Shadows of the Realm (The Circle of Talia)

by Lister, Dionne

  He denied his fear. “I’m not scared! OK, I’ll stay. It still feels wrong, though.” Jeddy let his voice trail off into the silence.

  Irving had already forgotten his friend. His transfixed eyes followed the pallid luminosity to its origin behind the rock. The urge to reach the light had taken hold of him. He hurriedly climbed over the rock, scraping his knees and dripping hot wax on his hand, all of which went unfelt.

  Jeddy could still see his friend from the waist up. He had stopped and was looking down at his feet. “I’ve found something.” He bent down and Jeddy lost sight of him.

  Irving knelt on the hard, rock floor, mouth agape and whispered, “Wow.” He hesitated before gently picking up the object and cradling it in his thin arms.

  Jeddy suddenly felt cold and hugged his arms around himself. “Irving? Are you OK? What is it?”

  Irving stood and turned to look at his friend. “Look what I found. Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” Irving, in his rapture, didn’t see the look on his friend’s face for what it was. Absolute terror.

  The young boy was holding the skull of a long-dead creature, one that almost no one on Talia would recognise today. The large skull was at least two metres long. It was from an infant of a long-disappeared species. The diseased glow leached from two diamond shaped eye sockets and a wide, sharp-toothed maw that Jeddy noticed had not one, but two rows of teeth. It reminded him of the sharks his father sometimes caught. Dry, leathery skin flaked off bone as Irving softly caressed the repulsive specimen. Sharp barbs cut deep into his hands, drawing blood.

  As Jeddy watched, horribly paralysed by the sight, the oozing light redirected itself and surrounded Irving. The light dribbled over the young, innocent boy, crawling into every orifice, pervading his body. Eventually the light ceased its slithering invasion, now encasing the boy. The skull disintegrated into dust, and Irving stood transformed.

  Jeddy screamed. Time moved slowly; it felt like an eternity in which he was paralysed in the presence of pure evil. He stopped screaming and ran.

  Irving’s newly yellow eye sockets emanated a palpable malevolence. Irving, as his mother and friends had known him, was no longer there. What used to be Irving looked around the now dark cave. It could see in the dark and didn’t need light; in fact, light rendered it almost blind. It grinned, smelling the fear from the retreating human child. It was happy to know a feed was imminent. The alien creature ordered its newly acquired, short, human legs to move, and ran after Jeddy.

  Jeddy was running as fast as he could without light. The candle clenched in his fist had gone out. He was breathing hard, his nostrils burning with damp, musty cave air. He had no idea where the creature— for he didn’t consider it to be his friend anymore—was. That thought made him retreat faster. All too soon the passage narrowed. Where he should have bent down, he instead slammed his head on the rough surface. The boy slumped to the floor in a moment of stupefaction. Unfortunately for him, he was only momentarily unconscious.

  Jeddy opened his eyes and in the darkness saw nothing. He opened his eyes wider in a futile attempt to see. He couldn’t hear anything over his own ragged breathing. Suddenly, overpoweringly, a putrid odour slithered into his nostrils. He scrambled on all fours in an attempt to get away from the evil he knew was coming. He could hear the creature’s footsteps alter from a staccato run to a slow walk. It was only steps away. Jeddy scraped hands and knees in a desperate retreat, but the tears streaming down his face were those of fear, not pain.

  Jeddy knew that whatever controlled his friend was pure malevolence. He knew he was going to die. Jeddy tried not to cry, but he was only a boy. Sallow, yellow luminescence washed over him from behind, until it was lighting the way in front of him. He couldn’t crawl fast enough. Jeddy sprang to his feet. As he did so, the creature tackled him from behind. When they slammed to the floor, sharp pain shot up Jeddy’s arm. He looked at it. Broken bone protruded into the tainted light, midway from wrist to elbow. Nevertheless he continued to struggle, but the small, possessed body on top of him had an unnatural strength. He couldn’t break free.

  The creature from the Third Realm turned Jeddy over and stared hungrily into his terrified eyes, happily licking the tears from the boy’s face. Bile bubbled up to Jeddy’s mouth and putrid air invaded his lungs.

  He looked despairingly into yellow eyes, hoping against reality that Irving was in there somewhere. The alien’s cold orbs stared back. They held no sympathy, no warmth, only cruel death. The parasite that had been his best friend ripped off Jeddy’s shirt. Whilst pinning him down with one unbelievably strong arm, it sniffed his torso. Jeddy felt warm saliva drip onto his skin. He wriggled in one last attempt to escape his fate. The young boy watched in dread as the creature opened its mouth and tore a large chunk out of his stomach. He vomited as pain consumed his body. He said a last goodbye to his mother and father and begged the gods to protect his soul.

  The raspy laughter, which left Irving’s body through bloody lips, had clawed its way up from The Third Realm. It was the last sound Jeddy heard, apart from his own screams, as he was eaten alive.

  The creature fed, then waited. It was the first of the colony; the others would be here soon. His mind linked to the others, and he felt their joy at his hunt. He curled his newly acquired human body into a ball and slept. Tonight he would loose himself on the world, what an honour to be the first. He would have his pick of the humans, and knew he would be the catalyst for the fear of millions, once rumours spread. He rasped another laugh. When he slept, he dreamed of the bloody atrocities he would enjoy.

  ***

  What The Circle had feared and anticipated had begun. Agmunsten sensed a new evil on Talia and wept, for he knew what it signified. He said a prayer for whoever had died to facilitate the arrival of the Gormons. He prayed for Talia too; he knew their preparations were incomplete and they needed more time. Agmunsten wondered how the most powerful realmist on earth could feel as helpless as the smallest mouse. He shook his head and grabbed a bottle of his best brandy. Peaceful oblivion couldn’t come soon enough.

  14

  Muted, midday light intruded through Agmunsten’s eyelids. He gingerly opened his eyes, managing only a tight squint. Light found its way through his eyelashes and the small slits he had created, which was enough to accentuate his alcohol-induced headache. He had drunk himself into unconsciousness and found he was still slumped in his chair. He remembered the reason for his inebriation and was tempted to reach for another bottle.

  The aches and pains in his stiff back were relatively minor to the queasy feeling rumbling around what was left of his stomach. He would have shaken his head at his youth-like stupidity, but was wary of making any sudden movements.

  Focusing his will inward, pushing through the headache, he mentally called his apprentice. Within minutes a young boy appeared carrying a tray. Mouth-watering aromas of fresh-baked bread, greasy bacon, and fried eggs filled Agmunsten’s nose, and even though he felt queasy, his stomach managed a grumble.

  Arie was only twelve but had seen enough of the world to know his master had drunk too much, yet again. He shivered in the chill, a result of the fire having died hours ago. “It’s cold in here, although I wouldn’t want to light the fire again.”

  “Why would that be, lad?” Agmunsten mumbled through a mouthful of bacon.

  “The fumes coming out of your body might cause an explosion.” He laughed at the scowl he received in reply. Instead of tending the fire, Arie opened the large, arched window next to an ornately carved timber bed, unoccupied the previous night, the white covers unwrinkled. A steady, cool breeze streamed into the room, pushing out the boozy odour.

  “Arie, prepare our belongings. We’re going on a trip.” His apprentice nodded and left the room to gather what they would need. Agmunsten felt better with every oily bite. He finished his breakfast, or was it lunch, and went to the bath house to clean up.

  By late afternoon, the master and his young apprentice were
eating an early, hot dinner. Agmunsten felt restless and didn’t want to spend another night at the Realmist Academy for Superior Learning. He helped run the Academy, however there were times, such as now, he left it to others. From time to time he had other pressing matters to deal with, as only the most experienced of all the realmists could have. This threat to their world, and indeed ultimately to other worlds, was definitely what he would classify as a pressing matter—or maybe depressing. He smiled in spite of himself. He felt it was always important to maintain a sense of humour, not that others always appreciated what he found amusing.

  The weak winter sun was retreating for another night to the west. The two Academy members mounted their horses. Agmunsten knew the intelligence of animals and treated them with respect, but wouldn’t go so far as to stop eating them. He had bonded an animal when he was young, a rather obscure one. He had never told anyone about his creatura and knew the other realmists thought it odd that he didn’t have one.

  An uneasy peace had blanketed Talia over the past thousand years, and since Agmunsten was busy with people all the time, he had no desire to share his life with a constant creatura companion. It was because of this that Agmunsten had not had contact with his creatura for at least 200 years. He knew the animal was alive somewhere—he had a general feeling due to the mind bond, but he never intruded. It seemed to suit both of them. He knew if he ever needed him he would be there, so in the meantime, he let the animal enjoy as normal a life as possible.

  Agmunsten’s slight enthusiasm at going into the world again was heightened by Arie’s obvious excitement. The boy had lived his first ten years in a local fishing village two days’ ride from the Academy. He had spent his next two years learning anything and everything the Academy had to teach him. Agmunsten had been quick to notice the boy’s genius and aptitude for delving—the word realmists used to describe their form of acting with power drawn from the Second Realm. The boy also made a good assistant. He always did what he was told, if he thought it was the best way to do it, but also had the initiative to know when he had worked out a better way. Surprisingly, Agmunsten had learned a few things too, but there had inevitably been more than a few arguments—that sometimes became an amusing game.

  Agmunsten enjoyed looking at the world through the boy’s eyes. After too many years on the planet, not many things were exciting anymore. The old man had been to too many places too many times and had seen multiple lifetimes of triumphs and tragedies to be surprised or inspired by much. That was the downside of living a protracted life. Watching Arie’s pleasure and exhilaration as he discovered his way through life helped Agmunsten remember what it was like to feel that way.

  A few of the students and teachers came to wave them off and wish them luck, although no one knew what for. Agmunsten had kept the bad news to himself, lest he start a full-blown panic among the Academy’s population and eventually into the surrounding countryside. His first port of call was to Bayerlon, and King Edmund. The news he carried was too sensitive to send a messenger. He had warned Hermas by mind message that he was coming. It was a rare occurrence, but some realmists had discovered how to eavesdrop on mind communications, especially those over long distances. Being aware of this, Agmunsten had kept his message brief.

  As they exited the huge iron gates, the noises in the courtyard faded. The horses’ hooves rang out loudly on the cobbled road. Agmunsten smiled; it was good to smell fresh air and to have an open road ahead. Soon, billions of stars would shimmer above and a near-full moon would light their path. Agmunsten knew this was the calm before the proverbial storm, and he would enjoy every peaceful minute. He looked over at Arie and saw a hint of a smile and knew that if nothing else, their first night on the road would be a good one.

  The duo slept in the open, under the gaze of uncaring stars, rolled up in blankets in front of a lively fire. They rose early the next morning, in time to bid some of their starry companions goodbye. Arie was a competent horseman and let his eyes wander over the surrounding vista as they rode. Acre after acre of farmland led away from the Academy. Sheep and cattle grazed, the occasional chicken crossed their path, and every once in a while a farmer, tending his fields, would wave. Arie smiled at the animals, deftly avoided the wandering chickens, and waved enthusiastically at every farmer. Agmunsten observed and enjoyed.

  Their journey to Bayerlon took one week. They slept by the roadside. If they had veered off into every town along the way to slumber in comfortable beds, they would have added at least a couple of days to their trip. Right now, time was of the essence. Agmunsten had been trying to avoid thinking about what was happening on the other side of the world, but now that Bayerlon loomed ahead, it became impossible. He readied himself. His words to the king would have to be chosen carefully so as to impart the urgency of the matter without revealing the horror of it. The king was not a rash man, but who really knew what he would do when faced with the possibility of the bloody annihilation of his country and all the people in it?

  “Bayerlon is magnificent. Wow, look. It’s huge.” Arie stared at the impressive castle. “Are we really going to see the king?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he nice?”

  “Is he nice? Well, if you’re a friend he’s nice, but he can be a ruthless man, which is a necessary trait in a king.” Arie wrinkled his brow. “Don’t worry, lad, he’ll be nice to us. We’ve known each other since before he was your age.” Agmunsten chuckled. “In fact, he used to be scared of me.”

  “Why would he be scared of you? You’re just an old man.” Agmunsten gave Arie the mouth-open, offended expression the boy was looking for. Arie laughed.

  They entered the city gates and Agmunsten took hold of Arie’s reins. “I would hate to lose you in this crowd.” Arie sighed at the suggestion he couldn’t take care of himself.

  “Can we have a look around? There’s so much to see.” Arie was trying to look everywhere at once.

  “Not today. We have more urgent things to take care of.” The young apprentice didn’t try to hide his disappointment and scowled at Agmunsten’s back on the walk up to the castle.

  Even though he couldn’t get off his horse to explore, there were still many things to see. By the time they reached the castle walls, in front of which stood a full compliment of stiff-backed guards in regal blue attire, Arie had forgotten his scowl. He dismounted when Agmunsten did, and stood staring up at the imposing uniformed men.

  Agmunsten approached the captain. “I’m here to see King Edmund.”

  “Name?”

  “Agmunsten, Master Realmist and Principal of the Realmist Academy for Superior Learning. I am here on an urgent matter and wish to be presented to His Highness, posthaste.”

  “Just a moment, sir.” The Captain spoke a few words to an errand boy at the guardhouse, who dashed off to confirm the king was indeed waiting upon such a person.

  Agmunsten tried to maintain his calm exterior but was annoyed at being treated like a common salesperson. How dare they question his identity? He felt enormous frustration at his lack of authority, at times, in the world outside the Academy. It was moments like this he had to remind himself that it was the realmists themselves who had tried to cultivate a non-threatening attitude. They didn’t want the general population fearing what they were capable of and attacking them. They had so successfully created an image that what they did was little more than making a few healing potions and tricks of the eye using sleight of hand, that some people not only didn’t fear them, but had no respect for them whatsoever. “But it seemed like such a good idea at the time.” Agmunsten’s shoulders drooped.

  “What seemed like a good idea?”

  “Nothing, Arie, just talking to myself.”

  “So what else is new?”

  Agmunsten’s shoulders fell a little further.

  Soon the errand boy returned, and the captain led them through to large oak doors, which gave entry to the vast foyer of Bayerlon’s castle. Once inside they were handed over to the
steward. The balding man with a superior attitude said nothing as he led them through one ornately decorated corridor after another. Every once in a while he would look behind and down his nose at them, making sure they were not touching anything.

  Arie wondered at the unashamed display of wealth in the hand-woven rugs covering the stone floors, to the tapestry wall-hangings exhibited in gilded frames. Ornately carved tables and plinths lined the walls, each displaying a priceless vase or statue. Arie couldn’t believe this many treasures existed in the whole world, let alone in one building. At his mother’s house their only wealth was contained in the two fishing boats his father owned and one rug, which took pride of place on the floor in the living room. The rug was faded and worn, having been handed down through his mother’s family for three generations.

  He thought about the Academy, with its spare white-washed walls and stark classrooms. The room he shared with two other boys had sea-grass matting on the floor and thin sheets on the beds. He had to admit the blankets were warm and of good quality, having been made from local wool, which was some of the best in all of Talia. He realised he didn’t actually miss the Academy. He had thought he would. He still missed his home, although he’d had plenty of opportunity to return and see his family.

  The silent servant halted in front of a well-guarded set of heavy, timber doors. The stone frame was ornately carved, but the timber was plain, polished as smooth as river stone. The guards consulted with baldy, who grasped an iron handle and led them through one of the doors. He motioned them to stand just inside the door and wait.

  The immaculately dressed servant strode to the middle of the room and announced their arrival. “King Edmund, I present to you Agmunsten and his servant boy.” Arie was even more enraged than Agmunsten had been at his insulting treatment at the castle gates.