Crossfire Cp.32

OAKVALE
275 YEARS AGO:

Victor Ashfield brayed against the door to his sibling's cabin, clenching his fists tightly until the knuckles were a distinct shade of white. Henry had always flaunted his success, whilst dismissing his younger brother's more noble profession relentlessly, but it had never stopped the young bounty hunter from continuing his work.  And it had never really bothered Victor very much...until now.

But now, Henry was taking his place--his spot as guest of honor at the harvest feast. A spot reserved for the most valuable member of the Oakvale community; the person whom the entire village would fail without. For almost ten years, that had been Victor's honor--but now his greedy older brother had stolen it away from him.

Henry opened the door with a cold grin.

"Why hello Victor. I take it you heard?"

"What is the meaning of this Henry!? You know that the guest of honor has always been my position!"

"Until the better man came along, that is. What can I say? I guess that Farmer Ben finally came to his senses." The older sibling shrugged, a mocking cruelty laced within his dark eyes.

"What the hell's that even supposed to mean Henry?! Everyday, I protect this village with my very life! All you've ever done, is trade with Orchard Farm in a desperate attempt to kiss up to the farmer there!"

"Yes, and it's because of all that 'kissing up', that I have made Oakvale the richest and most powerful farming community in Albion, brother! Now that both of the farm holders and I have entered our little partnership, we alone control the harvests nationwide." Henry gloated, his tone incredibly condescending.

"Whenever anyone buys from a food stall now, be it in Bowerstone or Bloodstone, we three shall get all of the profits and split them accordingly. Do you even know what that means Victor? It means that Oakvale's economy will skyrocket! I've just put this sleepy burg on the map; and that, little brother, is why Ol' Farmer Ben chose me for the position of guest of honor. But I've always known that it's been a long time coming..."

That did it. With tenacious fury, Victor lunged at his older brother. But Henry merely shoved him aside. The younger sibling hit the dirt road with a thud. Fury burned within Victor's glassy green eyes, his dirty fingernails digging into the earth.

"I have saved countless people, killed horrible monsters that would have happily spilt your blood, and this is the respect you have to show me?!" The young man berated through clenched teeth.

"You don't deserve respect Victor; and you never will. See you at the harvest festival!" The older brother then laughed, before slamming the door.

Victor's downcast green eyes, began to gleam wickedly.

"Yes...Indeed you shall, brother..."

******************************

Shovel in hand, Victor walked into the open field of the meadow. The sun was still high in the sky, plenty of time to find the buried silver box he sought. A deep feeling of guilt was welling up inside of him. He hadn't ever wanted to lie to Cammila, he would rather die than cause her shame or sadness. But Henry had to be taught a lesson.

For the last fifteen years, his materialistic brother had been making the young man's life a misery. Hateful thoughts now teased and pricked at the corners of the hero's subconscious, provoking him into breaking that promise. For the greater good, they lied. For the greater good.

Henry has never even seen a balverine up close, he would probably scream in terror if he was forced to do battle with one.

Foolish old coot...why would Farmer Ben give him my spot?! Just for becoming a successful farmer?

I still don't understand why that's anywhere near as important as my job. Let alone more so.

CLANG!

Victor's shovel found something hard upon his next scoop of earth. The young man got to his knees and pawed his way through the rest of the dirt and gravel, until the sun glimmered against the tip of the abandoned silver case. Shakily, Victor retrieved the box from its muddy prison, and opened it. The ancient tome was still there, and just as he had left it eight years earlier.

"Alright. Now to find that page." He murmured, thumbing through the book.

He knew exactly what spell he sought. It was the one that he had first read when he had found the book in the costal cavern. Victor shuddered as the disturbing visage of Xaiver crept into view. To this day, Victor still had no clue as to how his old friend could have survived the group of guards who had been sent to arrest him, nor how he had come to use magic so proficiently.

As his hand flipped pages, Victor pulled back and winced at the sudden paper cut along his index finger. As the blood left his hand, it trickled across the exposed page, and edged its way down. Victor looked as his blood decorated the tome in a sick red drizzle. It was then that he realized that he had found the spell, however inadvertently it had been. The young man cleared his throat, and began to recite the incantation upon the bloodied page.

The softness of a baby's skin, in time shall fade away.

The blueness of a maiden's eyes, will one day turn to grey.

Even the bravest warrior can be slaughtered by his foe.

But if you utter these few words, such fate thou never know.

The book fell away from his trembling hands to the unearthed soil at his feet. Victor gasped as the meadow began to glow an eerie black. The color escaped from the once lovely hillside. Victor remained frozen as every color, from the yellow buttercups, to the deep brown of an old oak tree dissipated into greys, whites and blacks. Thick black walls began to rise out of the ground, crushing trees and brush in their wake. As the walls grew higher and more intimidating, Victor took a frightened step back, and reached for his quiver.

"What's going on?" He managed, pulling free an arrow, although he was unsure what to aim at.

The black walls seemed to be harmless. Finally, they came to a halt, eighty feet off the ground, coming to sharp, candlelit spires at the top. Victor took another step away.

Perhaps I read the wrong spell. What could such a ominous dwelling have to do with immunity from sickness and death?

He was about to receive his answer. Three black shades appeared before him as his book dissolved into the ground. Victor aimed his bow at the largest entity, and fired. But his arrow careened through the spirit, lodging itself in the oak trees thick trunk instead.

"W-what do you three creatures want with me?" Victor stammered. The ghosts spoke in deep ancient voices, full of authority and malice.

"Who dares to summon the three demons of the Shadow Court?" Asked the largest of the three spirits.

"I did, but it was a mistake. I was trying to get immunity for sickness and death." Victor explained.

The three ghosts looked at each other, and their fiery red eyes narrowed.

"You have read the incantation correctly, mortal. For we can indeed give you such immunity."

"Wonderful!"

"But...it shall come at a high price." The demon continued to address Victor.

"What price is this?"

"What can you give us mortal?"

Victor thought about it. He was a poor man, with no land, nor crops. He sighed. It was looking more and more like the ghostly monsters would not be able to help him.

"I am but a poor bounty hunter. I have only my family and my love of this village. I am sorry, there is nothing that I can offer you."

The ghosts looked at one another again. Victor sheathed his bow and began to walk back towards the center of the village. The harvest feast would be starting soon.

Oh well, I might as well get Henry's gloating over with. He groaned, filled with bitter disappointment.

"Wait!" Called the lead demon. "We will be able to grant you your request."

Victor whirled around, locking eyes with the entity. He averted his gaze quickly however. For something in the undead fires of his eyes deeply bothered him. The ghosts began to circle Victor, chanting something in an unknown tongue. When they were finished, Victor looked around him at the ghosts.

"It is done. You are now immune to time and death."

Before he could answer, the three spirits disappeared back into the large black castle, and color returned to the meadow before him. Victor looked himself over. He appeared to be very much the same. He wondered what exactly the three apparitions had done that would grant him immunity.

Maybe it was all just a dream. He reasoned.

Shaking his head, Victor headed towards Farmer Ben's cabin for the harvest feast.

******************************************

Victor reached the old farmhouse just as the last shards of sunlight had kissed the tip of the sea in the distance. As he entered the cabin, he was greeted by the cheerful sounds of laughter and warm conversation. As the young man made his way around the throngs of villagers who had turned up for the annual banquet, Farmer Ben himself greeted him.

"Ah Victor! So glad that you could make it. I heard a nasty rumor that you weren't coming due to a spat with the misses." The fat farmer chuckled, patting Victor on the shoulder.

"No, I would never miss the harvest feast Ben, you know that." Victor replied, trying not to be rude.

He was appalled at how quickly gossip spread in Oakvale. He should be able to have an argument with Cammilia without the entire village knowing about it. He wasn't entirely happy with Farmer Ben either. It was ludicrous that he had given Victor's title and seat of honor to a greedy sod like Henry.

"I have to go and find my wife and daughter, but it was nice to see you Ben."

"Victor. About the position as guest of honor. I'm sorry son." The farmer replied empathetically.

Victor feigned a smile and nodded before descending into the large crowd. He found Cammilia standing by a keg of ale, having a drink and talking with one of her friends. The other woman pointed at Victor as she noticed him coming. She said something to Cammilia, and the blonde woman looked over at her husband, a large smile finding her smooth lips. She placed her ale upon one of the many tables set up in the cabin and ran to embrace him. Victor held her, taking in her sweet aroma.

"Victor, there you are! I was worried that you were upset."

"I got over it, love. You were right; fighting is awful." He smiled, kissing her.

Cammilia noticed the odd look on his face, the excitement and pride in his green eyes.

"Are you alright? I haven't seen you this elated since I told you that I was pregnant with Opal."

"I just had time to clear my head dear. Plus the apple pie you make is delicious." Victor added, scanning the many pies and cakes that decorated the backmost table.

Victor could easily pick out his wife's pie from the rest. Hers had the crunchiest crumble topping, the sweetest apples, and the flakiest texture. A dessert that never ceased to tingle his taste buds and fill his heart with delight. Cammilia laughed.

"I would be more than happy to get you a slice."

"That would be lovely dearest." Victor replied.

Cammila smiled at him as she turned and headed for the dessert table. Victor watched her walk, the way her light blue dress framed her beautiful figure perfectly. The way her long wavy blonde hair bounced playfully with every step she took.

"My darling Cammilia, how long has it been?" He asked when she returned with a hearty slice of her pie.

"Since what Victor?"

He pulled her near, causing her to drop the plate. As it hit the dirt floor with a loud shatter, Victor dove his tongue deep into her awaiting mouth. Her blue eyes softened to his passion, and he in turn melted into her.

"Since I told you how very beautiful you are, my dear." Cammila pulled away and blushed.

"Oh Victor, such a tease." She nudged him gently. Victor laughed along with her antics.

"Have you seen Opal?" He asked. Cammilia pointed over to the corner of the room, where Opal and five other children were playing.

"Opal! Come here honey, your father's here!" Cammila whistled for the youth. Opal dropped her doll and ran over.

"Daddy! What took you? I was worried that you weren't gonna come." The little girl spoke as Victor sat. She laughed as he pulled her up onto his lap.

"I would never miss celebrating anything with you."

"Even if you won't be the guest of honor anymore?"

"None of that matters to me now." Cammilia looked at her husband inquisitively.

"Doesn't matter Victor? How come?"

"I have much more important things in my life. No sense letting Henry rile me over such a trivial thing as a title." Victor scoffed, still looking at his daughter.

"I'm very proud of you then, darling. I knew that one day you would realize that its foolish to continue this sibling rivalry with Henry." She patted his back.

The small family sat together for a while; enjoying the good food, as well as each others company.

*************************

"So Daddy, where did you go?" Opal asked through a bite of her dinner.

"Opal! It's rude to talk with your mouth full!" Cammilia scolded. Victor swallowed the last of his pie.

"Actually, I had some last minute business to attend to." He replied.

"Doing what?" Cammilia asked.

Victor felt his palms begin to perspire. The book. How was he going to tell her that he had broken his promise? A dark thought again graced his mind.

Does she even have to know? She would never find out anyway.

Victor shook his head and directed his attention back to his concerned wife. It seemed like those selfish wicked thoughts were finding his subconscious more often these days.

"Well Victor? What were you doing dear?" Cammilia pressed him.

"Um...I was-"

The sound of Farmer Ben ringing his cow bell saved Victor from the awkward moment. Everyone stood and faced the center of the barn, where Farmer Ben and Henry stood.

"Excuse me everyone. Our guest of honor has an announcement to make." The farmer motioned towards Henry, who took the stand.

"People of Oakvale. This has been a very profitable year for...most of us." His older brother sent Victor a mocking glare. "And to celebrate our success as a village, I would like to propose a toast to farmers Ben, Jordan, and of course, myself."

Victor scoffed at his conceit.

Greedy moron. Everyone knows that you can't toast yourself.

All the villagers in the barn re-filled their glasses and raised them, all except Victor. Cammilia looked at him as he sulked and kicked a pebble at his boots.

"Victor. Come on, toast them."

"No Cammilia."

"Victor I know that you hate your brother, but surely Farmer Ben and Farmer Jordan deserve respect."

"Respect?! They're poor dirt farmers Cammilia. Greedy ones at that. Did either Ben, Jordan or Henry ever risk their lives for the greater good of this village?" His voice was growing loud, and heads were beginning to turn and look at the shouting young man.

"Victor. Please dear, just raise your glass. You're making a scene." Cammilia whispered, her pale face flushed with embarrassment.

"No!" Victor roared. He pushed his way through the crowd and approached Henry.

"Still as sore a looser as always, eh Victor?"

Victor wasted no time in punching his boastful brother squarely in the jaw. Henry toppled off the podium, hitting the dirt floor hard. Victor faced the aghast group of villagers, and continued to speak.

"Is this your idea of gratitude!? I protected you, your wives, your children. For ten years now I have spilt my blood, risked my life, all for you. And now you all act as if my sacrifices meant nothing to you! Have you any idea just how quickly you would have died if not for my protection?!" He roared.

As he faced the crowd, loud rumbles boomed overhead. A powerful wind was whipping around the barn, causing the wood to creak.

CRACK!

A woman screamed as one of the barn windows shattered into tiny shards. A cold breeze entered the barn, blowing out every candle in the vicinity.

"It is an omen." Said one man.

"We should have never appointed Henry as our guest of honor." Added another.

"Dear Avo, have we angered you?" Asked the village priest.

Even Victor was growing concerned. The weather had been perfect all day, only for a rather unexpected storm to erupt now. It didn't make any sense. Suddenly, six red eyes appeared in the doorway of the farm house. Victor felt a chill run through him as the three dark demons from earlier entered the barn.

Something was very wrong.