“What does that royal bastard want now?” Osric groaned, half-conscious as Akuma shook him awake.
Akuma laughed under his breath. “Same old, same old.”
“The bevrodraach?” Osric muttered, sitting up as blankets fell away from his bare chest. “I thought we lost it.”
Akuma was already halfway into his hunters clothes: black leathers, black cloak, and the curved dagger he liked to toy with before slipping it into the belt at his side. Only his golden eyes remained visible, glinting like twin suns in the midst of a black sea.
“Oh.” Osric sighed, reaching for his clothes. “Someone else found it.”
Akuma slapped his shoulder, giving him a wide, gleaming grin. “Righto, pal. And they want our help with capturing it, and with taking down anyone who’s foolish enough to be in the way.”
Osric’s mind flashed back to the thief, the girl who was so willing to risk her life because it was “her mistake to make.” She was brave, he’d give her that. He just hoped she wouldn’t be there when things inevitably took a turn for the worse.
By the time the grandfather clock in the Phantom Guild’s dining hall struck the second hour of the morning, the two of them were fully dressed and outfitted with weaponry, standing in the full hall, teeming with men of all sizes.
The captain, Lars, stepped to the front of the group. The dim firelight reflected on his deep auburn hair, highlighting the soft golden tones. He opened his mouth to speak, his massive chest puffing as he exhaled a large breath.
“Men,” he said, voice booming across the filled chamber. “It has come to my attention that King Hazen requires our assistance on a certain matter.” He paused, looking around at the tired men, yawning and scratching at old wounds. “You are not to ask why, all you need to know is that you are to stop anyone from leaving or entering the village of Olka.”
A man groaned in the back, “Olka’s hours away—how are we supposed to get there in time?”
“Well hell,” the Captain grinned, pulling a pair of large reins from a concealed coat pocket. “Good thing we have drakes, yeah?”
The drakes were massive, scaly creatures, much like dragons, yet wingless. Their scales produced almost any color that was known to man, and they also boasted a pair of wicked claws and teeth. Osric followed Akuma into the underground chamber that housed the creatures, as to keep them from escaping into some innocent village nearby. Not that there necessarily were any nearby villages, as they were deep in Nemorosa Forest, the forest of enchantments, the forest of monsters. Some might even say that the Phantom Guild members were the king’s of monsters.
But nevermind that. The chamber that kept the drakes in was made of pungent yarrowstone, designed to calm the beasts and keep them docile until they were needed. The smell of the stone mixed with something like wet dog mingled in the air, coming in thick clouds from the mouths of the large creatures.
Captain Lars sauntered over to Osric, waving Akuma down from the back of a particularly large, black drake. “Boys,” he started, clapping both men on the shoulders. “Though most of the others have the simple job to guard the entrances and exits of Olka, I have a special job for the two of you.”
“Go on,” Akuma flashed a wicked grin, obviously excited at the possible prospect of getting his hands dirty.
The Captain smiled at Akuma’s enthusiasm. “That’s the spirit. Now, since the two of you were the original undertakers of this mission, you will continue to do so.”
Osric frowned, fed up and exhausted. “To continue to try and catch a thief that we don’t even know, or to try to capture the creature that was with her?”
The Captain rose an eyebrow, speaking with a new vigor. “Well good, Ricky, since you’ve already deduced that our thief is a woman, you’re in charge of tracking her down. As for Akuma, you can find the creature and detain it.”
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
Akuma nodded excitedly, returning to his chosen drake. Something stewed within Osric, threatening to overtake him.
“Captain,” he said suddenly, gripping the larger mans’ shoulder. “What do you want me to do if I find the girl?”
Lars gave a big wink. “When. Not if, Ricky. When you find the girl, she is to be taken, alive, to the King. I trust you can manage such a simple assignment?”
“Of course, Captain. My loyalty is to you and your orders.”
“Righty then, up you go.” The massive man gestured to the drake standing calmly beside Osric, its’ deep blue scales shining with their own natural light.
Osric mounted the beast, the warmth of its’ thick flesh steaming through his body. In an instant, the captain signaled and they were off.
The beasts stormed up the chamber’s ramp into the cold, snowy night beyond.
* * *
The hours-long journey to Olka took but a mere forty-five minutes on the spot. With the help of the drakes, of course, they were able to cut down the usually long and treacherous journey into civilization.
It was around three in the hours of the morning at that point, but Olka looked lively as ever. Or not necessarily lively, Osric thought, beginning to hear the shouts coming from the crowd. Maybe more incensed than lively.
The people of Olka trying to get home from various engagements, including the Solstice Ball earlier, Osric observed, were immediately blocked from entering. Assassins leapt off their drakes with practiced skill, drawing their swords at anyone who dared engage them.
Akuma and Osric drew to the back of the men still on drakes, and nodded to each other, getting ready to dismount. With brisk movements, they hopped off, pushing past a few of their fellow assassins at a front entrance, and entered the village under siege.
Almost the entire village was awake by then, small lamps flickering to life in windows mixed with women and children poking their round, tired faces out of the panes, hoping to get a better look at all the commotion.
“Alright,” Akuma spoke first, steering Osric off into a quiet alley. “What’s the game plan?”
“Oh, there will be no use for a game plan.” A sharp, commanding voice spoke from behind them.
The two men whirled around, coming face-to-face with the infamous butcher, the Lord of the Land, His Royal Majesty: King Hazen.
The young king was more sickly than Osric had remembered. His black curls sat plastered to his forehead in a sheen of sweat, his deep emerald eyes laid empty, no emotion behind them, his stature was tall, rivaling Osric’s, but below a thin layer of muscle, bones jutted irregularly, as if they had been broken and set back into place several times.
His voice came out of those thin lips once more, hollower; sharper.
“As your king, I trust the Captain gave instructions to the both of you?”
Osric and Akuma stood still. Silent.
“Speak,” Hazen snapped, seeming to direct his words more at Osric than Akuma. “Or must I carve obedience from your tongues?”
Akuma was the first to respond, his tone mockingly pleasant. “Of course, Your Majesty. The captain said we’re to retrieve the thief and the beast.”
“And bring them where?”
“To you,” Osric said, his voice flat. “Alive.”
“Correct.” Hazen stepped closer, the cold lamplight catching the sharp lines of his face. “But let me make something very clear.”
He paused before Osric, his voice lowering to a quiet blade.
“She is not to be harmed. Not scarred. Not frightened beyond repair. I want her… untouched.”
Osric felt something crawl under his skin. This was not the boy he used to know.
Hazen’s eyes flicked to Akuma. “The beast, however—do what you must.”
There was a flicker of hunger in Akuma’s golden gaze. “With pleasure.”
The king turned, beginning to walk down the darkened street, shadows trailing behind his long coat like whispers.
But he paused, just once more.
“She came to my ball for something specific,” he said without turning. “I want to know what.”
Then he was gone, disappearing into the heart of Olka as if he’d never been there at all.
Osric stood frozen in the alleyway, the cold of anger seeping deeper into his bones than the snow ever could.