Shilon

“All is silent at Fort Watermane, Lord Min. The Duke of Farwhile, along with his four sons, is dead. And among the silent corpses of his men lies several members of the Jerican, all with personally sealed orders from King Bartholomew to purge the fort.” Shilon stood, clad in black stealth-ware, leading eight other equally clad assassins.

High Priest Min, a short old man with a scarred and disfigured face stood high above Shilon atop a ruin of a stone tower. It was a cold morning. Thick white plumes of air puffed out from under Min’s hood. “Good Shilon, very good. Another one of my shadows confirmed your deed and remarked at the beauty of all life in the fort silently, and peacefully ceasing… Though the result of such life being lost will no doubt stir confusion among the kingdom of Ashernon. They will see this attack as an excuse to liberate the oppressed people under King Bartholomew. You and the other shadows may now depart to West Port for…”

Shilon’s countenance changed quickly. “ I won’t be performing anymore of your hell administered tasks until you give me word from Chaniel.” Multiply blood vessels in Shilon’s eyes burst as his frame began to shake with anger. Min stood silently puffing the cold morning air, then burst into a cackle. Shilon drew his dark crossbow from a sling across his back. He held the crossbow facing Min. Several shadows turned and drew their swords preparing to strike the vulnerable Shilon. He screamed, “Give me word old troll or I’ll send you to your peace soon.”

Min’s cackle ceased, though his tone reflected a hint of humor. “Put your weapons away my children, and you boy… put down that toy. I guarantee that the only one you will be hurting is yourself.” The shadows sheathed their swords and Shilon loosened his grip on his crossbow and lowered it to his hip. Min continued mockingly, “ For your efforts, Shilon Thrisfalen, I will give you the next message from your tender, precious Chaniel… ‘It is a boy.’” Shilon lowered his gaze and dazed into the woods, processing this information. “That is all I have to tell you until you fulfill your assignment. Are you pacified now, my humble hound?” Shilon nodded his head. Min’s voice changed to a more serious tone, “Good. Our falconer has received a message for you and your shadows to go to West Port. There you will assist High Priest Haley in a very important task that I will not utter here.”

Shilon moved his eyes back up to Min’s and swung his crossbow across his back. The tenseness that had consumed his body was gone. He stood as a machine, indifferent, passive, cold. “We will leave immediately to West Port, Lord Min.” Shilon and the shadows turned from the ruin and began to head into the forest.

“Wait a moment, Shilon. There is something else I need to tell you alone.” Shilon ordered his men to continue. Min spoke softly. “I imagine you are familiar with the young monk William of Peace and Harmony?”

Shilon began to tremble again. “Yes, he is the only one living that I hate more than you.”

Min smiled. “Why do you hate him Shilon Thrisfalen?”

Shilon’s voice cracked as he answered Min’s question. “Because I once loved him, and in return he trapped me and my Chaniel in this hell.”

Min let out a laugh. “Well then it will be in your great interest to hear that he is dead.”

Shilon stood dumbfounded for several seconds. He tried to control his emotions, but a small tear forced its way down his quivering cheeks. Contradicting emontions pulsed through his blood with every heart beat. “How did he die?”

“It’s funny that he betrayed you and then his own fellow monks betrayed him. I thought we were the ones who where to create madness, but it would appear that the little innocent monks of peace and harmony have some cold blood in their midst. Rumor has it that previous to his death he singlehandedly slew countless soldiers and thwarted an attack of nearly five-thousand men. But the punch line of all this is that he died in his sleep.” Min looked down on Shilon’s countenance with such satisfaction.

Shilon continued to drill Min, “Do you know who did this?”

“As a matter of fact I do. I can give you multiple names. And the best part about this is that I don’t like these names anymore, so feel free to blot them out.”

Shilon’s eyes glowed red. “Give me the names, and I will see to it that these monks do not live to breath tomorrow.”

Min began to laugh hysterically, like a boy who has taught his dog a new trick. His tattered face turned red from laughter. He paused to answer Shilon’s question. “Find Master Leon, he will squeal every name you need… Oh and be sure that you tell him who you represent. Yes, that will be fine.”Shilon turned and sprinted in the direction of the monastery. Min screamed after him, “Don’t forget about West Port when you’re done.”

(Not one of my best posts but I thought I'd throw in my sherbet twist.)