by Aaron Bunce
Something snapped in the darkness, and Dennah jumped back. She told herself that it was just wind shifting a tree branch, but her heart started to race. She backed away, moving towards the wagon, but something caught her eye. Just down the tree line, barely a stone’s throw away, several large elk emerged. The larger of the two was a magnificent creature, with high, muscular shoulders and a sprawling rack.
The elk walked into the clearing, moving through the firelight and past the wagons. Then more elk of every size, shape, and color appeared behind them. Their number was beyond count, and to her amazement, in-between the large animals scurried all manner of smaller creatures.
She watched badger, woodchuck, beaver, and fox step through the trees all around her. They came from everywhere. Some walked so close to her that she could have reached out and touched them. Dennah’s heart beat faster and faster, and her hands started to shake at her sides, but she did not dare move for not twenty paces away a large shiny scaled animal slunk from between two trees.
The animal was large, larger than any dog she had seen and perhaps four times her weight, yet it moved with all the grace and stealth of a mountain lion. It stopped and turned, regarding her with eyes that shone eerie red in the flickering firelight. Its jaws cracked, and it issued a low reptilian hiss. Dennah could clearly see several rows of wickedly sharp teeth.
She had only heard stories of drakin before but never imagined seeing one. The drakin seemed to be at ease with the animals that scurried all around it, most of which would have been easy prey.
The drakin bounded off silently into the darkness, in the same direction as the rest of the animals. As quickly as they had appeared, the horde of animals was gone. The camp became still once again, the only noise that of the whistling wind and the creaking trees.
Dennah remained still for some time. Her eyes moved from tree to tree along the edge of the clearing, watching to see if anything else would emerge. Finally, she broke herself free, and started back nervously towards the far side of the camp, and Tadd’s wagon.
She wanted desperately to wake someone, to tell them about what she had just witnessed. She didn’t want to be alone. Despite the warmth of the bonfire, Dennah started to shiver.
Dennah paused before the fire and warmed her hands for a moment before turning to wake Tadd. She desperately needed his calming presence, plus his seemingly endless experience might help her understand what she had just seen.
The wagon above her rocked from side to side. Dennah looked up and recoiled, almost stepping back into the fire. She stood face to face with a large wolf. The gray hunter rested one paw on the side rail of the wagon closest to her. Its eyes locked onto her, and its ears perked.
Dennah’s hand instantly dropped to her sword, but a low growl from the wolf froze her in place. She eased the hand away, and the wolf went silent again.
Tadd snored softly at her feet, completely unaware of the danger standing just above him. Can I rouse him before it attacks?
Her thoughts raced. She calculated the distance between herself and the wolf and wondered how fast she could draw her sword and bring it to bear.
The wolf, despite her expectation, didn’t attack. Nor did it show any obvious signs of aggression, in fact, it sat down. The wolf cocked its head from side to side. It sat for a moment longer before turning and jumping off the other side of the wagon.
Dennah pulled her sword free. The soft leather against her palm and weight of the blade steadied her nerves a bit as she cautiously walked around the wagon.
She poked her head around the wagon only to find the animal standing a short distance away. Moreover, it wasn’t alone. A dozen eyes glowed in the darkness.
Are these wolves the reason all the animals are fleeing? Part of her didn’t think so.
Dennah hung back behind the wagon. She considered the large group of hunters and her sword suddenly felt insignificant in her hand. The large gray wolf from the wagon took several steps towards her and whined. The wolf whined again and turned to trot away, before looking back at her and growling quietly.
The wolf continued to whine, turning on the spot as if pleading her to follow. Finally, after she did not move, it turned and padded off, disappearing into the darkness with the others.
Dennah took a step back, unable to turn away from the darkness. None of made any sense. She walked back through the wagons and stoked the fire until its flames roared high into the sky.
She returned to the wagon bench, deciding against waking Tadd or Folkvar. She didn’t know what she would tell them if she did.
They’d think I’ve gone mad.
Dennah sat rigidly on the wagon’s bench for a long while before realizing she was still clutching her sword. Her hand ached even after returning it to its scabbard.
She refused to close her eyes, save to blink for the rest of her watch. When voices sounded out of the darkness, she knew that Bull and the others were returning. She roused one of the other guards, unwilling to face Banus again. She had to kick him repeatedly before he rolled over and got up. Dennah left the camp at a brisk walk, which turned into a run once she left the comforting glow of the bonfire.
The tavern was still open, but Bale was nowhere to be seen. She found a silver-haired, strong-faced woman firmly tending to the remaining drunks.
“Is the room still available?” Dennah asked hopefully.
“Aye. Bale mentioned that you’d stopped in. It’s yours if you want it. Twenty copper a night is the rate,” Bale’s mother, Marna replied.
Dennah couldn’t hide her relief. She fished the coins out and dropped them onto the bar.
“Straight to business, I like that. It’s right back there, up the stairs and on the left. Here’s the key,” Marna replied and dropped a key into her hand.
Dennah paid for a bowl of stew and chunk of bread and went straight to her room, where she securely locked the door behind her.
* * * *
He hovered in the shadows, his body completely covered in grime. He was so dirty that when he remained still he barely stood out from the forest around him.
His work in the woods had kept him away from the farm. But when he finally returned, he found armed men carrying torches. He could smell them on the breeze. But he could feel them as well. He eyed them hungrily but refused to reveal himself. Without his full strength, he had to be cautious. After all, arrogance had ruined him before.
By the time the invaders left, the moon had grown old and drifted behind the clouds. He broke from cover in utter darkness, but to him it was as clear and bright as mid-day. The body of the female he had left in the field was gone.
It’s of no consequence. But the barn was open, and the little one was gone.
Only his surprise outweighed his anger. The magic used to bind the child’s mind to the structure was strong, stronger than any chain. Somehow, someone had broken her free. They stole his child.
It wasn’t the soldiers; he would have seen them. He would have noticed. As he stalked through the abandoned farm, he noticed something peculiar left behind. It wasn’t the sea of footprints smashed into the grass and mud, or the rich odor of horse manure from the men’s animals. It was something else. To DaeGeroth, it was far more significant.
Small effervescent droplets of glowing light hovered in the air. The strange wisps of energy coalesced, forming a trail hovering just above the ground. It stood out like an ink route on a map, and would lead him to wherever the perpetrator had gone.
DaeGeroth had seen wraiths leave similar trails upon the physical world. Such spirits were angry and confused apparitions, ones that could not control their convergences from plane to plane. They were harbingers of suffering and woe, attracted to places of death.
DaeGeroth had even manipulated such beings before. But that was eons ago, when his power allowed him to stretch the membrane between worlds.
Could this trail be from such a spirit? If so, how did it take the girl? Was it powerful enough to manipulate or even break the bo
nds I used to restrain her?
Questions piled up, and for the first time in a millennium, DaeGeroth was intrigued. He set off through the trees, his strange knobby appendages hardly ideal. He cursed the limitations of his vessel.
Strength will return. It will only take time, he reminded himself.
DaeGeroth couldn’t piece together his memories from the time before his painful rebirth. Images and sensations came to him unhindered. Some were of a vast nothingness, a fierce pull, or a blinding light. Somehow, through more luck than power of will, part of him had emerged from the silted waterways of the frigid underground.
Unable to decipher the passage of time, DaeGeroth settled to the bottom of a muddy pool. His soul torn from his physical body…rendered down into something barely alive. He waited, almost indistinguishable from the wretched mud all around him.
He felt the creatures approach to feed on the water all around him. The energy coursing in their bodies was tangible, and he remembered the strong urges to feed. But they were too large and strong. It was only when the tall, pale one approached that DaeGeroth decided to take action. With great difficulty he had subdued the man, wrestled his life away, and stole his body.
Nestled in the man’s body, with the vital energy of the woman in the blue apron coursing through him, DaeGeroth became aware of distant voices. He knew then that he was not alone, that somewhere out there, his kind was reawakening.
DaeGeroth left his host’s two young offspring working in the forest. Their will was slaved to him. Every thought tied to him like a rope braided from their emotions and urges.
Much of the spectral trail had dispersed, but his gaze broke through the barriers of light, dark, and the grays in between, allowing him to see just enough of it to follow.
DaeGeroth approached the settlement, hovering in the trees to watch from a distance. It took him no time to locate the building in which they were keeping the girl, for it was aglow in the strange spectral particles. Soldiers with torches in hand swarmed the town. They inspired no fear in him, but he also couldn’t afford to attract unnecessary attention.
He turned to return to the farm, but froze, noticing another of the spectral trails heading off in another direction. This trail was older than the first, and barely visible. Even with DaeGeroth’s magical eyesight he could barely see it.
It took time, stretching a fair distance into the countryside. But his dedication paid off, and as he broke through a tree line, a single dwelling came into view.
The home was small and dark. It appeared to be asleep. The door was barred shut by a simple but sturdy lock. DaeGeroth initially thought the house was a derelict. Such places attracted the lingering spirits. As he drew close he realized that someone had gone to the trouble of repairing and tidying up the small house.
He needed answers and hoped to find them within. What manner of creature pulled the girl away from the barn? How did it break his binding? Had men learned to harness magical energy? DaeGeroth realized he had to handle them with more care from now on.
Was this the home of a caster or a sorcerer of some kind? The prospect stirred excitement within him, the kind he had not felt in a very long time.
With a final look around, DaeGeroth pushed on the door. The hardwood stirred under his hand. Fibers stretched and then finally broke. With a loud crack, the lock gave in, and the door swung open. DaeGeroth stepped inside, eager to learn its secrets.
Chapter 13
A touch of the divine
“I was hoping you would come,” she said with a smile.
The words bounced around like rocks in Julian’s head before he was finally able to respond.
“My eye,” he managed, “not much use to me how it is now.”
The young cleric smiled and stood. She beckoned for him to follow and walked back out into the sanctuary. She led him past the statue and through a door and into a private room. Julian entered and sat on the single padded bench. The young woman entered behind him and pulled a curtain closed.
“I didn’t have a chance to thank you earlier, for looking after me,” Julian said as she came around to stand over him. She gently cradled his head and examined the claw marks on his face, and then peeled back the lid of his injured eye.
“You need not thank me. It is my place to see after the needy. It is my oath,” she said simply. “How much can you see out of it?”
“Shadows, blurry shadows mostly,” Julian said.
“I told father Jorna I would tend to you myself,” she said with a self-conscious smile. “But before I begin, you should know. You will most likely still have scars when I am finished. But I will do everything I can.”
“I can live with scars,” Julian said, but then added, “I almost didn’t come,”
“At first I thought that you wouldn’t. I am pleased that you did, though,” she said with a sheepish smile.
Neither of them spoke for a moment until Julian looked down and noticed that her hand had come to rest atop his.
“I should get started,” she said blushing and pulling her hand away. Rolling up her sleeves, the cleric placed her hands on both sides of his face. Her skin was warm and soft against his.
“My name is Tanea by the way,” she said, pulling her hands away.
“Julian. It’s nice to meet you, Tanea,” Julian said, unable to suppress a smile.
“Mani hear my prayer. I beseech you for grace, let flow your healing love through me, that I may mend the ill’s and wounds of this young man,” Tanea started, placing her hands back over his face.
Julian felt a gentle tickle where her skin touched his. He felt it before she even began her prayer. What it was didn’t seem to matter once she started to speak.
Tanea’s prayers faded into an almost inaudible chant. Julian wanted to look at her face. To trace the soft lines of her jaw, or the pleasant pout on her lips, but all he could see was darkness.
Her hands grew warm, and the skin on his face started to crawl and itch beneath her touch. Every cut and scrape on his face burned. He longed to scratch, rub, or blink, but dared not move.
A shimmer formed in the darkness and with it a vibration in his chest. The heat continued to build until his face felt like it was on fire. When Julian thought that he could take it no longer, it started to fade.
His skin continued to tingle, but as the heat faded, he once again became aware of the tactile contact of her skin against his. He could still feel the strange humming in his chest, but it felt stronger. Images started to appear in his bad eye. The murky, indistinct shapes started to clarify, despite the fact that her hands still covered his face. His skin continued to tingle. It permeated his skull and leeched deep into his eye.
He could see her, but he could feel her hands upon him as well. He could still hear her voice, although her lips no longer moved. The vision in his eye brightened suddenly, and much of the blur that plagued him was gone.
Tanea’s face started to glow, radiating a brilliant energy. The humming within him grew even stronger, and Julian heard Tanea’s breathing become labored.
Julian was blinded by the brilliant light, and could see little more than the outline of Tanea’s face. He heard her speak, yet her voice sounded different. His heart began to race, pounding violently in his chest as a wave of energy rushed into him from Tanea’s hands.
Julian felt his body come alive as the energy rippled inside him from head to toe, and then it was gone. The brilliant light faded, leaving the small room impossibly dark without it.
Tanea slowly pulled away, her hands trembling as Julian opened his eyes. He wanted to extend that moment, to hold on to that electric sensation as life permeated through his body.
It did not go away completely as he feared. The warm resonance deep within him remained, pulsing gently. It felt as if Julian had two hearts beating in his chest, the familiar cadence of his own, joined by the unfamiliar rhythm of another.
In the silent moments that followed, Julian stared into Tanea’s eyes. She didn’t spea
k or turn away. He noticed every vivid color that comprised her large hazel eyes, the specks of red in her hair, and the light freckles dotting her nose. She didn’t feel like a stranger to Julian anymore. In ways that he couldn’t quite explain he felt more connected to her than he had with anyone in his entire life.
Am I feeling some afterglow of Tanea’s divine magic? Truthfully, Julian didn’t know, and deep down inside he wasn’t sure that he needed to. All that mattered to him at that moment was to find out if what he felt was real.
He raised his hand instinctively, to see if his ruined face had been saved, but Tanea reached out and took his hand in hers. Without a word, she leaned forward and put her hand on his chest, directly over his heart. She left it there for several long moments, not speaking, not even blinking as she looked into his eyes.
“I don’t believe it,” she whispered at last.
“Believe what?” Julian croaked. His throat had grown dry and he struggled to get the words out. Tanea grasped his hand in hers and pressed the palm of his hand over her left breast, and then held it there.
“Do you feel it? Tell me you can feel it,” she asked quietly.
Julian struggled for a moment, unsure of what exactly she wanted him to feel, but then it struck him, and he closed his eyes, focusing on the rhythmic pulse deep inside. Every beat within him matched the strong cadence of Tanea’s heart. As one slowed or sped up, so did the other. Julian pulled his hand away. He could feel the very beating of her heart within him.
“I can feel…your heart. How is this possible?” he stammered.
Tanea nodded before he even finished the question. His mind spun, searching for answers. Did something go wrong? What does it mean?
“It is supposed to be a legend. We have never seen it happen. There are writings about it in the tomes of the Olefather, from the earliest days of Denoril himself, but…” Tanea trailed off, searching for the words.
