The Zero Hour | #Wattys2016

Chapter 10 - The Onyx Assassin (Part 2)

The fireplace in Drake Manor continued to burn as Malevolent drifted back to reality.

My own son. Malevolent thought angrily. My own flesh and blood is dragging the family name through the mud. No, I won't allow it. I must take matters into my own hands.

The Drake manor servants stood silently in the corner, trying not to be noticed by Malevolent. It was standard procedure whenever he was in one of his foul moods.

"What are you worthless maggots just standing there for? Clean this mess up!"

The servants scurried and tumbled over themselves picking up the pieces of glass. Some frantically wiping off the smears of blood on the floor while others used rags to soak up the split wine. Malevolent Drake strode out of the room, leaving his servants to do their duties. He put on his outer cloak which was made of the finest wool. He pulled the hood over his head and opened the front door of his manor, letting in a gust of cold night breeze.

Malevolent could see his breath vapor as he exhaled in the cold night air under the flaming torches outside the manor. Snow swirled around him and he covered his face and made his way down the cobblestone path and onto the main street.

Normally, I wouldn't be caught dead running errands on my own, but this requires a personal touch. No one can know.

It was a cold night and the wind blew with sharpness and precision that brought chills to his bones. Malevolent shivered under the pale moonlight. He muttered an incantation and a flame of fire appeared in front of him. Better, he thought. He walked down the familiar main street of White Harrow city center. Making a turn into the commercial district, he shuffled along.

The battle-wizards on guard tonight patrolled the street corners and alleyways, keeping the peace in White Harrow. Rain or shine, sleet or snow – they remained vigilant and loyal to their duty. Crime was almost unheard of under his rule, and he was particular proud of it.

Good to see my men keeping the vermin in order. They called me harsh. Well, someone has to do what needs to be done. I'd rather be feared than loved.

'Drake Street' read the sign. What a wonderful name. He strode into the street that was lined with luxury goods stores – from jewelers to goldsmiths, from fine dining restaurants to designer labels. He strolled down the street, admiring the glamorous signs. All of the stores were closed save for one or two fine dining restaurants. There were no patrons but the workers were cleaning up. They were too busy to notice him as he walked past them.

He snapped his fingers and the ball of flame which gave him light and warmth dissipated into thin air. The rest of my journey has to be inconspicuous. No one can know that I was here. He walked a few more feet and stopped in between 'Harold's Fine Wands' and 'Antiquities from the East'. As most of the businesses on this street were closed for the night, only minimal street lamps were lit for the night patrols. He looked at his pocket watch, only a minute until midnight. He shuffled on the spot to keep warm.

The chime of the White Harrow clock tower rang out throughout the cold night air. Excellent, it's time. He squinted at the brick wall of the stores and counted seven bricks to the left and eight bricks upward from the ground before pushing on that particular brick. It slid in and clicked. If he had done this at any other time, nothing would have happened.

"Onyx" he whispered. The bricks folded into the wall, revealing an opening in the wall. He walked into it and the bricks closed themselves over him. He was left alone, enveloped by darkness. He shivered in the cold. He muttered an incantation, trying to summon the ball of flame to light his way. Nothing happened. He tried again. No luck.