by S.J. Drew
what about my family?" she cried.
A priestess entered with a set of robes and started to dress Eliora, who was in no condition to fight her off.
"Unless you defeat this great evil, you will not return home. You must not see them. To do so will place them, and the whole city, in great danger," the Matriarch answered firmly.
"But-but, they'll be so worried. I can't just leave them. I can't just leave my family and friends," she protested, feeling sick at her stomach.
"They will not worry."
"How do you know?"
"We will tell them that you died of the fever. They can grieve, and move on."
"What?" she exclaimed. The fire in the oil lamps burst into such high flame that the glass melted.
"Calm down," she ordered. "If you win, come back. But this will be easiest on them."
"Telling them I'm dead?" she snapped.
"Child, you should show more respect," the Matriarch retorted harshly. "Now, you must go. The ShadowWalker can be found in the northern hemisphere. There is a small kingdom of demians who live well to the south of his location. Once there, they should help you raise an army to defeat this Darkness."
"Demians? You're sending me to the demi-humans?" she blurted.
Just then, two more priestesses entered leading a strange creature. It was human-shaped, three-dimensional, and seemed to be made of Light.
"That thing!" she shrieked. "That was in my dream."
"Probably not exactly this creature. This is an iridescent, child. It will not harm you for it is nothing but Light."
The Armor was now covered by the robes, and she yanked away from the priestesses. "I want to see my family," she demanded. Tears were streaming down her face. "I want to tell them what's going on. I want to tell them that I love them and see them one last time."
"You told it where to take her?" the Matriarch asked, ignoring Eliora's outburst.
The two tired priestesses nodded.
"Go now," she told the iridescent.
It walked up to Eliora.
"No, no, I can't go," she snapped. The books were shaking on the bookshelf.
"I'm sorry, child, but to have you here is too great a risk to us. You must do this to protect your family. The demians will take care of you. Seek the Order of Light. They will help you."
The iridescent put a hand on her shoulder. "We must go now," it said, in the Light language.
"No, please. I can't go. I can't leave them," she pleaded.
Then they vanished.
And reappeared in the middle of a forest.
"This is the gate to the demian domain," said the iridescent. "You may call upon us any time, Mistress." It bowed and disappeared.
"What?" she snapped, but it was gone. Disoriented, she tried to remember the journey with the creature, but it had gone by so fast the only image she had was bright light. "Where am I?" she thought, looking around. Intellectually, she knew what a forest was, but having never even seen a tree before in her life, seeing the woods up close was almost overwhelming. The trees were tall, most over a hundred feet, with a width of about twenty feet. The sunlight was low, revealing it to be near sunset. The air was damp and cool, and the soft dirt floor was littered with bushes, leaves, and moss. The forest was full of the sound of unfamiliar birdsong. A squirrel dashed passed her legs, causing her to jump and snap several twigs. She heard someone yelling at her, but couldn't understand the language. Then she heard a sharp twang, and an arrow embedded itself at her feet. She stumbled backwards a few steps, terribly confused and frightened. More of the strange language followed, and by the tone whoever was speaking was barking orders. She started to feel dizzy and light-headed. Her jumbled mind replayed the images from the day as her knees went weak. "I can't handle this," she thought, and collapsed in a dead faint.
Donnan awoke with a start, but didn't move. His eyes darted around the room, trying to figure out where he was. The room held a bedside table, an oil lamp, a comfortable chair that was filled with the sleeping body of Blake, a small table with a chess board, another comfortable chair, a bookshelf, a desk, a closet, and the full sized bed he was lying in. Even though images from the strange dream were flashing through his mind, his first coherent thought was, "Blake's going to break his neck lying in that chair like that." He slowly sat up. "This isn't your room," he commented.
"What?" Blake replied, sitting up abruptly. "Oh, good, you're up. No, this isn't my room. This is a guest room."
He raised an eyebrow. "A guest room? What have I done to deserve this?"
"Well, look at yourself," he answered, getting up, opening the closet door, and revealing a mirror on the inside.
He walked over to the mirror and saw that he was wearing a full body suit of black armor made of small, tight links, far finer than any human could make. It was banded with silver and he had a silver circlet around his head.
"You're the Dark Avatar," Blake said, coming up behind him. "Do you know that means?"
"I look kind of skinny in this."
The acolyte half laughed. "You're takin' this really well."
"I'm not sure what to make of all this. I don't like it. I don't like fightin' for the Dark One. People already treat me like some filthy dog. This isn't goin' to help." He peered closer. "What in the name of the gods is wrong with my eyes?"
"It seems they've gone black."
"Oh, real helpful there. I can't go out like this." He started to blink several times, as though he could will the color back to normal. To his great surprise, they returned to ice-blue. "Still doesn't do anythin' about this," he sighed, poking at the Armor. "What I am supposed to do? And why did the Dark One Choose me? Am I some sort of monster? I don't get it."
"I don't understand either, and I don't think It's about to tell you. I don't think you're a bad person."
"Yeah, well, you can't see my soul. Maybe it's full of Darkness." His eyes turned black again, and in the mirror he could see the reflection of his own soul. To his eyes, his soul was shaped like his own body, but made of Darkness and Light. Darkness and Light were nearly balanced, but it was tilted toward Darkness, and some of it was very deep. He stumbled backwards and shook his head.
"What?"
"Never mind. Gods, that was weird." He looked at his friend, and to his surprise saw his soul was in much the same state. He blinked until his eyes watered, then sat back down on the bed. "I'm not sick anymore, am I?"
"No. We got you here as quickly as we could. But I think that was just a symptom of the transformation."
"We? What we? Did you bring other priests?" he snapped.
"We were ordered to find you. By the Dark One."
"Great. So do you know what I am?"
"You are called ShadowWalker," he replied, flinching slightly with the name. "Most of the clerics have taken to calling you StormBringer. You are more powerful than any sorcerer, and you can control the wind and water. We don't know what that is, though," he answered, pointing at the Armor.
"Protection for the Dark One. A gift. So do you know what I'm supposed to do with this power?"
"Fight the Avatar of Light. The clerics were looking for the LightBearer, but he seems to have vanished."
"Great. So I've got this person who's probably lookin' to kill me out there, somewhere?"
Blake nodded.
Donnan fell back on the bed and covered his eyes. "Damn it to darkness. No one likes to deal with your Order. Sure as blazes no one is goin' to want to deal with me. What am I supposed to do?"
"Anything you want."
These words gradually penetrated his numbed mind. "Anythin'?"
"It's not as though anyone can stop you. Well, except the LightBearer, but if we don't know where he is, he probably doesn't know where you are. So you've got some time before he raises an army of Light to come destroy the Darkness."
"That sounds so..."
"Ridiculous? Simplistic? Melodra
matic?" Blake offered.
"Yes."
He shrugged. "If we were told to find you, I bet the Order of Light was told to find the LightBearer. What else are they goin' to tell him?"
"True, true," Donnan replied, sitting up. "Anythin' I want, huh?"
"Sure. The Order will even help you."
"If they want, when they want, and for a price," he added bitterly.
"Yes, but the important part is that they will help."
"Anythin'. That's a lot."
"I know. It's an important decision."
"I know two things I want."
"Aolani," he guessed.
Donnan nodded.
"And revenge against Reese?"
"You're real good at this guessin' game."
"Well, I can certainly see that, but why think so small?"
"Small?"
"You're not just some poor dishwasher anymore, Donnan. Think big. You could run Renfrew if you wanted. With some time, you could even put together an empire. What do you think of that?" he asked, his eyes shining with ambition.
"I think you're crazy."
"Well, think about it. There's no reason to go into work today, is there? Stick around the temple and we'll talk."
"Alright," he replied hesitantly. "What time is it?"
"About lunch time. I can get some food."
"Yeah, that'd be good." Blake left the room, and Donnan went back to the mirror. "I can't walk around like this," he thought, staring at the Armor.
A piece of the shadow disengaged from the wall to his side. "It is made of Shadow. You can return it to the Shadow, and call it back when you need," the black, human-like creature hissed in the Dark language.
He bit the inside of his mouth to avoid screaming and jumped back a couple of steps.
