The Story Teller's Debate

Chapter IV: Fire and ice."Bah!" The Lord Corbal spat in disgust. "He commands me, does he?"The lonely wind didn't answer. "Well I didn't exile myself frun Un'bridge-Laye for all these years, just to serve another king!" He whispered angrily to himself. "I'll show him. I'm not afraid of the old ice sculpture." He muttered quietly, for fear Bryan might actually hear his words.The 'Ice Sculpture' didn't hear the mutterings of the ex-lord, but another did..."Sir." The brawny soldier rarely addressed him with anything other than that term. Not that Bryan minded... it was a title which implied submission and reverance. Bryan relished the feeling of power."Yes, Baron? Speak quickly." Bryan laid down his sword and turned to face his luitenant. He had been training all morning, and Baron knew he wasn't to be interrupted. This interruption had better be good.The second-in-command nodded slightly and continued. "The Lord Corbal (The title was stated with as much sarcasm as was possible to use.) believes he is not your lesser. He grows tired of your command."Bryan raised an eyebrow. At one time in his career, he was a brash young man. He would've had such a man under his command flogged, beaten, and then executed. His instinctual reaction was to go back to old habits... but he came to a different decision. Because he was no longer a brash young man at all. He was a (if Corbal was to be believed) 750 something year old man, with the wisdom of many centuries beyond what any mortal man could ever desire, but with the body of his 24 year old former self. After all, ice freezes only the body in time, not the mind."Let him stew a bit. We may still have use of him." Bryan stated after a few more seconds of deliberation. "Also, send Chris and Vance to the mountains one more time. I want to be sure of our information. As my father, the carpenter, would say, 'measure twice, so you only have to cut once.'""Yes sir." Baron inclined his head at him once more, and promptly left his presence.Bryan picked up his sword once more, and began letting the memories of past warfare burn in his mind."Jon! Where are you?" Eric had been searching frantically for him for the past 15 minutes without luck. He was furiously scanning the drunken crowds for any sign of the young farmer when he noticed a door, out of plain sight, slightly ajar. He could barely make out strange sounds eminating from chamber, and quickly leaped towards it.Pausing slightly to swallow is fear before going inside, he opened the door the rest if the way. Inside was... water? With a sudden shock, Eric realized the liquid was pouring from a portrait on the far wall. With even greater surprise, he saw that Jon was inside said portrait."This has to be the Order's doing..." He moaned to himself. While many in the city of Un'bridge-Laye revered them still, even if only in legend and myth, Eric knew that the Order was not a group to consider an ally. They did what pleased them, and what kept them safe. It just so happened that those who they used to protect them were often grateful for the protection. As for those who would rise against them...But it was all an illusion, anyways... the whole rebellion. Pointless."... down falls the Morthling" came the whisper. Eric shuddered. There was so much force in that voice.... it... it couldn't be....Eric, shaking with trepidation, began to move into the painting. Maybe this was a trap set up by those he had once rebelled against. But his curiosity got the better of him. And if it really was what he thought it was, then this would be worth any price he had to pay."Sir." Baron addressed him from behind once more.Bryan spun around quickly, anxious for some news. "Yes?" He asked, blades practically visible in his eyes, daring his luitenant to tell him anything but the news he so desperately sought."Two pieces of information." Baron, had he been capable, probably would've grinned devilishly at the sight of his commander's right eyebrow shooting up inquisitively. But all of Byran's men were beyond smiling. There was nothing to smile about until the world was in flames once more.Baron continued his report. "First, Michael brings word back from the city. He informs us that they are all intoxicated, and far capable from posing any threat of resistance.""Acknowledged." Bryan nodded ever so slightly. This was the highest praise he gave out. Success wasn't something to be congratulated. It was expected. It was understood. "And second?""Chris and Vance have returned." Baron stated emotionlessly. "They reassure you that what they saw earlier was true."Bryan was wickedly elated inside. "So the Order is, in fact, right where we want them?""Yes sir.""Then there's no time to waste. Execute the plan, now.""As you command, sir." Baron respectfully exited his presence.Bryan stood for a second to breathe in the warm breeze that floated by. The warmth of the sun was still very pleasing to his skin, and he enjoyed it immensely. But a stronger fire burned within, and the thought of tending to the flame, and allowing it to rise into the blazing inferno it would be, gave him more pleasure and warmth than any of the sun's rays ever could."Down falls the exile, down falls the Morthling" "Out spreads the fire, up goes the morning" "Now ends the slumber, the Knight drops his armour""Now the towers crumble, and down goes the Farmer"The words had effectively captivated Eric. His worst fears were coming true, but he was blinded by his own amazement. This was no trap set up by the Order at all... Before him and Jon stood the great Beast. The Beast was a creature of old, a.... sentient animal if you will... full of knowledge of the future. No record had ever beem found of it's origin, nor how it had acquired its gift of prophesy. And never, in all his life, would Eric think he'd be in the presence of such a magnificent being.But the Beast was never wrong... and, while it was generally known to be foolish to try and decipher a prophesy... this one seemed plain as day. "Down falls the Morthling""Why... when he says that... does he look at you?" Jon's shaky voice interrupted Eric's musings.Eric sighed. It was about time the young farmer had learned the truth anyways. Eric turned and stared his new friend directly in the eyes. His look carried so much intensity, quite a contrast to the timid boy that Jon was surely used to, that the farmed stumbled backwards."I am Eric Price. I am over seven hundred years old. I am a wizard... and I'm the last of the Morthlings..." He stated with as much calm in his voice as he could feign. His heart raced at his own betrayal of his very volatile identity. The Order certainly didn't keep a close grip on things in the city, but there was no doubt that anyone who associated with the rebel wizard group was at high risk... and posed a high risk to those who associated with them.Jon, dumbfounded, couldn't mustered the words he needed, and was obviously trying to regain his wits. Finally he began to mutter something that sounded like "Eric.... wizard... magic... friend... what?" But they were interrupted when they realized that their painted magical world began to burn down all around them.The young men locked eyes. Fire. They both darted out of the painting as quick as they could, leaving the Beast to continue his methodical chanting of the prophesy which Eric knew had sealed his fate.Bryan wasn't sure which he loved more... the screams, or the blood.A shriek ripped through the city. The source was a young woman, quite attractive, who was holding a dying man in her arms. Tears streamed down her face like a torrential rainstorm, and the flames which consumed the city were reflected in her watery eyes as she spotted Bryan."YOU!" She screamed with as much contempt as could be placed in one word. She began to run directly at the general, much to his amusement, and he stepped to the side so as to dodge her with ease.But he was not so lucky."Ow, you slimy little-" His words were cut off by a fistful of fingers grabbing the inside of his mouth as the young woman scrambled to climb on top of him. He bucked her off of his back and back onto the street, but she was up in seconds, with a rock in hand."Whoa, there." Bryan dodged the projectile as it narrowly missed his eye. "I don't believe that's very wise. I've liberated your city."The young woman stopped with her arm still preparing to throw the next stone. She was visibly shaking with rage and sorrow. Bryan thought this peculiar, since most of the fools who lived here hated the aristocracy. But not so with this little wench."That... was my... father. You son of a-" But now it was Bryan's turn to stop her mid-sentence. With a quick extension of the arm, the warrior's mighty fist crashed down on the young Princess' face. She was aristocracy, too. She would have to go. It was a pity, really, if for no other reason than the loss of a potentially skilled soldier."Baron, bring her with me. We need her for show and tell.""We can't go any higher!" Eric heard Jon shout behind him. They were high in one of Un'Bridge-Laye's mighty towers. While this may have seemed like a foolish strategy (to go inside and up a building during a fire) to any outsider, Jon had assured him that the towers were preserved by some sort of magic, and they would not fall nor burn. Eric had decided to believe him.Something caught the young wizard's eye down below. "Jon! Hurry up! It seems like you'd wanna see this.""My new people!" A familiar looking man addressed the masses, obviously finishing a speech. "I know you don't particularly wish to subject yourselves to a new ruler so soon. That is understandable. However... you must understand that, as much as I'm sure you'll appreciate my reign, you don't have a choice." With that, the man lit a signal fire... and another rose in response... and the chain went on and on...And suddenly, without warning, the tower began to shake.