. Tell me yours, and about that claw thing." Mareth stopped fumbling with the keys, and turned completely to face her. He raised his left arm upward, and pulled down the Black Sleeve that had covered all but the pointed tips of what was once his arm. What stood in it's place was a sort of claw wrapped in bandages from the tip of each finger to his elbow. "THIS, is my punishment. I failed my only job, and let my people die. As far as I've learned, It's permanent". His once morose tone took on a bit of a growl at this point, "And that's all you need to know". He dropped his claw back down to his side, his sleeve immediately following over it. Shadow was intrigued, but not Impressed. "I told you my entire tragedy, and all you're going to do is show me some 'punishment' of yours? Doesn't sound very fair if you ask me." "Well it's all you're going to get for now, at least" Mareth replied disgruntled. He finally fingered the room key out from the parade of others and left the room, slamming the door behind him. "Now, as for my Weapon?" He asked turning to Serenity. "Ah, Yes!" She replied cheerfully, turning behind her and entering the room behind her. She returned a moment later with the blade in hand, it's Beautiful Black Sheathe polished brightly. The Sword itself was nothing special, a Thin-almost Rapier like blade attached to a Silver hilt, twisting around the very bottom of the blade and the entirety of the light Orangish-Red handle, but the Sheathe was very special to him, Along it's Black body, lay several carvings in a silvery material. The Most notable of which read 'Serenity'. The Innkeeper would constantly pester him about the origin of this name, believing he had named it after her. However, the name was much more than that. To Mareth, it stood as the shinning of the silver moon, which invoked a feeling of a deep peace inside of him, a peace he had not known for a very long time. And with each time he looked at the blade, the feeling would grow stronger, and as he stared at his reflection in the sheen of the blade, he could almost see just how much he had grown, and just how strong he could be. So, with no other name befitting it as well, he dubbed the weapon 'Serenity'. He stood looking at the Hilt for a good minute before taking it from her, nodding as he did so. "Take good care of it for me" She said with her usual Smile. Mareth chuckled slightly "I'll try" he said in return. As he began to exit the building he stopped abruptly, never taking his gaze from the door "Also, be sure to send a Healer to that girl in there, I beat her up a little to hard, I suppose." "TigerLady, you mean". The Innkeeper added cheerfully "I'll be sure to send someone her way immediately!" "Good." Mareth fastened his blade around his side and motioned himself the rest of the way out the door, and began to inspect the town. The fire had obviously been extinguished by now, the roofs were a bit scorched but what else was expected. The ground along where he left his walls of ice were still slightly frozen over, and the spot where they had, presumably, been standing when Mareth had begun his Dark Energy attack was covered in a black, almost scorched looking surface which spread out over a few hundred feet and even a few nearby houses. It would probably come off in time, and the townsfolk were already working on the cleanup. He brushed past the busy people, he aimed to return to the tower as he usually did and would go back to his reading. Though he had thoroughly scanned the text dozens of times, he still believed that it held the secret to fixing what he had broken. The original author was apparently some ancient sorcerer who was a master of many different forms of magic. They say he was able to see into other planes of existence and that's how he learned so much. Nobody ever knew his real name and they only referred to him by the name he used to pen his books, Ghil. He apparently vanished after finishing the book, but since then countless legendary spell-casters and Mages have added onto it notes and sources of their own, making it the most apparent source of knowledge for magic there is. Only one copy was ever written, making it a great treasure amongst mages. Therefore, the only safe place to keep it was within the walls of a guardian tower. Upon finally arriving to the tower, Mareth could instantly feel something was off. He rushed up the stairs, but they didn't speak to him as they usually did. He quickly opened the door and felt terror befall him. The room was filled with a smog-like air, and the lorekeeper lay unconscious over his desk. Quickly, Mareth pulled his Crimson Scarf over his mouth and nose, as to not breathe in the foul air, and threw the lorekeeper over his shoulder, rushing him down into the main hall. His comrades looked on in a panic. They attempted to question Mareth, but he ignored them and ran back into the library. "It must still be there!" He thought to himself. As he rushed back into the room, he first checked the table where he usually sat in the corner of the room. "Not There". He turned himself to the shelves, he didn't remember putting it back, but it had to have been there. It just had to. He scanned for what seemed like hours, until the Smog began to overtake him. He pushed himself out of the room, the smog weighing over him. He just barely made it into the main hall before the overtake of the smog got the best of him and he had to take a seat on the stairwell. Immediately he was crowded by the Guardians once more. He couldn't escape their questions this time. "I don't know what the hell happened" Mareth snapped at them "But Aquo Verum, and what looked like many other books on Dark Magic where all missing..." "I thought something was off about that man" Replied a faint voice from behind the crowd. All turned to look, and it had seemed the lorekeeper had awoken from his unconscious state. "What are you talking about?" Mareth asked, assuming the loreKeeper was talking about him. "Last Night, long after you left, Another man came in asking about our books on Magic" replied the loreKeeper "I asked him what type of magic he was looking for. When he told me it was Dark Magic, All I did was ask him 'why?'" The lorekeeper lowered his face to attempt to hide his shame "He told me that he didn't have time for my questions and cast some kind of spell...Next thing I knew I was here" "What did he look like!?" Mareth snapped "He was tall, really tall...and he had a black shawl. He was wearing a hood so I couldn't make much of his face, and underneath it he had a set of Black and Gold armor..." The lorekeeper answered, frightened by Mareth's tone. Mareth stared in wonder for a moment, "Maybe he was the Necromancer Shadow had sensed was here..." he thought. Mareth pulled himself up to his feet. "I don't care what he wanted those books for, but I want them back." The Guardians returned their gaze to him "Surely, you aren't going to go after this man? One who can so easily put under spell an entire library then escape without being noticed? Only a fool would believe they stood a chance against a mage like that!" One of them shouted at him. "If you didn't notice," Mareth glanced towards the person and pointed slightly to his own Crimson Scarf "I happened to hold my own against his magic for a while." The Guardian silenced himself in shame, as a few of the others chuckled at him. "I know of someone who can sense Dark Mages like that." Mareth answered back and took his leave from the tower. The townsmen had done a fairly good job of cleaning up the mess, as the always do when Falconreach is attacked and were all mostly back in their homes, besides the few regulars who tend to loiter around the town. As Mareth approached the Inn once again, he noted that Shadow was standing outside, fully decked in her armor once again, Serenity was returning her Weapon to her, and bidding her safe travels. As she turned, she saw Mareth approaching, gave him a stinging look and turned to walk the opposite direction. "Wait!" He called after her, and gave a motion for Serenity to return inside, she nodded at him with a smile and returned to her post inside. As she did Shadow turned around to face Mareth giving a sharp "What do you want?". He winced at first, but continued towards and stopped within just a few feet. "What weighs more Shadow, Your Weapon, or Your Past?" Mareth asked in a somewhat cold tone. She seemed surprised by this, and in her surprise she was unable to give him an answer, as Rhetorical as his question was. "Everyone faces their own Reckoning." Mareth added on, seeing the surprise in her eyes. "What are you talking about? Why are you here?" She snapped at him aggressively "You can't run from your past Shadow. Believe me...I've tried. But you can redeem yourself. And I want to help you do so." "I don't need help from someone like you." She snapped again. "You don't understand girl. A Necromancer was here last night. He snuck past both of us, and stole something that is very dear to me" Mareth looked her dead in the eyes "And I need to get it back." "So there was a Necromancer!" She scoffed, clenching her fist "And I let him get away...Tell me then. Why should I trust you?" "Because I'm the only help you're going to get" She looked at him for a minute, weighing the truth in his answer "Fine. But don't think that this means we're friends or anything. This is strictly business." "I wouldn't have it any other way" Mareth replied, nodding at her. And with that the two set off from the town.
< Message edited by Mareth -- 11/26/2013 21:11:43 >
|