In A Time Of Darkness

by Gregory James Knoll

  * * * * *

  Grahamas remained silent for nearly ten minutes, only watching Lornya and Ristalln with leery eyes. They had veered off the road, heading to a small patch of trees, and then the Goddess waved them over.

  “Are we stopping?” Elryia’s gaze veered from them to the Champion.

  “It would appear so…” he gave one last look to the waning sun before leading the group to where Lornya and Ristalln already were. One by one, they approached and filed in, Gort nearly running his pony into more than one tree—still focused on the plum within his grasp. Most settled in the clearing, but Grahamas rode all the way to Lornya, “We are retiring for the night?”

  Still smiling from whatever she’d been discussing with Ristalln, she gave him a quick jerk of her head. “Aye. It’s important that you’re well rested,” her face took on a somber tone as she spoke to him. “The journey ahead is going to be very draining and very dangerous, I don’t want fatigue to hinder you.”

  Grahamas bowed in appreciation and the Goddess winked in response. That answer was suitable so he withdrew, giving his brother in arms a knowing look before returning back to the group. “We’re resting here for the night.” Each and every member he had given a plum to was still holding it, some concentrating more than others, but not a one had crushed or dropped it. “Well done everyone,” he said with a chuckle, “Truly, well done. You are free to release them, but I ask that you keep them to continue practicing.”

  Gort let out a sigh of relief and shoved it away before Grahamas even finished his sentence. He then turned oddly eager eyes to the Champion, “Now what would ya have us do?”

  Grahamas thought for a moment, then looked at the Dwarf’s waist “Would you mind letting me borrow two of your hammers?”

  “Of course,” the Dwarf bowed and reached down, untying the thin leather straps the held them to his belt, handing two of them to Grahamas.

  The Champion took them both in one hand and raised his other in a fist. Two fingers pried from his palm and leveled out. He placed one hammer, the thin pointed end of the handle, on the tips of his fingers. For a moment he balanced it, wearing a look of intensity as his hand swayed to compensate for the hammer’s movement. All his fingers extended as he flicked his wrist and caught the handle in his palm. “Thank you Gort, that will work.” The Champion reached over, handing one to Merial, “Swordsmanship, as well as control, is also about focus and balance.” As he spoke, he handed the other to Lanyan. “As I just did, I want you two to balance the hammers on only those fingers.”

  Merial gasped, “The entire night?!”

  “No. But I do want you to at least try to do that for an hour straight before you sleep. Do keep in mind, though, these are lessons that you should practice often, not just to get to the next.”

  The woman pouted, “Sounds like Lanyan and I are standing guard tonight… We’re going to be awake for all of it.”

  “And what about me?” Gort chuffed, acting as though he felt left out.

  “You, Gort, have already proven to me that you can focus by not crushing your plum, even with your massive hands,” the smile Gort gave Lanyan was wide and taunting as he walked with a bounce in his step to the other side. A chuckle forced its way from Grahamas and Elryia’s lips as he turned to her, “I am going to tell Lor and Rist that they don’t have to guard tonight.”

  With a gentle grin, Grahamas moved back to the Goddess, Carsis behind him as he caught up to Gort and Gnert, who was pedaling close behind the Dwarf. Elryia and Merial were left alone. Before Graham was completely out of view, he turned back and winked slowly to El as the flirtatious Sage slid slyly to the beautiful sorceress, “I wish one would look at me in such a way…” Merial said with a teasing glare.

  First, Elryia acknowledged Merial and then focused even further behind her to a sudden rustling in the trees. Jeralyle was clumsily fighting his way through the brush. As he walked into the clearing, he immediately locked on Merial and an innocent smile forced its way onto his face.

  As El gazed upon Mare, she wore a look of concern mixed with playfulness, “One does…”

  Mare could only let out a sigh, patting Elryia gently on the shoulder before following Carsis, all the while seeming as though she didn’t want to.

  “Are you well?” Grahamas asked, startling her.

  “Aye. Just watching everyone get settled. Did you talk to Lornya?”

  ‘Aye, then she and Ristalln wandered off… again.”

  Elryia giggled, “They’re adorable together.” The Champion however, looked skeptical. “Aw… Come on. It has to make you feel somewhat elated to watch your best friend fall in love.” Elryia reached out and poked him gently in the side. Though Graham glared, the very edges of his mouth flung up as she continued to goad him, “Come on… Admit it.” She jabbed him again, this time the tip of her finger was dead cold.

  “Ow…” Grahamas’ eyes went to his side as did his hand, “Why…” he snapped his eyes up to her and then tightened them, a questioning and accusatory look on his face. “Did you use magick?” Elryia blinked and then stuck the tip of her tongue past her teeth when she smiled; the look gave her away even though she didn’t say a word. “You did…” he glared and deep in his throat surfaced a low growl.

  Elryia giggled once and then again before her face turned grave. “Grahamas…” but he only responded with another growl. “Don’t be mad…” as she took a step back, he took one forward and then another. She retreated for several more and then turned fully, laughing as she began to run, “Somebody help!” she shrieked.

  “No one can save you!” he chased, not fast enough to catch her, only enough to tease.

  “They’re such children, sometimes,” Ristalln watched from the fallen tree he was sitting on with Lornya next to him. He cranked his head back, his hand resting on his thigh and as he turned it fell idly to his side as if by accident. It scooted further and his fingers stretched, searching for her hand. When he did not find it he strained even further, though there was nothing left to look at.

  With a chuckle, Lornya glanced down and intertwined her fingers with the Knight’s, “Aye… Children.”

  Ristalln squeezed and smiled as the two sat in silence, everything else around them becoming quiet, lest the occasional cursing from Merial. Off in her own corner, she held two fingers and stared intensely at the hammer’s head guiding her hand back and forth in compensation for its movements.

  “Are you going to be much longer?” Carsis asked, strolling up behind her.

  “Damn…” Merial muttered after yet another failure, distracted by his sudden approach. Yet she picked it up and restarted without a second thought, not once averting her eyes, “Don’t know.”

  “You don’t know how long?”

  “As long as it takes to do what he asked me.”

  “You know, he said you didn’t have to.”

  “Don’t have to, want to.” Her sentences were short, more trying to focus on the task than speaking.

  “We’ll, I’m going to sleep.”

  Merial bit at her lip as her hand swayed back and forth, slower this time, “Night…”

  Carsis placed his hand on her shoulder, tugging almost forcefully and causing the weapon to fall again, “Come to bed Mare. It’s not important.”

  She growled, yanking away from his grasp, “Yes, Carsis, it is. It’s important to me. To actually learn something that will help me right what happened.”

  “Do you really think you’re going to kill Idimus, no matter how much you learn?”

  Snarling, Merial gripped the wooden handle and turned sharply to face him. “No. I have accepted the fact that Idimus destroyed the only thing my parents had, the only thing they left me. And as much as it pained me to lose that bar, Grahamas had so much more taken from him, as had Gort. They are far more deserving of justice. Killing Idimus no longer matters to me. I am well just knowing that I did my part.”

  “I see… So killing Idimus does not matter? Perhaps neither do I
anymore.”

  Merial hung her head, not in shame but frustration. An instant later, it shot up and she moved close, whispering harshly, “You do. But other things exist as well. I cannot constantly keep you as the center as my attention, nor can I continue having this same argument with you. You matter. If you don’t see that or know that by now… Then maybe there is no hope for us.” When Merial looked at him, she feared she would see sadness; instead she saw hatred and rage. Carsis stood up and then over her, almost as though he would strike her, yet she followed him and held that same intense look—almost asking him to do so. No blow was thrown, only a crease seared his lips before he spun and stalked to the other end of the clearing.

  A moment later and a groan from her mouth, Merial dropped back to her seat, pain and confusion stampeding through her mind. Her hand searched for the hammer, staring off into the dense trees and losing focus. She wondered how she would be able to accomplish what Grahamas asked of her now, with her mind so clouded. But realized that might be the point. To concentrate and push everything else out of her mind and deal with what lay in front of her. That, at least, was enough to inspire her to try.

  For nearly two hours she did, getting incredibly close to the goal that Grahamas had set. All until another distraction appeared, this one in white robes, smiling at her playfully as he patted his satchel—symbolizing an invitation—and walking into the forest.

  “Tease…” she whispered, biting her bottom lip and then dropping Gort’s weapon without consideration and following after him. Her eagerness put her in such a hurry that she didn’t even take the time to notice Carsis was still awake and watching her. “Now where did he run off to?” she whispered, pressing through the forest as her eyes adjusted to the dark.

  “I hope I didn’t steal too much of your focus…” He apologized, walking up behind her.

  With a coy smile playing on her lips, she twirled around. “I can spare some,” her eyes flicked instantaneously to his bag. “You know, I’m a very curious person and you’ve been torturing me all day.”

  Although she was joking, Jeralyle seemed genuinely remorseful. “I’m sorry. I wanted to finish it before I gave it to you.” One hand reached into his bag, removing three separate pieces of parchment. “I hope it’s suitable, it’s rather hard to do such a thing on a moving horse.” With an understanding expression, he handed them over to her.

  “Let’s see…” She grinned, looking at the top picture and then sifting through the others. “This is…” she gasped, examining them closely in what little light there was, “This looks like… You drew my bar?” In Merial’s hands was just that, three sketches, one of the first floor, the second, and finally the outside.

  “From your descriptions, yes. I hope I got close.”

  For a time, Merial was speechless. Each drawing was incredibly detailed and patiently thought out—almost a mirror image of her real establishment. “Why…” A tear ran down her cheek as she stared up at him.

  “I…” He blushed and let his gaze drop to the ground; “I wanted you to have at least something for now to remind you until…”

  She gave a watery smile and stepped closer, “Until…?”

  “It’s a promise Merial. A bond that when this is all over, I’m going to help you rebuild it.” The Mage held out his hand to seal the vow.

  What happened next caught Jeralyle completely off-guard and he was unsure what truly caused it in the first place.

  Perhaps it was her attraction to him, or that in all her life no one had ever given such a thoughtful gift or made such a genuine promise. It may have been her earlier fight with Carsis, the same one she’d had with him since their engagement. Maybe it was that her feelings were finally overwhelmed and drove her past the edge. Jeralyle didn’t know. But something prompted her to step to him and wrap her arms around his shoulders. Something inspired her to kiss him—rather hard—on the lips.

  Shock made him whimper into her mouth, and he was unable to move. When she didn’t move either, he broke. As hard and as passionately, and yet as sincerely as he’d ever done anything, he embraced her and closed his eyes.

  After a much longer time than they expected, but not nearly enough for either, she loosened her grip and pulled away. He was lost in the moment, but when he finally opened his eyes, he worried that guilt or shame would reflect on her face. Yet all he saw was another tear and the sketches clutched in her hands.

  “Thank you, Jeralyle,” the woman ran her palm down the side of his face. “Thank you so much.”

  Jeralyle bowed as she withdrew, turned completely and walked away, glancing back one last time—smiling and looking upon him in a way that he’d never seen. Not even between Grahamas and Elryia, Lornya and Ristalln, did a look like that exist. Jeralyle felt his entire would crumble apart yet all the while shine more intensely than he ever knew it could.

  When she finally faded, a dozen thoughts and twice as many emotions raced through him. Questions about the future, which had lain dormant, now bit at his temples. He knew how he felt. He may have from the very first night he met her, but he had not said anything then and he may not even now. As many questions and thoughts as he had, not one of them involved her leaving Carsis, or Jeralyle asking her to. Of all the things he’d done, that would not occur. It was her decision to make and he would not persuade her in any manner to do so. Perhaps, and it was a shadowed, murky possibility, what she showed him had only been gratitude.

  He tried his best to make sure that’s how he saw it.

  For her, or others who may have witnessed it, it could have been more. Then it suddenly dawned on the Mage that someone may have. He scanned the forest, casting his gaze to every dark corner and empty space he could.

  Nothing.

  Jeralyle let out a relieved sigh, trying to calm his racing heart and giddy expression. He was so elated he walked on without ever thinking to look back.

  Unfortunately for him, the one place he didn’t search was the place Carsis hid, watching the entire encounter from beginning to end. Though overwrought with jealousy and rage, he held completely still. As loud as his mind was screaming at him to make chase and kill Jer where he stood, he would wait. Be patient. He was too large to ever sneak up and he was not fast enough to guarantee that the Mage couldn’t cast a spell before he reached him. As much as he wanted to end it here and now, he would stay idle until Jer slept, when he would pose no threat whatsoever.

  Carsis remained as close as he could without drawing attention, following the Mage to where the clearing began. Seeing the grin emblazoned on Jeralyle’s face prompted an ugly sneer on Carsis’ and again had to resist the urge to rush out and break his neck. He needed to bide his time. Even when Jer had lain down and closed his eyes, Carsis watched, waited. He had to be absolutely sure that the Mage was asleep, as well as all the others. He crept, with every step he cast his eyes to all corners, making sure that he was not followed, making sure he was not being stalked himself.

  All was quiet.

  It remained that way for an hour. The man kneeled in silence, keeping his eyes on both the Mage and everyone else. When he finally felt secure, he moved. But long before he approached, Carsis drew the only weapon he’d ever carried—his knife. Jeralyle lay there, breathing but completely sedated, Carsis verified, with hesitant steps. Each one that brought him closer was taken with more precision and more caution until he finally was able to look down at the man he had known for so very little time, but held so much hatred for. Then he lowered, his hands raised, bringing the knife up until it was well over his head. Only in the final moments before he was to crash it down into the Mage’s chest, did the doubt seep.

  This was murder.

  Carsis had done a lot of things in his life that could be deemed wrong, but never taken a life. Even when he’d burned Merial’s bar to the ground, he made sure that no one was inside. Whether it was in battle or in vengeance, this was a new experience for him. But so was the hatred and betrayal. Jeralyle—and Merial—had crossed
a line long before this. Carsis had watched it all happen. As hard as he tried to stop it, the Mage had ignored his warnings. He acted as he wished and showed no respect for the boundaries his relationship with Merial should have set. If he left it now, it would only continue and worsen. Intimidation was not his way out, nor threats as Jeralyle only dismissed them. This was his only option. That or suffer the inevitable outcome of losing her—something he would never accept. But how would he explain this?

  The bar had been easy; he had a scapegoat in Idimus. With a barrier in place and Lanyan watching guard, he could not blame this on a roving patrol or even a vagabond. A knife wound would show an act of aggression and there was no way to cover such a thing. This needed to look like an accident. Only, he had no idea how to do that.

  He lost hope. Despair ran rampant through his mind as he pictured his future—a future without her, where Jeralyle had her instead. It was almost enough to make even his dark soul weep. With a hard breath, he closed off his vision and turned towards the sky. He opened it again, finding the heavy, out-stretched branches of the tree. Faith rang anew. He had a plan, and it lay on the thick limb that stretched over Jeralyle’s head. If it were to fall, which Carsis would assure, it may or may not kill the Mage. But like he did with the bar, he found his scapegoat—something to take the blame for his horrid act. Carsis would end Jer’s life long before he climbed the tree and broke the branch to send it spiraling down onto the Mage’s body.

  With one last survey, verifying that no one was watching, Carsis slid his knife back into its pouch and reached his empty hands towards Jeralyle’s neck. As if in a trance, he crept them deliberately, methodically up to the other man’s throat.

  Click

  Carsis stopped and glanced around more thoroughly, but still he found nothing. Perhaps it was simply a twig under his foot, and he began again.

  “I would advise against that…”

  The moment he heard the voice, Carsis yanked his hands back to his sides and turned abruptly towards it. “Lanyan… I didn’t see you there…” When he faced him fully, he noticed the crossbow aimed at his chest.

  “I’m an elf. You won’t see me in a forest unless I want you to.” Lanyan raised the weapon further and stepped forward, prompting Carsis to raise his hands.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Better question: What are you doing?”

  He looked back momentarily, remembering that moments ago he had his knife out, “How… How much have you seen?”

  “…Enough,” another step and Lanyan tightened his grip—his eyes, “I know that you were going to kill him.”

  “You don’t understand… He kissed Merial.”

  “No, Carsis. She kissed him. I inadvertently saw that as well. I knew when you walked away something terrible was to follow.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Do you consider me a fool?” the Elf asked.

  “No… I don’t.” But even Carsis wasn’t sure about the answer.

  “For years, Carsis, I have been your friend. I know you better than she does, better than anyone. Did you honestly think that I could not see the person you truly are? I am not going to let this happen, if for nothing else than to spare you from a life time of regret.”

  Carsis face turned from innocent shock to rage, “Why are you taking his side?”

  “I’m not. If anything, I’m on your side. But this isn’t right. It’s only going to lead you down a path you won’t come back from; one I have tried to save you from.” Carsis stared at him blankly. “I knew… I’m not dense. I know how you manipulate, toy, and bully to get the things you want. I’ve known all this time. I’ve seen the darkness that dwells within you. And I foolishly thought that if I held on, if I continued to try and guide you, to support you, that I would eventually lead you back. But you’ve only worsened over the years. The anger, the rage, and the unhealthy obsession you’ve developed for Merial. I’ve watched her fade from you. Instead of winning her back you’ve forced her out. And now you’re going to kill the man you think is going to take her from you, when it’s been you all along that’s the problem. It… It pains me, because I feel as though it was I who failed you.”

  Lanyan hoped his words would have an effect, any effect; but Carsis was devoid of emotion and he stood fully towards the Elf. Lan’s voice had fallen on empty ears. Only rage and dissension was evident. Carsis, for years, had no desire to understand the things around him; he only fed the hedonistic side of his soul. He didn’t see that he was in danger of crossing a line, losing his fiancé and his friend. He still only saw what he wanted and desired, and only those that stood in his way. “What will you do…friend? Shoot me?” He clenched his fists so tightly that Lanyan swore he heard the flesh of his fingers straining.

  “No. It’s not my job to be an executioner. I am going to wake Grahamas and leave the decision up to him on how this should be handled.”

  “Grahamas…” Carsis took another step closer, “Why should he have any say in this?”

  “Because he’s our leader. And far better suited diplomatically to deal with this.”

  For a moment, Lanyan stared and deep within the other’s eyes was something the Elf had never seen before. Carsis always had some amount of hatred and jealousy in them, but not like this. He was hollow now. No thought or remorse for what he was going to do or what he was faced with. It was simply madness—uncaring and unfeeling. “Do you trust to leave me here?”

  “I don’t need to,” before Carsis could react Lanyan yanked his free hand up, placing his thumb and forefingers in the corners of his mouth and blew. A shrill, high-pitched whistle pierced every edge of the tiny forest.

  Jeralyle, being the closest, was the first to hear it and he awoke startled. He looked from Carsis to Lanyan curiously, “What’s…happened?”

  One distraction was all it took. When the Elf looked to the Mage, it was long enough for Carsis to dart away. “Damn…” Lan muttered, making chase and passing by a very confused Jeralyle.

  While the Elf ran in one direction, the rest of Light’s Awakening came from the other, Grahamas and Ristalln with their swords drawn. Both men, as well as the other companions, scanned around—frantic at first—and Merial turned a questioning gaze towards Jeralyle, but he could only shake his head unknowingly as he stood.

  “What happened?” Grahamas asked, calm but leery.

  “I… I am not really sure. The whistle woke me up and when I had, Carsis was standing next to me and Lanyan there,” he pointed. “And they seemed to be at a stand-off. Then Carsis rushed off and Lanyan followed him.”

  Grahamas turned a knowing, concerned look towards Lornya and then back towards the trail. “This way?” When Jer nodded, the Champion walked forward, sword first, Lornya, Ristalln, and Elryia following behind him.

  “He’s gone…” Lanyan came out before Grahamas had breached the tree-line, causing him to stop. “I don’t know how he got so far…but it’s no use.”

  The Champion’s eyes fell on Lanyan and then he finally sheathed his sword, “What caused all of this?”

  Lanyan took a deep breath, casting an apologetic look first towards Jeralyle and then to Merial. “I was standing guard when I heard Jeralyle and Merial talking. I wasn’t sure what was said, but I approached when I heard rustling, fearing an animal. Instead, I saw Carsis spying on them.” Jeralyle’s eyes widened, holding a look of shock. Merial held one of regret. When Lanyan saw it, he didn’t say another word. He would leave it up to her to tell them, if and when she was ready. “Something… something drove Carsis over the edge. What, I can’t say. I had given them privacy. However, I did study Carsis. Something… in his eyes that I didn’t like the looks of.” The Elf bowed his head and lifted a shaking hand to tuck the crossbow back to his forearm. “Nearly two hours passed and he stalked Jeralyle until he fell asleep. After which, Carsis knelt over Jeralyle, first with his knife in a threatening manner and then he returned it, seeming as though he preferred to strangle him ins
tead. That’s when I intervened. After I whistled, he fled.”

  All eyes cast from Lanyan to Jeralyle, searching for answers.

  “What happened last night?” Grahamas seemed the only one willing to ask the question. When the Mage didn’t respond he, followed by everyone else, looked to Merial.

  “I…” shame filled Merial’s eyes as she spoke, “I kissed Jeralyle.” Some showed astonishment, others showed nothing—as if they were expecting such a thing—and Lornya, though visibly concerned, breathed a sigh of relief that no one was truly hurt. “This is my fault…” Merial whispered, “I’m sorry,” she turned misty eyes to the group before letting them find Grahamas.

  The Champion thought on it. He’d seen many betrayals in his time, and much evil. Fleeting hearts and lapses in judgment—especially from a woman who normally carried herself with such nobility and honor—were not amongst that list. Others may look down upon her, but he could not. He knew better, and the last thing she needed was to feel like anyone else was going to turn their back on her. “Why are you apologizing?” he asked.

  “Because, what I’ve done is shameful.”

  Grahamas stepped up to her and pressed hands to her shoulders, holding her with a stern gaze. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You made a mistake,” he squeezed gently and finally she raised her stare to his. “We all make them, I left a kingdom I had called home for two hundred years to escort one prisoner. And in my absence allowed an army to burn it to the ground and steal every ounce of hope the people ever had. Do not be too hard on yourself Mare. Everyone is guilty of lapsing in thought and judgment, and many have done far worse.” From Grahamas, Merial moved her vision to everyone else, each held a gentle smile on their face, but Grahamas leaned in again and softened further, “Aye?”

  Lornya could still see the lingering blame labeling Merial’s expression. “Mare,” she whispered “even with my influence love remains a choice. While the situation could have been handled better, and more maturely by everyone, you made yours. You simply acted on your heart. That’s exactly why we’re fighting so hard. So people have choices on how they want to live their lives. If you wish to hold fault, I cannot stop you. But hold it for what happened, not why it did.’

  “We love you, Mare.” Elryia glided her hand along the woman’s free shoulder. “No one thinks less of you.”

  Merial found only expressions verifying the statement, and she nodded, a portion of her torn look wavering.

  The Champion squeezed her shoulders one last time before lifting his head, “Ristalln, will you stay here?”

  “Of course. Where are you going?”

  “To see if I can find him.”

  Grahamas guided his way through the trees and Elryia tucked in closely behind him, “I’m coming with you.” Graham turned to dispute, but the resolve on her face told him it was best not to.

  Even with only the moonlight to guide him, Grahamas could see Carsis’ massive footprints stamped in the dirt. Further out, as the brush thickened, he had to bend further, hoping Elryia was keeping watch since his gaze was focused so intently on the ground. “He could not have gone too far, not with his size.”

  “What do you plan to do when you find him? Are you going to hurt him?”

  “I only wish to speak with him first. As much as I disagree with what he tried to commit, there are other people’s emotions I have to be concerned with. As well, I’m afraid there are those out there that will persuade him further into where he already risks falling.”

  “Persuaded? …Valaira.”

  Grahamas nodded, “Let’s only hope we can get to him first.” As he pushed to the outskirts he stopped abruptly, just like the footprints. “…” The Champion turned a dreaded look back to Elryia as realization stained them both.

  Carsis was gone.

  Miles away, on the outer edge of Kaldus, blinking and trying to escape the haze that filled his head.

  “Welcome home, Carsis,” came a soft, almost manipulative voice far behind him, “I have so much to tell you.