Chapter 32

"And that is one curious beauty about Truth: she is as a prism of diamond.

All of her facets reflect severally, yet each side is as honest as the other. It is where you stand and observe that affects reckoning."

~

Aisles of the Secret Dungeons,

Kingdom of Tristendyre,

The first Phrinight of the Second month,

XXI Year of Regency

There was still a great way down the straight corridor leading to the cell wherein Imogen awaited.

Just as Jaycob Israel strode, he realised that there was no more the sound of silence. The hair upon his arms stood upright as wheat fields when he felt the presence of a breathing person standing behind him in the darkness.

For a pulsing moment, Jaycob was thankful for the hood that covered his head, be-cause his countenance required the concealment at that present circumstance.

Quickly seizing the descending fabric of his capes, he held it over his masked face and swivelled to see the man in a dark cloak holding a great hammer high to smite the Archer.

Jaycob, being trained in the arts of combat and defence, lacked not both prowess and agility. He bent low to dodge the blow waged by the anonymous foe.

The man in dark guise was shorter than the Archer and thus, Jaycob squatted down to his knee to evade the attack directed to his head.

In the flash of descending, he caught sight of mud caked on the soles of the man's wet boots when the cloaks around his feet shifted to reveal the contents underneath.

That was a curious observation for it meant the man was one from above earth, potentially a common kern of the kingdom, and not the mere shadow of a person roaming the Secretive sectors of the Under-Ground with a life unaccounted.

His prime intention was to disarm the man and he noticed a sway in his motion when the strike had not achieved its intended target. Jaycob utilised this momentary falter to imbalance the man's stance and kicked his feet with his arm.

It was reckonable that the man's body could not handle the weight of the weapon and there was two potential attributes: either he was enfeebled of age or he was frail of sickness.

Both ways, it was evident that the man was not equipped with skills to fight and had contemplated not the retaliation from Jaycob's end. Further, from the sound of the grunts, it was evident that this was no female.

Swiftly rising, the Chief Archer's eyes switched to the mysterious man's arms.

When the hooded man missed his focus, one of his arms was occupied in gaining stability while only a single fist was employed in bearing the grip of the hammer.

It presented an opportune opening for the olive-haired archer to deprive him of weapon; Jaycob slashed the side of his palm against the man's clenched wrist and struck his other hand against the back of the fist that clasp on the grip of the heavy hammer.

When the weapon flew aside, the hesitant man appeared as if he was preparing to flee whilst Jaycob's interest would be allured by the fallen hammer.

However, the Archer's concerns were far from meaning injury to the man; he needed to secure custody of his senses and further investigate the reasons behind his deathly intentions to prefer the murder.

The shadow clad man's inclination to run was evident from his demeanour, yet he seemed to be careful of facing his back to the Archer lest he be killed.

This mild hesitation was all that Jaycob needed to use to his favour before advancing forward.

In fright, the unarmed man in a hooded houpplande took to his heel and began to flee. The taller youth managed to encompass him immediately and clasped his arm around the man's neck, locking his elbow against his Adam's apple.

"Who are you?" he breathed into the man's ear though there was still much resistance from the unknown captive.

With a knack strike against the side of his neck, the Archer caused the gush of blood carried through the artillery reduce from the pressure and slowly, the man's consciousness eroded.

He hauled the heavy and fainted body of the hooded man over his shoulder and made his quick way to the cell where Imogen was stayed, for he could not be found in the corridors uncovering the man's masquerade where the other men in nightish hoods were still walking the premise with sinister intentions and may notice him.

~

The vermillion haired damsel was still in fright after seeing the shadows of the unknown men pass over. She sat at the corner of the cell and huddled her knees against her chest.

It was certain news that they would not kill her hastily, for she was needed, but there was something gravely imperilling about the presence of unaccounted persons.

The wall wherefrom Jaycob had made his exit shifted and she stared at the sifting barricade in ill and silenced anticipation, hoping it was none besides the Archer himself that was making entrance.

True to her expectations, it was the familiar man she wished. "I hope you are safe", he heaved, unshouldering a mass of dark garments upon his side.

"I am well", she responded, rising to her feet and finding the dark cloak being the attire of a true and complete human whose face was concealed.

As Jaycob set the man down against the wall, the damsel hastened thereto and inspected.

"Is he of your comrades? Has he seen injury?" asked she, testing the pulse.

Jaycob removed his hood and squatted down beside her before he shrugged his shoulders.

"I do not hold knowledge of this man's identity, but I can guarantee you that he is injured. Naught to fret of, however; he will regain his consciousness with time. He is only temporarily fainted."

"And how did he collapse?" asked the damsel, concern staining her words.

"I rendered him unconscious", said Jaycob, as if that was all the information from the chaos she needed.

"Was it because he was one you disliked?" asked Imogen, her worries shifting from the man's health to her friend's lack of chivalry.

She had not forgotten the knifing glare he had shot at her earlier whilst she was voicing her rebellion against the Regents. She could only wish she was not a like victim.

Jaycob rose there-from and strode away, coolly leaving his reasons with her knowledge: "He attempted to attack me first. I was merely countervailing. I expect he will recover well enough to provide us with the details of his motives."

The man opened the vault that bore clothes and inspected the contents thereof that were neatly arranged. Once his survey was concluded, he made his way to the couple: one conscious and the other not.

"I saw the shadows of a few other men as well, dressed akin to this person", Imogen offered.

Jaycob immediately inclined his heed. "Did they enter this cell?" asked he, and the maiden in reception shook her head meaning otherwise.

"I merely observed their passing shadows, but I recall it appeared as men wearing drapes and cowls", said the girl whose nose was painted with mild freckles.

He gave her a nod before crouching down and then began uncloaking the man of unrevealed identity.

"These grounds are absolutely restricted from human knowledge", Jaycob began. "I am unaware of what the business of these men is hereunder, for there has been no discourse made with me by the Regent regarding them. However, routing judgement from the uniformity and deliberation ambushed behind their gear and access, I presume they function on the State's call."

Imogen imbibed the information he seemed to be providing. "And if you were unaware of their movement here beneath, what purpose in employment do you imagine they pursue in such secrecy?" asked she.

"I am yet to gain such whereabouts; I do not hold possession of concrete knowledge. Howbeit, I am of a surety that it is ill-conceived business", said the Archer, frustrated.

The matter appeared to be grating on Jaycob's tempers for there were no odds of any deals that may have stayed unbeknownst to him.

"It further seems that they have been proceeding with these affairs for a fairly long period. Per-haps even an operation of years", the man added.

"But how did that escape your surveillance all if this past time?" asked she, worried that if Jaycob Oreius himself hadn't aggregated the nuances of this mystery, it was gravely hostile and treacherous.

"Their secretive base is underneath, by the sepulchres, where it is commonly acknowledged that no procedures or strides are underway", he said this with deduction from where he had detected the Regents' presence, north to where he had left his grandfather's carcase.

"All the confidential functions I perform are carried out here in this Secret Sector, and never down under. Thus, I have neither seen need nor persons herein.

There have been times when I have heard the shifting sounds of urgently moving rodents, but I had never so assuredly suspected they were of persons until this night when I saw the hooded silhouettes.

I assume these men have built their lair there and have remained therein, only making need to appear in the corridors this night for the sake of a meeting", said Jaycob, contemplatively.

He did not know the purpose of such gathering, but he felt deeply that he required knowing the secrets.

"Do you consider this person to have advanced his strike with specific knowledge that it was you?", asked she, hoping there were no dangers chasing her friend.

"This man sowed his tread at the wake of my shadow with the especial intent to claim my breath. I must unearth the ulterior source of his concept and the heart of these threats. There is no warrant that the hunger for my life is quenched with the action of a single man's worthless attempt", said Jaycob, seeming greatly distressed.

"But how did you survive the strike?" asked Imogen.

"He hesitated."

Once the dark and hooded cape was removed, they noticed that the man was one fairly familiar.

"Unveil his face", Jaycob asked, folding the fabric in his possession.

The damsel quickly began unmasking the man and when the features of the man's face met her recognition, she was horrified.

It was the old man that lit candles every night in the streets of Tristendyre.

~