A Kingdom of Shadow

by Clara Johnson

  In a few moments, an unceremonious shadowy figure appeared in the great distance. It was coming in my direction making me tremble.

  The figure began to take a form. It did not appear to be a wolf. No this was much taller. It appeared to be standing on two limbs. A human? What were they doing here?

  Whatever or whoever they were, I think they were hurt. With each step, they were leaning towards the side. They moved too fast to be natural. They moved as if something was chasing them. My breath stopped in my chest when I realized what was happening.

  This person was being attacked.

  CHAPTER 4

  I did not think about my next move. I had to do something, instincts forced my body to move. The voice in my head screamed for me to turn around and get to safety. I didn’t know this person, they could be an escaped criminal or a thief. And yet, somehow . . . I didn’t care.

  Substituting the bow for my ax, I ran towards the unknown figure. As I closed the distance between us, they fell face first into the snow. Quickening my pace, I focused solely on the person that laid unmoving on the ground. The grip of the ax in my hand tightened.

  When I was about three paces from the body, I slowed to a prowl. My eyes shifted from the person on the ground and my surroundings. Anticipation for an attack made my heart race. I placed my hand on the person’s back. They were breathing which meant they were still alive, but the blood trail that followed told me it wouldn’t be for much longer. The blood stopped around his feet. It would be safe to assume the blood came from there.

  I saw no sign of any companions or attackers. He might have gotten away on time or managed to detour his followers. Either way, I doubted he was alone.

  Judging by the clothes and strong build with broad shoulders, I assumed that the person was a man. Carefully, I turned his body over. There was no clear distinguishable thing about him—no markings or symbols of where he was from. He held no valuables in his pockets either.

  I opened his coat slightly to reveal three distinct claw marks on his chest. The dried blood stained the white shirt. An animal attacked him—an enormous animal. I examined his booted feet and found several teeth marks in the one with blood still dripping out of it. He needed medical attention immediately.

  I shook him again, asking him to wake up and received no response. His eyes were closed and his mouth was covered by a mask. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to see the man’s face. I pulled down the mask, revealing his handsome face. He had a strong face with high cheekbones and tanned skin. His hair was a messy dirty blond. He appeared a couple years older than me but no more than five years.

  Yes, he was handsome, but as I felt as though there was something strange about him. Something off. He didn’t look like any of the men I had seen in the village. I didn’t know who he was which made my gut twist.

  Everything told me to be weary of this man, but I know he needed my help. If I left him here, he would surely die from the cold if not from his injuries.

  A growl came from behind me.

  Fear ran through my body and tightened its grip on my chest. I slowly turned my head to see the most horrifying sight.

  The wolf was black, but it seemed more shadow than fur. Its mouth looked like it was torn open. Its teeth were covered in crimson, dripping onto the snow. Its head and body had several cuts from a sharp blade as if one of its prey unexpectedly fought back.

  And its eyes . . . they were bright red. This wasn’t a natural wolf. Something dark surrounded the creature that haunted its very being, consuming it entirely. I had never seen something like this, even in my worst nightmare. Was this thing being controlled by a demon? What depths of hell had it come from?

  I slowly grabbed my ax as I stood. I knew this thing would attack me at any second. The wolf continued to growl at me but did not attack me outright. What was it waiting for?

  I glanced back at the man on the ground. It had to be after him. Was this man a runaway prey for it? A wolf with a particular victim in its sight? This was making less sense by the second.

  Every survival instinct told me to run far away and not look back, but I couldn’t leave this man to his fate. He would be torn apart within minutes. It turned my stomach to even think about it. Even if this man deserved his fate, I don’t believe anyone deserved to die by a demon like this. Goddess protect me.

  I raised my ax defensively.

  “If you want this man, you will have to come through me first,” I threatened.

  The demon wolf tilted his head as if questioning my sanity, and I couldn’t blame him for it. What I was doing was insane, but I could never live with myself if I left this man die because I was too frightened to do anything about it.

  The demon wolf growled and leaped towards me, ready to rip me to pieces with its claws extended from its paws. I rolled to my side but it managed to graze my shoulder. A groan escaped from my lips, trying to contain a scream.

  I must not show weakness. I must not show it my fear.

  I tried to get up, but the demon wolf was faster than any wolf I had seen before. It jumped towards me and I lifted my ax above my face.

  I managed to block the demon wolf’s mouth by pressing the ax to its throat right under its mouth as hard as I could. My strength was all that prevented me from a painful death. The demon wolf continued to snap at me, aiming for my throat. I pushed with all of my might into the ax, but it soon became futile.

  The demon wolf managed to snag onto my shoulder and bit down with the tip of its teeth. I screamed. I would not die like this. I shifted the ax’s arm, sliding it to the side and as hard as I could, I drove the blade it down into its neck moving my whole body into it.

  The demon wolf yelped and released my shoulder. I rolled onto my side to throw it off of me. Black blood was spilling all over me. Some of it entered into my mouth it tasted vile.

  So, it bleeds.

  I yanked my ax out of the wolf’s neck and blood poured out from the wound. Its eyes dimmed slightly as it glared into my own eyes. They made me question if it was always this way or if it was torn and twisted by the fabric of darkness itself. I could almost feel sorry for it. If it had been turned, then a swift death was a mercy for the beast.

  I struck my ax into its neck a second time and killed it instantly. The demon wolf’s body incinerated with a black smoke rising from the burning of its corpse.

  This was further proof that it wasn’t of this world. I prayed that there weren’t any more of them around. I don’t think I would be so lucky against more of them with my injuries.

  The body was gone now, leaving only a black mark on the ground where the snow had melted under the heat. It was done. I examined my surroundings but found no traces of any other unwelcome guests. Still, if they weren’t here now, I would have to assume that this wolf was part of a pack. They would come looking for him and the prey he lost.

  I fingered my injured shoulder, wincing when I felt the pain. This would take time to heal but I would survive. All that matters is that I still have my life. Unfortunately, this also means I would have to carry the man to the cottage. He was still unconscious and being out here in this cold would surely kill him if his injuries don’t kill him first.

  “You are becoming more trouble than you’re worth, my friend,” I said to the man, not expecting a response. This man would have to answer a lot to questions if he survived. I was not in the habit of saving strangers, especially who could be a danger to my family.

  A crow cawed from a nearby tree that was about twenty feet above me. It flapped its wings, brushing off speckles of snow on its body. It cawed at me again.

  This time, I answered it.

  “Are you another challenger?” I laughed.

  It tilted its head as if it hadn’t expected me to say anything.

  Shaking my head, I said, “Well, you can’t help me carry him, but thanks anyway.”

  The crow cawed one last time and flew away.

  I pulled the man
onto my shoulders as a groan passed his lips. Yes, he was alive but not strong enough to move on his own anytime soon. I lifted with my knees adjusting the man to balance myself. He was not as heavy as I feared, but heavy nonetheless.

  I stumbled at first but managed to hold him. This would be a long journey home. His blood was dripping onto the ground as I made each step. My shoulder screamed at the new weight but I willed myself through it. It was about a mile back to the cottage.

  I can do this.

  After walking about a hundred feet, the tightness in my chest came back with a vengeance, causing me to cough. I felt as though I ran for three miles straight.

  My breathing strained. It was harder for me to keep moving. I could feel my legs were starting to shake. I was going to drop him if I didn’t stop and rest for a couple minutes. I prayed that we were far enough away to be safe for the time being.

  It was getting dark too fast, I had to get him home.

  I bent down and sat the man’s limp body against the base of a tree. Struggling to catch my breath, I flopped down next to him. Despite the cold, my chest felt as though it was on fire.

  “I hope you . . . don’t . . . make me . . . regret this,” I said, forcing the words out.

  Each breath was harder than the last. Sweat covered my face. I hated this—whatever it was—it weakened me. I hadn’t lost my breath like this before. This was something new. I decided it was because of overworking myself with chores and not enough sleep.

  If I rest here too long, I could very well pass out, causing both of us to potentially freeze to death. I had to keep moving. There were no guarantees that the demon wolf was alone and I couldn’t take the chance of any of his friends finding us again.

  After a few moments of rest, I gathered my strength and lifted the man upon my shoulders. I would need to make slower steps. The uneven ground would make this harder for me, but I had no choice. The man was losing too much blood. If he had any chance of surviving, it would solely depend if I got him back to the cottage on time.

  I needed to keep moving. One step at a time.

  CHAPTER 5

  When I finally approached the house, I wondered how bad all of this will look. This was not going to be easy to explain to them. It’s not every day I bring home a half-dead man.

  “Mother!” I called. “Please open the door; I have a man here who is bleeding.”

  She came out moments later. A gasp escaped her lips. “Ellyn, who is that?”

  I hurried into the cottage knowing I would drop him if I didn’t. Albert was sitting at the kitchen table with a wide-eyed expression.

  “Albert, please clear off the table.”

  He hopped off his seat and quickly did as I asked. “Ellyn, who—”

  “I don’t know,” I said as I placed the man on the table. I took several deep breaths, my body relieved to have the weight removed.

  “I don’t know,” I repeated, “but he was attacked by a wolf. Mother, help me take off his shirt. Albert, go get the medicine I bought earlier today.”

  Despite the sharpness in my voice, my family hurried to assist me. Mother and I managed to get the man’s shirt off along with his mask. Albert brought me the medicine moments later.

  “We need to clean his wounds first. I will fetch some warm water.” Mother hurried to the counter, where she grabbed a cloth and bucket of water. “Albert, please go to your room. This is not something I want you to see.”

  Albert hesitated, only taking a step back.

  “It’s alright. Mother and I can handle this. We have to clean his wound or he will bleed out. I promise I will call you when we are done.”

  He nodded and left the room.

  Mother cleaned the wound on his ankle with the wet cloth. The claw marks on his chest were covered in dried blood. I grabbed a second cloth and began wiping the blood. I tried not to think about the demon wolf that did this to him. The cuts alone should’ve killed him. How he managed to get away from it, I may never truly know but whoever the man was, he was a survivor.

  It took about a half hour to clean his injuries enough to pour the medicine on the wounds. There were the claw marks on his chest, the bite on his ankle and scattered scratches all along his body that were not as severe. They did not look like he was attacked by a mere wolf—more like a great bear. Mother insisted she check his lower half on her own. I was to leave the room until she was done.

  When she called me back in, he was covered again. Aside from his ankle, the rest of his lower half appeared to be mostly untouched. He was lucky. Mother told me I would need to hold him down.

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  “Because this medicine will burn. He will respond according. You must hold him down,” she explained. I nodded and moved to the top of the table and held down his arms. I prayed she would be able to do this quickly.

  “Ready?” Mother held the open bottle prepared to pour its contents onto his chest.

  “Ready.”

  The man writhed and let out a scream as mother quickly poured the medicine onto his wounds. He shifted upward, but I managed to hold him down before he could sit up completely. He appeared to be awake, but in moments he was unconscious again.

  I moved down the table to his legs, and we repeated the procedure for his ankle. This wound seemed to be from the initial attack and there were parts of the flesh that looked like a bone for a dog. It was amazing that his entire foot hadn’t been bitten off. The man jerked with more force, almost kicking mother in the face.

  Once she was done, she pulled out her herbs and placed them on the wounds. I helped her wrap the man’s chest, and she wrapped his ankle.

  “I believe he’ll live, but he’ll need time to rest. Those wounds are unlike anything I had ever seen. Are you sure it was a wolf’s work?” She looked at me; questioningly.

  I shook my head. “All I saw was one, but I do not think a mere lone wolf could have had this man running for his life with his injuries unless he had no way to defend himself. There were no weapons with him.”

  Mother looked away from me, shook her head and walked to the kitchen to clean the rags. I didn’t blame her. This was all too much to wrap our heads around. There was no telling who this man was. He could be a thief or a murderer. I don’t know what had compelled me to save him. What was I thinking?

  If he was a wanted man, I may have just put my family in mortal danger. But somehow, looking at this injured, handsome man lying on the dining table, I knew there was something good about him. Something that told me I needed to save him.

  “Ellyn! Your shoulder!” Mother exclaimed.

  I looked over at my shoulder and saw that blood stained my shirt. I had almost forgotten the injury with the rush to save the man. Mother rushed to my side, forcing me to sit on a nearby chair.

  “I’ll be fine, Mother. It didn’t get me that bad. It was a nip,” I tried to protest, but I had a feeling she would not hear it. I pulled off my shirt, covering my breasts for her to clean the wound. She applied a clean damp cloth to soak up the blood.

  “You’re lucky it didn’t bite you any deeper,” she mumbled.

  I didn’t expect Mother to care about my injury. I had been hurt on several occasions and she never seemed to notice before. Perhaps the shock of the man lying on my dining table must had brought her back to her senses for the time being. I wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing.

  Mother cleaned the rest of the bite wound. It didn’t look pretty, but it was nothing compared to what the man had suffered. Blood coated my shoulder down my arm. Mother was right, I was lucky it didn’t go deeper. After she finished, I pulled my top back on.

  “Thank you.”

  Mother simply took my clothes to the kitchen. I’m not sure what I expected her to say, but I wanted her to tell me she was relieved to see I was alright and that I did the right thing. I decided not to press her further. My wounds were cleaned and I was fine.

  Looking at the man, I hoped
he would wake soon. I imagined he had quite the story to share.

  ~ * ~

  Two days later, there was very little change in his condition. He moved now and then but didn’t regain consciousness. I spent most of my time making sure the fireplace was full and the fire stoked. I slid the table across the floor, bring the man closer to the fireplace for warmth and gave him an extra blanket. Mother had changed his bandages a few times. We would run out of supplies soon.

  My curiosity built with each passing hour as that he lay there on the table, unmoving. Who was this man? Why had he been in the woods? Where was he from and was he a deserter of that homeland running from something he had done?

  The lack of weapons suggested that he left where ever he came from in a hurry or lost them when he was attacked. To have traveled with injury . . . how did he survive? This man was either very lucky or very strong to endure the pain.

  I often found Albert watching the man. Maybe it was because he was the only male my brother had seen for over a year. But Albert had a sense of people. He could just look at a person’s face and seem to know what their thoughts and intentions were—whether they were good or bad.

  I envied him at times. He was so innocent, but I was often forgot that he was also growing up. He insisted on helping out as much as possible. I would only let him help with little things like washing our clothes or helping Mother in the kitchen. He was not strong enough to do any more than that.

  I knew that, over time, he would tire, run a fever and the cough would return. I would put him to bed and give him medicine and he would rest for the next two days.

  Those were the better days.

  On the bad days, he would cough up specks of blood. It took all my medicine and prayer for him to recover. But he was getting stronger with each passing day Whatever he was struggled with within his weaken body, he would beat it one day. I was sure of it. He just needed more time.