The Island With No Parallel

Deals and Contracts

Prince Renen entered the dungeon where the summoning was to be held, a flame flickering in the center of the room, torches ablaze all around him. He took in a breath. It was time. His uncle nodded at his side.

Renen looked to Lord Sherwood. "Open the portal."

The man raised his staff above the flames, tracing a circle in golden light, the air shimmering in the middle until the faces of the Dark Generals appeared before them.

"You called?" In unison they spoke into their minds, all with their eyes closed except for the General of Greed, who had already been awoken. And now for the second.

"Yes, I did. We have met the requirements for the General of Fear."

"Ah, yes." Fear's face grew to fit the size of the portal, the other faces disappearing. "So the young prince returns. What have you brought me, I wonder?"

Renen felt a low rumble that sent a buzz through the air. Laughter.

"Evidence of the death of Luca Valentini."

With the wave of his hand, the prince signaled for the Arac soldiers to bring forth what his messenger Dark One had brought. Bloodied clothes, the stain of red heaviest in the chest section of the shirt, but blood generously spread on other areas as well. A lot of it was real, but much more was splattered over it from the buckets of bloody water the messenger also brought to paint the picture of a very grizzly death. A favorite of the Dark Ones, so hopefully more convincing.

No. Hope had nothing to do with it. In this moment, Renen was in control, and he would show no weakness. It was time for him to emerge from the shadow of his uncle and be his own man. He was the King of his father's nation, and the ruler of his own destiny. He finally understood what his uncle was trying to teach him in his training all this time. As an Arac, he had to see himself as their master, or fall to the Dark Ones the moment he showed weakness. He had what it took to complete this summoning. There was no hoping about it.

He picked up the soiled clothes and threw it into the fire, the rumbling growing louder as the General of Fear chuckled, his still face curling with the upturn of his lips. "Hmmm... Yes... I can taste it. The blood of the Chosen. More. I want more! Where is his body? Throw it into the flames. I wish to consume it myself."

Lord Stretton looked to his nephew, raising an eyebrow challengingly. But Renen didn't need the encouragement. He would not falter.

"No. We've already met with the terms of the agreement, Fear. You'd better be glad we decided to follow through with the change in the deal as it is. You got what you wanted, now hold up your end of the–"

His breath was cut off, a cold feeling creeping into his mind as Fear's influence started trying to paralyze his mind. His torso lurched forward, his icy hands grasping Renen's colar and bringing him close to the bony face of the Dark General, his very presence turning Renen's breath into mist.

"All I see here is blood. That may have sufficed for the General of Greed, but his requirement was not any particular death. The evidence that you conquered a nation in blood is clear by your very presence here in this castle. But my request was specific. I have the right to demand further proof. If you don't know how to manage a proper dealing, I shall teach you the hard way."

Renen had to push the images of horror that began to fill his mind away, forcing his tongue free enough to speak. "I-I-I am n-not a child."

With every last bit of presence of mind, his hand inched to his sword. With the cold metal in his grasp, he batted away the General's hands, dropping to the floor.