Seer of Shadows

by Cleave Bourbon

  Shey was horrified. “What are you doing? He is a boy!”

  Sylvalora let the lightning bolts fall. “Look.”

  Shey looked at the boy. He appeared unharmed. He was crying as if he didn’t know where he was. The villagers who were killed remained where they fell, while the villagers who still lived began to stand.

  “What did you do?” Shey asked Sylvalora as she went to let the boy down from the scaffolding again.

  “I must have jolted out whatever force was controlling him.”

  One of the village women approached. She recognized the boy Shey was trying to help. “Get away from him! What are you doing to my son?” She ran up to Shey and yanked her hands away from him.

  “He is the young seer is he not?” Shey asked.

  The woman took her son down and held him close. “Of course, he isn’t. He is innocent. The boys you seek were run out of town. They are rumored to be dead. There is a cabin about a mile into The Blight. If they live, the Defenders guard him there.”

  “Boys? There are more than one?”

  “Aye, they’re twins.” The woman said.

  “What has happened here?” Sylvalora asked.

  “We are all trying to leave. The dead from the wars of The Blight have been invading our village with evil. Our children take ill and are tortured. Some even have the nerve to call this land sacred! I spit at the word. The Blight is more forsaken than any land known to me.” She took her boy up in her arms. “If you know what is good for you, you will leave this cursed land!” She ran with her boy toward some of the dwellings.

  “Looks like we travel into The Blight, then,” Lady Shey said, “And go after these twins.”

  Sylvalora nodded. “Find where Rodraq has gotten off to; I will meet you at the coach.”

  Shey surveyed her surroundings. Where has Rodraq gone? She thought.

  Chapter 7: Shadow Fall

  A few moments later, Rodraq returned with the men from the front gate. He was covered in filth and sweat from battle. “We dispatched the invaders, my lady.” He said in between labored breaths. “The village is safe,” Rodraq said.

  One of the men with Rodraq sheathed his sword as he approached and extended his hand. “I am Youree, Reeve of Valwall. I don’t believe I have had the pleasure.”

  Rodraq stepped in front of Shey and blocked her from the reeve’s access facing the reeve with sword out but pointed downward. “This is Lady Shey of Lux Enor. How dare you speak to her so. You may direct your pleasantries to me.”

  “Oh, step aside, Rodraq. I have nothing to fear here.” Shey stepped around the big man and extended her hand to the reeve. “I am Lady Shey of the Vale of Morgoran, advisor to Lux Enor.” She hesitated. “In fact, I actually only work in Lux Enor; I’m not from there.”

  The reeve took her hand and kissed it while bowing slightly. “My lady. I have heard of you. Terrible thing, the death of the highlord.”

  “Indeed, it was, good reeve.” Her words tumbled from her mouth, and she shot a glance at Sylvalora, who was chuckling. Shey never could hide her attractions to men from the elven woman.

  “So, you are investigating his death here in Valwall?” Youree asked.

  Lady Shey chose her words carefully dismissing the momentary thought of saying something about the boy. Instead, she decided she had better stick to her cover story. “I go where the trail of evidence leads me, good sir. It is a coincidence that we travel through your village. We were actually heading for The Blight, to Old Symbor.”

  “Old Symbor! Why the world would you want to go there? We have been getting reports that Old Symbor is where all this nonsense originated. It is far too dangerous.” He paused to take in the full sight of her. “For someone...so delicate and lovely as you.”

  Shey’s face felt hot. He must have picked up on her awkwardness. She decided to be stern and commanding. She wasn’t about to let the reeve know she felt some attraction to him, “Good sir don’t let my exterior fool you. I can take care of myself.” She patted Rodraq’s armor. “And I have a fine bodyguard.” She took a step closer. There was an uncomfortable silence. Shey decided she needed to break it, “Of course, there is something you can do to help me. You could write me a writ of passage.”

  “But, my lady, you are the highlord’s advisor. You can pass freely.”

  She shook her head, “The highlord is dead. Besides, even if I can travel freely, it sets a good example for the common folk if I keep to the legalities. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Aye, my lady, I will draft you a writ of passage. Just follow me to my office.”

  Shey addressed Rodraq. “I am all right here. Go to the coach and prepare to travel into The Blight. Get any provisions we need.” Rodraq reluctantly agreed. “And Rodraq, make certain you clean up. You look and smell dreadful.”

  “Aye, my lady.” He sheathed his sword and began muttering under his breath as he walked away.

  “Shall we?” Lady Shey held out her arm, and the reeve took it.

  Youree’s office consisted of a rectangular room with two jail cells connected to the rear. There were two desks, one for the reeve and another for his deputy. He motioned for Lady Shey to sit in a small wooden chair.

  “I will stand; thank you.”

  “Suit yourself.” He began drafting the writ.

  “I wonder if you might be able to tell me about a boy here recently who is thought by some to be a seer?”

  The reeve almost knocked over his ink pot. He stared into Shey’s sapphire blue eyes, frozen for a moment in thought. She could tell he was trying to craft his answer carefully. She tried her best to accent her eyes with a demure and feminine gaze. It appeared to work as she saw the man’s face soften.

  “Aye, we had such a boy here. In fact, there were two, twins I believe.”

  “Twins,” Shey repeated. “Tell me more.” She leaned toward him, turning on her charm with a lovely smile.

  “The Defenders took them into The Blight, a cabin about a league away on the road to Old Symbor. The last report I got was that they were dead. They were killed by the defenders.”

  “Defenders do not execute people, certainly not boys. They would find a way to turn them into soldiers. When was this report?”

  “Actually, I have it right here.” He handed her a piece of parchment.

  “It is dated with yesterday’s date.”

  “Aye, I got it yesterday.”

  “When did your trouble begin?”

  He looked thoughtful. “Yesterday. Say, you don’t think the two events are related, do you?”

  Shey resumed her charm. “I doubt it.” She handed the parchment back to Youree. Her handprint was still glowing on it, but she hoped the reeve wouldn’t notice it. Negating enchanted parchment was easy. It was some of the first magic she had ever learned.

  “Here you go, my lady.” Youree handed Lady Shey the writ with his seal, in wax, affixed to it.

  “Thank you, my good man.” She bowed. “No need to follow me out. I know my way. You have many duties to tend to no doubt.”

  “Let me get the door at least.” The man bounded for the door and opened it. Rodraq had pulled the coach just outside the reeve’s office, its wheels clipping and clopping on the cobblestone street before it rolled to a stop.

  “Ah, see here is Rodraq with the coach.” She stepped out of the reeve’s office. “I see you still have not cleaned up,” she scolded him.

  He grumbled before speaking, “I was told of a natural hot spring just south of town. I thought we might stop there for a bath.”

  Shey was pleasantly surprised, “Aye, that is acceptable. The gods know I could use a soak too.” she said as Rodraq closed the coach door. Sylvalora had lowered the steps and was standing next to them. Shey gave her a quick glance and shook her head. Sylvalora bobbed her head and followed her into the coach. The reeve raised the stairs and gave the door a sharp double pat so Rodraq would know the coach was secure and ready to move out.

  “Thank you, Reeve,” She
y said through the half-opened side window. He nodded and smiled weakly.

  Sylvalora took her familiar place across from Shey, “Well, what was that all about?”

  Shey signaled for her to secure the coach as it began to move away from the reeve’s office, and Sylvalora complied. Once the spell was complete, she sat back tentatively.

  “They are holding the boys at a cabin a league or so into The Blight. I suspect when we arrive there, the Defenders guarding them will be dead or worse, unliving.”

  “Boys? Plural! What did you find out?”

  “The village reeve received a report from the Defenders that the boys were dead. It was enchanted. I suspect it was to mislead the reeve so he would no longer pursue the matter.”

  “Or it was to mislead him so he would turn away any who asked about them.”

  “I dispelled the charm.”

  “Is that it?”

  “No, I felt a presence, the one who did the enchantment on the message, I could see them for a moment, and it isn’t good. I am willing to wager the boys are alive and they have company.”

  “Company of the worst kind, I presume?” Sylvalora asked.

  “Yes, it’s been a while since I have run into one. Do you still remember how to detect them?” Shey asked.

  “Drasmyd Duil? Aye, they smell horrible. It’s unmistakable.”

  “Why would they try it? They have not fooled us for several years. They are so easy to detect.”

  “They have gotten clever since you last saw one. For example, it will probably be disguised as a Defender. One who has recently been in battle; dead soldiers and blood would mask the smell.

  “If it killed the other Defender guards, the boys will likely not know about it.” Shey put her finger to her temple. “If the seer boys are this important, the Drasmyd Duil may be preparing to take them to Naneden. We should hang back and follow them.”

  “Do you have a headache?”

  Sylvalora rubbed her temple, “A slight one, nothing to worry about. So, what do you want to do about the situation?”

  “I think we need to get the boys. I think you should cast an enchantment over them, so they are hidden from magic detection, and we keep them with us.”

  “You don’t think that would be asking for trouble?”

  “If they are seers, they may be useful to us.”

  “Ah, you hope to gain insight. I don’t know, Shey. Even with my enchantments, we shouldn’t keep them in our company for long. What if their gifts come from the Oracle? What if the Oracle is awakening with The Blight? You will have a piece of him traveling around with us.”

  “We can’t let them fall into the enemies’ hands regardless. I agree they might be troublesome, but until we find a place to secure them, our best course of defense is to keep them close.” She bit her lower lip. “You know, I think the best place for them would be the Vale of Morgoran in the tower. We will keep them with us, under our watchful eyes, until we can make the arrangements.”

  “Assuming we do find them, both of them,” Sylvalora said.

  The coach came to a stop, and Rodraq tapped on the door. “We are at the hot springs.” He pointed to a wooden building surrounded by trees. A flowing stream ran underneath it.

  “I suppose we should make use of the hot springs ourselves,” Shey suggested.

  “Don’t you think our priority should be to get the boys?”

  “How long of a bath do you plan to take?” Shey asked.

  “I usually soak for a while, dear. You know this.”

  Shey took out a kit with various soaps and bathing products from the storage space underneath her seat. “Just get cleaned up, and we will be on our way. We can come back for a long soaking some other time.” Shey knew Sylvalora really had no intention of delaying them to soak. It was her way of saying she disapproved of the delay but understood the importance of bathing. In her own way, she was testing Shey’s resolve.

  Sylvalora nodded. “Very well. Do you have any more of that lilac soap I like so much?”

  “Of course, I do,” Lady Shey said as she stepped down from the coach.

  Chapter 8: Beneath the White Tower

  The cabin, nestled in a small copse of trees, which were dead and devoid of essence, sat just off the main road to Old Symbor. Lady Shey wished she had one of the essence-imbued jade statuettes from which to draw in essence to cast her spells. She was good with her daggers but felt naked without being able to use magic as well. On a whim, she tried to draw in essence. To her amazement, essence did come, but it was shallow, like trying to breathe in an overtight corset. It was not enough power to cast better attack spells. She might be able to cast a small protective shield.

  When the coach came to a stop, Sylvalora was the first to exit. She whispered a few words, and a quarterstaff appeared. Lady Shey looked jealously on. “How can you conjure that without essence?”

  “It doesn’t require essence. It’s entirely different magic. I can teach you later if you wish.”

  “What is it, dragon magic?”

  “Aye, and extremely easy to cast.” She spun the staff in the air, making it whizz and hum. She stopped with it tucked under her armpit.

  “I would like to learn that spell,” Shey said.

  Rodraq, sword in hand, approached. “Plan?”

  Lady Shey squinted at the cabin. “It’s difficult to see this far away, but it appears no one guards the outside. I say the direct approach.”

  “Direct it is!” Rodraq said. He held his sword out and marched up to the door of the cabin. In one mighty kick, he obliterated the front door. Shey and Sylvalora were close on his heels. As suspected, a stench assaulted their senses and two Drasmyd Duil, wings wrapped around their lithe bodies, stood perched over a boy of about ten or eleven years. They snarled and attacked. Lady Shey didn’t think; she just launched into her trained dagger attacks. First was spinning eagle talon. She whirled in a circle, bringing both daggers, one after the other, to bear on the first Drasmyd Duil as it unfurled its wings. It screamed as she sliced through the thin, leathery right wing before it could get its arm free to claw at her. She dodged its deadly acidic spit. Rodraq was at her side, running his sword through the creature and slicing up and out. The Drasmyd Duil split in two and collapsed, convulsing on the floor. Both Shey and Rodraq turned to the other creature, but Sylvalora was already pulling her ethereal staff from its eye socket. Her staff morphed into a double-bladed staff, a blade on each end, as she swung it over her head and came down on the creature’s shoulder. Its head landed somewhere in the corner. Its body buckled, with black blood shooting from its exposed neck as it fell.

  Lady Shey put away her daggers and went to the boy. He looked up at her and smiled. “You have come for me?”

  “Aye. Can you tell me your name?”

  “My name is Geron. Do you know my mother and father?”

  “I don’t know. Where are they?”

  The boy looked distressed. “I think those black creatures killed them.”

  Shey felt a jolt of sympathy. “You are safe now. Where is your brother?”

  The boy shrugged, “I am alone.”

  “Oh, I was told there were two of you.”

  “He went with one of those men in the white cloaks a long time ago. They didn’t want us to be together.”

  “Do you know where they might have taken him or which way they might have gone?”

  The boy shook his head.

  “No, I don’t suppose you would know such things.” She said.

  “Are all the black creatures gone?”

  “Aye, they are. We won’t let the bad creatures hurt you anymore.” The boy reached up and hugged Shey’s neck. Her heart instantly melted. “Come with us. We will protect you.”

  Geron’s blue eyes seemed to sparkle. He nodded and took Shey’s hand.

  When they got to the coach, Sylvalora began her protection spell to shield Geron from any prying eyes. As the coach pulled away, Geron curled up beside Lady Shey and went to sleep.


  Sylvalora tapped her forehead. Shey put her hand over Geron’s exposed ear.

  “He has taken to you,” Sylvalora whispered.

  “He has. I must admit, I had not expected him to so quickly. I guess I expected him to be somewhat traumatized.”

  “He may yet be. We both need to keep our eyes on him.”

  “Can you make sure he sleeps the rest of the way to Old Symbor?”

  “I will,” Sylvalora said. “I imagine he needs it.”

  LADY SHEY SAT BESIDE Rodraq in the driver’s seat as the first glimpse of Old Symbor appeared in the distance. She had moved to the top of the coach to allow Geron to stretch out over the entire length of the coach seat while he slept. The White Tower still stood as the tallest building in Old Symbor. It loomed over the city like a forgotten sentinel, guarding a dead city. Once the Blight had engulfed the city and its surroundings, nothing would grow in the farmer’s fields or the peasant gardens. The cattle and sheep ranchers no longer had grassy fields for their animals to graze in, and even the flowers couldn’t survive the Blight. They all died out and new plants brought in would soon die after they were planted in the soil. They would not even grow in separate house pots. The city survived on imports for a time before the king of Symboria finally declared that the capital be moved out of The Blight. He declared the southern port city of Paladine to be the new capital, and he renamed it Symbor, after the family name of the king forever relegating this place to be called Old Symbor.

  Shey felt overwhelming sadness as they passed through the debris-choked streets. Buildings crumbled and decayed everywhere she looked. She felt a tear roll down her cheek as they passed the ruins of the Sleeping Hound Inn where she had once begged for food from the inn’s cook, Ignacio. Her heavy heart did not lighten when they reached the yard of the White Tower of Enowene. The outer wall, where she had taken refuge when she was a little girl, had crumbled completely away. Enowene, the headmistress of the academy within the tower, had long ago moved to the Vale of Morgoran.

  “I wonder what we will find within those walls,” Shey said to Rodraq.