Two of the Same

Chapter Fourteen *Tyrain*

He sat on the edge of his balcony his room high up looking over the black fields of the Outlands. The cold air blew through his white hair tossing it over his shoulder. There was no hint of black within the threads of white. Tyrain who had once looked like his ancestors with his dark beauty now seemed to be a ghost, an altered reflection of his former self. He twirled his knife in the air absent mindedly, his reflection rising and falling within the blade. There was a sudden clap like a deluded thunder claps and a man appeared on the balcony with Tyrain, dark clouds swirled and curled around his feet like snakes withering on the ground.

"My liege." He said clapping his hand across his heart he kneeled before Tyrain head bowed in respect. Tyrain nodded his head, not even looking at the man who had so suddenly appeared at his feet. The man stood slowly his head still bowed keeping his eyes averted still in a sign of lasting respect.

"Your report?" Tyrain asked his voice imposing but quiet.

"My sources have told me that the rest of your men are not but three days away from their destination, the first wave has already started their excavations. We will find them my liege." The man sounded confident his eyes smiling behind the black mask that covered his face but Tyrain didn't look impressed.

"No, they won't." His voice wasn't filled with doubt but instead dead certainty in his men's lack of ability

"Sir." His subject's confusion was evident in his voice.

"They won't find it without the staff of light, and even if they did, it wouldn't matter. The shadow army can't be raised without the staff of light and won't be controlled without a king." He whispered his voice lacking all emotion as he spoke; he was still flipping the knife into the air, watching it intently.

"And you will be the king sire?" he asked the question tentatively.

"Of course," He whispered his black eyes glittered with ambition, the only thing revealing any sort of emotion. "But first I must have the location of the staff fragments, and I know just where to begin." The blade twirled in the air again.

"And where would that be my lord?" This made Tyrain pause, catching the knife in his hand once more, he lifted his face, piercing the man with his black glare. The servants back stiffened and he didn't move as though he were paralyzed within the darkness of his master's gaze. Tyrain stood slowly, walking towards the servant who was unable to tear his eyes away from Tyrain's

"My father was the last one alive to know the location of the staff of light, the only one with the key to the shadow army, and now he's dead. I was stupid and impatient, letting my emotions get the better of me and acting before I had gotten the information that I needed. One such mistake that I will not be making again." Tyrain drew closer and closer his fingers stroking the sharp edge of the blade leisurely.

"And if your father had the secret and is dead then doesn't that mean that the army is lost to us sire?" He asked his body beginning to relax from its rigid stance. A muscle in Tyrain's neck jumped as he clenched his jaw tightly.

"You know what I hate the most?" Tyrain asked his voice a deadly whisper.

"Sir?" The servant asked hesitantly. Tyrain stood in front of the servant, placing his right and heavily on the man's shoulder and looking him in the eyes. He pulled the servant into an embrace holding him there for a moment and then suddenly the servant's eyes bulged and he gasped in pain.

"I hate when I am not understood." He spoke through clenched teeth into the servant's ear and then he pushed him away. The servant's eyes were still wide as he clutched at the knife handle the protruded from his deep within his chest, slowly he fell to the ground in a crumbled heap on the floor, blood pooling beneath him, dead.

"Don't you feel that was a tad excessive? Honestly now, everyone makes mistakes" A low mocking voice came from the darkness inside the room. Slowly a figure stepped into the light and leaned against the stone door frame with a look of undisguised amusement danced in his white blue eyes as he starred at the growing puddle of blood at his feet. His hair was black as soot and pulled back into a small pony tail at the back of his head. Tyrain reached down and yanked the knife out of the dead servant's chest; the body rose and then fell back to the ground with a low thud landing again in the pool of its own blood.

"You know I don't tolerate stupidity well." Tyrain said bluntly no trace of remorse in his voice as he took out a piece of cloth from his pocket and began to rub the blood off the blade, cleaning the knife with little interest.

"My lord, you are a tyrant." The new comer said with a curl in his lips and an over exaggerated bow.

"Don't try my patience Valcon, why are you here." Tyrain said cooling turning his attention once more to the dark mist filled lands before him. There was a small frown of irritation that crossed Valcon's face before he put a false courtier's smile on his lips and walked to the side of Tyrain.

"Your greatness, I am here to serve, as I always am." He said with a small incline of his head as a sign of respect.

"Do you have any news of them, news of her?" Tyrain asked his voice constricting slightly within his throat as his mind whirled, thoughts of Gwyn dancing behind his eyes tauntingly. Valcon bit his lips, his reluctance evident, but finally he answered.

"They were spotted in Vale city, just outside of Fane city, not but a night ago. They were seen with the bounty hunters Brynn and Kagan. Sire it's been speculated that they are recruiting, it may be in an attempt to thwart you my lord."

"How many are there."

"Nine so far my lord, Princess Gwyn, and the Captain of the palace guard Arul, along with four of his best guards, the siblings and a stranger." Tyrain's ears perked at this.

"Who is the stranger, what does he look like?" Tyrain demanded turning his full attention to Valcon. Valcon blanked at the question for a moment, you could see his brain searching for an answer quickly.

"Black hair, tall, lean, emerald eyes, feral like." He recited off the top of his head quickly eyeing Tyrain wit confusion as he watched his lords face contort with expressions of confusion and then sudden outrage.

"That Lucian prisoner I locked away..." he whispered in a stunned voice. "This could be a problem." He murmured more so to himself the Valcon, his mind elsewhere as his muttered musings became more and more jumbled.

"My lord, if I may, it is only nine travelers, even with a team of my worst men we would be more than a match for them; sire please, allow me to go and take care of this minor problem." There was a malicious glint in his eyes as Valcon grinned wickedly, he clenched his hands into fists, two of his fingers were silver and shinned curiously bright, even in the gloom, but Tyrain shook his head slightly still lost in his own thoughts.

"No, this is something that I will take care of," he whispered quietly, "But there are a few things that I will need help on." He said turning back to Valcon his eyes glowing with secrets. Valcon knew that look and smiled with poorly hidden excitement.

"Anything you wish my lord," he said once again kneeling to the ground in a deep bow. Tyrain looked down at him, a small knowing smile crossed his lips. His plane would work, he could feel it in his bones, it would work and he would have Gwyn back on his side once more. His heart sped up once more and he relished the thought of being near her again, feeling the familiar brush of her consciousness in his once again, all that had to be done was to put the stray dog down that was trailing after her like a lost pup. Everything was going to work perfectly.