The Lord of Shadows Rises Page 4

  Luray’s breathing was labored. “Why did you return? That was foolish!” Luray admonished in a raspy voice that betrayed the immense pain he felt.

  “Master, let me get you to a hospital maybe they can still heal you?” said Alexander.

  The old man reached up with his one good hand, his left hand lying limply at the side. A long cut ran from his wrist to his elbow where one of the soldiers had caught him, making it useless. “It won’t matter, my student. He hit me with a powerful poison that has no antidote. I have five minutes or so of life in me.” Master Luray flinched a little from speaking.

  Alexander started to cry. “Stay with me, Master!” His master smiled back, sure that he had prepared Alexander as best he could for the battle ahead.

  “I have nothing left to teach you, but I have one last request," the dying master coughed as he tried to get all of his message out.

  “Yes, Master?” said Alexander as he tried to put on a brave front.

  “Find the other Masters of the White Rose and learn all you can. Do it not for revenge but for peace. Honor my request, Alexander, please?” The Master implored his student.

  “The medallion will point you in the right direction of the nearest Master, known to our kind as a Guardian. If a Master dies, one of the pieces in the artifact will turn black and crack. If they're mortally wounded, it will crack first. You were my greatest student and it was an honor to teach you all I know,” he says with pride.

  Alexander took out the medallion given to him by his master on his last birthday. Holding his Master close and sobbing from sorrow, Alexander implored his teacher, “Don’t leave me, Master, please.”

  Luray coughed. “Promise me, should he regain his freedom, that you'll defeat the Lord of Shadows and bring peace to this world once again,” His message passed on, he closed his eyes and passed away before his student could reply. A weak ‘Yes, Master’ stuck on his lips, never to be heard.

  The cracked crystal piece in the medallion that signified Luray’s life force turned black, signaling the Master’s death.

  Alexander held his masters' body as further tears ran freely down his face. The bodies of the soldiers killed by Luray dissolved in the clearing as though they had never been there. Strange magic was happening.

  “I'll do as you have requested, Master,” Alexander said, this time more clearly. With more conviction.

  Gathering his items, he slung his bag over his shoulder, ready to begin his journey to find the other Masters. But first, he had to retrieve the box from Samuel’s house. It was hidden in a safe place. He was no longer a minor in Norway at seventeen and he told the family he was going to find his way in the world.

  ***

  In the temple on the mountain in northern Norway, Nicolson presented the Master’s blade to the voice, one knee on the ground in a show of loyalty. “Forgive me, Lord. I couldn't catch the boy, but I killed his Guardian. I am ready for any punishment you deem fit for my failure,” said the general.

  “You did more than anyone else, so your failure will be forgiven this time,” said the voice. “One less Guardian to deal with.”

  “What now, my Lord?” asked Nicolson.

  “I think a change of tactics is necessary,” said the voice. The general looks confused. “It's too risky to reveal ourselves further. There is time. We will search for the other keys, the boy isn’t going anywhere. Have some men keep us aware of his whereabouts.”

  “As you wish, my Lord.”

  Chapter 4: Journey of a Hero

  Several days had passed since the death of Master Luray. Alexander looked at the medallion, noting one of the spaces was glowing bright. He breathed in as he looked for another Master. It was hard to focus when he was still coming to terms with his Master’s death, a man who was like a second father to him.

  I must be heading in the right direction, he thought. Earlier, he had turned north, and the glow had become dim. He had turned to the west, and it glowed brightly again. Lacking any greater sign, Alexander took a train to the western town of Stavanger.

  Reaching port the medallion continued to try to take him west. It seems I must cross the Atlantic, he mulled, but not wanting to leave a paper trail at the airports his only route seemed to be through the off chance someone was looking for workers.

  Looking around the port he came across a ‘Help Wanted’ sign on the side of a United States cargo ship. Alexander walked up to one of the sailors and asked politely, “Do you need a worker?”

  “The captain needs some muscle to help with our cargo of food to New York. You look like a strong young man. You need to earn some money then?” asked the crew member.

  “I need to get to the States. Where do I sign up?” Alexander asked.

  “We'll need your passport first,” said the same crew member.

  Hesitant to pass on his details it seemed Alexander’s only option, so he went aboard the ship and filled out all the paperwork needed for the job. Where the form asked for family information, Alexander spelled out the dreaded word deceased.

  “Everything seems to be in order, young man. Welcome aboard. Let me introduce to you our captain,” the sailor said as he escorted Alexander to the ship’s bridge.

  The captain was wearing a white sailor suit with gold-colored stripes on his shoulders. He was a medium-sized man but had a very strong, muscular build. He was surprisingly clean-shaven, throwing any image Alexander held of a stereotypical sailor with a beard straight out the window.

  “So you're the new hand.” The Captain stated, shaking his hand, “you look very capable. I am Captain Hathaway. We leave port tomorrow in the morning. 4am to be precise. I need you to help with the rest of the loading tonight, then we will be ready as soon as we have passed through Norwegian customs.”

  Alexander worked hard over the following hours, eager to prove himself an asset as he helped with the loading. As promised the ship took out of port early the next morning.

  They stopped in Iceland to refuel and stayed for a few days. Alexander was given some time off the ship, so he headed to the bazaar in the local town. He was relaxing and looking in shop fronts when he saw a stand with various weapons, manned by a man of oriental descent. “Sir, I'm looking for a weapon, so I can move my training up,” said Alexander.

  “What are you looking for?” asked the man. “My name's Cao Cue and I have been collecting weapons for twenty years."

  “Well, I'm currently learning swordsmanship with a bokken and was hoping to begin working with a real sword,” explained Alexander.

  “What type of sword are you trying to master?” Cao asked holding his hand under his chin while listening intently to Alexander’s answer to his question.

  “A short blade so I can wield two,” said the teen.

  “Hmm, I'd recommend a Kodachi and a Tanto so you can get a feel for the two before moving up to two Kodachi, said the merchant. “Look around and see what strikes your fancy.”

  Alexander looked around and saw a beautiful, short curved blade around 40cm in length with a black hilt and several kanji. “What do the kanji stand for?” he asked.

  “It is translated as ‘the way of the sword,’” replied Cao. “Flip the blade and you'll see another set of kanji that can be translated as ‘Bushido,’ which is the samurai code," said Cao.

  “How much is it?” Alexander asked as he stared at the swords.

  “To you, my friend, five hundred dollars,” said Cao.

  Alexander bought both the Kodachi and a Tanto, which was around 18 cm in length and more of a dagger used for stabbing, and had them wrapped. A few days later, the ship left the port and headed on to New York City.

  Weeks of hard work followed, interjected with Alexander learning to play poker with the sailors, where he won an impressive amount of money from his wins, and fishing. On occasion Alexander would catch enough fish, with a few sailors, to cook them for the crew.

  Finally the ship docked in New York and together they unloaded the ship. The captain thanked the
teen and handed him his check to cover his hard work aboard his vessel. Alexander was left knowing that a place for him always remained aboard the kind Captain’s ship.

  The captain and his crew wished Alexander the best and told him not to hesitate to ask for any help he may need. The teen walked into the busy city to continue his search, and the Captain furrowed his brow and turned back to the ship right before glancing in Alexander’s supposed direction.

  Alexander got a hotel room and slept for the rest of the day. While resting he turned on the TV flickering through the channels when a mixed martial art show called American Fighting Championship caught his interest. He watched as a master of Muay Thai defeated his larger opponent within thirty minutes of the fight beginning.

  ***

  Alexander walked out onto the streets at a little after noon. With no destination in mind he managed to find himself in a dubious area of time. Looking for a way back to vague familiarity he came across several thugs pestering what appeared to be a young adult female with long black hair, wearing jeans and a white shirt, in an alley.

  “Come on, babe. Just one night,” the leader said as he advanced on the outnumbered woman.

  “What part of no don’t you understand?” growled the woman. “I've got a thing against trash.”

  “Don’t be like that,” said another thug.

  “Sorry, I don’t go out with the garbage. Now, beat it,” the woman replied without a worry.

  The man leered at her with a smile. “I like them feisty.”

  “How about I just humiliate you then call it a day?” she asked.

  “All right, we'll do this the hard way." He cracked his knuckles and his men snickered at the woman, who looked bored.

  “Today's spring cleaning. It seems it’s time to take out and clean up this scum,” replied the female.

  “Is that right? Come on then, boys. Let’s show her what happens when you don’t accept my invite.”

  “You might as well save yourself the trouble of fighting and just fall down, because the ground is where you’re going to be,” she said getting into a defensive posture.

  Alexander had seen enough and strode down the alley to stop the crime about to take place. “I think the young lady said no, gentlemen,” he said, glaring at the thugs.

  “This is none of your business, punk,” said one of the thugs as he took a pistol out and pointed it at Alexander’s head, the cold steel touching his forehead.

  Before the man could voice another threat, he found himself dropping his gun and clutching his chest in pain as Alexander’s right fist flashed out. Alexander followed with a spin kick, knocking the man to the ground, out cold.

  As the other thugs advanced on Alexander, the leader was attacked by the young woman with a swift knee attack in a Muay Thai style. The leader losing consciousness as blood poured out of his nose. For good measure, she kicked him between his legs, felling him for good.

  Seeing that the other thugs were knocked out, the young female visibly relaxed. Alexander joined her, “I guess you did not need help after all. Did you have to hit him there?” he winced.

  The young lady glared at him. “I didn’t need your help at all. Don’t interfere next time,” she replied before storming away with a scowl on her face.

  “You’re welcome,” said Alexander to himself. He took out his medallion and turned south as one of the crystals glowed brightly. Leaving the thugs on the ground for the police, or whoever, he walked away.

  Alexander continued to follow the direction of the medallion and found himself at a dojo for Muay Thai. He knocked on the dojo’s door, and an older man in his thirties with black hair and bandages around his fists appeared. He had a scar over his right eye going from top to bottom.

  “May I help you, young one?” asked the man.

  Alexander bowed his head and said, “I would like to take lessons in Muay Thai. May I speak to the Master?”

  The man looked at Alexander. “I am Master Paul Thompson of this school, I’m going to need to see where you are to be placed, said the master.

  “No problem, Master,” said Alexander as he bowed again. “I saw that you won the match this morning at the AFC. It was a great match.”

  Master Thompson walked into the dojo, motioning for Alexander to follow him. “I would like to see if you have any skills, and in which form.” Alexander joined the Master in the middle of the mat as the ten students present in the dojo gathered around them both.

  The Master addressed his students, “This young man would like to join the dojo. To help gauge his competence I will now allow him to face our star pupil.”

  A young woman, clearly agitated, appeared from behind the Master. “What are you doing here?” she asked rudely.

  Master Thompson looked at the exchange with puzzlement. “Hey, fancy meeting you here,” replied Alexander, a little embarrassed.

  “So you’re the one I am fighting,” she said with a snort.

  The Master looked at both with amusement. “You know each other?”

  “Yeah, this loser intervened in a fight with some thugs that were trying to force themselves on me,” she glared at Alexander.

  The Master sighed. “You shouldn't be too proud to accept help when it is offered, Lenora. Being overconfident will lead to your defeat if you’re not careful,” said Master Thompson with a disapproving look. “You two can settle any differences in the ring.”

  Alexander faced his opponent and bowed to her. Lenora bowed as well. Alexander then positioned himself in his favored Crane style.

  That stance he is using leaves very little opening to any attacker, thought the Master.

  Lenora got into her stance, ready to show the upstart why she was Master Thompson’s star pupil.

  “Begin!” shouted the Master.

  Alexander keen to be on the offensive, went for a backhand to Lenora’s face, but throwing her forearm up she blocked it with ease. She then thrust back with her knee. Alexander grabbed with an open palm, hissing with pain as the knee connected with his hand. His strength though throwing her off balance as he pushed back against the blow.

  Alexander kicked low, hoping to make the woman lose her balance for a moment, but she remained elusive, jumping forward and connecting a knee to Alexander’s chest. Losing his stance, Alexander stumbled back. Before she could force home her advantage, he recovered and blocked a second attempted knee with his arm. Spinning on his standing foot he landed a forceful kick to his opponent’s side, striking her midsection and making her growl in annoyance.

  Lenora launched a return kick to his midsection, but the fluidity of movement possible by using the Crane Kung Fu’s style easily allowed Alexander to dodge the powerful kick. Sensing the chance to go on the attack once more, he changed his style to that of the Snake and started to use fast jabs, his superior speed allowing him to land a combination of blows.

  Alexander and Lenora were breathing hard, reaching a stalemate as they grew tired, more and more blows landing successfully on the two opponents. Master Thompson choose this point to step once more into the middle, raising his hand. “This match shall be called a draw as Alexander has proven to be a very capable fighter. I shall be honored to teach him our style in the dojo," said the Master. Gesturing for Alexander to follow he crossed the mat and headed to his office.

  The Master sat down behind his dark brown, uncluttered desk. “What's your name?” he asked the young man standing before him.

  “I am Alexander Theodorson, I have just arrived in New York from Oslo, Norway,” said the teen.

  “From what I saw today, you were trained by Master Luray. Am I correct?” asked the Master.

  Alexander was shocked and tensed up, quickly ready for either fight or flight while asking his question. “Master Thompson, how did you know?”

  The man chuckled. “No need to be paranoid, Alexander. The Masters of the White Rose keep in touch. He contacted me about his new student, but he never gave me a name. Though I can tell from your eyes that som
ething is wrong. What happened?” The Master asked looking concerned.

  Alexander took a breath. “Master Luray was recently killed by a general of the Lord of Shadows, trying to help buy time for me to escape their clutches."

  The Master sighed at the news. “I didn't want to believe it when Luray told me about the murder of his old student. Now Master Luray is also dead.” The Master ran his hand through his hair, before adding, “This complicates things greatly.”

  Master Thompson got up and looked at Alexander with a serious expression. “Your training will be difficult because it seems we've got to get you as strong, if not stronger, than each Master. Are you ready to push yourself beyond your limits? Your bones may be broken and battered from the training, but we have no choice, it is the only way to reach the levels that we need you to achieve.”

  “Whatever it takes,” responded Alexander.

  Master Thompson rose from his chair and the two left the office, he spent the next hour guiding Alexander on a tour of the dojo. “The students live at the school during their training.” He informed the teen. He moved forward to show him the room that would become his temporary home. “The room may be small, but it’s got a cot and the bathroom is down the hall to your left. We believe in simplicity and we show it in how we live our lives."

  Alexander bowed his head. “Thank you, Master."

  As he was leaving, The Master turned to Alexander, “After the training, I promise that you’ll hate me. Training starts promptly at five every morning, so be punctual." With his message delivered, The Master left his newest student to get acquainted with his new surroundings.

  Alexander settled into his room and placed the box with the key under the cot, hoping that no one would ask him questions about it.

  Chapter 5: Death of a Master

  In the temple on the mountain, three warriors stood in front of the statue that held the banished Lord of Shadows.

  “Where did the boy go?” said the voice.

  A small man stepped forward and said, “Our spies have again located him, my Lord.”