Return to the Shadows

So, I am still writing.  I just keep forgetting to write up an update.  I'm managing around 2 pages every other day or so.  It's not a page a day really, but I am writing.  I'm trying to get more focused on it, but of course there's always some distraction.  I just need to try and focus instead of being lazy!  These pages aren't going to write themselves.

Anyway, here's a piece I wrote today!  Enjoy!

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Blackened pillars adorned with shimmering silver blades rose up into the air, anchoring the high black glass stained ceiling to the blackened marble floor.  Several more shimmering silver blades adorned the floor in various spots.  A soft blue light glistened from silver blade shaped sconces on the walls and some of the pillars.  It was not dark in the room, but the way the light bounced from blade to blade gave off a feeling of standing in pure darkness.

At a first glance it seemed there was no one in the room, but all along the room stood groups of men and women.  They were dressed in blacks, grays and green and browns.  It was the colors of the night, the colors of those who did not wish to be seen.  They murmured soft to one another.  Money or items exchanged hands.  Whispers of information were exchanged.  Even laughter murmured through the room.

The soft thumping followed by a distinctive click of boots quieted the room.  Head’s turned to see who was entering.  Here only someone who wished to be heard would make so much noise.  Every noise, every conversation stopped as eyes fell upon the cloaked figure that had entered.  No one moved, but the shock was clear in every expressions.

It wasn’t the distinctive clicking or thumping of his boots that gave his identity away.  It wasn’t the way he carried himself into the room.  Nor was it the way his black cloak fell over the right shoulder, leaving his left arm exposed.  No, they didn’t need to see his face to know who he was. 

It was the scar that gave away the man’s identity.  It wrapped around his left arm from palm to shoulder.  They adorned each wave of the whip-like scar were runes following every curve of the scar.  The runes shone with a bright blue and orange that appeared as if living flames were flickering up his arm.  No one had ever been able to discover the magic that was used to create the runes.  Nor had they been able to determine exactly what the runes did.  But this was how they knew him.

Maximus pushed back the hood of his cloak, shifting his gaze around the room.  The streaks that ran through his blackened hair were brighter, more red than normal.  His eyes were the same dazzling; deep blue that seemed to glow in the darkness.

He said nothing as he began to continue his stride to the door at the other side of the room.  No one stopped him and no one spoke until he had disappeared behind the large marble doors.  And then the whispers began.  Fear swept across the room.  This was bad.  And there was only one thing on everyone’s mind.

Havoc had returned.

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“So you’ve returned, have you?” said a woman’s voice from the shadows.

“It would seem I have.”  Max said.

“Why?” She asked.

It was hard to determine just where the woman stood as her voice seemed to come from every corner of the room.  He instinctively glanced around, searching for her.

“Why does anyone ever return to a past life?”

“I thought you had given it all up.”

“You can’t run from the past for forever.”  He said.

“No, you can’t.”  She said.

Silence fell.  The shadows of the room loomed over the pair.  It was a while until Max broke the silence.

“You helped me get that scholarship, didn’t you?”  He asked.

“Of course.”  She replied.

“Why?”

“Because I knew you’d make something of yourself one day.  And I was right.”

“I suppose I ought to thank you.”  He said.

She laughed, “Perhaps it should be I to thank you.”

He frowned, “Why?”

“You were my best informant on the street.  And you were my best Blade.  It was the least I could do when I found out what you desired most.”

“And what might that be?”

“Magic.  How is Teacher?”  She asked.

“Dead.”  He said.

“A pity, but a relief for you.  Now you don’t have to keep looking over your shoulder, waiting for him to find you.”

“I have other enemies.”

“Others, yes, but none who would dare openly challenge you, Havoc.”  She said.

He shook his head, “There will always be one who will want my head on a platter, Lady.”

“We live such interesting lives, always waiting for that dagger to pierce through our back.”

“Aye, but we’ll not let it keep us from living.”

“You need something, don’t you, Havoc?”  She asked.

“Is it that obvious?”  He asked.

“No, but I know you and I have heard rumors…doctor, healer, Priory’s best, professor and…noble.”   Her smirk came through her words.

He sighed, “Never thought I’d make it that far.  I only ever wanted to not have to wonder where my next meal would be.”

“And now you’ll never have to.”

“So it seems.”

“And someone is threatening to take that away, aren’t they?”  She asked.

“How did you know?”  He asked.

“You know I hear many things.  A lot of information reaches my ears.”

He nodded, “That’s true.  Yes, someone or several someone’s seek to take my happiness away, though it is not aimed at me.”

“Your…”  There was a pause, “…Wife?”

Maximus was quiet for a moment.  It was no use hiding anything from Lady, she always knew somehow.

“Yes.  I nearly lost her…”

“And nearly lost yourself.”

“How did you know?”  He asked.

“Havoc…I know you better than anyone else.  You never really attached to any other women.  You never had anything until I landed you that scholarship.  Even here you didn’t have much.  It was just a job for you.  And now you have a better life and a wife who loves you.”  She said.

“You’ve really been spying on me way too much.  Do you still have a crush on me?”  He smirked.

“What woman doesn’t?  You are…yummy.”

“And off limits now.”

She sighed pitifully, “That’s too bad.  I wouldn’t have minded another night with you.”

He chuckled and then turned more serious, “Where is he?”

She shrugged, “Dead.”

He sighed, “When?”

“A year after you left.  Someone didn’t want him to get out of his line of work.”

“He always knew how to find the worst trouble.”  Max sighed again.

“Yes and you couldn’t keep saving him.”  She said.

“Yes.  That’s all behind us now.  I have something more important.”

“Yes?”

“What do you know of a group that calls themselves the Six?”

She smiled, “Mmm.  I think you’ll have to ask Pyrs.”

“Pyrs?”  Max scowled.

“Yes,” She said, “Pyrs.  Your old pal.  Did I mention he’s the one who killed Quin?”

Max scowled, “Where is he?”

“There is an old oak tree in the Hills.  You might find something interesting there.”

“Thank you.”  Max started to turn, but a hand touched his shoulder, lips brushed against his ear.

“Be careful Havoc, I don’t want to lose you now I have you back.  Even if it’s not in the way I had hoped.”  She whispered and then drew back into the shadows.

He didn’t look back as he left the Black Halls.  There was work to be done.