Dark Humanity

by Gwynn White

  Stephye also dropped his reigns and his mount and Christol’s now meander several hundred feet behind the others. He turned to his friend, “And?”

  “And it frightened Ellora. She felt as if all the powers of creation were consuming her, and then when the Goddess manifested in flames on her body, that was it. She’d always hated using the magic. Was always afraid of it, and now she just wants to be free which is why she is determined to go to Maura.”

  “Okay, so what does this have to do with Riesa and the weird way she is acting?”

  “Don’t you see she has no controls? She never received the proper training in allowing the Goddess to work through her. When she took over Ellora’s role as high priestess the Goddess just consumed her. Riesa doesn’t exist anymore.”

  Stephye’s mount came to a complete standstill, and Gallant joined it.

  “So what does that mean? Stephye asked at last.

  Christol sighed again in frustration for the loss his friend was experiencing. Stephye and Riesa had been lovers as long as he and Ellora had been in love.

  “It means we need to find a way to free her from the grip the power has on her mind and heart,” Christol replied. “We need something that will shock her back into herself. Something so horrible that the pain will loosen the Goddess’ grip on her spirit. It would have to involve something she cares deeply about.”

  “There are only three things that have ever mattered to Riesa. Ellora, serving the Goddess and loving me.”

  “Okay, well Ellora pretty much invincible as well as unapproachable at the moment, and she is already serving the Goddess, so that just leaves her love for you.”

  Stephye’s eyes narrowed as he watched the calculating look on his best friend’s face. That same look had caused him endless grief throughout their lifelong friendship. “If you are thinking what I think you are thinking, you can just forget it.”

  “It’s the only way, and I know it will work.”

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  “Well, then we’ll both be dead, and it won’t matter anymore.”

  Chapter Eight

  Jogli’s thoughts twisted and wound around like a bag full of snakes dropped in an ale barrel endlessly encircling in on themselves without finding a way out. He’d told Vail everything he knew. The hours of bloody torture ensured that. However, there were parts of the event that he hadn’t told him simply because he had no words to explain them.

  Behind him, he heard a curse as a horse stumbled, and then the good-natured ribbing of his cohorts about the fellow’s riding skills. He halfway turned in his saddle to cast his eye on the motley group of so-called soldiers. And that became just another thought to circle round in his mind. You can’t turn plow hands in to sword wielders it’s like turning a strumpet into a pastry chef. It could happen, but it takes hours of training and dedication, and this group had neither.

  He sighed loud enough to startle his horse into a trot and didn’t bother to hold it back. If he could, he’d run away with it, and that led him back to his previous tangle of thoughts. He’d answered the wizard as honestly as he could about what had happened when the dragon attacked. However, he didn’t lose control of the dragon as the wizard assumed, and had punished him for. Something or someone more likely, had taken over. He had felt the reins of control ripped from his hands. It shattered his magic as if it had been no more than a breath of air and then encircled the enormous beast, and forced it to attack the troop it had been guarding. Its furious roar of anger proved that it had no more wanted to attack them than butterfly would attack a creeping snail.

  Jogli knew magic, he had been on the receiving end of Vail’s magic since the day the wizard had rescued him from the squalid streets of Marbeht, and this magic did not resemble his in anyway. It had not been the Goddess’ either. Her magic never attacked innocents, and as much as Jogli hated to admit it, his conscripted foot soldiers were as much a victim of Vail’s plans as he was. No, this magic was something else, something more powerful. And as Jogli’s mind worked its way around these ideas, a new thought blossomed.

  Deep within the human spirit, even in the most dire and darkest circumstances, when hope is offered the human mind will latch onto it. It’s the life preserver thrown to a drowning man, or the light shining into a cave-in, or the call of a rescuer to one lost in the depths of the Draekhen Mountains. And Jogli’s spirit latched onto the thought of a magic more powerful than Vail’s because it offered him the hope of freedom.

  Ellora seat on her mount was tense and awkward as anger and frustration at the route Bydern chose took them further away from Maura’s cave and ever closer to the Halls of Marbeht. True to his word, he did know a back way into the castle one watched by neither dragon nor wizard. However, his constant chatter and tales of mean, ornery dog-chasing geese, runaway cows and horses who walked right in his cottage’s front door soon had her feeling more relaxed than she had since this flame-cursed journey had begun.

  A faint smile played on her lips as she remembered her own encounters with demon cursed geese. She sat more relaxed in the saddle now; allowing a drowsy contentment to slip over her when the sound of angry words shattered the morning’s peace like sound of a dropped glass shatters the solemnity of a welcoming toast.

  “That’s not what I said. That’s the whole problem you never listen to what I say, and if you do you think my opinion is not worth kindling for the Goddess’ fire.” Stephye yelled.

  “That’s because it isn’t. It’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.” Christol responded.

  “And, exactly what did I say?”

  “You said we should just charge straight into the castle and attack the wizard with Riesa’s magic.”

  Stephye shook his head, “No that is not what I said.”

  By this time their argument had drawn everyone’s attention, and their mounts were soon circled by Riesa’s and Ellora’s. Bydern rode double with Riesa. Her small frame accommodated a second rider much easier than Ellora’s nearly six-foot stature. Riesa and Bydern’s mount blocked Stephye’s and Ellora blocked Christol.

  “By the name of all that’s holy to the Goddess, what are you arguing about?” Riesa demanded. “We don’t have time for this?”

  “That idiot,” and Christol was pointing to his best friend, Stephye,” “wants us to just charge up the front steps of the castle at Marbeht and blow the wizard away with your new found magic.”

  “Isn’t that what we are planning on doing by going through the back door instead of the front?” Stephye ignored Christol's insult. He knew his friend to well to take it seriously.

  Christol gave Riesa the same look he had given Stephye. “No, that’s not what I had planned.”

  Riesa raised an arch eyebrow, which clearly said who exactly put you in charge, but her actual words were quite different, “We follow the commands of the Goddess as we have done and will continue to do so.”

  “And what if we don’t want to?” Christol snuck a peak at Stephye to make sure he was on board. A slight nod answered him.

  “At this point in the journey, you no longer have a choice,” Riesa responded. “You offered yourself to Her service when you volunteered for this journey, and now you will continue on as commanded.”

  Christol cleared his throat and a slight sheen of sweat shown on his brow as he continued, “Well, now that is not exactly correct. We offered to accompany Ellora not you.”

  Riesa turned toward Stephye who only nodded in agreement with his friend.

  “We are going no further on this fool’s errand. You are on your own the rest of the way. If the Goddess wants to stop Vail, well let her do it. We want no part of it.” The two men pulled hard on their mounts reins, causing them to rear up and change directions all in one graceful and powerful movement. And with that, they charged back in the direction they had come from the river.

  “Stop” came the shouted command. “In the name of the Goddess, you must stop and return to me!” A powerful bolt of magic,
like lightening only clearer, brighter and more focused shot from Riesa’s upraised hands. It hit both men squarely between the shoulders. Gallant and Stephye’s mount, Charger, stampeded for tree coverage as both their riders fell lifeless to the ground.

  “What did you do!” Ellora reached across her horse’s neck and grabbed for Riesa’s hair. Pulled back in a braid, it swung down her back, easily within the Huntress’ reach. Yanking on it, the way she would pull back the reins of a charging horse effectively swung Riesa around in her saddle, bringing them both to jarring stop with both horses pawing at the air as their riders jerked the reins harder than normal.

  “I did what was necessary,” Riesa, responded her head high, her eyes clear of any indecision or guilt, and her manner as cold as the snow on the peaks of the Draekhen Mountains.

  This time Ellora grabbed Riesa by the shoulders turning her completely sideways in the saddle. “That wasn’t necessary and it wasn’t right. That is not how the High Priestess of the Goddess works. She is the Goddess of Love. Everything her priestesses do is done in love, in care for her creation, even the daily sacrifices are done in love to ensure the balance of nature is maintained.”

  Ellora laid both hands on Riesa’s shoulders, forcing the woman to look directly into her eyes. “There was nothing loving about that. It was about power, about forcing your will on them, about making them fear and obey you. You have always hungered for power, and that is why you were not chosen for training as high priestess.”

  For the first time since the Goddess’ power had overcome Riesa, the woman’s eyes held something other than disdain and contempt. Confusion clouded her blue eyes that were normally full of confidence and certainty. Seeing this first hint of hesitation, Ellora continued, “I was chosen to server Her as a child, you know this?”

  Riesa nodded her silence a more telling sign of her emotional agitation than anything else did. Riesa was a talker. She talked when she was happy; she talked when she was sad. She yammered away when she was nervous or tired, but she was never quiet. Ellora, who knew her better than either her mother or her lover, knew she had finally gotten through to her, and continued, “You were the first choice. You are the better hunter, the better tracker, your passion fuels your hunts and all your actions, and that was the problem. You have too much passion.”

  Again, Riesa only nodded, and for once, both their mounts were content to simply stand and graze without trying to stray toward greener pastures.

  “You had too much passion and not enough love.” Ellora hung her head as she spoke, breaking eye contact with her once best friend. “The Goddess is love first and always. All that she does is done in and for love, and her high priestess must be an example of this at all times. The Goddess’ power is used only in love, to heal, to mend, and to right a wrong. Never to control, to bend someone to your will or your desires.”

  She looked up and found tears sparkling in her friend’s blue eyes. Like the crystal blue waters of Nyamene Bay, which were clear and still, but hid turbulent undertows, Ellora knew Riesa’s thoughts were swirling with unexpressed emotions.

  “So you were chosen because you love more?”

  “I was chosen because I hate to kill. I am the Huntress, the Chosen one of the Goddess, and I hate feeling the deaths of each of her creatures. I always have. They told me I was chosen because I love too much.”

  Ellora reached for her friend’s hands. “It’s not that you did not love enough. It’s just that I love too much. So between us, they picked me. But you were the better choice with your passion and intelligence. However, you were not trained to handle Her powers, Her demands, Her Spirit, and…Ellora turned her head toward where Christol and Stephye still lay.

  “That’s what happens,” said Riesa, finishing both Ellora’s thoughts and her sentence.

  “Exactly.”

  “Are they still alive?” Riesa asked, concern, love and guilt now filling her voice and eyes with tears.

  “I would think so,” Ellora said. “The Goddess seldom gives a high priestess killing power. It has to be for the good of all of her creatures….”

  “And that wasn’t” Riesa said, again completing the rest of the sentence.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “Well, you are the High Priestess now. You can heal them. So, you better get to it if we are ever going to get to Marbeht.”

  Christol’s smirk reminded Stephye of the look he had seen on a cat who had just tipped over a full milk can, smug, self-satisfied and insufferable. The words that came from his mouth weren’t any better. “I told you it would work.”

  “Well, it may have worked, but there is still something seriously wrong with Riesa. It’s as if she’s gone dead inside. Her fire’s gone. All of what made her sparkle and glow seems to have been snuffed out like the candle flame.” The sheen of tears glittered in Stephye’s eyes as he thought about his love. And, how the things he loved most in her appeared to have disappeared.

  The smug look disappeared, and one of sorrow replaced it. “I think you’re right. She’s almost like a tailor’s dummy. She looks like Riesa, but all the things that were Riesa are gone.”

  “Why? How? This never happened to Ellora.”

  They rode together, behind the two women and no sign of their injuries marred either their appearance or their manner. Yet, both men felt the need to distance themselves from the new high priestess hoping that Ellora’s influence would temper the wild magic that Riesa now wielded.

  “Stephye, I honestly don’t know,” Christol said shaking his head. “It may have something to do with why Ellora became the chosen one and Riesa did not. It may also have something to do with the years of training Ellora received.”

  Stephye rubbed his chin deep in thought. “Yeah, there were days when Ellora stayed at the temple long after Riesa’s return. I always did wonder why.”

  He turned in the saddle to face Christol, “How did you…”

  “Keep on loving her in spite of the fact that we had no future together?”

  Stephye nodded. The only sound the soft clomping of their horses hooves on the evergreen needles that covered their path.

  Christol didn’t hesitate, and his words and voice were strong and sure, “I loved her. I love her. I will always love her. I knew it from that first day in school when she stopped a bully from tripping that lame boy, umm… Liam.”

  “I remember him,” Stephye interjected, but Christol kept on speaking as if reaffirming for himself what he had always known. His eyes glazed with images, memories and their specific meanings.

  “She had been so strong, so fearless, so loving. She acted as if she didn’t care what the bully did to her as long as she could make sure Liam was safe and stayed that way. And, then when the bully left, her words to Liam sealed her in my heart forever.”

  “What did she say?” And, this time Christol’s passion for Ellora captured Stephye’s full attention.

  “She said, ‘Liam, look at me.’ And he looked into her eyes as she held his chin in her hands. ‘The Goddess gave you a special gift. She created you with the ability to know what it is like to be different. This is not the curse you think it is. It is a gift because with this understanding you can help those who are also different. You will be able to lift them up, just as I have done with you today, and help them on their path in life. You are strong. You are healthy. You are loved and blessed by the Goddess, and the next time some bully makes fun of you, you hold your head high and proud because you know the Goddess trusted you to be strong enough to be different enough to help others. You see, I am different too. Only my difference doesn’t show like yours. So you are actually stronger than I am because people can see your difference and make fun of it giving you the chance to show them just how strong you are every day. Me, I just get to do it once in a while.’”

  “And then what happened?”

  “And then she said, ‘My difference is that I love too much, but the Goddess didn’t
think I was strong enough so the chance to show how much I love doesn’t happen very often.’ Then she kissed Liam on the cheek and said, ‘I love you, Liam, and I thank you for giving me the chance to show you just how much I do.’”

  Christol cleared his throat and swiped a hand across his eyes. “That’s when I knew. I knew I loved her, and would be with her for the rest of my life even if only as her stable hand.”

  “So…when she was selected as high priestess and could no longer marry…”

  “It made no difference. I still love her. I always will.” Christol sighed to the point that Gallant turned his large head around as if to ask, “Something the matter?” Christol replied only with a sharp snap of the reins.

  “You know what Liam does today, don’t you?” He asked, finally.

  Stephye shook his head.

  “He runs an orphanage in Thonevrond.”

  Stephye made a choking sound and only Christol’s arm grabbing a handful of his jacket sleeve prevented him from falling headfirst out of his saddle.

  “That…” Words failed him as he tried to visualize an orphanage on the edge of the Catacombs of Porthca.

  “Exactly,” Christol answered. “On the edge of the badlands, at the mouth of the dragons’ home, and where all the unwanted children and people of Mithlonde end up because they have nowhere else to go.”

  “And you think…”

  Christol interrupted him. “I think nothing. I know. I know Liam would not have done this, would not have been able to achieve this without Ellora’s love and encouragement that day. No one, no one voluntarily goes to Thonevrond. Yet, he is there and he and the children he care for are not only surviving, they are thriving.”

  Stephye looked over at his friend with his self-satisfied smirk. Yet, he didn’t find himself annoyed with Christol. Rather, he identified with his friend’s pleasure. But, he had one more question to ask.