Skulduggery Pleasant fan-fic: The Cradle of Magic (UNDER EDIT)

The Beginning of the End

They had been watching.

The three had been monitored since the beginning and when he spoke of beginnings he was referring not to the couple of weeks that recent events had taken place in; but from the very start.

He had seen her training, he knew she was capable; the other two completely oblivious to what seemed to evidently be a lie. Ravel had played his cards well, faking the idea of the prophecy and asking for assistance that would eventually lead to their fiery deaths. He had seen the bomb, he had keenly watched then die; watched her burn. He of course new the Skeleton lived there was no doubt in that. The next was the pretty Necromancer girl, she knew too much as did her guardian. They too had paid the sacrifice of forbidden knowledge. Lastly was the Adept, he chuckled at what he saw; he knew she would easily escape. Yet from the Grand Mage’s perspective he had failed me and he would pay in his own blood.

Erskine Ravel had not lied… These girls were on many a hit list, some wanted their skill: the abilities they had naturally claimed from the dark. Some wanted their pain: to see them drowning and writhing, inevitability in their eyes striking out from their younger years as they struggled to sustain the last ebb of light before the candle was snuffed. Others wanted their blood: many a time before had it been leaked, the precious drops spurting from the body; useless as it left worthy to obtain.

They had been watching; the golden eyed man, the girl’s parent, the necromancer, the skeleton and most importantly the three girls.

But there was only one thing on this man’s mind. The girl: The Adept. And soon he would hold her in the palm of his hand once more. His red and bloodied hand.

For Nefarian Serpine, despite difficulties, always got what he wanted. And this time it would be the prize valued to him the most.

 ***

-Trin

The sky was dark.

 This was an understatement. The sky was black; the stars cloaked by the vast, rain-filled clouds. This was the calm before the storm.

Havoc flinched at the door, his hand wavering. He bowed his head and looked towards me for an answer to his unasked question.

“We need to find them Jack…” I mumbled and rubbed a finger over the tattoo on my forefinger. It felt on fire.

He nodded quickly and lowered the handle, wrenching it forwards and tampering the lock with an English penny, causing the metal to crack piercingly. The door made a satisfying click as he opened it unto a dark corridor. I hurried inside briskly and the corridor was encased in darkness as he closed the light passage.

“My Aunt taught me a fair few things if you were wondering.” He mumbled inaudibly at my shoulder, unsheathing his sword and letting a blue glow lick the walls as we walked; our footsteps clacking on the concrete floor vociferously.

My brow furrowed and I let a whisper escape my lips, “One: Your aunty? I thought you said you had no family? Two: Please tell me you’re not a Lord of the Rings geek? I have enough with Bliv and Vin…”

He chuckled lightly and made an effort to speak when a synthetic light ahead played with the shadows and a silhouette was visible on the wall. A struck an arm out and pushed him to the wall, splaying my fingers over his mouth. His eyes widened disapprovingly and I flicked mine to the sudden movement up ahead. He nodded and carefully prised me off, keeping down and closer to the intense dark. We made it to the end of the corridor with ease, falling back on the austerely concreted wall as the light hit our retinas harshly. Two cleavers were ahead, dragging something bulky along the flooring. It left a trail of blood.