Night Goddess (The Goddess Prophecies Book 1)

by Araya Evermore

‘But we all shared the same fate, Asaph. Baelthrom broke free of the prison we put him in and slaughtered us in revenge. There was no other world for us. Our sacred land we called Aralanastias was nothing but a fervent hope. Death found us, but the Night Goddess could not save us.

  ‘Many of my people’s souls are forever trapped in the Shadowlands, imprisoned for eternity as punishment for imprisoning the Immortal Lord.’ She fell silent, her eyes glistening with tears. She swallowed hard as if there was a lump in her throat. Asaph felt her pain as his own but was powerless to offer comfort. After a moment she spoke again in a low voice.

  ‘We lingered long enough to see a dark hope form in the sky, for the Night Goddess will not be denied her children forever, she will not forget them…’ she trailed off and smiled once more. ‘But we must put the past aside, for our task is most pressing. For a long time, I have awaited a sign of change and that sign has come, young Dragon Lord.’

  He started at the name, she knew who he was, somehow. He got the impression that she knew or could see many things most others could not. She did not pause.

  ‘The dark moon is rising, Asaph, the time of Zanufey is upon us. Her chosen walks among us to help free the imprisoned and face the Immortal Lord before all is consumed by the Dark Rift. But her chosen does not know this yet, and has yet to awaken to her power.’

  ‘Who is her chosen?’ he asked, suddenly filled with questions burning for the answers he had so far failed to find. ‘Why are all these strange things happening to me? I don’t understand…’ he shook his head.

  ‘Yes, a part of you understands deeply,’ she said. ‘Your dreams are calling you and you have a great part to play in helping Zanufey’s chosen. She is called Issa, and why else do you think she has plagued your dreams all your life?’

  He shook his head in disbelief, how could she know all of this?

  ‘I fell I… I was chasing a raven. It stole my mother’s ring…’ then through the dragon door I saw the desert and the woman robed in the stars. He did not speak the last, but somehow she had seen his thoughts.

  ‘Yes, Zanufey brought you here to the Tower of the Flame within the Dragon Dream. The raven is her messenger. Issa is in terrible danger, and if there ever came such a time it is the task of the Dawn Bringer to assist. If her chosen should fall there can be two others to take her place. Baelthrom knows this and so he is moving swiftly, far more swiftly than any of us could have foreseen. I know of one other who has died, just a baby. Now it is unlikely that there will be enough time to choose another, for they must be chosen before birth.’

  ‘I saw more,’ Asaph said, wondering if he should reveal any more to this strange woman. ‘She showed me a man in a boat and drew the name “Murlonius” in fire. I don’t know what it means.’ He wondered at the pain that flickered across her face as she looked away.

  ‘Yes, that is his name,’ she whispered, staring into the blue flame. ‘Of course. It makes sense. There is no other way to get to the Shadowlands. She is showing you how to get to a realm only the dead may enter, and Murlonius is the only one who can take you there.’

  ‘Where must I go, my lady? What must I do?’ he asked softly, wanting to comfort the sorrow that shrouded her and stop the danger to the girl in his dreams.

  ‘You must find Zanufey’s chosen, you must find the Raven Child,’ she looked back at him, capturing him in those violet eyes. ‘As we speak she remains trapped in the Shadowlands, yet she is not dead. No living being can survive for long in the realm of the dead because despair and hopelessness consumes them.’

  ‘Only the damned descend to the Shadowlands. It’s a hell of the soul, a prison that none can escape. How can I even reach her in that forsaken place?’ The words fell from his lips in a torrent. Coronos often spoke of that dreaded place, and when he was a boy he’d had nightmares about it.

  ‘Why is she there? It cannot be. I try to reach her in my dreams, but always she slips away from me. Why does the Night Goddess not save her? What can I do? I have no power.’ He clenched his fists and his neck muscles hurt with tension.

  ‘The Night Goddess is saving her…’ Yisufalni held his gaze, ‘through you.’

  Asaph laughed in disbelief.

  ‘The Immortal Lord hunts her,’ Yisufalni continued, ‘Keteth hunts her. They sense the old power that is strong in her. How else could her spirit call to you? She refuses to believe that death is the end. She has run from Keteth and eluded Baelthrom for a long time, her strength cannot be denied. To survive the Shadowlands so long before oblivion comes…’ Yisufalni shook her head, but Asaph saw a gleam of wonder in her eyes that became a frown of worry. ‘But her life force dims by the hour as she fades into a wraith. Soon she will be lost forever, and so too will we.

  ‘You cannot save her in your dreams because you cannot reach her that way, and besides, Baelthrom can access the dream world more easily than the waking one. It is far too dangerous. You see, it is through the White Beast that Baelthrom controls the pathways into the Shadowlands. But now Zanufey has shown you a way. There is a man, an ancient man Baelthrom has forgotten. He can traverse in secret all the pathways between all the realms of Maioria. Seek the boatman, Asaph, find Murlonius.’

  ‘How do you know all of this? What does it mean to you?’ he asked, eyes narrowing in sudden suspicion. Perhaps she was a trickster, one of Baelthrom’s spies, but as soon as he thought it he felt it was not true.

  ‘I know all of this because I am cursed, and blessed, to reside on a higher plane to your world, but though I can see much of what is happening I have no power of my own to affect it. This place, the Tower of the Flame, is one of the few places I may reach in my true form because it resides just outside of the mortal planes. Do not worry, you will learn more about the Tower of the Flame another time. Look at the flame, Dragon Lord. You see that it is blue?’

  Asaph nodded slightly.

  ‘It turned blue when the dark moon rose. Always here, in the Tower of the Flame, the great fortress of the dragons, it burned red for the flame of Feygriene, the Mother, the Sun Goddess. Now it burns blue, blue for Zanufey, protector of the dead, the Night Goddess. The prophecies do not lie, the dark moon is rising to shine down upon us all and awaken the Raven Child. I have my own appointed tasks in this life, and now I have one last to complete before I too shall go forever from this world.’ There was a faraway look in her eyes. She looked at him.

  ‘Find the Raven Child, Asaph. The very fabric of our world is held in the balance. Baelthrom grows stronger by the day, soon it will be too late, and all the power of Maioria and beyond will be his. Keteth draws close, you must reach her before he does,’ her voice rose in earnest and her almond shaped eyes grew wide.

  ‘I have dedicated my soul to help the people of Maioria fight against the fate that befell my people. The Immortal Lord will not stop at this world, but will tear the very fabric of the universe apart in order to bend it to his will.’

  Asaph listened in silence. A question came to mind. ‘Tell me this, Yisufalni the Ancient, what is this Dawn Bringer?’

  She was silent for a while as she looked at him, and he felt very young and naive under her gaze, though there was nothing patronising in her eyes, only tenderness and an age-old sadness.

  ‘It is written that there can be no day without night as there is no light without dark, there must always be a living, breathing exchange between the two, a cycle. Zanufey is the darkness that is the night, and Feygriene is the light that is the day. This you well know,’ she said. He nodded.

  ‘The time of Feygriene’s light is passing, and the Great Goddess’s dark self is soon to come. It is written in our prophecies that there is another that is chosen, one chosen by Feygriene to lead the light back into the world when the darkness brought by Zanufey’s own, wanes. That one is called the Dawn Bringer, that one is you Asaph if you wish it.

  ‘For the Dawn Bringer follows the Raven Queen as the day follows the night, and the night, in turn, follows the day. That is the nature of you
r bond to each other. Do you see? Zanufey brings the night, the cleansing dark and purification of old ways. Her Raven Queen is the only one who can hope to stand against the Immortal Lord. But the darkness cannot be without the light forever, and the Dawn Bringer is that light, blessed by Feygriene. King Asaph of Drax, your mother knew the mantle of the Dawn Bringer would come to you before she gave birth, hence your name.’

  He stared at her dumbfounded, his mouth opened and shut several times as he struggled to comprehend at least one thing she said. He choked down a lump and tried to calm the inner turmoil.

  ‘But you do not have to accept the task, Asaph, you must do as your conscience dictates.’

  ‘You are right about the bond between us.’ He managed to speak. ‘That is why I dream of her. Of course I will accept this task, or die trying I guess. But what if I fail?’ he whispered, hating to speak his fears aloud.

  ‘If you fail, then she is lost, and so too are we… Come, we must not delay. Come closer to the flame,’ she said. He almost gasped aloud as she motioned to him for her hands each had six long fingers, all slender and smooth.

  ‘Look into the flame, Asaph. Do you accept the mantle of the Dawn Bringer?’

  ‘I do,’ he said, but he didn’t feel so sure about it at all. As he stared into the blue flame a face formed, the face of the girl in his dreams. She was smiling at him, which was odd for she never smiled. He found himself smiling back.

  ‘What do you see, Asaph?’ Yisufalni’s voice drifted down to him.

  ‘I see her face.’

  The flame grew swiftly then and engulfed him in cool blue light. The room became hazy and insubstantial. The floor dissipated and it seemed as if he stood on nothing but air. He tried not to look down, then felt as if he was moving upwards fast. Everything began to move quickly again, but there was nothing he could do to slow it down.

  A mass of blue-white clouds swirled around him, and the air grew so thin he became dizzy and lightheaded. All at once the light and clouds went and a universe filled with stars surrounded him. Far below a blue and green orb turned and he knew it was Maioria from the maps Coronos had drawn him.

  In dreamlike awe he watched entire galaxies swirl in the blackness as he continued to move upwards. Warm light touched his face and he looked up at the sun, but its intense fiery light did not hurt his eyes. As he moved towards it, it grew hotter and hotter and he became afraid.

  A face formed in the sun. It smiled. Skin of radiant gold, eyes of molten amber and hair as orange flames. Joy and love coursed through him, melting away the fear as he looked upon the face of Feygriene. He dropped his eyes trembling in awe as the heat that emanated from her engulfed him. Ever hotter it grew as the Sun Goddess and the sun became one and the same. He hoped it would stop but it didn’t. Hotter and hotter it burned until he could feel the heat filling every single cell of his body. He cried out in pain, begging for it to stop.

  ‘Do not resist, let go,’ a soothing voice whispered.

  But he could not let go and so the heat grew. Fire was all around him and in the blinding light he glimpsed that golden face, sombre and resolute and awesome. With golden arms, she beckoned him closer.

  ‘No, I cannot,’ he screamed, but his words were eaten away by the roaring fire as he moved towards her. His skin burst into flame and the fire engulfed him. He opened his mouth to cry out, wanting death to claim him and take the pain away. The dragon within stirred. He looked into its cooling sapphire eyes and let go.

  Roaring flames consumed him. Fire erupted from his mouth and his body disintegrated as the dragon form took over. He looked down and saw he was no longer made of solid matter, but of fire. He understood then.

  ‘I cannot be destroyed by fire, I am fire itself,’ he cried, his voice a roar louder than the flames. He had become a dragon made of living, breathing flames and the pain that had consumed him was now gone.

  The roaring flames began to die down, then turned blue and calm once more. The light was like cool water washing over him, extinguishing the fire dragon and leaving him whole and in his human form once more. He stared into the blue flame and the chaos he had felt earlier was replaced with serenity and reverence. Then the blue flame dimmed until he was surrounded by darkness.

  ‘You have passed the Trial by Fire, my son,’ an unearthly voice whispered, echoing through his being. ‘Bringer of the Dawn, find the darkness and bring to it the light.’

  The awesome presence disappeared, leaving only loneliness and emptiness within him.

  The door shut, and Asaph found himself swaying in the forest, staring at the carved dragon head. That too disappeared and he was alone, the fire still vivid in his mind. He unbuttoned his shirt and stared at the three flame-markings on the centre of his torso. They were red, an inch high and hot and sore to the touch.

  ‘Trial by Fire…’ he murmured. They looked like a strange tattoo. Hopefully they would heal and his chest hair would cover them. His voice trembled a little and his hands shook as he did up his shirt.

  What on Maioria had just happened? The marks on his chest proved everything had been real. He looked around him. The trees looked quite normal now, not the massive oaks they had been before, and the forest was alive with birds singing. The raven was gone. The ring was gone.

  He sighed, it was a long walk back home, and try as he might he could not call the dragon form. He was far too tired to muster the anger. He thought on everything that had happened as he trudged back through the forest, it would be late indeed by the time he got home.

  He soon got into and picked up the pace. Pushing tiredness aside he walked fast, keen to tell Coronos all that had happened, and filled with a growing need to embark upon his quest before it was too late. The sun was setting and his legs ached sorely by the time he saw the soft glow of the village fire in the distance. They always lit a bonfire on Rest Day, and the entire village joined in a communal feast. He had hoped to slip unseen up the ladder to his house, but Kahly’s sharp eyes spotted him from amongst the bustle of people. She bounded over.

  ‘Where on earth have you been? It was just me and Jommen this morning,’ She said with a cross frown.

  ‘I’m really sorry, something very odd happened,’ he said. Having never been good at lying he told the truth. ‘A raven stole my mother’s ring and I chased after it. Then I fell and hit my head.’ He was glad for the glow of the fire hiding his reddening cheeks.

  Kahly gave an incredulous laugh and shook her head. ‘I think you hit your head first.’

  ‘I’m not lying, Kahly.’

  Seeing the seriousness in his eyes, her face softened. ‘I’m sorry, I know that ring means a lot to you. Did you get it back?’ Asaph shook his head. Kahly squeezed his arm at a loss for words.

  ‘Come, have some food, you must be famished,’ she linked her arm through his, but he faltered.

  ‘I must speak to Father first,’ he said, eyeing her laden plate hungrily.

  ‘Sure, then take mine. I’ve barely touched it and can get another,’ she shoved her full plate into his hands. Hot red potatoes encrusted with black salt and covered in thick spicy jungle stew filled his nostrils. His stomach refused to say no and he stuffed an over-filled spoon into his mouth and mumbled thanks. Kahly winked and bounded off. He carefully climbed the ladder, holding his plate precariously in one hand.

  After Asaph had told his bizarre story, Coronos stared at him for a long time over the thick curling smoke of his pipe, his eyes searching deep into Asaph’s own, but Asaph held his gaze unblinkingly. His father sighed, tugged the pipe out of his mouth and looked away.

  ‘Honestly, Asaph, there is never a dull moment with you about.’

  ‘Then you believe me?’ Asaph implored.

  ‘Yes, unfortunately, I do. The orb would have told me had you lied,’ his hand brushed his pocket where the orb lived. ‘But who needs the orb… I could always tell when you told the truth, though you rarely lied.’

  Asaph laughed and grinned. ‘Great. So when do we leave? T
omorrow? No, it must be right away.’ He jumped up and nearly hit his head on the roof beam.

  ‘Sit, sit,’ Coronos waved him back down with a scowl. ‘No, actually go. Go get some more food or something. I need time to think.’

  Asaph’s smile turned to a frown and then a smile again, wondering what to make of his father’s reaction. But the older man had turned away from him and stood to stare out of the window at the raucous feasting occurring below.

  Asaph was about to say something, thought better of it, and disappeared out of the house. He was still hungry anyway and knew that once Coronos had decided upon something he would not be budged. He skipped joyfully to the Down Rope, grinning all the way, barely seeing the watchful eyes of Gurapoha as he sat smoking his pipe on his doorstep.

  When the young Draxian had disappeared into the crowd, Gurapoha stood up, grabbed his smoking pouch, and made his way to the Draxian’s house across the walkway between the two trees. He knocked twice and entered without waiting for a reply.

  Coronos was leaning upon the windowsill, but staring at the floor unseeing. He had not heard the old shaman enter. Gurapoha spoke a silent greeting in his mind and was not surprised when the Draxian picked up on it, and turned to look at him a little startled.

  ‘It seems that the time has come for you to leave us, and I knew it would be so with the rising of the dark moon,’ Gurapoha spoke first, intrigue bright in his weakening eyes as he hovered in the doorway.

  ‘Please, do come in. I needed time to think, but now that I’m alone I cannot think at all,’ Coronos said, motioning for the shaman to enter. ‘Yes, the dark moon changes everything.’

  Gurapoha closed the door and sat down on a big cushion before the fire. Coronos and the shaman had spent many evenings over many years talking of all things; the past, the future, Drax, the Old and New Worlds. Gurapoha busied himself refilling his pipe as he spoke.

  ‘In truth, I have seen this day coming since you arrived on our shores,’ the shaman said. Coronos blinked, clearly surprised at the shaman’s wisdom. ‘The dark that spreads in the east from which you fled will not stop at your shores. Indeed, long ago I saw a vision where the whole world had fallen into the Dark Rift. But since you arrived, that future has gone, and instead I cannot see past the veil, I cannot see the future, it has not been decided. You must go on this quest, friend Coronos, I feel the fate of our world depends on it.’