Hidden in the Shadows, Chris Wilson [phonics reader txt] 📗

Chapter 1

He was alone.

All alone. He smiled, wondering how this could have happened to him. He was a tall, well-built young man. He was well in shape, and well-practiced in the arts of melee fighting. With hand-to-hand combat, and heavy sword, spear, lance, dagger, battle-axe, throwing-knife, and mace training, he could not comprehend defeat. He had passed the tests with flying colors, he had spent several years in training, and had been building his strength for as long as he could remember. To fail.
He remembered how it happened, of course. He kept replaying it over and over in his mind. There he had been, wearing his plant-green armor: dark-green, iron-covered boots, strong yet flexible green plate-legs, multi-layered, green, powerful chest-plate, dark-green chain-mail-covered arms, dark-green, strong, steel-coated gloves, and a green helmet that no sword could penetrate. With a mace in one hand and a shield in the other, and two swords with three spears strapped to his back, he felt invincible. Thanks to his training, it hardly weighed him down at all, though he didn’t exactly feel like running a mile or two with the stuff on.
All to be defeated.
There he had been, wearing his plant-green armor, viewing his target: a castle so large he considered it to be a fortress. It was nighttime, and the silhouettes of the many guards were shown, thanks to lit torches upon the walls. About ten stories high, the castle was swarming with guards like an anthill would with angry ants. These weren’t the dime-a-dozen guards who knew how to raise the alarm and swing a sword. These were professionals: trained killers who had spent a good portion of their life dedicated to learning the arts of their weapon. He could beat one, maybe two. But they would overwhelm him with numbers, he knew.
All to be defeated.
There he had been, wearing his plant-green armor, viewing his target, and reviewing his information. “Find the hidden castle. It can be found if you follow the road that heads through Dark Forest-- follow the torches at night. Once found, survey and understand the protection levels in guarding. Prepare yourself for battle and move in. You can invade in any way or form you please, so long as you complete the main objective: rescue the prisoner in the deepest dungeon. There will be no lighting down there. Speak, “Fear is the enemy” to the prisoner and he will explain on how to get him out. Treat him as an ally. Once the main objective is complete, get out of there. They will resist. Plan accordingly.”
All to be defeated.
There he had been, wearing his plant-green armor, viewing his target, and reviewing his information. Once he was sure he had found a blind spot in the guarding patterns, he had moved in, sword in one hand, battle-axe in the other. He had trusted his armor to protect him from anything that passed his weapons. A symbol dimly glowed black on the ground, right between the main gate and the secondary gate:



He hadn’t paid much attention to it then, but now he stopped his train of thoughts and dwelled on the mysterious symbol. It had been glowing black, he was sure, yet he had seen it from outside the main gate at midnight. It was almost as if it had been darker then its surroundings, making it stand out. Well, of course he hadn’t paid attention to it then. He was busy fighting for his life against those guards. His mind returned to them.
So he had moved in. He didn’t care too much about being caught, so long as he could smash his way through the guards with enough time remaining to get inside the castle before the gate was drawn. But, the moment he left his cover behind him and moved into the open, the guards went from patrol mode to defend mode. No sound or alarm had rung, no flame had been lit, and yet all the guards were immediately aware of his presence. Pushing that thought aside, he had come leering up towards them, as they formed a defensive line. He thought he recognized the phalanx from his training.
He should have given up then. The opponent had been obviously aware of his presence, and had quite the defensive line formed. Even so, he recklessly charged into the battle. He had to give himself some credit, as he had taken down three to five guards. Out of twenty-five or so. That didn’t improve his mood. When he looked back though, he realized the only reason he had taken out three of them was because the defensive line didn’t fight back at first. They had little reaction to his attack, to a point. Then they took him down and made him a prisoner-- upon a silent command of sorts, he supposed.
Well, he could only hope his friend would come to save him. They could probably get it without being noticed. After all, they’d had years more training in stealth and such. How long would it take them to find and rescue him? Well, he supposed it would take about a day to realize he was missing, and that’s only if his superiors had notified the world of his disappearance. With his superiors help, they could find and save him about a day and a half past his capture. Without... It might take up to a week. They were a good tracker, he knew, but when would they get started on the trail?
He guessed he had been prisoner here for about 12 hours. His belly confirmed the idea-- it had definitely been a while since he enjoyed some food. He wondered if his captors would feed him.

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A noise awoke him. Someone was whispering his name. “Lance! ...Lance!” Lance knew the voice.
“Aurelia! Is that truly you?” Lance whispered back. There was a scuffling movement, and Lance caught a glimpse of Aurelia’s face-- or rather, what was on her face. She was wearing one of her masks, as usual. She had once tried to teach him masks’ importance and such, but he found them to be annoying to keep on his face. He preferred a helmet.
Aurelia was of medium height, and about a head shorter than he was. She was very thin and light on her feet, and seemed tiny when next to Lance. But she was far from weak, he had learned. In a mock fight with her, she had taken him down. She had light armor that seemed to blend in with most any surroundings, but she didn’t usually need her amor. Instead of taking hits like he did, she moved around them. She was never still longer than a second in a fight. She preferred to use two knives for melee combat, one longer than the other, which had taken down many opponents.
But her real skills were in archery. If it was within sight, it could be hit by her. And, thanks to her armor and training, she was near impossible to locate if she didn’t want to be found. She was usually in the outskirts of a battle, until she found an opening she needed to get farther in without being seen, or sometimes by killing the few who would have seen her. Usually at the turning point in a battle, when the defense has rallied their troops to best efficiency and the offense was considering retreat, something important to the defense would explode in a glorious burst of fire and arrows would begin raining down upon the tightly packed defense.
If you ever caught Aurelia without a mask, which very few of her friends could say they had done, you would find a pretty girl with long black hair. She had very pale white skin, because her skin was rarely exposed to the sun. She wore all sorts of colors of armor, but each seemed well-made to blend in. She was currently wearing a blue mask, with intricate symbols and markings all over it, with grey armor. She was smiling, he was sure, though her mask showed no sign of it.
“Hey, let’s get you out of here,” she whispered as she moved closer to the bars to Lance’s cell. When she approached, she was quiet, but wasn’t being cautious of being found. But the holding room he was in seemed empty, save for him and her. She took out a small tool, and began sawing on the lock. Within a minute, Aurelia had it broken, and opened the door wide to let him out. Lance stood gratefully, and almost immediately collapsed. He was extremely weak from hunger.
“What’s wrong?” Aurelia demanded with worry in her voice.
“Hunger. I’m starving.” Lance grunted back. Aurelia reached into her small bag which she keeps tied to her boot, and took out some bread.
“It won’t taste the best, but it’s better than nothing. We’ll get you a nice hot meal when we get back. But first, we have to complete your ‘main objective’. Let’s go free this prisoner.” Lance grunted in agreement. He had completely forgotten about the main objective. He quickly stuffed down the food, muttered thanks to Aurelia, and left his holding cell. He followed her out, and they reached a spiral staircase going both up and down. She paused for a moment, then chose down.
“Did you see the marking on the ground on the way in?” Aurelia asked him. He remember the strange symbol.
“Yea, but what it means or how it got there is beyond me.” Lance answered. She paused, then answered him.
“I don’t know either. I just hope this prisoner won’t slow us down more than you do.” She said.
“Where are all the guards?” Lance remembered.
“I truly don’t know. I was watching them, and they all sudden withdrew from their posts and went somewhere. I haven’t seen one since I entered. Normally I would suspect a trap, but something tells me otherwise. This whole business worries me, let’s get out ASAP.” She said. Lance muttered in agreement. This whole time they had been descending the staircase, it had been getting darker, and unless he was imagining it, colder. There were torches along the wall every here and there, but it was mostly dark the entire way down. Then the staircase ended, and they began walking down a corridor. At the end, a huge door dominated all around it. It had originally been painted a bold white color, but the painting had chipped and melted to show black, charred wood in many places. The door may have once been friendly, but now it was ominous.
“It’s like 10 degrees down here! I mean... look at that!” Aurelia exclaimed. She pointed to a torch on the wall, and Lances’ eyes widened. There was a flame there, but it was encased in ice. Somehow it kept burning, though the ice was very solid.
“That’s... not natural,” Lance mumbled. Suddenly, it went pitch-black; the torches had been extinguished. With a grunt and some shuffling, Aurelia took out two rocks she had in her bag. She struck them together, sending sparks into the air, until she had lit a torch held in her hand.
“Where’d you get the torch?” Lance asked.
“One of the things I keep with me,” She replied. The torch illuminated the door, now totally frozen solid, with icicles hanging off the handle. All the torches along the wall were completely encased in ice, and there were stalactites and stalagmites everywhere. “This happened rather quickly,” Aurelia muttered doubtfully.
Lance walked up to the door, and pressed his ear against it. Suddenly, there was an incredible flash of flame, and Lance