Darkfall: Rise of the Phienyx

[Phienyx]

My father, Kraven Phienyx was not a good man. What little I learned about him was told to me by my mother when I was a young boy. Even then, all she would tell me is that he was not a good man and it would be better off if I never met him. What I know now, I didn’t learn until I was older and it nearly destroyed me.

I was impurely conceived….the product of rape. My mother was one of the unfortunate victims of Kraven Phienyx’s lust when the army of nomadic bandits he rode with laid a 6 month siege and occupation of Monkfield. I am his first born son. As with most human clans, it was believed that all first born males carried not only the purest of the bloodline, but with that came an exceptional strength, power and authority. My mother told me that I am the 101st in an unbroken line of first born of first born sons of the Phienyx clan. To conceal my identity as well as fearing retaliation from his enemies, my mother refused to give me my father’s sir name, instead calling me by her own family sir name of Drake.

My mother knew that once my father became aware of my existance, he would come for me, so she took me and fled west, to Mirdain controlled territory. The trek took several weeks and was fraught with imminent peril at every turn. We survived Agon’s dangerous wildlife and all manner of malevolent mystical beings that stalked the vast wilderness. We traversed the territories of our racial enemies as well as managing to stay out of the clutches of the roaming groups of bandits that terrorized the travel ways of Agon. Most of the trip was made on our own with fear and death becoming our constant companions, but occasionally, we found a good Samaritan or a brave soul that was able to provide safety, food, shelter and protection. Once we reached our destination, were taken in by a tribe of wise and gracious Mirdain who were known in their region for their exceptional crafting abilities..

The Mirdain helped to keep my mother and I hidden and safe for years. Tolwyn Lightborne, a retired soldier and weaponsmith, took a special interest in our plight and made us his personal responsibility; keeping a faithful and ever watchful eye out for us. We never stayed in any one town or hamlet for more than a year before moving to the next for fear of being tracked down by my father, yet Tolwyn was right there as guide and protector. Lightborne, despite his age, was deceptively agile and hadn’t lost much from his days when he served with the Mirdain military. Though quiet, soft spoken and humble, in combat, he was unnervingly aggressive, yet smooth, fluid and graceful as was the Mirdain style. I came to love and admire him greatly as a mentor and as a warrior.

Mirdain culture forbade the mixing of racial blood lines, but Tolwyn adored my mother and was a constant companion to her and a mentor to me. My mother loved and trusted him for what he did for us, I will never forget him. Tolwyn Lightborne is the reason that I live today and the reason that I did not chose another more unfortunate path in life. In the 12 cycles I new him, he instilled in me a sense of honor, helped me understand the importance of brutality in both combat and in speaking truth with every word I utter.
He taught me much about life and manhood as well as combat skills such as horsemanship, swordsmanship and archery. I remember asking Tolwyn about the use of magic one day after observing the town mage demonstrating to two of his apprentices the basics of the magical arts. His answer was short and to the point. He told me that the use of magic was reserved for those with a certain balanced mental temperament and that in the wrong hands the power of magic easily had the potential to corrupt even those who began learning it with the purest intentions. He then told me, in no uncertain terms that due to my aggressive nature and mental temperament; it was not a path on which I should embark.

Though we were generally treated with kindness, as I got older I became more and more aware of the differences between myself and our “family” and the Mirdain children and their families. I began to ask questions of both my mother and Tolwyn such as why my mother’s and my skin was so much darker than the others around us? Why our eyes and ears didn’t look the same as the Mirdain’s? Where were the other people that looked like us? A few of the questions I asked, they were not prepared to answer. I wanted to know why I didn’t have a father like the other children and what happened to him. No one knew it, but the path that led to the answer to this question would soon be tragically revealed.

We were living in a fairly quiet hamlet called Inarith, just southwest of the bustling trade center of King’s Holdfast. I was nearly 16 at the time; out in the field chopping wood when felt something strange. At first, it was a subtle vibration in the ground which began to grow with intensity until it was an audible rumble which caused the nearby vegetation to shake. I stopped chopping and turned, trying to locate the exact direction of the sound. I immediately sensed trouble when I spotted a multitude of mounted warriors crest a nearby hill at a full charge, pursuing 3 mounted Mirdain scouts on Eradans. I ran for my horse, detached the cart I was using to carry the timber I was gathering, as quickly as I could and vaulted onto its bare back. Kicking him into a full gallop, I raced as fast as I could toward Inarith which was just out of visual range. Risking another glance back, I could see that this was not one of the usual small Alfar raid parties that like to harass the nearby villages from time to time. This appeared to be a full blown assault force. I attempted to coax more speed from my horse, but to no avail. This poor animal was not build for speed like the mounts that were slowly gaining ground on me. I looked back again and could make out human, Alfar, Mahirim, and even other Mirdain on various types of mounts. Some of the wolf-like Mahirim, didn’t bother with mounts and were sprinting on all fours just as fast as those who were on mounts. A cold shudder went down my spine. Alfar were vile, evil and vicious little beings by nature and they repulsed me, but Maharim truly terrified me. These were truly unholy beasts of prey that were both physically and mentally intimidating. They were one of many terrors that stalked us during our flight across Agon and now stalked me in my nightmares.

[Phienyx]

(Continued)

By the time I reached Inarith, word of the incoming raid party had already reached the inhabitants. People were running everywhere. Hiding in and attempting to fortify their homes. Some were already fleeing in the direction of nearby Kings Holdfast. Many of the men, young and old were taking up whatever arms could be found and were preparing to defend their homes and families. I was prepared to join them, but I needed to arm myself. I ran up the winding ramp to our modest tree home and burst through the door, heart thumping in fear and a strange excitement. It was apparent I had interrupted an earnest conversation between my mother and Tolwyn. They both looked at me solemnly then back at each other. My mother’s eyes were red as if she’d been crying.

“So be it,” Tolwyn said gruffly to my mother, then turned to me. “Let us go, boy. Pack a few supplies and meet me at the stables and be quick.”

“What?” I protested. “Why are we running? We need to stay and fight!”

“Not this time, my boy. Today we run. We run far and fast.” Before I could argue further, Tolwyn turned to my mother and grabbed her by the shoulders gently, then without another word, disappeared quickly toward the rear of the treehouse and out the back door.

I looked at my mother in disbelief. She rushed past me and quickly began packing food into a backpack, without a word. I followed behind her, attempting to get a handle on why I was being rushed away from home when we needed able bodied fighters to defend the city and most importantly, why she was not coming. As she bustled around gathering various supplies to send with me, she was attempting to stifle sobs in between trying to give me advice about how to survive on my own. She finally shoved my backpack, my bedroll and my sword into my hand. It was only after that that she looked at me with tears streaming down her cheeks,
“You must go, son. Your father has come for you and he must not find you.” My father?! I was speechless as she pulled close and hugged me as if for the last time. I hugged her closely, not wanting to let go and unable to speak mostly because I was choking back the lump in my throat. My mind was reeling in confusion and overloaded with unanswered questions. “I know you want to fight, son but if you stay around here, you endanger those around you because he will stop at nothing to get his hands on you.”

Just then, I heard Tolwyn whistle up to me from below. It was the special whistle we used to communicate with each other when out hunting. My mother pushed me away from her and reached up to stroke my face.

“You must go, Alexander. Live and do great things with your life and never forget that I love you.”

As I hurried down the ramp from our treehouse, I could hear the first sounds of battle coming from the far side of the Hamlet. I looked back up, but my mother had already closed the door. That’s when the anger set in.

I turned and walked briskly toward Tolwyn who was standing beside the two horses he had prepared for travel for us. Looking anxious and impatient, he started to mount his steed as I approached.

“I’m not going anywhere!” I shouted. It was time for me to assert my manhood, I had made a decision and I was going to stick to it. I wasn’t going to desert the people who had been so kind to us nor was I going to leave my mother to fend for herself. “I will fight to the death if need be. I owe the people of this Inarith that much.”

Tolwyn stopped mid mount and stepped back down from his horse. He had a look in his eye I had never seen before and it was a look that sent a chill down my spine. It wasn’t the usual stern look of a mentor or father. It was the cold, vicious glare of a warrior prepared to kill. He drew his sword as he approached me. Startled, I back peddled as quickly as I could, bringing my own sword to guard position. He feinted to the left and I moved to avoid but only finding his blade at my throat. His eyes blazed in anger as he looked beyond me back toward the other side of town from which the assault force was quickly advancing. The sounds of battle and the screams of the town inhabitants were getting closer. Tolwyn’s blade did not waver an inch.

“You will mount your horse right now and ride out with me, you foolish imbecile! I will kill you myself before I let you stay and be taken.” His tone was one I’d never heard before.

I responded, but most of the force and belligerence was now gone from my tone.

“They won’t take me. They will have to kill me.”

Tolwyn leaned in close. His blade still had not moved and was hovering no more than an inch from my throat. “They are not here to kill you, boy!” Tolwyn spoke clearly and deliberately. “If these men get their hands on you, you will WISH they would have killed you. You will be forced to do things that will destroy your very soul. Now lets go!”

Stunned, I complied without further protest.

Now that I know why my mother so urgently wanted me to flee, I do not doubt that Tolwyn would have followed through with his promise to kill me himself, even though it would have broken his heart to do so. It would have been to spare me a far worse fate because Kraven Phienyx had come looking for me, his first born. They both knew the irresistible sway and seduction of the path my father had taken and both knew that at my young impressionable age, I would not have stood a chance of resisting his influence to follow him down that same path.

Even as Tolwyn and I made our escape, east from Inarith, across the desert, we were pursued by several of the raiders. At the point, during the pursuit, when Tolwyn knew that we would not be able to out run our persuer’s faster and more powerful war horses, he called out to me and looked me in the eyes with a much gentler, more intent gaze than he had earlier and yelled over the sound of pounding hooves for me to keep riding. He then broke off and turned back to way we had come. As I looked back and called out to him, I saw that he had stopped his horse and drawn his sword. He gave me a Mirdain sword salute and with a vicious sounding war cry charged back in the direction of the pursuing raiders. I never saw the great Tolwyn Lightborn again. May he rest in peace.

[Phienyx]

(Continued)

I rode until there was no sign of any pursuers, and even then I continued to ride hard until my horse could go no further. I was angry, confused, heartbroken and exhausted. I took refuge within the ruins of an old abandoned town, sat down next to a rock and for the first time since I can remember, I cried from the depths of my soul. I could not have stopped the overwhelming wave of emotion if I wanted to. The next thing I remember, I was waking up and I was cold, alone and afraid. I had fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion. My heart sank once the memories of the previous day’s events came rushing back to me. I had no idea of what I should do next. I wasn’t even sure where I was geographically.

I wasn’t even remotely hungry, but I knew I couldn’t just wander the wilderness aimlessly and I needed strength to travel. There were all manner of beasts, beings and bands of raiders who preyed on any and everything. As I rummaged through my supplies for food, I came across a note penned by Tolwyn that had been stuffed into my saddle bag. The note looked a bit tattered as if it had not be written just recently. I opened it slowly and began to read:

Alexander,

I do not know what events have occurred immediately preceding your reading of this letter, but suffice it to say that time was short and there is much to be said and I am not around to tell you these things myself.

The time has come to venture out into the world and establish a life of your own terms as a man. I am saddened that it didn’t happen under more fortunate circumstances. However there are a few things of which you need to be warned.

It is imperative that you avoid the influence of Kraven Phienyx and any of his associates. You know the name and his reputation, but what you do not know is that he is your father and he has spent your entire life searching for you. This is not the way we meant for you to find out but circumstances did not allow an alternative. His reputation as a ruthless warlord is well known but the extent of his bloodthirsty villainy far exceeds anything you may have heard. As another in a long line of first born sons born to first born sons, he believes that you possess a power and sense of leadership that will play an important part in his effort to unite Agon under his rule. For obvious reasons, this must never happen under any circumstances.

You must be strong during this difficult time in your life, Alexander. Never forsake the path of light and justice that your mother and I have set you upon. Forsake all that is evil and unjust. You are not alone in the world. Seek those who follow the same path and they will accept you as their own.

I will now leave you with a code by which I have lived my life. Within this code of living lies the key to your future. I trust that you will not only make this code your own but pass it on to your children:

-Forget not what you were taught as a young boy, for it will stand you in good stead for the duration of your life and beyond.

-Uphold the truth always, even in the face of certain death for in the next life you will be judged not by your intentions, but by the quality and sincerity of your words and actions.

-Respect all life. Those who fail to do so, forfeit the right to live their own lives.

- It is not a sign of weakness to admit one’s faults. The man willing and able to defeat his own pride can defeat any foe.

- Owe a debt to no one, for the one who owns your debt, owns your life.

- Understanding of all things is a goal for which you should always strive. One who claims to know all, is easily made a fool.

- Seek perfection in everything you do. The quality of your character is made evident in the quality of your deeds.

- A man who fears to be hated by others accomplishes nothing in life for his decisions will be altered by every passing wind. The one who fears not the hatred of others has the potential to accomplish many things, both great and terrible. Use great care in choosing your path through life based on what you know is right. Set your course and alter it to please no mortal being.

- Neither man, woman or child possesses the power to escape the consequences of the choices they make. Therefore, it would be wise to consider the consequences of every choice made before taking any course of action.

- Grieve lost loved ones only for a season, but love them forever. If you make grief your constant companion, it will poison your soul and corrupt your heart.

- Eat, drink and be wary. Enjoy life, but never get too comfortable with your surroundings. Complacency has been the undoing of many.

- Light does not exist without darkness; nor does good exist without evil. Though the power of evil may often seem overwhelming, it is the continuing fight of the just which serves to maintain order and balance.

- Serenity of mind in the midst of chaos will grant you the ability to face and overcome any situation you might encounter in this life or the next.

Your destiny lies along the path were light meets darkness. The Angels will guide you.

Godspeed, Alexander. May we meet again in the next life.

-Tolwyn Lightborn


I read the letter many times, trying to make sense of the information it contained. The most difficult to wrap my head around was the revelation of who my father was. Kraven Phienx was…and is one of many warlords who were constantly at war with one another over the territory of Agon. Each have varying agendas, but each have the ultimate goal of uniting Agon under their own rule. While other warlord’s groups were still centered on racial alliances, Kraven’s were not. His hoard included all races, which made his cause to unite Agon under his rule all the more attractive to the member of many of the other races.

The thought of being related to a man capable of such evil gave me the chills. It also gave me the answers to some of the many questions and understanding of many events over the past few years. More specifically, it helped give me some understanding to what happened last night and the resulting behavior of both my mother and Tolwyn. Somehow they had known or suspected that it was Kraven’s hoard that swept through Inarith that day and somehow, given what I knew now, it was no coincidence that he picked that town to raid. However, for as many questions as it answered, it raised so many more. It was now up to me to get these answers….even if I had to get them from Kraven himself. But once I had those answers, he would die.

I now completely alone in the world. Everyone I knew as family was now dead and I would most likely endanger anyone I associated with. I didn’t know how I’d do it, but I would have to go at this alone for now. I ventured back to Inarith 2 days later, under cover of night, but there was no sign of life at all other than a few scavengers picking over the bodies and taking anything from the destroyed, smoldering homes that hadn’t been burned. I searched our home for any sign that my mother or Tolwyn had been there since the attack, but there was little left of the tree, let alone the home itself. Part of me wanted to hold onto the hope that that maybe they had somehow survived, but my instincts told me differently. With tears in my eyes, I scavenged what supplies I could, took one last look at the last town I could truly call home and slipped away into the night.

[Phienyx]

(continued)

The next few years were spent travelling from town to town doing whatever work I could for shelter, to keep food in my belly and a pint of ale in my fist. This mostly consisted of some weaponsmithing, and various menial tasks. It was during this time in my life that I discovered drinking, fighting and women as hobbys. I drank to numb my emotional pain. I fought to satisfy my anger at the world and the women….well they kept me occupied when I wasn’t working, drinking or fighting.

It wasn’t long before I became bored with the drudgery of it all and took up an offer from a group of mercenaries who functioned as armed escorts for a group of travelling merchants. This job had no shortage of action, and excitement because being waylaid by bandits was just part of the risk of being a travelling merchant. However successful, travelling merchants were known to be very well off. The pay for performing this kind of work was well above the pay I’d seen any time previously in my young life doing any other kind of work, so I embraced it to its fullest. I earned the respect and fear of my fellow mercenaries by being a merciless fighter and amassing quite an impressive body count. My merchant employers found it very amusing and reveled in the reputation it garnered them. Many merchants even used their armed escorts to “obtain” additional merchandise from other traveling bands of merchants, miners, farmers and loggers. Such were our merchant employers. This meant even more pay for us, being at odds with the Mirdain Security Brigage…and more blood on my hands. When I first joined the mercenary group, I would only attack those who attacked us or who I thought were unsavory characters, but the more I let my festering grief, anger and revenge drive my actions the more I became numb to compassion and the value of life. My conscious and sense of right and wrong were all but buried and forgotten along with the memories of my painful past. The only thing is that they wouldn’t stay buried and yet, I kept trying to run from them by delving deeper into the darkness. I knew, however, I wouldn’t be able to run from my conscious forever.

The opportunity to leave behind the mess I made of my life came when our main camp was raided by the Mirdain Security Brigade and most of our “merchant” band was killed or captured. I was among the few that were able to escape….barely. I sustained several wounds in the fight that had ensued. One of them was a pretty serious wound and though I was able to bandage myself and slow the bleeding, I continued to lose blood. I made it as far as I could on foot until I lost consciousness and collapsed. When I opened my eyes, all I could see was darkness and I could not move at all. My first panicked thoughts were that I was dead and I would surely have to answer to the gods for how I have lived my life and for the innocent blood I had spilled. Facing the possibility of my own death, I came to the horrid realization of what I had become. All reasoning and excuses aside, I was a murderer, a thief and an over all scoundrel. If Tolwyn could have seen what I’d become, he’d be ashamed…he would kill me. My mother would be heartbroken. An overwhelming sense of regret and remorse came over me. How had I strayed so far from that which I believed? I became the very thing I despised and for this, I was ashamed. I deserved whatever the afterlife had in store for me. There wasn’t much I could do now except to resign myself to it.

A shaft of light split the darkness. Someone opened a door to the small barn in which I lay. I squinted my eyes against the light and struggled to make out the dark figure that appeared. Whoever it was dressed in a dark hooded robe so I could not see his or her face. The shaft of light disappeared as the robed figured entered the room and the door shut behind them. Moments later, there was a bright flash, and then the gentler flicker of candle light filled the room. The cloaked figure moved into view above my head. He had removed his hood and I could see that he carried the staff of one who practiced the art of magic. The face, while weathered, had a soft, compassionate expression. He looked to be in his mid 50s and had a short cropped white beard and longer white hair.

“Who are you? Where am I?” I managed to in a scratchy voice.

“Safe, my friend,” With no more than that explanation, he stretched out his hand above my head and a red glowing orb formed in the palm of his hand that expanded to engulf my entire body, then dissipated. Within seconds, I was able to move freely….and feel the pain of my wounds. I nearly lost consciousness when I tried to move and the first wave of intense pain washed over my body.

“You had nearly bled out when I found you. Had anyone else found you, you surely would have. And as for who I am: My name is Jerrik.”

“I guess I owe you a Thank you then,” I replied, still grimacing from the pain.

“….and then some,” Jerrik agreed in response. The tone he used was a peculiar one.

Over the next few weeks of my recovery, Jerrik kept a good watch over me, making sure I stayed nourished and my wounds cared for. Every evening he would cast a spell on me that rendered me unable to move, and unable to feel pain. This allowed my body rest completely and to heal more quickly, he said. However as my wounds began to heal and I regained my strength, this “treatment” continued, it began to feel more restricted prisoner than a patient or guest. Now I cannot even be sure what happened during the next 6 months after that. My recollections of the events are very sparse and like a living dream…or nightmare in this case. It was as if someone else was in control of my body, and I was semi-conscious and just along for the ride. What I do remember was horrible.

Jerrik was a villainous mage assassin known as the Puppet King. He would use sorcery and magic to inhabit the bodies of others for the purpose of assassination. To say he was an unsavory character was an understatement. It mattered not to him who the mark was; man, woman, and child. He worked for anyone who paid him and for 6 incoherent months I was his tool of death.

The next thing I remember clearly was waking in a prison cell, having absolutely no recollection of how I got there or what prison I was even in. I was dressed only in an itchy, brown burlap sack type garment. My entire body ached, every nerve ending felt raw and frayed and I kept having flashbacks of memories that were not mine. If that wasn’t enough to nearly drive me insane, it was two full days before I saw another soul.

[Phienyx]

(continued)

I heard the clanging and clicking of my steel cell door being unlocked and bolted to my feet. A tall Mirdain walked into the stone cell carrying a torch. Most Mirdain were tall and thin, but this one was a bit taller than average and muscular….for a Mirdain. His bright blue eyes locked onto mine, his demeanor exuded unquestionable authority. He stepped into the dark, dank cell followed by two guards, each carrying chairs. They placed the chairs in the center of the cell facing each other and exited, locking the door behind them. The tall Mirdain placed the torch in a wall holder and gestured for me to sit.

“Please, sit,” he offered. I eyed him warily, but took a seat on the roughly hewn wooden chair. “I am Broin Ravenstorm,” he said, taking a seat in the chair facing mine. I made note of the fact that his chair was just out of arms reach. This guy was confident, but not a fool.

“Your name is Alexander Drake, is it not?” I nodded. “Speak up, sir,” Broin prodded.

“Yes, I am Alexander Drake,” I replied with an irritated clip in my tone.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Broin asked, studying me closely gauging my response.

“Specifically? No,” I answered, honestly. This did not seem to surprise Broin at all. He merely nodded as if weighing my answer against information he already had….or this was the answer he expected from me.

“Do you practice any magic arts, Alexander?”

“Magic? No, I’ve never practiced magic of any kind. Is this the nature of the offense of which I’m accused? If it is, you have the wrong guy”

“Well, yes and no, but I will thank you to let me ask the questions,” Broin let a moment of silence pass, to emphasize his point before continuing. “Do you know, one who goes by the name of Jerrik?”

My fuzzy memory searched for more information than what was coming to mind at that particular moment.

“I know that I have met someone by that name, but I can’t tell you much of him, unfortunately. I remember he was...a mage or something, who found and cared for me after I was wounded in a fight, but I don’t remember much after that. Things are kinda hazy.”

Broin chuckled. “Fight? You mean that raid by the Mirdain Security Brigade on that band of thieves you ran with? Heed my word, Mr. Drake. Park of what I do is to extract the truth from people whether or not they want to tell me. I know more about you than you can imagine. How truthfully you respond to my questions tells me those little things that I don’t know that you’re not willing to tell me on your own.”

My eyes narrowed. I didn’t like it when a stranger knew more about me than I knew about him. I preferred that people, in general knew as little about me as possible.

“You have quite a reputation. Who do you think it was that gave your merchant employers their feared reputation as more that just a merchant band? It was you.”
My conscience stabbed at my heart at the mention of what I had done, so I said nothing. I had no defense for myself and I deserved to hang for my actions.

“You were so feared that it was rumored that you ran that band of thieves. At least this is what the Mirdain Council wants to hang you for,” I could only look at the floor. I was mortified. Broin angled his head down trying to catch the expression on my face. “I don’t believe that, myself, but I’m not the one making the decisions.”

Broin sat back in his chair, appearing to be in deep though, yet not taking his eyes off of me. I got the feeling he knew more about me than anyone living. “Jerrik is….was known as the Puppet King. He was an assassin who used his mastery of dark magic and sorcery to possess the bodies of those he was able to mentally overpower. He then used these victims to perform his kills and then disposed of them. The mistake he made with you is that because you were so well suited to the work, he didn’t dispose of you like he did most others after just one job. He’s been using you for the last 6 months, which is how we were able to track him down.”

“He used me to kill people against my will?” I asked, the gravity of the situation now starting to sink in. Broin nodded solemnly. “Who did I kill?”

“I don’t think you want any knowledge of that on your conscious. You have enough of your own doing to deal with.”

“Is he dead?”

“Yes. By my own blade, he is dead.” Broin raised his eyebrows and patting the pommel of his sword. A chill went down my spine at horrific images in my memory that were not mine. “If I had left it up to the others, you would have been executed along with Jarrik,” Broin added ominously.

“Then why didn’t they,” I asked with an irritated tone. At this point in my life, death seemed my only release…my only comfort. It is what I deserved and after that, it would all be over. I did not want to live with what I had become. Tolwyn had warned me to stay away from Kraven Phienyx, but I had, of my own accord started down the path of evil and had become a monster in my own right.

“Because, Mr. Drake, I swore on my life to the man who saved it numerous times that we would look after you.”

[Phienyx]

(Continued)

I looked up at Broin with a confused and curious look on my face. “What do you mean?” I asked, feeling a twinge of hope. “Who asked you to look after me? and who is 'we'?"

Broin stood. “That is a discussion for another day. There are more pressing matters that should be at the forefront of your mind.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Like what you’re going to do with the rest of your life. There may not be much of it left. The Mirdain Council will certainly rule to have you executed, if not for your actions under the influence of Jerrik, for your actions while with that merchant band of yours.

The blood in my veins suddenly ran cold and my heart began to race as my stomach turned. It was then that I knew that I really didn’t want to die; at least not for the reasons I was facing. I wanted a release, but not death.

“If they’re going to order my execution, there isn’t much I can do, is there?”

Broin sighed and shook his head to himself as if deciding on a course of action with which he did not fully agree. He stood and looked at me with a subtle glimmer in his eye and a barely detectable smile on his lips. “As long as you move and breathe, there is always something you can do to change your current situation.” He reached inside one of his leather riding gloves, extracted a folded piece of paper and tossed it at my feet. “Even now, your future is not set in stone. You know where your current path will lead. There is another path, but not all who seek find it. Look for us where the light meets the darkness.

I was very puzzled by the suddenly cryptic turn of the conversation. “I don’t understand?”

“For your sake, Alexander, I hope you do…and soon. Godspeed.” With that, Broin left the cell, slamming the door closed behind him.

Who were these people Broin referred to who had been promised to keep watch over him? What did he mean by “another path”? I was locked in a dungeon cell, which was no doubt well guarded by armed soldiers. I wasn’t exactly free to walk out of here to start a new life. Nor was it likely I would be able to talk my way out of a death sentence by promising to not do it again.

I bent over and picked up the folded piece of paper. Opening it up I was overwhelmed with a mix of excitement, heartbreak and shame when I saw that it was it was the letter that Tolwyn Lightborne had slipped into my saddle bag the day we fled Inarith from my father. Even thought it had only been seven years ago, it seemed like forever had passed since that day. I’d thought this letter long lost beyond recovery. How had Broin come to possess it? One thing is for sure that none of this was coincidence.

Re-read the letter slowly, letting each word sink in. The message within meant so much more now that I had more life experience under my belt. The code of life, which had a lot of good sounding advice, now carried a much deeper meaning than I could have ever comprehended when I first read them. I turned the letter over and noticed map drawn on the back, but it was faded so badly I had to bring it closer to the torch to see it better. The written directions and landmarks were written in the same cryptic and riddle like wording that Broin had fallen into before he left. I turned the letter over and read it through again….that was when I noticed something I’d never noticed before. I gripped the page with both hands in excitement. Sure enough, there was no mistaking what I’d discovered. I now knew who I needed to look for and the “we” to which Broin had repeatedly referred. It had to be. I suspected that the map on the back lead to “where the light met the darkness”. I just had to find a way out of here……..

A smile spread across my lips as I slowly turned back to the torch that Broin had not taken with him when he left. I walked over to the cell door and pushed. It moved. I pushed harder and the hinges groaned as the door opened outward slightly. I peeked out and saw only darkness and heard no sound. I grabbed the torch, stuffed the letter in the rope that secured my burlap robe and moved out into the deserted hallway. At the end of the hall was a steep, long winding set of stairs, which I descended slowly, stopping every few feet to listen. I soon discovered that I had been locked in a tower cell of one of many long deserted towns and settlements that littered Agon’s landscape. This was no official Merdain prison which led me to believe that my captors had little to no official connection with the Mirdain Council nor were they agents of the Mirdain Government at all.

The next day, I began my search for this elusive path of which Broin had spoken. It was about time I found some purpose in my life. I was fortunate to be alive and continuing on the path my life was on currently would certainly lead me to a violent and dishonorable death. I didn’t want that. I owed it to Tolwyn, my mother and to myself to accomplish something good with my life.

It took me 2 weeks of lying low and following the cryptic clues to finally locate the narrow path that led through the wooded valley depicted on the map. The canopy was so dense that the sunlight was unable to pierce it. It was as if walking through the woods in the dead of night. Even though I was one who was not easily intimidated by darkness or the creatures found in nature, there was something unnerving about the sounds and atmosphere here.

I gripped tightly, the handle of the sword I’d acquired and continued down the path, making as little sound as possible. A few times, I thought I’d heard foot steps, but each time I stopped to listen, I heard nothing. It could have been just the rustling of the breeze through the leaves, but thought I heard whispering voices as well. Just about the time I convinced myself it was just my imagination…..

“Hey you!” A male voice shouted from behind me. My heart jumped into my throat and I whipped around, sword up and in the high ready position. I could make out two dark silhouettes, but was unable to determine if they were armed or not but chances are that they were. One didn’t travel anywhere in Agon without being armed. “Yeah, you. You don’t belong here.” I looked to either side and behind me to make sure I wasn’t being surrounded and completely cut off from escape. When I turned back, I only saw one silhouette. By now, the little hairs I had on the back of my neck began to bristle so I took a deep breath to steady my breathing and prepare to defend myself.

“Broin Ravenstorm sent me,” I called out

I felt a rush of air behind me and a whisper of a female voice in my left ear. “What is it that you seek, dark warrior?”

I whipped around, but saw no one. My best bet was to play along. “I seek to redeem myself and follow the path of justice,” I replied.

“The question is, Alexander: can you be redeemed?” I didn’t have time to wonder how these two strangers knew my name before everything went black.

I awoke seated in the center or a room, surrounded by several Humans, Mirdain and Dwarves of various sizes, shapes and colors; all armed. I was not restrained in anyway, nor did I feel threatened. A tall, dark haired Mirdain stepped forward, stood in front of me and looked down at me as I struggled to clear the fog from my mind.

“I apologize for the knock on the head that Likwid gave you.” I detected a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I condone violence only as a necessity and apparently Lithium found it necessary to club you because you made him nervous.” That sent a ripple of chuckles around the room. I didn’t find much humor in the situation as I rubbed the lump on the back of my head.

“I am Tbone, commanding officer of this guild of warriors. Broin, my second in command has told me many things about you. I have to admit that most of them are not good, but none of us here can claim to be saints. We will not judge you for what you’ve done in your past, but for the choices you make now and will make in the future.”

“Who are…..?” I began, but was interrupted before I could finish the question.

“We are those who serve justice at any cost and without question. We do that which others cannot or will not do. We are The Furious Angels.”

I allowed myself to relax a little bit. Indeed I had found them, the Furious Angels. My quest to find a new path in life could now begin….I hoped.

Tbone caught my eye with a no nonsense gaze. “Do you believe you have what is needed to follow the path of justice no matter where it may lead?”

“I have what is needed,” I answered. “And I am willing to do what is necessary.”

“Good. Now what shall we call you?”

“What do you mean?”

“No Furious Angel carries the name their parents gave them. This is to symbolize that we have forsaken any past life and have committed to the path of Justice.”

I thought about it for a moment. Then it came to me. “Call me Xannder Phienyx.” I could hear a murmur go through the group. “My father is Kraven Phienyx. He has searched for me my entire life because he thinks that with my help, he can unify Agon under his rule. My mother and I have run from him my entire life for this reason, but I am not going to run anymore. By taking my proper sir name, I am reclaiming the family name I will restore honor to the Phienyx name. I am also inviting Kraven to come find me. He and I have a score to settle.”

Tbone nodded. “Very well, Xannder. We will leave you to get some rest. You will need it. Tomorrow, you will begin your journey on the path of Angels.”

[Bowdy]

tl:dr