Shadow of the Abyss

Chapter 148: Oathkeepers

Within the bailey of the Cathedral of Light, clammers of laughter fluttered through the open air free of the Hellish Rain that had plagued Forwin for the last eight months. Moonlight dripped over the Cathedral of Light, which shone a deep gold under its aimless rays, reflecting hundreds of carriages entering through the crystal lake moat onto the bailey.

Lords and ladies, merchants and scholars aplenty stepped down one after the other, enjoying the glow they'd nearly forgotten. The radiance had been stunning and more than welcoming.

"Goodness," Lady Erri professed, peering down at the lake. "How is it that despite eight months of that grotesque rain, the church's water is so clear? I can even see my reflection."

The noble guests all laughed. "They are the Church of the Sepith!" They'd say moving on. All except Lady Erri.

The others hadn't placed much thought into the matter, but it bothered her. These past eight months, the only source of water that was usable was the water given by the church. The rest were all tainted.

Amongst the commoners, stillborns had skyrocketed due to the black rain being the only source of drinking water. Deformities happened in droves, and sudden deaths were plentiful. All because of the rain. The only ones safe were those... who attended the congregation.

Erri herself had been forced to drink the black water for fear she'd die. Two months later, she was coughing up blood with an intense fever. 'Did the church have a method to purify the tainted water?' She wondered.

"Is that you, Erri?" Her uncle's voice call, humming across the lake's surface, warm and comforting.

"Grandpa!" Erri professed, spinning to meet the eyes that had seen countless decades. She grinned. "How's Grandmother? Is she with you?"

"That wench?!" Lord Verrell laughed and looked around as if to search for his wife. And to his relief, she wasn't around. "She's tough. Resilient like a donkey."

"I'm going to tell her what you said," Erri said with a mischievous grin.

Lord Verrell gave a booming laugh, pulling the girl into his chest. He held her firmly, smiling. "I'm glad you made it. Forwin is probably the safest place you can be. I heard you got stuck in Dorga."

"Terrible place, I tell you. The demons got in and..." Erri shuddered, remembering the screams and blood that turned her bones to water. "I'm just glad The Sword of the King arrived in time." She smiled then. "oh, and we came with an Oathkeeper."

Verrell tried not to make a face, but his lips betrayed him. "Those bastards that take the Oath of Justice." he groaned. "What would they want in Forwin?"

A gust of wind billowed over Erri's slender figure, treading her hair. Erri lifted her hands to block winds from disturbing her hair.

"Come inside." Verrell gestured. Erri hooked her arms through her grandfather's arm and followed after him. Through the bailey, they entered through the side chapel and traveled up the staircase into one of the towers, emerging into a large spire that overlooked all of Forwin that glowed a low hum of silver beneath the four moons.

The city looked breathtaking from on high. It didn't have much light, but the four moons had illuminated the shadows below, casting silhouettes far and wide. Forwin looked like a city of shadows from on high.

"Lord Commander!" The crisp voice of Walter Verrell called. "And do I spy little Erri! My! How've you grown?"

"Uncle Walt." Erri grinned beneath the old smile that seemed as cold as when she first saw it.

"Brother," Verrell joyed, clenching the iron palm of his elder brother. "So you were with the caravan. Lord Edwin or Erri said nothing."

"That's because we never met," Walter replied half-heartily. "Forty thousand men are a lot of people. It's little wonder we missed each other."

"And I was only with the Caravan for maybe four months," Erri conveyed, staring out at the many lords and ladies talking and laughing as if war was not on the other side of those walls. It was unnerving, she admitted to herself, unsure how they could be so blasé. They had all looked so terrified before, praying to the Seraphim of Sepith.

Walter seemed to notice the slight tilting of her lips but didn't speak on it. Erri would be twenty soon. It was best she saw these nobles for what they were.

"Well? Where is he?"

"Who?" Lord Verrell asked, spying on familiar and unfamiliar faces.

"Lord Blackwood."

The name alone returned Verrell's eyes to his brother, as grey and wrinkled as he was. Walter was a tall man. Tall and gaunt, far more than his younger brother, he seemed almost sickly, though his sharp black eyes told a different tale.

"Oh... I heard of him," Lady Erri mused, covering her mouth with a charming gleam in her eyes. "They say he is one of Forwin's greatest swordsmen despite being only in the Second Circle and is capable of besting even Tier Three Demons. I tried to look for him, but I was in the far rear of the caravan."

"And yet he calls himself a lord."

"Did you bow when you saw me?" Altair calmly fired back. "Did you prostrate yourself before me like a worm?"

An air of silence permeated the distant night like a spell. None spoke, none blinked, much less moved. Like a statue, they stood with widened eyes.

Even Savvas seemed bewildered, losing the words on the tip of his tongue. Altair continued. " We all come from different backgrounds, different cultures. I don't enforce my will upon you, so I expect you don't do the same. I'm sure you don't expect an elf to greet you the same as a human."

The Oathkeeper frowned, wanting to retort, wanting to strike out, but forced the retort back down his throat. Instead, he forced a smile and said, "Very wise. And due tell who were might you be from?"

"A question asked by gods and man alike," Altair told him, recalling the throne of Brimstone, which his father sat upon, surrounded by that baleful fire that shone emerald black light. He smiled but did not continue, though a flicker of light shone sacrilege through his eyes.

The Oathkeeper gleamed no falsehood from the boy, and yet he felt a vale of darkness shrouding him, obscuring his mind's eye.

"Altair, are you causing trouble?" A mighty laugh following the chimes of music resounded. Cedric Vandel approached with a charming grin over his half-cloak that bore the insignia of the silver dragon. He greeted the Oathkeeper with a smile and a half-bow before scanning the shadow of a grin over the prince.

"Cedric, how unexpected," Altair started, though his expression did not gleam surprise. "I hope you are enjoying yourself." he inspected the well-groom captain, who had recently cut his stubbed beard into a clean shave. Cedric seemed almost handsome if we weren't standing next to Altair.

"Absolutely," said Cedric gleefully, lifting his glass to his lips. "Fat Mike has even informed me that Reese, alongside twenty of ours, was found."

"Oh yes, I nearly killed him on sight," Altair said airely, as if he was speaking of walking his dog, startling everyone. He studied the startled look on Cedric's face and continued. "Well, it's only a matter of time before I toss his remains for the demons to have their way with." he almost laughed. "I might just toss him in alive just to watch what they do to him."

"Lord Blackwood, what you speak of is murder." The Oathkeeper said gravely.

"Then murder it is," Altair admitted.

Cedric's expression darkened. "Boy... this is no place for games."

"And did you think it a game when he ordered Reina killed and raped?" He looked down at Cedric, a head shorter, and sneered. "How easy it is to judge when you have nothing to lose or gain..." He glanced at the Oathkeeper's stoic expression. "Tell me, Oathkeeper, who is right and who is wrong? The one who orders a murder or the one who kills before they can be killed?"

A few eyes swayed to the Oathkeeper, pondering the question themselves: Was murder ever acceptable?

"There cannot be justice if there is no Order. Two wrongs don't make a right. What you ask sounds more like revenge than it does justice." The Oathkeeper answered though he felt like he had stepped into some unnamed trap.

'Spoken like a true arbiter,' Altair thought and said. "Then what's to be done? If two wrongs don't make a right, then what is my recourse? Lay down and allow what's mine to be taken? Kneel and beg, hoping that my foe might forgive?"

The Oathkeeper couldn't answer. It wasn't his place to dictate a person's action but judge it. Sometimes, there simply was no good side.

"Murder is Murder."

The answer Savvas gave sent the spire into a whirlwind of whispers he could do nothing about. Nothing but stare at the Young Man before him. 'He was dangerous,' he thought, closing his aged eyes.

"Yes. Murder is indeed murder." Altair agreed, looking Cedric in the eye. "And for his sin, he'll pay for what he did. After all... he is the reason we are all here."

"Enough," Cedric said hard. "I won't let that happen."

"You brought it up," Altair informed him. "I'm merely stating what I'll do. Though, I do wonder how you'll stop me. It's not like you can protect Reese day in and day out. Especially when he was the cause of that horrid explosion."

"There is no proof of that."

"My eyes are the poof."

Angerly, Cedric tried to keep his voice low. "That's not enough," He said in a low grumble. 'And it's not for you to dictate such recourse. Military law—"

"In case you haven't realized it." Altair cut in, his voice like a winter breeze. "I don't give two shits. Reese Throvel is dead. Him and everyone he sides with."