Silverhand felt more naked in the robes than he did on the day he was born.
To his surprise and dismay, Reinard had been able to have some formal robes made for him in a short amount of time. They were black, with a scarlet sheen in the light. He was missing the traditional cape, but seeing as he was already going to draw attention. He figured one more thing people would stare at him for wouldn’t hurt. The robes themselves were impeccable, and Silverhand would have loved them had Captain Chin and his squad of cronies gotten to it first.
They’d noticed Silverhand lifting the keys to the cuffs, and their solution was to weave strands of the Ininka stone into the robes. Even going as far as enchanting the fibers so that the robes couldn’t be removed without Dashards direct order.
To sum things up. Silverhand was alone on an island he’d never heard of. He was stripped of nearly all his possessions and so thoroughly cut off from magic that even the Gods couldn’t hear his prayers. Not that he ever did that sort of thing anyways.
He put his left hand in his pocket, mentally going through the vials he’d pocketed earlier. Silverhand grabbed vials he thought would help him escape a Naval base, but that was the least of his worries.
He was getting that feeling again. A white-hot spike between his shoulder blades grew hotter as they entered the night. Silverhand had spent much of the evening trying to dose the troubling sensation with whatever drink they had, but that turned into a wicked game of cat and mouse as he swore the platters were starting to avoid him. Ultimately, he had to get a little creative to get a pitcher of some golden cocktail he’d only tasted a glass of earlier. It was a delicious golden elixir of pineapple and star melon that Silverhand only enjoyed for a few precious moments before Rynnelle stormed up to him with Dashard closely following behind her.
She tried to talk to him, but Silverhand could only half pay attention as the spike between his shoulders burst into a supernova. He searched the room. Finding nothing at the exits or windows and no disruptions amongst the guests besides the one he caused. Silverhand looked up and knew he hadn’t drunk nearly enough to deal with what would happen next. He tried to raise the pitcher to his lips, but Dashard grabbed his wrist. Bringing him back into the apparent conversation he was having.
“Besides,” Silverhand said as he yanked his wrist from free Dashards grip. He pointed towards the ceiling right as he began to finish off the pitcher, “You should be worried about yourselves, not Kaleon.”
The dome ceiling had blacked out, and a chilled silence spread over all the guests as they slowly took notice. Hundreds of eyes appeared in the darkness, and the night descended into madness.
The entire ballroom turned into a frenzy as Lords and Ladies tried to rush to the exits, only to press against the doors and force them shut. Screams tore through the music as guests entered a mad brawl against the Naval officers who tried to maintain order.
The eyes in the night blinked, watching the people scurry around the room like ants. Its face split, revealing row upon row of hook-like teeth. Dozens of spider webs appeared as the maw bit down on the dome. An ear-piercing roar shattered the dome, sending daggers of glass to rain on the stunned guests below.
“Spirit of zephyr, coat me in your reverence.” Silverhand tore his eyes from the ceiling to see that Dashard was gone. He blinked, scanning the crowd until he saw a familiar large frame easily flow through the raging sea of chaos.
An aura of wind gathered around Dashard. Naval officers at the center of the room tried to clear away as many people as possible, but it didn’t look like it would be enough. Then, Dashard broke through the line, grabbing the hilt of his sword and taking a quick stance at the room’s center. He jumped up at hurricane speeds to meet the glass, drawing his sword and releasing a slash of wind that blasted half of the shards to dust. Dashards aura of wind loosened, allowing him to do nothing but float down and watch as the remaining glass kept coming. Before he hit the ground, the other two captains were in the air, sending out slashes that destroyed the remaining shards.
There was a pause in the madness, a couple of nervous laughs followed by clapping.
“You got a safe room?”
“What?” Silverhands’ question tore Rynnelle the moment, and her attention fell back to him, “Why are you asking me that?”
“Because this is around the time you should head there.”
“I’m not moving until you tell me what happened to Kal,” Rynnelle said, clarifying that there was no point in convincing her otherwise.
Silverhand shrugged as he raised the pitcher again, “If you say so, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The lights in the room flickered.
The guests looked up in time to see the creature breath an oily black smoke into the ballroom. Sparks flew across the air as dozens of lights blew, and the captains moved as the column of smoke crashed into the room’s center. A chorus of maniacal laughter resonated through the growing darkness, as the temperature in the room began to fall.
Silverhand gingerly sipped at the pitcher’s contents, savoring the taste. He leaned against the wall beneath one of the rods, Rynnelle standing next to him. Silverhand offered some of the elixir as an olive branch, but Rynnelle’s glare left two burn holes in his head.
A phalanx of Naval officers surrounded them, forming a barrier to protect the frightened guests. One row was armed with spears and shields, and the other with Ininka bolas. The first row slammed their spears onto the floor and chanted in unison, “We tether our hearts to those unfettered.” Cloud stuff rose from the floor like a spring, forming a ring around the center. “Guard our charges and reject those who wish us constrained.” The clouds rose and created a vortex that surrounded the smoke. The Naval Guild brandished their weapons. Rynnelle and everyone in the room waited with bated breath except Silverhand, who took another swig of his drink.
Shadows infected the clouds, a vile sickness that sapped all hope and warmth from the room. The shadows parted, and pirates descended onto the Navy.
Spears wrapped in razor winds impaled the first wave, gouging them through and blowing away entire sections of their bodies at the touch. A barrage of bolas hit the second wave before they could pass the first. To the horror of the officers, the pirates exploded into shadows and smoke instead of falling to the ground, only to reappear seconds later, charging forward as the first wave rose again.
Silverhand saw the shock as it registered on the officer’s faces. It was a split second of indecision as they realized they were about to be overwhelmed. That was when Dashard and the other captains appeared. Although he still had reservations, Silverhand had to give credit where credit was due. The only reason the Navy had yet to be overwhelmed was Dashard.
The other captains were there, cutting down any pirate that got too close, but Dashard was a whirlwind of steel and motion. He cut off arms, legs, occasionally cutting off heads with a single slash of his blade. But where the other captains moved on after the first seemingly fatal blow, Dashard kept going. His sword formed a cutting field around him, turning the pirates into ribbons.
A fist the size of a boulder brought a jagged cleaver down on Dashards head. Dashard barely reacted in time, bringing his sword up to block and then dropping a knee at the force of the blow. A monster of a man stepped out of the smoke, looking down on Dashard with a snaggletooth grin. Dashard gritted his teeth as he fought to his feet, and the man rewarded him with a punch to the stomach that lifted him off his feet.
Dashard flew back, breaking the line of officers. The man followed, leading the pirates like wolves to slaughter.
Terror of an all-new kind filled the ballroom. Lords and Ladies of the Parliament of Isles, many of which belonged to the most influential Houses in the Iega, were herded like cattle away from the Navy. A few guests had taken to the light for protection, but they still crowded the doors, trying to escape. There was the sound of gunfire, and the rods above the exits exploded one by one, snuffing out even more light. Shadows and smoke filled the air, and the ceiling disappeared in the bitter darkness.
Silverhand glanced at Rynnelle. As the pirates overtook the Navy, she’d shuffled closer to him. Not that she even noticed. Rynnelles eyes were wide. Her hands clamped around her mouth to keep herself from screaming. Silverhand knew that look, remembering when he wore it himself, even if that was a lifetime ago. Getting used to pirates crashing events was a bittersweet feeling that he silently hoped Rynnelle wouldn’t develop herself.
A new sound filled the night, a soul-crushing shriek that silenced all other noise in the room. Back in the center of the room, a pirate held one of the Lords by the throat, knocking his bowler hat to the floor. The Lord struggled to escape, but the pirates’ fingers dug into his neck, twisting his face in pain and anguish. Shadows flowed from the pirate’s hand and burrowed under the Lord’s flesh. Bulging black veins spread through his body. He tried to plead for mercy, but liquid shadows bubbled from his lips, drowning all words. The shadows crawled up his face, covering his eyes until they were nothing but spheres of glistening night.
Rynnelle gasped and took a few tentative steps forward. Silverhand briefly thought he’d need to keep her from stepping out from the light, but she stopped at the edge. His hands balled into white-knuckled fists as tears streamed down her face.
The pirate released his grip, absorbing the shadows as the Lord dropped unceremoniously to the floor. His body was nothing but a pale, shriveled husk of the man it was before. The pirate studied the scene around him, ensuring he had the room’s full attention.
He was older, tea-light candles woven in between a salt and pepper beard. Sitting on his head was a captain’s hat made of wax, a black flame flickering on a wick at the top.
One of the Naval captains shouted as they charged forward to meet the captain. The Naval captain swung her sword, intending to cut the captain in half. Silverhand couldn’t have guessed if the captains had a plan of attack, but whatever it might’ve been wasn’t meant to be. The pirate captain drew his sword, parrying the captain and slicing the ground, leaving a trail of flaming shadows that pushed the Navy captain back.
“And who’s Manor, do I have the honor of being in?” Despite the circumstances, the pirate captain’s voice was an odd mix of formal ambivalence. As if he’d rather be anywhere else but the party that his own people crashed. When nobody made a sound, the pirate spoke again, seeding a slight annoyance in his voice as the grip on his sword tightened, “Will more people have to die before I get my answer?”
“No! No need for that!” Reinard squeezed himself through the crowd, nearly falling into the cleared space at the center of the room. Silverhand saw Rynnelle tense at her father’s sudden appearance. Lightning raced through her hair, and Silverhand stopped her right before she ran out to him. He gave her a single shake of his head. Rynnelles eyes were pleading, but Silverhand held firm. He saw when the fear won out and watched her move back to the wall.
Reinard tried to portray confidence as the pirate captain strode to him, but his hair betrayed him, rain streaming down his face. “I am Lord Reinard Odu-.”
“I don’t care.” The captain snatched Reinard up. When he spoke, the words came from every shadow in the room. “I’d prefer not to waste each other’s time. Someone here has a treasure that belongs to us. The Eclipse Lantern. Bring yourself and it to me, and we will leave and do no further harm. Otherwise, I’ll make this island a smear on the map.” The room was as quiet as death. “Smear it is, then.”
“Yo Wickersby, lookin’ for this?”
Every head in the room turned, and the sea of guests parted, giving the pirate captain an uninterrupted look at Silverhand.
The pirate captain dropped Reinard, who scrambled away. He took a few steps forward towards Silverhand. The mild annoyance in his voice had flared, becoming a bulging vein in his forehead. Through gritted teeth, he growled, “What are you doing here.”
Silverhand ambled forward, still swaying and nearly falling over as he poured the last remnants of the elixir into his mouth before tossing the pitcher over his shoulder. The glass shattered on the floor behind him.
He looked over his shoulder to Rynnelle, grinning broadly, “I knew he’d recognize a pretty face.” Silverhand turned to the captain, twirling the wicked lantern around his right hand by its silver ring.
Silverhand The candle glowed an eerie silver light mixed with the rod’s golden light and the expansive darkness, “Abduuuuuul!” Silverhand spread his hands, Losing his balance for a second and righting himself by shifting his weight. “You look good! Love the way the candles bring out your eyes.”
Captain Abdul Ketema gritted his teeth, his gaze flickering between Silverhand and the Eclipse Lantern he so callously played with in his hand. Abdul’s eyes narrowed, “What is this? Another act of rebellion?”
Silverhand waved a hand dismissively, “Psssshaw, I’m just in the neighborhood. Oh!” He gasped as if remembering something important, “Did you see the garden on your way in? It’s so nice!” He looked over his shoulder to Rynnelle, “It really is. Give your Gardener a raise.”
“Let’s make this quick, shall we?” Abdul said, bringing them on track. “Give me the lantern, and tell me who you stole it from. You’ve helped us in the past. You can do it again. ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend’ is the term you used if I recall.”
Silverhand looked as if he’d affronted. “Stole?! I’ll have you know I got this in a little shop in town at a five-finger discount. So it is rightfully mine according to the rules of Sir Finders and Lord Keepers.”
There was a pause as Abdul just stared at Silverhand. Unsure whether or not he was too drunk to comprehend the situation he was in or if he was just crazy. When he finally spoke, he said, “Kaine, take the lantern and then his other hand to sober him up.”
Silverhand gave another affronted look as the monster man from before stepped into the path cleared by the guests. The man, Kaine, cracked his knuckles with a malevolent smile spreading across his face. “Oh, It’ll be my pleasure,” he stalked forward, cleaver dangling at his side, stopping just short of entering the swirling mix of black and silver light.
Kaine’s smile flickered at the sight of the light. His moment of hesitation lasted a fraction of a second and was missed by most of the room. So when Silverhand burst out laughing, it looked like he’d just gone mad.
Silverhand wipes a tear from his eye, “Whatswrong?” he taunted, slurring his words together as he craned his neck to look at Kaine. “Scaredofalittlenightlight?”
“Come here, you little-” Anger flashed on Kaine’s face as he stepped into the silver light to grab Silverhands head.
“Actually, I get why you avoid the light. Anyone ever tell you that you have a face only a mother could love?”
Kaine looked down at his empty fingers, then back to Silverhand. Standing there untouched. Kaine furrowed his brow as he reached for him again. Watching in surprise when Silverhand deftly leaned just out of reach.
“You know magic’s a thing, right? You can get that fixed.”
There was a roar in frustration, and Kaine gave up trying to grab Silverhand. Kaine was a hurricane raining down a flurry of blows on the drunken fool. All it would take was a single punch. That’s all he ever needed to knock someone’s head clean off.
If Kaine was a hurricane, Silverhand was a tree that refused to be uprooted. To Kaines’ utter disbelief, Silverhand sloppily dodged each of his blows. He moved left and right, bending backward so the fist passed over him, getting into his reach before somehow slipping out of Kaine’s fingers right before they could touch him. It was like trying to catch a leaf in the wind.
“Okay, okay, if you’re not going to fix your face, then at least see a dentist,” Silverhand said as Kaine roared again, wrapping meaty fingers around the cleaver’s handle and adding its wild slashes to his assault. It still wasn’t enough. “I was a pirate, too, so don’t use that as an excuse for bad dental hygiene.”
Kaine cursed with each swing, slicing the air with enough force to slice Silverhand in two if he could hit him. This was absurd. There was no reason this child should be giving him any trouble. “Stand still!” Kaine barked.
“Okay,” Instead of dodging, sparks flew in the air as Silverhand parried the cleaver with the lantern. Kaine’s eyebrows rose in shock at the sudden action. It was another moment of hesitation, and like before, Silverhand capitalized.
His prosthetic, or as Silverhand liked to call his Winning Hand, was a relatively new item to his arsenal but quickly became one of his favorites. The hand was made of Radantum, with white, red, blue, and green gemstones in the knuckles and white and black gems on the back of his hand and palm. It was initially made to test for different magical elements, but he had another use in mind.
Silverhand clenched the Winning Hand into a fist and launched it into Kaine’s knee.
There was a slight pause as Kaine looked down at the shattered remains of his knee. He wanted to laugh and looked up to Silverhand as he waited for the shadows to heal him. Kaine opened his mouth to say, ‘That your best shot?’. However, when he opened his mouth, the only noise that passed his lips was a bloody screech that was verging on supersonic as a supernova of pain exploded up his leg.
The cleaver clattered to the ground as he clutched his knee, but his scream ended when Silverhand used Mr.Right like a spear and drove it right into Kaine’s throat.
Liquid shadows spilled out of Kaines mouth, and Silverhand grabbed a handful of his beard. Stepping back as he pulled down hard.
Kaine was still trying to process what was happening when he fell through the silver light and into the gold, landing face-first in the shattered remains of the pitcher.
As Kaine lay still, his skin sizzling at the touch of the golden light, Silverhand casually through the lantern over his shoulder. The black ichor on Mr.Righty evaporated as he put the hand the gold. “Was Kaine supposed to be your right-hand man?” Silverhands asked, looking toward the stunned Abdul, “Because I wouldn’t really call him ‘reliable,'”
Abdul’s candles erupted, flames engulfing his head and his face twisting into a demonic skull of shadows. “Do you think this is a game? I wanted to be reasonable, but I see now you’ve mistaken that for weakness. “
“Not real-” Silverhand began to interject, but the ferocity in Abduls’ voice cut him off. “I’ve suffered this curse longer than you’ve been alive, boy, and I won’t let you stop me now that I’m close to getting what I want.”
All at once, the ballroom temperature plummeted again, sucking out the remaining warmth as Abdul started an incantation. “Everlasting abyss, may this sacrifice placate your insatiable hunger,” The ceiling of darkness shuddered. “I offer their hope, for they still think their lives belong to them.” the darkness fell, once again filling the night with screams as it slammed into the guests like a tsunami, blinding them as it dominated the room. Silverhand took several steps back, using Kaine as a bridge to get over the broken glass to stand at the wall beside Rynnelle. The light of the lantern blended with that of the rod, making them the only thing the darkness could not get ahold of.
“I offer their screams. May the litany act as prayer and give you strength.” Just like that, all of the screams cut out in a single instant. Hitting Silverhand and Rynnelle with a wave of deafening silence and stranding them in a sea of black.
“I offer their light. Consume it, and bless them with your eternal embrace.” Hands of shadows pressed against the light. Silverhand realized he’d been mistaken earlier. The light wasn’t acting as a barrier. It was going to be their tomb.
“Hold this,” Silverhand thrust the lantern into Rynnelles hands before she could respond. Reaching into his pocket to pull out the vials, picking two. One was filled with a swirling purple liquid, and the other vial was filled with light.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Rynnelle said, looking between Silverhand and the lantern.
Silverhand stuffed the remaining three back in his pocket, popped the cork of the second vial he’d grabbed, and downed the contents. He closed his eyes shut and put a hand on Rynnelles shoulder. “We got one shot of making it out of here. Tell me when they’re close, and then close your eyes.”
“What?!” Rynnelle screamed frantically. The hands continued pressing down on the light, and she heard an intense hissing sound. She looked towards Kaine, catching the moment the light no longer covered his feet. The hands snatch Kaine and drag him into the dark. Rynnelle opened her mouth but stopped herself. Kaine was gone, but she still heard that hissing sound. She looked up and caught the rod strobing. Rynnelle thought it was going to go out, but it kept fighting.
“Uhhh, Rynnelle?” Silverhands said, “They sound kinda close. We good?”
She swallowed hard. Ignoring Silverhand and the impending shadows. Rynnelle felt like she’d just surfaced after being swept up in a current of fear and terror. She focused on the radantum rod, drawing strength from it even as it weakened with every passing second.
Silverhand squeezed her shoulder again, shaking her a bit as he did, the makings of panic in his voice. “Hey, no pressure, but I just wanted to say I can’t really see right now. So you going all silent on me isn’t giving me a lot of confidence,”
The shadows advanced, and Rynnelles grip on the lantern tightened. The rod was visibly shaking against the strain. The cycle of dimming and brightening repeats again and again. Rynnelle steeled herself, pushing out everything else in her mind.
The rod flickered once, twice, and then faded to black. Sinister fingers of shadows and smoke penetrated the silver light, intended to grab them both and drag them through the darkness, “Now!” Rynnelle screamed.
Rynnelle closed her eyes as Silverhand opened his. Unleashing the sun’s full force and banishing the night from the room. Silverhand saw as the pirates were incinerated, and the guests shrank back as if struck by a wave of power.
Silverhand downed the purple vial, swept Rynnelle off her feet, and booked it for the nearest door. He was halfway down the hall before the light radiating from his eyes finally dissipated. “You can open your eyes now,” Silverhand said.
A barrage of lightning filled Rynnelle’s hair, and an arc of electricity nipped at Silverhands face as she opened one eye. Afraid of what she might see. Silverhand was sure the pirates would need a minute or two before they would reform. So when Rynnelle screamed, he nearly dropped her.
“Why are you yelling?!”
“What is that?!”
“What is what?!” Silverhand looked over his shoulder to the bushy purple tail sprouting out of his back. “oh, that,”
Jayson J. 