Between Darkness and the Light

by Paul T. H. Mitchener

  Nog stroked Grog’s head and then reluctantly got up to join his master. Henry was still shouting when Nog stood beside him and placed a hand softly on his arm. “Master,” Nog said softly. Henry turned to face him, his eyes yellow with rage, but Nog held his gaze and kept hold of his arm, and for some unexplainable reason, Henry immediately started to calm down. It was as though just the touch of Nog’s hand generated a calming feeling throughout his whole being. “Master… the obelisk,” Nog said. In his rage with the shadow master and Sophia, Henry had totally forgotten why he was in this godforsaken place. Taking a second to recompose himself, he looked at Sophia and tried a smile. “Sorry.” Sophia smiled back and nodded to him that she understood how he felt, having had the same feelings and frustrations all her life. Now fully back in control of his emotions, Henry turned his attention back to the obelisk. Now that the shadow master had gone, the electrical protection around it had also disappeared. Gingerly, Henry stepped forward and quickly poked the shiny, well-polished stone with the tip of the spear. Ensuring it was now safe, he looked back over Sophia and indicated for her to join him. Giving her the Moonstone, he then stood back a little: although the shadow master was now gone, this could still be a trap for the Wyvern.

  Sophia stepped forward and placed the Moonstone within the inscriptions. It fitted perfectly. She stood back and nodded to Henry. He took a deep breath and then placed the Aelfgar tip onto the stone and closed his eyes to concentrate on the two powers at his command. He released just a little of the Wyvern’s powers to activate the powers that lay within the Aelfgar. Slowly a glowing, yellow ribbon snaked its way down his arm and then into the shaft of the Aelfgar, immediately bringing it to life. The tip of the spear glowed so brightly that no one other than Henry or Nog could look at it. At first, nothing happened, then with a loud cracking sound the obelisk shook, then another crack, and seconds later the whole monument started to crack along its surface like an eggshell. At first hundreds of tiny cracks ran their way around it, turning into even larger ones.

  Still with the Moonstone pressed against the obelisk by the elf spear, Henry called upon the Moonstone’s full powers. The ground suddenly shook around him, but he managed to still keep his footing as hundreds of lost souls hissed out of the cracks like small jets of steam, screaming and calling out to all that would listen to their cries. Two or three very large lumps of stone fell, crashing onto the ground next to Henry and just missing him. Sophia called out to Nog, “Save your master!” Nog at first looked a little confused. “Your master… save him!” she shouted just as another large chunk of masonry fell. Nog immediately disappeared and reappeared next to Henry just in time to push him out of its way, but unfortunately Nog wasn’t fast enough to get out of its way and caught a glancing blow on his already injured shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Henry rushed back onto his feet. “Nog!” he cried out as his ran to his aid. Nog at first didn’t respond. Henry rolled him over on his back. “Nog!” he called again, trying to be heard over the screams of the thousands of formless souls of those long dead.

  Nog opened his eyes. “Master,” Nog gasped, staring up at him with his large, saucepan eyes. Henry smiled and then looked up as Sophia got his attention. “We have to get out of here!” she shouted. “Can you move?!” she shouted to Nog. Nog was a little dazed but managed to sit up. Without saying another word, Henry helped Nog up on his feet. Again large chunks of masonry rained down around them as they struggled to get clear. To Henry’s surprise, Nog was a lot heavier than he had anticipated, but with one last lunge, they dived to the ground just in time to be clear of the heavier, more dangerous debris, but they still weren’t clear of it all. For a moment at least, they all disappeared when a large cloud of dust encased them.

  When the dust finally settled, for a moment at least, all was quiet. Even the screams from the freed spirits had ceased, and then from somewhere amongst the debris a cough broke the silence as Henry tried to clear the dust from his mouth and throat. Gingerly he sat up and looked around. The whole area looked like a disaster zone: large lumps of masonry, shattered headstones and monuments as far as he could see. Suddenly concerned for Nog, he looked to see if he could find any signs of him or the others. The first person Henry noticed was Alfwald, who was running towards him, weaving and jumping over the debris with such ease. On seeing Henry, Alfwald stopped just before reaching him. “What the…” he muttered as he looked around, reaching down to take Henry’s arm to help him up. “Are you okay…?” he asked.

  Henry looked a sight, covered head-to-toe in white dust, his red hair matted with sweat and dirt, his big, green eyes standing out from his white, dust-covered face. “I think so,” Henry replied. “Where’s Nog?” With that, the rubble beside him started to move. Nog pushed some of the larger lumps away so that he could stand up. Despite the circumstances, Henry had to smile to himself. Nog looked just like an oversized snowball. His big, brown eyes looked as though they were just stuck on a round, fluffy, white ball. “Is master alright?” he asked. Henry smiled. “I’m fine… let’s find your brother.” He looked to Alfwald. “Will you get my mother…? I need to find us a way to get back.” The thought of home without his mother nearly ripped his insides out. Since becoming a teenager, he had always been difficult and often went out of his way to find an argument with her. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that he would have to live his life without her. Up to a few days ago, his life seemed so normal, if not a little boring. He had often craved excitement, but now he would trade anything to have his old life back. However, he knew that was now behind him: his new life had now begun, a life that would demand so much from him, a life of uncertainty and danger, a life without his mother. Tears welled up in his eyes, leaving little, clean trails as they ran down his dusty, white face.

  Clearing his throat, Henry rubbed the tears from his face and started negotiating his way through the debris towards his mother. Alfwald had covered her with his cloak, which was now also covered in white dust. The freed spirits had disappeared, and the dark storm clouds had dispersed, leaving a hazy, almost dusk-like feel to the place, and now that the spirits were at rest, it all felt at peace. But Henry still had no idea what this place was. He was sure that it wasn’t the underworld: in his mind, it was definitely something else, but he was too emotionally drained to care. His main concern now was that he needed to find a way home. Henry stood over his mother for a moment, deep within his own thoughts. Alfwald stood a respectable distance away, allowing his son a little time to come to terms with the fact that his mother was gone. He then took a step forward and placed his hand on Henry’s arm. “Son…” he said softly. Henry looked up at him. “Leave her with me… I will take care of her.” With tears in his eyes, Henry just stared at his father. “And if you ask Acca… he may let you see her again.” Henry had no idea what he was talking about, but he was too tired physically and mentally to question it. He gave Alfwald a quick smile and a nod before walking off to find Nog and his brother, and was pleased to see that Grog was standing, albeit with the aid of his brother.

  “How bad is it?” he asked Nog as he approached them, but by the look on Nog’s face, it was clear that Grog wasn’t in good shape. “We’ll get you fixed up… as soon as I find a way home.” Nog sat his brother on a large piece of broken obelisk, making sure that Grog was alright before speaking to Henry. “We can get you home, master… Grog and I.” He was surprised and a little confused as to why they wouldn’t have mentioned this before. “And why wasn’t I told this earlier?” he asked, trying to hold back his temper. Nog didn’t reply right away, instead he just held Henry’s glare for a second or two, then very calmly said, “Master had to stop the darkness… but not if Grog and me took you back… Our master had to stay… When time was right we take you home… Now, master… we leave this place.”

  Henry was taken aback by the firm, decisive way Nog had answered him. Nog was right: he had to stay and finish the job, but that was his decision to make, not Nog’s or anyone else�
�s. Henry hated the feeling of being manipulated by nearly everybody around him. He would have expected it from Acca and even his father and aunt, but it hurt him to think of being used by his mother and now the two individuals he had come to trust the most. Nog was the first to speak after a brief moment of awkward silence. “Me and Grog have served many masters… some strong like Alfwald, others not so.” He paused to check that his brother was alright before continuing. “We serve the host for one reason… to help our master keep the balance of life.” He paused again, this time for thought. “Master… had to defeat the darkness… Grog and me would not be doing our duty… to you… or ourselves if we did not help you stay and fight.”

  Nog looked down at his feet, almost ashamed for his actions and said no more, expecting Henry to start ranting at him. Instead, Henry placed a hand on his shoulder. “You did what you had to do… that’s all.” He looked over to where Grog was sitting. “You and your brother have sacrificed enough.” He smiled. “It’s time to go home.” Grog had been listening but was too weak to try and engage in their conversation, even though he had plenty to say. Instead he just sat, listened and stared at the strange sight that stood before him: his brother, one mass of white fluff, and his master looking as though he was made from chalk. “Sorry for lady Hazel,” Nog muttered without looking up. Henry patted him once on the shoulder, which immediately created a small cloud of fine, white dust. “So am I, Nog,” he replied, almost choking on his words as he tried to hold back the tears.

  Henry turned to face Alfwald and his mother one last time. It was hard for him to leave her, but Alfwald seemed so certain when he said that he would see her again. He would usually have dismissed such a promise in a heartbeat; but one thing he had learned over the past few days was that “nothing is impossible”. Alfwald raised his arm, gesturing goodbye. Henry reluctantly raised his. “We must leave, master,” Nog insisted. “Must go now.” Henry lowered his arm, turned to Nog and nodded. “Over here, master,” Nog said, leading him to where Grog was sitting.

  Henry followed almost in a trance as he wrestled with his emotions. He wanted to return home desperately: he missed Bree more than he could put into words, but leaving his mother and father behind like this didn’t feel right. Although he had just met his father, he was sure that, given time, they would get along. Then, to Henry’s surprise, Nog took his hand. “Hold Grog’s hand, master,” he instructed, again almost robotically. He did as he was told: with one last glance over to Alfwald and his mother, he nodded for them to leave. Henry had seen the two oddballs appear and disappear a few times, but up to now he hadn’t wondered what it must feel like to vanish into thin air. He looked at Grog. The fear Henry felt must have been reflected in his face. “Just a tickle, master,” Grog just managed to say before a strange sensation travelled throughout his body. It wasn’t so much a tickle, more like pins and needles – the kind of sensation you would experience if you sat on your hand or leg for some time. Henry so desperately wanted to close his eyes but he was too afraid to do so.

  Still looking over to where his father was standing, Henry fought back his fears as everything around him started to go fuzzy and blurred, until everything went white. He closed his eyes as he struggled against the strange pins and needles feeling, then as quickly as it came, the sensation stopped. Gingerly he opened his eyes, only to find that he was now standing in the clearing around Acca. He looked up at the tree and the multicoloured lights dancing throughout Acca’s branches, then suddenly Bree slammed into him and jumped into his arms. Henry held tight and pushed his face into her shoulders. With eyes filled with tears of sorrow and of joy: they just held each other for what seemed like forever. Nothing was said between them, because nothing had to be said: they were so close to one another that words weren’t needed. Mylon and the others watched for a moment and then turned their attention on Grog, who looked as though he was about to collapse. Bert rushed forward and took him in his strong arms and escorted him over to the base of the old oak. “Ere sit…” he said as he lowered him to the ground. “Ya looks right banged up… let’s ave a good look.” Nog walked over to join him. “Can Bert help?” he asked. Bert looked up at him. “’Course I can… once I knows what’s wrong with him… Now stand back and let a man work.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Nog did as instructed and took a step back, albeit reluctantly, and watched as Bert generated another of the little green flames. “Ere, take this,” he said, handing it to Grog. To Bert’s surprise, Grog was so weak, he just had enough strength to hold out his hand to take it. Bert allowed the little green flame to float across to his tiny hands. “Just sit there a mo… and let it do its work… It may take a while but it’ll help heal ya… Stay put… I’ll be back before ya realise that I’m gone.” With that, Bert stood up and took Nog to one side. “What appened to him…? And leave nuffink out, mind,” he asked. Nog explained how Grog was attacked by the shadow master and that it was a red ball of fire that hit his brother, rendering him unconscious. “Fire hit Grog hard… made him fall back… unconscious long time… I was worried for him… still worried,” he said very sheepishly.

  Bert slapped Nog on the back. A small amount of the fine, white dust flew into the air, most of which had dispersed when they teleported back to the clearing. “Not to worry any longer, old friend… if it’s just the red flame, then its nuffink I can’t fix!” Bert bellowed and turned his attention back to Grog and knelt back down to tend to his injuries. All the while, Mylon had stayed back deliberately, allowing Bert to do what was necessary to heal his friend, but when Bert turned his back to attend to Grog, he left poor Nog looking lost and rubbing his shoulder. Now feeling it was the right time, Mylon walked over to Nog and held out his hand. “Good to see both of you back… safe if not sound,” he said, shaking Nog’s hand. “I’m sure Bert will fix your brother up as good as new,” he continued, with one of his reassuringly smiles. Nog gave a reluctant nod, then whispered, “Lady Hazel.” Mylon moved a little closer. “We know,” he whispered back. “Sophia has filled us all in on the details… So for now, put them at the back of your mind and concentrate on helping your brother and getting better yourself.” Nog looked over to Bert and Grog, then gave Mylon another reluctant nod. “Will help Grog… but must also help my master… like me… he’s very sad.” Mylon looked over to where Henry and Bree were standing, still in a tight embrace. Still he yearned to be with her: the closeness he felt for Bree when she helped him with his grief over his father was as fresh now as it was then. He sighed and turned to Nog. “Forget about your master for a moment… he’s in good hands.” With that, Mylon walked off to be alone for a moment and to try and compose his own emotions. Seeing her so close to another pained him more than he could bear, but he had a lot of work ahead of him. His kingdom needed him to be strong and decisive: acting like a lovesick child wouldn’t do him or anyone else any good.

  Unbeknown to Mylon, Poppy had been watching his every move, it was her duty to do so but that wasn’t all: she was almost infatuated with him and was now allowing her feelings for him to cloud her judgements. She should be on the lookout for potential threats to his safety. Instead she had been concentrating her attention on two individuals, neither of whom was a threat to Mylon. However, to her, they were. Her feelings for her king had grown from admiration to infatuation… and that was dangerous for both her and Mylon and, unfortunately, Lilly wasn’t here to correct her. Poppy knew that Mylon would never be hers, not with that moody nymph and old lady hanging around him. As far as she was concerned, the sooner they got back home and put some distance between the three, the better.

  Henry finally stood back from Bree’s embrace, but remained holding her hand. Now that they were back together again, he wanted to keep it that way. He took a second to take in her beauty: even dirty, bedraggled and unwashed as she was, she still looked incredible. Staring back at him with her large, green eyes, she smiled and the whole of her childlike face lit up. In the corner of his eye, Henry noticed that So
phia was walking over in their direction. “Aunt,” he said, as he turned to welcome her. She stopped and gently placed her hand on his arm. They had all been through so much, but for now no words were necessary: just the reassuring touch of Sophia’s hand was enough for Henry.

  They took a moment to just look at one another, sadness reflecting on both their faces. Then Sophia did something that she had never done before: she grabbed Henry, pulling him away from Bree and held him tight to her as she openly cried on his shoulder. All the while Ben was sitting quietly near the edge of the clearing and, as usual, watching and listening to everything that was going on. He was, of course, as upset as any for Hazel’s loss. She was a wonderfully kind, gentle women and, like Bert, he had known her all of his life. He was going to miss her, even though she had isolated herself from them for nearly eighteen years. He’d always known that she was there for them if they needed her; and as for young Henry, Ben couldn’t see how he’d manage facing life without her, especially now that he was the host. So much would be asked of him: now more than ever he needed his mother for support and encouragement. However, Ben knew only too well that life had to go on, for good or for bad. To Ben, Henry was a moody and unpredictable individual, but over recent adventures he had proven himself to be strong and resourceful; and he wasn’t alone. He had Bree, and with help and support from her and all those around him, he should do just fine.

  Nightfall found Henry on the other side of the large oak from the others, lying back on the damp ground with his arms behind his head, staring up at the cold, clear night sky. His thoughts were not on the dancing marvel of the thousands of coloured lights that played out before him, but on his mother. Thinking back to when he was just a young boy, and like all children he was mischievous and sometimes disobedient, but his mother always used to say that he was full of the joys of spring. The first memory he had of his mother was when he was five or six years old: he had been bullied by several larger boys and ran home from school crying. His mother stopped whatever it was that she was doing and spent the rest of that afternoon and early evening singing and playing games with him. She never had to say in words how much she loved him: it was always there, in everything she had done for him and in everything she said. Even when they were arguing, he knew that it was out of love; and somehow she had the ability to make him feel just that little bit more special, and had taught him at an early age to try and rise above petty acts of bullying and selfishness, to ignore them and treat them for exactly what they were – “petty and unimportant” – and to concentrate solely on things and people that really mattered in his life.