Legend of Lacraan: Skylearth Rising

Chapter 2: Winds of Fate

 Gallows such an ominous word--that was not only a symbolism for misfortune, but also an onomatopoeia for the it made when a blustery wind rippled through the hemp. It was a miserable place where crows often came claim the remains of the hung prisoners.

Arjen sat and contemplated what to do in his cell. He did not take the sword with him; it was packed away on R.J.'s saddle. He still remembered he had the Phoenix Flaun tucked away in his crotch pocket, but using it would draw suspicion and the guards would surely catch on to the escape plan. Arjen's hands were literally tied in this situation.

An echoing tone of metal clang that  together down the dungeon steps were fast approaching as Arjen could just barely make out the shadows of people who stopped briefly on the stone steps. Hushed whispers descended into the damp cellar within earshot of the prisoner.

"We cannot hang him for a crime he not committed, Captain. Are you sure our Liege isn't just disposing the boy to ensure he remains in power? The boy is technically not even of age yet, according the census and based on his birth-moon, he won't be eighteen for at least a couple of hours, therefore hanging anyone who is a child is against our customs, and would surely be anarchy.

"You idiot, how dare you speak dishonorably about our king. He is in power because he sacrificed everything in his name to bring justice to the wrongdoers of this land!"

"Wrongdoer? what has the boy done that is required of drastic...." the voice stopped as he began choking on his own words from the other man who wrapped a heavy hand around his throat.

"Not another word, Sage. There are prying ears in the halls, and I won't hesitate to kill them all as well as yourself for treason in the name of the king, do I make myself clear?" There was a brief pause. "Good, remember, not another word....in fact, go ready the horses, round up the peasants, it's almost show time,"

The heavy iron boots continued down the steps and then paused for a moment as the guard fumbled through his keys to search for the right one to unlock the jail door. Arjen scrambled to his corner, and curled in a corner to pretend he was sleeping, listening to rhythmic iron boots echo the foot steps down the dungeon hall.

"Rise and Shine Arjen Dexter, today is your big day," Arjen sat up and turned around  facing the armored guard. He glanced to his left where an elderly man sat watching with horror. The man was about mid-sixties, with white fading hair, his skin was wrinkled and rough as if years of worry and hard work finally caught up to him. He looked sickly and weak as if he had been starved deliberately.

"Arjen...you're Arjen? MY  Son?" the man asked with tears welling in his eyes. The guard grew impatient and aggressively opened the cell door as the man scrambled to his feet.

"Come on, we don't have all day," the guard said, pulling on Arjen's arm. The old man in the cell scrambled towards Arjen and grasped his hand tightly. As soon as the old man touched the young prisoners hand, Arjen could visually see a memory. The memory was blue tone tint, but all the while, the woman was very clear to see: fair skin, beautiful rosy cheeks with rich wavering black hair. She seemed to be holding something so small in her arms as her voice echoed: "My sweet Arjen," she looked at the father and then let out a shrieking scream as the man in the memory knelt down, clutching his wrist in agony. The memory faded away and the man continued to scream, holding his wrist which squirted blood everywhere--even on Arjen. The boy glanced at the floor and watched the man's severed hand wriggle about like a fish without water. Arjen felt a strong hatred for the man as he pushed the man off of him, and took the potent Phoenix Flaun from his hand and blew it into the guards face. The guard backed up out of the cell, screaming in agony as soon as the guard lifted his helm, his head spontaneously combusted, painting the cell walls and people with blood and organs, the man in the armor finally dropped to the floor, a heavy clang echoed through the dungeons hall. Arjen searched the lifeless body for the set of keys and quickly fumbled through them desperate to free his father from his condition. Arjen's father looked up at his son with pleading eyes which were filled to the brim with salty tears.

"Go," his father whispered.

"I can't leave you, not now!" Arjen argued, his throat clenching up in a tight knot.

"You must, I would only slow you down; I am much to weak for the journey. Take your freedom and save yourself. I will transport you out of harms way."

Arjen started at his father for a long time capturing his facial features into his mind. Then he turned towards the stairwell that lead up from the dungeon to the main castle. His father closed his eyes and began muttering an incantation. Arjen saw a single tear roll down the side of the old man's cheek. Arjen turned around and saw a bright light was beginning to take form. as Arjen watched his father work on the spell, he saw that he was transferring his own life force to create a portal. Arjen stepped into the blinding light and watched as the old man began to fade into dust. The portal was warm and inviting, a loving embrace seemed to wrap around Arjen as if he was being held for the very first time. The light grew stronger and the white force faded out the jail cell. Soft whispers echoed through Arjen's ear as continued his journey through the transportation. Arjen felt the warmth of his mother and fathers laughter as he saw visions of his childhood. A tear trickled down his cheek as he realized that this teleportation was the work of a parent's love, when the teleportation ended, he was right back where he started...he was in fact....home.