Silence
It was dark. It wasn’t only night. The sun shone above, but it didn’t reach the eyes. It was that special sort of darkness that one only experienced when the eyes couldn’t adjust to the lack of light. That darkness that could be found in the deepest of caves when one traveled further than even the bats dared. If you were to place your hand in front of your face, you wouldn’t see it. But he would see you. Him in his red cloak that obviously didn’t belong to any formal order. His eyes flashed, the light in them lighting the area for only a moment before everything went black once more. An observer would have noticed nothing other than the young woman on his arm. She clung to him like her life depended on him.
Finally he lit a torch, lighting the area. The young woman could see that they were outside in some wood. She didn’t recognize the area, though it wasn’t often that she left the castle. She was so used to being sheltered from the outside world. The Circle protected her from just about everything and anything; she had no need to defend herself and had magic only for the use of others. The light of the torch gleamed and reflected over the gold of her hair and shimmered in the oceans of her eyes. She was a pretty girl, hardly ten and six years of age. The fragile lines of her face allowed her to pass for either human or elf until her lips parted, and the gentle melody of her voice spilled over the ears of those around her. He, however, didn’t care what her race may be. Whether her blood were pure or muddled by cross breeding. She had magic. She had blood. That’s all he needed.
“W-where are we?” The fragility of her voice sounded over the still darkness. Gleaming golden eyes turned to her, but the man said nothing. “Where are we going?” She trembled on his arm but didn’t dare run away. Where would she go? Which direction would she run? Why would she run? He was her mentor. She could trust him. Couldn’t she? “Hrathgar?” Two sapphire orbs looked up into the chiseled lines of his face. “Where are we?”
A rough growl, responded to her. His voice was as dark as the wood about them. His voice was as worn as his face. His voice was as ragged as the scar that covered his right cheek. “Silence, girl.” A light flush colored the cheeks of the blond, and she followed the elder man without saying another word.
They finally came upon a clearing deep within the wood. Without a single word or warning, Hrathgar threw the young woman to the ground, allowing her to fall upon the rough brush and thistles. “W-what?” She swore, cradling her hands to her chest, bleeding from breaking her fall.
“I said silence!” His growl suddenly became a howl. “Silence you foolish girl!” A large hand reached into his cloak drawing a sinister looking blade. The hilt of it gleamed silver, and precious stones shone in the torch light. “It is time I silence you forever.” Hrathgar threw down the torch. The flame, once a source of blessed light, licked at the fallen brush around them. Quickly, the fire fed and grew, forming a circle of light and heat around the man and girl. “Come here.” Thick fingers tangled in the mass of golden curls, arching the smooth alabaster of her throat.
“Don’t… Don’t do this…”
“Silence.” He growled as the tip of his dragger drew a crimson line across her throat, spilling her blood into the circle he had created, silencing her forever.
-.-.-.-
The moon, full and proud, shone through his window and onto the thin bedcovers that covered his lithe form. The thin forms of his lips were contorted into something that could have been born of both a grimace and a frown. His normally wide eyes were clenched as if he were in pain. It was obvious to all who could see him that he was caught within the grasp of a nightmare. Not that Johann or anyone else cared. Two large, heavily muscular men grasped the limbs of the small elf man. A third, equally large, equally strong, placed a single hand over Ayr’s mouth as the young man was startled awake and wanted to stream. “Do not scream.” Johann whispered, his normally booming, commanding voice sounded cramped in the tiny volume. “We are of the Templar. We need you to come with us.”
Convinced, he wouldn’t fight, the three Templar soldiers released Ayr allowing him to gather himself. Large, bright aqua eyes looked around him, seeing his bedchamber filled with large blond men clothed in silver and gold armor. “You could have just asked.” He said softly, running a feminine hand through his shaggy unkempt hair letting it fall about his pointed ears. Looking out his window, finding the moon large and bright outside his window he added: “And in the morning.”
“There’s no time for that.” Johann replied, gathering Ayr’s robes and tossing them on the bed. “A mage has been murdered.” He said, his voice still hushed.
“What does this have to do with me?” Ayr asked, obviously displeased with the rude awakening.
“You’ve hunted with us before.” Johann responded simply. “We want your help again.” His emerald eyes averted, no longer focusing on the young man. “We believe you may know the Maleficar responsible. The girl was bled.”
Ayr’s ears visibly perked up. “A Maleficar? In the Circle?”
-.-.-.-
It was being a prisoner. Ayr knew that he wasn’t, but the way the Templar soldiers escorted him out of the castle made him feel like he was being carried off to some prison. The worst part was the silence. It didn’t seem to matter how many questions he asked or to which Templar he asked them to, not a single question as answered. Not a single person looked at him as they walked, avoiding contact with any other person – sticking to shadows. “Really guys, you could at least tell me where we’re going.”
Johann sighed, ceasing his march and turning to look at the small elf mage. “We are taking you to the site where we found the girl. Now cease your senseless yammering and just follow us. All of your questions will be answered in time.” With that he turned, his shoulder-length blond hair flipped across his back as he continued to march.
The group left the confines of the castle, and even the city. Ayr chewed on his lower lip as they continued on. It was true that he had adventured outside the city, on more than one occasion even. But the thought of a Maleficar being on the loose (and so close even) made him nervous. The fact that someone so evil could be so close to him without knowing it. Ayr wondered if he knew the girl they kept talking about. He wondered if he could have been that girl. His mind was racing. Did he personally know the Maleficar? Were they friends? Was the Maleficar one of his own mentors? His bright aqua eyes blinked as he realized he was now in a dark wood. ‘I must have gotten lost in my thoughts.’ He thought to himself, remembering to keep quiet. The trees grew thick and close to one another. The bright light of the moon had trouble penetrating the cover of the towering woods. His chest grew tight as he thought about the girl again. How frightened she must have been. Did she know the Maleficar, too? Was she actually dead when the Maleficar left her? Or did the Maleficar walk away from her, letting her bleed to death alone among the trees?
“We’re here.” Johann’s strong, masculine voice caught Ayr by surprise. He looked about, trying to decide where they were. The small group of males stood in a clearing of the forest. The land looked fairly undisturbed, telling Ayr that the clearing was natural. For some reason, trees refused to grow in this space. The dark haired elf stepped away from the protection of the Templar soldiers and further into the circle. Yes. It was a circle; an almost perfect circle, he noted. It was almost as if the trees were afraid to enter the magic this circle was used for. Goosebumps perked up over his arms and the back of his neck. Ayr, himself, didn’t want to be in that circle. “Can you sense anything?” Ayr was jerked out of his thoughts and brought back into the present.
“I don’t know.” Ayr responded softly, hating being in that circle. He could certainly feel something, but he couldn’t yet place his finger on exactly what he was feeling. Fear? Sure. Desperation and death, too. But anything helpful? He doubted this greatly. Ayr was as good a mage as any other student of the Circle, but it wasn’t as if he were a master of anything. “Something bad happened here.” He said, wrapping his arms around himself. One of the soldiers groaned, alerting Ayr that he had pointed out the obvious.
“Was it, indeed, a Maleficar like we fear? Or was the girl simply murdered?” Johann asked eying the almost-boy.
Ayr took in a shuddering breath. How was he to know? He hadn’t been there when the act was committed. As a mage he could sense the strong magic. Was it blood magic? His bare toes sifted in the dirt under his feet. If it was blood magic, this certainly would be the place to commit such a crime. Steadying himself, Ayr looked about. “The trees won’t grow here.” He said softly, looking around at the almost perfect circle. “The trees don’t like the magic that was done here.” Being a primal mage gave him the advantage of being attuned to nature. His powers were still growing, having limited control over lightning and stone, but he could feel how this land cried out for help.
“Her blood fell here.” Ayr said pointing to the center of the circle. Where he pointed, even the uneven brush that tried to cut at his unprotected feet wouldn’t grow. “That’s where she died.”
From behind him, one of the soldiers grunted as if pleased with himself. Ayr looked back, trying to make out the face of the man in the dark. Instead, another soldier grabbed him by the arm. “We should show him.” He announced, dragging Ayr further into the circle. “I’m tired of playing these games. Come, boy.”
“What games?” His voice grew in pitch sounding almost whiny. “Let go. Why bring me out here and treat me like this?” The soldier didn’t respond with words, but instead with throwing him to the ground letting Ayr land on his hands and knees. The blood magic that spilled into the soil almost burned Ayr’s hands. “What did I do?” He asked, trying not to cry.
“What did you do?” The soldier responded pointing to the ground in front of Ayr. “Why did you do it?”
Ayr looked up at the man then to where the blond man pointed. No words came to mind. His mind and tongue were still as he read what was written in the still blood soaked dirt.
Ayr.
