TW: Violence

In a forest shrouded in darkness the only sound that could be heard is the leaves gently rustling in the cool breeze.

Oliver Cromwell was sitting on the ground under a tree. The ground felt frigid underneath his hands. He gazed up at the stars in the clear sky through a gap in the trees.

After a few minutes he suddenly heard a twig snap and a quiet crackling noise. Oliver cautiously stood up and placed his hand on the hilt of his rapier gripping it tightly preparing to draw it.

Cautiously walking out from behind the tree the leaves crunching underneath his feet. He stopped and stood there and began to search the darkness of the forest looking for the source of the sound. His heart pounding in his chest like a drum.

Suddenly he sensed the familiar yet terrifying presence of the man who threatened his life six nights ago. Drawing his rapier he began to cautiously walk through the forest taking slow and tentative steps while scanning the darkness as if he was a predator stalking his prey.

A couple of minutes later he was roughly shoved up against a tree with his rapier being dropped in the commotion. Oliver stared into Silas' glowing purple eyes and he also noticed a silver poniard pointed close to his throat. He continued to anxiously stare at slender blade shining in the moonlight awaiting the killing blow.

Silas firmly gripped Oliver's right shoulder with his left hand and pressed him hard up against the tree.

"I want to know what your true intentions are," Silas said coldly. "I know what you did before death claimed your soul. Now tell me."

"On what right do I have to tell you?" Oliver asked.

"You keep forgetting I have the power to kill you right here right now," he said moving the dagger closer to Oliver's throat. "I have never been afraid to kill. I have killed many in my life."

Oliver went to try and move away but Silas moved his hand from Oliver's shoulder and immediately grabbed Oliver's throat. Oliver felt himself barely able to breathe. He also felt the panic starting to rise inside his chest.

"I killed a man when I was only thirteen. I was visiting a cousin in Ireland. I saw my cousin die by that mans hand. So I beat that man to death with my bare hands then cut out his heart," he said darkly. "I could kill you here and now if you so desire."

"I will not let you know anything about my plans," he said his voice barely above a whisper. "Now leave me in peace and stop following me."

"I will not stop following you until you give up your intentions," he said while lowering the poniard down and over to where Oliver's heart is. "Don't make me do this the hard way. I do still want you alive."

Oliver cautiously gripped Silas' left wrist and began trying to pry Silas' hand off his throat. Silas silently watched Oliver and began to smile finding some amusement in the situation. After a few minutes Oliver loosened his grip and then let go realizing that such an act is hopeless and could possibly anger Silas further.

"I have seen you pray every morning and every evening for the safety of your children," he said while glaring into Oliver's eyes. "I lost my faith in the Lord many years ago when my parents and my siblings were murdered. I lost everything. I also had a wife but she died from a sickness. I left my three sons behind after killing the ones who murdered my family. The Lord knows that I have sinned and didn't offer protection to my family."

"What are you trying to say?" he asked with confusion.

"I'm saying that why should the Lord offer protection to your children? When you have ordered many men, women and children to die," he replied. "You have blood on your hands to. Men have also fallen by your sword. Yet the Lord still protects you and your family."

"I have made amends with what I have done. I have not sinned. How dare you sir assume that I have sinned," he said with a tinge of anger. "I was doing what was right for this country even if it meant spilling blood."

Silas loosened his hold around Oliver's neck slightly. Oliver clenched his fists tightly causing his knuckles to turn white.

Silas thought to himself out of curiosity. "I'm surprised at the amount of restraint he's showing. I heard that he has a temper. Yet he hasn't snapped. How long will it be until I make you snap? Minutes? Hours? Days? Weeks perhaps?"

Silas removed his hand from Oliver's neck and lowered it down to his side. Suddenly Oliver went to punch Silas. But Silas stopped Oliver by firmly grabbing his wrist. Dark magic began to crackle around Oliver's fists and Silas started giggling to himself.

"Dirty murderous heathen," Oliver said.

"I take that as a compliment," Silas replied with a smirk. "I've been called worse by other people who have a lower status."

"Why do you think this is funny?" He asked with confusion. "Are you mad?"

"I'm far beyond madness," He replied. "I have known madness since I spilled blood for the first time in my life."

Oliver went to punch Silas with his other hand. But Silas hastily dropped his poniard and firmly seized Oliver's other wrist. Silas glared into his eyes with icy silence. Eventually he noticed the dark magic flickering in an unstable way in Oliver's eyes.

He also sensed the instability in Oliver as if his magic was swirling inside him like violent storm that was raging continuously. This reminded Silas of the other side of him that he has been trying to keep locked away. Oliver's storm felt similar to the storm of his own that brewed in the background.

Once Silas released his grip on Oliver's wrists Oliver suddenly tackled Silas to the ground. Then he firmly placed both of his hands on Silas' neck preparing to choke him out. Silas lay there feeling oddly relaxed due to having faced death before.

"Go ahead. Take your time. Enjoy it. Watch the light in my eyes burn out like a candle burning down to the last bit of wax," He said his voice filled with an odd calmness.

Oliver sighed feeling the rage inside him fade away as if the storm inside him had calmed down a little. He then loosened his grip slightly.

"Stop threatening my life. Stop following me," He said with irritation. "Your lucky that I won't kill you. Because you are not a soldier and you have no honor."

"You are looking at someone who has more honor than you running in their veins," He replied. "I know that you have killed more than just soldiers. The men you killed out there were fathers, sons and brothers."

"What do you mean by more honor?" He asked.

"I have the blood of someone who helped conquer this land. Before this land was ruled by the English people," He replied.

Oliver let go of Silas and got off the ground and dusted off his clothing. He glared down at Silas who was still lying on the ground with a smile on his face.

Oliver turned around and prepared to walk away from Silas. But he noticed Silas' poniard flying towards his face. The blade glinting in the moonlight. Oliver felt as if time had slowed down for a couple of minutes. He waited for the right moment and quickly seized the hilt of the poniard. Feeling the lightness of the blade in his hand.

Suddenly two strong arms were wrapped around Oliver's neck and he was dragged down to the ground.

"Dishonorable bastard can't even kill me can you," Silas said coldly firmly grabbing Oliver's right wrist and forcing the poniard close to Oliver's neck. "Where's your honor soldier?"

"I have plenty of honor. Unlike you. You have never served in a war," Oliver replied trying to hide his rage. "Now let me go you heathen."

Silas snatched the poniard out of Oliver's hand. Suddenly he slashed a cross shaped cut onto Oliver's right cheek. Oliver bit down hard on his lips stifling a scream. Silas started giggling again upon noticing the pain in Oliver's eyes which were starting to fill with tears.

Silas then got up and wandered away from Oliver. He suddenly stopped and looked back at Oliver who was still lying on the ground.

"Trust me if I find out that your true intentions are not what you told me when you and I first met," Silas said darkly. "I will show no mercy."

Silas then teleported away the bright purple flash lighting up the forest for a few seconds. Oliver continued to lie on the cold leaf covered ground feeling the burning sensation from the cut on his right cheek. He also felt the warmth of his blood slowly running down his cheek.

Digging his hands into the ground he began to curl them into fists. Crushing the dirt and leaves in his hands. Listening to the loud crunch of the leaves and feeling the roughness of the dirt on his skin. Unfurling his hands he allowed the crushed leaves and pieces of dirt to fall from his hands.

Oliver got up and dusted himself off. Then he wiped the blood from his cheek using the end of his sleeve. He began walking over to his rapier which shone in the moonlight. Picking up his rapier he slowly and carefully putting it back into his sheath.

Gazing down at his hands he noticed that they were trembling slightly. Slowly he clenched his fists causing his nails to dig into his palms. Then he marched off through the forest in order to clear his mind.

***

In The Well of Darkness Silas sat near the edge of the lake where the raw dark magic was being stored. He couldn't sense Alastair or Cornelius in the cave.

Silas thought to himself with a sense of serenity. "It seems that they are still continuing their missions. At least I can now have time to myself."

Silas gradually took a deep breath and closed his eyes. After a few minutes he began hearing incoherent whispers. Eventually the voice became clear in his mind.

"Hello dear ancestor," the voice greeted calmly. "I noticed that you were holding back when you were fighting tonight."

"I didn't want to kill him I need him alive," Silas replied.

"Why do you need him alive?" the voice asked with confusion.

"I need to know his true intentions on gaining power from The Well of Darkness," he replied sternly. "That's why I allowed him to live."

Silas then sensed that Cornelius had returned to the cave. But he still focused on the voice in his mind ignoring the fact that he could hear Cornelius' footsteps echoing throughout the cave.

"But you also wanted to kill him didn't you?" he asked.

"In a way I did want to. But I have to hold back this storm that's inside me," he replied. "This part of me that caused much death and destruction in the past."

"You are hiding your true powers aren't you," he said. "You can't hide them forever. You and I both share the same amount of power."

"Ever since I left behind everything I promised that I would never use my powers to their full potential unless it's necessary," he replied with a hint sorrow.

Cornelius wandered closer to Silas and sensed Silas' distress. Silas then opened his eyes and sighed deeply.

"Was it him again?" Cornelius asked with slight concern.

"Yes Cornelius," Silas replied

"He wanted you to kill the former Lord Protector didn't he?" he asked.

"Yes he did," he replied. "But I need the former Lord Protector alive."

Cornelius thought to himself with slight confusion. "It's rare that Silas would spare someone's life. Especially after a fight."

Silas then slowly removed his hood from his head revealing his short and wavy raven colored hair. Along with his sapphire eyes. Placing his hands into the frigid water he scooped some water out of the lake. Then he threw the water onto his face removing any dirt from the fight.

Silas then got up off the cold rocky ground and put his hood back over his head. Turning around he stared at Cornelius and he sensed the concern that was brewing inside him.

"What's wrong Cornelius?" Silas asked.

"I'm concerned about you," Cornelius replied. "I know that you do occasionally have these outbursts."

"I have to keep some of my power locked away," He said.

"It's not good for you though," He replied with a sense of anxiety "Someone with such powerful magic as you shouldn't be trying to keep their powers dormant. It does take it's toll. It's not easy to force that much power into containment."

Silas sighed out of realization that he won't be able to continue with trying to keep his true power contained. Cornelius then gently placed his on Silas' shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I know that you promised to yourself that you would never use your true powers after what happened in the past," Cornelius stated calmly. "But you can't bottle that much power up. At least not anymore you can't."

"I understand but I will only use them when necessary," Silas responded.

"I shall alert you when Alastair is back," he said while removing his hand from Silas' shoulder.

"Thank you Cornelius," he replied with a nod.

Silas then wandered off into one of the many tunnels in the cave. Leaving Cornelius alone with his thoughts.

***

In a tavern in Birmingham a teenage boy with short scruffy blonde hair, emerald eyes who was wearing a beige waistcoat, brown breeches and black shoes went behind the bar section. He then walked over to a man with short straight jet black hair, forest green eyes who was wearing a black waistcoat, black breeches and black shoes.

The man noticed the teenage boy was holding a letter in his hand.

"Mr. Arlington Wakefield I have an important letter. It's addressed to you and your brothers," the teenage boy said.

"Thank you," Arlington replied gently grabbing the letter from the boys hand.

Arlington Wakefield placed his hands on the wooden bar table feeling the rough texture on his hands. He looked out across the tavern and he noticed everyone gathering around one table. The teenage boy then wandered over to the gathering crowd and joined it.

Suddenly a man with short wavy dark brown hair, sapphire eyes and a beard who was wearing a crimson waistcoat, a black coat, black breeches and black shoes climbed up onto the table. The man was holding a tin mug full of beer.

"Fellow citizens of Birmingham. It is the most glorious year of 1661 and our most gracious King is back in charge," the man said cheerfully. "This is truly a glorious year."

The man then took a sip of his beer then he raised the mug high in the air.

"So God save our most gracious King Charles the second!" the man cheered.

Everyone else then started chanting "God save the King!"

A man with short wavy jet black hair, sapphire eyes and a finely trimmed mustache who was wearing a sky blue waistcoat, a black coat, black breeches and black shoes strolled over to Arlington Wakefield and stood beside him.

"Good evening brother," the man greeted.

"Good evening Curtis," Arlington replied politely.

"Any news brother?" Curtis asked.

Arlington placed the letter down on the bar and he continued looking out at the crowd who were still chanting. Also that the man was still hyping up the crowd.

"Percy gave me this important letter that is addressed to me, you and Alfie," Arlington said.

"Seems that Alfie is highly preoccupied," Curtis replied with a chuckle.

"Well he needs to come over here and read this important letter," he said. "Please get his attention."

Curtis loudly whistled and Alfie awkwardly looked over at Curtis who was gesturing Alfie to come over. Alfie then hopped down off the table and the crowd moved moved out of the way and began to head back to their tables so Alfie could make his way to the bar. Alfie then rushed behind the bar and stood beside his two brothers and placed his tin mug full of beer down on the bar table.

"What is it Arlington?" Alfie asked.

"Important letter for all three of us I needed you over here so we can all know what is going on," Arlington replied.

Arlington then grabbed the letter off of the top of the bar. He then unfolded letter and began to carefully read the it.

Arlington, Curtis and Alfie Wakefield I once again need your assistance with something very important.

I went to Westminster Abbey and supervised the people who were planning to dig up the former Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell. But there was no body in the tomb and I noticed that this plaque was covered in blood and there was a dagger left behind.

Now I'm sure that you three know that powerful spells require a blood sacrifice. I have a feeling that the former Lord Protectors son Richard Cromwell has done the resurrection spell on his father.

But I couldn't properly sense if Oliver Cromwell has returned to this world. Because I have allowed my powers to go dormant.

So I require you all to come to London as soon as possible. The King needs to know if Oliver Cromwell lives. If he does live I suggest that you prepare to find him.

Lord Thomas Fairfax.

Arlington folded the letter back up and placed it in one of the pockets of his breeches.

"Well what did it say Arlington?" Curtis asked with curiosity.

"Lord Fairfax needs our help with figuring out if the former Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell has returned. We need to go to London boys," Arlington replied. "We also might have to possibly be prepared to search for Oliver Cromwell if he does live."

"I highly doubt that Oliver Cromwell lives," Alfie said. "It's very difficult for anyone to do the resurrection spell without killing themselves."

"Still we need to head to London on the request of Lord Fairfax. Now Alfie go get the guns. It's hunting season," Arlington replied.

Alfie then walked over to a nearby door and opened it then exited the room closing the door behind himself.

Suddenly a man with short curly ginger hair and sky blue eyes who was wearing a forest green waistcoat, a brown coat, beige breeches and jet black boots entered the tavern. Arlington and Curtis immediately looked over at the man. The man walked over in front of the bar and Curtis grinned at the man.

"Well hello Curtis and Arlington it's a very fine evening isn't it," the man said politely.

"It is indeed a very fine evening Archie," Curtis replied.

"So what are you two planning on this fine evening?" Archie asked.

"We are planning to go to London. We have a mission to do on the orders of Lord Fairfax," Arlington replied.

Alfie then came back into the bar with two flintlock pistols in his holsters, two flintlock pistols in his hands and one flintlock musket slung over his shoulder. Alfie strolled over to Arlington and handed him one of the flintlock pistols. Arlington then placed it in his holster. Alfie then handed the other flintlock pistol to Curtis who placed it in his holster.

Curtis then checked the inside of his coat and began to silently count all of the throwing knives that he was hiding.

"Still the King of blades Curtis?" Archie asked. "How many blades do you have?"

"Around ten throwing knives and two daggers," Curtis replied. "Also am I really known as 'the King of blades'?"

"Well to me you are known as that," he said.

"I actually like that title very much. I might actually use it," he replied.

Curtis then began to do up the buttons on his coat. Alfie started doing the same as Curtis. Archie then started leaning up against the bar table.

"So I'm guessing that you three will want me to run the place while you are gone?" Archie asked.

"Yes that will be very kind of you my friend," Arlington replied.

"So what does Lord Fairfax need help with this time?" he asked with a hint of curiosity.

"According to him the former Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell might be alive again," he replied. "But he needs our help to confirm that and possibly hunt down Oliver Cromwell."

Archie's eyes widened with shock and slight fear. Then he began to pace around anxiously and Alfie grabbed his mug of beer and drank the rest of it. Archie continued to pace around.

Archie anxiously thought to himself. "Oliver Cromwell should be dead. It's impossible for him to be alive. It's been year's since someone has ever completed the resurrection spell without dying because of it! It's practically impossible!"

Arlington noticed Archie's anxious pacing and he went around to the other side of the bar. Then he placed his hand on Archie's shoulder which stopped Archie from pacing around. Archie then turned around and gazed deeply into Arlington's eyes.

Arlington started sensing the immense amount of anxiety and fear swirling inside Archie. Archie's eyes started to faintly glow purple.

"Archie what are you thinking about?" Arlington asked.

"It's just that it's practically impossible for Oliver Cromwell to be alive," Archie replied. "I'm sure that you understand that it's been year's since someone completed the resurrection spell without dying."

"Archie we know that and we believe that Oliver Cromwell is still dead," he said. "But yet we still have to go see Lord Fairfax and you my friend have to run the bar."

Archie's eyes stopped glowing and changed back to their normal sky blue and he politely nodded. Arlington removed his hand from Archie's shoulder. Then he went back behind the bar and Archie followed him.

"We will see you when we get back Archie," he said as he made his way to the tavern door. "Now come on you two we have a long journey to London."

"I'm with you Arlington. Now come on Alfie," Curtis replied while following Arlington to the entrance to the tavern.

"I'm on it King of blades. I mean Curtis," Alfie said while following Curtis and Arlington to the entrance to the tavern.

Arlington held out his hand and the large wooden door opened. Arlington, Curtis and Alfie walked out into the cold darkness. Rain was starting to gently fall onto the dirt path which was already slightly wet from the previous days rainfall.

Curtis began to whistle a soft and yet haunting tune which seemed to echo in the darkness. Alfie kept an eye on his surroundings as if he felt like he was being watched by some unseen force. While Arlington focused on the path ahead.

"Do you really think that the former Lord Protector lives?" Alfie asked.

"I highly doubt that he lives it's possibly just Lord Fairfax's magic playing up," Arlington replied. "I mean his magic has been dormant since Oliver Cromwell died."

"That is indeed true," he said.

The three brothers continued their walk down the dark and desolate streets.

***

Back in the forest Oliver Cromwell sat in front of a small fire. Which crackled loudly rapidly burning the fuel source as if it was a wild animal that had been starved and finally found a meal.

Gazing into the flames Oliver suddenly started to hear incoherent whispers. Which caused him to immediately stand up and prepare to draw his rapier. He began to look around at the darkness of the forest and started to see multiple pairs of dark purple eyes staring at him.

Oliver's heart started pounding in his chest. The whispers then changed into one clear voice which repeated in his mind.

"They are coming,"

"Death will come to claim you,"

"I sense your fear and I love it,"

Oliver squeezed his eyes shut and placed his hands over his ears.

"Get out of my head!" Oliver yelled out of fear and desperation. "My mind is not yours to control! Now get out!"

The voice slowly faded away and Oliver removed his hands from his ears and lowered them down to his sides. Upon opening his eyes he saw nothing in the darkness and only heard the sound of the fire crackling. Then he sat down and looked down at his hands which were trembling slightly.

Oliver sat there in silence too alert to rest and decided to stare into the darkness still feeling like that someone was watching.