Elwin readied himself. His muscles tensed. Then he froze. A wind whipped through the open doors. The inn grew suddenly very cold. A figure appeared in the doorway. Cast in the dark shadows of the stormy night, the figure looked like a wrath that had risen from the dead. Covering a tall skeleton like body was a blood red robe that snapped in the wind. Moving with an almost graceful stride, as if it never touched the floor, the figure stepped into the light of the room. Cloaked in its red robe, the figure hid its face beneath the shadows of a large hood. Only the reflection of his eyes could be seen in the light of the inn. Around his neck and attached to a golden chain hung a ruby the size of a man's fist. Another gust of wind blew through the doors. Carried on the wind, snow whirled and twisted around the figure. Like a burning flame, the robe flapped in the cold wind. Then as if by command, the doors slammed shut. The room fell silent.
Terrified, Elwin could not move.
The crackling fire sputtered and went out as if it had been drenched in cold water. Wide-eyed and helpless, Elwin stared at the figure.
"A Red Robe," someone nearby breathed.
Elwin shivered. A Nightling! He could almost feel a dark aura radiating from the monk. The strangely gleaming eyes within the dark hood stared out at Elwin, and Elwin knew it was him that it wanted. Even the hard-faced sergeant looked frightened as he took a step away from the Red Robe. The sergeant then pointed at Elwin. "That's him, my Lord."
But the Red Robe already knew it. His search had ended. The monk nodded to himself. His master would be pleased. It had all been so easy.
Elwin could feel the cold eyes bearing down upon him. Cold and deathlike, the eyes of the monk reached out across the room.
"Come!" boomed the Red Robe's cold voice. A voice that sounded as if it had been spoken from within a tunnel. It echoed in Elwin's ears and felt as if some web was being wrapped around him.
Elwin trembled at the sound.
"Come to me," the Nightling repeated.
Elwin had no intention of obeying the Red Robe. He scanned the room, looking desperately for an escape. Then a cold hand seemed to wrap around Elwin's heart. Finding it hard to breathe, Elwin looked back at the Red Robe. "Come!"
Feeling the cold hand pull upon him, Elwin suddenly found himself standing.
"Come!" The Red Robe repeated. Slowly and deliberately, he drew back his hood, revealing the face that had been hidden within the shadows. The face was deathly pale; a face that spent its time hidden from the sun, and had lost its color. The eyes that were locked upon Elwin were as black as the night. His head was shaved clean, making his features intense and unforgettable. With his death-like face and fiercely dark eyes, he appeared to be some type of wrath risen from his grave.
“Come, my Prince. Our master waits.”
Upon the chest of the Red Robe, the ruby started glowing.
Magic! Elwin knew the monk was using some type of magic to control him. Trying to break the bonds that held him, Elwin resisted. But the bonds were too strong. To his horror, he took a step towards the monk. He could feel the Nightling's voice. The voice burned within him. The cold hand reached deeper and touched his soul. With the touch came a burning pain. The inn began to blur.
Jon was suddenly on his feet. Elwin tried to force his eyes to focus. Helplessly, Elwin watched Jon race towards the Red Robe. It was as though he was looking through a thick fog. Jon bellowed out some type of war cry that Elwin could not quite hear. Racing forward, Jon raised a chair high above his head. He had only gone a few feet before the monk lifted a bony white hand. The Red Robe pointed a single finger at Jon. The big fisherman dropped his chair and was lifted from his feet.
"Fool!" growled the monk.
With a look of horror, Jon was hovering two feet above the floor. Then the monk flicked his wrist, and Jon was flown backward. Crashing against the wall, Jon's limp body sank to the floor. The monk's gaze drifted across the room. No one moved. Slowly, the Nightling turned back to Elwin. A thin smile came across his death-like face.
"Come!" he demanded once more.
Elwin felt the hand pull upon his heart, but this time, he held his ground. Sweat ran down Elwin's face. Within him, the voice of the Red Robe grew stronger. The burning pain increased. He thought his heart was going to burst. Driven by the pain, Elwin took another step. The pain seemed to lessen.
"Come!"
Again, Elwin resisted, and the pain returned. The dark eyes seemed to reach out across the room, piercing Elwin with waves of searing pain. The inn began to fade away. The sounds of the inn grew dimmer and dimmer. A strange dark mist rose from the floor. Through the mist, Elwin could see people moving, but they seemed to be moving very slowly and very far away. Then everything except the monk disappeared into the mist. The face and the dark, blood-red robe of the monk had vanished also. Naked, the Nightling stood before Elwin, revealing its true self. The monk was a creature of darkness that was clothed in the skin of a human; however, there was nothing human about it. The Nightling was a monster that had stepped out of the darkest of nightmares. Its flesh glowed like red-hot coals on a windy day. Its skin changed from black to red, then back to black again. Its eyes were like dark pits of emptiness that could swallow you up with no hope of ever returning. In the monk's eyes was the promise of death. The hand upon Elwin's heart began to tighten. Cold fingers squeezed, forcing Elwin's pounding heart began to slow. Those fingers were killing Elwin’s heart, squeezing out his life. The raging fire that burned painfully inside him grew hotter and hotter. Pain swept through his body. Elwin opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out.
"Come," demanded the Nightling. “Time is being wasted. Our master is impatient to meet you.”
Elwin shook with pain.
"Come!" it spoke.
The pain was unbearable. Elwin stepped forward. With each step, the pain lessened. Elwin no longer thought of the danger or what stood before him. He only thought of going forward. It hurt less than it did to resist, and he just wanted the tormenting pain to end.
As the pain grew less intense, the voice of the creature changed. The monk's voice now came as a soft whisper. "Come rest."
Yes, thought Elwin, rest. Rest would be welcome. Yes, I need some sleep. The pain lessened.
"Peace at last,” called the Monk, “How sweet it would all be to sleep, to rest. Elwin, look into my eyes. I will lead you. Come with me. It is time to go, it is time to sleep. Your new master awaits you." The voice of the monk was transformed into a soft, singsong rhythm within Elwin’s mind.
Elwin felt the last of the burning fire leave him. His head began to swim, and his mind slipped towards a black void. The soft voice pulled him into the calm of the dark world. He felt so tired. If only I could close my eyes for a second, he thought, then I could sleep, if only for a....
"No!" called another voice. The new voice seemed to come from a faraway place. "You must fight!"
Fight? Elwin wondered. Why should I fight? What is there to fight?
"Sleep," came the Red Robe's soothing voice, "Rest."
Elwin could now feel the other voice also. It had a familiar feeling to it. The voice grew, and it did not want him to sleep. That bothered the prince. Elwin wanted to sleep so very much. At first, Elwin tried not to listen, but the voice would not go away. It kept telling him to fight, to resist the other voice. Elwin started to become confused. The fog thinned a little.
"Sleep!" called the monk with a note of urgency.
Suddenly, Elwin saw the glowing red coals of the monk's flesh. Its distorted face was close to his own.
"Fight it!" came the other voice. It sounded so familiar. Suddenly Elwin could see clearly. Fear rushed back into him. He was dying! The Nightling was killing him! The Red Robe, with its cold searing hands, was pulling him into a dark pit. He was turning Elwin into a type of Nightling creature,… dead but not truly dead.
"NO!" he shouted, struggling to free himself. The last of the fog lifted and the sounds of the inn rushed back to life. Elwin heard shouts and
the sound of fighting. The Druid, Faynn, was standing in the doorway. Elwin grabbed for his sword. If he were going to die, then he would do so fighting. The hilt felt strangely warm in his hand. The sword was halfway out of its sheath when Elwin heard someone shout.
"Stop him!"
Hands seemed to grab Elwin from all directions. The half-drawn sword fell back into its sheath. He fought with all his strength, but he could not break free. The hands grabbing him were too strong. A bright light erupted, and then the world went black.
CHAPTER FIVE
Elwin opened his eyes. Lying on his back and staring into a black void, he blinked.
Still, there was only darkness around him. Vaguely, he remembered something about the Dryrot Inn. There had been a struggle, and someone had tried to kill him, but his mind was in a fog, and he could not think clearly. He placed his hand upon his forehead. It was hot with fever. Am I dead? Elwin wondered. Can you be sick when you're dead? Trying to think, Elwin lied still. Shivering and aching, the fever clouded his mind, making it hard to focus. If I am dead, where am I? Since there was nothing to see, he closed his eyes and tried to recall what had happened. Slowly, Elwin remembered. Trembling, he recalled the image of the Nightling. The creature with its burning flesh was etched upon his memory. Elwin knew that the face of the monk would haunt him for the rest of his life: that was if he were still alive. The last thing he could remember was the distorted face of the monk. The monk had held him with its burning hands. The Nightling's dark, lifeless eyes had stared into his. Elwin almost screamed as he remembered the searing pain. The Red Robe has dragged me into this darkness. If I am not dead, I soon will be.
"No," he said weakly, shaking his head. His voice sounded shaky and weak, but things were starting to become clearer. I remember something else... people yelling and fighting, and then there was that bright light. And I don't feel dead... at least, I don't think I do. Not that I know what dead feels like.
Turning onto his side, Elwin began to see a light. It was only a thin line of light, but it was a light. Any light in this dark world was a welcome gift. He stared at the sliver of light.
Slowly, his eyes became adjusted. He sighed. The light was coming from beneath a door. Elwin realized that the darkness around him was not the abyss he feared, but only that of the night. Relieved at discovering he was alive, Elwin tried to sit up. As he did so, his head began to throb, groaning, the young man fell back. Laying there with his pounding head, Elwin wished he had died. Taking-in long deep breaths, he noticed that the throbbing slowly decreased. Soon, the young man drifted back off to sleep.
Elwin dreamt he was walking in the green, lush woods just south of Acair. Acair was his home, where he had always felt safe. The warm sun was beating down on his back. At his side was his father, King Artair. Smiling, his father looked down at him. Elwin could hear birds singing in the trees. Squirrels scampered and played across the ground and over fallen trees. Elwin felt happy. Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the peaceful world began to crumble away. A dark cloud rolled overhead. A thunderbolt cracked. The wind died, and the woods grew deathly quiet.
"What is happening?" Elwin asked his father.
"It is coming," Artair replied. "Stay strong and true, my son."
"What is coming?"
"The dark days. I am so sorry, my son. I should have warned you. I hoped you would be spared, but now the burden is full upon you. Still, remember that you have all that you need to survive. Believe in yourself, and you will overcome the darkness."
"I don't understand."
"In time, you will."
"Let's go home. I am frightened."
Elwin's father did not respond. The king's eyes were looking at something behind Elwin.
Feeling an evil presence, Elwin spun around. There he saw a figure cloaked in a blood red robe, a Nightling. Elwin tried to warn his father, but when he turned the king was gone. Elwin was alone. Frantically, he looked for his father. "Father!" He yelled. "Help me!" But the king was nowhere to be seen. Terrified and alone, Elwin turned and ran from the monk.
Leaping over dead logs and crashing through branches, Elwin ran with a desperate energy. However, he could not escape the Nightling. Every time he looked back, there was the Nightling with his robes blowing and twisting behind him. As he ran, Elwin could hear the cruel laughter of the creature echoing through the trees. He could feel his hot breath upon the back of his neck. Before Elwin's eyes, the beautiful forest was transformed into a black and menacing world. Twisted trees withered and died, becoming lifeless hulks. Strange creatures with glowing eyes stared out of the shadows, watching him pass. Cries echoed hauntingly through the darkness. Elwin ran on.
"You cannot hide from me," a strange new voice called out of the darkness. "I have touched your soul, Elwin. Through my servant, I have tasted the sweetness of your soul. You can never hide from me again. Elwin, I can feel what you feel. See what you see. Hear what you hear. We are linked together. You know it is true. There is no place you can run to that I cannot follow."
Somehow Elwin knew the voice was not the Nightling's voice. The voice was cold, but it was not that of the Red Robe. "Elwin, do you know where your sister is? I do. If you do not come to me, I will go after her. She will not resist me. She will do my bidding. She will take your place at my side."
"NO!" Elwin shouted. He stopped running and turned around. He drew his sword and held it tightly in his sweaty hands. He was filled with a burning rage. He wanted to kill whoever was talking. "Leave Leina alone!" He demanded. Elwin did not understand what the cold voice meant by Leina taking his place, but there was an unmistakable threat to the speaker's tone. Elwin lifted his blade high over his head and then stopped.
The Red Robed, the Nightling was gone, but the voice went on echoing through the dead, lifeless trees. "Good. You see, I know you well. In the end, you will come to me. You will bring me what I want, what I need. If not of your own free will, then you will come to protect those you love. Love is such a weakness, such a useless emotion. It will bring you to me."
"Where are you!?"
"Can you feel it, Elwin? We have touched. We are connected. You cannot escape. Come to me. You have no choice. Our destinies are linked. Together we will be powerful, and the world will bow before us. It can all be yours. With power, you can protect the ones you love. Come to me Elwin, and the world will be ours."
"Who are you!?" Elwin screamed. For several seconds, his voice echoed through the silent forest.
"I am your friend, Elwin. My name is Torcull, the Prophet, and servant of the Great One. Through my monk, we have touched, Elwin. I did not mean for him to hurt you. The Nightlings are difficult to control at times. Believe me, Elwin, I only wanted to talk to you. I am deeply sorry if the monk has hurt or frightened you. However, my monk has now made it possible for us to talk. Come to me. There is no need to fear. Together we will set the Great One free. He has been wrongfully imprisoned for too long. He will be grateful, and together we will be powerful. It is the only way you can save your sister."
"I know your name. Y … you are the one that brought back the Severed Head!" There was surprise and fear in Elwin's faltering voice. "You are the one who has caused the wars, the pain, and the suffering!"
"I have restored the Cult of the Severed Head, the servants to the Great One. I have brought them forth to help liberate the Master of Life. But I have not caused the wars, Elwin. It is the ignorance of the world that has brought on the pain the world now faces. The Great One will heal the world and make it whole again. “Elwin, search your heart. It will tell you that I speak the truth. It is others that seek to deceive you.”
Once again, Elwin felt a cold hand wrap tightly around his heart. However, this time, there was no pain. The hand was simply there, holding onto him, connecting him to Torcull. Torcull was telling the truth. They were linked, Elwin could feel it. Elwin could sense that there was truth to Torcull’s words. Elwin did not know how to explain it, but he could feel the truth in them.
Yet at the same time, he knew that this self-proclaimed Prophet was hiding much more. There was a darkness that was being hidden from him. At one moment Torcull would try and seduce him. The very next moment he would threaten Elwin.
"NO!" he screamed, but he could not shake off the hand upon his heart. “I won’t listen to you!”
Elwin tried to run, but the hand of Torcull held him fast. "Come. I want to show you something,"
The dark forest suddenly disappeared. Elwin blinked. He was now standing in a barren and dead plain. Low rolling hills spread out as far as he could see. Here and there a lifeless tree reached up out of the earth like a lost citadel for a land that once had been alive. Their branches, now darkened as if a fire had scorched them clean of their leaves, reached heavenwards. The black branches of the dead trees appeared as if they were frozen in time. Now, the unmoving trees stood silently, mourning the death of the land around them. Other than the trees, there was no sign that life had ever existed in this vast and empty land. Above, dark clouds blotted out the sun, creating a uniformed grayness to this sad world. Elwin pulled his cloak tightly around him, as a cold wind whistled across the lifeless landscape. Listening, Elwin almost thought he could hear words within the cold wind. To the young and frightened prince, the voices in the wind sounded like the soulful song of mourners. There was a great loss and sadness in the strange song that reached out to him. Then in the distance, Elwin saw a towering castle made of black stone. Rising out of the earth, the castle looked as dead as the land around it. It cast a dark and menacing silhouette against the horizon, and it appeared to be even darker than the land around it. It was a great wound upon the earth, and it was the focal point of the landscape Elwin now found himself. To the prince, it felt as if it were some great stone parasite as if it were feeding upon the earth itself, draining it of its life and power.
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