Umbra Pradicatio - 5

“Hey Mordikai; I need a favor,” I announced, as I approached another of my assassins, Mordikai von Kaiser. The Dragonspyrian glanced up from his work; a thick stack of papers littering his desk so thick I couldn’t see him behind it. The only illumination in his cluttered workroom was a small candle on the verge of burning out, located on a small oaken sidetable.

                “Anything to get me out of this crap,” he mumbled. His accent was heavier than most, but not overbearingly so. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head, letting his long, chocolate hair fall to his shoulders. He stepped out from behind the desk, and I found he was wearing the same uniform Zamir had. He scratched his chin, which had obvious stubble. Someone needs a break like there’s no fucking tomorrow.

“What do you need?

                “Well you see, earlier today I was sent to retrieve a certain girl from Marleybone and bring her back to the palace…” I started. Mordikai nodded silently.

                “And she’s…rambunctious, for lack of a better word. Anyway; point is, Zamir let her into my room.”

                “So?”

                “While I was sleeping.”

“Oh.” A smirk grew across the man’s face. He knows what I’m about to ask of him. Either that or he was picturing a ‘rambunctious’ girl in my room, while I was passed out.

“I need to get back at him,” I stated. He crossed his arms.

“And how do you propose to go about that?”

“Are you familiar with the King’s plans to build a moat around Palace Luminosa?”

“Aye.”

“Do you know when they’ll fill it up with water?” Mordikai smiled maliciously, and contemplated.

“I believe it will be full by tomorrow evening. What do you need me to do?” he asked.

“Have him on the roof tomorrow night. Bribe him, kidnap him, I don’t care. I just want him on that roof,” I ordered.

“What do you plan to do? Just drop him in? Doesn’t seem very elaborate or entertaining,” the Dragonspyrian pointed out.

“Well do you have a better idea?”

“Actually…”

I glanced at the timepiece I had removed from my coat pocket, and smiled. Quarter until ten. I replaced the watch in my pocket, and made my way to my room to catch some sleep before I have time to kick Variska’s ass tomorrow. I ascended the staircase that leads up to the living quarters, and reached the top floor. However as I turned into the corridor where my room was located, something felt…amiss.

I glanced at the door that lead to my room, and found it slightly ajar. Fuck. I sprinted down the hall and grabbed the doorknob; nearly slipping on the tile due to the momentum I had generated. In one fluid motion, I flung the door open, and drew my swords from within my coat.

“Who’s in my—Dammit, Variska! What the hell are you doing in my room; again?!” I screamed when I spotted the panther’s tail whipping around in the entrance to my closet.

“I’m looking for some lipstick stupid.”

“Why in God’s name would I have lipstick in my closet?”

“It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing I’ve found…” her tail twitched.

“What do you mean? Oh wait. Oh God. You didn’t.”

“Unlock the safe in your closet? Why as a matter of fact, I did. You’ve got some interesting things in there. The head of Malistaire’s staff, the Sword of Kings, the Krokonomicon, the Golden Fang, the Spiral Cup, the Astral Tablets from Celestia…good God, you even have Morganthe’s Deck of Shadows! This is the stuff of legend! With the exception of this odd…amulet thingy…How the hell do you even have this stuff?” the girl exclaimed as she emerged from the closet with the Sword of Kings and the amulet in hand.

“Put that stuff back,” I warned as I backed off slightly.

“Answer my question.”

“I did other things before I was an Assassin.”

“Meaning?”

“I was a thief.”

“And no one’s noticed these things are missing?”

“I was a really good thief.”

“Okay, but I was in the Marleybone Museum just a few days ago. I saw the Krokonomicon and the Golden Fang there.”

“I’m also a Necromancer.”

“So?”

“I’m a really good Necromancer,” I stated flatly. I swiped the sword from the feline’s hand, and wrapped my hands around the hilt. I exhaled audibly, and both my palms and eyes emitted a purple aura. All at once, the sword fissured, and split into two identical copies. Variska stared, wide-eyed at my trick, and grabbed one of the swords in disbelief to confirm it was real.

“That one’s the copy; it has no abilities or anything, but it looks just like the real thing, huh?” Variska nodded, speechless.

“So the Krokonomicon and Golden Fang in the Marleybone Museum are copies?” she asked suddenly. I smirked, and nodded. Her reaction was satisfying. It’s fun to feel superior.

“Why do you need these things? And more importantly, with these things, you can rule the entire Spiral! Why waste time serving a King when you can be one?” I shrugged, and reclaimed the amulet from Variska.

“What is that?”

“It’s an amulet. It’s…sentimental” The sword in hand, I returned the two artifacts to their home in the safe, and relocked it.

“I forgot to ask you; how the hell did you get in here?” I questioned. The girl winked, and twirled my room key around her little finger.

“Well aren’t we forgetful?” she toyed. I swiped the key from her, and yawned.

“I’m tired. Go to bed. Your bed,” I commanded. Variska stuck her tongue out at me after the inclusion of the ‘your bed’ to the order. She then glided past me and exited my room, closing the door firmly behind her. I stood there for several moments, straining my ear to see if I could make out the sound of footsteps. I sure as hell didn’t want her back in here tonight.

However, (much to my relief) the faint sound of a panther stalking through the corridor resonated through the hallway, managing to reach my ears. I sat down at my desk, blankly staring at the papers on my desk. I let my mind wander, and found myself contemplating Variska.

She’s not a normal girl; I can see that. But it’s more than that. Something’s off about her. Her reaction was minimal; to say the least when I told her the source of all fucking magic is dying. And she was only moderately surprised to find my collection of artifacts. And her bodyguard can’t be that protective in that she hasn’t seen modern society in (what I’m guessing was) about a decade. She’s not telling me something, and I intend to find out what. But not anytime soon. I’ve got the competition tomorrow and my little surprise for Zamir to worry about. I collapsed onto my bed, squirming around until my head met pillow, and proceeded to drift off into blissful sleep…While ignoring the hissing I heard prior to unconsciousness.

I arose to the sound of the ravens chirping in the gardens, squinting at the bright light infiltrating my dwelling through an open window. I sat up, stretching my arms far above my head, and remembering that I was so exhausted, I didn’t change my clothes last night. I stood up slowly; still groggy from my slumber, and made my way to my wardrobe to retrieve a fresh set of clothing. Mid-stride however, something wrapped itself around my ankle, causing me to lose my balance and ultimately come crashing to the ground; my chin painfully colliding with the tile floor in the process.

“What the fuck?!” I roared as I propped myself up, and scanned the area; trying to find the thing that had tripped me. A sinister hiss coming from behind me made me hold my breath. I turned my head cautiously; this could have only been one creature. My eyes widened as I had a clear view of the attacker, my thoughts having been proven correct. It lunged at me, wrapping itself around my neck. I rolled onto my back, struggling with the creature.

“Ack-” I choked out. I could barely breathe, let alone scream. A sudden knock at my door caused the assailant to twitch. I seized the opportunity and grabbed the creature by the neck, wrenching it from my throat. An enraged hiss escaped between its fangs as I took in an immense gulp of air.

“Hey, Mr. Assassin. I’m ready to kick your ass,” the familiar voice of Variska called from the other side of my door.

“I’ll be out in a- ugh… minute!” I replied.

“You okay in there?” she asked, not convinced I was being truthful. I slid myself backwards, and threw the snake onto my bed, but my plan soon fell short when my skull connected with the corner of my wardrobe with a resounding thud during the ‘slide myself backwards’ aspect. The agony I was feeling completely abolished the snake from my mind, and I lurched forward, grasping the back of my head while hissing in pain. Variska evidently heard my stumble, and tried the doorknob.

“I’m fine…” I spat out. I looked up – the snake was nowhere to be found. Shit.

“That crash didn’t sound like ‘fine’ to me,” she retorted. I grabbed the edge of the wardrobe, and hoisted myself up. Still clutching my bruised (and possibly bloody) scalp, I trudged over to the door, and allowed Variska inside. She raised an eyebrow in skepticism when my injury became apparent.

“You alright?” she questioned. I cleared my throat and removed my palm from my head. There was blood on it, but a small amount. However it didn’t go unnoticed by the panther.

“You’re bleeding,” she stated flatly. Well no shit, Sherlock. I chuckled unsteadily.

“So I am…”

“Care to explain?”

“Mmm…not really.” I felt the sensation of my boot getting increasing tighter around my calf, and then I froze. I found the snake. Before anyone could blink, I wrapped my hands around the neck of the reptile, and brought its head up to my face. Variska backed off; obviously caught off guard by the snake she didn’t even know was there.

“There you are! Don’t be so vicious next time,” I ordered. The creature formed the equivalent of a smile, and hissed contently. I lifted it up to my shoulder, and let it wrap itself comfortably around my neck.

“Did you…and the…why is there a snake in your room?” Variska gaped.

“Well he’s my pet, Vivit. He came back last night from Wizard City, apparently.” To further prove my point, Vivit sank his small teeth into the side of my neck. The girl gasped.

“Friendly today, are we?” I asked the snake. Variska simply stared in awe.

“This is real life; that actually just happened…” she said to no one in particular. I leaned against the doorframe; still disoriented from my collision…either that or blood loss – though the latter of which is unlikely.

“You look dizzy. What happened?” she asked me again. I sighed in defeat.

“Vivit and I were playing around, and my head nailed the corner of my dresser.”

“Nice going. Do you have any fabric or something I can wrap that up with?” I stared at her for a moment.

“I think there’s some gauze under the sink in my bathroom,” I informed her. I gripped the back of my head again; the pain returning with greater force than before. Variska lead my over to my bed, where she sat me down prior to entering my bathroom. Vivit looked up at me, and rubbed his head against my chin.

“See what you did? Sometimes you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” I scolded in a lighthearted manner. Variska emerged from my bathroom with a roll of gauze, a pouch full of ice, and a wet towel.

“Alright, lemme see it,” she ordered. I turned around, and Vivit slithered down my arm and onto my comforter. Barely two seconds passed before the freezing towel was cleansing the wound. I winced slightly at the abrupt application of an icy piece of cloth. Soon however, Variska abandoned the towel, and proceeded to wrap the gauze tightly around my head. She placed the ice pack on my pillow, and I was then forced backwards, until I was laying down on my bed.

“Get some sleep. You still plan on competing today?”

“No, I plan on letting a head wound allow you to win, and miss the chance to humiliate you in front of the whole town.” That answer earned me a solid punch in the arm.

“Then I’ll wake you up in an hour. The competition begins in an hour and a half.”

“I’m not going back to sleep, I have stuff to do.”

“Whatever. But when you pass out in the middle of a fight, I’m gonna laugh at you.” I propped myself up on one arm.

“Thanks for doing this though. But now I gotta know what possessed you to show some humanity.”

“You saved my life, so the least I can do I make sure you don’t bleed to death. That’d really suck…can you imagine how messy that’d be?”

“Alright, get out.”

“Aww, but I thought we were having fun!”

“I need to change,” I explained. Variska rolled her eyes, and departed for the hallway.

“I’m still gonna win. What with your left hand being all sliced up and your head…being like that.”

“Please. If I were one to let injury get in the way of my goals, I’d be dead right now.” Variska giggled and stepped into the corridor.

“Alright tough guy. Hey, don’t you have work today?” Variska pointed out. I chuckled half-heartedly to myself, and waved away the prospect.

“I don’t have work on the weekends.”

“But you didn’t have work yesterday…”

“You were my work.”

“And it was the best damn workday of your life,” was my farewell as the feline’s tail disappeared around the corner. I locked the door behind her, and started towards my wardrobe. The oaken doors swung open swiftly and silently. I sifted through the clothing draping itself from twenty or so hangers, until I came upon the tunic I would equip for the tournament. The gold embroidery gleamed against the expanse of ebony fabric. The elegant, golden designs danced across the borders of the tunic majestically, only coming to an end in the shape of a diamond situated on the front, surrounding the area where the heart would be, should someone be wearing it. In addition to this, I retrieved a pair of cream colored trousers. After taking a few minutes to swap outfits, I collected the amulet Variska had asked about from my closet, and slip it over my head; taking care to tuck it away, under my tunic. I spun on my heels, and found Vivit curled up on my bed, gazing out the window.

“I’ll be back tonight, Vivit,” I called, coaxing him out of his daydream. The snake nodded, and rested his head on his coiled body, drifting off into a deep sleep.

“The stadium’s larger than I thought…” Variska mumbled to herself as we approached the looming arena where the competition would take place. From the outside, the structure had roughly fifteen cylindrical pillars situated to form a circle, with a brick wall connecting all of them to make a pentadecagon. Each pillar had intricate carvings crafted into the material they were formed from, depicting all sorts of creatures and monsters from Spiral mythology. Two large circular windows occupied the walls vertically. On top of the pillars rested a gigantic semisphere, which formed the domed roof of the structure. The entire building was carved from marble, giving it an aura of regality. From the side Variska and I approached from, two immense oak doors coated in maroon paint stood between us and the arena.

I glanced over my shoulder at Variska, who was still staring at the architectural feat, and beckoned her over to me. I noted the skin tight body suit she had (for some reason unbeknownst to me) decided to wear for the event. Unsurprisingly, it was a deeper black than her own fur, with an opening in the back for her tail, which was flicking back and forth with either anticipation or anxiety.

“Nice suit,” I spat. The girl’s head whipped around to face me – a few locks of hair fluttering across her face in the process.

“I sincerely hope you don’t expect me to dignify that with a response.”

“You just did.” Naïve girl. We started towards the building, paying no heed to the other fighters swarming inside. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from fighting and/or killing residents of the Spiral, it’s that they’re either strong and stupid, or strategic, yet feeble. On the rare occasion do you find the fighter that meets both aspects, but even then; there’s always someone better than you.

The interior of the structure made both Variska and I stop and stare. Let alone the pure elegance and majesty, the inside seems so immense, I was nearly sure magic was used to make it fit. Lining every wall were marble bleachers which began halfway up the walls, and ascended until the top row reached the dome, steadily filling up with spectators. In the center was nothing more than cobblestone floors, with roughly fifty competitors already inside, mingling, and swapping stories of victories, their multitude of strategies, or boasting about their weapons and/or abilities. Variska seeped into the crowd (probably to flirt with the warriors) while I kept to myself in a more solitary portion of the ring; eyeing my competition and locating weak points (and to my disapproval, many were found).

Several more minutes went by, and the stream of competitors slowly dwindled down to a light trickle, until it ceased to produce any further opponents. At which point, the master of ceremonies emerged from (from what I could see as) nowhere to begin the competition. The fighters cleared out of the center of the arena, and directed their attention to the announcer. From what I could make out, he was a badger dressed in the attire of a jester.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the fourteenth annual Genus Campane, or Race of the Bells! I can see we have some eager faces both in the crowd and down on the field, so I’ll skip the formalities and skip right to the action! The competitors will face off in a single elimination tournament, with four competitors a round. For those who aren’t fluent in sport-speak, each contestant, upon admitting defeat once, thereby ceases to be eligible to advance further in the competition. The rules of the Race are simple. You can defeat your enemies – knocking them off the platform or forcing them to surrender – and ring the golden bell, or brave the arena’s traps and ring the bell. Either way, bells will be a-ringing!” I rolled my eyes in disgust. This guy needs to chill the fuck down. He continued, “Once a winner has been decided for this year, our victor will have bestowed upon them the legendary Blade of the Screaming Shadows; belonging to the late King Torak. Truly a prize to fight for.” He glanced around the field, and satisfied by the competitors, he started, “It appears all of our fighters are prepared for battle. And now if you will direct your attention upwards, we will reveal the first set of warriors.” In one synchronized motion, every soul in the arena craned their necks upwards to see who would have the (mis)fortune of being the opening act. Four faces appeared, along with their respective names.

Appearing over my head, the face of a Bear warrior, a Crab, a Krok, and a Draconian blinked into existence.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it appears our first set of fighters will be Hauggard Swiftfoot from Grizzleheim, Priscelli Slape from Celestia, Gartok Nje from Krokotopia, and Skraft Yvllavir from Dragonspyre! I would like to ask those four to step inside the white circle.” As if on cue, a circle of pulsating white light appeared in the center of the arena. The four fighters shoved through the crowd, and stepped inside. The second Nje’s back foot crossed over the line, the circle and that contained within began ascending, until it was level with the bottom row of spectators. The badger, who was also in the ring, went over the rules with the four competitors, and leaped (literally, he JUMPED OFF OF) the platform into the sea of warriors. I glanced over at Variska, who winked back at me. The badger, his demeanor, now less upbeat (thank God) directed his attention to the idle competitors.

“If I could have everyone follow me, I’ll guide you to our fighter’s wing, where there are refreshments, and a portal crystal in which you can watch the current matches.” A door opened in the wall of the arena, and the sea of warriors diminished into a lake, then a pond, then a puddle, and then one solitary fighter who had dropped their sword.

Upon entering the lounge, I was welcomed by a refreshing blast of icy air. I hadn’t noticed I was getting hot until it hit me. As promised, it had tables laid out with foods from across the Spiral, and a large purple crystal with a single perfectly flat side, which was now depicting the fighters atop the pedestal waiting for instruction. With the last contestant entering the lounge, the doors slammed shut, and the arena surrounding the platform flooded with water from an indiscernible source, until it reached halfway between the bottom row of bleachers, and the floor.

The badgers voice boomed over the stadium, and he shouted the one word the spectators were aching to hear.

“BEGIN!”