Go For Stories

The gap was large, but not impossible. V’esen clung to the tree branch and tensed his muscles, like a snake poised to strike. He gathered his confidence and sprung towards the battlements below. He felt his boots graze the outer wall before he hit the ground and rolled, landing in a crouch. He waited in silence. Crouched and listening for any sign that he had been heard. There were no shouts or whistles, no calls to arms or whizzing arrows, so he made his way along the curtain wall of the castle to the ramp.

The wall sloped down from the battlements and curved around into the keep itself. As long as he could make it there without being spotted, he should be safe. Inside, there would be walls and corners to hide around. Out here, there was nothing but bright sunlight shining through the trees outside.

In fact, now that he was deep inside the perimeter, he noticed that there weren’t even any soldiers anymore. Where were they? He stopped. No movement, no sounds; something was very, very wrong. He lowered his stance, checked his markings were covered and crept down the ramp, his senses alert for even the slightest stirring. When he reached the door to the keep, he froze. There was someone nearby, he could feel it.

Turning, he put his back to the door and looked out over the castle grounds. There was nothing to see, but he had learned to trust his senses over countless infiltrations. Something was amiss. As he turned back towards the keep, a flash of movement caught his eye. He leapt back, parrying the deadly thrust of a sword and moving out of range. A section of wall, shaped like a man armed and ready to fight, charged forward. V’esen pulled a dagger from his boot and hurled it at the soldier, whose rock-like features faded as the blade bit into flesh and bone. There now slumped an ordinary soldier; dying at V’esen’s feet with a dagger in his chest.

“What, by the spirit of rock, just happened?” he asked himself.

The groans of the soldier grew louder, so V’esen knelt down and covered his mouth. He pulled the dagger from the dying man’s chest and slashed his throat, silencing him forever.

V’esen stood and stared at the wall from which the soldier emerged. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it. Out of instinct, he raised the knife and threw it at the other side of the door. It clattered to the ground.

“Just the one, then,” he muttered before returning the dagger to his boot, opening the door and stepping through.

He now stood in a curved corridor. While it appeared empty, V’esen couldn’t be sure. He pulled a bolt from his wrist and notched it to the crossbow he carried. Holding it in front of him, he sneaked down the hall, ready to fire at even the slightest sound. There were small windows set into the wall at regular intervals that allowed the sunlight in. Even so, the corridor was dim and the floor uneven. His level of focus on keeping quiet was so high, that he almost missed the noise.

The smallest breath came from just up the hall. It was so quiet that he wasn’t certain he had truly heard it. Just in case, he raised his crossbow and fired at the source of the noise. The bolt flashed through the air and lodged into the stone with a wet thud. A small gasp was all that escaped the soldier’s lips before he collapsed to the floor, his true colour returning as he fell.

The implications of what was happening struck V’esen. He had walked into a trap. Not only was he now in the middle of an enemy fort, he had found himself surrounded by near invisible soldiers. He couldn’t think how to proceed. If he charged in, he’d be taken down within a heartbeat. However, if he kept up this slow pace, he could be encircled without even knowing it. Either way, he wouldn’t stand a chance. So, he stopped altogether.

There was no real strategy behind this decision. He tried to tell himself that he was biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike. Really, he just didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t a situation in which he had found himself in the past. Sure, there had been times when he was surrounded and there had been times when he didn’t know where his adversaries were, but there was never anyone invisible or made of stone.

As he stood there, wracking his brains for a solution, two guards came around the corner and spotted him.

“Stop!” called one guard as they both raised their swords. “Identify yourself.”

V’esen cursed himself for not reloading his crossbow. There was no way he would have time to do so without it being spotted. He hooked the crossbow into his trousers and put his hands above his head. He crouched in an attempt to look submissive and reached for a dagger. As he did, his hair fell from his face and the blue of his marks glowed against the floor. The soldiers saw the glow and recognition spread across their faces.

“Damn it all,” he cursed, grabbing a dagger and standing.

“Oh, it’s you, Sir,” said the second guard, lowering his blade. The other did likewise.

“What?” asked V’esen.

“Sorry, Sir. We thought you were in your quarters.”

With a salute, they turned and headed back the way they came.

V’esen was stunned. He stared as the two guards walked away, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure who they thought he was, but in this dim light, the only way they could have recognised him was by the markings on his face. He wondered if there could be somebody else with his unusual markings that worked for the Earl. If there were, that could be his way through the keep. He brushed his hair back and walked in the opposite direction of the guards, allowing his face to be seen. It felt the most unnatural thing for him and it took every ounce of restraint not to brush the fringe back down.

When he reached the dead soldier, he removed the bolt and wiped it clean on the corpse’s clothes before returning it to his wrist band. He then removed the soldier’s sword and cloak and put them on, hoping this would improve the illusion. He walked through the corridor with his head held high, exuding a confidence that he did not feel. As he walked, the walls appeared to move as soldier after soldier saluted him before melding back into the walls.

“Very good. Yes. Keep up the good work. Stand straight.” In his most authoritative voice, he fired off comments to each as he passed.

He came at last to an intersection in the hall. By now, he was lost within the keep and had no clue which way was best. He gave himself a moment to see if anything felt familiar from the vision. Something inside him said to go right, so he did. Within a few paces, he reached a heavy wooden door, reinforced with metal strips. He reached out and pushed. He grit his teeth as its rusty hinges creaked so loud he thought the door had disintegrated at his touch. Once he had established that the door had, in fact, not fallen from its hinges, he looked into the room that had opened before him.

A single shaft of sunlight shone through a hole in the roof. It illuminated a space furnished with only a desk and a chair behind it. On this chair sat a hunched figure, who looked up at V’esen’s entrance. V’esen caught a glimpse of blue before the man pulled a hood over his head, obscuring his face from view. He stood and unsheathed a sword from his side. V’esen also pulled his stolen hood over his head and drew his sword, while shutting the door behind him. Best to keep prying eyes from whatever transpired here. The man spoke.

“What are you doing here? This is not a place for your plebeian Order.”

V’esen assumed a defensive stance. “I am on a private mission. Who are you? How do you know I am from the Order?”

The man paused and turned from V’esen. “I have heard of a man with markings like mine. You are a thief and a danger to the Earl and the peace he is striving to achieve. Lucky for you, I am in a good mood and will give you one chance to leave this place now. You will come to no harm. If you do not take this chance, I will be forced to stop you. Now, go.”

V’esen scoffed. “You are a coward. You know your men will cut me down upon my exit. Do you not have the courage to do your own dirty work?”

The man spun towards him, his face glowing through the shade of his hood; his anger showing like lightning. “You had one chance. Why did you not take it?”

He took a step towards V’esen and raised his sword. V’esen cursed his own stupidity. He knew how this would end; he had seen it. If he’d left when told, he may have stood a chance against this man’s soldiers. Now his last sight would be his own body sliding down the wall. Now everyone he loved would be left wondering what had become of him. He never had a chance to say a proper goodbye.

“Caral,” he said, sorrow weighing him down, “I’m sorry.”

As the other swung his sword, V’esen dropped and parried the blow. He spun on his knee and slashed at the other’s leg. His sword arm jarred as the strike was blocked and he swung it back in an upwards arc, hoping to catch the other off guard. The man swayed back and V’esen’s sword sailed past before he brought it back to block an attack on his shoulder. They fought in venerated silence. Whatever brought V’esen here, the import of the moment was not lost on either of them.

The shrouded man now pressed forward, hacking and slashing. Every attack illuminated a hole in V’esen’s defence and he staggered back, barely avoiding each blow. This man fought like a demon. Pushing and cutting, exploiting his weaknesses and forcing him to make stupid moves. He felt like a child at play.

V’esen crouched to evade a backhand slash and lunged forward, hacking at his opponent. He now pushed forward himself, swinging his sword with abandon. The ferocity of his newfound energy seemed to put his opponent out for a moment and V’esen took advantage. He swung the sword in deadly circles, slashing at the legs and reversing his grip before cutting at his head and back to the legs again. While the man continued to block the blows, he was pushed backwards by the fury of V’esen’s attack. V’esen knew this wouldn’t last long, but he would make the man pay for his death. If he could scar the other, he would die knowing that he’d left his mark. He sliced another cut past the man’s face, taking his ear and dragging the hood from his head. Blood splashed onto the wall behind the man as he fell against the stone and into the sunlight. For just a moment the outline of the man blurred into those of the stones before it returned to normal. The man held a hand up to his missing ear.

V’esen stepped forward and lifted his sword in front of his face. He lashed out, expecting the man to drop below the cut. He failed to dodge and the sword sliced into his neck. V’esen saw the look of shock on his opponent’s face, mirroring the shock that V’esen felt. For the first time he recognised the man, but it was too late.

V’esen gaped as his own face flew from the shoulders of the other man. He felt ill. The similarity didn’t end at the blue markings, it was V’esen. He watched the head roll across the floor and stopped at his feet. His own eyes glared at him, damning him forever.

V’esen watched the marks fade as the man died. He knelt beside the head and examined the face. There was no denying it. This man was identical.

There was a knock at the door.

“Sir? Is everything alright?”

V’esen stood and straightened his cloak, ensuring there was no blood to be seen. He crossed the room and opened the door a crack; his eye twitched at the scream of the hinges.

“Yes yes. I am training. Thank you.”

“Sir?” The soldier tried to peek through the gap in the door.

“What is it?”

“Our camouflage has faltered.” He lifted a hand in front of his face. “See? Nothing. Are you sure you are alright?”

Now V’esen understood. They way they blended into the stonework must have been somehow connected to the wellbeing of his doppelganger. Sheathing the bloody sword, he opened the door enough for him to slip through and shut it behind him.

“I must have worked myself too hard. Never mind, it will return soon. I think some fresh air will help. Walk with me.”

“Yes, sir.”

While the look of concern lingered on the soldier, his interest in the room was forgotten. V’esen led him down the branch of the corridor he had ignored earlier.

“Tell me, soldier, why is it that you thought it appropriate to come to my door?”

The soldier looked over at V’esen as they walked.

“Our allotted time had not yet finished and you removed our ability. It was your order, sir. I don’t understand.”

V’esen smiled. His other was training the men to blend into their surroundings. By accident he had stumbled upon them and, by killing their commander, had taken the power from them. The Order would have had a very major concern once this unit had been fully trained.

“You did well,” he turned to the soldier. “It was right of you to worry. Had I been under attack, I might have needed your help. Now, go back to your post and await my orders. If anybody else asks after me, tell them I am at rest.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, sir.” The soldier saluted and headed back down the corridor.

V’esen approached the end of the hall and saluted the confused looking soldier standing next to the door.

“Nothing to worry about,” said V’esen, “I am in need of a break.”

The soldier nodded as V’esen noticed the sliver of sunlight coming from beneath the door.

“If you would let me outside, I would be grateful,” he said to the soldier, who nodded and opened the door.

Once outside, V’esen increased his pace. He took his bearings from the sun and turned right. Outside, he had seen a single gate that led out of the castle. Beyond it was a narrow path cut into the bramble that should lead him into the forest. He now headed for that gate and, with hope, freedom.