Under the Shadow of Darkness: Book 1 of the Apprentice Series

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Under the Shadow of Darkness: Book 1 of the Apprentice Series Page 1

by James Cardona




  Under the Shadow

  of

  Darkness

  Book 1 of the Apprentice Series

  ISBN: 978-0-9850284-8-0

  _______________________

  © 2014 by James and Issa Cardona

  _______________________

  Any similarities to persons real or imaginary are purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted, for profit, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical – including photocopying, recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the authors.

  Please direct your inquiries to: [email protected]

  _______________________

  Table of Contents

  1 The Home of the Master

  2 Ghoul-kind

  3 Ulysses or Odysseus

  4 The Hinterlands

  5 Ghoul Speak

  6 Sha’ane Village

  7 The Mayor of Sha’ane

  8 Bite Me

  9 And Then There Were Three

  10 Protolith

  11 Ghoul Attack

  12 Alexius and His Band

  13 Hell Hounds

  14 Fleck

  15 The Valley of Death

  16 The Breach

  17 Rylithnon

  18 Truth Shines

  Also by James Cardona

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  The Home of the Master

  Bel’s prearranged speeches quickly escaped him so he recited the standard presentation. “Master Nes’egrinon, I am Bel. Graduate of Lasaat and your chosen apprentice. I present myself to you for service and training.” He said the words nervously. On the long journey from the Academy of Arts and Magic he had rehearsed his words and how he would say them many times but he did not expect others to be present when his prepared announcement rolled off of his tongue. And he certainly did not expect to see Kerlith’s grinning face in the shadows.

  “Very well. Enter, Fifth Year student of Lasaat,” the old man replied.

  Kerlith choked back a laugh and masked it by coughing. Bel tried to ignore it. They had a history but Bel wanted to make a clean break; he wanted to start over fresh.

  Fingers of light highlighted old scars on one side of Nes’egrinon’s face as he turned and pointed his crooked finger. “Stand there, in that corner, Fifth Year. I have guests and we are attending to business. I will speak with you shortly.”

  Bel, thin and lithe, not quite a boy and yet not quite a man, went quietly and watched. Nes’egrinon returned to his chair in front of the fireplace and gave his back to the other mage in the room, a stone mage much younger than Bel’s new master. Bel had never seen much less heard of a mage giving another of equal stature his back. It would be considered the gravest of insults, but Nes’egrinon did it causally and apparently without malice.

  Muolithnon said, “Please consider the facts, Nes’egrinon. If the situation were not so, I would not trouble you.” He walked around the room to stand near the fire so that the old wizard might look up at him but his gaze did not leave the flames.

  “I believe you, even though I haven’t seen it myself.” The gray bearded mage paused as if he was suddenly listening to a faint sound. “The wind in the trees... There is death in the air. I don’t know what it is. It hides from me.”

  “Aye. And the stonecutters. It is well known that they speak only truth. Their words are troubling to hear. Even for such a one as you who has seen much, these are worrisome times. Something needs to be done. This is why I am here. This is why I have left my home of stone to ask for your help.”

  Bel had heard rumors that Nes’egrinon was odd. Standing in the corner and gazing around at the hovel, he realized that none of the stories did any justice to the old wizard or his home and its piles and piles of odd looking, dirt-covered junk stacked to the ceiling. The place was filthy too. A thin twilight shining in from the solitary window paralyzed the heavy dust hanging low in the air. The hearth was the centerpiece of the home and its flames flickered shadow and warm light on the moss-filled cracks of the stone floor; it felt much like an animal’s burrow to Bel.

  “Fifth Year, water.” Nes’egrinon’s words were hard in Bel’s ears but he complied without a look or a word. He did not like being called Fifth Year and did not expect to so quickly be ordered about like a First Year. Of course he knew he was to serve his master; washing, cleaning, cooking, it was all part of the deal. He had just graduated from the Academy of Art and Magic, one of the most prestigious schools in all the lands, and after graduation he was selected by Nes’egrinon, the great and terrible Nes’egrinon. It made his decision so much more difficult but he did it; he took the vow of celibacy, the vow that all wizards in training must take, and he left the girl he loved and the dream of a different life behind. Now he would serve his master and serve him well. In exchange he would learn from one of the greatest wizards in all Hellas. If he lived.

  Trepidation momentarily tore at him but he quickly choked it back, trepidation at being passed over by every mage during selections, every mage except one. Sure, some students didn’t get selected at all so Bel was happy when he found out he was picked but he wondered if not being chosen may have been better than being chosen by someone who everyone thought would get him killed. He had hoped that the rumors were not true and everything might turn out fine but still he lamented being chosen by Nes’egrinon, the great Nes’egrinon, who for all his legendary exploits had only ever taken two apprentices, two apprentices who it was said both died before they completed their training. Bel remembered the rumors. It was said that they died before making it out of their first year under his hand.

  Kerlith smirked then returned his attention to his teacher. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy that Bel was being ordered to fetch like one of the untrained. Bel didn’t flinch as he filled the cup but his mind quickly returned to that fateful night and how it had happened. His self-loathing for accepting Kerlith’s challenge at the Academy grabbed him anew, the challenge that resulted in him being held back when his fellow students graduated in their fifth year, at least the ones that made it that far. He hated being the only Sixth Year at the academy. But he was out now; everything was different; he was a wizard in training. He had to squeeze Kerlith and what he had done out of his mind.

  The old wizard continued, “So you think the stonecutters only speak truth, do you? That hasn’t been my experience.”

  Muolithnon replied, “Master Nes’egrinon, we should not argue about such things. The war is long over. We have a common problem and I would think that we could solve it.” The mage stepped a bit closer to the old man and said, “Let us make this grand bargain. We will travel past the Hinterlands, past the Keep of the stonecutters. Let us see what we shall see and if the rumors are true. Let’s find out if the stonecutters speak rightly or if it is just madness and drink and shadows. And the trees... let us see if what you, ah, hear is true. Yes, let’s see what abomination has caused all of this. If indeed it is the unspeakable then we will send out a sending for the others to join us.” Muolithnon spoke with a smile as if what he said was easy and common.

  Nes’egrinon’s eyes remained on the hearth. He replied, “And leave my forest unguarded?”

  Bel placed a full cup of water into Nes’egrinon’s aged, shaking hand.

  “Your western edge has seen no challenge for decades and your eastern edge is guarded by my borders, is it not?” The mage stopped smiling and rubbed the large stone pendant hanging from his neck. “I understand your c
oncern as I am dedicated to my charge as well. I am the mage of the eastern stone lands and I must do what I can to protect my people. That is why I implore you to come with me. Let us journey under the shadow of darkness. Let us find the source of this eternal night.”

  “Mmmmm. Now that’s what a cup of water should taste like.”

  Muolithnon pursed his lips. “Master archmage? Will you join me?”

  Nes’egrinon looked away from the fire and placed his piercing eyes on the mage. He was old; he remembered a time long before the magician who stood before him was even born, a time when their lands were at war, a time when many of his people died at the hands of the stonecutters. “Listen. I think your idea is stupid. I mean, on the surface it seems like the right thing to do. There are some problems over there so, ‘Hey let’s go check it out,’ but listen to me. No one knows when they are making a mistake until after they have already made it and it blows up in their face.” The old wizard paused then continued, “Well, maybe that’s not entirely true. Everyone knows that poking a dragon in the eye is a mistake. Yeah, I should have known better, but in general, we don’t know until it’s too late.” The old mage turned to Bel and said, “Fifth Year, attend to their horses. Muolithnon, please, you and your apprentice are welcome to stay the night here, but I cannot join you. My place is here at the edge of the Greenlands.”

  Bel wanted to stay and listen to the discussion but he knew he had to see to the horses so he went outside and called mage-light into his short staff. He had never heard masters disagree openly at Lasaat. He wanted to listen so he went to the horses hurriedly so that he might return and not miss too much.

  “Come horse, come.” Bel said as he untied the Gidran’s reins. He led the horse to the back of the hovel then filled the trough with water. Bel retrieved the pony, Kerlith’s horse, and tied it next to the large brown horse and placed some feed in their bags. As he walked back towards the front of the small structure he heard an unsettled neigh. The young boy returned quickly to check the horses, knowing that he was most assuredly missing all the best parts of the conversation inside. That stone mage doesn’t look like he is going to take no for an answer. Especially after traveling so far. And my new master, he sure doesn’t pull any punches, does he?

  He stroked the Gidran’s long nose and said, “What is it, boy?” His staff light shone in the horse’s face and suddenly Bel felt a shiver of fear. The horse was afraid. “It’s alright, horse. You have nothing to fear. We are on the edge of the forest. No men war here. And no gypsies would dare steal you. No, not with two of the great ones inside. Ha.” Bel laughed at the thought.

  Suddenly a rustling at the edge of the forest caught Bel’s ear. He had been here, at the mage Nes’egrinon’s home, for only a short time so he was not yet accustomed to the sounds and noises of this region. He did not know what creature of the night would make such a noise. It was dark. It was night. And Bel was a boy from the city. In the far horizon he could still see the fading sun but here it was the darkest night. Bel stood silent, peering into the forest, looking for the source of the noise.

  Probably squirrels, Bel thought. He remembered his forest training at Lasaat. Large animals such as deer or elk tended to be very quiet to avoid detection from predators while very small animals such as squirrels take the opposite approach, making large amounts of noise to scare off animals that would eat them.

  Bel stretched forth his mind and became one with all that was living as he often practiced at the Academy of Arts and Magic, calling the surrounding light to him, slowly coaxing it.

  “” Bel called out the mage-words softly as he caused light-desire to fill his being. Small beams of life streamed in from the surrounding darkness, gathering into increasing larger pinpoints around him. Bel smiled. He asked the lights to join, to become one, to enter the top of his short wooden staff, forming a ball of soft dancing light. Then he pointed the staff toward the forest.

  The horses pulled and bucked.

  “Calm down. Calm down.” Bel held his hand to the side of the Gidran’s neck and pushed peace into it. The horse shook his head in disagreement and blew air out of its mouth across its lips. The young pony pulled and shook also but Bel was less worried about it since it was not strong enough to break its reins.

  Red eyes appeared at the edge of the forest, low to the ground. Then another pair appeared, then another.

  “Hello, what’s this then?” Bel questioned out loud.

  The horses yanked again and again and Bel knew that they were pulling too hard for him to move them back to the front. He had to calm them down first.

  Bel pointed his staff straight and called out words in the mage-language. The ball of bouncing light sheltered in the curved end of his staff grew suddenly brighter then plodded out. As the flare slowly arced out of the staff and sailed across the small grassy opening and into the woods, it revealing about ten gray faces, their bodies crouching down at the edge of the woods, their crooked teeth exposed in snarls then the light quickly went out. Bel and the horses were enveloped in darkness.

  The horses buckled harder and the Gidran’s reins snapped. The large horse galloped away before Bel could grab at it. Gurgling noises surrounded Bel as the creatures emerged from the edge of the forest. Bel could not see them. He suppressed his fear and blindly tried to untie the heaving pony.

  The mage-words flowed out of him quickly, “” each time more desperately but the light did not come. His hands found the pony’s reins, stretched hard and taut, and he tugged on them, trying to create slack so he could free the small horse. It yanked and tugged, attempting to break free, squealing and wheezing fiercely. As Bel struggled with the reins in the dark he could feel an increasing presence surrounding him. They were surrounding him.

  “” No light came. It was as if all the life had been squeezed from the world.

  The pony bucked and heaved, neighing loudly, desperate to escape, yanking on the reins, trying to break them. Bel felt hands on his shoulders and arms and legs. Cold, probing hands touched his face and ran fingers in his hair. A wheezing dank breath was in his ears. They were all around him. Coldness surround Bel. He shivered hard and uncontrollably.

  “” Far off a tiny glimmer twinkled into the space, a dim flame, less than that of a single candle, but enough, just enough to see the gray faces of the creatures mounted on the pony, crawling all over it and standing around it, placing their gray hands in it. They were people, at least they looked like people, but their skin appeared gray and dead. An earthy, moldy, repugnant smell hung in the air; Bel snorted trying to escape the rancid odor. Then one of the gray creatures opened its mouth wide revealing rows of black teeth, looked at Bel, smiled gruesomely and slowly sunk his fangs into the young pony’s flesh.

  Bel howled, “Ghouls!” and sent power into his staff.

  “” A burst of energy sent a few of the close ghoul-kind flying high in the air and off into the woods. Bel loosed the pony but before he could get control of its reigns it pulled away and ran. He scampered back toward the front trying to convince himself that he actually saw what he thought he just saw. He had never seen a ghoul in person but the descriptions in the ancient histories at Lasaat were accurate enough. Ghouls! I can’t believe it! As he feverishly pushed to the front more ghoul-kind reached out toward him. He plowed through a pile of ice-cold hands and arms reaching out toward him, trying to slow him down and pull him away. He repelled them and ran in the dark around the edge of the hovel, trace echoes of what he just saw burnt into his vision. He rounded the front corner, flung open the door, leapt inside, slammed the door hard behind him and pressed his back against it. Wide eyed, he returned three questioning gazes.

  “There’s—there’s—there’s ghouls! Out there! In the forest! Ghouls. I saw them. In the forest.”

  Chapter 2

  Ghoul-kind

  Nes’egrinon looked up at Muolithnon, puzzled.
“Ghouls? Here? Is that possible?”

  “Aye,” Muolithnon replied somberly.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that ghoul-kind were about?”

  “I didn’t think you would believe me. I can barely believe it myself.”

  “Ghouls. Here.” Nes’egrinon shook his head. “It is hard to believe.”

  Muolithnon calmly explained, “The stonecutters first reported seeing one a few months ago. We investigated, thinking it nothing more than a child’s story or the rantings of those that sit too long at the inn, trying to frighten the barmaids.”

  “And?”

  Muolithnon added, “And we found nothing. No sign of ghouls, but for one thing. Stonecutters were disappearing from the quarries. Their master’s complained. Wanted us to track them, bring back their workers. We didn’t think they were related. Then we found the blood.”

  “How much?”

  “Not much. But it wasn’t hard to find. The death trails were open.”

  “I see,” Nes’egrinon said pensively.

  “But Nes’egrinon, honestly, I did not expect them here. I wonder if they followed us.”

  “Huh.”

  Muolithnon stood and pulled his vest tight then addressed his apprentice, “Kerlith. Come. Let us see how your training holds up.”

  Kerlith grinned at Bel and rolled the stone medallion hanging from his neck with his thumb and index finger as small red flames danced around it. Bel stepped out of their path and placed questioning eyes on Nes’egrinon.

  The aged mage struggled from his chair, retrieved his tall staff and hobbled to the door. “Ghouls, huh? And in my forest no less. Let’s have a look see, I suppose.” Stepping through the single entry to his one room shack, he turned to Bel and said, “Now you stay put. I haven’t even had a chance to talk to you yet. Don’t want you getting killed before I’ve had a chance to tell you how this is all going to go.”

 

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