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

by Adam Watson

  "What happened then?"

  "I was running as fast as I could, heading for the street, but up ahead I could see more Creedic soldiers. There were people fighting in the streets, and I suddenly found myself surrounded by battle. I'm a dressmaker, not a fighter, and I was so scared, I didn't know what to do."

  "But you did do something, what was it?" The Commander's eyes were unmoving and his gaze pierced through the Oracle. Kayla swallowed, was he buying any of it or was she just making a complete fool of herself?

  "I couldn't go into the streets, nor could I go back to the workshop … and I couldn't stay where I was either. I did the only thing I could do, I climbed onto the roof." The Commander looked up, eyebrow raised.

  "You climbed onto the roof?" From the way he asked that question, Kayla was surprised that the Commander didn't laugh out loud. Surely, she didn't look that unfit.

  "There were some wooden crates stacked up in a pile, they reached up just high enough so that I could get up onto the roof. Normally I would have struggled with a big climb like that, but I think my fear gave me superhuman strength and I climbed up it like it was nothing at all." The Commander gave a non-committal grunt and wrote the answer in his log book, he had heard of and even witnessed such things on the battlefield - fear could make people do wondrous things.

  "What happened when you got onto the roof?"

  "I followed the rooftops as far away from the fighting as I could, a few times I had to take a huge leap to make it across, I wasn't sure if I could make it, but there was no way I was going to go down to the streets below. Eventually, I came upon a window. I smashed the glass and crawled inside. It was an attic full of junk; I hid in there for two days."

  "Two days? And what made you leave?"

  "I didn't want to leave, but I was hungry and thirsty. I knew I couldn't stay there forever and as much as I didn't want to, I knew I had to leave." The Commander finished writing the comment down in his book.

  "So, you left the attic ... back through the window?"

  “I did. I made my way back down to ground level, hiding wherever I went. I would never leave my hiding spot until I knew it was safe. I had to forage what I could from the ransacked buildings … which wasn’t much, but at least it rained, and I could drink, I was starving and scared and cried all the time, unless there was a patrol walking by and then I just hid, silent as a mouse and prayed in my mind.”

  The Commander shook his head sympathetically, he could just imagine what it would have been like for her out there on the streets by herself.

  “Eventually you met the others, how did that occur?”

  “A few days later, I was hiding in a house when I heard a loud commotion in the street. I peeked out the front and saw the others fighting a Creedic patrol. I was too afraid to help and what help could I be in a fight anyway? I watched and waited, and eventually they beat the patrol back. When they turned to leave I came out running. They were the first live humans I had seen in a week. I couldn’t bear to let them go without me, I didn’t want to be alone, and so I begged them to take me with them.”

  “And obviously, they agreed to that.”

  “Yes, they were nice and took me without hesitation. They were making their way to the gate when I joined them, not long after that your soldiers found us.”

  “And that brings us up to this point, doesn’t it Kayla?”

  “Yes Commander,” she answered respectfully, knowing that this man would tolerate no form of disrespect. The Commander stared at her, looking her up and down. He seemed to be evaluating her, determining her worth, weighing and judging to the point that Kayla started feeling uncomfortable. She didn’t say anything though, she wouldn’t dare. Instead, she sat there as meekly and quietly as she could. Eventually, the Commander looked back down to his notes and starting writing again.

  “Very well, you may go back and join the others.” Kayla stood up and calmly left the room, relieved that the questioning was over, but she was worried. Would the Commander believe their stories? Did their stories match? More importantly, would he let them go? Then there was another question … what would they do if he didn’t let them go?

  She got back to the room where Goran and Aseeka were patiently waiting. Kayla could tell by the looks on their faces that they were as worried as she was about the questioning. They all had enough sense not to talk about it though, not with so many soldiers around. So, she smiled and greeted them as though she had not a care in the world and then sat down to await their fate.

  Two hours went by, but to the Oracle it seemed like much longer. She didn’t like the fact that it was taking so long. Was there a problem? All she wanted to do was get to the other side of the wall with Dray and be on their way to Amalicia City.

  Eventually, the Commander emerged from the doorway, he had a small squadron of soldiers behind him. Goran looked at Aseeka, Aseeka looked at Kayla and Kayla looked at the Commander. It didn’t look good, in fact, it looked far from good. Kayla felt sick, a bad feeling was settling in her stomach - so many soldiers could mean nothing but trouble.

  “Aseeka Bas’hara, Goranverd Stormbringer and Kayla Faera … you’re all under arrest.” The soldiers moved in from behind the Commander. “Take them, strip them of any weapons and armour, put him in the cells, take the women down below.

  “Commander, what is the meaning of this?” The Commander looked at Kayla with contempt.

  “You had your chance, Kayla. I gave you a chance to tell the truth. I gave you a chance to tell me everything, but you lied to me, Kayla … you lied.” Kayla looked at him outraged. How did he know that? What gave it away?

  “Commander I assure you, we all told you the truth.” Wasn’t he even going to give them a chance to defend themselves?

  “Did you Kayla? … Did you?” They were too far entangled in the lie to start telling the truth now. “Take them away!” The soldiers approached, grabbing them by the arms and at first Goran looked like he was going to go berserker on them, but for some reason he didn’t - despite the fact that his ancestors were watching him.

  “It’s all right Commander … I’ll go peacefully.” The Commander raised his eyebrow in surprise, he had obviously expected a fight.

  “Watch him,” ordered the Commander. The soldiers dragged the three of them out of the room. There was little resistance, they all knew they didn’t stand a chance in a fight, not with this many soldiers around - they had no choice other than to see what would become of them.

  ***

  The girls were dragged deep below the walls to a dark, dank place - the Dungeon of the West Watch. They were stripped naked, their clothing, weapons and armour confiscated. Then they were dressed in ragged robes, and flung into the cell together like a couple of mangy dogs. The guards turned to leave, and Kayla rushed to the bars.

  “You can’t leave us here, we haven’t done anything wrong!” The guard turned, squint-eyed and menacing.

  “The Commander has plans for you two.” He laughed as he walked away. Kayla turned to Aseeka.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Aseeka just shrugged.

  “I don’t know, but it doesn’t sound good.” Kayla turned and walked to the corner of the cell where she slumped down on to the floor. By the gods, it’s the Karite Temple all over again.

  Aseeka walked over, and as she sat down next to Kayla, she put a comforting arm around her.

  “We’ll get through this … somehow.” Kayla smiled, at least she wasn’t alone, not like the last time she was imprisoned. She rested her head against Aseeka finding comfort in her embrace. No ... she wasn't alone, and this would not be like last time.

  ***

  As soon as Goran had left the main corridor and was out of sight of the girls, the struggle began. Goran knew his ancestors were watching him, but he also knew he was outnumbered a thousand to one. On the outside, Goran was as cold and stone-faced as ever, but his eyes were alight, the berserker inside of him was screaming to get out.

  They thought he
was going to make this easy on them because he had said he would go peacefully. They thought that he would be passive and walk to his cell willingly. They thought they were safe – they were wrong.

  These guards had made him lie more than once already, so what did one more lie really matter? He had kept quiet for the sake of the girls because he knew that they would have jumped in to help him, and his ancestors would not have approved of that at all.

  To all that watched on, Goran seemed to calmly follow the guards into the holding area far away from the mess hall, but the calmness was just a cover, a mask that would get him alone with his jailers without having the wrath of an entire army on him. Goran smiled at the thought, the very corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. What a way to go that would be.

  Taking on the entire Royal Army would, of course, be suicide, but Goran did wonder how many guards he could take out before succumbing. Would he be overwhelmed? Not if he was smart. Could he kill a hundred? He thought that he could - eventually, fatigue would overcome him and then he would be impaled by cold steel from every direction, he smiled. What a way to go.

  Goran knew that if he was going to die that way, it would be fighting the Creed, not the King’s Royal Army. Still, his ancestors were watching down on him, he couldn’t possibly be taken to the cells so meekly - that would be an insult to the forebears of his clan.

  They continued to walk down the corridor of the holding cells, every step taking them further away from the mess hall and further into the dark quietness. Six guards, he thought and took six more steps. It’s time. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, when he opened them again - the world had turned red.

  Goran reached out his huge hand to the guard in front. He grabbed the side of the guard’s head and slammed it into the prison bars as hard as he could, the guard fell to the ground, knocked out cold.

  “IT’S ON!” he shouted, and turned around. The guards behind him were already coming. He bent down and flipped one of them up and over his shoulder.

  "AAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEAAHH!!" It was the war cry of his ancestors, he punched another guard in the face, grabbed his arm and swung him around into the bars on the other side. The bars were meant to protect the guards, but now they were his weapons. Who needs swords and shields? He had his fists. He looked ahead and saw one of the younger guards running back down the corridor and towards the mess hall. He's going to get reinforcements. Goran shrugged. Let them come. He had known before he started he wouldn't be escaping this day, but by the gods, he was going to make them pay for their treachery. Another one charged and Goran punched, again and again, battering the guard to the ground - bloodlust had him firmly in its grip, and when the guard was on the floor, Goran laid his boot into him so hard that ribs shattered.

  The brawl continued, Goran had an insane look in his eyes and blood on his hands. The soldiers were hesitant to approach him, his mad snarling held them at bay, but then the reinforcements arrived - a group of ten big warriors and Goran knew the fight was over. The soldiers charged as one, Goran managed to get one more good punch in before he was overwhelmed. The soldiers pulled him to the ground, kicking and punching, bashing and stomping. They didn’t stop until Goran could no longer move.

  ***

  When Goran regained consciousness, it was like a dream. He could feel his arms being pulled, he could feel his body being dragged along the floor; he had no strength left with which to move, but he smiled anyway - his ancestors would be laughing with joy at the great spectacle he had presented to them this day.

  The guards dumped his body in the cell and locked the door tight. The world was no longer red, it was dark and getting darker. He knew he was going to lose consciousness; he knew he was going to sleep for a long, long time, but he was happy - his ancestors had been entertained, and if he died right at that moment, they would surely welcome him with a loving embrace.

  14. AIDEN AND MAGMUS: TWO JOURNEYS BEGIN

  Hammar’s Battle Academy was the largest and most famed training ground of its kind in Amalicia. It was known throughout the country for producing some of the finest warriors and battle-lords in the world.

  Aiden entered the training hall. Inside men were sparring all around, either bare-fisted or with various kinds of weapons. On one side of the hall two men stood alone, one of them was a huge man of about fifty years of age. From the way he was shouting orders, Aiden assumed he must be the leader and slowly approached him.

  “Are you Hammar?” Instead of looking up and acknowledging Aiden, Hammar kept his concentration on the men he was training.

  “I am,” he answered.

  “I’ve heard that you are the best trainer there is.”

  “Have you now?” Hammar didn’t seem at all flattered by the statement.

  “Yes, and I want you to train me to be the best.” Hammar slowly turned and looked at Aiden studying him carefully from head to toe.

  “Do you really think that you have what it takes to be the best?” It was clear in Hammar’s tone that he had his doubts.

  Did Aiden have what it took to be the best? Aiden wasn’t so sure, yes he thought he was a good and able fighter, but could he be the best? He looked at the men sparring in the academy. Most of them looked to be huge, muscle-bound veterans of war. Could he really stand up against them? Aiden was strong and fit by normal standards, having been trained by his father for years, but these men were true warriors – he looked tiny in comparison.

  Doubt filled his mind. I don’t know if I can do it. If he couldn’t stand against these men, what hope did he have of being a hero? He knew he would need more training if he were to become a proper warrior, capable of fulfilling the proclamations.

  Thoughts of his parents flooded his mind, his mother would be happy if he gave in now. She would love to have him home where she could feed him and make his warm bath. His father though, he would have that smarmy look on his face, like he knew that this is what would happen all along.

  Those things annoyed Aiden, but what was the real decider was his brother. Aiden could feel his blood boiling just thinking about his brother. The nerve! The audacity! To leave him stranded, to steal all his things, and to leave him only enough money for a trip back home to Mother. In that moment Aiden knew what he had to do, he had to follow through just to prove a point. I’m going to train brother and next time we meet … you’ll get yours.

  “I have what it takes to be the best.” Hammar smirked at the answer.

  “Do you have determination?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Courage?” he asked louder.

  “Yes,” replied Aiden with more emphasis.

  “Strength?” Hammar asked even louder.

  “Yes,” Aiden almost shouted.

  “Do you have the stamina, the will, the sheer persistence to make it to the end?”

  “I do!” Aiden shouted. Hammar paused for a moment to study Aiden again, and then leant closer to his face before he spoke again in a much quieter tone.

  “And when it gets tough, will you give in?”

  “No.”

  “Will you give up?” he asked, raising his voice again.

  “No!”

  “Will you cease, will you ever be halted?”

  “Never!” Aiden shouted. Hammar looked Aiden up and down again, this time he smiled as though pleased.

  “I like your spirit boy, but words come easy. Are you just talk or do you really mean what you say?”

  “I mean it,” replied Aiden, and Hammar nodded at the response.

  “Very well … the cost of my services is ten gold pieces.”

  “What?!” exclaimed Aiden, completely outraged.

  “I know, I know … it’s a lot, but I can’t just accept any person that walks in off the street, I need to know my students have talent before they join … reputations and such. If you really want to train here with me, if you really want to be the best, you will find a way to get the gold - consider it an entry test.”

  On the inside,
it hurt. It was going to take all the money Aiden had to get into the Academy, but he also knew it was worth it. Hammar’s training would be invaluable, what he would learn here, he would make back a hundred times over when he began the proclamations full time. Aiden smiled and took out his money pouch.

  “I have ten gold pieces,” remarked Aiden. He then proceeded to open his money pouch and gave the gold to Hammar. Hammar looked at the gold stunned and then looked back at Aiden with an expression that said ‘From which of the Seven Hells did you steal that from?’ Aiden simply smiled. “I completed proclamation number forty-seven: Slaying of the troll ‘Ooh’lag’.”

  “Oooohh,” exclaimed Hammar. “Ooooohh, a real-life troll-slayer. That’s good,” said Hammar, impressed. “I like that, it shows that you have a bit of talent.”

  “You have your money now, so when do we start training?” inquired Aiden, eagerly.

  “All right, all right, I can see you’re keen to begin. How about we start right now?”

  “All right,” said Aiden, preparing himself.

  “Lesson number one!” cried out Hammar, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “Always be on guard …” and before Aiden could react, Hammar punched him across the jaw, sending him to the floor unconscious. “… and trust no-one.” Hammar then went back to what he was doing, and he walked away from Aiden’s unconscious body; he snapped his fingers motioning for the guards at the hall’s entrance. “Take him away.” The guards dragged Aiden’s body out of the hall and tossed it into the street, where it landed in a crumpled heap.

  ***

  Meanwhile, far away from Aiden’s unconscious body, a two-horse coach travelled inconspicuously along the wooded countryside. It had been three days since Magmus had left Amalicia City. He was sad to leave his new friend, but he found himself looking forward to his arrival in Tiet K’rea where he would finally have a chance to take his studies seriously.