The Darkness Within Page 3

  A yellow fog drifted along the city’s borders and seemed to hang there like an overbearing mother over its child. As they progressed up the King’s Road, the mist overtook them. He smelled sulfur and noxious fumes. He did not remember this mist when he used to live here.

  "Menacing," Meza said.

  As they got closer to the front gates, a line of people had gathered waiting to pass through the entrance. A squadron of soldiers questioned and searched each traveler.

  A man said, "Do you believe this? We didn't have to wait in line before."

  Cyrus didn't say anything and turned to the ruckus at the front. A farmer on a small wagon was arguing. He wanted to enter the capital because his shipment of fresh fruit and vegetables were spoiling. The farmer yelled at the soldiers to let him through, but the guards kept pointing for him to get to the end of the line.

  Cyrus went up to one of the soldiers and said, "Why do you not let the farmer in first?"

  The guard said, "We need to keep an orderly line, sir. He will have to wait for his turn."

  A person in line said, "He can go before me."

  The farmer nodded and moved his cart. He thanked Cyrus and the other travelers. The soldiers inspected his cart and they let him inside. The guard motioned for Cyrus to come to him.

  An officer behind the guard said to Meza, "We did not call you."

  Meza said, "He is my cousin, sir. My dad told me to watch over him."

  Cyrus was surprised and wondered why Meza had to lie.

  "Okay, both of you follow me," the officer said.

  A few soldiers escorted them inside the walls of the capital and into a small room.

  The officer said, "Please sit. I have a few questions to ask you."

  Cyrus said, "Ask anything."

  He looked around the Spartan furnishings and cast his eyes behind the officer. A small window showed the streets of the city. He thought he saw a figure wearing a dark robe staring at him.

  "What is your business here?" the officer demanded.

  "I am here to see the Royal Magistrate to investigate into the murders happening at my village, Plathos," Cyrus said.

  "Well, a crusader, you have come a few leagues to get here," the officer said. "What is your name?"

  "Cyrus Boris," he said.

  "I see," the officer said, while sitting back into his chair. "Well, Cyrus Boris, I have just received a royal summons for you."

  The officer took from inside his uniform a tan envelope and handed it to him.

  "Make sure you attend," the officer said.

  "Yes, officer."

  Cyrus and Meza walked into the capital. A large throng of people milled about. He did not remember this city being so crowded. He almost lost Meza several times. Cyrus found a walkway which led into a small park. People were sparse in this area. He felt that he could finally breathe.

  He sat down at the closest bench. His name was written in gold lettering in the front of the envelope. He turned it over and opened it. A thick parchment paper with embellished script read, "Cyrus, you are required to convene with the Emperor on the 1st day of the Summer Solstice at the Grand Ballroom."

  Meza said, "You are either an important person, or you are in trouble."

  "I am neither one of those. Maybe the emperor remembered me when I was friends with the princess. How did he know I was coming here?" Cyrus said.

  "Maybe the constable of your town sent a message," Meza said.

  He said, "I didn't tell anybody I was taking this trip. Except the headmaster of my school."

  "Bah, it does not matter," Meza said, "Where are we going now?"

  He said, "To see the Royal Magistrate."

  •••

  Cyrus was footsore but he trudged on. Meza didn’t complain. They turned into the merchant district noting at the wide variety of people selling their wares. The smell of fresh bread wafted in the air.

  He said to a nearby guard, "Sir, do you know where the Royal Magistrate office is located?"

  The guard said, "Take a left down this street, and you should see the sign."

  They followed the guard’s directions and found the Royal Magistrate office sandwiched between two red brick buildings.

  Meza said, "Cyrus, I will wait for you outside."

  Cyrus decided not to argue and walked up the steps into the office. A large bear of man greeted him from behind an oak desk.

  "What do you need, sir?"

  Cyrus said, "I need to see the Royal Magistrate."

  "Do you have an appointment?" the man said.

  "No," Cyrus said.

  "You will have to get an appointment."

  "Sir, I am here because of an urgent matter. Kids are being murdered," Cyrus said.

  The man peered at him with a bored expression and said, "I would need your name. Where do you live?"

  Cyrus came closer to this man and said, "You do not understand. I live in the small town of Plathos. Kids have been massacred."

  The man said, "Your local constable can handle your affairs."

  "I want to see the Royal Magistrate now!"

  The man said, "Get out of here. Guards!"

  Several large soldiers came out. Cyrus stepped back and left.

  He walked down the steps, shaking his head.

  "What happened?" Meza said.

  "I was told to leave," he said.

  CHAPTER 5

  Cyrus travelled along the streets taking various turns and alleyways. He was puzzled and walked around bewildered.

  Meza said, "Do you know where your friend lives?"

  "Everything seems different. I need to go back to the merchant district," Cyrus said.

  "Bah, why didn’t you say so," Meza said.

  Meza led the way. He scanned his whereabouts and nodded, then strolled down a pathway. Cyrus followed. His sense of direction failed him. He could not see the old landmarks he knew. Things had changed. The streets were smaller and the buildings more squat. A few horse-drawn wagons shambled along the street scattering people. Beggars littered every street corner and storefront. He kept following Meza into the maze of the city.

  Cyrus scanned the building and stores. He pushed his way through the folks pressing against him. Storefront owners yelled their wares.

  "What are we looking for?" Meza asked.

  "I’m looking for the Blue Tavern," Cyrus said.

  "It’s down this way," Meza said.

  They took an alley down to another street. The haze grew dense and obscured the buildings.

  "Doesn’t this fog ever disperse?" Cyrus said.

  "Never, it has been like this for several years," Meza said.

  "It makes my skin itch."

  "You will get used to it." Meza said, "There it is. The Blue Tavern."

  They picked their way through the street and went into the bar. A fireplace gave them warmth and light. Cyrus didn’t see anybody he recognized. Maybe he was mistaken, he thought, and was about to leave when a booming voice sounded from the kitchen. A man walked from a set of swinging doors. He was tall and gaunt, holding a large towel. He was still staring into the kitchen yelling about something or another. The man’s back was toward them.

  "Things never change," Cyrus said.

  The man turned toward him. The scowl the man had in his face turned to a huge smile.

  "Cyrus, I can’t believe it. You are here," the man said.

  He said, "I just came back to the capital for ..."

  Jacob gave him a bear hug. He said, "Before you say anything else. Let’s have a drink."

  They followed him to a back room adjoining the tavern. Jacob left to get some food.

  Cyrus said, "Jacob is the proprietor of the Blue Tavern."

  Jacob came back carrying mugs of ale, fresh bread and butter. He said, "You should have sent me a message that you were coming. Things are different now."

  "It’s good to see you," Cyrus said, while eating a large piece of bread.

  Jacob said, "I know you did not want to be here. Under
the circumstance, I would have never come back myself."

  "I miss this place and I need to visit my parents," Cyrus said.

  Jacob said, "We need to talk later tonight. I have some guests to attend. There is lodging down the street from here called the Whisper Inn. Just tell them you are my friend. You will get a cheap price."

  Cyrus and Meza ate their meal. Cyrus was tired and wanted to take a nap before night came. They left and procured lodging at the hotel. Cyrus felt someone was spying on them as they left the bar. He didn’t see anybody following them. Cyrus thought it was his imagination getting the best of him. Meza didn’t seem to notice.

  •••

  Meza was not tired and decided to go to the Wizard’s Guild. The guild was located in the scholar district where the Royal Academy and the prestigious Collegiate University was located. He saw a castle jutting into the sky. The arches and towers from a distance were impressive. The emperor had grand plans for his new Royal Castle. However, squinting at the castle’s construction filled him with trepidation. He saw the guild and was puzzled by a soldier standing in the doorway.

  "My name is Meza Warlium, and I belong to the Wizard’s Guild."

  The guard said, "Sir, I do not know you by face or name. If you do not have the proper badge of membership, you cannot enter."

  Meza grumbled. He knew things had changed but membership badges and guards in front of the guild surprised him.

  Meza said, "I have been a member since Master Darthel passed away. Let me enter."

  The guard did not move a bit. Meza’s temper was rising. He was going to show this guard what his magic would do to him.

  "Let him in, you fool. Don’t you know a powerful mage when you see one?" a voice from inside said.

  The guard moved away. Meza smirked. He walked through the entrance. The dark brown furnishings smelled of fresh oak scented with roses. Floating candles illuminated the inside. He walked up to the reception area. A man Meza knew sat behind a large counter with a leather bound book.

  "Meza," the man said.

  "Erlemano, it’s been a long time."

  "Why do you have a guard? The magic surrounding the building will stop any attacks," Meza said.

  "Ah, Meza, you do not know," Erlemano said, "Ever since the murders of the children, people have been blaming the Wizard’s Guild. They tried to go past our defenses."

  "No, I hadn’t heard. I know about the murders but why blame the Wizard’s Guild?"

  "Ah, I do not know. So, what brings you back here?" Erlemano said.

  "I need to see Master Randall."

  "I’ll summon him. It’s good to see you back here," he said.

  "So does the Wizard’s Guild know who is committing these murders?"

  "I only heard snippets of what the High Chamber had been investigating. Meza, can I ask you something?" Erlemano said.

  Meza nodded his head.

  Erlemano said, "Did you feel that magical tremor last night? Something is here in the city. I can feel it."

  "No, I did not."

  Erlemano said, "The High Chamber held a special emergency meeting last night because of this tremor. It felt like huge energies exploding. Even in my old bones I can feel the taint of black magic."

  Meza’s face was warm. He wanted to say something about Cyrus. However, Meza needed to research the matter before he could do anything. He knew which book to consult. He just needed time to read it. He hoped Randall forgave him.

  "So, the wandering wizard is back," Randall said, while materializing in front of him.

  "Hello, Randall," Meza said.

  "I could have sent you away but Master Darthel was a dear friend of mine," Randall said.

  He said, "I need a favor."

  "Why should I grant this favor, Meza Warlium," Randall said.

  "Consider it a request from Darthel"

  "Walk with me," Randall said.

  Meza followed him down a long hallway into a small courtyard garden.

  Randall said, "Meza, what do you ask of me?"

  "I need to seek knowledge in the archives."

  "I have read all the books and tomes. I have all the knowledge you need," Randall said.

  He knew this was true. He told Randall about the magical medallion. He explained he saw this charm during his travels. He did not mention Cyrus.

  Randall said, "I heard about this type of medallion before, but I need to make sure."

  Magical energy encased him. It was a simple transport spell. Meza found himself in a large multi-chambered room with shelves filled from ceiling to floor with books and scrolls. The air was musty with age. Meza sent a small location spell, but it did not work.

  Randall smiled and said, "Do not try to find this location. I protected it with magical wards."

  Meza was disappointed but not surprised. All the ancient tomes and books of spells resided in this chamber. Meza followed Randall while he shifted through corridors.

  "Here we are," Randall said coming toward a small stack of books. He waved his hands in concentric patterns, and the books rearranged themselves. A book hidden underneath the stack floated to the top and then move toward them. Randall thumbed through the thick pages. The paper was brown with age and smelled of mold. Randall shook his head.

  "Is this what you saw?" Randall said.

  Meza peered into the book. The page held an ink drawing of a medallion. The inscription was in an ancient language he couldn't understand.

  "Yes, it is."

  "It is called a Rathraka, an ancient form of magic. Only the highest master mage can create these medallions," Randall said.

  "Is it tainted by evil?" he asked.

  Randall hesitated and said, "No."

  "You need to bring it to me," Randall said, "We need to keep it safe."

  "Randall," he said, "I think I lost it in the forest."

  "Where?" Randall said.

  "Near the abandoned caves."

  "Why did you come here if you lost it?" Randall said.

  "I was just curious about the charm."

  "Is there something you are not telling me?" Randall said.

  "No."

  Randall waved his hands, and the world shifted and dimmed. They were back in the small courtyard garden.

  He said, "Your favor is now ended."

  Randall ushered him out to the front entrance to the Wizard’s Guild.

  "Are the Clandestine Mages still in existence?" Meza said.

  Randall stopped.

  He said, "The Clandestines are only legends. Now our meeting is over. I do not think you are still a member of the guild."

  Meza stepped out of the building and walked toward his lodging. The night has fallen over the city, and Meza wanted to get to Cyrus to warn him.

  CHAPTER 6

  Cyrus awoke. A noise was coming from the front door of his room. He heard whispers and scuffling from the outside. Groggily, he moved toward the door and was about to open it when an envelope was shoved underneath. The whispers ceased and footsteps echoed down the corridor. Cyrus opened the envelope. The note said, "Cyrus, I need to see you tonight at 8:00 at our secret place. N." He sat on his bed and remembered how they fought the last time they talked.

  He decided to leave before he changed his mind. He didn’t write a message for Meza. He decided against it. He changed his clothes and went downstairs to get some dinner. He ate among the denizens staying at the inn. He sat alone preferring his own company and counsel. After eating, Cyrus stepped out into the night. He wondered if he could still get in after all these years. He marched down a street and realized he didn't know how to get to the garden. A man jostled him by accident. It was the old farmer.

  "Hello," Cyrus said, "Do you know how to get to the King's Garden?"

  "Ahh, sure, just keep walking until you see the gates of the Royal district, then turn left and you should be there," the farmer said scratching his head.

  "Sir, thanks again for helping me at the front gate. My fruits and vegetables gave a mighty pri
ce today."

  The farmers gave him a few gold pieces. Cyrus tried to give it back to him but the old man would not take it. He followed the farmer's directions and saw the Royal castle’s spires. His hands convulsed. Cyrus felt in the pit of his stomach a deep dread. He got moving.

  When Cyrus was a young boy, he played along the jasmine trees and water lilies with his true love. No matter how angry he was at her, he always forgave her. Their secret place was near the pond next to a large willow tree in the King's Garden. They used to meet there when they had problems or just wanted to talk. Cyrus listened, enchanted just being next to her. Cyrus found the entrance to the park after walking around in circles. A tall iron gate announced the entry. The gate was locked. Only the aristocrats could enter. He walked around the wall protecting the grounds. Cyrus knew another way to get inside, if it was still there. He crouched low and moved in the shadows.

  He looked around for the guards that always patrolled this district. He heard some chatter and footsteps. Cyrus moved further into the darkness of an alleyway. Out in the night, two guards walked along the streets. They talked about their day not discerning that Cyrus was hiding just a few feet away from them. When the guards where gone, he ran along the entrance to the garden. He was looking for a certain tree. Cyrus heard the guards’ voices again coming closer. He heard the scrape of boots behind him. Cyrus froze sheltered behind a large bush.

  A guard said, "I thought I heard something a moment ago."

  "It must be your imagination. Our shift is almost done. Let’s finish this tour and patrol the aristocrat’s mansions."

  Cyrus saw them turn a corner. He found the tree. It was large, spreading its branches over the wall. He affectionately called the tree the grandfather. He found it just a foot from where he stood. The branches were still strong after all these years. He climbed the branches, jumping on the limbs so he could get over the wall. He marveled after all these years how this tree was not trimmed or cut down. He landed on the ground. It was easy getting inside, but harder getting out. The princess never had that problem. Her home was next to the park.