Dark Descent: The Arondight Codex - Book One R Nicole (general ebook reader .txt) đź“–
- Author: R Nicole
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Greer laughed. Ugh. Even her laugh sounded like angles singing.
“You’re very—”
“Surly?” I finished for her. “Don’t worry, I’ve heard that before.”
“Recently, I take it.”
I nodded as I spotted the troll doll sitting on top of a pile of clothes in the leather armchair. My phone, wallet, and keys were beside it, and my boots were on the floor. Someone had polished them, which was borderline blasphemy. Kick-arse boots should always look beaten up and scuffed to hell and back. How else were people to know you meant business?
“Are you well?” Greer asked. “I’ll show you more of the Sanctum, if you wish, and take you to see your friend.”
“That’d be great.” I sighed in relief and glanced around the room.
“I have some new clothes laid out for you,” she said, gesturing to the pile of clothes on the armchair. “We salvaged what we could, but some of your clothing was ruined, I’m afraid.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
“I’ll come back shortly to collect you,” she said, rising to her feet. Realizing she was wearing an elegant black pantsuit with a shiny black silk blouse and sky-high heels, I raised my eyebrows. Corporate Natural? Business wear for demon hunters must be a thing.
Once I’d showered and scrubbed the grime off my body, I dressed, glad someone had the foresight to give me jeans that fit and a plain black T-shirt. Donning my leather jacket and shoving my feet into my boots, I glanced at the troll doll. That thing was following me everywhere.
Just as I reached for it, the door opened. I shot to my feet awkwardly and combed my fingers through my damp hair.
“Much better,” Greer declared, gesturing for me to follow her outside. “I trust the clothes fit?”
“Yes. Perfectly, thank you.”
Greer led me through the Sanctum, explaining things as we passed. We were in the residential part of the building where all the demon hunters had their rooms. There was enough accommodation to house over a hundred people, but less than a third of them were occupied. There was a fully kitted out infirmary—where Jackson was being cared for—training facilities, briefing rooms, an array of computer systems to help in the hunt for demons, a library, armoury, kitchens, and even a garden on the roof. There was a vault and a holding facility specially designed to keep demons in—especially the black inky smoke type—in the basement.
The building had hints of medieval architecture mixed in with modern touches. Paintings and epitaphs were displayed in common areas, and the halls were hardwood with insanely long carpet runners over top. Every so often there were displays of weapons—swords, spears, shields, and halberds—unlike anything I’d ever seen. Some blades looked like they were forged out of crystal rather than steel, and the designs painted on the shields didn’t look like any coat of arms I’d ever seen.
The Sanctum looked more like a museum than a demon hunter headquarters. I almost expected to see those little ropes cordoning off sections tourists weren’t allowed to go into and dudes with walkie-talkies poised to tell people off for inching too close to the artefacts.
After reassuring me there weren’t any demons currently being held down below, Greer took me to see the Naturals training area. The room looked like any other gym, though it was dark. The walls were painted black and the mats underfoot were a smoky grey. Spotlights lit up certain areas, while others were left to writhe in the shadows.
I watched as two men twisted and leapt, their blades colliding in a shower of sparks. It was surreal and completely mesmerising—they were like dancers putting on a performance on stage, like shadows armed with arc welders.
“Naturals train from the time they are children until they day they die,” Greer explained. “We never stop learning, knowing that our enemy is always one step ahead.”
“I can tell.” The way the men anticipated each other’s movements was otherworldly. It was like they were a second ahead of the curve before the curve had even thought about curving. “The swords… what are they exactly?”
“They are arondight blades as you know,” she replied. “They are weapons forged with Light, whose sole purpose is to slay Darkness. They are one of the few things in this world that can banish a demonic soul forever.”
I shivered, remembering how I’d stabbed the spider demon creature with Wilder’s arondight blade. It’d burst into flames the moment its heart had been pierced. I guess it’d been damned to Hell or wherever they went when they died for real.
“What is Arondight exactly?” I asked. “Is it like some special metal?”
“Arondight was the magical sword wielded by Lancelot in your Arthurian legends. Our arondight is made from a mixture of crystal, quicksilver, and carbon extracted from meteorites, then forged with an intricate web of Light at temperatures far greater than humans have been able to create themselves. The original blade has been long since lost, but its secrets lingered long enough for us to be able to forge our own.”
“Lancelot?” I made a face and sighed. “I suppose it isn’t so farfetched considering… you know, demons and shit.”
Greer smiled. “It’s not so much about the man who wielded it, than where it came from and what it could do.”
“Slay demons?”
“Yes, though the blades we forge in its image are pale in comparison to the relic itself. If we had Arondight itself, then the balance would greatly tip in our favour, but that’s another story. A very long story.”
“Where is it?”
“Arondight was lost a long time ago.”
“Oh…”
I watched the two demon hunters as they continued their fight, never once breaking formation or striking one another. Only their blades touched. Curiously, they were also showering the room
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