Chapter 19 The Blackwood Tomb #3
“They are corrupt,” his reflection snarled.
“King Valienthe sends his rivals’ heirs into the pit, destroying any noble bloodline he wishes.
Every time the Daemon King respawns, Luminary men and women are forced into the military, forced to endure the horrors of the Abyss, while the Valienthe family and all of their friends sit safely behind the throne.
I will not stand for it any longer. You are a coward if you support this regime.
At the king’s command, you brainwash new recruits at Firehelm Fortress, convincing children to throw away their lives for an impossible cause.
Why? The Daemon King is never defeated; it only respawns!
Do you really think King Valienthe doesn’t know how to kill it for good?
His family has been sitting on the secret for generations! ”
“That’s a lie!” Elias snarled.
His shadow laughed mockingly. “I won’t let them send more innocents to their death. I will force the Valienthe family to reveal their secrets. Peace shall be restored to the Kingdom of Forsynthia once and for all—then we shall see who is the true Hero of the Realm!”
“You’re insane. The Valienthe family harbors no secrets. As for the Daemonguard—we are the only shield that stands between the daemons and the lightless commoners of this kingdom. We must be prepared for the Daemon King’s resurgence at any time.”
His reflection scoffed. “Do you really believe your job is that important?” The man before him crossed his arms, his jaw tilting upward, a defiant look in his eye.
Am I really this cocky and insufferable? Elias wondered.
“They put you at Firehelm to retire you. You’ll never lead another campaign.
Your mind is broken,” his enemy sneered.
“I know it. You know it. You hide it, thinking no one understands the horror you carry inside. But I know it, Elias. I know it. I lived it with you. Deep down, if you really thought about it, you would agree with me. Disband the Daemonguard! Don’t send another innocent life into the pit. ”
“Who are you?” Elias demanded again.
“I am your shadow.”
Elias glared. “You’re a coward hiding behind riddles!”
“So what? You’re just an animated corpse, fueled by survivor’s guilt and self-loathing.
Tell me, do you ever think about the men who died under your command?
King Valienthe decorated you with so many medals, Hero of the Realm.
If only the people knew the truth—how you sacrificed thousands of lives for your glory.
You’re no better than the Valienthe family—all of you, murderers!
You left your men to be buried in the Abyss, their lives and families forgotten. How can you call yourself a hero?”
Elias found himself shaking and his head throbbing. His balance wavered. A hole in the floor behind him looked dark and inviting. The villain’s words were powerful, like echoes of his own thoughts in his darkest moments.
But this man was not his reflection—nor was he some mystic embodiment of his shadow self.
This man—his enemy—had fed a pig farmer to a daemon.
“I never called myself a hero,” Elias said, dismissing the villain’s words from his mind. “But . . . I am a man of honor and duty.”
Elias drew Blacklight from its sheath. He held the violet-flaming ghost sword high, fueling it with a burst of mana from his left hand. The blade flickered to life along the shined rod, burning bright purple.
Blacklight could unveil the presence of shadowhide daemons.
It seemed to work on the mask as well.
The illusion before him flickered, revealing another face beneath: a person who looked very different from himself.
Under the heavy trench coat, he still couldn’t discern if his enemy was a man or woman.
He saw lengths of matted, oily hair and a dramatic widow’s peak.
Whatever they were, they were not beautiful.
The spell was broken.
Realizing their disguise had slipped, the criminal threw their arm up over their face, cringing away from Elias. They hunched down like a rodent and scurried deeper into the shadows.
“Running so soon?” Elias called after the villain, swinging Blacklight tauntingly through the air. “Come back and face me, coward!”
“I shall—when the time is right. We shall meet again, Commander Blackwood!” the person yelled in a hoarse, gasping voice.
With a decisive motion, the criminal leapt through the hole in the floor, vanishing into the depths of the crumbling tower. Elias ran to the edge of the pit but dared not follow. To plunge in blindly might lead to certain death, or at best, a broken ankle.
The criminal plummeted downward, the obsidian mask catching the light of Elias’s ghost sword one last time before disappearing into the darkness below.
Elias stood alone at the top of the tower, breathing heavily, a headache pulsing behind his eyes.
The mirror was shattered, the illusion passed, but the confrontation still haunted him.
“Your mind is broken . . . You hide it, thinking no one understands the horror you carry inside. But I know it, Elias. I know it. I lived it with you.”
Elias sheathed his sword, those words ringing in his ears.
Who was the masked soldier who taunted him?
He left the tower the same way he had come.
Climbing down the tower’s exterior wall, using sturdy vines to support his weight, was a lot easier than traversing the dark and treacherous interior.
When he reached the bottom of the ruined tower, he searched the ground.
He found two deep footprints in the mud just outside a gaping hole at the tower’s base, where the criminal must have climbed outside before fleeing into the night.
Mid-sized boots. Still no definitive sign if it was a man or a woman.
He searched the area around the tower, but his enemy had vanished.
With a frustrated sigh, he finally gave up.
In his mind, he recalled the flicker of a face he had discerned in the shadows when he first drew Blacklight from its sheath.
Long, oily hair. Angular features. Still, he wasn’t sure he could pick out the person in a crowd.
The sound of footsteps drew his attention. When he looked up, he saw Kiran and his squad approaching him through the ruins. Kiran raised his hand and flashed his red mana, signaling to him. Elias flashed his blue mana in return.
Cherry came to stand by his side. “We were worried about you, Commander. Did you see another daemon?”
“I thought I did . . . but it seems I was mistaken,” Elias said.
“Was there something on top of the tower?” Fenrick inquired, squinting upward. “I thought I saw a shadow.”
“So did I,” Elias sighed. “There was no one.”
Kiran watched him closely. Elias met his gaze. He would speak to Kiran about the shined mask in private; the other soldiers of the squad didn’t know about it.
“Are you finished with the creatures in the Blackwood tomb?” Elias asked.
“Yes, the threat has been neutralized,” Kiran answered him.
“Good job, soldiers. Good to see we haven’t lost our edge.”
Cherry tried to hide the grin from her face. Riordan came to stand nearby, tall and silent as usual. Fenrick and Ravenna smiled at each other. They looked flushed but exuberant from the brief battle.
“And I thought life after the war would be boring,” Fenrick said with a grin.
“They should send more daemons,” Ravenna agreed. “We’ll be ready!”
“It’s nice to feel useful again,” Kiran said.
The members of the Daemonguard fell into rank out of habit as they waited for their commander’s next orders.
Elias took a step closer to Ravenna and met the woman’s dark eyes. “Ravenna, take Kiran’s amulet,” he said. “Do a quick search of the ruins. This is probably all of the monsters, but we should check the terrain to be certain. Don’t stray too far. Remain close to the tomb.”
Ravenna frowned, searching his expression, then she nodded curtly. The four soldiers of the Daemonguard saluted. Kiran tossed his amulet to Ravenna, who took it with a fierce grin. Then, as one, the four soldiers melted into the ruins.
Then Elias clasped his hands behind his back and faced Kiran with a scowl. “Come with me, Kiran. There’s something at the Blackwood tomb I need to check.”
Without further explanation, Elias started back down the path toward the tomb. His brother-in-arms fell into step by his side. As they walked, Elias asked, “Where is the shined mask, Kiran? The one I loaned you for the ball?”
His officer looked blank. “I returned it to your office.”
“Where did you put it?”
“On your desk.”
“Kiran—I told you the mask was a secret. It should have been secured.”
“It was!”
“How?”
“I put a folder over it.”
Elias groaned and pinched his nose, trying to dampen the headache that was growing behind his eyes. He would need one of Dr. Forrest’s tinctures after this night.
“Why?” Kiran asked. “Did something happen to the mask?”
“Someone got their hands on it, and they’re not our friend. The person who wrote that letter is a proper maniac, not your garden variety. They lured me to the top of the tower, and we had a small confrontation.”
Kiran’s eyes widened. “Did you get a good look at them?”
“I didn’t, because they have the mask.”
Understanding dawned. Kiran looked pale. “The person who wrote that riddle has your shined mask? He can disguise himself to look like you whenever he wants?”
“I’m not entirely sure it’s a man,” Elias said, “but yes. That’s the gist of it.”
“Blinding stars, Elias, I’m sorry—”
“What’s done is done.”
“Should we report it stolen?”