2nd to the Dark Lord (part 2)

My tear-filled eyes met his and I realized he too was crying. "No, son, it isn't your fault. I'm just an old fool looking to lash out at the world for what was taken from me. A youngster like you wouldn't have stood a chance here two years ago. And besides, you weren't after revenge like we were."

It was my turn to get angry. Instantly I was on my feet and my sword pointed dangerously close to the woodsman's face. "How dare you! The Dark Lord took everything from me. He murdered my family. His troops killed everyone I knew. He left me for dead with a reminder of my failure," I said pointing to the scar running down my face. "I devoted the last three years of my life to this! To revenge!" I kicked the metal helmet and listened to it clang down the otherwise silent hallway.

The fallen adventurer spared a moment to look at both his dead companions. "No, you weren't after revenge and deep down you know it. That's why you're so angry. Though consumed by anger you still sought justice, not revenge. True revenge doesn't wait. It must be had, taken, fulfilled immediately. It doesn't care for right or wrong. It is an all-consuming need, a will forced upon your own that urges you forth." He turned away and it was then that I finally saw it, hidden just behind his eyes - shame.

I shook, backing away. "What did you do?"

The other man just shook his head. "Terrible things best not spoken aloud." His head drooped and his eyes started to close. In a second they snapped open again. "Before I die, tell me, young master, what do you plan to do now that the quest is finished? What plans and hopes and dreams did you have had you gotten here a day earlier and killed the Dark Lord your way?"

Slowly, I lowered my sword and dropped to a knee. "Actually, I thought about going back to the village we met at near Kettorak's Bend. I don't know if you remember the musicians at the Golden Hawk Tavern." I lost myself in thought of the minstrel's middle daughter, the lyre plucked delicately in her hands as her voice filled the room while her midnight-black hair shone in the firelight.

The dying man smiled. "Isabel," he said and I felt my face redden at the mention of her name. "She didn't stop talking about you for three days after you left. The handsome traveler who picked her the loveliest bouquet of starlight roses."

I couldn't help but smile at the memory: stumbling nearly blind in the fields outside the village before the dawn broke for the elusive flowers that only reach full bloom just before the sunrise, and unless cut would also die on the stem once touched by the light.

The other man smiled as well. "Love. That's always a good thing to have waiting for you. Perhaps you could settle down with her there. Or perhaps she could accompany you on your travels." Then his smile faded. "I have nothing waiting for me now that I've had my revenge. This, putting a blade into that foul creature's heart was the only thing I wanted. There was only revenge, and now it's best I die."

I shook my head, fighting back tears. "No, it isn't too late. I'm sure I can get you to a healer in time. I might even have something in my pack that could slow the poison." I unslung my bag and pulled it open.

Before I could sort through my salves and antidotes, the other man lurched forward and grabbed my arm tight with the last of his strength. "Do not tell anyone what we did here. We are murderers, nothing more. We're not what the people deserve. They need a hero now more than ever. One that cares about their needs and wants and dreams. Even a dream as silly as a cape made of hawk feathers." His grip weakened and he fell over, never to move again.

I reached out a hand to close his eyes. Then I dragged him and his compatriots into the throne room, placing their bodies more or less at random spots as long as they weren't next to each other. Taking a polearm from the corpse of a guard, I hacked at their limbs, strewing the ones I could sever about the room. I'd solved a murder or two in my travels as well. I assumed the next person to walk in here will just see another group of fallen heroes, victims of the Dark Lord's army. I placed coins upon their eyes along with a prayer that Judgment be merciful, favoring the consequences of their actions over the manner which they chose to bring about the change they sought.

In the end, I left the castle and corpses behind. There was no parade or formal ceremony for me, as neither I nor the other group told anyone about what we were to do this day. Ruling a kingdom had never been a dream of mine. I just wanted to do exactly what I had been doing, traveling through major cities and forgotten villages and helping those in need. And, one day, bring another bouquet of starlight roses to the most beautiful lyrist I'd ever heard play. I just hoped it wouldn't take another three years to get there.

Inspired by the Reddit Writing Prompt (paraphrasing): You spend three years doing side quests but when you finally show up to the Dark Lord's castle you discover another adventuring party defeated him. I was interested in this prompt the moment I saw it about a month ago but it just took longer to write due to all the different drafts it went through. My original had the other adventurers dressed in the armor of the Dark Lord's guard so the main character mistakes them for traitorous guards instead of adventurers. Then I tried to write one that had the main character going through the whole crime scene and explaining how the other group snuck into the throne room and murdered everyone. Finally I decided to take all of that out and have the main character see what happened and confront the other group. Also, the original version included the main character going through the castle and killing all of the guards with items and weapons collected from his 3 years of traveling. But there's a word limit on Reddit (and this one already exceeds it that I needed to split it into two parts) so I figured I'd just cut that out. Sure, I could have added it into this blog post, but really, I'm already trying to write something else so I'm not going to do that.

2nd to the Dark Lord (part 1)

I stopped in my tracks, sword in hand dripping blood on the stone floors of the castle as guards lay dead or dying behind me scattered all the way back to the castle doors. "Did you just say that the Dark Lord is dead?" I asked. Did my last three years - countless quests, riches won and spent, friendships forged and broken, training learned and forgotten, a journey most men might spend a lifetime walking if they could make it at all - did it all really mean nothing?

In front of me paused three adventurers in armor. I watched them turn to each other silently. Behind them, the throne room doors stood shut. The middle adventurer spoke. "Yes, young master, the Dark Lord is dead, slain by our hands. An epic battle the bards and minstrels will sing songs about for years to come." He moved to the side and his companions pushed themselves against the walls. "You're free to gaze upon the monster's corpse if you wish to put your mind at ease that the deed has been done."

I nodded and stepped slowly forward, a journey of a mere ten steps to the throne room doors taking what felt like hours to reach. Finally, I pushed open the doors prepared for the carnage and mayhem that accompanies battle. Instead what I found was neat and tidy, a murder scene. At my feet lay a woman dressed in silks suited for a bedroom than a battlefield with her throat cut and blood soaking her chest. Next to her lay two servants dead in similar fashion. Their blood had pooled and I needed to take a long stride to get across it and further into the room.

At the other end of the hall the throne sat empty though not at all clean. One side had been partially set aflame, fires still eating slowly away at it. Next to it lay the bodies of three royal guards that had taken the brunt of the fire spell, roasted in their armor. On the other side of the throne lay three more guards with their helmets removed. One let out a single cough, spewing a black sludge onto the feet of the throne before going still. Poison, I thought.

In the very center of the throne room lay the Dark Lord's corpse. His hands bound with a thick cord and dark bruising wrapped a line across his throat, signs of a garrotte wire. They wanted him to die and not quickly. Across his chest lay a small boy and pierced through both bodies was the Dark Lord's own sword. I'd recognize it anywhere. The same sword I saw when I closed my eyes at night. The same one that haunts my dreams as it cuts down my family one by one before turning its edge to me and cutting a deep scar down my face and chest. I shiver as the moment replays itself a dozen times in the blink of an eye. That same sword now sat impaled through its owner and his offspring, soaked in their blood and for reasons unknown to me in that moment I feel a stream of tears fall down my cheeks.

I turned back to the women and closed their bewildered eyes. Then I took some copper coins from my purse and placed one on each eyelid. The guards would need more assistance than I could give as the fire partially welded their helmets shut and I feared getting close to the others without knowing the poisons used in their killing. I pulled the sword from the boy and the Dark Lord and placed it on the ground. The boy I lay next to his father, putting two coins on his eyes. For the Dark Lord, I placed two gold pieces, certain it would cost more than the usual fare for the ferryman to take his darkened soul to the Beyond.

I exited the throne room to find the other group of adventurers still standing in the hallway watching me. I glared back. "There was no battle. You just went in there and murdered those people."

Their leader in the middle just shrugged his shoulders. "We did what needed to be done. The kingdom couldn't wait for you to collect feathers before finally committing to your true quest."

I shook my head. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. There's no honor in what was done here today. No justice. Just blood and death. The people will never trust you as their saviors once I tell them the truth. All they'll see is another pack of monsters."

"We can't let you do that," said the adventurer standing on the left as she pulled a throwing knife glistening with poison from her belt. Her companions began to reach for their weapons as well.

Magic, though, is always faster. I activated the Krezteican Ring I won in a high-stakes card game and a wave of invisible energy pushed out around me. The adventurers were tossed backwards except for the one with the knife. She was instead swept up into the air, hitting the ceiling before being slammed back down onto the stone floor with a crunch. She didn't get back up.

The man on the right got to his feet first and launched a fireball in my direction. Thanks to the crime scene I already knew at least one member of their party wielded fire very well. I grabbed the hem of my cloak and pulled it in front of me like a shield, speaking of Word of Power as I did. The fireball hit the cloak with a brilliant flash and then immediately flew back to its caster thanks to the ward stitched into the cloak with golden silk collected from jaguar-spiders of the Crestenting Forest. The man immediately burst into flames, dead before he could even let out a scream.

The leader unsheathed his sword at the same time I drew mine. Our blades clashed in the narrow hallway. Strike, parry, thrust. He was a competent swordsman but he didn't go through the same training I endured at the hands and fists and rods and canes of all the masters I studied under during my three years of travels. He never needed to face down the same gauntlet of bandits and fighters and monsters I slayed.

With a flourish I knocked his sword aside and came down with a strike. Instead of cleaving into his shoulder, the edge of my sword connected with a magical barrier lying an inch above his armor. I swung a fist to keep him off-balance and still hit the magical barrier.

"Dammit, your armor is enchanted," I said backing off a step but careful to avoid tripping over the poisoner's body.

The other man also backed up a step or two and readied himself for another exchange. "My wards and armor will tire you out before you even get a chance to land a killing blow."

I muttered a Word and brushed a hand along the flat of my sword, activating the runes etched in it. Then I charged again with a sword thrust, hoping to shatter his ward and break his armor in one shot. The other man didn't even attempt to to evade or block my attack, instead letting my sword pass his guard and allowing his ward absorb the blow. Instantly, his entire ward flashed a brilliant glow and I could see exactly how it was weaved over his armor.

Suspecting a trick, the other adventurer swung his sword, a killing blow aimed at taking off my head. Instead I dropped my sword and rolled backwards. When I gained my feet, I threw the poisoner's knife as hard as I could. The knife flew through the air and struck true, breaking the  one weak spot in the ward and sinking into a joint between the armor plates.

The other man pulled the knife stuck in his chest. "One of Nadia's knives?" he asked looking at the knife glistening with blood. "Dammit," he said after seeing me give a brief nod. He dropped his sword and sank to the floor with his back propped up against a wall. "How'd you spot the smallest crack in my enchanted armor?"

I stooped to pick up my sword. "When you spend a month collecting hawk feathers in the woods in autumn, there isn't much that can hide from your eyes." Carefully, with my sword, I lifted the helmet off of his head. I dropped to a knee in surprise as the metal helm clanged on the stone. "I know you," I said, staring at the familiar face. "You're the traveling woodsman I met out near Kettorak's Bend."

The woodsman answered me with a glare. "Ah, The Traveler. Off to defeat the Dark Lord you said. Well, looks like me and my party took care of it for you." He spat a glob of phlegm at my feet, already tinged with the black of the poison coursing through him. "And if you had done it like you said you would those two years ago, his troops wouldn't have slaughtered my family last month."

I hung my head, feeling tears starting to well up in my eyes. "I'm so sorry about your family. I knew I needed to get stronger before facing him so I traveled the kingdom to hone my skills. But everywhere I went people needed my help, and I couldn't turn my back on people in need or what kind of hero would I be."

Books of 2020: Quarter 2

Books from the past three months. I somehow managed to finish up the last 8 books of the Dresden Files. Could be from newfound free time that I should be using to be more productive, or maybe re-reading is always faster. I wouldn't know, surprisingly since this is my first-time re-reading these books.

Proven Guilty by Jim Butcher

"Black magic means a black practitioner of some kind, and they tended to be the sorts of people who were both happy to kill and interfering wizard and able to manage it."

"'Rule number one of the wizarding business,' I said. 'Never let them see you sweat. People expect us to know things. It can be a big advantage. Don't screw it up by looking like you're as confused as everyone else. Bad for the image.'"

Harry Dresden is given an ominous message from a senior member of the White Council that someone is using black magic in Chicago. As a newly recruited/drafted warden of the council, it is Dresden's duty to hunt down the practitioner and deal with him or her. The case becomes personal when all signs point at the troubled daughter of his friend and ally. Dresden steps in to protect her from fear-eating monsters that she called upon, but can he also protect her from the judgement of the White Council?

The cases that become personal to Dresden are typically my favorite since it doesn't just become a client that could lose, but someone Dresden is familiar with (a friend or family member) could die and that always raises the stakes slightly. It also means that he takes the actions of his enemies personally and acts in a more serious, and typically violent nature, making the action better. Plus, at the end of it all, Dresden enters the next phase of wizarding: taking on an apprentice.

White Night by Jim Butcher

"When he came back out, the smile was gone. We got suited up. Swords and guns and grey cloaks and staves and magical gewgaws left and right, yeehaw. One of these days, I swear, as long as I'm playing supernatural sheriff of Chicago, I'm getting myself some honest-to-God spurs and a ten-gallon hat."

Harry Dresden has been busy with his new duties as Warden of the White Council fighting the war against the Red Court Vampires, training new wardens, and hunting down warlocks, as well as training his new apprentice. Too busy, unfortunately, to notice female practitioners turning up dead throughout Chicago. Others are being seen in the company of a tall man in a grey cloak before they vanish, a man very much resembling a warden, Dresden himself, or his brother Thomas, a White Court vampire. Could his brother be back to hunting humans as his family does? Or are there other monsters on the prowl?

Do you want vampires to be the pale, beautiful creatures depicted in Twilight compared to the monstrous bat-like creatures usually featured in The Dresden Files? Well, you'll like this book in the series. Though it isn't the first time the Vampire White Court is introduced (see Death Masks), it does go further in depth into the different Houses that make up the White Court as well as how they operate compared to the other Vampire Courts. The Whites feed upon human emotion (Thomas and his family prefer lust, other Houses feed on fear and despair). And not only does this one have an actual, formal duel, but the best team-up: Dresden and Gentlemen John Marcone, the infamous Chicago mobster.

Small Favor by Jim Butcher

"At one time in my life, a shapeshifted, demonically possessed maniac crashing through a window and trying to rip my face off would have come as an enormous and nasty surprise.

But that time was pretty much in the past."

"I followed the trail of smitten fiends. Smiten fiends? Smited fiends? Smoted fiends? Don't look at me. I never finished high school. Maybe learning the various conjugations of to smite had been in senior-year English. It sure as hell hadn't been on my GED test."

Harry Dresden is given the opportunity by Mab, Queen of the Winter Fae, to settle the second of three debts he owes to her: investigate the kidnapping of John Marcone, crime lord of Chicago's underworld and a newly signed baron of The Accords. When it's discovered that the kidnappers were the Knights of the Blackened Denarius, Dresden sets out to rescue Marcone despite their differences. If fighting against Fallen Angels wasn't hard enough the Summer Fae have sent their own champions to foil Dresden's efforts.

This book felt like a jumble of different storylines blended together as if a lot of things either needed to be tied up from previous books or needing to be set up for future stories. That said, I did like seeing how the supernatural Powers/Nations interact with each other. I think it is one of the first books that we get to see a lot of the different supernatural entities at once instead of just presented one at a time. Introduced in previous books, The Accords is a document that governs the relationships between supernatural entities as a way to keep the peace. In this book we get to see the Denarians violate The Accords by abducting Marcone, the first mortal to have signed onto the Accords. Though Mab is acting against this violation, the Summer Fae still must send someone to oppose her efforts as summer must always oppose winter. And, since the Denarians are involved, of course, the Knights of the Cross also arrive to oppose them. By involving Dresden and the White Council, Mab brings in another Accorded Nation to resolve the challenge.

Turn Coat by Jim Butcher

"'They aren't invulnerable. They can be killed.'....

'How'd you do it?' I asked, without looking behind me...

'It was the fifties,' he said. 'Started in New Mexico. It followed me to Nevada. I lured it onto a government testing site, and stepped across into the Nevernever just before the bomb went off.'

I blinked and looked over my shoulder at him. 'You nuked it?'"

"If I was going to die, it was going to be a bloody and spectacular mess.

'Bring it!' I screamed back at the naagloshii, my terror and rage making my voice sharp and high and rough. I cupped my right hand as if preparing to throw a baseball, drew up my will, and filled my palm with scarlet fire. I thrust out my left hand and ran my will through the shield bracelet handing there, preparing a defense, and as I did I felt the power of the land beneath my feet, felt it spreading out around me, drawing in supportive energy. 'Bring it! Bring it, you dickless freak!'"

Warden Morgan pursued Harry Dresden for most of his life, suspecting him of dabbling in black magic and a potential, if not already, warlock. When Morgan shows up bloody and beaten at Dresden's home looking for sanctuary from the White Council's wardens, Dresden lets him in. Knowing Morgan's fanatical commitment to the White Council and the Laws of Magic, Dresden believes Morgan's innocence and sets out to find who framed Morgan. Of course, life is never as simple as dealing with one problem at a time as Dresden must also deal with a naagloshii, a Native American shapeshifting monster, that is also hunting down the injured warden.

Though the main plot is figuring out who the real traitor within the White Council really is, my main interest in the story was the fight against the naagloshii. Besides the Fallen Angels, the naagloshii was the most formidable foe Dresden has faced in a while. Not only can it shapeshift into different animals, but it transform different parts of its body to suit its needs; it is almost impervious to magic and can cast spells as well; it is physically superior to not just human beings but other supernatural entities such as vampires; and, worst of  all, all it cares about is inflicting pain against others.

Changes by Jim Butcher

"Monsters who had taken my child.

The man once wrote: Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger. Tolkein had that one mostly right.

I stepped forward, let the door bang closed, and snarled, 'Fuck subtle.'...

Silver-white fire howled down the hallway and bit into the corner ahead, blowing through it as easily as a bullet through a paper target."

"I growled as a column of pure rage rose up my spine and made my voice rough. 'I will make Maggie safe. If the world burns because of that, then so be it. Me and the kid will roast some marshmallows.'"

When Susan Rodriguez calls Harry Dresden to let him know that the Red Court vampires have kidnapped their daughter, Dresden immediately knows what he's going to do - he's going to get his daughter back no matter the costs.

To compare this book to TV shows, this is the season finale of The Walking Dead when Shane gets back up as a zombie despite not being bitten; it's the season one finale of Killing Eve when Eve stabs Villanelle as they're lying in bed together; it's this past season finale of Prodigal Son when Ainsley slits Endicott's throat. It's that "Holy Shit!" episode that just keeps you reading because you need to know how this whole thing ends. Changes wraps up the ongoing war between the Red Court vampires and the White Council that started in book three, so of course, this is the epic climax.

Ghost Story by Jim Butcher

"Besides, there was one more thing that made me certain that I wanted to go back. At the end of the day ... some son of a bitch had freaking killed me

That's not the kind of thing you can just let stand."

"'Aaaaaaaagh!' I screamed, emerging from the wards and onto Murphy's front lawn, chock-ful of new insight as to why ghosts are always moaning or wailing when they come popping out of somebody's wall or floor. Not much mystery there - it freaking hurts."

In the aftermath of Changes, Harry Dresden finds himself a ghost in Chicago months after his death. Given a chance to either move on to the hereafter or return to the mortal realm to investigate his own death, Dresden returns to Chicago especially if it means helping his friends. He'll need to navigate his new situation and surroundings quickly if he wants to stop a horde of murderous ghosts and one particular ghost determined to re-enter the land of the living.

As I said of Grave Peril, I'm not a fan of ghost stories. Having Dresden drop in power level as he navigates a temporary existence as a ghost made for a slower read. This book mostly felt like a reflection for Dresden to come to terms with the events of Changes and the hard choices he needed to make, as well as set-up the next season of The Dresden Files with a new enemy and new allies.

Cold Days by Jim Butcher

"Mab made a low, hungry sound in her throat as she leaned down, until her lips were almost touching my ear.

'I have no use for weakness, wizard.' She shivered in a kind of slow, alien ecstasy. 'Rest. Heal. Sleep. I shall most likely kill you on the morrow.'

'You? A Princess Bride quote?' I croaked.

"'Thwart,' I said. 'To prevent someone from accomplishing something by means of visiting gratuitous violence upon his smarmy person.'"

Harry Dresden is back in the world of the living to fulfill his bargain with Mab, Queen of the Winter Fae, as her Winter Knight. Her first task is an impossible one: kill another immortal. At the same time, Dresden discovers the new enemy literally at their gates: The Outsiders, a collection of entities not of this universe seeking to come in and kill everyone. Dresden needs to figure out how to get the job done quick as he's being pursued by enemies both within the Winter and Summer Fae Courts but also by The Outsiders and their allies.

Honestly, Cold Days was kind of forgettable in terms of plot. The newest revelation is the coming of the Outsiders as the new Big Bad Enemy. Dresden takes time to get used to being alive again and once again meeting with old friends. My favorite part comes with the return of the Wild Hunt, a supernatural phenomenon depicted as hunters on horseback surrounded by hounds that sweeps along the mortal world unseen either killing anyone it encounters or forcing them to join in the hunt.

Skin Game by Jim Butcher

"'Who?' I asked him. 'Whose vault are you knocking over?'

'An ancient being of tremendous power,' he replied in his roughened voice, his smile widening. "You may know him as Hades, the Lord of the Underworld.'"

"Michael approached me with his eyes wide and said, 'Dear God in Heaven, Harry. That was amazing. I've never seen you move so quickly.'

'Yeah,' I said. 'There aren't many perks to being the Winter Knight, but that's one of them.'

'Did you shout 'Parkour'?' Michael asked.

'Well, sure,' I said. 'That was kinda Parkour-like.'

Michael fought to keep a smile off his face. 'Harry,' he said, 'I'm almost certain one doesn't shout 'Parkour.' I believe one is supposed to simply do Parkour.'"

To fulfill a debt to Nicodemus (leader of those possessed by Fallen Angels), Mab loans out the services of her new Winter Knight, Harry Dresden. The job is a simple one: break into a vault and steal the contents inside. Except the vault they want isn't on the mortal plane, it's in the Underworld ... and it belongs to Hades. Of course, whatever Nicodemus has planned for the contents of the vault can't be good, and so Dresden must find a way to foil his plans while still fulfilling his queen's word.

It had to come eventually and it didn't disappoint: a supernatural heist! Of course, there's the standard, introduce the team and their abilities, plus Dresden gets to bring in some friends to watch his back. As usually, something will always go wrong and Dresden will need to find a way to save his friends while still maintaining his cover within the group. And of course, the thing that the group is after isn't really what the job is about.