Betrayal - A BrightStone Saga Novella

-Manu-

Manu, in his devastation and despair at the loss of Maya, lashes out at everyone. And he has done so for the past two days. He killed two men for looking at him the wrong way, and mauled another to the point where he no longer resembles a human man.

He now sits in the dungeon of Kallmorre; a small outpost north of the burning plain, but far enough away from the ancient cave. He weeps tears into the salt-encrusted walls where no other man can witness. He grieves for the one he lost; his only love Maya. She was the only one to love him absolutely, and he, her.

"Why did you do it, Folknor?"

"It was not his fault; you know this."

"Do not speak to me. It was all his fault. He is the reason she is dead!"

"You know that is not true. It was the stones; when they fused."

"No! Stop it now! It was Folknor and him alone. He brought us there and told us to use the Brightstones."

"Yes, but he is not at fault. If you had not fused them, it would still be open."

"No, I will not have that!"

"Knock-Knock," the sudden rap on the door stops Manu in his tracks.

"Sire? Are you alright? We heard talking..." the guard shifts from one foot to the other. "But not what was said," he says quickly, thinking of the others of late.

"Yes!" he bellows in frustration. "I will be out now. What is it?"

"Nothing, Sire. It is just that you," he pauses. "Have been in there on your own for turns." The guard swallows, a sudden lump in his throat. "We were worried about you, Sire. After the Queen..."

"DO NOT SPEAK OF HER!" he screams, ripping open the aged oaken door. He comes within a fingers length of the guard's bulbous nose; his eyes focus on the dark colour with its tiny green lines running across. He averts his sight upward meeting the smaller man's beady eyes, and notices his balding head; then it hits him. "For the love of Antar! Go and wash." It startles the guard, bringing him out of the trance he did not know he was in.

"Sire?" he asks, confused.

"Get out of my sight and tend to yourself," he says as he marches off towards the winding stairs. The guard just stands there, not sure what has just transpired. As he hears the last of his King's footsteps, he peers into the dungeon cell.

"Let us see who you were talking to." He steps inside a bare and empty cell, the only small comfort; some straw scattered in a damp corner. "What the?"

⛬

Manu strides towards the ancient cave once again. He is hesitant as he stands before the entrance, the smell of death invading his senses once more, but he has no choice, his thousand-strong guard stands behind him. I cannot show weakness at this time. He takes a deep breath, willing his legs to move, his thoughts shouting that they will betray him, making him turn and run. But then gradually, he begins to move.

With the runes no longer visible, he enters the cave and sparks up a torch to light his way. Walking along, he tries to hold his breath unsuccessfully, the stench almost overwhelming to his senses. Attacking him from every angle, it invades every pore and orifice it can find. Bloody cave! Dame you Raygor and all of your sorcery. Reaching a fork, he turns left on instinct, making his way along the smooth-walled cave step by step, his boots crunching under the crumbling remains of the dead.

With the odour strengthening around him he ties a wrap around his face. It does little to block anything, but it helps him trudge on. He finally reaches the cavern entrance but stops, his chest constricts as sudden guilt clutches at his soul.

"No," he whispers, closing his eyes. "It is done. I cannot change it now." He takes the final step inside; it makes his hair stand on end, and his breath instantly visible. With every pace he takes his boots sink ever so slightly into the blood-enriched ground. He steps with care, making sure to avoid the now prone and bloodless bodies scattered all around the cavern.

His eyes strain in the gloom, searching for any sign of the brightstones. "Nothing!" he barks. He examines as much as he can, his feet always shirting around the remnants of his kills. He shakes his head, unable to rid himself of the feeling that has been burning inside since his betrayal. Reluctantly, he makes his way over to where Folknor lies and stops dead; his legs almost buckle and his hands begin to shake as he looks frantically all around. His body is gone without a single trace. "Impossible," he breathes, searching for any sign that someone had been here. Kneeling, he touches the spot where he fed the ground with his lifeblood; his fingers come away still sticky.

"What is going on?" he says aloud. He stands and steps back. He stumbles, almost falling, dropping his torch; it rolls and splutters out, leaving him in darkness. He looks around searching for light as his heart suddenly races; his breath quickening as he starts to sweat. He drops down, searching for the torch to no avail. Then slowly, his vision begins to brighten. He catches a spark off to his right. Still searching, his fingers reach out, grabbing something cold and solid. He holds it up to his eyes, focusing, "what is a grieve doing here?"

He turns his head at the sound of a low popping. There at the centre of the ancient well, a tiny spark has formed. A dull glow emanates slowly, getting brighter with every passing minurn.

Manu swallows, wetting his lips as his mind works harder to realise the situation.

"It did not work," he gasps.