by Ross Turner
The graveyard was, for the most part, unchanged, save a sizeable addition of headstones that wrenched cruelly at Isabel’s heart, for still to this day she felt as if she could have saved at least some of them, if only she had tried harder.
‘You could not have fought any harder Isabel. You know as well as I do that we could not have done any more.’
Isabel smiled as the words echoed through her mind.
‘I was hoping to speak to you before I left.’ She thought in response.
‘I know you were.’ Ayva’s voice replied. ‘Cole is just like you Isabel. I do wish I could have met him.’ The sorrowful God told her.
‘Speak to him?’ Isabel suggested as she dismounted her horse, picketed him, and began walking almost idly between the gravestones, trying desperately to avoid the cold truth and severity concealed behind her final visit to this place.
‘You know I would only be allowed if there was the need.’ Ayva replied resolutely, though with obvious disappointment.
‘You’re speaking to me out of choice aren’t you?’
‘I did so hope to get another chance to speak to you.’ Ayva replied. ‘To thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me.’ Isabel replied sourly, even sharply. ‘I failed. I didn’t protect you.’
‘As I said…’ Ayva began. ‘Cole is so much like you Isabel.’
‘I suppose that makes it my fault that he has been chosen.’ Isabel replied quite harshly. ‘I was half-expecting that Zan and I would be killed too.’ For a moment Ayva did not respond, and Isabel thought, quite worriedly, that she had gone too far.
Eventually Ayva’s voice sounded again.
‘Why all this anger Isabel?’ She asked, Her voice full of sadness, even pity.
Isabel sighed and came to a halt before a tall headstone. Etched upon its weathered face was her mother’s name. She did so wish that her father could have been buried here too, or buried at all for that matter.
‘Why Cole?’ Isabel asked in sudden exasperation, the words forming desperately in her mind. ‘Why my Cole?’
Tears squeezed their way from beneath Isabel’s now closed eyes and ran freely down her cheeks. She did not wipe them away. She was grateful that their conversation was not verbal, for if it had been, her voice would have been shaking uncontrollably.
‘I never wanted him to suffer.’ She continued. ‘I fought so hard so that we didn’t have to fight anymore, and even then, I lost almost everyone that ever meant anything to me!’ Tears continued to roll down Isabel’s cheeks as her open admissions, pent up in seclusion for so many years, poured openly from her.
Ayva listened patiently and silently, Her heart still wholly with Her mere mortal and human friend.
‘Cole has been chosen for the same reason as you were chosen Isabel.’ Ayva told her softly.
“Then why can’t I do it? I’ll do it again!” Isabel cried out loud now, her emotion getting the better of her. Ayva’s reply was once again kind and comforting, with the patience of only an immortal guiding her words.
‘It’s not the same task Isabel. At the time of your confrontation with Depozi, you were the only one fit for such a task. And now, the same can be said of young Cole’s. He’s the only one capable of completing what must be done.’
‘He’s the only one who might stand a chance you mean.’ Isabel thought with sour emphasis. She sighed then and paused for a few moments before she continued. ‘He has so much power Ayva. I’m afraid to even begin to imagine what task requires that kind of strength.’ She received no reply, and after a few more moments she presumed that Ayva’s voice had left her.
Choking on a few more tears, she rested a hand tenderly on her mother’s headstone and turned her back on it for the last time.
Then Ayva’s voice sounded once more, startling her slightly, though by now she was used to the coming and going of different voices in her thoughts.
‘I told you I hoped to speak to you again.’ She said first, her words honest but blunt. ‘But I didn’t say I wasn’t speaking to you out of necessity.’
‘What necessity?’ Isabel asked, afraid. ‘Is Cole alright?’ Her heart fluttered at the thought.
‘Yes Isabel, he’s fine.’ Ayva laughed warmly, settling her sudden nerves. ‘As is your husband - congratulations on your marriage by the way.’ Isabel could not help but laugh.
‘Thank you.’ She replied. ‘Belated slightly, but thank you all the same.’
‘Thorn’s power is growing quickly Isabel.’ Ayva told her now, her words tinted with warning. ‘The Souls of the Ocean are feeding his strength.’
‘I know.’ She replied. ‘It won’t be long.’
‘No Isabel.’ Ayva cut in then, surprising Isabel with Her tone of voice. ‘There is no more time. You have to move now. Leave for Hinaktor at first light.’
‘What? Why? What’s happened?’ But Isabel’s questions were lost to the depths of her own imagination, as after several seconds she realised that this time Ayva’s voice really had gone. A cold sweat broke out over her skin and Isabel warily cast out a searching thought across the ocean.
That gave her the answer to her questions.
Why had she left it so long to check on Thorn? Again she berated herself as she sensed a hundred and more demons coursing through the cold, deep waters, spreading out in every direction towards each of the four islands. Even in those few moments she spent scanning for her enemies, she could faintly feel more and more coming into existence, an endless stream, inevitably being fed by Thorn’s growing power.
He had not released those from the demonic realm yet, but he was certainly creating his own and, Isabel imagined, each one would be infected by a lost soul, surely increasing their power tenfold.
Wasting no more precious time, Isabel snapped back to her physical body and dashed to her horse. Within minutes she was charging through the streets of Aproklis, screaming at anyone she saw that the demons were coming. The panicked mobilisations that ensued in her wake were surely the preparations of those veteran in pain and suffering - a sad but bold truth of this forsaken place, that she had once gladly called her home.
She burst in on her husband and son, busy concentrating on maintaining a small but intensely hot flame atop a steaming flagon of bubbling water.
“Zan! Cole! Thorn has created more demons!” Isabel managed to gasp between racing breaths. “We have to get to Hinaktor now!”
“Isabel! Isabel! Calm down!” Zanriath soothed his wife, taking her into his arms as she shuddered almost uncontrollably. “Cole.” He said then, looking to his son, the flames ceasing immediately. “Where are they? How much time do we have?”
After a few moments of concentration Cole opened his eyes and spoke.
“They’re still in the ocean. They’re wary. They’ll wait a little longer.”
“You’re sure?” His father asked him very directly. But Cole was certain, though he was not entirely sure how.
“Yes.” He looked out at the darkening sky. “But we should leave at first light.” He said very seriously. “There isn’t much time.” Zanriath nodded and looked to the innkeeper pointedly, who had rushed in worriedly after Isabel. He was a short, red-faced man who was probably a little too portly for his own good.
“Be sure that everyone knows. They need to be ready now!” He instructed the ageing man. The shocked innkeeper nodded in response and hurried to dispatch his stewards, waddling as fast as his legs would allow him.
Zanriath led his wife upstairs and managed to settle her. Isabel finally fell into a troubled sleep and Zanriath returned downstairs to his waiting son.
Cole sat by the warming fire with Rose’s head resting gently on his lap, her enormous body spread out across the floor.
The disappointed and contemplating look Zanriath saw on his son’s face told him immediately what he wanted to know, and he sighed deeply and richly, the sigh of a troubled father, as he wandered over to the crackling fireplace.
“Did you know Cole?” His father asked
him plainly, taking a seat on the other side of the hearth, opposite his son. He already knew the answer to the question he was asking, but he wanted to hear the words from his son. Cole nodded silently before answering.
“Yes. That’s what we found out at the Black Cliffs.” He replied solemnly.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
Cole was unsure whether his father was angry, or disappointed, or both. His eyes flickered as the dancing orange light bounced off them and all around the room.
“If I had told mother before we’d even made it here, she would have been in a much worse state than she is now.” He explained quietly, voicing his honesty. “I knew we had time - a little in any case. At least now the island is preparing, and I’m sure that makes her feel a bit better, even if only slightly.”
Zanriath thought for a few minutes and stroked his chin. His short stubble was rough from the past few days of unshaven travel and it’s grey flecks made him look considerably older. Eventually he spoke once more.
“That was a good thing you did Cole. I’m proud of you.” He admittedly honestly, his voice no longer so heavy as his son’s intentions came to light. “That’s quite a burden to take on alone, and a very selfless decision to make.” Cole smiled at his kind father, relieved.
“Thank you.” He said simply, and even Rose seemed to grin up at Zanriath from where she lay, her sharpened teeth showing faintly, shimmering like Cole’s eyes in the dancing light of the fire.
Zanriath rose to his feet, placed his hand on Cole’s shoulder for a few moments, and then, without another word that need be said, headed back upstairs to check on his sleeping wife.
After some time spent alone in the silence of each other’s company, Cole and Rose finally delved into the heart of their fears, addressing them together, resolutely.
“What are we going to do Rose?” Cole asked quietly as they both stared longingly into the waving flames. He needn’t have spoken out loud, but his voice was the only noise other than the crackling of the fire, and the silence was eerie and somehow pre-empting.
Rose breathed deeply and sighed, looking up at her Cole with soft eyes, still identical to his.
‘I’m here.’ Her voice echoed through his mind. It was simultaneously the only, and the best comfort she could offer her dear friend.
‘I know.’ He replied. ‘Thank you.’
‘Whatever happens, we’ll get through this together.’ She told him then.
The unexpected wisdom behind the voice of the young and terrifying beast, whom was Cole’s closest and seemingly only friend, comforted the young man greatly.
They lingered there for several hours before, in the end, they considered retiring for the night. But, neither of them wanting to move, they both fell asleep together where they lay.
They rested calmly all the way through until morning, safe and comfortable before the soft popping of the orange and red and yellow flames, licking their way up from the fireplace in a ritual so age-old that it would forever remain timeless.
29
The seasons, as they often have a habit of doing, were turning quickly, and the definite and depressing cold of winter was not so much creeping steadily in upon Tamarack, slowly and surely like a looming fog, but instead, hanging over it like a terrible, ancient curse. It was an evil beast, stalking its way through the ever-deepening darkness of the cold months, engulfing the kingdom wholly in its daunting grasp.
That night brought with it rain and, outside of Cole and Rose’s safe, fire lit haven of warmth, the trees and fields and houses and roads were blanketed with a thin frosting that almost certainly signalled the swift transition into the deep depths of winter.
By dawn the sky was clear and the sun peeked gingerly over the horizon, afraid that it perhaps did not belong so during this time of year. Ice, the remnants of frozen dew, crunched underfoot as Cole and his family made their way quietly toward the outskirts of town, not wanting to wake anybody unnecessarily.
Though their reception had been welcoming, Isabel had most certainly noticed how long she had been away for, as there were very few people she had known from her old life. Either the majority had been killed by the demons, had died, or had moved away. She prayed fervently for the latter, and was decidedly blue as they rode out between the scattered farmers’ fields, beneath the cold rays of wintry morning sun.
They thundered north as fast as their yet again fresh horses could carry them, though they could still not match pace with Rose - it was unlikely that they ever would. But nevertheless, regardless of how fast Rose ran, still it did not feel quick enough, for the truth looming always ahead of them grew no less bearing.
Cole and Rose bounded out ahead, tearing along tracks, commons, and fields alike, entirely focused on their goal, though they doubled back regularly to regroup with Isabel and Zanriath.
The task of monitoring the demons’ movements fell once again to Cole, for several reasons. First and foremost, it was still part of his training. But, also, since Rose could quite easily run north of her own accord, and Isabel’s mount required steering and encouragement, they decided it was altogether quicker and safer this way.
However, what he found was unsettling, to say the least. But, at least the demons, almost five hundred strong now, were still confining themselves to the limits of the ocean.
They all knew that their restraint would not last much longer.
At the speed they were forcing from their soon exhausted horses, it took them only two full days, riding from dawn to dusk on each, to reach the bridge extending out over the mist-covered ocean. The ocean that was by now swarming with demonic hordes, and it was safe to say that Isabel was dreading their crossing to Compii Tower.
Although they had no time for rest, they were forced to stop once more before making the crossing to Hinaktor. The horses were already waning from their overexertion, and none of them wished to cross through Compii Tower by night, especially with the demons lurking in such huge numbers beneath them.
Come morning, they continued their storming pace, charging straight out onto the smooth, flawless stone, their horses’ hooves no longer churning earth, but instead clattering noisily against cold, hard and perfect bridge.
The sound echoed out into the mist around them and faded away, lost to the vast openness of the ocean. Rose’s claws clicked and scraped viciously against the ground as she ran too, but now she and Cole stayed close to Isabel and Zanriath, feeling all too keenly the eyes watching them from beneath the surface of the water.
After a cold mornings rush through the mist they were all damp from running through the water hanging heavily in the air, and finally, after a nerve-wracking crossing, Compii Tower came into view.
They neared the enormous archway and slowed their pace slightly. With less hesitation now, they passed straight through the open doorway. Once again the piercing eyes of the four guards bore down upon them from directly above, this time positioned higher up amongst the narrow shelves, and they passed as quickly as possible through to the eastern archway and towards Hinaktor.
Like before, as they passed through, Isabel heaved a huge sigh of relief to be away from the guards’ cutting gaze, though she was grateful that they were still alive to guard the tower, for that meant that the demons had not yet surfaced.
But then came the scream. It was the high-pitched wail of panic and suffering. Reeling their mounts to a screeching halt, Isabel and Zanriath turned reluctantly back to the tower, afraid of what they would find. Cole and Rose too wished not to look, but could not avert their gazes, as even before they laid eyes upon the spectacle, they knew what they would see.
From every possible angle, all around the tower, hundreds of demons erupted from the black, bubbling water, surging from the surface in great storms. Their amphibious bodies cut through the surface, slicing through the air aerodynamically, before flippers and fins turned to claws and fur, and long thin faces became flat and snouted jaws, lined with powerful rows of razor-sharp teeth. All i
n a single, smooth motion, they flew through the air towards their targets.
The monstrosities came crashing down onto all four of the bridges surrounding the tower, some elegantly, some not so, but it mattered not, for they were all a threat. Some of the much smaller demons even managed to slip through the tiny windows of the tower and infiltrate the defences directly.
Hundreds upon hundreds of horrific beasts poured upwards from the water, merging and moulding and changing as they came plummeting down onto the immaculate stone, now tainted with evil, where it once stood perfect and flawless.
With a blinding flash of fire and a screech of exertion, the guards battled the relentless mass for but a few pointless moments. And it was exactly that. Outnumbered terribly and outmatched pathetically against the disgusting hordes, they were easily overcome, dismembered, defeated. The last of the four fell helplessly to the slaughter, and an eerie silence fell.
Then, close upon a thousand pairs of hideous, longing, nightmarish green eyes turned to Isabel and her family, countless lifetimes of longing combined with an unimaginable greed and lust for domination bearing down upon them.
“RUN!” Isabel screamed at the very top of her lungs. “NOW!” She did not need to speak twice. Rose and the two horses, in sheer panic more than anything else, whirled on the spot and bolted with renewed, fear-driven vigour, away from the teeming masses of monsters, and towards Hinaktor still.
Cole and Rose charged off, blinded by fear and horror, and within seconds, without even realising, they had lost Isabel and Zanriath behind them in the fog. The screams and roars of demons following them were dreadful, but Cole refused to leave his parents to die.
What was happening was his fault anyway; he deserved to bear the brunt of it. Rose looked at her friend sympathetically for a moment, her expression also understanding of his pain, and he returned her gaze with steadfast determination. Whether his anger and self-loathing was misplaced, it did not matter; he knew what he had to do.
“I’m sorry Rose.” He said quietly, almost whispering. She nodded selflessly, knowing instinctively, and even without regret, that this could well be their end.
