Forgotten

by J L Terra

  Creation had long since been given over to evil, and now it penetrated every part of this world. So many people simply gave themselves up to it, unconcerned that there existed another life to be lived, different than one laced with destruction. Those who did fight, who tried to stand against this present darkness, were battered and war weary.

  And then there was Bryn.

  She had looked evil in the face over and over again. The Druid had twisted her mind until she couldn’t tell reality from fantasy. And in realizing this, the last remaining piece of Daire’s heart had torn to shreds. Now there was nothing left but his duty to see this done. To see her safe. There was no hope for the future. No promise of happiness ahead. Only darkness swirling around them.

  Death walked on tiny feet between the trees.

  The dragon stalked beneath the earth looking for someone to devour. Last time Daire had barely escaped. Torn to shreds. Burned beyond recognition. It had taken him a decade to heal.

  And down in that rend in the earth, was the tree.

  He held her tighter then, his front pressed to her back. Two people clinging to each other. Standing together amid this swarming mass of evil pressing in. He wanted desperately to believe there was good ahead for her. That her life would be restored from the destruction she knew right now. But to be honest, he didn’t know if that was possible.

  “We have to go down there.”

  Bryn’s hair brushed his face as she glanced around. “Those children.”

  They were dead, but he didn’t want to say that aloud. They had seen the dead walk again, and it had been nothing but more evil done by the Druid. Bryn had broken so much already that he didn’t want to add to it. He wanted her to be safe, but she never would be if he didn’t face down the Druid. If he didn’t walk the path Providence had set before him.

  No matter that it meant, he would be going up against darkness. Evil. Death. He had fought against those things his whole life. And now, at the end, he would do it one last time. Because Daire knew now how this was going to end. The All Tree, the tree of life. Not the source of life on earth, but a creation, just like any other living thing.

  It contained power—the essence of that original world which had been called good. If the Druid really managed to take that away, what would remain to stem the tide against the flood of evil? The tree didn’t keep the evil at bay. But could the world afford to lose something that still held that original essence?

  In Norse mythology, the tree separated the nine realms by a bridge that kept all the worlds in place. Take down that connection and there would be nothing but chaos. Collision. Destruction.

  What the implications were, he didn’t know. No one did. Providence knew the world could not lose this tree, regardless of what might happen if it was destroyed.

  Daire didn’t think he would survive it. He also knew there was nothing else he could do but face it down. He had to stand between the Druid and the end of the world, just as he had been doing for millennia.

  Whether he lived or died, Providence would remain. Daire trusted the creator, the author of this world he walked in. He trusted his King to make right what had been wrong. To fix what was broken in Bryn, and to give her a future.

  The mist swirled around them still. Thick and frozen, they managed to move with a breeze that came from nowhere. Tiny droplets hung suspended, embedded in the atmosphere. No way through. No way out.

  He wanted to tell her to stay above ground. But there was nowhere she would be safe. Not with the mist.

  They had to go down.

  “Come on.” He shifted forward. It took Bryn a second to fight past whatever occupied her mind, but she moved her feet. They walked, still in their embrace. “We do this together.”

  He felt the breath she took. The shaky way she exhaled. “Together.” Her voice was soft.

  The edge of the earth sloped. Each step they took sank into soft ground. A few steps in, Bryn started to slide. Daire moved so his weight didn’t add force to her fall. She grasped his hand and held on, tighter than he’d have thought she’d be able to. The earth moved beneath them. He took another step, but they continued sliding. Dirt and rocks shifted down. Were they going to careen to the bottom of whatever this was and hit it too fast to survive?

  Bryn screamed. Daire bit back the words and sounds that wanted to escape from his mouth. They picked up speed. He lifted his boots up to keep from sinking. Bryn grabbed his arm with her other hand and wrapped her fingers around his bicep. She moved closer to him and stumbled. He pulled her in and tried to edge toward the side. Extending his arm, palm out, he scraped the cliff face of dirt, roots, and jagged rocks.

  The wave of earth broke on the floor of the tunnel. Bryn jumped huge steps. He did the same. They waded out, then kept going. Getting out of the way of the settling dirt. His palm stung, but he didn’t look at the damage.

  Sunlight dimmed as the dirt continued to rain down from where they’d been standing just a moment ago. Earth piled up at the bottom of a sink hole. It grew to the surface as more and more earth piled in. Sunlight became dimmer and dimmer, and then everything went black.

  They were sealed down here.

  Bryn whimpered into the darkness. Daire reached out and grabbed her hand, linking their fingers together.

  What was the point in trying to convince her this wasn’t a dream? If he really was a character in her delusion, then nothing had changed. He’d been born to serve a master. Life had taught him which one was worth following. Daire was honored to work on His behalf.

  This wasn’t a figment of Bryn’s imagination, as much as she might want to believe it. And even though it wouldn’t cure what was broken in her, it might be better for her to think she was imagining all this.

  Either way, he had the Druid to stop and a world to save.

  He hadn’t wanted Bryn there in case she got hurt. But at least having her beside him meant he could stand between her and whatever came for her. In their dream, the dragon had dragged her away from him. Side by side now, they would face it together. The moment he sensed it happening, he would save her as well as the rest of the world.

  He hadn’t been brought this far just to fail.

  Daire felt along the wall as he walked, Bryn right there with him. The cuts on his palm made themselves known. He ignored the pain. They had no flashlight, and it was completely dark.

  “Is this the way?”

  “Your song opened the door,” he said. “And there’s only one tunnel.”

  “How do you know that when we can’t see a thing?”

  “When we come to a fork in the tunnel, we’ll reassess.” Until then, they were both on the same path. Together.

  Daire prayed as he walked, beseeching Providence to give him the knowledge he would need to destroy the Druid.

  The distant rumble of the dragon sounded. He felt Bryn’s footsteps falter beside him and squeezed her hand. “Come on. We aren’t going to stop.”

  “What if I want to? What if I’d like nothing more than to curl up in a ball right here and quit?”

  “That’s what you’re going to do with your life?” She hadn’t given up yet. She’d faced down each experience. Not without being beaten and battered, and questioning her sanity. But now she was here again. “You’re going to quit?”

  “Quitting sounds good.” Stubbornness laced her tone. “And a nap sounds even better. Maybe I can snooze a bit before that dragon shows up and I’m char-grilled lunchmeat.”

  “I don’t recommend lying around, waiting for death to come.” That certainly wasn’t something he could stomach.

  “That’s because your end isn’t the same as mine.”

  She was right. He said, “Yes, our paths are different. We’re destined for different things.” In this life, and the next. “But that doesn’t mean you should give up. You can change your path.”

  “I’m too tired to fight it.” She tugged on his hand until he turned.

  He couldn’t see her but her presence was there none
theless.

  “Even if I wanted to change what I’m destined for, what’s the point?”

  “You’d rather succumb to death...when you could have so much life?”

  She huffed. “All that life doesn’t feel like much right now.”

  He tugged her closer, knowing that in a way she already had surrendered. “And if I told you that your end could be so much better? That it could be life. Happiness.” At least, that was what he wanted for her.

  He felt the shift as she shook her head. “That’s not for me.”

  “It could be. Couldn’t it?” Why not?

  “Don’t dangle that in front of me just to get me to rally one last time,” she said. “I don’t need false hope. Not now, when so much has passed, and I’m so close to the end.” She paused. “I just want to be free of all this darkness and death.”

  Daire didn’t know what to say to convince her of all the light he knew. He’d seen so much in his dreams. So many years had passed while he’d been walking this earth. What was beyond had always seemed out of his grasp. Now? It was so close he could almost touch it.

  “Please don’t give up,” he pleaded. “Hang on with me just a little longer. Trust that this is the path we’re both supposed to be on.”

  “I’m not like you. I don’t have that strength.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “So it’s magic?” Her voice turned mocking.

  “No magic. Just a power that isn’t mine.”

  She moved then and pulled her hand from his. Daire followed the sound of her footsteps and kept pace with her as she walked. So determined not to believe what he understood as easily as he breathed. She said, “What if it’s just another truth that’s been distorted, like all the others?”

  “It’s not my job to argue you into believing, Bryn. That isn’t faith. You have to find it for yourself by searching and asking the right questions, knowing that you have no power of your own and admitting that you need help.”

  “Sure,” she replied. “If I have time to do that.”

  “You have time.”

  She sighed.

  The rumble of the dragon was closer now.

  “Even with everything that’s happened to you, you still trust in this…Providence? You still think you’ll come out good in the end?”

  “Whether the world is destroyed or not,” he said. “But I have to believe it will be saved. And it’s because of what’s happened and everything I’ve seen that I know this. Not in spite of it.”

  “Maybe Providence doesn’t care if it’s destroyed. He can just make a new world, right?”

  “True,” Daire said. “But that doesn’t line up with the end we know is coming.”

  “Because of the Bible?” Her question had a mocking tone. “Don’t even get me started on a book that men have been translating and rewriting and paraphrasing to say what they want it to say, for all the years you’ve been alive. Not everyone gets to meet Him like you did.”

  “Truth is still truth.”

  “That’s the easy answer. What about people who are born into a different belief system who live their entire lives, only to die still believing in something you think is wrong?”

  “We all face the same end. The same scale. And we are all measured by it.”

  “Then I’m in big trouble,” she said. “Because if that dragon gets any closer, I’m going to be on the fast track. With no way to change the outcome.”

  Daire pulled her behind him. He drew his sword and listened.

  “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

  “Where is your armor?” he asked. “Your sword?”

  “That’s not the point, is it?”

  “Semantics doesn’t change the fact that I’m here,” he said. “And I’m not going to let anything happen to—”

  She grunted. Her body slammed into his back and knocked them both forward. He swung to hold her with one arm while he brought his sword arm around. The tip of the blade clipped the wall.

  Fire erupted at the end of the tunnel. A ball of flames that lit everything orange. So bright, Daire had to shut his eyes as the heat rolled toward them.

  Bryn turned and ran.

  Daire raced after her. “Bryn!” They had to stay together. “Bryn, wait!”

  She didn’t slow. Her shrieks drifted back to him as he fought to catch up. The tunnel went dark. She slowed, and he reached her.

  Flames came again. Closer this time. In front of them.

  She screamed and turned to grasp his jacket with her clenched fingers. Before he could wrap his free arm around her, she was tugged from him.

  Pulled away.

  Bryn screamed his name. Flames filled the tunnel. He reached out but grasped only air.

  It was happening. He hadn’t been able to stop her from being taken.

  He saw the great form of the dragon behind her as she was pulled away. Too fast for him to catch her.

  “Bryn!”

  He saw her fight to focus on him. Daire didn’t think. He just prayed a silent plea and threw the hilt of his sword.

  She caught it.

  And then she was gone.

  Daire raced in the direction the dragon had taken her. Down the tunnel, around the corner. He found nothing but darkness.

  The path in front of him, empty.

  Chapter 33

  Daire raced after her. Bryn’s screams echoed down the hallway, but he refused to admit defeat. He pumped his arms and legs and prayed she’d use the sword. He didn’t like being without it, but what was the alternative?

  The dragon roared. Daire rounded a corner and clipped the wall that angled in faster than he’d been expecting. His breath expelled in an “oof,” and he kept going. Panting hard, he ran as fast as he could. Desperation dragged him down, attempting to swallow him under its murky depths. A sob broke free and echoed off the walls. Daire sniffed hard, still running, as he fought the urge to give in to the despair. Trying as hard as he could to push away the encroaching wave.

  Bryn’s screams grew louder. The tunnel narrowed, and he turned another corner. It opened up ahead, so he stopped and huddled against the wall. Watching. Waiting.

  “Bryn.” He breathed her name. Another prayer, another cry for help.

  She cried out and the sound echoed through the walls of a cavern.

  Flames flashed, the light so bright after the virtual darkness of the tunnels. He lifted one hand and shielded his face. The dragon roared. Bryn whimpered, and he moved to the mouth of the tunnel to look out.

  The dragon was the size of a school bus in body. Its wedge-shaped head was wide. Its tail thick and long as it swished back and forth. The dragon stalked to the far end of the cavern. Light reflected off the scales layered all over its leathery body, interspersed by thick scars and chunks of missing flesh—as though pieces had been chewed off. Injury, or self-inflicted?

  This thing was centuries old. Something else originally good that had been appropriated by evil—until only a shadow remained of what it once was. Daire could hear each exhale push out its nostrils, along with a rush of hot air that tickled hair across his forehead.

  Bryn whimpered again.

  Daire stepped out. “Hey!” He yelled the word as loud as he could.

  The dragon stopped its forward progress.

  Daire walked along its flank. “Over here!”

  He needed Bryn to throw back the sword or this was going to end with him having some chunks of his own missing.

  The dragon turned its head in an arc and repositioned its front legs. It stared down at Daire from ten feet above and eyed him like a mid-morning snack.

  “Remember me?” The thing probably didn’t understand him, let alone match him to the boy he had nearly destroyed so long ago. But that wasn’t the point. He needed its attention. “Bryn, can you get to me?”

  “Maybe.”

  Hearing her voice was like balm on a wound. “I need my sword.”

  The dragon stepped closer to Daire. Inhaled. That narrowed bl
ack gaze pinned him to the spot. He dared not move. He had no idea what to do other than try to hurt it and then run. Get far enough away they could lose it in the tunnels and hopefully not be scented. Tracked.

  Burned.

  Eaten.

  The idea of hurting it didn’t sit well with Daire. He’d hunted animals before, but this creature now inching its head closer and closer while Daire stood still and waited for Bryn to emerge was a wounded animal. This one might have even been tortured.

  It almost didn’t seem right to add to its injuries. But what else could they do? If it came down to him and Bryn being killed versus distracting the dragon with another injury, he knew which he would choose.

  The dragon didn’t deserve to die. But it wasn’t like Daire could persuade it to be nice. Or ask if it was simply trying to live out its days in peace.

  Maybe it couldn’t die. Like him.

  Maybe it wanted to. Like the Druid.

  Bryn rounded the edge of the cavern, his sword in one hand. The blade was wet with a dark liquid more purple than red. Had she already wounded it? Her eyes were wide, her face pale with fear. Maybe she was worried this was only a hallucination. More wary of her mind’s ability to create situations such as this, rather than the reality they were faced with.

  He’d also wonder if he was hallucinating, if not for the vividness. Bryn had to know this was real.

  He felt a drop of sweat roll down the center of his back, beneath his T-shirt. The tightness of one boot, laces pulled tauter than the other so that the difference was noticeable. Those tiny details convinced him this wasn’t a hallucination. And it definitely wasn’t Bryn’s hallucination.

  Whether she would believe him or not was another question.

  The dragon inhaled. The rush of air headed toward the dragon and whipped at his jacket. Daire tensed. He knew what would come next.

  He stepped toward Bryn, itching to run. Could he meet her halfway, or would the dragon burn him to a crisp?

  He saw doom approach like a flash of prescience that could only come from Providence.