Damiynn
Fantasy Author
Chapter 1
I didn't really need the gun, but caution caused me to push back the left side of my knitted coat revealing the cross draw rig slung low, cavalry style on my hip. The curved butt end of the pistol glinted, reflecting back the light of the street lamps.
I considered briefly whether I should pull out the large iron but decided against it. I knew the man holed up here. This part of Denver was not as rich as some, but it also wasn’t on the frontier or some backwater hole in the wall.
It was well enough to do that it had lights and I didn’t want to have to listen to my boss chew my ass out again about drawing my weapon when I didn’t need to. I could already hear his gruff speech in my head.
“Discretion Marshal Mollon, this isn’t Dodge City or Deadwood. Denver is civilized”
“Minor,” I called out loudly in a friendly tone, “this isn’t worth the fight you’re going to get if you keep this up. Why don’t you just toss out your weapons and surrender yourself into my custody?”
Nothing came forth from the old house that had seen better days. Then a heavy clanking filled the air that was followed by a rattle that sounded like someone tripping over a pot bellied stove and had knocked something off it.
“Isss that you M..Marshal Mollon?” called out a voice near one of the broken window panes. “Iiis should not have to go anywhere, Iiis did nothing wrong.”
I shook my head in exasperation, hearing the drunken slurred words.
"Them men’s, Marshal, they had it coming. Theyy needed someone to ssshut their mouths, they were speaking bad to the ladies.”
I turned back to the two local lawmen who had both noticed my silver star and pushed back the brim of my hat with a thumb. In a jovial voice I said, “He claims he did nothing wrong gentlemen.”
The two local lawmen shook their heads disbelievingly. The older and more seasoned one said, “He killed some of those he claimed he did nothing to Marshal. He cut four more within inches of their lives with a rune blade.”
The second lawman’s eyes glowed hotly and I saw his fingers tighten around the grip of his already drawn pistol. Apparently the men who had been killed were acquaintances of his.
“He also killed one,” growled the second lawman, “with magic, he did Marshal. Turned him to ash with an electrical glyph and now he’s refusing to lower his defenses so that we can arrest him. It ain’t right him defying the law that way.”
The first lawman gave his partner a pointed look. “And all of the witnesses said that he used that glyph in self defense Officer Payton." The second cop gru but he also slid his sidearm back into its holster.
Sighing, I directed my attention back towards the beaten down house. “One of these lawmwn says you might be innocent, Minor, the other one says you aren’t. Why don’t I come up there and we’ll talk about it, all gentlemanly like?”
“Iiis don’t know, Kailen, I mean Marshall..”
I turned to the more sensible local lawman. “You said you had witnesses?”
“Yes, Marshall, they all said he did no wrong and was provoked into defending himself.”
Turning again to the old house I shouted, “I believe we should, Minor. I need to hear your side. One officer here believes the witnesses. I want to be able to convince the second, before he shoots you or puts you in front of a magical killing squad. Don't shoot, I’m coming up.”
“M..Marshall, I’ss don’t know if that’s a good idea. I’ss don’t want any harm to come to you.”
Ignoring the comment, and the stares from the two locals, I started up the walk. As I reached the edge of porch I felt them. Several strong wards flared to life around the house. Power radiated from them in a pulsing wave. They should have repelled me, or at least knocked me back onto the sidewalk, if they could have touched me. A ripple of silver light flashed from the five pointed Marshall’s star on my chest and like oil sliding over water, I felt the wards magic pass around me.
Their power was a testament to Minor’s past life before he had fallen apart and had become what he was now.
Not sure what kind of glyphs Minor might have drawn on the door, and being that glyphs were stronger than wards, I gathered my magic and sent out a faint trickle of power. As my magical senses began tracing the door, several white hot lights burst to life on the surface. One was for fire and another was for electricity. I changed the intensity of my magic and made it into a breaking. A snap, pop and hiss filled the air, then the glyphs faded away. Minor might have a little more power than the usual magic user, but he wasn't a match for someone like me.
Carefully, I opened the door and stepped inside.
Minor’s life had changed when his wife and children had died during an Indian, elven raid a few years ago. Grief and remorse coupled with alcohol and bad decisions after their deaths had crushed the will and motivation of a man who had once been one of the best traders and creators of magical trinkets in the Colorado territory.
Immediately I saw that the house was a wreck. Several months worth of dirt and left over food remains covered the wooden floor. Ripped leather covered the expensive chairs, and what looked like claw marks scored several of the wooden table tops. I found myself wondering as I looked at the jagged cuts if Minor had acquired some sort of pet. A fur carpet lay on the floor and for the life of me I couldn’t tell what color it was supposed to be.
Minor’s once opulent attire now looked like the worn out grimy rags of a street hobo. His shiny black hair was now greasy and streaked with grey. It hung like a lank and listless mop a over his now haggard looking face. His large and powerfully built body had become emaciated to the point that it looked like something had been eating at him from the inside. Cold light emanated from one of his hands, a silver sheen that would have been impossible to see unless you were one who was attuned to magic. I was, so I assumed that it had to be the rune knife he had used earlier.
The smell of blood filled the air with a sickly metallic smell. A sudden burst of adrenaline based fear coursed through me leaving an icy cold filling my veins. Out of old dead habit, I hurruiedly looked about for a corpse or a sacrifice ans saw nothing of the sort. All htat I saw was Minor and he didn’t look at all like the same man I had seen the last time we had met.
Something else was also wrong though besides the blood smell and it had an eerie echo of something that I thought I had left in the past a while ago. and thinking about it caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. There was something wrong with the room.
Velour curtains covered the windows, but they were open and the street lamps outside barely lit the interior. The room shouldn’t have been so dark. A pall of blackness seemed to emanate from…
WIthout even realizing, I was doing so, I sent out a faint trickle of magic again. and this time the hairs standing up on the back of my neck curled tight. I felt a sense, a sense of …
Hell No!
The words crossed my brain before I could stop them. It’s impossible.
My hand snaked out, wrapping about the handle of my peacemaker. It was out of its holster before I even registered the movement and leveled in Minor’s direction, the sight fixed on a point right between his eyes.
Reaching out tentatively with my senses, I poked about the room. I did not want my magic to make contact with what I sensed. What I was afraid I already knew was here.
The silver star on my chest had protected me from Minor’s earlier wards and glyphs but no man was immune to what I feared Minor was clutching in his white knuckled fist.
Damn, I cursed silently, trying not to stare at Minor’s hand. God Damn!
“Minor,” I said carefully and calmly, drawing in a hard breath, trying to hide anxiety from creeping into my voice, “please put that knife down, it’s dangerous.”
As if on cue, Minor lifted the knife and I saw the slight red stain running along its keen edge.
I stared at it, transfixed by the almost living line of blood on the edge of the blade. A shiver of spear ran down my spine like a drop of ice cold water. That damn thing can't be here. It shouldn’t exist, at least not anymore.
The black ruby gracing the hilt of the dagger glittered icy cold, looking just like its creator’s raven colored eyes.
The damn jewel should have been red, it couldn’t be black, not anymore, it was impossible.
Tobias was going to hate this. Faintly I heard my boss’s growling voice again in my mind. “Dang it Marshal Mollon, I thought you finished this last time!. I thought you said that the damn fool was dead."
The ruby on the dagger's hilt had once been red once but blood oath magic had changed it. Now it held a part of its maker’s soul in it and that gave the stone its black color and sentient awareness.
It should not be black though, it was impossible.
I didn’t have to see the crucifix etched into the stone’s face to know who had made it, I had killed its maker. The iron hilt was engraved with ancient blood runes that glowed a slightly reddish tinge. Silvered steel formed the eight inch long serrated blade that was always used over time for blood sacrifices.
I didn't really need the gun, but caution caused me to push back the left side of my knitted coat revealing the cross draw rig slung low, cavalry style on my hip. The curved butt end of the pistol glinted, reflecting back the light of the street lamps.
I considered briefly whether I should pull out the large iron but decided against it. I knew the man holed up here. This part of Denver was not as rich as some, but it also wasn’t on the frontier or some backwater hole in the wall.
It was well enough to do that it had lights and I didn’t want to have to listen to my boss chew my ass out again about drawing my weapon when I didn’t need to. I could already hear his gruff speech in my head.
“Discretion Marshal Mollon, this isn’t Dodge City or Deadwood. Denver is civilized”
“Minor,” I called out loudly in a friendly tone, “this isn’t worth the fight you’re going to get if you keep this up. Why don’t you just toss out your weapons and surrender yourself into my custody?”
Nothing came forth from the old house that had seen better days. Then a heavy clanking filled the air that was followed by a rattle that sounded like someone tripping over a pot bellied stove and had knocked something off it.
“Isss that you M..Marshal Mollon?” called out a voice near one of the broken window panes. “Iiis should not have to go anywhere, Iiis did nothing wrong.”
I shook my head in exasperation, hearing the drunken slurred words.
"Them men’s, Marshal, they had it coming. Theyy needed someone to ssshut their mouths, they were speaking bad to the ladies.”
I turned back to the two local lawmen who had both noticed my silver star and pushed back the brim of my hat with a thumb. In a jovial voice I said, “He claims he did nothing wrong gentlemen.”
The two local lawmen shook their heads disbelievingly. The older and more seasoned one said, “He killed some of those he claimed he did nothing to Marshal. He cut four more within inches of their lives with a rune blade.”
The second lawman’s eyes glowed hotly and I saw his fingers tighten around the grip of his already drawn pistol. Apparently the men who had been killed were acquaintances of his.
“He also killed one,” growled the second lawman, “with magic, he did Marshal. Turned him to ash with an electrical glyph and now he’s refusing to lower his defenses so that we can arrest him. It ain’t right him defying the law that way.”
The first lawman gave his partner a pointed look. “And all of the witnesses said that he used that glyph in self defense Officer Payton." The second cop gru but he also slid his sidearm back into its holster.
Sighing, I directed my attention back towards the beaten down house. “One of these lawmwn says you might be innocent, Minor, the other one says you aren’t. Why don’t I come up there and we’ll talk about it, all gentlemanly like?”
“Iiis don’t know, Kailen, I mean Marshall..”
I turned to the more sensible local lawman. “You said you had witnesses?”
“Yes, Marshall, they all said he did no wrong and was provoked into defending himself.”
Turning again to the old house I shouted, “I believe we should, Minor. I need to hear your side. One officer here believes the witnesses. I want to be able to convince the second, before he shoots you or puts you in front of a magical killing squad. Don't shoot, I’m coming up.”
“M..Marshall, I’ss don’t know if that’s a good idea. I’ss don’t want any harm to come to you.”
Ignoring the comment, and the stares from the two locals, I started up the walk. As I reached the edge of porch I felt them. Several strong wards flared to life around the house. Power radiated from them in a pulsing wave. They should have repelled me, or at least knocked me back onto the sidewalk, if they could have touched me. A ripple of silver light flashed from the five pointed Marshall’s star on my chest and like oil sliding over water, I felt the wards magic pass around me.
Their power was a testament to Minor’s past life before he had fallen apart and had become what he was now.
Not sure what kind of glyphs Minor might have drawn on the door, and being that glyphs were stronger than wards, I gathered my magic and sent out a faint trickle of power. As my magical senses began tracing the door, several white hot lights burst to life on the surface. One was for fire and another was for electricity. I changed the intensity of my magic and made it into a breaking. A snap, pop and hiss filled the air, then the glyphs faded away. Minor might have a little more power than the usual magic user, but he wasn't a match for someone like me.
Carefully, I opened the door and stepped inside.
Minor’s life had changed when his wife and children had died during an Indian, elven raid a few years ago. Grief and remorse coupled with alcohol and bad decisions after their deaths had crushed the will and motivation of a man who had once been one of the best traders and creators of magical trinkets in the Colorado territory.
Immediately I saw that the house was a wreck. Several months worth of dirt and left over food remains covered the wooden floor. Ripped leather covered the expensive chairs, and what looked like claw marks scored several of the wooden table tops. I found myself wondering as I looked at the jagged cuts if Minor had acquired some sort of pet. A fur carpet lay on the floor and for the life of me I couldn’t tell what color it was supposed to be.
Minor’s once opulent attire now looked like the worn out grimy rags of a street hobo. His shiny black hair was now greasy and streaked with grey. It hung like a lank and listless mop a over his now haggard looking face. His large and powerfully built body had become emaciated to the point that it looked like something had been eating at him from the inside. Cold light emanated from one of his hands, a silver sheen that would have been impossible to see unless you were one who was attuned to magic. I was, so I assumed that it had to be the rune knife he had used earlier.
The smell of blood filled the air with a sickly metallic smell. A sudden burst of adrenaline based fear coursed through me leaving an icy cold filling my veins. Out of old dead habit, I hurruiedly looked about for a corpse or a sacrifice ans saw nothing of the sort. All htat I saw was Minor and he didn’t look at all like the same man I had seen the last time we had met.
Something else was also wrong though besides the blood smell and it had an eerie echo of something that I thought I had left in the past a while ago. and thinking about it caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. There was something wrong with the room.
Velour curtains covered the windows, but they were open and the street lamps outside barely lit the interior. The room shouldn’t have been so dark. A pall of blackness seemed to emanate from…
WIthout even realizing, I was doing so, I sent out a faint trickle of magic again. and this time the hairs standing up on the back of my neck curled tight. I felt a sense, a sense of …
Hell No!
The words crossed my brain before I could stop them. It’s impossible.
My hand snaked out, wrapping about the handle of my peacemaker. It was out of its holster before I even registered the movement and leveled in Minor’s direction, the sight fixed on a point right between his eyes.
Reaching out tentatively with my senses, I poked about the room. I did not want my magic to make contact with what I sensed. What I was afraid I already knew was here.
The silver star on my chest had protected me from Minor’s earlier wards and glyphs but no man was immune to what I feared Minor was clutching in his white knuckled fist.
Damn, I cursed silently, trying not to stare at Minor’s hand. God Damn!
“Minor,” I said carefully and calmly, drawing in a hard breath, trying to hide anxiety from creeping into my voice, “please put that knife down, it’s dangerous.”
As if on cue, Minor lifted the knife and I saw the slight red stain running along its keen edge.
I stared at it, transfixed by the almost living line of blood on the edge of the blade. A shiver of spear ran down my spine like a drop of ice cold water. That damn thing can't be here. It shouldn’t exist, at least not anymore.
The black ruby gracing the hilt of the dagger glittered icy cold, looking just like its creator’s raven colored eyes.
The damn jewel should have been red, it couldn’t be black, not anymore, it was impossible.
Tobias was going to hate this. Faintly I heard my boss’s growling voice again in my mind. “Dang it Marshal Mollon, I thought you finished this last time!. I thought you said that the damn fool was dead."
The ruby on the dagger's hilt had once been red once but blood oath magic had changed it. Now it held a part of its maker’s soul in it and that gave the stone its black color and sentient awareness.
It should not be black though, it was impossible.
I didn’t have to see the crucifix etched into the stone’s face to know who had made it, I had killed its maker. The iron hilt was engraved with ancient blood runes that glowed a slightly reddish tinge. Silvered steel formed the eight inch long serrated blade that was always used over time for blood sacrifices.
