Book Three: Part 1 The Dusk of Hope. Sean Wolfe Fay

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СКАЧАТЬ trying to ignore the boiling feeling in his stomach. He knew that, as abhorrent as the massacre outside his window was, he would have to ignore it for the time being, however painful it may be for him. He was about to thank Olea for all that she had done for him when suddenly a sharp knock came from below.

      Stan and Olea held each other’s glance for an instant. Then Olea, an unnerved look on her face, hissed “Hide!” under her breath as she walked over to the stairwell, clearly trying to remain calm. Stan, meanwhile, felt his heart skip a beat as he clutched DZ’s sword and ducked into the closet, closing the door quickly yet silently behind him.

      The closet was tiny, with barely enough room for Stan to stand in. He was surrounded by chests, stacked wall-to-ceiling, on all sides. Stan spun around to face the door, feeling incredibly claustrophobic in addition to his terror of whatever had come knocking at the door. Stan tried to calm his frantic breathing so that he could hear the voices arguing downstairs.

      “Whaddaya want?” Olea’s brutal voice demanded.

      “We’re looking for President Stan,” a second voice replied aggressively. “We got a tip that he might be hiding out in here.”

      Stan nearly gave a squeal of panic, but managed to suppress it. How did anybody know that he was here? He had made sure he wasn’t followed!

      “Well, whoever told you that was a no-good liar!” retorted Olea, her voice confident and bearing no hint that she was misleading them. “I know better than to risk my life by protectin’ that fugitive, even against you cretins.”

      “Well, then how do you explain the fact that your neighbour saw two heads looking out your window? We know that you live alone.”

      “Who told you somethin’ as ridiculous as that?” Olea inquired, sounding outraged, as a fist of ice clenched Stan’s heart. “And how do you know that I live alone?”

      “Well, let’s just say that if your best friend’s house is engulfed in flames, and you’re talking to a man with a fire charge in his hand, you’re willing to hand over information a bit easier.”

      “You are the lowest of the low…” seethed Olea. Stan could envision the almost inhuman snarl of disgust on her face.

      “Oh, how wrong you are, little girl.” The guard snickered. “If you want to see the lowest of the low, just take a look at who your good friend President Stan has pledged his life to defending. Come on, search the house.”

      “Whaddaya think you’re doing?” shouted Olea, and Stan could hear the scuffle downstairs as the soldiers ransacked her shop. “If you don’t stop right now, I will kill you!”

      “He’s not here,” the second voice grunted. “Search upstairs.”

      “Stop that right now!” bellowed Olea, as Stan heard the clomping of footsteps growing rapidly louder. “This is breakin’ and enterin’! What are you… this is my bedroom! I demand that you leave right now! What the…? Oh, no, don’t you dare open that…”

      Stan was prepared. Just as the wooden door in front of him was flung open, flooding his eyes with light, Stan surged forward with a battle cry, thrusting DZ’s sword forwards and directly into the stomach of the soldier. The Greater Tribesman gave a yell of anguish as the diamond sword tore through his grey leather armour and came out his back.

      Olea whipped out a diamond sword of her own and slashed into the soldier nearest her as the Knockback enchantment on DZ’s sword took effect, sending Stan’s soldier flying across the room and into the wood-plank wall, his items bursting into a ring around him as he landed. Olea quickly gained the upper hand on the second soldier as the third and final soldier in the room rushed into Stan.

      Stan was able to repel the soldier reasonably well, countering the blows and jabs of his opponent, but Stan’s skill with a sword was only rudimentary, and he found himself unable to connect a blow of his own. One well-placed hit later, and Stan found DZ’s diamond sword spiralling across the attic and landing in a corner with a clattering sound. Stan frantically dived to avoid the following strike from the soldier’s iron sword and landed flat on his face. He rolled onto his back and tried to scuttle over and retrieve his sword.

      Right as he reached the weapon, the soldier was upon him, leaving no time to arm himself. The soldier’s sword didn’t hit, however. Before the soldier could deliver a blow, two diamond swords poked point-first out of his stomach, and the soldier collapsed at Stan’s feet, a ring of items bursting from around him. Stan looked up and saw Olea, pulling her two swords out of the soldier’s back and latching them onto her hips.

      “You OK?” Olea asked, not breathing heavily in the slightest as she reached a hand down to pull Stan to his feet.

      “Yeah, I’m fine,” Stan panted in response. He was too shell-shocked to think and just grasped Olea’s hand and let her pull him to his feet.

      “I swear… when I find out which of those disgustin’ vermin ratted us out…,” hissed Olea under her breath, but she stopped when she noticed Stan. He was staring at the floor, where the items of one of the three dead players lay—namely, the player who had died at Stan’s hand. He stared, almost uncomprehendingly, at those items.

      Stan found himself unable to speak. For the first time in his life, Stan2012 had killed another player.

      “Hey, don’t dwell on it,” Olea said, walking up beside Stan and turning her blocky head to face him. “You didn’t have a choice. It was either him or you.”

      Stan sighed. “Yeah, I know,” he replied, his voice sounding almost meek. “It’s just…”

      “Just nothin’,” Olea replied firmly. “It had to be done, and you know it, so it’s not worth thinkin’ about no more. You can’t waste no more time, Stan.”

      “Yeah, you’re right,” Stan said, looking at Olea and a bit disturbed with himself as he found that, despite the fact that he had just ended another life for the first time since he had joined Elementia, he was able to put the conflict within him aside relatively easily. “OK, I’ll head out now.”

      “Good,” Olea replied, “You can slip out the back door.”

      Stan grabbed his sword, took a deep breath, and marched downstairs. Stan was totally floored to see the complete devastation of the shop that the soldiers had managed in just a few seconds. It looked like they had checked around the few pieces of furniture in the most destructive way possible.

      Various picture frames sat on the floor, which was sprinkled with shattered glass from the busted-out windows. The glass dust was twinkling with radiant red light, and Stan looked out at the blaze now engulfing the city. The fire was spreading to the houses of the other citizens as well, and the streets were flooded with people desperately trying to extinguish the fires and protect their livelihoods from being lost in the inferno.

      Stan could hardly take in what he was seeing. He remembered, just days ago, when he had stood in the centre of this great city, on tour with a guide named Danny, and was blown away by the brilliant displays of lights and lively players bustling through the streets like blood through the veins of a magnificent living being. At the rate the flames were spreading, the city would all be gone by morning.

      What Stan did next was without thinking. It was without logic. It was without any form of common sense whatsoever. Stan burst out of the front door of Olea’s shop and into the streets. СКАЧАТЬ