The man with the silver hair and black-metallic hood stood in front of three dead bodies. He panted for a while. His sword was still ready in his hand but there was no one to battle with. Three dead figures lay in front of him like the pigs in butcher shop. The cool breeze had suddenly changed it's way and now carried the atmosphere of utter terror. There was a gush of wind behind him and a pat on his back. The hand which patted was skinny. Only bones, maybe. The skin and muscles were dried but still it carried life. The pat lasted a bit longer and then the hissing voice took its place.
'Well done, my boy.' The voice hissed and the surrounding became cold. The man with the black-metallic hood just steered his gaze from the second body to the third one without giving even a speck of interest to the cold hissing voice. The voice hissed again and the owner came forward. His black robes, still floating in the air, were misty. They looked like emerging and disappearing on their own. The owner was still behind the veil. He looked as if darkness was emerging from his core. His body was nothing but a floating smoke hidden behind the darkness of his robes. The only past visible was his bony hand. The hand looked as if just given a thin layer or rotten skin on a bony structure. The fingernails were almost an inch long. There was a ring in his hand. Which, Royd knew, hand a long story.
He raised his hand. The same bony one which had patted the back. Purple flames arose from it vanishing the three bodies in the air. They first crumbled to dust and then vanished like a thin smoke. The man with bony hand turned to the assassin. The assassin bent down and kissed his bony hand.
'I did as master said. Everything up to as been planned by master. Everything was destroyed. But there is one flaw which never should have happened. It was a mistake and I know master will kindly forgive me for it.' The man with the black metallic hood said. He bent on his knees to show respect. The voice hissed again as him allowing him to continue with the news.
'I killed everyone. But somehow they knew that I was coming. They tried their best to defend but I was more over them. The big man tried to stop me but he failed. The woman shot flames but I gave past them all. But master-' The metallic voice was interrupted.
'But what, Royd. You ought to have done the whole operation successfully.' The voice gave him an hiss which shuddered him to the core. Royd fought for words. It seemed like he was stuck with it.
'The boy escaped, master. Someone took him. I don't know how. I tried my best to search. I killed every last member of their species but somehow it seem that the boy is still alive. Not to worry master, I will find him. I will do as told. This mistake will never take place again.' Royd said as if he had figured this speech deep inside his brain much long ago.
'Indeed. This won't happen again.' The voice hissed and their was a chilling silence. The man with the bony hand walked a few steps to the place where the bodies had been a bit time ago. He scanned the surrounding. there was no one except the two of them. The night was slowly taking the time under its arms and the darkness was rising like a speeding horse. The man with the bony hand just stared silently in the air. Royd, on the other hand, got up and sheathed his sword.
'Did you get the locket from them?' the voice hissed.
'I did.' Royd said and tucked his hand in his metallic armour to bring out the locket. The man with bony hand extended his hand and Royd placed the locket carefully in it. The locket was nothing more than a thick string carrying a pendent of a sword. The pendent was much bigger than it should have been. There was a thin line running through the sword as if it needed opening. The silver string looked much older. The locket belonged to someone who lived ages ago. Maybe ages was just a small word. But the locket still had its power. The man with the bony hand could feel it. A power whcih was asleep and needed most powerful awakening.
'You let the boy escape but you brought me the locket. All right. You may go.' The voice hissed.
Royd turned to go. He picket up his fallen sword. But it was just a split second mistake that he bent down. Suddenly a sharp pain rang through his chest like a molten iron. He clutched his chest tightly. He fought for breath. He felt like his throat is being clutched and crushed simultaneously. His sword fell again from his hand with a thump on ground. His body began to shrink. His metallic amour began to close upon him like a squeezing python. He felt nauseous. His hands began to turn thinner and thinner as if all the muscles were evaporating from it. His body, no longer his own, began to melt and them finally crumble to dust..
'You should not have let the boy escape.' The voice hissed.
Royd fell forward, still melting and crumbling like ashes from a burned wood. He felt immense pain and finally it was over with a deadly scream.
'You were very loyal to me, Royd. And that is why your death was not much painful.' The voice hissed. The man with the bony hand held the locket up to his eye and kissed it. There was silver spark behind him and the dust of Royd's body vanished in the air. The man with the bony hand kept the locket in his pocket. He raised his hand again and two more wizards came of of thin air.
'What is it, master?' The one named Aeosus asked. The man with the bony hand stayed still as if configuring for more danger but there was none. He patted his pocket once more and turned to the one named Markus.
'The boy escaped. Royd was not able to get hold of him within time. He reaped what he sowed. Now it's your responsibility to find that boy.' The voice hissed.
'We will find him and kill him instantly.' Markus said.
'No, my boy. There is a slight change. You have to bring the boy to me. Let me do that noble work.' The voice hissed.
'Allright, master. We will leave now.' Aeosus said. They both were vanished within thin air. The man with the bony hand removed his hood and took a deep breath. A small tear rolled down his cheek. He again took a deep breath.
'At last.' He said and was gone with a flash of white light.
Thirty miles away from the murder scene, a man ran which his full might. The wood around him were getting darker and darker and denser and denser. But still he ran. There were tree thorns cutting deep in his skin as he was passing by. He legs felt heavy. There were deep cuts on his foot as he ran barefoot on the sharped stones and crushing pebbles. His arms were feeling weak from carrying the weight. He lifted the baby close to his chest. He could still feel his heart vibrating inside his chest. The meter of fear rising. He quickly took a sharp turn and ran more deeper into the woods. Even though it was forbidden from anyone to enter The Wicked Woods, he ran. He didn't wanted to save himself. He wanted to save the baby.
He could still hear the grunting noises behind him. He could still hear the branches of trees ruffling behind him as if someone was cutting through them and was making its way. He could hear the swooshing wind behind him but still he ran with his full might. Not even caring about where he was heading. He just ran straight through the obstacles. Not even caring that there were much more on his way.
He came to halt. There was a thin stream flowing in from of him. Everything seemed to be calm. The voices behind him were long gone. The water was slowly paving its way through the cut rocks. The water slowly danced on the pebbles and teased the grass as it ran. Everything seemed to be cool. But wasn't.
The man scanned the environment around him. There was nothing except silence. The night had taken everything under control. The new moon day was giving its bright mark as the darkness spread over a large area, making everything invisible. But still, he sensed, there was someone far away from him keeping watch on him. He could sense it. He had this ability. It was in his genes, which were no longer alive. He glanced at the baby in his hand. And then he took steps forward. He stopped at the river deadline.
'You are a brave hero. Finish what you have started.' The said and bent down. The stream made a whirlpool, waiting for the man. The man dropped the baby in it. He murmured something as if chanting a long mantra. And then the whirlpool was gone. And so was the baby.
He turned around and vanished into thin air.