The dim light of the city lamps
never seemed less necessary. The higher part of Ebonhedge was now directly
facing the moon, whose pale brilliance illuminated the city, making all the
streets shine bright as during the day. Yet no light is cast without shadow,
and the shadows of the moon grow long and dark. Those cast by the city’s
numerous towers helped obscure the paths of those who consider themselves
allies of the night. The thief was one of them. He’d hidden somewhere in the
city, and if it were anyone else trying to find him, the trace would surely be
lost on them. We, however, had the crystal eye to guide us.
“It’s over here,” I said as the eye
glowed whiter and whiter as we approached a dark alley so hidden away in the
shadows that even in the eye’s light it appeared to be a dark void of nothing. “The
strongest light yet.”
“But where did he go?” Cillian
asked. The light illuminated his pale face, twisted in confusion.
“Must be an entrance here
somewhere,” I muttered as I approached one of the stone walls. I touched it and
glanced around, only to hear the sound of metal creaking behind me. I turned
around to see Isolde had pressed something, and the wall in front of her had
opened to reveal a dark staircase.
“Once again, I have to do all the
work,” she smirked.
“Ye only found it because he was no
more than a hair taller than ye,” I muttered as I held out the eye in the
staircase. Indeed, the light was getting stronger. We were getting closer.
“While it may be true that the
switch was in my reach, I would have found this staircase under any other
circumstances anyway.”
“Impressive, Lady Isolde,” Cillian
said in half a whisper as he followed me down the staircase. The echoing steps
and the sound of dripping water in the distance did little to keep up at ease.
In silence, we descended, lower and lower, down into an endless abyss. Yet the
closer we were to the bottom, the lighter the crystal eye shined. I hanged it
around my neck again and hid it under my tunic, worrying the light might give
away our position much sooner than before.
We had discussed the potential
battle plan beforehand. A band of thieves could pose quite a danger, so we
couldn’t take any chances. I went first with Nevermore perched on my shoulder.
Once we reached the dwelling, he would fly around the vicinity to give me a
proper look of the place. If it was safe, I would launch smoke potion to
confuse our enemies, after which Cillian would leap out in his animal form.
Isolde would stay by my side as we both searched the place for the sword. It
soon turned out we’d anticipated too much.
At the bottom we found the den of a
group of bandits, as was to be expected. Sacks of stolen goods were laid out
below the walls, and on top of them lay four chubby men of short stature,
similar enough to be brothers. They were fast asleep. I went on my toes to
check if I could locate the sword before I woke them, but then, suddenly, the
beast leapt into the middle of the room, its auburn mane ruffled and
threatening, and let out a piercing howl. The brothers jumped up as they woke
and screamed, three of them squeezing into holes in the walls that I had not
noticed before. The fourth one, however, did not run and pulled out a long
sword out of a sheath on his back. It was black as night, its edge was jagged,
ancient writing adorned its blade. I had the feeling as if I had seen the blade
before.
“Stay back, fiend!” the thief shouted
out to Cillian. He was struggling to have himself sound imposing, but his
shaking legs revealed his true feelings. “Stay back, I warn ye!”
“Take the bloody blade, Cillian, and
let’s be off,” Isolde shouted. “Ye can hack his head off with one bite. Let’s
waste no more time.”
“But I-“ Cillian said in protest.
Clearly he had reservations about killing a human. But before the thief managed
to notice the hesitation in the creature’s eyes, he started shouting.
“Mighty Dullahan, hear my plea!” He
was holding the ebony blade above his head, and as he uttered the name, the
sword shone a pale light. “Keep me safe, rescue me.”
“Dullahan?” Cillian whispered and
took a step back. If he were not in the guise of an animal, judging by his
voice, I’m certain his face would have turned pale with terror. It was no
wonder. Dullahan was a name that was most well known in the North where the
lumberjack had come from. The black rider on a pale mare, wherever he went
there was only disease and desolation. A hero of many northern folk tales, he
was a demon that in the past had laid waste to many a country. I now knew why I
recognized the blade.
“Your wish is granted,” a voice came
from the middle of the room. A white flash blinded me, the earth grumbled, and
when I could finally opened my eyes, the thief was nowhere to be seen. Instead,
I saw him. A tall, imposing figure,
clad in ornate black robes stood there. His skin was pitch black and seemed to
absorb all the light around it. The hair on his head and beard looked darker
still. The only bright feature on his face where his large, yellow eyes of a
wildcat. The moment he materialized, I was filled with an immense sense of
dread – a feeling that I had not felt in many long years. He glanced around the
room and when he spotted me, another bright feature gleamed in the darkness.
His fangs were white as snow and as he twisted them in a crooked grin toward
me, he took a bow, and uttered a growl-like laugh.
“Do my eyes deceive me now?” he said
with a voice as deep as the abyss, as if a thousand snakes hissed with him as
he spoke, sending visible shivers down Cillian’s back. “It has been eons,
Matoya.”
“I could say the same, Byleth,” I
said to him as I gripped Isolde’s hand tightly, beckoned Nevermore to perch on
my shoulder with the other, and glanced at Cillian, signaling him to come
closer to me. In my heart of hearts, I prayed for a miracle, as I knew there
was no other way we could all make it out of this alive.
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