A Land in Shadow

by Daniel Whitman

  “It’s her,” she snarled, her fangs gleaming. “She’s pulling us about like her prey, turning us against each other for her own amusement! She may have saved us, but …”

  Andromeda trailed off. But what?

  Such power … No!

  “Listen to Andromeda,” SmibSmob piped in, shaking out of his despairing thoughts. He looked up with a newfound life, his blue eyes shining like beacons in the dark. Reaching up, he returned his pointed hat to his head, and his purple cloak billowed in the still air. “Listen to yourselves. She’s playing us.”

  The companions stood in a shocked silence. The air about them sparked with anticipation, waiting for tension to snap. The Captain’s face was an emotionless mountain. He would still fight. Ro studied Andromeda, frowning. Nalgene and Fasto remained still, although their aim remained targeted on the traitorous Captain.

  “Please,” SmibSmob pleaded. “Don’t do this.”

  Nalgene glanced over to the fellow gnome, and all hostility fled from him. “Me brother,” Nalgene sighed, returning his crystalline flask into the folds of his blue cloak. “Ye and yer fine noggin. Yer right. Bloody hell, yer right. It’s this durned woman, she’s bloody usin' us. Just like that durned Kraalek. Pullin' us like puppets.”

  Reaching up, he patted Fasto’s arm, and the orc lowered his bow, confusion saturating his expression. Fasto was hopelessly lost in the twisting webs.

  Rushing over to Ro, Margaret helped him to his feet, relief washing across her gaze. As she passed, she gave Andromeda a satisfactory nod. But her black fist was held clenched at her side, and its unforgiving cold cast a deathly chill in the still air.

  The Captain seemed unconvinced. He glared at Andromeda, his flaming greatsword still held out in a guard.

  He has to understand. Such pow — NO!

  Her thought was interrupted by her lust for power, but she buried the urge, smothering it behind a wall of hatred and denial. Her eyes locked with the Captain’s, pleading with him. He had to understand. It was the woman, the alluring and powerful —

  NO! Focus on the hunt at hand!

  Andromeda’s halberd disappeared, and she visibly relaxed, holding her empty hands up to the Captain in a display of peace.

  “Please,” she begged; her voice soft. Her tail reached around, brushing against the Captain’s side. He flinched. “Please,” she echoed, her voice gaining strength.

  The Captain broke, a twisting tide of anguish washed over his face. He nodded, and as quickly as it had come, the maelstrom of torment was concealed by his stoic mask. Turning around, he raised his flaming greatsword above his head, then lowered it down in line with Ashyla. The Captain’s eyes were frigid spears of fury.

  “What say you?” Captain Osann said, his voice low and steady. He planted his feet, readying to spring at the arrogant woman.

  Ashyla smiled, a most dazzling smile of the purest white. “My dear Osann,” Ashyla started, her voice gentle and soft, as if she were soothing a lost babe. She raised her hands to the side, displaying them openly in a sign of comfort.

  “Be reasonable,” she teased, throwing a sly wink the Captain’s way.

  He ignored her. His gaze hardened, and the inferno about his greatsword burst forth with ever more rage.

  “What say you?” the Captain repeated, his voice shallow and dangerous, and a cutting-edge seeping into his words. Ro stepped forward next to the Captain, his greatsword held firmly in his hands. The draconian fixed Ashyla with an iron glare yet doubt flickered behind the harsh barrier. Fasto soon followed, raising his bow and nocking an arrow, ready to strike Ashyla down. Even the two gnomes readied themselves against the Goddess, Nalgene standing protectively by his brother's side, his face a jagged boulder.

  Andromeda watched on with distress. She kept telling herself she hated the woman, yet, even still, she could not watch her die. Not yet.

  Such po — NO!

  That was not the reason, she had to tell herself that. She had to have something to fight for.

  Margaret appeared by her side, and she gave Andromeda a comforting nod. Margaret's icy aura washed over Andromeda, but she ignored it. Her thoughts were elsewhere. She remembered the prison, remembered the merciless precision with which Ashyla had slaughtered the undead hordes and the terrifying power as she leaped upon the dreadknight. Andromeda glanced at her companions, then locked her sharp gaze on Ashyla.

  They can’t win this fight.

  Around her, the other companions shared similar thoughts. Ro’s mouth curled into a nervous frown, and Margaret seemed hesitant. Even SmibSmob and Nalgene seemed uncertain about the situation. Fasto was just confused. But Captain Osann remained immovable, a towering mountain among the barren lands.

  “What say you?” he repeated for the final time, his patience wearing thin.

  “Please, tell us,” Ro pleaded with Ashyla, his voice shaky. “Why are you here? You saved us, and yet …” He trailed off, yet his gaze held firm, boring into Ashyla. He wanted answers, needed them, but they seemed as distant as when they first spoke to Mariah.

  “Why?” Andromeda finished for Ro, stepping forward. She studied Ashyla, trying to find any clue or weakness. There were none. The woman was flawless, a dazzling specter of beauty, and an endless well of power.

  NO!

  Andromeda shook her head in a vain attempt to clear her thoughts, but her gnawing lust for power tore at the back of her mind, and it was only magnified when she gazed upon Ashyla.

  Focus on the hunt at hand.

  She looked back to her companions, who stood as if on the razor edge of a knife. She had to have something to fight for. No. She had something to fight for.

  “Why?” Andromeda repeated.

  Ashyla shook her head, chuckling. “Pray tell, why indeed?” she echoed, her voice a melodious charm. She released her hair and glanced down at the wondrous sword still held in her hand. She sighed, and after a brief pause, she continued, her voice a faint murmur. “I mean only to regain what was once stolen from me, what was once ripped from my grasp. The land was at peace, but they tore it all away from me, and cast me out as a monster.”

  Her visage grew twisted with mania, and a dangerous, cutting edge seeped into her voice.

  “I mean only to claim what you children and that pathetic Smiter …” Ashyla paused, and a tranquil calm washed over her expression, replacing the harsh cruelty that was there. Her body visibly relaxed, and she smiled — not a deriding smirk, but a warm, open smile. A gentle aura of light seemed to radiate from her, giving her pale skin a delightful glow. Ashyla shook her head, as if shaking away the vile darkness from her enchanting purity.

  “You see, my dear companions,” she said, her voice a soft caress. “It is quite simple. I’m not here to mock you, or scorn you for your ignorance, or even turn you against each other.”

  “No?” Captain Osann questioned, a weary edge to his voice. “Because that seems to be the only thing you have done.”

  Ashyla shot the Captain a wry smile.

  “No. I am here for you, my dear Osann” she said, her voice growing into a thin hiss. Her eyes slashed across the companions, cutting down their morals with reckless abandon, before driving back into the Captain. Her soft face once more grew harsh under the clutches of mania. “You think you understand, child? You think you can turn away from the Shadow?”

  Captain Osann reeled back under the weight of Ashyla’s words. He stammered for a moment, before an iron mask fell over his face. “Why you,” he growled, locking his wrathful gaze upon Ashyla. “I abandoned the darkness. No longer can it hold any sway over me. I gave my vow, and I will see through with it.”

  Andromeda stared; her eyes wide with horror. Her heart wrenched, torn by the Captain’s sudden confession.

  So, it was true. All this time, Nalgene was right.

  She felt helpless, as if she were being tossed about in a furious storm. She wanted to let out a cry, wanted to strike him down, but something held her back.

  No, it doesn’t
matter. He has something to fight for. Us.

  An iron determination settled over her tormented mind, filling her with an eerie sense of calm. She had something to fight for. Her eyes locked on Ashyla, and she began to fade into the shadows, her halberd appearing in her hand.

  Ashyla chuckled, her gaze still focused on the Captain. “Is that so, child? Is that truly what you think?” she asked, her voice solemn. “You are a fool. I know who you swore your allegiance to.”

  Her voice softened, and she glanced down to her sword in apparent unconcern, her face unwavering. “It’s not so easy to abandon the Shadow.”

  The Captain took a step forward, his mighty greatsword held firm in his grasp. “You know nothing,” he hissed.

  Ashyla shrugged, unconvinced. “Perhaps not.”

  She raised her hand, and with a casual flick of her wrist, a torrent of black butterflies erupted from her palm, swirling on the ground in front of her. But as quickly as they had come, the butterflies retreated into the surrounding shadows, leaving behind the huddled form of a woman protecting her child.

  The woman was dirty and worn, yet a subtle beauty still shone through the grime. Her hair was wavy and brown, and her skin was olive. The woman would have been considered attractive, but next to Ashyla, she seemed nothing more than common. The small infant had not yet reached his fifth year, and he too was dirtied and ragged. But shining out through the filth shadowing his face were two, deep brown eyes, looking on with a knowledge well past his age.

  The Captain froze and fell to his knees. It was his family. A surge of relief washed over his face, but it was quickly covered by a tide of despair. “Elizabeth,” he gasped. “Kyle. It can’t be …”

  He shook his head, as if trying to clear the illusion, but still his family remained. He narrowed his eyes and he stood up, his voice deep and threatening. “They are dead, killed by the Shadow.” He shook his head again in a vain attempt to wash away the lie, but there his family still lay, looking up at him with wide eyes.

  Ashyla laughed.

  “Is that so?” she mocked, striding forward to stand over Elizabeth. Ashyla reached down and brushed her hand through the woman’s hair. Elizabeth glanced up, a mask of terror twisting her face. She tried to scramble away, tried to escape, but she was bound in place, frozen by the will of the Goddess.

  “And what made you think that, child?” Ashyla continued, still running Elizabeth’s dirty hair through her hand. A murderous gleam shot across Ashyla’s face. “I assure you; they appear most alive and well.”

  Falling into another fit of madness, the Goddess began to close her hand, digging her slender fingers into the poor woman’s head like a thorny vice. Elizabeth struggled violently under the pressure, and her mouth opened wide in a silent scream of pain. Trickles of blood began to seep down the woman’s head, and her eyes rolled back into her head.

  “Stop!” the Captain howled; his face torn with emotions. His eyes darted between his family and their oppressor, anguish filling their brown depths.

  At the sound of the Captain’s voice, Ashyla’s madness passed and her collected calm returned, washing away her violent rage. Her slender hand loosed, and Elizabeth fell to the ground, moaning and squirming.

  “How dare you,” Captain Osann hissed, taking another step forward.

  Ashyla smiled.

  Still groaning, Elizabeth managed to straighten herself from the cold ground, blood still trickling down her head like crimson rain drops. Her body trembled, but she attempted to appear in control of her terror. She had to remain strong for Kirk, and for Kyle.

  The Captain’s eyes locked onto his wife’s, and a connecting spark could be felt between them, linking their eternal love. Captain Osann gave Elizabeth a faint nod, a weary smile appearing on his face. A tear welled up in the corner of his eye, but he shook it away, his face growing harsh. His gaze raised, and his deep eyes seared into Ashyla, accusing her of her deception.

  “Release them,” he growled. No longer was there any doubt in his mind. He had to save his family.

  Ashyla smirked.

  “As you command, my dear Captain.” Ashyla held out her hand, and two inky butterflies appeared on her palm. With a flap of their wings the butterflies soared over to the Captain’s family, landing on their shoulders. The butterflies took a step forward, their heads morphing into dreadful needles of death.

  Before anyone could react, the needles plunged.

  Elizabeth’s head shot back; her face open in a silent scream of horror. She fell back, releasing Kyle from her grasp. As the companions watched, the Captain’s family began to flake away, disappearing into a horde of butterflies. The Captain let out a desperate cry, and he tried to rush forward to embrace his family, but a cutting glare from Ashyla bound him in place. Kyle fell back against the ground, crying uncontrollably. He tried to reach for his mother, tried to reach for her protection, but as his arms extended, they fell away into the shadowy insects.

  Andromeda watched in dread, a hollow void clawing at her stomach.

  Such po — NO! SHE’S A MONSTER!

  She tried to rush forward to save the family, but a crushing weight fell atop her shoulders, freezing her in place. She tried to escape, tried to deny that which she saw, but it was useless. A furious cry escaped her lips, but Ashyla ignored her. She was helpless. All she could hope to do was watch in horror as the Captain’s family vanished.

  Her eyes locked onto Kyle’s, and all his emotions came crashing over her. His terror, his anguish, his endless despair. It overwhelmed her mind like a raging typhoon, washing away any other thought. The last thing Andromeda saw of him was his brown eyes, pleading for a savior.

  The companions watched in a shocked horror. Rage billowed inside of them, yet they were bound in place, unable to help the broken Captain. Captain Osann fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. He tried to grasp for the butterflies of his family, but as he grabbed them, they vanished into nothing in his hand. After a moment of mourning, the Captain slowly rose to his feet. An aura of fiery fury radiated from him. His greatsword burst into a more furious inferno than ever, and he raised it in front of him, determined to strike Ashyla down. How dare she mock him? How dare she desecrate his family? His eyes burned holes in Ashyla, driving her back under the heat of his glare.

  “You will pay, fiend,” he hissed.

  Ashyla appeared unconcerned, her open smile taunting the Captain.

  “My dear Osann, be reasonable,” she sneered. “They were already dead, were they not?” The Captain gave no response, only taking a step forward. Ashyla sighed, and she glanced down to her shining sword.

  “How ungrateful. And I call myself generous …” Her eyes shot up, locking onto the advancing Captain. This time he did not falter under her glare. “So be it,” she shrugged, casually waving her hand. “Have it your way.”

  From behind Ashyla the butterflies reappeared, once again circling in front of her. The shadowy insects fused together forming two, vile zombies that stood ready. Their hollow eyes mocked any sense of life, and their rotting flesh hung in tatters over their nightmarish bodies. A wide jaw hung open, displaying rows of vicious teeth, ready to rend the flesh from the Captain’s body. One of the zombies was shorter than the other, and it seemed to cling to the other, as if desperately seeking its protection.

  The crushing weight still bound Andromeda to the ground, forcing her to watch the pitiful charade play out in front of her. Rage crashed against her mind, and she desperately tried to free herself.

  The two zombies charged at the Captain, their maws open, and their arms held out wide in front of them. The Captain shifted his weight back, and suddenly he was gone. He appeared behind the larger zombie, and with a fiery slash, he cut the monstrosity down. With an eerie despairing wail, the vile creature crashed to the ground, its lifeblood pooling out around it. It had felt pain.

  Ashyla smiled.

  Whipping about, the Captain turned on the smaller zombie, his face a merciless mask of reve
nge. The pitiful creature tried to swing at the Captain, but it was heartless, and the fearsome Captain effortlessly dodged the pathetic excuse for an attack. His eyes seared into the vile zombie, and it cowered in terror.

  Ashyla glanced behind her, to some unseen observer in the shadows, her eyes twinkling with glee.

  Mercilessly, the Captain backhanded the pitiful zombie, sending it staggering back, blood splattering out of its torn face. A ball of fire appeared in the Captain’s hand, and he threw it at the creature, showering it in a burst of searing flames. The bitter stench of burning flesh filled the air. The zombie fell back, raising its rotting arms in a vain attempt at protection. The Captain was unwavering. With nothing more than a step, he disappeared again, only to reappear behind the pathetic undead, his blazing greatsword targeted on the creature's exposed back.

  Ashyla laughed.

  The sword plunged.

  With a burst of flames, the sword erupted through the zombie’s chest, and the Captain raised it above his head in a triumphant victory. He turned to Ashyla, his gaze burning with hate. Ashyla laughed ever harder. Calming herself, she gave a dejected sigh, shaking her head. She turned to the Captain, a sly smile appearing on her rosy lips.

  Black butterflies fluttered off the two zombies. The illusion lifted.

  Andromeda gave a horrified gasp, despair washing over her thoughts.

  No, it can’t be … How could one be so cruel? She’s a monster!

  Hanging limply from the Captain’s sword was the charred body of Kyle, a pitiful scream of anguish twisting his young face. The boy's blood ran down the length of the sword, covering the Captain’s hand in a red coat. And lying upon the ground was the cleaved body of Elizabeth, a massive slash searing through her shattered back, and her thick, red blood pooling about in a scarlet lake.

  The Captain glanced up in shock, a desperate cry erupting from his lips. His mighty greatsword fell from his hand, clattering to the ground. He fell to his knees, clutching at his tainted hand. Tears streamed down his face, and his back lurched with sobs.