Dawn of Darkness: Book 1 - Full (Where The Shadows Stalk)

by Adam Watson

  Yes, the brothers were happy and joyous when they had exited the warehouse. The reward awaited them at the City Hall, and soon all the people at the docks would hear of the tale - Warehouse 12 was safe again. The authorities would be praising them, and the people would cheer them - that night they celebrated at the tavern till the early hours of the morn.

  Life was good, they had achieved everything they had wanted to achieve from their first proclamation, the authorities had even allowed them to keep the weapons and armour, which admittedly wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. It wasn’t until Greegan got back to the room and slept did the nightmare begin.

  It began as dreams, bad dreams. Dreams of rats - unnaturally large, eyes filled with disease and hate; clawing and tearing. Dreams of the amber mist - burning and tormenting; seeping into the blood and destroying the mind. Dreams of men - kneeling and praying; worshipping their god and chanting for salvation. Then there were the worst dreams of all – The dreams of eyes; blood red eyes.

  The dreams broke his sleep, leaving him in a state of constant unrest. Often, he would awake in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and heart racing; sometimes he was filled with terror, sometimes just an uneasy fear, and sometimes he just lay there numb, overcome and exhausted. The dreams may have terrified him, but they were nothing. It was when the voices starting whispering in his head that he became truly worried.

  At first, he thought he could deal with it; he thought it would pass. He thought it was just a reaction to the ordeal and that the memories would fade, but they didn't pass, they didn’t fade away - if anything, they had become more intense as time passed.

  He felt like he should have told Aiden about it, but what would he have thought? That his brother was losing his mind? Greegan knew things would never have been the same; his brother would never be able to trust him again and would start watching him constantly with concern.

  His younger brother, the one who always looked up to him, the one who had always come to him for advice or protection if he was in trouble, would never be able to feel that way again. What was worse was that fact that Greegan wasn’t entirely sure that he wasn’t going mad.

  Things had changed since that time in the cavern, something had happened to Greegan, and it had nothing to do with the rat-god. No, there was something else down there, something even more powerful. In the cavern the voices had wailed loudly in his mind, driving him to distraction, causing him to lose focus, but they had also been his saviour. They had warned him that the horde was coming. They had whispered the answers in his ears. They had made him seek out the red eyes; they had made him kill his brother. It was pure madness, but the voices had saved them both.

  In his mind, he knew something bigger was going on. That warlock, that old man down at the bottom of the cavern; that crazed, old, rat-worshipping bastard, had used his concoction to create a mist that had put both of them into a deadly trance.

  In their minds, hallucinations raged, but in reality, their bodies stood still. Unbeknown to the two brothers, the warlock was in the middle of a ritual sacrifice and was about to kill Greegan when Greegan suddenly and unconsciously drew the axe from his belt and plunged it straight into the warlock’s head - somehow that had broken the spell.

  There were more to those hallucinations than met the eye. Greegan was sure of it. If the mist was the sole cause, then why did the spell break when the warlock was killed? If the warlock was casting some sort of spell to create the hallucinations, then what was the mist for? The answers were probably in that book the authorities found. Damn it! He knew he should have stolen it before he left.

  Even though there were some unanswered questions, Greegan thought he could deal with that part of the adventure. They went into the warehouse, found a secret tunnel, encountered some crazy old coot, killed him and bagged the reward. That’s what the proclamations were about. A task, an encounter; victory would lead to reward and failure could mean death. That was part and parcel of attempting the proclamations. There was risk, sometimes great risk, but the riskier the task, the greater the reward.

  When he had gone down there with Aiden he had expected combat, he had expected fighting and confrontation; he even thought that one of them might be injured. No-one wanted that, but that was the risk for the reward. If the tasks were easy everyone would be doing them, not just would-be heroes. All that … he could deal with, but what he never expected to come away with were voices inside his mind; ranting and raving and trying to tell him what to do.

  Where did the voices come from? There was no indication that they had anything to do with a long-forgotten rat-god. Why were they telling him things? Why were they protecting him? He felt like the voices were somehow warning or guiding him, but to what end he did not know. Should he be trusting them? So far everything they had told him was true, everything they had told him had kept him and his brother alive, even if it was in the worst possible way; most notably having to spike his own brother’s head.

  Why did they sound so evil? Why did they sound so menacing? First, they would whisper madly, like they had lost their minds and then one would start screaming and hollering, raving maniacally, and then all of them would join in, sounding like a chorus of mad loons - it just didn’t make any sense.

  Then the fighting with Aiden started. He was getting suspicious and knew something was wrong. He kept asking, but Greegan would just change the subject. What was he going to tell him anyway?

  Sometimes the voices would be at him continuously until he answered them out loud, only then would they be satisfied and quieten down, but Greegan dare not talk to them when anybody else was around. There were several paths where that could lead, and none of them were good.

  It was one thing to be a bit mad, paranoid or even slightly eccentric and start muttering under your breath, but when you’re arguing and screaming at things that no-one else can see … well, people get locked up for that kind of behaviour, and that was the good outcome. If one of those religious fanatics got a hold of you, they would start saying things like ‘Possessed,’ ‘Demonspawn,’ ‘Creed’ or even worse ‘Minion of the Seventh Hell.’ Any one of them could get you burnt at the stake.

  One time Aiden had walked in on Greegan whilst he was arguing with the voices.

  "What are you doing?" Aiden had asked, furrowing his eyebrows with concern.

  "Nothing," Greegan had answered, but the guilty look on his face told Aiden otherwise.

  "Who were you talking to?" Greegan had replied that he wasn't talking to anyone. Aiden had searched both rooms where they were staying, convinced that someone else was there, but of course, he didn’t find anyone.

  "I know you're hiding something," he said, before he left the room. Greegan’s fears were coming true, the relationship between them was already beginning to change, and Aiden’s trust was starting to waver.

  Greegan made up his mind that night, he needed to get away. He didn't want to be around his family or friends while the voices were still nattering in his mind - it would only be a matter of time before he gave something away.

  Leaving the city to be by himself may have been the easiest solution to avoid suspicion, but that still left him with one major problem - what was he going to do with Aiden? Obviously, he couldn’t bring him with him, and he didn’t like the idea of Aiden attempting to complete a proclamation on his own. The best thing was to get him to go home, back to their parent’s house.

  He would be safe there and well looked after. He could go back to boar hunting or maybe take up blacksmithing. Yes, that’s what he should do.

  Greegan had spent the next few days planning on how to do just that, but the more he thought about it, the more anxious he became. He knew his brother, Aiden was headstrong and when someone tried to make him do something he didn't want to do he would rebel to the point of unreason. If Greegan confronted him face to face to tell him of his plans to leave, there would almost certainly be an argument. Greegan could just imagine what would happen.
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br />   First Aiden would start to yell, then he would make Greegan feel guilty for wanting to go without him, and then he would harass him incessantly until he told him about the voices and why he wanted to go … and that was the last thing Greegan wanted to do.

  No, the best thing to do would be to leave a note; a note with a fake explanation as to why he had to leave. Yes, he would sneak out in the middle of the night, leave the note explaining why he had to leave and why Aiden needed to go back home. He would take everything and leave Aiden just enough money to get back to the farm - that way he would have no choice but to go home.

  Half asleep in the coach Greegan smiled, the plan had worked exactly as he had hoped. When Aiden had come back to the room from the tavern and collapsed in the bed blind drunk, Greegan took it as a sign from the gods that that night was the night. He went back out into the tavern and sold all their equipment. He didn’t get much for it, but he got rid of it, and that was the main thing.

  After that, Greegan left the note which he had written two days earlier on the bedside table where it couldn't be missed. He then walked to Aiden’s room and said goodbye. Aiden mumbled something unintelligible in his drunken stupor, and Greegan smiled.

  "Don't worry Aiden, I'll be back soon. Say hi to the folks for me." Aiden didn't answer, but instead, rolled over into a more comfortable position. Greegan walked out of the inn and headed towards the stables where the coachman was waiting.

  "Tonight's the night," he said. The coachman smiled and nodded in response; he was eager to leave.

  "The coach is ready, I'll just hook up the horses, and we'll be good to go."

  That had been three days ago. They rode to the next town during the night and whilst the horses were resting and being watered the coachman found two additional passengers heading the same way as Greegan. This pleased the coachman to no end; this trip was going to be more profitable than he had first thought.

  The voices in Greegan’s head were still there; those whisperers, those chatterers. They were still nattering away inside in mind, telling him where to go, compelling him forward, saying this way and that.

  They were showing him the way, but what would he find when he got there? He wasn't sure, but he didn't have any fear of this unknown. He was beginning to trust the voices; they were protecting and guiding him. Instead of fear, there was excitement and anticipation, and he found himself looking forward to what was to come.

  Yes, Greegan was looking forward to his new adventure. It was a shame that Aiden couldn’t come with him, but he knew that Aiden would be fine. He’s probably on his way back to the farm right now. Greegan smiled, once he had rid himself of the voices, he too would go back to the farm and see how everyone was doing - maybe he and Aiden could continue the proclamations where they had left off.

  No, Greegan wasn't worried about Aiden. He was strong, he was skilled, he could take care of himself, why would he worry? Greegan closed his eyes once more and had one final thought before he slipped back to sleep. But I do wonder how he is going ...

  ***

  Aiden was a seething pool of rage. Three days had passed, and he still couldn't believe what had happened. That steaming pile of horse dung, which he used to call his brother, had abandoned him. And he took all my things. He was so angry that the very thought made him shake. Go home to the folks?! Aiden eyed the small pile of coins that was supposed to buy his boat ride home. The more he looked at it, the angrier he became, and he lashed out, sending the coins flying across the room. GO HOME TO THE FOLKS?!!

  "Are you fucking serious?" he whispered, in a hiss full of spite. He brushed his hands through his hair, trying to make sense of it all. How the fuck could this have happened? Aiden rocked back and forth on the bed, he was frustrated beyond belief. If his brother walked in right now, he would punch him right in the face. Aiden read the letter again, perhaps for the hundredth time.

  Brother,

  We’ve had our differences lately, but I want you to know that I still love you.

  Even this first sentence made Aiden seethe.

  Our experience down in the cavern fulfilling Proclamation 35 was a great victory, but it also left me wondering …

  What … in the Fifth, Sixth and Seventh Hell … was that supposed to mean?

  … I’ve been thinking about the future, and I feel like I need some time on my own to work things out.

  What was there to work out? They chose a proclamation, they fulfilled it, they got the reward - just like they had planned. The only thing they had to ‘work out’ was what their next proclamation was going to be.

  So, I’m going to be away for a while, but don’t worry, I’ll come back for you soon.

  This sentence made Aiden seethe even more. For a start, where was he going? Secondly, why would he worry? Why would he even care anymore? You can’t just abandon me and think that I’ll care if you came back, Brother.

  The words in his mind upset him, he did still care about Greegan, but how could Greegan treat him like this? Like some kind of hindrance whose input had no value?

  In the meantime, you should make your way back to the folk’s house. You’ll be safe there. I’ve left enough coin for you to buy your way back.

  Go back to the folk’s house? That was Greegan’s plan, for Aiden to go back to the folk’s house with his tail between his legs? To undo all the success he had achieved? To be safe? Was he serious? He actually wrote down 'You'll be safe there.' What did he think he was, some kind of child that needed looking after?

  He wanted to tear the letter up, it made him so mad. He wanted to bite it, to chomp it, to tear it to shreds with his teeth and then stamp the pieces into the ground. He wanted to grind that letter to a pulp and burn what was left into oblivion, but instead, he held it and glared at it; shaking with contempt.

  Take care brother and see you soon,

  Greegan

  P.S. Say hi to the folks for me.

  That was it? That was the entire letter? That was all he was going to tell him? Say hi to the folks for him? If only you were here brother ... I'd give you the thrashing of a lifetime, but Greegan wasn't there, and there was nothing Aiden could do about it … with that knowledge Aiden reached a level of seething he had never before felt.

  ***

  For the next two days, Aiden raged inside his room. He didn't want to go outside, he didn't want to face the world, he didn't want to do anything but brood and mope about.

  Eventually though, he used all the coin that Greegan had left him, and now he couldn't buy his way back to his parent’s farm - even if he wanted to. Then the innkeeper told him that he would have to leave if he couldn’t afford to pay for the room - now the streets were his home.

  "FUCK YOU BROTHER!!" he yelled, as he walked. He didn't know where Greegan had gone, but he really hoped that it was in the same direction he was facing. This is bullshit! he thought, shaking his head in disbelief. How could he do this to me? He just couldn't grasp the fact that his brother had left him in the lurch like this.

  During the days that followed Aiden continued to wander the streets, disillusioned and dazed. Hunger was becoming a factor, the nights were cold or wet and sometimes both. He didn't have any money for food or shelter, and so had to scavenge what he could from the streets.

  "I want my things back brother," he muttered under his breath. All he had left were the clothes he was wearing. He was so poor now that he had to get his water from the horse trough under the cover of darkness; being too ashamed to do it during the day - he cursed his brother on every mouthful.

  It took another two days, a very empty stomach and the taste of a sour apple for him to get a grip on himself. It tastes sour because it’s stolen, he thought. He was sitting near the docks looking out into the port, watching the ships come and go. He used the time to clear his mind, he had finally come to terms with the fact that his brother wasn't coming back. That fact annoyed him beyond measure, and even deep in the midst of bitter seething, he knew that he had no choice but to accept
it and move on … but what was he supposed to do now?

  He was back to where he started, his time in Amalicia City had come full circle, in fact, he had gone backwards and was now worse off than when he had arrived.

  When he had started, there was enough coin for food, board and a weapon. Now he had nothing. His brother was gone, he was hungry and cold, he was at the lowest point he had ever been.

  He knew things were getting bad because despite what it looked like, the water from the trough didn’t taste all that bad. Things are getting desperate. That thought made him sad, but where could he go from here? He stood up, this moping was getting him nowhere. He needed to find some work. Work would give him coin or food or even better … both. Right now, he just wanted to eat.

  Visions flashed through his mind - juicy roasted pork, lamb cutlets or even a chicken, just nibbling on a half-burnt chicken sounded great. Mead … apple cider … ale … even fresh water … anything would suffice, as long as he didn’t have to share it with a horse.

  Aiden set off down the cobbled road that led back into the heart of the city, surely he could find some work there. Apprentice blacksmith, fish filleter, labourer - there had to be something he could do.

  As he walked along, taking in the sights and sounds of the city. His spirits began to lift. Get a job … get some food. The thought of eating a proper meal and sleeping in an actual bed was filling him with joy. Warmth by the fire. Sitting in a tavern, next to the hearth with an ale in his hand - it was a good thought, and it made him happy. Yes, things were definitely looking up.

  After all, this was Amalicia City - the capital of the great nation of Amalicia. This was one of the biggest and busiest cities on the continent; a city being rebuilt, in a nation undergoing a rebirth. This city attracted all kinds of people looking for riches, fame and glory. Aiden smiled. Now all I need to do is find the right opportunity.

  ***

  Located in the midst of this throng, somewhere near the centre, lay the Amalician City Hall. The doors flew open, and the brightly clad town crier stepped into view. He was loud, colourful and full of energy. He waved his bell, and it rang out loud across the city.