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

by Adam Watson

  ***

  A week passed, and Goran raged at the barred door, howling like a madman, screaming for somebody to come. He hadn’t seen or heard anyone the whole time he had been in there. Someone was coming though, someone was leaving food and drink for him in the night. One time he had even stayed awake for two days straight trying to catch them in the act; he just wanted to talk to them, to get some information about what was happening and if they had plans to release him, but he never saw a soul. He fell asleep exhausted and when he woke the next day - the bread was there.

  He threw himself from the bars and paced around the cell like a brooding dog. Why was he so angry? He should be happy, not only could he sit up now, but he could walk around. It also appeared that none of his ribs were broken, just badly bruised - he should be thankful for that. He had, however, broken his nose on the stone floor, but that was his own fault.

  Overall, he was recovering quickly and felt better and stronger every day, but what was he supposed to do now? Stay in this dungeon forever? Where was his trial, where was his chance to defend the accusations? Why was he even in there? What, because he lied? Because their stories didn’t match up? Wasn’t the Commander even going to try to find out the truth? No, the Commander had just imprisoned him on a whim, and that’s what made Goran rage more than anything.

  And what had become of Aseeka? And of Kayla and Dray? Well, Dray was probably still lying in the cot. The last time Goran had seen him, he didn’t look like he would be going anywhere anytime soon. Kayla was probably in a cell, just like this one, and Aseeka was probably in the same - he hoped they were still alive.

  “LET ME OUT YOU FUCKERS!!”

  ***

  Dray looked around. He had been in this room for a week, ever since he regained consciousness. He was feeling much better now and he was sure it had something to do with the strange glow that was following him around. It came from the outside, through the slits in the window. It travelled through the hall, shimmering all the way, it passed through the gap under the door and straight to him. It was weird, but it seemed to be healing him with every day that passed, so he didn’t worry too much about it - not that he had a choice.

  The two healers would be visiting him soon, to feed him and to make sure that he was comfortable as they always did, but were they really there to help him? Were they really that concerned for his welfare? They seemed to ask a lot of questions - he didn’t like that, it reminded him too much of the Karite Inquisition for his liking.

  So far, he had warded them off with vagueness and an aloof manner, so-called side effects of what had happened to him. He still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened to him, but judging from the state of his body, something unpleasant had.

  His first concern when he woke up was of the Oracle’s welfare, he was surprised when she wasn’t there at his side. He didn't call her the Oracle of course, no, he had already learnt that lesson the hard way. Instead, he had used her first name, they told him she was safe and in the building. Later they told him that it was best for her to leave him alone whilst he recovered. They said that Kayla had accepted that, and was now on her way to Amalicia City - he knew they were lying.

  He could feel the Oracle somewhere down below, she was safe and felt content, but she had never left the building. In fact, he had never sensed her presence move far from the spot she was in right now, and it had been a week. Maybe they had her locked up, but why did she feel so at peace? He wanted to go down and check on her, but he was still weak. Why are they lying? They were hiding something - that much was certain.

  Dray studied the marks on his hands; they were getting better, the wounds and missing pieces of his body were filling in - as he moved the shimmer followed him like an oily slick.

  There was a knock at the door, and Dray immediately wondered who it was. He had few visitors whilst he recovered, and none of them knocked. He had tried to leave the room once, but the door was locked. The next time the healers came to him, he asked them why? They answered that it was for his own safety, and then told him that it was best not to wander the halls of the citadel until he was completely well again.

  Dray had agreed - for now, but only because he truly did need to get better. He had already decided he was going to get the Oracle and leave this place as soon as possible and he wanted to be at full strength when that happened.

  Something was off about this place, they had been pleasant enough, but he had a feeling that if he truly tried to leave, he would find that much harder than he thought. There’s a cover-up going on here. So long as he knew the Oracle was safe, he could take his time in recovery - to a point.

  The door unlocked and opened. Dray watched as a rough looking female soldier walked in and relocked the door behind her.

  “Who are you?” he asked, the soldier squinted her eyes and gave him a puzzled look.

  “Dray, it’s me … Rayne.” Dray stared deep into the eyes of the soldier, he recognised her, but she had changed so much. Last time he saw her, she was happy, vibrant, loud and full of life, now she was quiet and timid and worried.

  “Drill Sergeant Rayne?” Rayne smiled, she was glad to finally find someone she had known before the chaos had started.

  "Yes Dray, it's me." Dray smiled, but to his surprise, he suddenly found himself a bit emotional.

  "I-I ... I thought you were all dead." Rayne walked over and gave Dray a big hug. Even though she was just a Drill Sergeant, the time they spent together training had created a bond. She had been training students for so long she felt like a mother to them all, and having no children herself; it was probably as close as she would ever get. Although Dray had never said it, he felt the same way.

  "Me too Dray, me too." They stood there embracing each other for a long time, tears flowing down their cheeks, neither one wanted the other to see them this emotional. Dray couldn’t help it, seeing her made all his old memories come flooding back.

  Memories of Commander Galleon, who had sacrificed his life to save him and Oracle. Then there were his training partners: Ludos and Wicknar. They had become like his brothers, and he wondered what had become of them? Deep down in his heart, he felt that they were probably both dead. He hadn’t even had time to think about what he had lost, his only focus had been to keep both himself and the Oracle alive.

  Once they had both pulled themselves together, they stood apart. Rayne looked Dray up and down, exactly as a mother would their child.

  "Well, you're looking a lot better than when they first brought you in." Dray smiled, he was feeling a lot better too. “When I first saw you, I was so shocked, you look like you had aged twenty years, but look at you now - you’re almost back to normal.” Dray held his arms up, and the golden glow seemed to follow in the air.

  “I think this is what’s healing me.” Rayne looked at the mysterious light that seeped in from the outside. Most of the soldiers had seen it now, coming in from the outside, making its way to Dray, and that was exactly how Rayne knew he was in this particular room.

  “What is it?” she asked, in wonderment, she had never seen anything like it.

  “I’m not entirely sure,” Dray answered.

  “What happened to you, to cause this?” Rayne was genuinely concerned. She was, of course, concerned that some malady had befallen her favourite recruit, but she was also concerned about his fitness. Has he lost any of his skill … his strength … can he even fight? She would need his help if she wanted to escape this place alive.

  Dray thought back to what had happened? Should he tell her? Could he trust her? Not yet. What had happened? A nightmare. He couldn’t remember everything, but he did remember fire from the heavens falling down upon the Oracle. He could remember the desperation, the panic, the dread. It was as if death himself was coming down upon him; fear had never been so great, his greatest nightmare had almost come true. Then he remembered the strange realm, the vortex pushing and pulling his mind to different places. Then he woke up in the mess hall, and that’s when the lies beg
an.

  “The healers told me I had been hit by a magical beam wielded by a priest of Solus Bal in the attack on the castle.” He knew that was a lie, but if believing a lie was what it took to keep himself unbound and without a sack over his head, then he would believe that lie - until he got his full strength back.

  "Dray ... " Rayne was hesitant.

  "What is it, what's wrong?"

  "Dray, I have to tell you ... something about this place is not right." Dray nodded, so he wasn’t the only one who thought there was something odd going on.

  "What is it?" But before Rayne could answer, there were voices at the door, they both turned and looked.

  "I have to hide," Rayne whispered. Dray turned to her with a puzzled look on his face. "Trust no-one." She turned and quickly snuck into the wardrobe. Even though her behaviour seemed strange at that moment, Dray had known Rayne for years - he wasn't about to betray her to a couple of lying soothsayers.

  The door opened, and the two healers walked in. They wore purple robes, which was odd as he had no idea who their deity was. At least their not Karites. That was perhaps the only positive thing about them.

  "Ah, the man with the healing glow." Dray smiled, trying to act normal. "How are you feeling today?"

  "I feel a lot better … stronger, more energetic." Vassar, the man, shot a quick glance to Daena, the woman. Her stern features acknowledged the look and she nodded in response.

  "Well, that is most excellent news," answered Vassar. “I think that you are finally in a well enough state to meet the Commander.” Dray looked to Daena and she smiled at him encouragingly, then he thought about Rayne hiding in the wardrobe. I need to get them out of here.

  “Shall we go then?” Vassar smiled, and the three of them left the room.

  17. GREEGAN: RED MOUNTAIN

  Greegan had been travelling for weeks now, he had travelled from one end of the country to the other. He still wasn’t sure of where his final destination was, but the voices in his mind seem to be getting excited, so he knew he must be getting close.

  In the beginning, the voices had driven him to the brink of madness, but now, having lived with them for so long, he was almost used to it. They almost felt like they were a part of him now - almost.

  When they had first started whispering to him in the darkness, it had come as an incoherent babbling. They raved nonsensical, opposing one another, coming into his mind like a symphony of shrieks - and that had made him want to scream.

  The coach had come to a small town called Hagen’s Tooth that lay at the foot of the Jergoth mountains. It was a small mining community that mined an assortment of metals from the mountains, the primary one being iron.

  It was night, and the coach rolled through the dusty streets, leaving its trail behind on the dirt road. When Greegan looked out of the window and saw that most of the houses were dark, he knew it was going to be a quiet, unexciting place to visit. What are these voices thinking bringing me here?

  The coach rolled and creaked its way through the quiet town, eventually pulling up in front of the local inn. Light could be seen shining from the inside, which meant it was still open. So, after all this time ... this is where they bring me. He was underwhelmed, to say the least.

  He left the coach and thanked the coachman for his services, they had become good friends over the weeks, sometimes Greegan would even ride up front with him, but this is where the friendship would end.

  The coach rolled away, and Greegan was left standing by himself. He looked up and saw a rickety old sign - ‘The Red Goat Inn.’ Greegan sniggered, and all the voices went mad with laughter. What a stupid name for an inn, he thought.

  ‘BURN IT TO THE GROUND!!’ There was one voice in his mind that was louder than all the others. It rarely spoke, but when it did the others would go quiet. It often spoke with violent impulses, coming out of nowhere, and often startling Greegan when it did. That particular voice seemed to hate the world and Greegan would try to ignore it as best he could - which was difficult if there happened to be other people around. He opened the door and walked in.

  The front room was set up like a tavern. There was a rectangular fire pit in the centre of the room and long tables on either side to keep everyone warm. Around the outer edges of the room were booths, where people could sit and talk in private. Most of the people in the room looked to be local, which surprised Greegan, considering the coachman had said that a lot of travellers came in through Hagen’s Tooth.

  Greegan walked across the room towards the fire pit, his hands outstretched to warm them up on the heat. The room had gone quiet since he had opened the door and he could feel people watching him. He wasn’t sure whether it was because he was a stranger or because they weren’t used to people his size - perhaps it was a mixture of both.

  “Greetings everyone,” he said, with a wave of his hand. “I tell you what … it’s cold outside.” No-one answered him. Instead, they gave him cool-eyed looks. Greegan eye-balled the person nearest him, a man in a dusty yellow shirt with a thick black moustache.

  “It’s cold outside, isn’t it?” said Greegan, with a tone that demanded an answer. The man looked up at the size of Greegan and quickly grunted a response. Greegan nodded, not exactly what he was looking for, but he was making progress.

  “Can I help you stranger?” came a voice from behind him. Greegan quickly turned around.

  “That depends … are you the Innkeeper of this fine establishment?” The man nodded in response.

  “I am.”

  “Well then, I guess you can help me.”

  ‘KILL HIM!!’ shouted that voice, making Greegan almost jump. ‘BURN THIS PLACE AND EVERYONE IN IT!!’ Meanwhile, all the other voices chanted in a chorus. ‘ROOM! ROOM! ROOM! ROOM!’

  Greegan wiped his eyes, giving himself a moment to regain his composure; the patrons looked on nervously.

  “Ah … I think I’d like a room please.” The Innkeeper inhaled as though he was both expecting that answer and dreading it at the same time. There was a feeling of tension in the air. A stranger walks into an inn and asks for a room … and everyone gets tense about it? There’s something strange going on here. The Innkeeper swallowed hard before continuing.

  “Is … there a … preference of room?” Greegan looked on, there was no doubt about it, the innkeeper was as nervous as somebody about to enter the realms of hell. ‘KILL HIM!’ The voices were whispering again, so softly he could hardly make out what they were saying, but an image was forming in his mind.

  “A room with a … view … overlooking … a field!” The innkeeper had a look on his face like all his greatest nightmares were coming true. The patrons looked on completely silent, completely still. One man grabbed his ale and downed the lot in one almighty swig, only then did he look like he could actually deal with what was happening. ‘EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT!’ The voices chanted. ‘EXECUTE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM!’

  “Perhaps room eight would be good,” Greegan continued light-heartedly. The Innkeeper nodded his head vigorously and threw his hand up into the air like all hope was lost.

  “Room Eight!” he yelled. Room Eight was the last thing the innkeeper had ever wanted to hear. He wondered why this was happening to him. He had always known it could happen in his generation, but he had prayed to the Masters every night that he would be skipped. He turned to all the patrons in the room and began to berate them like naughty school children. “Room Eight everybody! Now you all know what that means, and so I want you all to show this man the respect that he deserves.” The patrons nodded willingly; no-one was going to argue with the Innkeeper over this.

  “Anything you want My Lord, I shall endeavour to get it for you.” The Innkeeper even bowed down to Greegan as a sign of respect. Greegan thought it was odd and didn’t completely understand what was going on, but the constant nattering was making him tired.

  “Right now, I just need to get some rest. I need to sleep for a while … in Room Eight.”

  “Of cours
e, My Lord, of course. Right this way.” The Innkeeper bent down and picked up Greegan’s travel pack for him. “We haven’t used Room Eight for a long, long time My Lord, but I have done my utmost to keep it ready for use at all times.” The Innkeeper took another good look at Greegan. He’s huge! He’s a beast! He could tear this place apart and everyone in it like we were no more than vermin in the street. “And can I just say, My Lord, what an honour it is to have you with us.” Wrath was the last thing the Innkeeper wanted.

  “Thank you,” replied Greegan, as he followed the man to his room. ‘KILL HIM!’ echoed that voice from the void, there was a long pause, and then another answered softly as if a faint echo. ‘Not yet.’ The voices went silent, Greegan had not heard that voice before, but the others had seemed to cower from it. Greegan followed the man to his room.

  ***

  Asleep in the screaming darkness, he tossed and turned in his bed. There was a thick sweat on Greegan’s brow as his body burned with fever. Nightmares plagued him, the voices screamed; howling, hollering and wailing.

  Visions wracked his mind; visions of rats, swarming, coming in numbers, oversized and insane. Biting and gnawing as they chewed into him; sinking their teeth into his flesh, making him scream. Then there were visions of eyes … red eyes … growing and consuming, filling his vision, devouring his mind, bringing with them the dread and making him do the unspeakable - he watched on as his brother died on the end of his axe.

  Greegan woke up in a cold sweat, he had not had nightmares like that since he had left Amalicia City. He looked around, it was morning. Light entered the room through slits in the shuttered window. The room he was staying in was immaculately clean and neat.