Souls Shall Reign
Book One: Collapse of the Azure Realm
Chapter One
It began with a breeze from inland toiling through a crack between the window pane and sill. The low whistle of the wind and the rasping pass of silt against the aged wood filled his ears upon his wake. His eyes slowly opened under the weight of exhaustion to see the grey skies of another overcast day. Uneager to begin the monotony, he started to burrow his head into a nest of blankets when he felt the peculiar breath of warmth carried by the draft. Unaccustomed to the sea air possessing any level of welcoming heat, he turned his head back to the window frame. His eyes cast down to a thin layer of sand resting across the wooden plank. Before his awakening thoughts could even ponder the sand’s appearance, the blustering draft picked up and blew the gravel away. He watched as ribbons of the sand dissipated away entirely. Unwilling to dedicate another second to the strange occurrence, his head collapsed back down into the warmth of his bed.
The serenity was interrupted with a sharp boom.
“Farrowill! Wake up!”
Too startled to move, Will looked up stiffly through his mussed up brown hair to the shadows shifting across the ceiling. The silhouette of his father loomed above his cot with a crinkled brow. Looking down to his son’s expanded eyes, he indifferently blurted, “Get out of bed! The masonry master will have your hide if you’re late for morning call again.”
Instinctively, Will nodded and sat up obediently. His father retreated satisfied from the room with the utterance of “ungrateful boy” slipping from his lips. Will tried to shake away the fright and adjust to the world about him. Above, dust cascaded down from trampled ceiling boards as other tenants began to rise to their duties. Attentively listening to the waking signs of life in the building and the streets surrounding, Will realized the whistle of the peculiar breeze had ceased entirely. Too busy to afford a second thought, he began about his day.
Inhaling an egg and an extra slice of bread when his father looked away, Will darted free from the hovel to the muddy streets winding alley streets. Effortlessly navigating the labyrinth of roads and forgettable citizens, he found his way to the winding pass to the fort. The edges of the village remained only scaffolding as Raven’s Perch still struggled to develop as a settlement. Once an appraised settlement of Lord Rockwell, the neglect of the project testified to the hardships befallen the eastern islands of the Azure Kingdom. Everyone understood this, but to Will’s contained dismay, they were content with this decaying way of life. He could waste many nights pondering ways to bring about a change to these befallen people, but it always ended with bleak resolution.
Decided he was through caring for the apathetic bunch, his new dream was now seen edging the towering walls of the fort. Patrol inconspicuously placed in increasing numbers testified to the mounting political unease and as a mockery of Will’s desires. Forget the prestige of the title and training, it was only the weapons the national guard possessed captivating Will. The Blue Guardsmen lore would not bare such poignancy if it weren’t for the sapphire blades sheathed at their sides. The blue blades rumored to be the best craft in all of Iderus Island were one with their masters, neither force existing without the other’s ability. Will tried to imitate the forged bond between Blue Guard and weapon as he fenced with peers, dedicated to his hopes of serving amongst the elite defenders of his land. When mention of his wishes slipped, these dreams found themselves dashed repeatedly by the other boys, his coworkers, and even his father. Will cringed at the grating memory of his father Osiris cruelly laughing at the notion, claiming his son would never be worthy enough to possess a blade of blue.
Trying to vanquish the ill memories as he approached the fort, he surveyed the old stone walls with a practiced eye noting the small cracks he would have to attend to this day. While spotting stress fractures threatening the structure had its purpose, Will struggled to accept it was the worth of his existence. Twelve years prior, his father in cohorts with Raven Perch’s master mason decided Will’s life was to be spent tending to the seawalls and more recently, constructing the new fort. Osiris justified it as a noble profession to repair the defenses of the city while adopting a skill free of violence. And twelve years of attempting to accept this boring logic made violence a welcome break in the monotony.
As Will arrived, a shout rang across the courtyard.
“Alternate those stones! I will not have a whelp like you responsible for my death after this whole place comes crashing down because you were too inept to follow an order.” Will wanted to sympathize to the new apprentice, but he had learned to accept whatever wisdom was tucked into Aeron’s grating voice. As master mason of Raven’s Perch, he retained his tall, well-built figure and quick hands into his later years. Aeron’s bald head rotated to the approaching Will, his face still squished and reddened from frustration.
“And you!” he roared as Will flinched, “You were supposed to be here at dawn to help me set up! I know I possess equal skill in my damn little finger as your lazy self, but I’m not going to be the only one maintaining these walls!”
As Will rushed to collect his tools from a wooden locker at the side of a shed, he answered lowly, “My apologies master, but maybe I would have been on time if I had understood my worth to you more accurately. Perhaps if you promote my rank from a lowly assistant to an actual journeyman…or I’ll settle for assistant damn little finger.”
Aeron looked crossly over his folded arms before a small grin cracked across his face.
“If promotions were based on wit and not physical skill, you would have been made journeyman long ago. And one more sarcastic retort from you before I have my tea this morn, I will introduce you to a different finger.” Without so much as a pause to see Will’s reaction, Aeron set off to the scaffolding.
Well into the afternoon, Will stepped back from his work wearily realizing he had forgotten to take lunch. He hopped down from his post, jumping into the workers’ path in front of mule lead wagons and other laborers cursing his sudden interruption. Giving a humored shrug and a friendly smile, he stepped out of there way. Too busy waving obnoxiously at a grumbling worker, Will didn’t see the small apprentice stumbling in front of him. Colliding, the young man dropped the bucket of mortar he balanced, splattering the mix all over both of them. Will found himself captivated with the way the grey sludge catapulted into the air and flung itself so perfectly across their fronts. Barely batting an eye, he looked across to the young apprentice caked like a plaster statue and wearing a mortified expression.
“Well…” Will matter-of-factly spurted, “I don’t think this batch had enough lime aggregate anyway.”
The apprentice watched him blankly, debating between apologizing and running away. And there was a part debating within Will if he wanted to move on or reprimand him. The seeping thought remained, toying with those desperate green eyes that watched him in fearful anticipation. Lurching forward, Will clasped into the muddied side of the small worker.
“Come with me,” he replied in a mustered serious tone. At his side, he felt the tiny form of the frightened boy shivering. Directing him about the courtyard, Will approached the watchtower he knew Aeron to set post from.
“Stay here while I get something to solve this situation.” Satisfied with the trembling he induced from the whelp, Will stepped out of sight. He first stepped towards the watchtower, but as soon as the young boy looked nervously away, he pranced in the opposite direction. Meanwhile the worker waited shuddering and examining his dirtied shirt clinging to his frail frame. Nervously he pulled the fabric away from his torso and tried to shake the mortar free. His eyes looked up defensively to the workers still moving about with their duties. Satisfied they weren’t watching him or even aware of his presence, he let down his shirt and breathed a nervous sigh.
“You!” a shout rang out behind him. As the boy turned about, he barely could recognize Will’s lanky form before being bombarded with a sudden icy burst of water. After adjusting to the shock, he looked through the water deflecting from his brow and wool blue cap to see Will holding a chained bucket and a ridiculous grin. Horrified, the boy let loose a silent scream and wrapped his arms abruptly across his chest.
“What? Do you want the mortar to dry all over you?”
Teeth chattering, the boy shook his head “no”.
“Come to the well with me and finish washing up…and stop looking so devastated about things. Aeron is the only stickler to protocol around here.” Stepping a small distance, he reached the edge of a wide brimmed barrier circling the well at the center of the fort. Will pulled the drenched apprentice to the stone wall and had him wait fidgeting as he withdrew more pails of water. “I’m Will, by the way. Farrowill if you want to be formal and have your head boxed in,” he rattled on as he hoisted an overflowing bucket free from the murky waters. “I’m studying directly under Aeron, so I’m technically second in command around here even though he won’t admit it. And I’m not trying to brag either, just saying I’ve been around a bit. You however seem to be new or rather elusive to my memory.”
Catching the bucket, Will lifted it above his head, letting the frigid water collide across him. Underestimating the chill, Will dropped the bucket and shook his soaking head. Indifferent to the water he splattered onto the poor companion, Will blurted out, “Brr! That does not mix well with this cool air. Here, wring your shirt out and let it dry before you catch a chill.”
On his cue, Will lifted his own shirt free and draped it across the wall of the well. As he began to remove his undershirt, he realized the young apprentice was watching him horrified, with an edge of curiosity. Looking down at his bare chest—nothing too impressive or muscular by his own standards—he gave a puzzled look.
“Yeah, I’m scrawny as hell, something a certain master mason likes to point out. Stop gawking, already.”
Those big green eyes looked up timidly to him still uneager to give a response.
“Are you all right? Here, take your shirt off and let it dry.”
Reaching the brink of whatever peculiar boundary he had set, the young boy clinched his arms tighter across his chest and began to back away.
“I have to go attend to something…something,” he paused as he looked to Will’s bare chest again, gave a sheepish, nervous smile, and then began to retreat. “Something over there!”
In a sporadic jump, he bolted to the opposite direction with a speed Will wouldn’t have attributed the boy to possessing. Giving a playful wave, Will shrugged off the strange encounter before turning around.
“Strange boy,” he mumbled as he began to wring out his shirt. As his body turned about he found his face level to a pair of scowling eyes.
“Funny, I was about to accuse the one wasting my time standing shirtless in the middle of the courtyard of being strange.”
Jolting back tensely, Will tried to conceal his embarrassment with a large, animated grin.
“Hello Master Aeron. You certainly make it an art sneaking up on people, don’t you?”
His disapproving stare didn’t shift from Will, except once they slipped to scan the scrawny, drenched oddity before him.
Cringing slightly, he answered slowly, “Trust me, I question the usefulness of this skill when confronted with such unsightly visions.”
Defeated, Will crossed his arms across his front and watched the older man while trying to behave nonchalantly.
“I’m taking my break and clothing didn’t necessarily lend itself to practicality past this point,” he stated with what stubborn pride he had left. “I’m sure you would have noticed my diligence to my tasks today given you were about patrolling—I mean, managing in this area…Where have you been all day, anyway?”
Aeron responded with a growl and briskly walked past Will’s side, colliding into his elbow as he left. Looking over his shoulder, Will was disappointed his master didn’t even give a final retort or insult. He was quick to let his boss go, but he caught a peculiar sight as Aeron made his way to the watch tower: his hand flexing tensely. A minor reaction, perhaps, but in a man as stoic as Aeron, he might as well have been screaming angrily for the whole section of the wall to hear.
“Aeron wait!” Will hollered out and ran to meet Aeron at the watchtower’s latter. Aeron looked down blankly as Will continued, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t intending to slack off, but if it looked like that to you, then one of the workers could have felt the same. And as your assistant, I should be setting a better example.” Will bowed his dark head respectfully, but was only given an indifferent laugh.
“You overestimate how much people care about you.”
“Something must really be up with you, then,” Will said, almost terrified, “You never laugh at me.”
‘Will you stop being so melodramatic and get back to work!” Aeron grumbled. “And my business of whether or not I’m laughing or if something is the matter is none of your concern anyway.” Wishing to continue his route to the tower room, Aeron turned his head towards the sky.
“So is that your game? As soon as someone knows you well enough to be able to tell when you’re upset, you just blow them off? No wonder you’re always alone,” Will hissed and began to walk away. Looking down to the gravel path of the yard, he began to count his steps and linger each pass of his boots across the ground.
“Will, wait!”
A smug grin slipped across Will’s face and a devious gleam sparked in his eyes as Aeron took the bait. Replacing his conceited expression with feigned concern, Will turned back around. Aeron’s hawk eyes looked around to the bustling laborers moving indifferently about. Confident no one noticed or cared, he gestured Will to his side.
“Inside. We’ll talk.”
The two climbed the rope and timber latter to the perch nestled just high enough to crest the fortress walls. It was only a temporary construct for Aeron’s overseeing, but it had become well settled with books and large documents of construction plans. Even some of Aeron’s empty rum bottles had burrowed their way into various nooks in the parchment piles. Shuttered windows and a dying fire nestled in the middle of the room barely illuminated the place. Will stepped into the cavernous room reeking of ink and singed paper. Aeron went to a rickety chair at the corner of the room and didn’t offer Will a place to remain. Eyeing a bench cautiously, Will slowly inched his way over to the seat.
“So what’s wrong?” Will waited in silence for a response as Aeron began to toy with the embers of the fire. Instead of answering, Aeron watched the dying flames with a somber air, even closing his eyes to feel the warmth across his face. He released a deep sigh before suddenly grabbing a flask of water across his desk and flinging bitterly the liquid across the trickling flames. And with a hardened scowl, he looked on as the bright, fleeting glow was swallowed up, consumed by its surrounds.
“Aeron, what’s wrong?” Will asked again, this time in a whisper.
“I suppose this does concern you in some regard, and I don’t suppose I can finish this fort without your help.”
“If that’s what’s troubling you, I’m certain we can finish the walls on schedule…but I’m certain there’s something more troubling you.”
“The schedules been changed,” Aaron interjected, “Two months.”
“That’s no problem at all!” Will laughed, “Be at ease. We can pull the crews from the south brim to push things along at the fort.”
“Not the fort, Will!” Aaron snapped. “ALL of the walls surrounding Raven’s Perch.”
Still wearing the lingering smile from his previous optimism, Will’s eyes expanded suddenly. In his mind, he saw beyond the new construction of the fort to the ancient stretch of worn down defense walls surrounding the island and the numerous gates at each of the ports. During the slow trudge of time existing after the truce of Iderus, the progress of repairs on the outer walls had stalled in hopes peace would last long enough for financing to reconstruct. Compared to the protection of the new fort, the urgency to finish these walls had become secondary.
“But that’s…that’s…impossible!” he moaned. “We don’t have the manpower to complete such an undertaking. Let alone the material to construct everything. The stone has not even been cleared from the mines!”
“You don’t think I don’t know this!” Aaron shouted bitterly. He slammed his fist on to the piles of parchment resting on his desk, seemingly mocking his toils. The fury in Aeron’s eye ceased as he looked across the room to remains of the fire still smoldering across the hearth stone. “I’m sorry,” he inhaled painfully. “I shouldn’t be letting my stress fall to you.”
“You also shouldn’t think my twelve years hasn’t taught me nothing about your woes. You know full well we can make the necessary repairs if we get the other Azure Islands to help. Work does not trouble you. It is the ‘why’ that you burden yourself with.”
Aeron did not answer and instead watched eagerly for his assistant to make his own revelations.
“Lord Rockwell swore to us the new fort would be the ideal defense of Raven’s Perch. No longer did we have to rely on the distant royal armada to defend us and the vast stretch of walls surrounding the island. So something tells me the order of repairing the seawalls is a commission from the king. Something is amiss and we cannot rely on our own defenses any longer.”
“When you’re not being a smart ass, you do possess some intelligent thought in you. I cannot confirm your suspicions as the facts I know are only rumors of a scheme too grand for my fathoming. But not only has the king requested the sea fairing walls be repaired, he intends to bring the royal family to inspect the work.”
“Do you think he is going into hiding?” Will asked abruptly.
“It is true there have been rumors of political unrest at the capitol, but if there was ever any danger, he would retreat to the strongholds to the west at Floxley’s Pass or the locks at Durinshire Canals. Raven’s Perch is of little defensive or monetary advantage to the East Azure Islands, let alone the entirety of Iderus. Whatever the reason, it is most important that the king is on the move and any reasoning for it whisper of our nightmares being reborn.”
Of the grand island of Iderus, four kingdoms reigned in the different geographies. The two neighbors of the Blue and Green Kingdoms existed with an uneasy truce created after the Great War. Then with the mountainous Red Kingdom, trade maintained a fragile relationship built on commerce and economy. And these kingdoms would carry on with their hesitant respect as they stood united against the one kingdom that could bring ruin to them all. Will recalled the lore of the ruthless people of the desert, a calculating nation infamous for their subtle infiltration into the surrounding three kingdoms. A devouring, yet welcomed vine, the rival kingdom found every fissure of weakness in the governments and placed assassins ready to strike down the monarchies. Only one royal family survived the slaughter after apprehending one of the elusive assassins. Self-inflicting a fatal wound, the assassin offered only one declaration for his cause:
Two without the other is forgotten, but one is still alone and will not wait in time for the shadows to be erased.
A riddle once revered but drifted into forgotten recollection as time moved forward. Now it repossessed its forlorn warning as the only royal family left spared was travelling to Raven’s Perch under unknown pretenses.
“I have however heard of an unsettling tale from our ‘friends’ to the north,” Aaron murmured. “Apparently the new king of the Jade Forests faced down an assassin at a private banquet. It is a rumor they tried to repress seeing as it could just be a disgruntled faction existing in the Green Kingdom, but if not, there is greater gravity to the situation.”
Will sat up from his bench and began to pace the room, dragging his fingers over top the collections of bound plans and leftover bottles.
“I suppose worrying puts me no closer to the answers I seek. And, Will, try not to fret over such things, either. Careful watch is upon the Yellow Kingdom. The Golden Desert has been reduced to nomads living in poverty and near anarchy. Even if they managed to elude the other kingdom’s watch, it would take quite the force to lead those people.”
“I’m not worried,” Will hummed as he moved about. Looking through the cracks of the shutters, he surveyed the workers below, then the steep walls of the fort. Beyond the courtyard were the closely knit buildings and stores of Raven’s Perch existing all the way to the coastline a league away. Perhaps it retained some splendor as a port, but to Will, it was a dismal cage. Giving a discontent snuff, he turned back to Aeron. “It does make one wonder what changes would come to this place if war were to break out.”
“I recognize that tone,” Aeron interjected. “It’s the same morbid yet romanticized curiosity I used to hold about war. I know you’re a restless spirit, Will, but the onset of battle won’t grant you the heroism and adventure you desire. All it serves to do is remind you of all you had before the turmoil…and destroy every last beautiful fragment of the life you used to take for granted.” As Aeron finished his lecturing, Will watched as the man’s rugged fingers extended out to a ceramic jug pinning down a frail binding of notes. Instead of taking a swig from the bottle, Aeron pushed the drink away and clutched onto the journal. He raised the book into the air and watched it with a wary caution. Across the worn away cover of the mahogany leather binding was the faint emblem of a raindrop.
“There are many commanding forces at work in this world, Will, and none are as unfathomable or disparaging as a man’s heart.”
Tuning out the excessive bellowing of drunken patrons, Will hunched over his table, running his fingers across the various knife marks and knots across the surface. His light eyes flitted briefly up to his father serving drinks at the bar before returning to his aimless waiting. The work was diminutive for Osiris, but necessary to maintain the small hovel he and Will dwelled in. The company or atmosphere didn’t entice Will to stay, especially as he watched a drunken man pass out of his chair and collide with an aged barmaid. However, if he listened close enough, the appropriate gossip would reach his ears.
“I just got back from a trade route through the Golden Deserts. It’s vacant. There’s nothing. It’s a pure waste of our taxes to continue patrolling them.”
“Anyone who would have supported their uprising is dead anyway,” a bearded young man spoke at a nearby table. He was seated by a merchant in distinctive emerald robes and an older fellow having nothing to do with their words.
“And I’m telling you those Yellows should never be trusted! They are wicked sorcerers possessed by greed.”
“That’s a rather bold accusation. I’ve met some very pleasant Yellows in my travels and they were perfectly reasonable. Some even resented the practice of sorcery,” the merchant added.
“You probably just encountered possessed ones. Factored ones can be deceived into saying anything.”
As the men at the table gave a nervous chuckle to the old man’s rants, Will felt a sudden grasp on his shoulder. Jumping anxiously up, he spun around to see his father watching him with indifferent eyes.
“Ready to go?” he asked dryly.
“Yes…” Will gave an exasperated hiss. He gathered up his coat and chased down Osiris as he already made for the door.
Sensing Will at his side as they entered into narrow alley, Osiris murmured, “I don’t need for you to wait up for me. I had hoped you could make your way home now without my watch. And I’m sure Aeron appreciates your tardiness when you pull a late night.”
“It’s not that. There’s been a change of plans with the project. I’ve been temporarily promoted.”
“Leave it to my gifted son to be ‘temporarily’ promoted,” Osiris grumbled.
“Sir…” Will answered lowly, “Aeron’s asked me to stay with him until the completion of the latest undertaking. This will be potentially two months. I wanted to seek your permission before I agree to this.”
“Farrowill, I was ready to be rid of you twelve years ago when I let Aeron train you.”
“I suspected as much,” Will sighed. Looking to his father still walking in front of him, he noticed Osiris’s head fallen forward enough to conceal his somber frown. His chin tucked down and his peppered hair shadowed the rest of his face. Raising his hand hesitantly, Will patted Osiris’s back.
With an intense tone, Will stated, “At least rent my room out for an inflated price.”
“At least double what it’s worth…if I can ever clean it to a suitable state with the way you’ve trashed it,” Osiris added before any emotion slipped into his words. “You say this is just for a couple months? What’s the cause?”
“Rushed schedule for completion,” Will stammered, hoping to not have to elaborate any further. He rolled his shoulders nervously, an act Osiris thought nothing of. Even after discussing things further with Aeron of the build, Will could not shake the creeping sense something was amiss. This entire day from the start gave him a peculiar feeling of apprehension. His father however retained the same steadfast look of confidence mixed with complacency and boredom.
“You think you’ll get the work done in time?” Osiris asked for the sake of sustained conversation.
“Yes. Well, we’re scaling back the work on the interior chambers and are already a third done with the fortress walls. We are even recruiting from the other isles to work on the sea barricades—”
“The sea barricades?” Osiris snapped suddenly. He stopped and turned completely around to face his son. Will had provoked many expressions from his father growing up, even reaching the point of making a hobby of it. This look however—possessing startling distress and perplexed consideration—took Will back. It was the same look he remembered when he had broken his arm from a fall and Osiris ran the span of the island to come tend to him; it was the look of a man who knew he was completely powerless to protect what he loved, but refused to surrender or stand idly by. It was courage Will couldn’t bring himself to possess, knowing he’d never loved anything so strongly.
“They didn’t say why we’re expanding the scope of work,” Will added quickly, desperately trying to bury the issue. It was not for Osiris’s peace of mind, but for himself as he felt for the first time an onset of doubt he couldn’t suppress. “At least not for any defense reasons. I believe it’s an attempt to bring stimulus to the area by completing repairs.”
“Certainly,” Osiris mumbled with a distant tone. Before Will could question, his downturned face snapped upwards. “What do you need from home?”
“Uh?” Will choked, “My clothes, I suppose. A few books from the desk and my savings.”
“Which books?”
“Just a couple for pleasure reading…if I have time at all for it. I’ll collect them when we get there.”
Their street was still a distance away at the foot of the hill the fort perched upon. Currently, they passed the nicer structures of the commercial district with merchant stalls vacated for the evening. Few other citizens occupied the streets as they made their way to early morning shifts. Overall, it was the same bland town of Raven Perch with nothing eventful to attribute to Will’s life.
“No use for you to walk all the way home only to walk back here in a few hours,” Osiris offered. “Why don’t you go to Aeron now before he retires for the night?”
“It’s far too early for that! He’ll kill me if I wake him.”
“That’s his hut, isn’t it?”
Osiris pointed to an illuminated cottage barely visible beyond the boundaries of the fort. Sure enough, it was the one home normally sanctioned for guardsmen given to Aeron for the length of the project still lit for the late hour.
“I’ll stop by there tomorrow with a cart of your supplies before your shift. I wish to speak with some people in the area, including Aeron. It’s just to save you the walk,” Osiris added after seeing his son’s questioning look.
“Are you certain? And you can manage to find everything of mine?”
“I’m just going to take a shovel to the mess of your room and pile it onto a cart. Anything that doesn’t fit will be thrown out.”
Will’s face went gaunt at the idea, but concealed it with a joke, “Don’t be too eager, now!”
“Go curl up in an alley then and sleep if you fear going to Aeron. Just get some rest so you don’t cause any more errors in your work than normal for you.”
No longer eager to debate the issue, Will gave an agreeing shrug.
“Fine then. I’ll try to visit you if I see you arrive. Will you be fine without me?”
Instead of the normal brash blow-off of any attempt at family affection, Osiris stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Will. Tensing up from the sudden act, Will barely heard a small utterance from his father.
“Stick with Aeron and keep a watchful eye out.”
Not one to linger with farewells, Will made his way quickly to the staff housing at the gates of the fortress. Half of the cottages were vacant or still being constructed, while the rest of the street was lined with navy tents housing some of the lesser ranks. The existence must have been miserable exposed to the island’s constant frigid sea breeze and rainy weather, but Will would have accepted the life if it meant training to be a guardsman. Bitterly, he looked back to the shadows of the unfinished walls taunting his lackluster existence.
About to continue to Aeron’s, Will halted at the sudden touch of warmth passing through the night air. It was as the peculiar breeze he woke to the prior morn, baring the smell of dust and the song of coarse sand trickling over the paved road. With a reaction he couldn’t explain, Will turned back to watch the fortress walls. In the brief moment he spun about, he caught the out of place shadow of a rope being flung over the top of the eastern wall. The sound of scraping metal lightly echoed as a hook latched onto the top of the rampart.
Instinctively, Will dropped low and shuffled to the nearest cover, pausing only to pick up a spade stacked against a storage hut. He made his way to the scaffolding, holding the pick out defensively. His mind debated between sounding alarm, but he silenced with his desire to solely control the situation. As his vision adjusted to see a darkened figure beginning to scale the wall, it occurred to him the south gate was still open. In a blur of action, Will frantically ran to the front before composing himself when in sight of a single guard keeping watch of the unfinished gate. He was faced again with the chance to alert to the mysterious intruder, but he could only offer the excuse of leaving his satchel of coins within the fort. Knowing Will, the guard did not question and permitted him access. Still collected, he walked past the gate, turned into a stairwell unlit for the evening and darted up to the top of the walls.
He swiftly glided across the walkway before ducking behind a turret close to the hooked rope. His fingers constricted about the wooded handle of his spade and his heavy breath ceased as he listened to the approaching scuffle of feet along the stone surface. Will shut his eyes and felt the pound of his heart synchronize to the increasingly closer steps. Each pulse emptied fear from him, leaving only a keen readiness to the intruder’s approach. Instinct took over as he felt the presence of another stepping onto the ledge above him. With a swift motion, he caught the fabric of boots and a cape and flung the body to the ground. The figure fell onto his stomach and let loose a high pitched yelp. Despite the pain surging through his body, the hooded intruder leapt up to flee with agility surprising Will. Not about to let him escape, Will tackled into his side and pinned the small frame down with his spade.
“You have one chance to explain yourself before I cast you back over the wall you came from,” Will hissed as he constricted his hand across the intruder’s cloaked jaw.
“Wait! Please!”
Slightly shocked by the high pitched cry, his grasp loosened slightly , providing enough give for the intruder to swipe away Will’s hands and thrust him away with his knees. Before he could react, Will watched as his attacker did not leave and instead removed his mask.
“Oh it’s you,” Will murmured, disenchanted after recognizing him to be the young boy he confronted earlier. “You talk now or my offer to see you over the wall still holds.”
“I can explain,” he breathed softly, “but please trust me and not reveal me.”
“Don’t try me!” Will stood ready to attack. “I’ve never seen you before today, on the very day security has heightened around here and we’re charged with finishing up the defenses. There are too many things going on in the shadows of this island, and I’ll not settle until I get some answers.”
“I’m not an attacker! I just want to work.”
“By scaling the walls hours before shift and avoiding check-in with security? At least lie to me with some creativity!”
The intruder mumbled an inaudible curse before pulling away his cloak to reveal a hidden badge. Will dropped his pick apprehensively and stood stiffly at attention.
“Oh…” he gulped nervously before giving a shy laugh.
“How’s this for creativity,” he snidely responded. Across the boy’s shoulder was a metallic crest bearing the Azure Kingdom royal seal.
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