In A Time Of Darkness

by Gregory James Knoll

  * * * * *

  Graham and Elryia continued along the bottom of Sharia well into the night. After Rhimaldez expressed his desire to press on—obviously eager to return to Ramia—they had decided not to rest. With nearly two-thirds of Sharia already behind him, it wasn’t necessary. Graham worried about Elryia, but she had not shown one sign of fatigue or illness since waking. It was almost as if the event never happened. Though curiosity and interest were still lingering in his mind, that was the only lasting effect the strange situation seemed to have.

  The most important thing was how Elryia felt. Graham had nearly driven her mad asking, yet she always responded with the same answer:

  Perfect.

  So Graham didn’t push sleep on her, despite verifying several times. They decided it best to return. Elyria nestled into him, turning back to look at him for a moment, her eyes catching Samsun off in the distance—still watching the back road. Curiosity wandered into her head, “Graham?” she asked, drawing his attention. “Do you worry that Idimus truly is planning something?”

  Graham thought about it for a moment, then another, “A bit. I imagine with each unsuccessful attempt to capture us, he will try even harder.” His face twisted, both in question and concern, “But he seems to have hidden himself deeper in his kingdom. So it has made me wonder.”

  “About what?”

  The Champion shifted, “If he has not retaliated because of fear. Or if he is lying idle because he’s planning something…or rather, if someone else is doing it for him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just…a feeling. Idimus has ruled for centuries and he’s dispelled his fair share of rebellions. So much that he’s left the world completely devoid of hope. Within those years, he’s rarely taken prisoners, lest to make an example out of them like he would have Rhimaldez—shown his guards what insolence leads to. But you are a well-kept secret, to the people, as well as his own guards. He need not do the same thing with you. You are a very valid threat to his kingdom, so it puzzles me why he would bring you all the way there. I am glad that he did, I don’t know what I would have done if anything happened to you. But it leads me to believe that he wants something from you. Since I can’t even begin to comprehend what that would be, I am left to wonder if it is someone else that requires it.”

  Elryia paused as well, thinking on it for a long time, “Then he may try even harder when we’re not ready.”

  Graham sighed, “I have had that thought as well. Which is why I ask that you stay in Sharia for now. You’re safe there and I still have things to settle. Hopefully I will be finished by the time you’ve met with the Elven Council. If not, I would ask you to wait. We can make the more dangerous trek to Mt. Forgas together.”

  She leaned forward, eyes staring off into the sky, mind wandering as “I would wait forever for you” slipped passed her un-cautious lips.

  “I’m sorry?” he asked, drawing close to hear her better.

  “Oh…” a blink and a clearing of her throat followed, “I’ll wait for Mt. Forgas, I would feel safer.”

  Graham nodded and squeezed her gently, “I would as well.” His gaze went to the clear night sky, “I wonder if Lanyan is patrolling, it would make it easier to find them.”

  “Aye,” she replied idly, her mind trailing off. “If need be, we’ll find them in the morning.” Grahamas turned his horse, guiding it along the right side of Sharia—drawing close to where they left the Elf and the others.

  “In case I haven’t said it yet… Thank you,” Elryia leaned her head against his shoulder, mouth dangerously close to his jaw as he whispered. Grahamas’ muscles tightened, trying desperately to distill the emotions in his head—praying that they did not wash over his face—as he continued, “For everything. For your help… For saving my life.”

  She smiled and the corner of her mouth brushed against his jaw line, causing him to take a hard breath in, “You’re welcome,” she whispered, “I would do anything for you.”

  “And I you.”

  She leaned further, her lips even closer, the urge to draw up and place them upon his almost overwhelming her. But the abrupt stop of Feiron toppled such thoughts from her mind. She composed herself and sat up as Rhimaldez gained ground behind them, Samsun even further.

  The Champion turned to them, eyes on Rhimaldez, “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  Rhimaldez slid off the horse, “Aye. I am planning to make the trek to Davaina. I have been away from my family for far too long.”

  Grahamas glided off, pushing his hands to Elryia’s hips once his feet settled, and she set hers on his shoulders. He led her gently to the ground where she straightened her clothes and walked to Rhimaldez. “Be safe,” she gently asked of him, wrapping her arm about his shoulders.

  He hugged her quickly, “You as well. Thank you. Truly.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The Captain perked his mouth and then turned back towards Samsun, “Thank you as well Sir.” He held his hand out as he spoke and Samsun walked up to place the reigns of his huge horse into the waiting palm. Rhimaldez looked at them for a moment before asking, “What’s this for?”

  “I want you to have him. He’s slow, but he’s strong. If you’re going to Davaina, he will be useful.”

  Rhimaldez blinked, looked at the horse and then bowed, “Are you sure?”

  Sam nodded slowly, now extending his hand and Rhimaldez shook.

  Finally the Captain turned to Graham, “True. You have my gratitude, more than I could ever express.”

  Graham bowed, then turned and headed further up the road—motioning for Rhimaldez to follow him. The Captain leapt upon his new steed and gave a brief nod to the others before he followed. Grahamas dug through his bag momentarily as he spoke, “When you get to Davaina, use this.” Graham reached up to place a tiny whistle into his hand, “It’s a large town. It should make it easier to find them.”

  Rhimaldez stared at it curiously, but took it all the same. “I hope that life brings you peace and prosperity True. You deserve it.”

  Graham bowed again, “And you, Rhimaldez. Travel well, safely and swiftly.” Rhimaldez turned his horse towards the northwest and began to ride away. “Rhimaldez,” Grahamas said, causing the Captain to stop and turn. “It’s been eating away at me… Wind Chaser. Where did you find her?”

  Rhimaldez roared with laughter, “Remember I spoke of Kaldus’ library?” Graham nodded, “There. Spoken of in a novel about legendary weapons. It was tucked away in a corner of the world, right where the book said.” His laugh turned to a light chuckle, “I hope that when you free the people from Idimus, you will also free the wealth of knowledge within that building. Be well, True.” And with that, he turned and rode off into the night.

  Grahamas sighed, knowing that he too would need to be on his way. He faced the others with a heavy heart, “Should we look for Lanyan?”

  “We would have a hard time finding them in the day light with such a dense forest.”

  Graham chuckled, agreeing. He debated on staying the night but as tempting as it was, it would certainly not help him in the long run. As sad as it made him, he had to leave.

  The pain obviously resonated on his face, then reflected on Elryia’s, “You have to leave, don’t you?” and he put his head down, and then glanced up at her solemnly. “Come, I’ll see you on your way.”

  Grahamas wanted that as well, but first turned attention to Sam, “Thank you, I could not have done it without you.”

  The bearded man nodded his head, “Anytime Grahamas. Safe journey.”

  Graham and Elryia directed themselves towards the road they had just traveled and began to walk. The moon poured down over Elryia, her blonde hair and tanned skin glowing with a soft, pale tint, causing her blue eyes to stand out even more than usual. Her chin and lips shaded and defined, Graham forced himself to look away

  One hand pulled the reigns of Feiron, leading him, leaving his other hand free. Elryia grinned deviou
sly and reached over, taking it in hers as she watched for his reaction. Which was faint, only a soft smile and then he gripped hers emphatically. Once they reached the trail, they stopped, both exuding their angst. They lingered there, each wishing they could remain that way forever.

  The Champion turned swiftly and pulled her into his arms, “Well journey. Be safe until I return. Aye?”

  She squeaked briefly from the sudden and unexpected encounter, but braced him just as tight, “Aye. Be safe while you are gone.”

  After an extended embrace, but too short for him, he released her and mounted his horse. Giving her one last wink before beginning his long journey west, and then north to his old home—a place he had not been since it had fallen.

  Both had been so deep within the moment that neither noticed the pair of eyes locked on Grahamas, nor the shadowed figure that followed him deep within the forest.

  During his entire ride, until morning broke, now once more on the far side of Sharia, his thoughts remained with her. How much she had grown and matured over the years, her strong resolve hidden within a humble, sometimes timid front. It was charming and it captivated him. How someone could be so beautiful and yield so much power, yet be so compassionate—so down-to-earth. Most days it amazed and stumbled him. He tried so hard to show how he felt, how much he appreciated her. But deep down, unknown to anyone but him, he was afraid.

  The Champion had rushed into countless battles and risked his life hundreds of times, never once showing fear—never once backing down or giving in. He fought, bled, and sacrificed on the battlefield, all without a second thought. This, however, was not the battlefield. Every outcome there he had planned for, he had learned to accept. That eliminated his fear. And although he had analyzed every outcome, some bringing him joy, there was one that he could not bear. If she didn’t feel the same way—if his love was not returned—he risked losing her completely. His life or limb he could tolerate parting with, his heart was a different story. She was the one thing he couldn’t be without, the one thing he would give up everything else for and that made everything he did—everything he would do—worth it. He could not imagine how to let go of something like that.

  His mind constricted further, his horse slowing…no longer guided by its master. The sun spilled over the hills, dousing the dusty road in magnificent gold and hypnotizing warmth. Grahamas couldn’t help but stare at the captivating spectacle, the definition the light created was a welcome change from the dismal night. The Champion no longer worried that Elryia wouldn’t find Lanyan. Anything would stand out in this brilliance.

  And something did.

  In the middle of the road—amidst the sand and dirt—a single stem shoved through the earth, blooming a gorgeous red rose bathing in the sunlight.

  Grahamas stopped and jumped off Feiron, kneeling down to smell it and then leaving it where it was.

  Knowing.

  He turned his head to the sky, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Good morning Lornya.”

  “Mmm…Good morning Champion.”

  Veracity, Corruptive And Disconcerting

  He turned to her voice, a smile blazing across his face like the sun upon the road.

  She approached, once hidden behind the trees of Sharia; a slender, tan foot now glided out between the leaves. A long, defined leg following and then a curved waistline, until she came completely into view. Fiery red hair that hung inches above her shoulders, wide emerald green eyes—sharp and attentive—and full red lips that curved into a smile. On her body a short green-silk dress, the skirt went down to the middle of her thighs while the top wrapped—barely—from one side of her chest, up and around her neck and then back down to the other, leaving her shoulders and back bare. Tied around her waist was a golden rope, the end hanging down on her left side. “It has been too long Champion,” she said, still smiling as she strode towards him, tiny wild flowers blooming in the wake of her footprints.

  He bowed his head then fell to one knee, staring at the ground, “Aye” was all he said, keeping his current stature.

  Lornya moved to stand in front of him, looking down with a playful glare on her face, “How often have I asked you not to do that?”

  Grahamas bowed even further, trying to hide his smile, “I believe every time you have seen me since the first.”

  “And how long do you persist in doing it?

  Graham pushed the grin from his face and stood, “How else am I supposed to show appreciation towards a Goddess?”

  “Like this,” she said, extending her arms. He stepped forward, to enter into them. “You’re too serious for a human.”

  He chuckled softly, “And you’re too relaxed for a Goddess.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she finally released him, “Despite your cruelty, I’ve missed you.”

  “And I you.”

  “All is well?”

  Graham smirked, “Complicated. But things are beginning to get better.”

  “I am glad to hear it Champion. I trust that the letter from Tallvas was useful?”

  A quick nod, “Aye. Do you remember Hope?”

  Lornya turned and began walking forward, encouraging him to follow. “The armor of Highlace, of course. Is that what the letter was regarding?”

  Grahamas took the reins of Feiron, leading him on as he spoke, “It was. The Duke has spread my armor all about, to save it from falling into the wrong hands. It told me where I would find the first.”

  “And have you found all?”

  The Champion shook his head slowly, “Half way. Hopefully, it will end with this last journey.”

  Lornya turned to him, thinking long and hard for a moment. “And the child? She is well?”

  “Elryia? Aye. She is well.”

  A grin erupted on the Goddess’ face, “Why the smile Grahamas?”

  He withdrew, waving it off. “I did not smile,” he replied, trying to remain stern; yet his jubilance was overbearing.

  “Grahamas Rhivaldeon,” she mocked awe,” You’re beaming! Do you like her?” she pressed her hand to his arm, stopping his advance.

  He halted, turning to face her. No longer with the strength to deny it, nor with the heart to lie to someone who had been so good to him, he said it—out loud—for the first time, “I love her.”

  She bit at her bottom lip and her eyes expanded, astounded to hear such a thing come from his mouth, squeezing his arm. “Grahamas, that’s amazing.” She bowed her head, “I’m happy for you,” she said and reached over, hugging him lightly again.

  “Thank you. I mean that,” he said, gripping her waist, “For everything.”

  A slight perk, “Everything?”

  Grahamas’ expression turned slowly to confusion, “Aye. ‘Twas you that intervened earlier with Kalinies… Was it not?”

  Lornya, with a genuine look on her face, denied, “Not I Champion, nor Yavale that I know of. What happened?”

  “We were attacked,” Grahamas sighed, “Ambushed by Kalinies.” His eyes stirred forth as he recalled the events. “When he unleashed his spell, Elryia…she acted as though she was possessed. Hovering, talking in a strange voice, remaining completely calm even in the face of such danger. She stopped Drogan, reversed the spell with a single word… I’ve never seen power like that, except with you. ‘Twas why I believed it was.”

  Lornya remained quiet, thinking. “Graham, do you remember that I told you she was special?” Her question prompted a nod from him. “There is a history with her that I need to tell you and there are a few things that I have come here for.” She stepped in front of him, drawing his gaze, “Though I had not realized that you were on a quest to retrieve Hope and I ask for now you continue with that. Everything I need to tell you can wait…” Her face soured and she looked down at the ground, “Almost everything. There is one thing that I need to inform you of now.”

  Graham stopped, then looked down to rekindle her gaze, “Aye…I’m listening.”

  “I have checked on you from time to time and I
have looked in on your group,” her hand rose to rest upon his shoulder—marking the seriousness of what she was about to say. “Graham, someone amongst them is not who they claim to be.”

  His face turned, “How so?”

  “I’ve read the auras of your group as a whole. Usually they are brilliant colors: reds and blues. Lately though, there is a black line swirling throughout; very strong and very dominant.” She held, thinking of another way to word it. “It’s evil Grahamas.”

  Grahamas was half tempted to return, “Who?”

  Lornya shook her head slowly, “It’s hard to determine unless we separate them. I can tell you though, that it has surfaced within the last three months.”

  Graham thought for a moment, “Jer…” he whispered. “No wonder he is so curious.” A growl raged on his lips and he yanked the reigns of Feiron the other way.

  “Where are you heading?”

  “Back. I can’t leave them alone with him.”

  “Graham…’ Again, her hand went to his shoulder, “Perhaps it’s just an emotion with nefarious intent. Jealousy, dissension… I’m not sure.”

  Grahamas still continued, “And if it’s not?”

  She guided him back to face her, surprisingly strong for her size. “Grahamas, do you trust me?”

  His eyes softened, “Aye. More than almost anyone.”

  Both hands now rested on either side of him as she kept his gaze, “Then trust me when I tell you that Elryia is more than capable of protecting herself. Your quest is important. It’s dire. When you finish, I will tell you why. Please. She will be safe.” But Graham still expressed worry, and in that moment—in that expression—Lornya could see exactly what she meant to him, “I will look after her. Personally.”

  “You,” the Champion began, “would be willing to do that?” And she bowed. “Why?”

  “I… We need you to find Hope again. It is crucial, as something lies on the horizon that only you are able to accomplish.”

  He could see the sincerity, the desperation, in her green eyes. That was all he needed, “Aye. I will.”

  She hugged one last time, tightly, and he felt an undeniable warmth flow through his body. His muscles relaxed and his fatigue faded. “A gift,” she whispered, “Travel well, safely and swiftly. And when you return, I promise I will tell you everything.”

  Graham nodded, both with appreciation and farewell as he jumped on Feiron with a renewed energy.

  Lornya turned as well, slipping her form back into Sharia, unaware that yards from her, another was locked on the Champion—stalking him.