HavenGuarde

Chapter 89 - Exile

Chapter 89

Exile

- The world is broken, and so, into exile I must go -

"You have failed me."

Those harsh words echoed across the grand chamber, reverberating in the vast hall. Multi-levels ringed with hundreds upon hundreds of seats filled the upper parts of the chamber. Walls of polished black were decked with thick curtains of red and portraits of men, war and blood. Hundreds of heavily armed black-clad and armoured patrolmen took up guarding positions all around the circumference of the hall. 

Two men kneeled upon the long red carpet that stretched from the archway door, ending only before the mini-steps leading up to the giant chair of polished black. And upon that chair sat the governor of the realms of HavenGuarde.

"My Lord...", said one of the men, with his head bowed low to the ground. His forearms were massive and the muscles around his neck were thick. But despite the man's obvious physical strength, his lower lip trembled slightly, in fear. "My Lord, you were not there to see...if...if I had known that Lord Starlassor was aiding us from the inside...I did not know...". 

"Silence", whispered the governor softly, and immediately, the room plummeted into an icy silence. Genevar Winterborne, governor of the realms of HavenGuarde rose from his chair of black and descended the steps to stand before the two kneeling men with arms clasped before him. His steely blue eyes glittered with anger.

This is not good, thought the tall and handsome man who stood leaning upon a giant stone pillar. Not good at all. 

"We, the Unity, gave you an opportunity Sigmourne", continued Genevar Winterborne, as he looked down upon the two men. "And my patience is ever so...thin."

Genevar sighed and clenched his teeth together, tilting his head from side to side, as if deciding what to do next.

"I know you have in your possession a most beautiful pair of gauntlets", said Genevar suddenly. "Put them on."

"My Lord...please...I am sorry", whimpered Lord Beefheart. "Please."  

"Put them on", repeated Genevar Winterborne softly, and Lord Beefheart did as he was commanded. "You know I do not like repeating myself."

Lord Beefheart uneasily reached into his robes to pull out a red pair of gauntlets.

"Good", acknowledged Genevar Winterborne coolly. "Now, hold out your left hand."

"Please...", whimpered Lord Beefheart, his body shaking with fear, as he lifted his left hand and held it out.

Genevar stood before Lord Beefheart's outstretched hand.

"Thy hand shall be penance for your failure", said Genevar Winterborne, backing away but gesturing to the man a moment ago, leaned against a stone pillar. "The offering is accepted."

A shadow covered Lord Beefheart who looked up to see the figure of Dimitri Skaron, commander of the realms of HavenGuarde before him, wearing a look of almost-pity. A long, jagged blade appeared in his hands and Lord Beefheart watched as the jagged edges of the blade cut through air, muscle, sinew and bone.

Blinking rapidly, Lord Beefheart saw his left arm twitching on the ground, blood streaming profusely from where it had been disconnected from a now open stump. His left fist was still gauntleted. He screamed and screamed in pain, bellowing hoarsely. He fell onto the floor, saliva frothing from his mouth.