Marked Ones: Advent of the Demon Prince

Two people sat at the counter of a nearly desolate bar. They slowly sipped on their drinks from dented metal tankards that were long past their prime. Though the rest of the bar was of fine construction, it seemed these reserve dishes were kept for the very specific crowd that frequented the building in the small hours before twilight.

Neither human spoke to the other and despite the open availability of every seat in the place, they were seated right next to one another. The bartender sighed and picked up a few gold coins laying casually on the bar. He quickly replaced their ales and then picked up a sack of gold between them before heading upstairs.

With both humans alone, they dropped the hoods covering their faces. One of them was a comely woman that you would easily identify out in the sticks where they were drinking, but in a place like Arcadios's capital, she would just be another woman in the crowd.

The man, on the other hand, was a rough-and-tumble sort of person with poorly maintained stubble and a blank look in his eyes akin to that of a dead fish.

"What do you want?" The man grumbled.

"To prepare."

The man chuckled wryly. "Why, you plannin' on takin' me to my bed?"Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"No." The woman answered coldly, "A visitor is expected in the not-so-distant future. You'll know them when they arrive. When they do, I need you to guide them."

The man spat on the floor in disgust. He could not believe what this stranger was suggesting. Not only did she intrude on his private drinking time, but she also had the audacity to speak to him and bother him.

The moment she walked in, he knew that she wanted something from him. After all, he was the only drunkard up at this hour still knocking them back. In fact, if he weren't a partial owner of this bar, there'd be no way it would even open.

He studied his guest a second time. As he thought before, she was pretty for a small town like this. She would definitely stand out from the other residents here. Especially since she did not look like much of a fighter. Again, she was another city girl; worth a dime a dozen.

"I don't do that anymore." He grumbled, swirling the rancid ale in his cup. He could ask for finer stuff with his money, but somehow the awful taste made him feel better. It matched his spirit. "If you know what I did, then you know why I won't."

"I know a lot more about you than why you won't go down there. I also know exactly what happened. I know why you had to go down there in the first place, and I even know who is to blame for that."

"Bah, so what if you…" He started to shout.

His words were ripped from his throat when he saw a simple envelope sitting on the counter. There was nothing special about it other than a strange, shattered globe on its front. Without additional prompting, he reached for the letter and opened it.

Every line of the letter was more intriguing than the last. As the man's eyes ran down the page, his hands gripped the side of the paper tighter, crinkling the edges. His fingers squeezed tight enough to begin to tear the edges, but he was able to maintain his calm well enough to finish it.

"You're certain."

"I am." The woman answered his question swiftly. No matter how hard he searched her eyes, there wasn't a trace of uncertainty or lies.

"There's another thing I know about you." The woman proclaimed with a small smile. "I know you want to die, but you are too afraid to do it yourself. Follow the steps in this letter, and then await further instruction. You'll get what you want."

The woman put another letter on the table with the same symbol inked onto the front before she got up from the bar. Wordlessly, she left and disappeared into the dark village outside. The man eyed the letter on the table and the partially crumpled and torn one in his hand. Many thoughts went through his mind, but the primary one was 'finally.'

"Did your guest leave, sir?" The bartender asked as he reappeared from above.

"Aye, she did…"

"Shall I turn in the hush money she paid me?"

"No, keep it. Every coin is yours." He answered before swallowing every last drop of alcohol in both his and the woman's cups.

He placed down a handful of coins and then ventured into the village. The roads were quiet and dark. Only a handful of lanterns hung along the side of the roads to light the paths. No guards were on patrol either. Most of the town's guards were concentrated nearer the dungeon entrance.

It had been a few years since the incident that forced him to turn to alcohol, but he still felt the call of the dungeon. Those who spent years inside its depths developed a strange desire to return. After years of drinking, the sense had started to dull, but tonight's conversation reawakened the desire within.

After several minutes of wandering around, he found himself standing in front of the massive doors to the dungeon. They had been sealed for months at this point and business in town was starting to dry up. There was no doubt that it would open. He could feel it in his bones.

"Berk!" One of the guards who watched over the dungeon entrance called out to him. "What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in a…"

"Put my name on the list. I'm signing up as a guide again."

"Sure, I can do that. I don't know when you will be able to enter again at this rate." The guard complained. "The doors have been locked tight."

Before Berk could say anything, both men looked back at the giant doors. A red glow began to form at the bottom corners of the doors. It moved towards the center crevice where the doors met and then traveled upward until the glow finally reached the top.

The glow then vanished, only to be replaced with a bright, red flash. The doors clicked and then groaned as they slowly opened inward. Once again, the entrance to the Demon's Stomach were open.

Berk turned to face the guard whose mouth was agape. "Guess I'll start tomorrow."