Читать книгу Scars of Iron - Ivy G. Shadrick - Страница 5

Humans had searched for perfection for thousands of years. They always wanted more and were constantly discontent with their lives. Science had always sought to make the world better. And we soon found a way to create a perfect society.

We currently live in a world that so many before us only dreamed of; a world without hunger, a united society in which all are equal—the world I had only previously imagined.

But if our version of life is better than a world with impurity is up for debate. And this, even I am unable to answer, not now and possibly not ever. This is a question that has plagued me for decades, a question that I am terrified to answer.

-A.A public entry

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My eyes fluttered open, and I could only make out one shape in the darkness. The person who had destroyed my life and all I had ever worked for stood only five paces from my bed.

They wore a deep ebony cloak that hid them in the shadows of my bedroom. And I still couldn’t see the figure's face, hidden in the folds of their hood.

So I tried not to move, or give them any indication that I was awake.

Before I could think, they lunged for me and pulled me from my bed. My petite build was quickly overpowered, and I didn’t struggle with all of my strength as I was forced into an upright position.

The attacker pulled me out of my bedroom, reached for the leather-bound book lying on the ground, and shoved it into the pocket of their dark cloak. And the figure continued to drag me toward my front door. Still enveloped in the drowsiness of my sleep, I allowed them to pull me into the night, accepting the inevitable.

Awaiting us was a self-driving transport, coated in a black so dark, it seemed to absorb all light around it.

The figure forced me into the back of the carrier and hopped in after me. As the doors slammed shut, my entire body winced. And with a small click, I was locked in.

The ride in the carrier was filled with a pure torturous silence. And only small shards of light crept through the narrow, tinted windows, with no sound penetrating the walls.

I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my chin on them, and I rocked myself back and forth. No tears escaped my eyes, and no sobs tore from my throat. But a shudder shot through my body and sent me trembling.

Inhale.

Exhale.

I repeated the words like a prayer.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Then I started to recite a song that I had not thought of since I was a child. Repeating the words in my mind.

Two black crows,

one fashioned in light,

Each with a name,

Called Hope and Spite,

The song's melody filled me. The song of the mortals chasing out my fear.

One with a soul as devious as Chaos,

And one with a heart as pure as Knight’s.

Both dark crows.

The transport stopped with a jolt that sent me sprawling onto the floor. No coherent thoughts entered my mind. And I made no move to rise, resting content on the floor.

A faint click sounded, and the doors of the transport swung open. I lifted my head and saw an estate similar to the Queen's palace.

Then I dragged myself to my feet, forcing my legs to remain sturdy beneath me, and turned away from the door. But as soon as I was steady, a strong hand grabbed my arm, pulling me out of the transport.

The figure stood above me. And they adjusted the hood of the dark cloak, the golden clasp engraved with a simple owl glinting in the moonlight. When the figure pulled it back, dark strands of hair fell in loose curls, brushing the tips of his ears, framing his sour, pale face.

The light bounced off his skin, giving him an ethereal aura. His eyes were nearly hidden in the shadow of his prominent brow, and I saw that they were the pale grey of morning dusk. They were sharp eyes that screamed of sorrow. And the look of disgust on his face no doubt matched mine.

“Get up,” he said in a way that seemed he might just throw me to the ground again. But, still, I stood, straightening my back and planting my feet.

Even on an incline, he was a full head taller than me and so much broader. I had no chance of beating him in a fight if I were to try to escape.

I mustered as much courage as I could, hardening my face against his glaring eyes. I did so, fully knowing that this man could take away my life as quickly as I could take the life of an ant.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice shaking. I wanted this all to be a bad dream, a terrible nightmare that would end as soon as I opened my eyes.

“My name doesn’t matter, only yours does,” he said with such power and contempt that I couldn’t help but shrink into myself.

A muscle flickered in his jaw, and I winced.

“You have taken me from my home, and all I ask of you is your name. Tell me.” Astounded at the amount of strength in my voice, I stepped back, studying him. The man’s eyes flashed and softened with something like pity. But for only a second, then they hardened into hatred and disgust once more.

“My name is unimportant because I'm an insignificant life. I am all but a speck in the expanse of the universe.”

I rolled my eyes at him, folding my arms in front of my chest. “Please stop being so dramatic. I only want to know your name.”

“No, I don’t think I’ll tell you.”

“Tell me your name,” I nearly screamed, my voice becoming hoarse with exhaustion. I placed my hands on my hips, shooting a glare up at him.

“It doesn’t matter.” The man’s words remained calm. And his face didn’t show any bit of what ran through his mind.

“I haven’t asked you for anything else,” I lowered my voice, my words trembling again. “What is your name?”

“I have already told you that it's unimportant. Yet,” he paused, sighing as he examined me from head to toe, “I pity you.” He gave me another look up and down. “My name is Elaric Vargur.”

“For the Queen's sake, that took a while. Why did you bring me here?’

“Now you’re asking questions that will provide you with valuable answers. I am going to train you to kill our Queen. Though some of your old training and experience should come back quickly.”

“What?” I breathed, my legs threatening to crumble beneath me.

“Come, follow me,” he turned to the estate and gestured for me to follow. I hesitated, my legs refusing to move beneath me.

“I will not kill the Queen,” I yelled at Elaric, his back still turned to me. “I just want to live a normal life. Please, just take me home.”

His cloak billowed around his towering body as he turned to me. His face was softer, somehow.

“Let me explain,” he reached out a hand and gestured for me to follow him again. “Please, come with me.”

“You will take me back to my home right now,” I dug my feet into the ground, holding my shoulders back.

“Just let me explain,” he repeated. He again waved for me to follow him toward the estate.

“Why did you bring me here?” I breathed. He turned back to me, his eyebrows raised and his hand clenched into a fist.

“I have already told you, I will train you to kill the Queen,” Elaric said with such casualty that I nearly dismissed his words.

“I want to go home. And I will not kill the Queen,” I repeated. My legs were still not moving. “Please, just take me home.”

“I already know who you are, and I will not be taking you back to your house. Just let me explain,” he turned again and headed away.

I hesitated for another moment before risking him attacking me again.

Elaric escorted me toward the house, and I couldn’t stop myself from gawking at the architecture. As curiosity ensnared my mind, I forgot where I was and who I was with, if only for a moment.

No other people wandered the property, no guards were at the entrance, and no servants rushed through the dark halls. The sight was surreal and dream-like, the imperfections like a story forgotten by humanity. A tale ready to be brought to life again.

As we entered the house, reality returned to me. And as it did, a wave of exhaustion rushed over my body, and I fell to my knees.

“Get up,” Elaric said, his voice void of all warmth. “Do not show your enemies any sign of weakness. It is the death of courage. And even feigned, courage is a lifeline.”

Using all my will power, I pulled myself to my feet, hardening my back once more. Slowly I turned to face Elaric, saying, “Weakness is not the death of courage. Weakness is the living evidence that we are still human, that I am still human. Even if so many of us have lost sight of what that means.”

Elaric closed his eyes and pursed his lips. He waited for a moment before shaking his head and continuing, “Showing weakness gives your enemies an advantage. So, even if you are terrified or exhausted or completely broken, never give them the pleasure of seeing you defeated.”

I dipped my chin, shutting my eyes for a second before looking back up at him. I locked my gaze to his, refusing to back down, it was a silent challenge—a challenge he wholly ignored as he walked into the entry room.

“Why would you choose me?” My timid words floated through the empty manor.

“The Queen is the only evil left in our world,” his words echoed loud in my ears. I slowly stalked after him, not daring to get too close. “You have been chosen and recognized as the only person who can complete this mission. A mission meant to restore humanity.”

“I’ve tried to live my life in peace. Why can’t you do it? If you’re qualified enough to train me, then you must be good enough to kill her yourself.”

“Oh, I could. But you’re a legend here, and I wanted to give you an opportunity for revenge.”

Legend.

“How do you know who I am? How did you find me?” My voice was meeker than it had been before.

“My parents fought against the Queen when she rampaged. I grew up with stories of The Renewal and its heroes,” Elaric stopped and turned to me. “You were among them.”

A renewed fury bubbled in my chest. A newfound rage for the Queen. And before I could convince myself otherwise, I said, “I’ll make my decision when I’m ready. But if I want out of this, will you allow me to go home?”

“Possibly,” he shrugged his shoulders, turning away from me again. “Now, let me show you to your rooms.”