Master of Whispers

Part I

It was past midnight and there was no moonlight. It was dark, the way he liked it. The sky had been filled with dark storm clouds earlier in the evening so it made sense that they were covering the moon up now. He could smell the storm brewing from the west and it would be upon them within the next few hours. The air was heavy with anticipation and nippy in temperature, colder than usual for this time of year. There were no sounds—no night birds, no nocturnal foraging, nothing but the sound of his boots breaking twigs. He had not seen any movement along the path or in the woods since he began his journey. The night was holding its breath in expectation of what was coming.

The signs were all pointing to a cold, damp rain that would be unrelenting, making the business at hand messy. He approached the far outskirts of town along the forest line, his long black cape keeping him warm and giving him protection and anonymity. Not that he thought he needed it. He had his sword and dagger for protection and he was always prepared to use them. ALWAYS. His form-fitting leather gloves protected his hands and could be burned to destroy evidence–not that he has had to do that either. That was because he was good at his job. While he was employed as the Master of Whispers for the Castle Angels, he had no fear of retribution – from anybody. It was more of a matter of them fearing him and he liked the advantage that gave him!

He positioned himself so he could see without being seen from the road, blending in with his surroundings. He leaned against the tree keeping his body still but his eyes were constantly taking stock of the area around him. This was one part of his job that he didn’t like — waiting. It seemed that he spent half his time making appointments with shady characters and waiting for them to show up and the other half reporting his findings to those who hired him. Not that he was complaining; the perks were good. He could plan his days or nights as he pleased and everyone left him alone and he was paid well for his services. So long as his information was accurate, no one wanted to know just how he obtained it. He smiled to himself thinking of some of his tried and true methods! Ah, yes. For the most part, he loved his job! It went well with his name….Deamon.

Deamon couldn’t gage how long he stood there leaning against the tree in the dark gloom of night. Usually he was able to tell how much time elapsed by the moon’s movements. But not tonight. The winds had picked up, signaling that the storm would be soon on top of him. He started to wonder if Telem was ever going to show up. His informants knew of his displeasure should they not be where he wanted them and at what time he wanted them. He smiled to himself at his informant’s name….how appropriate it was! He was never sure if it was his given name or a nickname. Either way, as long as he showed up with information, that’s all he wanted.

He was contemplating leaving his hiding spot when he caught the whiff of the unusual order of an unclean body. Ah, finally…Telem was on his way. As Deamon strained to hear from which direction he was coming, he detected the snapping of twigs that had fallen from the incoming storm. He wished that Telem would have better hygiene so he wasn’t so offensive, but Deamon always found his information useful so he tried to make the meetings outdoors. If he strained his eyes, he could just make him out standing over by the hawthorn tree. His body movements made him look agitated; he was pacing back and forth and wringing his hands, looking down the road and then up at the sky.

Deamon looked around to make sure that Telem had not been followed. He pulled away from his hiding spot and slowly walked to another area of the road before making himself known to his spy. He cleared his throat, his voice carrying in the night. Telem jumped and swung towards the sound.

“Masssster, issss it you?”

Deamon never liked listening to Telem talk; he always sounded like a hissing snake. “Yes, Telem. Do you have news for me?”

Just as Telem opened his mouth to respond, there was a great flash of light streaking across the sky. Its fingers reached out allowing both men to clearly see the other. A booming crack of thunder followed which left one man cowering in fear and the other looking up at the sky and it’s impending doom.

Part II

“Mon dieu! Stop sniveling like a girl!” Deamon snapped at Telem. “Tell me what you found out! Quick before the rain finds us still here on the road!”

Telem, still shaking like a leaf, began his story in his high pitched, grating voice. “I had bussssinessss over at Freedomia. The battle bellssss sssstarted to ring while I wassss there. All the Freedom Fighterssss united on the musssstering groundssss. I sssstayed long enough to ssssee what wassss going on. I heard they were waiting for the army.” Then Telem paused to look around him before he continued in a whisper, “of the mosssst dreaded one to arrive, Masssster.”

“The most dreaded one you say? He is THAT close to us here?”

“Yessss! That issss what I heard with my own earssss. The mosssst dreaded one, Masssster. Yessss.”

“Freedomia, you say?” Deamon stood there thinking to himself, his finger tapping against the hilt on his sword.

“Yessss, Masssster, the demon issss only two dayssss away from ussss.” Telem started pacing, ringing his hands, talking to himself under his breath in his little whining voice. “Two dayssss. What sssshould I do? Ohhhh! Where sssshould I go? Two dayssss. What sssshould I do? Oh, no! Where sssshould I go in two dayssss? Two dayssss!!”

“Fam ta yeule!” shouted Deamon, trying to control the little man in front of him since he couldn’t control the weather. There was a clap of thunder within seconds after another lightning bolt that stretched across the heavily laden sky. Deamon could feel the storm’s intensity and smelled sulfur in the air. Telem’s stringy hair was standing on end from the effects of both his fingers combing it in panic and the static charged air from the storm. This last outburst from the sky sent Telem over the edge.

Deamon tried to get the attention of the now-crazed man by taking hold of his shoulders and giving him a firm shake, “Telem! Telem!!”

Telem stopped his incantations and pacing and looked at Deamon, his glazed eyes wanting, not expecting an answer of what he was to do. Instead, Deamon stepped back and tossed a coin purse at him saying, “Here is payment for your news. Now go, before the winds and rains wash your bony body to hell.”

Telem caught the purse, the few meager coins inside jingling together as the heavens gave another of its shows of mightiness. He ducked as if physically hit by the lightning, his eyes wide with fright as he looked at the Master of Whispers. Deamon dismissed him with a wave of his hand down the road saying, “Go! I will be in touch with you again soon! Now! Go slither to safety, little man.”

Deamon turned from Telem, not even waiting to see if Telem had followed his orders, then started to make his way back to the Keep, digesting the news that Telem had just given him. He quickened his journey knowing that the heavens were about to open up. There was another light show followed immediately with the noise of a bellowing sky. He knew the storm was on top of him. So Alpha Mephistopheles, demon of all demons, was on his way to the Castle Angels and he was telling all who would listen that he was the one in control. The heavens opened their flood gates, unable to withstand the onslaught of the thunder and lightning. The rain came down rapidly in hard, pelting drops. Deamon entered the outside wall of the Keep. He needed to pass the information from Telem to the one who would pay him the most. As he ran down the alleys, his cape flapped behind him and the rain continued to pour down. The alleys already had little rivers flowing down and across them. Deamon ran through his list of clients who might find this information valuable: King Sylvain, the Queen, Carl, Duke of Morridin, or Zigaroth.

Deciding who would best pay him, he hurried down one more alley. He was almost to his destination. His clothes were already drenched to the skin, his hair plastered to his head, rivulets of water running down his face. He put his hand to control his scabbard so he could take the steps two at a time. A few paces past the top step he stopped at a door, breathing heavily from his flight. He looked up and down to make sure no one was out in the night observing where he was going. He could not risk anyone finding out about his movements. He felt it was safe and knocked his special knock. The door was opened and he slipped inside.

Part III

Deamon was standing at the top of the highest peak of Tonathium Mountains, seeking for traces of the upcoming enemy. Both his brothers were standing at his sides, Bone face and Deamon666. They had come along with their usual escort from Freedomia at his request. It was a cloudless day and he could see far and still no sign of the enemy approaching. It was definitely not the kind of weather wished for in a battle so he thought, he preferred high winds, clouds and rain, elements with which he composed very well.

-Well brothers, hope you rested well, for we are in for a great battle upon this Alpha Mephisto and his vile creatures, said Deamon turning at his brothers.

-I have had to fight some of his kind in the past, they are not easy creatures to defeat and magic will be necessary along with a massive amount of armies, responded Bone Face.

Deamon could sense his brother was unease about something.

-What troubles you brother?

-I left Freedomia 72 hours ago, and saw no one preparing for any movement when leaving, have they decided not to join in?

-No, they have not decided anything for I decided not to ask their help. This battle is well suited for The Castle Angels, so you are the only ones from Freedomia I have requested and General Alora granted me your presence… but await no one else.

Deamon666, his twin brother, pointed out South, not saying a word. Deamon and Bone Face both looked in the direction he was pointing and saw dust filling the air up a far. Deamon’s informant again was right; the enemies were there exactly when he was told they would be.

He could see a part of CA’s army was already taking place in the east and he smiled. Figures Zigaroth has his own informants, or used some of its wizardry to determine when he should take place. He could not see the Queen’s and King’s elite guards just yet, nor Nova’s, Carl’s or Earnest's, the most skilful officers of the Castle Angels, but he doubted not they would join, nor that the rest of the army would. The precious information he gave, (sold would be more like it), definitely should have gone it’s way to them all and he knew he could count on them and his other brethrens.

Finally, they saw a horseman rising on a far hill, he was followed by his own men and a massive force of attack filled the hill and started their descent in the valley, where Deamon wished the battle to take place. The enemy’s number kept growing, as if never ending. Deamon smiled and looked at his brothers.

-Well, so it seems hell was unleashed once more… Let’s welcome them like they deserve it.

Urging his horse, he raced through what was to become a giant battlefield, followed by his brothers and their men.

(Part III was posted by Deamon Belanger and has not had a final edit)

created originally 29 May 2011