"Well, those next eight years were spent with him mindlessly killing, robbing, torturing, and dissecting victims of all kinds, and developing his powers and seeing to the extent he could use them. Hmhmm~! I hope your taking notes kid. We've only dived about halfway into this terribly...fascinating tale."
Daniel at this point was thoroughly intrigued. His hands had remained clasped this whole time, but his grip was tighter now, so much so that his knuckles were blazing white with pressure.
"I am taking good account of all things you say, informer. What I'm really interested in now though is just how he ascended into this powerful
"Dictatorship?" The cloaked man inquired, figuring out the word for him.
"Something of the like, yes. I hear this part includes a man by the name of Charlemagne."
The informer dropped to a deadly silence. Daniel felt that he had somehow brought up a sour topic and a slight wave of nervousness passed over him and visibly affected his countenance.
"Where did you hear that from?" he asked, the words coming out in a poisonous voice. Daniel, although he could not see the other man's eyes, he could feel them burning into his own. He cleared his throat before giving his reply. "I've heard
I've heard it floating about the citizens. A few old wives were retelling what they knew to each other of him one day, I happened to overhear some of it."
Again the uncomfortable silence took over the conversation. At last the story teller cracked a smile and let out a hoarse chuckle. He started to tap rhythmically on his liquor glass, waiting for the waitress to return. "Not many know the tale, so I was a bit shocked when you brought it up. Excuse me for sounding offensive, if I did. But you must wait just a little until we reach that point, something else happened that is quite important to realizing just how ruthless our dear leader is.
"For eight years he roamed the old city's streets committing unspeakable crimes. Though who could stop him? Nobody, that's who. He was impervious to any knife, poison, or bullet. As long as he kept out of the sun and made sure no color came to contact with his true skin, the boy was unstoppable. The souls of his brother's tormented him, but one by one they were released into the afterlife where they belong, but left odd shaped scars on his body that showed from time to time. It left him utterly mad, nonetheless. Around the time he turned sixteen he came across the monochromatic group that his father so long ago guided. He didn't know at the time these were his father's followers since his father believed in keeping work and home life separated, so his trade was never really brought up to Skye. Regardless, the ninety nine members that made up the group took him in kindly. They knew their leader had a son, but they never saw him. Everyone was naive to the others' existence.
"For about a week Skye grew to learn just how the gang worked and operated, and he felt he could do a much better job of it himself. He was quite used to getting what he wanted, but when he brought up the topic to the other gang members they only laughed and dismissed it, which made him quite angry. They truly were devoted to their lord and wouldn't give up his position so easily in case he returned. And to just a child? It was nonsense! So Skye approached it from a different angle: He would take over the gang and whoever objected to it would be killed. When this was proposed, a lot of members thought he was bluffing. They whole heartedly accepted his challenge with no idea what they were getting into.
"Ninety nine members went into that battle. After only minutes, three were left. They stopped early enough in the madness to be sparred by Skye. He named them the only ones worthy enough to serve under him. They went, and still go by, the names of Hier, Jester, and Roan. Oh, but it was a bloody massacre. It took place in an alley way where no one could see it, in the farthest part of the city where no one could hear it Or if they did, they wouldn't care. The piles of bodies were found in two days as a rotting mess. No one besides a few key witnesses know what really went down."
"You're one of the key witnesses, I'm guessing?" Daniel cut in. The hooded man's uneasy smile returned to his face.
"Of course! There's many a man like me in this city who know more then they let on, and for a price will tell these tales. You just have to know where to look, and lucky for you
you've looked in the right place."
"Indeed I have. And as promised, I'll pay you, but only until I hear the finished story. Please continue, just how did these four cause so much terror?"
"Ahh, mostly Skye did the terrorizing. The other three were his eyes in the day time, his body guards, his helping hands in crime, though the child was really the mastermind. They spread the Monochromatic gang name throughout many cities and towns, bringing with them a wave of terror and unfortunately a touch of xenophobia towards the scarce amount of demons that held the monochromatic gene. Everyone expected the black and white creatures to automatically be a part of this group. This dangerous, carefree life style went on for about a year and a half, and now, my friend, is where Charlemagne enters.
"He's a death god gone rogue, exiled into a terribly lonely life and marked by the other angels and gods by chopping off his right wing. They were really just for show though, as most gods get around by teleportation. He grew bored one day, and it's an awful thing when gods get bored, for they bring about the worst kind of entertainment. He set his sights on the vivid, lively, colorful existence of the Other World and decided he would slowly destroy it in 300 days. This became known simply as the 300 days and the worst time through all of our history.
"The first one hundred days were noted as the "pre-apocalyptic" stage. Crops began to fail, the weather grew more deadly, stronger sicknesses emerged, and the economy began to plummet. They were subtle signs and no one really picked up on how bad it was going to become. It's on the 101st day when the world was thrown into absolute hell.
"The second hundred days were noted as the "apocalyptic" stage. Lava spewed from the depths of the world. The skies stormed and raged for twenty four hours a day, the seas began to open up and drain, terrible beasts reigned down from the heavens and crawled from hell to destroy, kill, and torture the Other Worldians. This is when he came down from the heavens and it was made known that it was he, Charlemagne, who was causing this. He stated on the 300th day he would return to finish the world off for good.
"Skye was very upset about this, for his thirst for power was greater than that of a mere gang leader, he wanted the world to be under his thumb. A complete and total domination on his part. But of course, how could he rule the world if there was no world to rule? He and his companions played the role of a hero to in turn gain the role of a villain."
"Fascinating..." Muttered Daniel as the waitress returned with another shot of the story teller's drink of choice. She looked to Daniel's cup with was barely half empty, snickered something about him being a lightweight, and went back to her duties up front.
"They slayed beasts, saved citizens, and tried to stop as much of the destruction as they could. If there were too many dead and too many cities destroyed, it'd be a hell of a time to try to clean up afterward." he swirled his liquor in the glass eying it casually as he spoke.
"On the 201st day, the terrible destruction stopped. the waters of the seas calmed, the lava receded into the earth, and the terrible beasts went back to where they came. All that was left was a devastating landscape of hundreds of thousands of miles of gray, dusty land. The skies were clouded over permanently from all the ash and debris. Cities were left in complete and utter ruin, some of them were completely blown off the map. Small groups of citizens did survive, but they were far and few between." He suddenly shot down his drink and slammed the empty glass on the table again, making Daniel jump slightly.
"Some say it was the god Averus' divine intervention, but a lot of the survivors found each other after months and established the city we sit in now, known as the Inner Sanctum. As for Skye and his gang? Well, they bid their time until Charlemagne would come down again. On the 300th day, he didn't disappoint.
"Perhaps it was by destiny, but the god touched down on the earth just before the four. I honestly think he wanted an audience for the last bang, but we'll never know for certain, will we? Before he got the chance Skye engaged him into a battle that lasted for restless hours with his three loyals backing him up. It was a deathless being versus another deathless being. One small slip brought about Skye's victory -- The weapon Charlemagne uses, a double-sided scythe, was knocked out of his just long enough for Skye to grab it himself. Using the god's own weapon, Skye drove one of the blades into his heart, releasing all the power he held. Though you can't truly kill a god, you can steal their power and leave them next to a mortal in power, which was about equivalent to death for such a high-powered being.
"But skye had done it. Charlemagne cursed his name all the way to Hell as he was forced to retreat. Some say Skye still has the god's scythe as a souvenir, I wouldn't put it past him for that to be true."
The story teller stopped his tale again to stretch, as if telling the epic journey had sent him on one himself. "In short," he began to summarize, "Skye was able to brainwash the remaining citizens by lying his way into an empire. they were all so mentally devastated that they would've believed you if you told them ducks were bright purple or vampires sparkled in the sunlight. They just needed guidance.
"I remember his words clearly, for I was in that crowd, but I had my wits upon me unlike everyone else. He told us that a terrible war had happened that turned the world to practically dust, and that we were the sole survivors of it. He also called himself a king of kings and asked us for our help to rebuild his glorious empire in exchange for food, shelter, and protection...and we fell for it. I never believed him, but I went along with it anyways to not cause a scene.
"We were able to salvage a surprising deal from the scorched earth, and within the month plants began to grow again and the skies began to clear up. It was glorious, it was the rebirth of a whole new world. His power has gone unchallenged because of everlasting gratitude or everyone who opposed him were...killed. Soon gratitude turned to humble respect and fear. And he liked it that way.
"So! This brings us to present day. I can't say its all bad. This world is better now than it ever was. We've lived so far under his rule for almost 600 of our years now, and he's brought us protection, medical advances, the best technology, and all the leadership we could ever want. Ha! But I could give less of a shit. I don't praise his name mindlessly like some others do. No, All I do is pass on information for those, such as yourself, who want it."
He held out his hand which was covered by the cloak and a black leather glove and beckoned for the money. Daniel in turn gave him a bag no bigger than his palm but filled with several heavy coins. The informer smiled and tucked it away in his cloak. "I have to ask you again, for curiosity's sake. just where do you come from, Daniel? What's your purpose for knowing our leader's history?" Daniel once more refused to say, which only made the hooded man laugh. "it was worth a try."
He stood up and stretched once more. "I believe this concludes our transaction."
"i believe it does, thank you for your time." Daniel said curtly, about to stand up.
"Oh! But wait, I'm sorry my friend, I forgot something important, and I fear I shouldn't say this too loud. Promise upon your soul you won't tell anyone this next bit?" Added the story teller a bit hastily.
"I promise, what is it? I told you I must know everything."
He leaned in closely, about to whisper something into his ear, when with a blinding speed he had his arm wrapped around the back of Daniel's head with his hand over his mouth, gagging him, and a bright white blade of a dagger revealed itself from under his wrist. He stabbed harshly into his stomach and muffled his screams -- Though, the likelihood of anyone hearing him over the drunken roar from the front of the tavern and the shrieks of excitement from the brawls was nearly nonexistent.
"You want to know my secret?" Came the cold words pouring into his ear. the man tried to writhe about, but the story teller's grip was far too strong upon him. He leaned over to stare into his face and as he did so, his hood pulled back just an inch and the light caught his face at a perfect angle, illuminating it. Snow white hair laid across equally snow white colored face, framing bright white irise with charcoal gray sclera. His right eye was covered by a black eyepatch with a large white X upon it. Black and white horns that usually stuck out horizontally were molded to where they held fast to th side of his head. His face held no emotion as his stare drove hard into Daniel's own fear-struck eyes.
"My secret is that to be a good assassin, hell, even if you're just a drone gathering info on your subject, you never say more than you know. Nobody knows that I have "killed" a god, for that is the biggest sin of our religion. Do you think I would have obedient followers if they knew that? Nobody knows of Charlemagne's reign that lives under my rule, but you spoke too soon, didn't you? If you had just listened longer, you would have realized they were all brainwashed fools. I bet you don't even remember slipping up in the first place, do you?"
Skye jabbed the dagger harder into his abdomen and another gruff, muffled scream came out. dark red blood began to run with tears on the mans face as the warm liquid slipped through Skye's fingers from Daniel's mouth.
"The only way you could have known was if you worked for Charlemagne yourself. My friend, I have eyes and ears all over this land. You're suspicious activity was known to me before you even truly knew yourself what you were looking for in my domain. The people who tipped you off to the "informer" were my people. I held you just long enough in my grasp to confirm you were a rotten spy, assassin, whatever lowly title that bastard has granted you. recalling the tale was more for nostalgia's sake, I could have killed you before you stepped foot in this drunken place."
He began to slide the blade slowly up the center of his abdomen. Blood began to rush out and trickle to the floor and he soon began to loose the energy to scream anymore. "Tell me, how does it feel to die? I've wondered for so long now." Were Skye's last words as with one swift motion, he sliced the blade right up to the bottom of his throat where he pulled it out savagely, tearing his jugular apart. Instantly the man keeled over in the corner of the booth, the insides of his lifeless body pouring out upon the floor.
Skye smiled and wiped his blade off with a napkin that he carelessly tossed upon Daniel's body, retracting the blade into its hidden holder after.
"You had way too much fun with that one, my lord." called the waitress' voice as she made her way back to where he stood. She made a face at the corpse upon the seat. "And you are just the biggest kind of asshole for leaving me with that to clean up. What is he, the third in the past month?"
"And there's several more rats to put out of my misery, doll." replied Skye. "This is the only entertainment I've had in weeks, don't dare judge me upon it. Lovely performance by the way."
"Oh I won't, my lord. And thank you, though it wasn't too much of a performance." She gave him a wink before walking past him to the supply closet to grab a mop and bucket to start the clean up.
"Oh Charlemagne~" Skye whispered, pulling the hood back over his head to a secure position and starting his slow walk up the narrow hall of booths to where the room opened up to the jovial crowd, still swaying and singing. "You're going to have to do much better than that to get your revenge that shall never come. Don't you know? History always seems repeats itself."
With that, he pushed his way through the crowd and out the heavy doors to where he melted away into the night.