Between Darkness and the Light

by Paul T. H. Mitchener

  After handing Sophia and Hazel their drinks, she then went into the bedroom to make up the bed Hazel had used that night. She needed to keep busy: if not, she was sure that she would say something they wouldn’t want to hear. Besides, anything was better than listening and watching Sophia comforting her sister. “Bree,” Hazel called out, stopping her in her tracks. “You think me a monster.” At first Bree didn’t respond; she didn’t even turn to face her, not knowing what to say or how to react. “You’re right to think poorly of me… How can any normal person kill the only true love they had ever known?” Bree turned to face Hazel, still unsure how to react to such a statement. Sophia stood up, concerned as to where the conversation might go. “Have I said as much?” Bree replied calmly. “You don’t have to… I sense it from you.”

  Bree wiped her hands on a cloth and placed it on the table. “Does it matter what I think… my lady?” she replied sarcastically. “Yes, it does… it matters to me… You are in love with my Henry and now find yourself in the same situation I was in when Alfwald became the host… He is not the Henry you and I knew a few days ago… And if he is not strong enough to control the Wyvern, it will take his very soul.” She paused as if she had just realised herself the reality of the situation. “He will lose his mind… and his identity… he will become the host master… no longer the Henry we love… lost… to the thing that lives inside him… forever… And as for the Aelfgar… Well, you know yourself the longer he bears it, the quicker his demise.” Bree was now red in the face and finding it difficult to control her feelings. “I’d rather take my own life than harm Henry… Something you should have considered before taking Alfwald’s,” she blurted out without thinking.

  Sophia’s face creased with anger: how dare she address a lady of nature in such a manner!? Especially when her sister was in such a volatile state. But Hazel grabbed her arm. “Sister, please.” Sophia looked to say something but allowed Hazel to resolve the situation herself. “I did consider taking my own life… but how could I with a living child within me…? And I’ve considered it every day since… But the fact remains: Alfwald had to be stopped then… As he does now, but this time it’s my son… the one you love.” Hazel stood up before continuing. “Before this is all over, Henry may have to take the life of his own father… How will you feel about him then?”

  Hazel let the statement hang in the air a while, allowing the point to sink in. “If my son is successful… and I believe he will be… will that make him a monster in your eyes, too?” “That’s not the same!” Bree shouted. “You… you…!” She lurched herself towards Hazel in a rage, only to be blocked by Sophia who took her by both arms and with amazing strength held her off the ground, suspending her in the air with her tiny wings beating frantically. However, no matter how much Bree struggled, she could not break free of Sophia’s grip. “Calm yourself, girl,” Sophia said in a low, warning tone. Bree, now in a rage, screamed to be let go. “Last chance, girl… calm yourself,” but Bree was now beside herself with rage and continued screaming uncontrollably.

  Still holding Bree firmly in her hands, Sophia started to call on her powers to control her. Hazel grabbed Sophia’s arm again and shook her head. “Let her be.” Sophia stared at her sister questionably. Before she did as she was asked, and released her grip, allowing Bree to drop to the floor, Hazel went to go to her, but she screamed for her to get away, scrambling to her feet. Bree went over to the table to collect her belt and belongings, and without looking back, stormed out of the door and into the drizzle, disappearing into the damp, grey mist.

  It took Henry and Mylon just a few hours to reach the point where Mylon indicated for them to enter through the defensive hill. Not having said much on the way, their thoughts were elsewhere. “Here.” Raising his arm in a sweeping motion, the wall started to shimmer. A moment later, a corridor appeared, it was only high enough for an elf to pass through, so Henry had to duck his head whilst following Mylon. Again, the white corridor gave off the soft, warming glow, illuminating their way. This time, it seemed to Henry that the corridor went on forever, but in fact it only took them around fifteen minutes to reach the other side.

  When they emerged on the other side, the sight that welcomed them was all-inspiring. Henry had never seen anything like it in his life, hundreds of tiny, multicoloured, higgledy-piggledy buildings of all shapes and sizes. Some looked to be homes, and others shops, all crammed together as if every inch counted and they were all made up of anything they could lay their hands on. Running between them were narrow, twisting lanes full of colourfully dressed people all going about their daily business whilst dodging one another through the crowded streets, brightly coloured carts pulled by strange-looking, tiny, blue-spotted ponies… And the colours and smell of spices were incredible: in fact, it was almost too much to take in.

  Mylon stopped just inside the entrance which had by now closed behind them. He looked over to Henry and saw the look on his face. “Welcome to Koh-Panyee,” he announced. “Come, we must get you settled in while I go and speak to my elders.” Henry didn’t feel comfortable about leaving Mylon to go alone to deliver the news about the attack by the ground wromp and the loss of two of his men – and just as importantly, the news that he was now the new host master. “Hadn’t I better go with you…? Food and sleep can wait.” Mylon had anticipated this and stopped Henry in mid-sentence. “Forgive me… you are not strong enough to meet up with anyone at the moment… And believe me when I say you will need every ounce of your strength when you meet the elders, and more so if the king asks to see you.” Henry was about to object but thought better of it. Mylon smiled. “Besides, you look a mess.”

  Henry hadn’t thought about it, but Mylon was right. He was unwashed and covered in dirt and grime: he must have looked a right sight. Mylon smiled again and indicated for Henry to follow him. By now many of the elves had noticed them and gathered in little groups, whispering to one another with looks of concern on their faces. “Just ignore them,” Mylon said in a mocking tone. “They’ve never seen such a sight as you before… It must be the twigs in your hair that are getting their attention.” Henry reached up to see if he could feel any and found nothing. He looked over to Mylon who had a wicked smile on his face. “Not far now, my friend.” They made their way down one of the narrow lanes, past groups of concerned, onlooking elves, some making their way back into open doorways and side alleys just to avoid them. A few nodded respectably to Mylon but avoided eye contact with Henry. “Don’t mind them… They are usually welcoming but I’m sure the news of your friends has got around… and now the likes of you… Well, the poor things must be worried out of their tiny little minds,” Mylon said mockingly.

  They continued down a steep hill where the lane started to get narrower, almost to the point where the upper stories of the colourful building touched one another. “Here we are,” Mylon announced, pointing towards a small blue door situated in a small, green-painted building with a sign boasting “Pagworth Inn” above the door. Mylon opened the door and went in. Henry followed and, forgetting to duck, hit his head on the door frame. Inside was warm and cosy: the welcoming smell of hot food reminded Henry how hungry he really was. Standing behind a small, brightly painted wooden bar stood a stocky but pleasant-looking elfin man. “This, my friend, is Pagworth…The proprietor of the inn and a friendlier, more welcoming innkeeper you’ll never find.”

  Pagworth walked out from behind the bar. He was short, even for elf standards, a large, rounded face mostly covered in a bushy, red beard and dressed in the most colourful garments Henry had ever seen, which looked as though they were made up of patches of all types of cloth and patterns, heavy, well-worn boots, and a thick, heavy belt around his podgy middle. He gave Mylon a big, friendly hug. “’Tis great to see ya again, o’friend…Where’s ya been these past weeks and where’s the two lads…? That Onaxe still owe me a rematch, ya know… I’m sure he’s got a spare stack of cards shoved up his sleeve somewhere… Never seems to lose that one.” He
looked up at Henry and gave him a welcoming smile. “Who’s this big lad, then…? Not been picking up strangers along the way, ave ya, Mylon?” He extended his strong, chunky hand. “Henry.” He took hold of the other’s hand and gave a strong grip back. “Henry,” Pagworth repeated with a bigger smile on his face, “Nice handshake, lad… Tell a lot about someone by the way they take ya hand… Ya friends are round the back and I suppose ya want to join them, but by the looks of ya I’m sure ya want a bath and grab some grub beforehand… I’ll sort ya out in a tick but first… Mylon my boy,” he said while grabbing him by the shoulders. “Where’s Sung and Onaxe? It’s not like them to pass up the opportunity to take a few silver coins off o’ Pagworth.” Mylon gave an awkward glance at Henry and then back to Pagworth. Pagworth noticed the looks on their faces and knew immediately that something was wrong. “Let’s sit,” Mylon said as his took Pagworth’s hand off his shoulder.

  Henry sat quietly while Mylon informed Pagworth of the deaths of Onaxe and Sung. The old man’s face went white as he listened to Mylon’s events of the day. He told the old man nearly everything, even the fact that Henry was the host master – everything except for the Aelfgar. Mylon trusted Pagworth with his life, but that sort of dangerous information was best left to only those who needed to know. Once Mylon had finished speaking to Pagworth and after a few awkward minutes’ silence, Pagworth got up from the table and walked over to behind the bar. Henry glanced over to Mylon who just shrugged his shoulders and looked over to where Pagworth was busy pouring three drinks in small, clay drinking containers. “This is the best stuff in the house,” he said without looking up. “Been keeping it for a special occasion… Can’t think of any better reason than a drink in memory of two great fellows.”

  Mylon got up from the table and walked over to the bar to join him. Henry followed. Lifting his drink, he announced loudly, “To my good o’mates…Two of the best you’d ever meet… May Heaven’s wings take your souls to eternal rest.” Both Mylon and Henry raised their drinking containers and followed Pagworth by swallowing the drink down in one. Henry almost choked but managed to hold it back. “Strong stuff this, lad… Let’s have another.” Without waiting for a reply he filled all three containers back up and looked to Mylon to say his piece. “To my brothers in arms… Onaxe, who loved life and lived it to the full, and Sung… my friend from childhood for whom I have a lifetime of great memories… Heaven’s wings.” Mylon raised his drink followed by the others. “Heaven’s wings,” and again drank it down in one.

  Pagworth made his way around to Henry from behind the bar. Grabbing both of his arms, he looked him directly in the eye and then hugged him; Henry didn’t really know how to react so he hugged Pagworth back by patting his back as he did so. “You saved my best mate’s life,” he said, standing back. “In my book that makes ya alright, and if ya like it or not… ya now a friend of mine.” He then stood on tiptoe and kissed him on both cheeks. Henry looked over to Mylon only to find that he had a half-smile on his face. “Thanks… it means a lot to me to hear you say that.” Pagworth took a little time to compose himself, clearing his throat. “Let’s get ya settled in, then… Ya must be tired and hungry.” Henry followed Pagworth behind the bar to a heavy, wooden yellow door. “I’ll call back later,” Mylon announced. “You’re in good hands,” and on that he left the inn.

  Henry watched after him wondering how he managed to hold in his emotions. Mylon had put him first ever since they meet that afternoon, making sure his was cared for even after losing two of his lifelong friends. “He’ll be alright,” Pagworth said, interrupting his thoughts. Henry turned back to face him. “I can’t imagine what he must be going through.” Pagworth placed one chunky hand on Henry’s arm. “Ard as nails, that one… He will deal with it in his own way and in his own time… but I can tell ya, this young Henry, he will not rest until he finds out who was responsible for sending that ground wromp… And when he does… well, let’s leave it at that.” On that, he opened the door and escorted him through to the back rooms.

  Bert, Ben and Walt had already washed up and eaten, and were sitting in the small sunlit, brightly coloured courtyard at the back of the inn. Walt, as usual, was sitting a little distance from the others in the shade of an old, wooden, brightly painted lean-to. Ben and Bert were sitting on the other side of the yard, Bert on an old, colourful bench under a brightly coloured tree, and Ben lying on the ground next to him, half-asleep. “Well, what ave they been doing to you?” Bert bellowed, getting to his feet. “Ya look worse now than ya did earlier… If that were at all possible,” Henry smiled. He was pleased to see them again and to hear the reassuring insults from Bert. “I’ve… or should I say we have had a bit of a time of it… But if it’s alright with you, I’ll tell you all a little later… once I’ve had the opportunity to wash up and rest a little,” Henry replied, trying to play things down a little. He wasn’t yet ready to relive the day’s events.

  Unlike Mylon, Henry didn’t have the same inner courage or strength to consider others over himself, especially when he felt this bad. He needed a little time to himself. A lot had happened in such a short space of time and he needed time to make at least a little sense of it, or at least until he could find a way to tell them properly about the deaths of two elf guards by the hand of a ground wromp and how the powers of the Wyvern destroyed it. “’Cos it is… Time means nothing here… So, you go and do us all a favour and have a bath,” Bert said, waving his hand over his nose as if fanning away a smell whilst putting on an act to sound jolly. He had sensed from Henry and Pagworth that something wasn’t right, and when Henry did get around to telling them, he knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant news.

  Bree had no idea where she was going: all she knew was that she had to get away from the two sisters and find her Henry. Hanging about drinking tea and talking about the past wasn’t going to help him: she was totally unprepared, both physically and mentally. Firstly, she had nothing with her other than what she was wearing, but worst of all she wasn’t thinking clearly. Emotionally she was a mess and all she could think about was her sweet Henry and how to get to him.

  She covered ground quickly, heading back to the High-stones. Being the last place she had seen him, she hoped that she might be able to pick up his trail from there. It took her just a few hours to make it to the old stones. She slowed as she approached them: something was wrong, she could feel it. Staying within the cover of the trees, she scanned the area using her senses. Being a creature of the woodland, she had a keen connection to her environment, and her ears and eyes were clearer and sharper than most. Then she saw it, something tall and dark lurking in and around the edges of the trees.

  Then she sensed another… and then another. This was clearly a trap. She questioned whether she had already walked into it… and if so… was there a way out? if she was going to get out of this situation alive she had to try and control her emotions and clear her mind: she needed to think clearly and be able to react swiftly should the need arise. Slowly she melted back deeper into the trees, keeping low and using the undergrowth for cover. It was almost dusk and starting to get dark, which could work in her favour. She sat back and remained perfectly still, trying to become one with the night.

  Moments went by as she sat watching and listening to every sound around her. Then to her horror she noticed a strange ground mist beginning to develop, but not like any mist she’d seen before. Fingers of mist clawed their way along the ground as if alive, moving between the large stones as if searching for something… Or someone. The mist had a purpose for being there. But what? She watched as the mist crept ever closer to where she was concealed. She held her breath when it came within just a few feet of her. Then, from out of the mist a dark figure materialised. Bree froze. At first, she had no idea what it was: all she knew was that she had no escape, she was caught between the eerie mist and whatever it was that found her. Slowly the mist started to take shape and she suddenly realised who it was. “Alfwald!” she gasped.


  The large, dark shade made no attempt to move any closer to her. His shade blending into darkness and the mist that surrounded them with sword in hand, the shade was as solid as her one second, and almost transparent the next. “You are the wood nymph,” it stated in a deep, penetrating voice that reverberated throughout her entire body. “We’ve met… have we not?” But she was far too frightened to answer. “Where is the boy?” It paused a second. “I no longer sense him to be within this realm.” It moved a little closer.

  Bree was now on her feet and tried to back off, but the undergrowth that only moments before was her shelter was far too dense and had now become her prison. She had no escape, caged like a frightened animal. “I am tired of playing these silly games.” Bree stood frozen with fear: her worst nightmares had all come at once. “Answer me, nymph… Where is he?” Alfwald bellowed, seemingly blocking out everything around him with a bone-chilling voice and making the whole night around them stand still. Bree couldn’t answer and had no idea where Henry was, even if she could, she would never put her Henry in danger, even if it meant her life. With no escape, she could do nothing, except wait for her inevitable demise. Alfwald lifted his hand as he were gripping something. Bree immediately started to choke: holding her throat with both hands, she dropped down and started to roll around on the damp, muddy ground, trying her hardest to get her breath.

  Alfwald lowered his hand and opened it, and at the same time Bree managed to gasp for air, now able to breathe again. She tried to get up. “Stay, little one,” Alfwald ordered, and Bree did as she was ordered. “I’ve let you live once again… Proof I’m not the monster many believe me to be.” Alfwald paused. “You will look for him… this I sense… you will not be able to do otherwise… I can sense that the boy is in every cell of your being… and I’m sure with your skills… your determination and foolish love for him, that you will succeed in finding him… I will allow you to live so you may do so… for me,” he said in a matter-of-fact way.