Realm Book Three - Illuminated Death

by K. A. M'Lady

  Another black ball of power slammed into me and this time, I opened myself to it. I let the rot, the suffering and the madness fill me up and bowl me over. Darkness swam before my eyes, a thousand crying, whimpering voices rang out in sadness like a suffering, hollow wind echoing in my ears. It was there, amidst all those wee, sad voices that I heard one soul stutter in the Shadows of them all.

  It was her voice. Soft and lonely, rich and melodic. Crying out against the tyranny and the madness of it all. It was the voice of a wee, frightened child of the Light, wandering, adrift and alone in the Darkness.

  I knew who she was. And I knew how to save her. The question was, could I do it? Did I want to do it? Did I really have a choice?

  “You will all die here tonight!” Lady Arwin shrieked.

  She let loose another ball of power and I moved, stood up and stepped into it, only to crumple backwards against the dirt-covered floor, pain running in searing spikes through all of my limbs. This time, my scream echoed with Drae’s. I gasped and the moment the pain and pressure touched my bones, slithered up my muscles and found a home in the fear of my heart, I knew what it dwelt on. Knew what it dwelt on, and how to defeat it.

  “You pathetic bitch!” I bellowed, and Lady Arwin sent another ball of power my way.

  “You’re nothing! Nothing but a has-been Pixie who will never see the Light,” I told her. Her growl of annoyance and the wavering of Drae’s soul told me that what I was doing was working. And I dared not think about it for she would hear my thoughts.

  “You don’t have the wings to be both a Child of Light and a Child of Darkness, you pathetic castoff Pixie bitch,” I told her. “You’re even more pathetic than my mother.”

  I think it was the mother comment that did it, for she turned away from Xavier and focused the full force of her dark power directly at me. She sent all of her dark, vile hatefulness towards me in one large black sphere of angst.

  The instant that power rolled from her fingers, I opened my mind and did what no one in my family had ever done before me. I did what none of them had ever had the courage, will or sheer determination to do, and would never understand.

  I took the Darkness inside of me. I accepted it and her. All of it. I took it deep inside of me, where those wandering voices cried. Absorbed it down into the well of my being and using my Tell of Calling, I called Lady Arwin’s Darkness.

  I called her Darkness to me like the deranged calling home an errant madness. I reached with my mind, into the Shadow Lands, shoveling past layers and layers of grime, film and filth. I delved past wandering souls, muttering fools and disgruntled poltergeist. I barreled my way through the Darkness with one purpose and one purpose alone...To find the child of her soul. To seek out her misplaced and misguided child of Light.

  It was with this absurd will and certainty that I called her Darkness to me. Called to it and claimed it like it was my own. Then, and only then, did I call her Light.

  With a burning ray of forgotten hope, a force filled me like a switch had been thrown and lightning ripped up my spine. It was spellbinding, body-numbing and ferocious. A brilliant red haze erupted through my mind, blinding in a moment of uncertainty before it washed over my limbs like hot lava and jammed all the air I had left in my lungs.

  It felt as though my body were being ripped in two. Part of me dunked in a boiling cauldron of tar then set aflame while a million screaming voices raged against me, the other half drifting aimlessly. Shuffling around in an icy, fog-filled storm. I wasn’t quite sure where the Darkness of Lady Arwin resided and the lost child of Light wandered. My head was a wreck, my body on fire.

  For a moment I thought this might be easy. Yeah, right.

  I stumbled forward, my legs too wobbly to hold me. The force of power rippling through my body, staggered me. Tore at my mind. My eyes swam with crimson patches. With outstretched hands I blindly searched through the fog, seeking her beleaguered child. Seeking the power I hoped was right.

  Lady Arwin’s cackling laughter echoed through the chamber just before she slammed me with yet another bolt of Darkness. The instant the sludgy stain flowed over me, I suddenly knew which side was up, where I was headed and what I needed to do.

  I could feel the rot sloughing off my flesh like melting skin. Hear the cries of whimpering souls that filled the fog; each one piercing my soul with sadness. I stumbled again and felt the slickness of the Vortex trickle over my fingers like soapy rain. I knew then that I had tottered far and was once again inside the Vortex. This time, we were on even ground.

  I knew when she was sending the next ball of Darkness at me and again, I accepted it, wholly. I took it into me and made it my own. Her anger pierced the chamber and she rallied another ball, then another. I took these as well.

  Her Darkness was nothing to me. Just a place for the Darkness to enter and exit. A portal to slide into and through. I wondered what she would do if the tables were turned.

  Her screams grew frantic with each ineffective volley she threw at me. Her power limited, as it was, within this realm. Now that I was inside her world with her there was even less she could do without fear of hurting herself. Without worry that the chaos she reigned would be turned in her direction. Hell was, after all, Hell. And it was time to see if she could suffer the recumbence of her pain.

  With half of my mind entrenched in the Shadow Lands, feeling my way through the madness, searching for the shunned spirit of who she used to be, I opened myself, just that little bit more, to the Light. It was a whisper among a million screaming voices. A tiny, miniscule breath in the storm of a murky darkness. With all the power and control that I could muster, I slowly, softly Called to her child of Light. Like the innocence of a childhood lost, her Light came to me, filled me up and slammed closed the door to the Darkness.

  Lady Arwin lay on the middle of the chamber floor thrashing and screaming. Her arms flailed as she beat the ground with rounded fists, her no, no, no’s of hysteria ricocheting off the stone edifice of the room. Around us the grandeur of the room had been stripped away, leaving nothing in its place but a barren room of stone and a simple cot, her magic and her glamour stripped away with the taking of what little Light remained to her.

  It was now time to take her Darkness.

  Kneeling at her side, I placed my palm on her heart and one on her head. Wide-eyed, body now rigged with her own vexing fear, she looked on me…me, with horror.

  “Soul stealer,” she coarsely whispered.

  These same words had been uttered by my Queen the night I’d taken her Light. Maybe they were true. At the moment, I didn’t have the time to worry about it. Lady Arwin’s madness needed to end. Before she hurt herself or anyone else.

  With a deep sigh holding something close to regret I bowed my head and whispered, “I’m sorry.” Then I closed my eyes and Called her Darkness into myself. I let it cascade through me like a deep, dark wave from a black and endless ocean. I let it roll me like a lover lost. Like a vagabond in the forgotten Shadow Lands that finally found its soul.

  Quietly, and softly, like the rising of the sun the Darkness rolled away. And like a dark and distant dream, it slithered over and through me before settling like a waiting stain against my bones.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Life is merciful; it blinds and provides illusions,

  And destiny takes on our burden

  From Up on Top by Olav H. Hauge

  Translated from the Norwegian by Robert Bly

  Behind us the Vortex of Submission lay in ruin, the chamber no more than a hole of crumbled destruction, dust and rubble. My Na-Nan, the Lady Arwin, had become no more than a quivering heap of tattered, lifelessness. Stripped of her dark powers, she appeared a wraith of black ruin and mumbling indignities.

  We locked her in another cell in a warded cell-block further down in the drudgeries of Hell’s half-acres and managed to walk away somewhat unscathed, sort of. Well, if you want to call me siphoning yet another being’s soul from them coming away unscath
ed. For me, the verdict is still out on the unforeseen damage to my aura and my psyche. Not to mention the remnants of my own soul.

  Some days, I feel like I’m just floundering through the madness of shadows and sludge. Waiting for the beasties to sprout up from beneath the spoils of war where they’ve lain hidden for centuries, thriving on the festering rot of the beleaguered. Then, when I’m completely unaware that they’ve even been stalking me, they’ll pounce and eat my face off. And all of my do-gooding and attempts to right the wrongs of humanity will have been for naught.

  Other times, I’m just damn happy to have survived the carnage. No matter the cost.

  Now was one of those moments. Despite Xavier Drae’s wide eyes of concern and the marked worry that trembled, just that little bit, above his upper lip. Most people probably wouldn’t have seen it, but he and I both knew it was there. I noticed it in spite of his attempt to hide it with a not so subtle movement of his forearm wiping the beads of perspiration that appeared there. I watched it blaze to life in the shifting of his body when he stepped away from me as we started to make our retreat. And of course it was there in the gruffness of his voice when he asked, “Did you do it?”

  “Do what?” I innocently responded, already knowing the question and answer that he sought. It all flashed in the swirling depths of his cringing, fearful eyes. I just wanted to hear him speak the words, know the truth for myself and let the universe unravel the rest. It’s quite true that some words hold power. I wondered what the universe would do with the power of these.

  We had made our way halfway back up the stairs and to the first of the landings. Xavier had stopped before me, turned and now faced me. His shoulders slumped a bit in his once-crisp suit coat, his stance a bit weary while he watched me.

  Gimlit stood at my back, and Jade walked beside me. It seemed somewhat strange that neither one of them were as affected by the turn of events as Drae appeared. Then again, they’d seen the power before. Felt the force of its power, the burning flame of Light and life while it coursed through my veins when we were all trying to survive our stay in the Land of Light. In the end, not once had they uttered a word of fear or awe afterward.

  I knew that each of them, Gimlit especially, would do what was necessary to survive. Two thousand odd years of life had taught him well. The lesson of saving his people and living to see another day having become ingrained; second nature, like breath.

  Some days, survival is all.

  Tonight, Jade had proven his oath to me. That he would walk beside me, always. He was, after all, my Alpha King and I, his Lupa. Our wolves were one and would run the forests of the night together. I knew he would always choose our lives first.

  But what was Xavier Drae to me? What had he proven?

  When I thought about it, the answer didn’t surprise me. Nothing. Drae was nothing to me. He was my boss. The Over-Lord I reported to. He was the creature that gave me my assignments and passed on their outcomes to his superiors. Sure, he was a King in his own right, but what side of the Light were the Trolls truly on? And was Drae a ruling King or nothing more than a mere puppet with strings?

  Always more questions, and not enough answers, hence my reason for the slow response to answer. It even gave me a small amount of delight to see the worry so steady in his eyes. Drae stood before me and weighed his power over me while waiting for my reply. He knew it, and I knew it. But why was he doing it? And who was he doing it for?

  He had assisted in the original treachery of my grandmother, going so far as to deceive an innocent child. He then helped to lock the Lady Arwin away for years in an attempt to suppress her powers so that she would be unable to…

  To do what exactly? Teach me? Guide me? Bring me over to the Darkness? It is true she had given up her powers of Light to become a daughter of the Darkness. So what would stashing her away from the world of Light and Darkness do for the Silent Court, exactly? What did she know that the Court wanted to silence? That was the million-dollar question.

  “Did you steal her soul?” Drae finally asked drawing me back from the land of wandering thoughts.

  I watched the way he held his breath, shoulders rigid, waiting for my response. I considered his words while I searched for the appropriate response. Did I steal her soul? Some might say that I did. But what exactly did I take from her?

  I took a step forward and closed the small distance that separated us. A rush of air left Xavier, trembled in the space between us. With a nervous twitch, he reached upwards for his tie as if to straighten it, and I grabbed his wrist. The flux of his pulse pounded beneath the flame red of his flesh. His neck stiffened, jaw clenching repeatedly while he tried to swallow down his fear.

  “In the Shadow Land, a forgotten child of the Light wandered, Drae,” I whispered, catching the swirling color of his eyes just before he blinked. I pulled him forward, closer, causing him to lock glares with mine. “I merely set her free.” I pushed him away.

  I must have moved away more quickly than Drae was prepared for. My movement caused him to stumble forward into Gimlit’s steadying embrace. Jade and I had already taken to the next level of steps. I’d had enough of the PIT and its eternal damnation. I needed some rest, to gather my forces and a clear strategy on just how I was going to save my newfound family.

  With his hand upon Xavier’s chest, Gimlit leaned into the Troll, bent forward and stated, “Tis far better to choose the side of the victor when the real war breaks out, than it is to suffer in the chains of defeat.”

  “And what do the Goblins know of defeat?” Xavier gruffly asked, his eyes the hard stare of a creature that has sacrificed and suffered more than he’d ever share.

  Gimlit laughed a small and sarcastic grunt before replying, “I have shed more blood on battlefields you’ve never known, Troll. I have served great rulers and lesser vassals; in the end it is The Way that rules the land, no matter the Chosen.”

  “And the child of Light and Darkness?”

  “She is The Way,” Gimlit stated. He then walked away, leaving Xavier Drae to ponder his words.

  Chapter Fourteen

  If only I, in this

  sad age and unhealthy atmosphere,

  could keep hold of your noble look; for since the real thing’s

  missing I must make do with the image

  From To His Lady – Giacomo Leopardi

  Translated from the Italian by Jonathan Galassi

  It’s hard to run from the Darkness when night is forever nipping at your heels. Here in the midwest, night settles quickly in autumn and with the setting of the sun, my thoughts turned inward. The word soul stealer whispered through my mind like the tendrils of lost hopes and the mists of wayfaring specters on the battlefields of death.

  I had managed to walk the Shadow Lands, find the lost child of Light that Lady Arwin had once been and removed the stain of Darkness from her. I had restored her innocence, bequeathed on her the blessings of the Light. But the question remained—had I truly saved her?

  It’s true I had somewhat done the same to my Queen, taken the corruption that had immersed itself so deeply within her being that you couldn’t tell where the Light ended and the Darkness began. By taking her Light and consuming the dark essence from her soul, I had removed its taint. But what was she left with? What were either of them left with?

  Was Lady Arwin really restored to her former self? Would she now, once again, walk as one with the Light? Know its nature and cast its beauty amongst the world? Or would she again search for the hidden power to rule over all mankind?

  Then there was my Queen. What was she left with? She was now nothing more than a shell of her former glory, for she too had now become a Pixie without wings, condemned for eternity to be a Pixie without power, as I as a child had once been.

  I couldn’t find it within myself to feel remorseful over either incident. As far as I was concerned, Queen Corral deserved a fate far worse than to be wingless and powerless. She deserved a far greater punishment, possibly even a li
fetime of deaths. Or maybe she deserved to be the one to wander the Shadow Lands searching for the remnants of her missing soul.

  They say that the Prophets are the judges of the past; only they and few others know what vile things my Queen and my mother had done to me and—who knows what—to the other beings of the fair Court. Who knows, maybe I had let the both of them off easy.

  Perhaps in time, the Prophets would show them the mercy they had not shown me. Until then, they could spend what was left of their eternity rotting, locked away in the cells of their own makings. I had previously washed my hands of the two of them and it was time I do so again. Besides, tomorrow was Halloween, and I had other bitches to burn.

  Jirvel had things that belonged to me and come tomorrow night, I was going to get them back. If it was the last thing I did.

  Ten p.m. found us in the upper sanctum of the Silent Court’s hallowed halls. The sound of our footfalls on the marble flooring echoed loudly in the quiet tranquility. The last few hours had given me a whole new perspective on the Court’s ‘Laws’ and sense of justice. Made me wonder whose rules we were really following and for what reasons. I wondered how all of the events of the last week were tied together or, if they were tied together at all.

  I mean, it all seemed so strange. First there was the Zombie Fred who I’d slashed and stashed in the trunk of my rental car after the attack at the graveyard. I couldn’t forget him. It’s not every day one hacks up a Zombie. Not to mention the strange, eerie power that seemed to fill him up with a life force that I’d never seen the corporeal dead possess. Oh, then there was that oily slick power ball that had trapped me inside of it where no one could see me until I touched it, releasing its abysmal power into the dark of the night.

  Of course, there was also the death of Lady Twilla and the other dead Necromancers. I still didn’t know who had killed Twilla, or why. All I had to go on for that was the strange death note that was left for me. A note I was still trying to decipher—“Duty, so much like death is a dark gift to bear—eh, Rihker? But will we ever be set free? We are much the same you and I. Many masters, oh so many masters. Told was I she had to die. But she thinks you can set to rights this suffering. Have you the power? Are you the Chosen?”