Post by Guardsman Patrick on Oct 12, 2006 23:07:34 GMT -5
Chapter 24: Receding Darkness
Ulptian, Pairon and Kage took flight over the army, taking out as many of them as they could before they made it out of the clearing. Alex, Rachel and Patrick stood watching the last of the soldiers leave the clearing, not worth running after. The shadow they had brought receded as well, following behind them like a puppy with its tail between its legs.
Alex dropped to his knees as the final ones left, dropping his sword beside himself. It was finally over; they had succeeded. They had lost everything in the process, but they had gained so much more.
Alex gained the freedom of knowing that the shadow over his head was finally gone. He had learned more about the Orbs as well and all the power that they held inside. He learned not to fear anything and to love and protect those he kept close. Each and everything he saw around him was more meaningful to him now that his vision was not fogged by the worries of tomorrow.
Patrick walked away knowing that his father and family did not die in vain. He was now one step closer to his future and avenging the lost. He was one step closer to that which bound him to this group, the thought that all Andorg, not just the city, but the entire isle of Andorg could be free of evil and hatred. He now had a future, and he now had another family, a family closer than anything one person should have. He was now, after a lot of struggle and hardship, able to use his power to a grate extent than he knew possible, and control it in a way that would make his father proud.
Rachel was reunited with her dear friend Kage, and had people that she could trust with her life. She finally had the friends she thought would never come, and had more control over her life than ever. She could finally go home to see her parents and know that she was welcome in their home. She knew that they would be relieved of financial burden and could raise her baby cousin who had come to live with them because his parent’s lives were taken by the dangerous city. She had everything she wanted.
The dragons had gained each other. They had a sort of makeshift family of their own. They knew each other well, and they knew they could lean on their new family through challenge and adversity. They had learned that, though each of them was different, whether species, size or color, they were still the same, and ready to protect one another.
The storm cleared up, and the tower continued to sink, only the tip of the stone dragon’s wings showing. Alex looked on and couldn’t help but chuckle a little. He wondered how he would explain to the council that nearly two hundred thousand dollars of funds was attacked by an army, hit by a disastrous storm that brewed up from nowhere, followed by an energy wave that hit it head on, and then sank to the bottom of a pit of lava that was in a fault that had never existed before. He wondered if they would simply excuse all that and let him build another, more protected one. He drew out the plans in his head, hoping that they would be useful eventually.
Zanthor climbed out of the tank in the underground bunker of the A.O.T. building. He punched the side furiously. They had failed miserably. He knew he would catch grief when he told his master. He would probably be dishonorably retired. He wouldn’t even get a chance to shoot for being the next leader, because they would have somebody else by the time he got close enough to get the position.
“Arcane!” Zanthor whistled and all the troops lined up immediately before him in neat rows. Arcane was the last one out, walking to the fourth row, fifth from the right, and stood at attention. Zanthor walked over to him punched him across the face quickly, knocking him into the floor.
“Now, that is for disobeying me in combat. You do what I tell you, whether you want to or not.” Zanthor kicked him in the side, nearly breaking his ribs. “You may not love me, you may not like me, you can even hate my guts and want me to burst into flames, but you will respect me and my word, because I’m your boss.”
Arcane stood up, coughing hard before he straightened entirely. He just brushed off his suit and stood at attention again, acting as if nothing had happened.
“Now, soldier, I want you to give me a head count. Do not miss anyone, or there will be worse than just a little roughing up.” Zanthor walked down the row and up the stairs to the catwalk. This was the part of his job that he hated. This was the part where he’d have to take responsibility for the actions of the entire army, not just his own.
The elevator opened before him, allowing him to step in. He turned and hit the button for his destination and the elevator groaned into action. Each floor passed, and each one drew him closer to what he really didn’t want to have to do. The doors slid open to reveal the darkened room again, and Zanthor stepped out, wiping the cold sweat off his forehead. He knew he would not enjoy speaking with the shadows.
“Zanthor, you look pale. You’re beginning to worry me,” the shadow had a hiss about him. He knew what was coming; he just wanted to wait until the fears were confirmed.
“Sir, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I am afraid that it is my duty to do so,” Zanthor said as he folded his handkerchief back up and put it in his uniform’s pocket, “We went into the battle with nearly the entire regiment, nearly six hundred men, one hundred and twenty tanks and sixty of our top jets.”
The shadow was quiet waiting to hear how many returned. Everything in the room was quiet.
“We returned with ninety four men, no planes and thirty four tanks. None of the targets were annihilated, and a new dragon has joined into their ranks. I am sorry to report that the mission was an utter failure. The only target that was taken was the tower, and it has been destroyed completely.” At least there was a little good news in it all, but it didn’t amount to much.
“What has become of General Shade, Zanthor?” the shadow asked calmly, sounding faintly worried.
“He did not return with us. We assume that the boy took his life.” Zanthor hadn’t thought about it until just now, and didn’t realize until now how close his master must have been to Shade. He himself was even beginning to like him a little before the battle had started.
“You are dismissed General, and do not bother returning to me unless it is an emergency, or if you are dead,” the shadow did not sound pleased in the slightest. The shadow felt it had lost a son to this wars mighty hand.
Zanthor bowed and backed out of the room, keeping his head bent down facing the ground. He noticed the air was strange here, as if it was stagnant. It must have been him, he wasn’t feeling well anyway. As he reentered the elevator, it all came to him. He had been blind to it before, and ignored it. His eyes opened wide in awe. Shade must have been connected to the master in a way deeper than friendship and trust. He pulled the necklace out of his pocket and looked at the symbol, remembering the Orb that Shade had received. They must have both known its power. They were both users of it, and they were both corrupted by it. They were almost the same, and yet they were both so different.
Arcane walked between the soldiers, trying to see what the commotion was. He pushed many to the side to see if he could get a good view. Everyone was staring up at the catwalk, looking at Zanthor as he stood above them. He leaned over the rail of the catwalk and began to speak.
“I stand before you as a General, but also as a servant of my master, the same as you. I have come to tell you all that I am sorry for putting each and every one of you in harms way, but mostly, I stand before you to tell you that we have lost someone important, someone that was key to our victory. We have lost General Shade. I have come to realize just how close he was to our master. I do not know how they were connected, but that is not important. I want each and every one of you to honor his memory and honor the fact that he was our general.” Zanthor gazed over his entire audience. Each and every set of eyes was on him, even Arcane’s.
Arcane could see that Zanthor wasn’t feeling well at all. He looked very pale. He even looked sickly, as if he had just grown older.
“If I hear that any of you have disrespected his name, I will personally take care of you,” Zanthor’s good eye seemed to be puffed up, making him look upset. “Now, I want you each preparing the defenses. We are weaker than ever before and we are now a target.” Zanthor turned and walked down the cat walk, and collapsed about fifteen feet away from where he had given his speech.
Arcane was the first one up the stairs, running to Zanthor’s side. He ordered the next few men up the stairs to get water and a room for him. He wasted no time getting Zanthor’s crumpled body slung over his shoulder and began to haul him over to the elevator following the three other soldiers that would prepare the room.
“You don’t need to help me soldier,” Zanthor whispered. He didn’t seem to be doing well at all.
“That’s what a soldier does,” Arcane said as he jumped out of the elevator and into the room that had once been Shade’s.
Alex walked around the clearing, looking at each and every body to see if they were all dead. He was hoping all of them weren’t dead, and one of them could give him some answers. He walked all the way around and noticed nothing. He didn’t see anyone moving, breathing or even alive. Something near the lava pit caught his eye. It was black and nearly matched the color of the grass. He ran up to it and picked it up, seeing that it was Shade’s jacket. It must have blown off the tower’s top as they fought in the storm. He saw that it was tattered and ripped along the left arm. This was the jacket he had worn during the previous fight with Alex.
He slipped in his right arm, then his left, he saw that it fit him well. He looked down at the tattered sleeve, spying his scar ran along the tear perfectly.
Ulptian, Pairon and Kage took flight over the army, taking out as many of them as they could before they made it out of the clearing. Alex, Rachel and Patrick stood watching the last of the soldiers leave the clearing, not worth running after. The shadow they had brought receded as well, following behind them like a puppy with its tail between its legs.
Alex dropped to his knees as the final ones left, dropping his sword beside himself. It was finally over; they had succeeded. They had lost everything in the process, but they had gained so much more.
Alex gained the freedom of knowing that the shadow over his head was finally gone. He had learned more about the Orbs as well and all the power that they held inside. He learned not to fear anything and to love and protect those he kept close. Each and everything he saw around him was more meaningful to him now that his vision was not fogged by the worries of tomorrow.
Patrick walked away knowing that his father and family did not die in vain. He was now one step closer to his future and avenging the lost. He was one step closer to that which bound him to this group, the thought that all Andorg, not just the city, but the entire isle of Andorg could be free of evil and hatred. He now had a future, and he now had another family, a family closer than anything one person should have. He was now, after a lot of struggle and hardship, able to use his power to a grate extent than he knew possible, and control it in a way that would make his father proud.
Rachel was reunited with her dear friend Kage, and had people that she could trust with her life. She finally had the friends she thought would never come, and had more control over her life than ever. She could finally go home to see her parents and know that she was welcome in their home. She knew that they would be relieved of financial burden and could raise her baby cousin who had come to live with them because his parent’s lives were taken by the dangerous city. She had everything she wanted.
The dragons had gained each other. They had a sort of makeshift family of their own. They knew each other well, and they knew they could lean on their new family through challenge and adversity. They had learned that, though each of them was different, whether species, size or color, they were still the same, and ready to protect one another.
The storm cleared up, and the tower continued to sink, only the tip of the stone dragon’s wings showing. Alex looked on and couldn’t help but chuckle a little. He wondered how he would explain to the council that nearly two hundred thousand dollars of funds was attacked by an army, hit by a disastrous storm that brewed up from nowhere, followed by an energy wave that hit it head on, and then sank to the bottom of a pit of lava that was in a fault that had never existed before. He wondered if they would simply excuse all that and let him build another, more protected one. He drew out the plans in his head, hoping that they would be useful eventually.
* * *
Zanthor climbed out of the tank in the underground bunker of the A.O.T. building. He punched the side furiously. They had failed miserably. He knew he would catch grief when he told his master. He would probably be dishonorably retired. He wouldn’t even get a chance to shoot for being the next leader, because they would have somebody else by the time he got close enough to get the position.
“Arcane!” Zanthor whistled and all the troops lined up immediately before him in neat rows. Arcane was the last one out, walking to the fourth row, fifth from the right, and stood at attention. Zanthor walked over to him punched him across the face quickly, knocking him into the floor.
“Now, that is for disobeying me in combat. You do what I tell you, whether you want to or not.” Zanthor kicked him in the side, nearly breaking his ribs. “You may not love me, you may not like me, you can even hate my guts and want me to burst into flames, but you will respect me and my word, because I’m your boss.”
Arcane stood up, coughing hard before he straightened entirely. He just brushed off his suit and stood at attention again, acting as if nothing had happened.
“Now, soldier, I want you to give me a head count. Do not miss anyone, or there will be worse than just a little roughing up.” Zanthor walked down the row and up the stairs to the catwalk. This was the part of his job that he hated. This was the part where he’d have to take responsibility for the actions of the entire army, not just his own.
The elevator opened before him, allowing him to step in. He turned and hit the button for his destination and the elevator groaned into action. Each floor passed, and each one drew him closer to what he really didn’t want to have to do. The doors slid open to reveal the darkened room again, and Zanthor stepped out, wiping the cold sweat off his forehead. He knew he would not enjoy speaking with the shadows.
“Zanthor, you look pale. You’re beginning to worry me,” the shadow had a hiss about him. He knew what was coming; he just wanted to wait until the fears were confirmed.
“Sir, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I am afraid that it is my duty to do so,” Zanthor said as he folded his handkerchief back up and put it in his uniform’s pocket, “We went into the battle with nearly the entire regiment, nearly six hundred men, one hundred and twenty tanks and sixty of our top jets.”
The shadow was quiet waiting to hear how many returned. Everything in the room was quiet.
“We returned with ninety four men, no planes and thirty four tanks. None of the targets were annihilated, and a new dragon has joined into their ranks. I am sorry to report that the mission was an utter failure. The only target that was taken was the tower, and it has been destroyed completely.” At least there was a little good news in it all, but it didn’t amount to much.
“What has become of General Shade, Zanthor?” the shadow asked calmly, sounding faintly worried.
“He did not return with us. We assume that the boy took his life.” Zanthor hadn’t thought about it until just now, and didn’t realize until now how close his master must have been to Shade. He himself was even beginning to like him a little before the battle had started.
“You are dismissed General, and do not bother returning to me unless it is an emergency, or if you are dead,” the shadow did not sound pleased in the slightest. The shadow felt it had lost a son to this wars mighty hand.
Zanthor bowed and backed out of the room, keeping his head bent down facing the ground. He noticed the air was strange here, as if it was stagnant. It must have been him, he wasn’t feeling well anyway. As he reentered the elevator, it all came to him. He had been blind to it before, and ignored it. His eyes opened wide in awe. Shade must have been connected to the master in a way deeper than friendship and trust. He pulled the necklace out of his pocket and looked at the symbol, remembering the Orb that Shade had received. They must have both known its power. They were both users of it, and they were both corrupted by it. They were almost the same, and yet they were both so different.
* * *
Arcane walked between the soldiers, trying to see what the commotion was. He pushed many to the side to see if he could get a good view. Everyone was staring up at the catwalk, looking at Zanthor as he stood above them. He leaned over the rail of the catwalk and began to speak.
“I stand before you as a General, but also as a servant of my master, the same as you. I have come to tell you all that I am sorry for putting each and every one of you in harms way, but mostly, I stand before you to tell you that we have lost someone important, someone that was key to our victory. We have lost General Shade. I have come to realize just how close he was to our master. I do not know how they were connected, but that is not important. I want each and every one of you to honor his memory and honor the fact that he was our general.” Zanthor gazed over his entire audience. Each and every set of eyes was on him, even Arcane’s.
Arcane could see that Zanthor wasn’t feeling well at all. He looked very pale. He even looked sickly, as if he had just grown older.
“If I hear that any of you have disrespected his name, I will personally take care of you,” Zanthor’s good eye seemed to be puffed up, making him look upset. “Now, I want you each preparing the defenses. We are weaker than ever before and we are now a target.” Zanthor turned and walked down the cat walk, and collapsed about fifteen feet away from where he had given his speech.
Arcane was the first one up the stairs, running to Zanthor’s side. He ordered the next few men up the stairs to get water and a room for him. He wasted no time getting Zanthor’s crumpled body slung over his shoulder and began to haul him over to the elevator following the three other soldiers that would prepare the room.
“You don’t need to help me soldier,” Zanthor whispered. He didn’t seem to be doing well at all.
“That’s what a soldier does,” Arcane said as he jumped out of the elevator and into the room that had once been Shade’s.
* * *
Alex walked around the clearing, looking at each and every body to see if they were all dead. He was hoping all of them weren’t dead, and one of them could give him some answers. He walked all the way around and noticed nothing. He didn’t see anyone moving, breathing or even alive. Something near the lava pit caught his eye. It was black and nearly matched the color of the grass. He ran up to it and picked it up, seeing that it was Shade’s jacket. It must have blown off the tower’s top as they fought in the storm. He saw that it was tattered and ripped along the left arm. This was the jacket he had worn during the previous fight with Alex.
He slipped in his right arm, then his left, he saw that it fit him well. He looked down at the tattered sleeve, spying his scar ran along the tear perfectly.