Chapter 9 - Revenge
Submitted November 8, 2003 Updated November 8, 2003 Status Incomplete | I dedicate this story to Eunice Vun, my friend and part-time editor, who inspired and helped me with ideas when I was stuck. Thanks a whole heap Eunice! Oh yes, and also Mr Gavin Marshall, known as Mr M, for pushing me to my greatest extent with word
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Miscellaneous » Writing |
Chapter 9 - Revenge
Chapter 9 - Revenge
They sat in Sahra’s room, and she told Rayne how she had come to be in the service of the castle.
“…After you left to find a healer, I waited for you to come back, but you didn’t, so, I went to find work. No one wanted a 12 year old for working, so I came to Tavares, where I asked an old maid if she knew where workers were wanted. She directed me to the castle, and I began my work as a scullery maid…” she trailed off, looking at the setting sun.
“It is time,” Sahra said, and with that, both departed, heading towards the throne room.
“Sahra, do you still have your power?” Rayne asked, pausing by the kitchen door, picking up her newly bladed staff.
“I have been having secret lessons with the Master Defense up at the college,” she said grimly.
Rayne raised an eyebrow.
“Perhaps another time,” she said, grinning. “Let us see how well you have listened,” and they both set off at a steady walk, their eyes intent on finding the King and Tristan.
* * *
As they came close to each set of doors leading to the room, Sahra, out of excitement and anger, blasted them, leaving them burnt and swinging limply on their hinges.
The splendour of the room had long ago worn off, and it wasn’t worth reminding themselves of what they set out to destroy.
They reached the last set of doors.
“Will you do the honours, Sahra?” Rayne asked.
“I most certainly will…”
* * *
Fire engulfed the doors as Sahra let a fireball loose.
Rayne and Sahra walked through the flames, a shield of red magic protecting them from the embers.
“Sorry about that,” Rayne said, forcing herself to be calm at the sight of Tristan and Rowan.
“Ah, I see you are well Rayne?” Tristan spat at her.
“Very well Tristan, no thanks to you,” she replied with distaste.
Rowan was sidling towards the door, unnoticed by Rayne. He was thrown forward in front of her by a blast of Sahra’s magic. He yelped as he landed, blood gushing from his nose.
“How dare you…” he hissed at her, glittering black magic drawing around his fingers.
“How dare I, King Rowan? I dare to kill a traitor to the crown. That’s what I dare to do. I dare to avenge Xavier. I dare to kill a spineless mage, who would be nothing without the essence of fear he creates,” she spoke these words with such hatred that Tristan and Rowan flinched.
“And I, dear Rayne, dare to kill you,” he lunged at her, black magic engulfing the two.
Tristan shouted in alarm, firing his own magic at the covered figure of Rayne.
Rowan’s magic wavered, creating a hole in the sheet of black.
Before Tristan could let loose another bolt of magic, Sahra fired her last ball of magic, and true as her heart, it hit the centre of Rowan’s back.
His screams were cut short as Rayne stabbed him hard with her staff.
She struggled out of the black magic, narrowly missing a bolt from Tristan.
She searched for Sahra, her eyes resting on her still body.
“No more magic to protect you, dear Rayne,” Tristan hissed.
“No more magic left in you, dear Tristan,” Rayne hissed back.
“It’s just you and I then, all alone, no one to help you.”
“Only two people can leave this room alive, and I am predicting that you won’t be one of them,” she sneered, glaring at him.
“Ah Rayne, how wrong you are. Only one person will leave this room alive. The first and second will both lay dead. I have decided that you will join your sister…”
Rayne’s eyes widened with shock at the possibility.
Tristan took his chance at Rayne’s hesitation, and threw his last ounce of power at her, a huge bolt of lightning, like the one from the tavern roof, striking her.
The room started to swim before her eyes, this was her last chance!
She took as best an aim as she could at the laughing Tristan, and threw her staff.
Blackness took over her as a scream echoed through Tavares.
* * *
Rayne woke in a soft bed, her head fuzzy and sore, extreme pain in her back and leg.
“Lay still, sister,” Sahra’s face came into view, her pale skin bruised blue, black and purple.
“Sahra, you’re alive…” she mumbled.
“Shhhhh, be still Rayne. Sleep…” Sahra said soothingly.
The darkness of sleep filled her head and she was at peace in her dreams.
* * *
“…After you left to find a healer, I waited for you to come back, but you didn’t, so, I went to find work. No one wanted a 12 year old for working, so I came to Tavares, where I asked an old maid if she knew where workers were wanted. She directed me to the castle, and I began my work as a scullery maid…” she trailed off, looking at the setting sun.
“It is time,” Sahra said, and with that, both departed, heading towards the throne room.
“Sahra, do you still have your power?” Rayne asked, pausing by the kitchen door, picking up her newly bladed staff.
“I have been having secret lessons with the Master Defense up at the college,” she said grimly.
Rayne raised an eyebrow.
“Perhaps another time,” she said, grinning. “Let us see how well you have listened,” and they both set off at a steady walk, their eyes intent on finding the King and Tristan.
* * *
As they came close to each set of doors leading to the room, Sahra, out of excitement and anger, blasted them, leaving them burnt and swinging limply on their hinges.
The splendour of the room had long ago worn off, and it wasn’t worth reminding themselves of what they set out to destroy.
They reached the last set of doors.
“Will you do the honours, Sahra?” Rayne asked.
“I most certainly will…”
* * *
Fire engulfed the doors as Sahra let a fireball loose.
Rayne and Sahra walked through the flames, a shield of red magic protecting them from the embers.
“Sorry about that,” Rayne said, forcing herself to be calm at the sight of Tristan and Rowan.
“Ah, I see you are well Rayne?” Tristan spat at her.
“Very well Tristan, no thanks to you,” she replied with distaste.
Rowan was sidling towards the door, unnoticed by Rayne. He was thrown forward in front of her by a blast of Sahra’s magic. He yelped as he landed, blood gushing from his nose.
“How dare you…” he hissed at her, glittering black magic drawing around his fingers.
“How dare I, King Rowan? I dare to kill a traitor to the crown. That’s what I dare to do. I dare to avenge Xavier. I dare to kill a spineless mage, who would be nothing without the essence of fear he creates,” she spoke these words with such hatred that Tristan and Rowan flinched.
“And I, dear Rayne, dare to kill you,” he lunged at her, black magic engulfing the two.
Tristan shouted in alarm, firing his own magic at the covered figure of Rayne.
Rowan’s magic wavered, creating a hole in the sheet of black.
Before Tristan could let loose another bolt of magic, Sahra fired her last ball of magic, and true as her heart, it hit the centre of Rowan’s back.
His screams were cut short as Rayne stabbed him hard with her staff.
She struggled out of the black magic, narrowly missing a bolt from Tristan.
She searched for Sahra, her eyes resting on her still body.
“No more magic to protect you, dear Rayne,” Tristan hissed.
“No more magic left in you, dear Tristan,” Rayne hissed back.
“It’s just you and I then, all alone, no one to help you.”
“Only two people can leave this room alive, and I am predicting that you won’t be one of them,” she sneered, glaring at him.
“Ah Rayne, how wrong you are. Only one person will leave this room alive. The first and second will both lay dead. I have decided that you will join your sister…”
Rayne’s eyes widened with shock at the possibility.
Tristan took his chance at Rayne’s hesitation, and threw his last ounce of power at her, a huge bolt of lightning, like the one from the tavern roof, striking her.
The room started to swim before her eyes, this was her last chance!
She took as best an aim as she could at the laughing Tristan, and threw her staff.
Blackness took over her as a scream echoed through Tavares.
* * *
Rayne woke in a soft bed, her head fuzzy and sore, extreme pain in her back and leg.
“Lay still, sister,” Sahra’s face came into view, her pale skin bruised blue, black and purple.
“Sahra, you’re alive…” she mumbled.
“Shhhhh, be still Rayne. Sleep…” Sahra said soothingly.
The darkness of sleep filled her head and she was at peace in her dreams.
* * *
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