30 The Last Light

He was afraid, standing in a dark room with only one entry for light closed. Shuffling of feet could be heard. Multiple people running in the darkness his eyes could not penetrate. Blind to his surroundings, Lucas still knew what was with him. Or better yet, who was with him.

"They tell me you have information too valuable to reach any others ears except mine." A deep voice, hardened from struggles and pain spoke. Lucas shivered as he was addressed, it felt disconcerting to be spoken to. A legend in the dark had spoken to him, and he will have the opportunity to respond. He cursed his fat body then, for maybe he would have been viewed better by him.

Sweat slowly crawled down his body, greater than any moment in his life. Worse than running for any period. Lucas grabbed his hand, which shook uncontrollably, as he prepared to speak without his voice stuttering. "Yes," he thanked the heavens for his steady voice. How embarrassing it would be for it to break in front of him.

"You know the consequences for what I deem as unworthy of my time?" This time, the voice spoke judgmentally. Making it what he thought about Lucas. Lowering his head in shame, he waited for a while, making sure the man before him had finished; the punishment for interrupting him was too high to risk anything.

He replied more confidently this time around. "Yes," He was sure of its value. Considering only five were ever caught outside their homes, this would help him rise above the station he was limited to because of his excess fat. In a world filled with the strong bodied and willed, one who was fat was determined to lack both. Nothing but a grubby merchant, incapable of defending himself.

"Then speak! I have no time to waste on the likes of you! Here in the darkness, behind me, stand the next wave of mine. And with it, I will finally get my revenge. My stature may have been lost, but he will lose so much more. And yet, you, fat, slow, and weak-willed, attempt to tread in the darkness of this holy room." A crazed voice lingered at the end of the man's impassioned words; sitting hidden on the fringes. Lucas did not understand what the man went on about, but it did not matter. No, the information he held did more than anything.

"Manus Furti," Giving the inhabitant of the dark room his titled name. Respect and admiration were all clear as day, ironic to all who existed in the realm of lies and deceit. Lucas continued, trying his best to add as much flair to his words as possible. To tell a tale that would captivate the man before him.

"As I continued my ordained task, creating vast treasures of gold and silvers for your might. I had gotten a pure child, expected to sell for a small fortune. As I brought her up the stage, hungry-eyed men and cruel women looked on. Their eyes glimmering at the possibilities this young and untainted slave had." He paused for a theatrical effect, hoping beyond hope that the man before him was hooked. Yet, nothing in the darkness changed. The rhythmic beat of those training unchanged, and he moved not. So, Lucas gathered his courage and continued on; pushing through the slog that seemed to coalesce before him.

"I began the usual fare, setting the starting price as high as I could without losing the smaller bidders. For, who would entice the wealthier patrons to spend more other than those with little? Setting it at five hundred silvers, a few at the edges walked away. The value beyond their meager means. Slowly the price rose, as people began to bid." Stopping again, he waited for any form of response, or even a hint that the man hadn't already left.

The silence was suffocating, throttling him. Seconds after seconds passed, yet no response was forthcoming. Lucas feared he had overdone it. In doing so, he had lost the interest of this vicious person. For only horrible tortures were in his future if so.

"Continue," The man's voice broke the silence that had layered on top of the darkness. Letting out a breath of relief, Lucas once again thanked the gods for their mercy. Taking in a deep breath, he prepared for the crux of the story. To finish his tale of the man who walked into Thols just a few days ago.

"As the haggling began between the bidders, a strangely cloaked entourage of people suddenly crossed the gates of Thols without harassment from the guards. To do that, they must be important and worth attention." As he was about to continue, the darkness in front of him seemed to shift. Dancing and swirling around him, within a second, hard breathing began to go down his neck.

The man had somehow gotten behind him, making Lucas shiver in fear once more. He must have done something wrong, he prayed in his head, to somehow get out of this room. Why was he so stupid as to believe Manus Furti would deem him worthy of his time.

"He is here? When did they arrive? Why haven't I heard of this yet?! Did anyone of them have a long staff?" The sudden torrent of question caught Lucas off guard. He had been prepared to meet his end against a foe he knew to be impossible for him to beat, not these questions.

"Answer!" The man demanded as the darkness turned to a liquid suffocating Lucas. Unable to breathe he struggled his best, but he knew it to be futile. Croaking with all his might, he tried to utter any words but could not. Slowly, Lucas felt his life pass. But at the very edge, where a blackness, darker than what had surrounded him, began to cover his peripheral vision, the hand that covered his breath suddenly lost its form.

Falling down he gasped with a heavy breath, he looked up into where the darkness seemed to coalesce. There he saw the man's physical shape. He seemed to be at least six feet tall and with a slim build.

"I did not see anyone with a large staff, nor do I know whose entourage that was. But, I came to inform you something, in my mind might be as valuable as what you seek. A Seraphim's mortal child has entered the city of Thols. Who would dare speak of emotions except those who can actually see them? But, it is a warning as well, my Manus Furti, his darkness is unlike your own, stronger in make. His takes a solidified form. Piercing through one of my guards, crucifying him as he willed it. But, that is not all! No, he was also a wielder of the earth. A master that created a pillar he had risen from like a vengeful king."

Lucas was determined to speak his mind. His desire for power and gold was more significant than the desire for safety. If luck would continue to take his side, then let it work worth its time; folds greater than its previous efforts. Waiting for the final verdict, he watched as the man turned away. His storm growing greater the longer he stood there silently.

But it was at a sudden change that let Lucas sigh in relief. All the stormed darkness seemed to flicker then disappear, leaving only the peaceful waters it had been. His death was not meant for today, no, his information was too important.

But there will be death for sure. Blood will be spilled, flowing like a river. Lucas knew that to be true, considering someone of importance had walked into Thols without the man's knowledge. "Leave, your reward will be great. While a punishment for those who failed me will be even greater."

Getting up from his knees, he rushed towards the door. All the while cursing his stubby legs, and their lack of speed. Opening the door, the light finally covering him; pushing the shadows away. A sight he was happy to see again.

But as he took the first step out, a sudden pain bloomed in his stomach. Quite unusual compared to hunger pangs. As he looked down, his vision began to blur. A spear made of solidified Ice tore through it all, blood leaking around it.

Hands shaking, he grabbed the ice, trying to understand what had happened. It was then that a voice broke into his confused mind, "You shall be rewarded with a final glimpse of light before I kill you. No one speaks to me that way and comes out alive after doing so. No! One!" Falling down ungracefully, he watched the sun's rays beamed on him as the familiar blackness began to take over his vision. And with a few seconds, it did.