Seer of Shadows

by Cleave Bourbon

  “The Jagged Mountains, a village called Brookhaven.”

  “All of them?”

  “I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out.”

  Sylvalora sat back in her seat and slouched, “Well, I’ll certainly be keeping my eye on you. I think your plan is viable, but it relies on a lot of speculation and assumption.”

  “You should trust me more, I think.”

  Sylvalora smiled and closed her eyes.

  Chapter 5: Defender Patrol

  Shey could see the bleak, barren plains and dead forests of The Blight appearing in the distance. Low grey clouds began to accumulate the closer she traveled toward the border villages. Small dwellings were scattered along the edge of the devastated terrain, many in disrepair. Shey felt the familiar oppression, and a general feeling of despair, which always pervaded her psyche when in proximity to the dead land, as the edges of the Blight drew closer. She tried to remember the names of the border villages, but she couldn’t recall many of them. They changed and shifted populations and names too many times over the years. The road became rough from mud hardening into ruts. The coach lurched and bounded. She was about to tell Rodraq to take it easy when she felt the coach begin to slow.

  Sylvalora slept opposite her. She was stretched out across the whole of the coach bench. Shey wondered briefly how the elvish woman could sleep during such a rocky and jolting ride.

  “My lady,” Rodraq called down from the driver’s seat. “We are approaching a group of men on the side of the road. They appear to have injured among them, but I can’t be sure from this distance.”

  “What colors do they display?”

  “White, gold, and red, if I am seeing them correctly.”

  “Defenders’ colors. Most likely a patrol,” Shey said.

  “This far from The Blight, my lady?”

  “We’re not that far from the villages. If they have injured men, they may have moved away from the borders to tend to them.”

  “My lady?”

  “Defenders have healers, and they can’t use healing magic in the Blight. Stop beside them. Sylvalora and I wish to talk to them.”

  “Aye, my lady,” Rodraq said. When they moved closer to the men, he reined the coach to a stop and hurried down from the driver’s seat. He lowered the steps and opened the coach door for Lady Shey.

  Shey carefully approached the Defenders. They did have wounded with them. “I am Lady Shey from Lux Enor. Who is in charge here?”

  A fierce Defender stood up and brushed off his uniform. His features were chiseled and seasoned, his face wind-bitten. “Our commander was killed near the border villages. I am Juran, the senior-most officer.”

  “I bid you greetings, Juran. We mean to travel through the border villages. What news do you have of the place?”

  “If any other but you asked me, I would turn them away quick as a wink and send them back to where they came. The border villages are being evacuated as we speak. The Blight is giving up her dead from the War of the Oracle. It isn’t safe. It puzzles me how the dead from a war fought so long ago on this soil could suddenly return from the shadows, but I have seen it, my lady, I have seen the dead rise and roam.”

  “I do not doubt you.”

  “Have you come to perform some sort of magic and put them back where they bloody well belong?”

  Shey sighed, “I wish I could say yes, but I am here for a different reason. I am aware of the trouble here, and I assure you I will do what I can.” She tried to make her voice as sympathetic as possible. “I am passing through on my way to Old Symbor.”

  “Old Symbor, well then, I might warn you not to travel through the villages.”

  “Oh, and why is that?”

  “A wielder of your renown might find it interesting to know that there is a rumor of a young boy in one of the border villages who is keeping the walking dead at bay. They say he has the sight of the Oracle himself.”

  “A seer?”

  “As I hear it, my lady.”

  “I take it you know who I am?”

  “Aye, Lady Shey. You are well known amongst the Defenders of The Blight. I knew who you were the minute you said your name.”

  “Very well, Juran. In which village is this young seer rumored to reside?”

  “The village of Valwall, my lady.” He swallowed hard, “My lady, you aren’t thinking of going there and seeking this boy out? I am trying to warn you off.”

  “It may be important, Juran, and you asked if I were here to help. I would say it would be my duty to investigate this boy, wouldn’t you?”

  “What is your plan? If he is the cause of all this, he must be a demon. How will you halt the demon’s power to force the dead to the surface?”

  Lady Shey peered down the road to the Blight, “It isn’t demons. The blight was stripped of its magic by overuse of essence. The mistake was burying the dead there. You said the boy is a seer and holding the dead at bay. He isn’t the cause of the dead rising, but he might be just as dangerous.”

  “My lady?”

  “The Blight is rejuvenating its power. Like when you burn a dead field of grass, and it comes back green and vibrant. It just took a lot of years for the Blight to make its comeback. The dead buried there are being animated by the process, or so I’ve been told. The Seer might be a product of the Oracle, the one who caused the war in the first place. The seer might be a rejuvenation of the Oracle’s power.”

  “Aye, I believe the magic is coming back, but the dead rising has nothing to do with the magic returning, you are mistaken.”

  “Oh, do you know something I don’t?”

  “Rumor is that a man came using the old ways of the necromancer. He wielded Interminis, the sword of the dead! He thrust the fell blade into the heart of the Blight, and the dead came. It is the power from the underworld! It is demons, my lady!”

  “Interminis? I thought that sword was only a legend, like the dragon sword. I forget what it’s called.”

  “What else but the sword of death could have raised the dead? Are there necromancers roaming once more?”

  She could see the soldier was truly scared, “We will look into all possibilities, but for now do not go about spreading these rumors; they are only rumors, after all, unless you have proof?”

  The soldier nodded his head.

  “If the boy is holding off the dead, he is something else. Try not to spread more panic than we already have. I need you to keep the news, or rumors, of this boy quiet until I have a chance to investigate. Can you do that for me?”

  “Aye, my lady.”

  “Good.”

  Shey thanked the soldier and returned to her coach. She peered up at her driver, “Get us to Valwall, Rodraq.”

  “Aye, my lady.” He jumped down to raise the steps after Shey entered the coach.

  She sat down and eyed Sylvalora, who stared back at her grimly from the opposite seat. Sylvalora’s grim expression changed to concern. “The Oracle reborn?”

  The coach moved forward.

  “I certainly hope not. Could the renewal of The Blight also bring back the Oracle?”

  “Who knows? This is the first time anyone has ever seen such a place as The Blight regenerate. If the Oracle foresaw that he would be reborn, it would explain his disappearance during the War. The ranks of wielders have all but been wiped out due to the law against magic. Mindwielders are almost nonexistent. It would be a superb time for him to come back. There is almost no one left to oppose him.”

  “There is, but it’s a long shot at best. After we investigate this child seer, we will need to continue to the White Tower in Old Symbor. I remember my friend Marella and I came across some old books of prophecy in the archives when we were girls.”

  “Prophecy! Merely fairy tales and fiction,” Sylvalora scoffed. “I doubt those books have anything of use in them.”

  “Perhaps not, but it’s not the prophecies I am concerned about. I want to look up the legends of the Smiths. There were some important named sword
s forged in antiquity. I remember reading about them in those dusty old books, and I think Interminis was one of them.”

  “The sword of the dead?” Sylvalora said, “It’s only a legend. I don’t remember it being used in the War of the Oracle. The wielder could have raised the dead to fight, and none of that happened.”

  “What else do you know about it?”

  “No more than you.”

  “There is also Toborne’s old laboratory chambers beneath the tower. He was fond of collecting stories and prophecies. He may have left something behind in his private library. He collected the ramblings of the seers of old and some of the Oracle himself.”

  “I don’t know Shey,” She said. “Those books would have to be magically sealed to have survived this long. I know Enowene protects the tower archives, but who protects Toborne’s books?”

  “I suppose we will find out,” Shey answered. “You’re right; they may all be dust by now. I still want to go down there and take a look around.”

  “You can try, but I think it’s a waste of time.”

  “It’s worth a shot.” She was annoyed at Sylvalora’s pessimism, “Weren’t you sleeping!”

  Sylvalora smirked and nodded, lying back on the cushions, “Wake me up when we get there.”

  The first of the border villages did not appear out of the ordinary until Lady Shey’s coach entered the wooden gates. The people scrambling about were not going about their daily tasks but were instead preparing to leave. Wagons were piled high with belongings, and families packed themselves into the fold of the wagons wherever they could. The streets were in chaos, with men directing their wagons around others that were stalled for one reason or another. Shey ordered Rodraq to continue through the village without stopping. She and Sylvalora already knew why the villagers were leaving.

  “What are we getting ourselves into?” Lady Shey asked Sylvalora. “It’s worse than I thought.”

  “Yet, it could be worse,” Sylvalora said. “As chaotic as it seems, at least no is no one is getting trampled.”

  “I take little consolation in that,” Shey said.

  “We will need to push onward. Once we get deep into The Blight, I’m sure we can find the cause of the danger and stop it. If we are lucky, maybe we can avoid trouble altogether.”

  “Aye, I will keep telling myself that.”

  Sylvalora breathed a sigh, “Try to remain positive, dear.”

  “There’s positive, and then there’s insane blindness to the facts.”

  “Oh, and which one are you subscribing to right now?”

  Lady Shey ignored the questioning comment, “The next village is situated directly on the border. Do you think we should avoid it and go around?”

  Sylvalora glanced out the coach’s window at some of the villagers scrambling to leave. “It’s difficult to say. We would have to leave the coach and travel on horseback if we did. I think for now we should travel the road and hope for the best. We don’t know what we’re going to meet out there, whether it be by road or traveling in the wild.”

  Shey nodded, “That’s thinking positive.”

  Sylvalora gave her an icy stare.

  Shey lowered the small window on the coach door. “Rodraq, continue on the road to the next village.”

  “Aye, my lady. You do realize the next village is Valwall, do you not?”

  “Understood. Yes, take us to Valwall.” Shey sat back in her seat, “I hope you’re right, and this isn’t as bad as it seems.”

  Sylvalora looked away, absently peering out the window, “I try to remain positive. No matter how bad things get, they can always be worse.”

  Chapter 6: Valwall

  When the coach came within sight of the village of Valwall, Rodraq commanded the horses to halt. Shey heard him set the brake and climb down. The coach door opened, and Rodraq lowered the steps. “You might want to see this,” he said.

  Shey stepped out of the coach and helped Sylvalora down. They peered into the distance at the medium-sized village. Even though the sun had not yet set, the village was surrounded by the abominations of unlife. The dead of the battles and atrocities of the War of the Oracle had risen, and they walked, hovered, and floated around the perimeter of Valwall.

  “Are they looking to get in or is something holding them back and keeping them out?” Shey asked.

  Sylvalora squinted to get a clearer look. “I would say something is keeping them out.”

  “Something in that village is attracting them,” Rodraq said, “something they are trying to get at.”

  “Which means we should be able to ride past them and enter the village unmolested. But, just to be safe, wait until there is a break in the line around the entrance and then drive the coach through,” Shey suggested. “That way if the abominations do come after us, they will not be able to follow us into the village.”

  “A wise plan,” Rodraq agreed.

  “Let’s get in there and find this seer boy. I have a feeling he is both the source of the attraction and the force keeping those things at bay,” Sylvalora said as she stepped back into the coach.

  Shey pulled up the hem of her dress and stepped onto the first step. “Drive on, Rodraq. Be as cautious as you can.”

  “Aye, my lady. I will see us safely through the gates.”

  As Lady Shey had commanded, Rodraq waited at a distance from the gates until there was a break in the line before taking them forward into the village. Once they had passed the gates, they were safe. The creatures surrounding the city could not enter. Lady Shey changed from her dress into breeches and climbed up the outside of the coach to join Rodraq in the driver’s seat. The village seemed abandoned as they traveled its dirt and cobblestone streets. Most of the buildings were in disrepair and appeared to have been assaulted of late. Windows were broken, and doors were torn from their hinges.

  “Go to the village square, Rodraq. The people might have relocated to a central, defensible location,” Lady Shey suggested.

  Rodraq complied and took the coach down what he thought might be the quickest path to the middle of the village. “The sun is on its way home,” he pointed out. “We will be here, stuck in the dark.”

  “As long as the abominations stay outside, I am not too worried about spending the night here.”

  The coach rounded the final corner and entered the village square. At the center, sprawled out and tied to scaffolding was a young, blond-headed boy of about ten seasons. Strewn out around on the ground before him were the villagers. They appeared from Lady Shey’s angle to all be dead, save for the boy who was moaning.

  Rodraq reined in the horses. “What in the name of evil happened here!”

  Lady Shey climbed from the coach and went to the nearest villager. She put her ear close to the woman’s mouth and listened. “She’s not dead. I hear her breathing.” She moved to the next man and found the same. “They are not dead . . . yet. Rodraq, check the others while I see about the boy.”

  The big man set the brake and climbed down from the coach. He went to the closest villager and began turning over bodies, checking for signs of life.

  Sylvalora followed Shey to the boy. “Don’t take him down yet. We need to find out what happened here first.”

  “I will not leave a boy hanging up like a scarecrow in a field!”

  “Leave him, Shey! Now you listen to me this time. We don’t know what is happening here.”

  “I know they are abusing this child!” Shey reached up and severed the rope holding him with one of the daggers she carried. He slumped down into her arms, and she helped him lie down on the wooden platform.

  Sylvalora stood over Lady Shey’s shoulder. “A fool thing to do when we know so little.”

  Lady Shey ignored her.

  “My lady, this villager is conscious.” Rodraq was helping a young woman walk to where Shey tended to the boy.

  The girl looked at the boy and started clawing at Rodraq. “No, get me away from him. Put him back up where he belongs.” She was
terrified, and Rodraq let her go when she feebly tried to pull away from him. She took two steps and collapsed to the ground. Rodraq went to her aid.

  “Put him back where you found him,” Sylvalora said, expressionless.

  “I will not!” Lady Shey said.

  “The girl is dead,” Rodraq announced. “I think she may have been frightened to death.”

  Lady Shey looked up from the boy to see what Rodraq was talking about. The girl pushed herself up behind him. “She isn’t dead. She is standing up behind you.”

  Rodraq turned around. “Missy, I thought you stopped breathing.” He reached for her. She whirled around in a singular, fluid motion. She leaped at Rodraq, screeching. Her mouth opened wide, too wide. The sides of her mouth ripped, and blood ran down her chin as she gurgled and spat, trying to get at him. He reached for his sword, pushing her away with his free hand. He pulled his sword free and hacked the creature’s arm off as she reached for him again. He raised his sword above his head and brought it down at an angle, slicing through the former girl. Once she fell, he finished her off.

  Shey looked at the boy. He was moaning and moving his head side to side. “They are coming for me,” he whispered.

  “Prepare yourself, Rodraq,” Lady Shey said. “I think we unleashed the creatures outside the gates.”

  Sylvalora took the initiative and grabbed the boy. “Help me get him back up on the scaffolding.”

  Lady Shey reluctantly helped the elven woman put the boy back where she had found him. “This is so barbaric, Sylvalora. We are supposed to be civilized people.”

  “There is no civility among the dead, Sheyna, nor is there reason, compassion, or empathy.”

  The boy cringed as Sylvalora pulled the ropes tightly. Shey had to turn away. When she opened her eyes, the villagers were writhing around. She looked again at the boy. She felt essence moving around her.

  “He is drawing in essence!” Sylvalora said.

  “I think he is taking the life-force from the villagers!” Shey said.

  Sylvalora moved to take action. She held up her hands, and bolts of lightning came from her palms, striking the boy.