Devouring Darkness
Page 56
Garen stood on the lower slope of Mount Sorrow and inspected their progress. A small cluster of black stones sat nestled against the foot of the black mountain. In just a week’s time, they had constructed a dozen rough homes out of the heavy, black stone of the mountain. The crude, squat buildings weren’t much to look at, but they provided protection from the deadly, chilling caress of the wind that swept across the barren land.
These people are strong, most of them were born here in this world and have never known the taste of freedom, but they were all hungry for it. Now that they’ve had it, I know that they will fight to keep it.
Over 100 souls had been thrust by fate into his bloodstained hands, and the weight of them was staggering. Never had so many lives depended directly on him; his every decision had become vitally important. His choices determined whether any or all of them would survive in the harsh, desolate world of The Nightlands, but he refused to abandon them.
Several of the slaves that had come from The World of Light were talking again, convinced that, at least for the moment, their freedom was secure. Of the three men and four women that were able to speak, one man proved to be an invaluable asset, a man named Rissem.
Though he was well past 70, Rissem was stubbornly strong with the body of a much younger man. When he’d still lived in The World of Light, Rissem had been a blacksmith of extraordinary skill. In the decade since his capture, much of his skill had been lost, but the elderly man remembered enough of his craft to instruct the other slaves on basic metal working.
The silver and gold veins that ran through almost all of the black stone provided ample amounts of ore and Garen gladly helped them melt the metals down to form weapons. As the villagers crafted rough weapons and armor, Garen began to see that he'd been right about them; it was obvious that they were all willing to lay down their lives to protect their freedom.
Leaving the villagers to their various tasks of moving stone, fashioning weapons, and gathering food, Garen began his ascent up the side of Mount Sorrow. He swiftly worked his way up the rugged slope to a place that he had visited every evening for the past seven days: Temin’s grave.
As he arrived at it, however, he could tell something was wrong. He caught the lingering scent of someone or something that seemed unnatural in the air and his brow furrowed into a scowl. Quickly, he circled around the sarcophagus and saw that his suspicion was well founded.
“Who would do this?” he asked aloud in disbelief.
One entire side of the sarcophagus lay on the ground a short ways from the rest of the stone structure. His eyes narrowed as he saw that the cut was perfectly clean, there wasn’t any evidence along the edge to show what had made the cut. He could easily recognize the tell-tale signs of both his own demonic energy and the light of a lightwielder, but he saw nothing from either of them.
It looks like someone simply used an impossibly sharp blade and sliced the side off... wait, the body’s missing!
Unsure of how he could’ve missed it before, Garen stared wide-eyed at the sarcophagus’s empty interior. Anger welled up inside him as he thought of the brave lightwielder’s body taken from its place of rest for an unknown purpose.
With only a single, sharp sniff, he sensed a faint trail leading down the mountainside away from his newly formed village of freed slaves and he yearned to follow the body thief. Responsibility tugged at him, however, before he could take more than a few steps. He knew that if he left to follow the body thief, then the villagers would be in grave danger. Biting back his hatred and anger, he forced himself to turn away and walk back toward the village, but not before taking one more deep breath and committing the unknown scent to memory.
“For your sake, you’d better hope you never return to this place or it will be you in that sarcophagus,” he stated gravely with only the wind to hear his threat.
Garen walked slowly on his way back down the mountain. At first, he was consumed by a desire to hunt down and kill the one responsible for desecrating the lightwielder’s body, but as the anger began to fade his thoughts became scattered and unfocused. So many things had occurred in such a short period of time that Garen felt as if he should be overwhelmed, but he instead felt calm.
Nothing can undo what has been done to me and the others, but with perseverance, we will carve out a place in this world. My only true regret is that all this: my powers, Cassandra’s safety, and the villagers freedom, had to come at such a steep price.
Work stopped as he walked into the village and all eyes turned to him. At first he thought that perhaps he’d done something wrong, but that illusionary fear was shattered instantly as a deafening cheer rang out from all of the villagers.
“Gar-en, Gar-en, Gar-en, Gar-en,” chanted the villagers energetically. Most of them had trouble pronouncing his name, but it was obvious that they were trying hard despite their lack of vocal skills. The loud cheering continued for nearly a minute before finally dwindling back down to silence. As the cheering was dying down, he became aware of a familiar, smoky voice that rose above the others.
“It seems that Rissem has taught the others the name of their hero,” Cassandra explained. “For most of these people, this is the first word they’ve ever spoken; such is their gratitude to you.”
“I don’t deserve all this,” he said blushing slightly, “any of it.”
“You don’t? You gave these people their freedom. You gave them their lives, and they all rightfully see you as a hero, a champion for those that cannot fight for themselves.”
“I’m not a hero, I’m just a man.”
“Not anymore, you are The Darkstar, a demon prince of The Nightlands, and these,” she said with a sweeping gesture of her hand, “are your loyal subjects.”
“And you?”
“I’m simply tired of running,” she teased with a sly smile.
“Well then,” Garen said as he lifted her off her feet, “I’ll have to make sure that you never have to run again.”
“I could get used to that.”
PRONUNCIATION GUIDE
Amendaru (ah-men-dar-ooh)
Anedae (ah-neh-day)
Aurastur (oar-ah-stu-er)
Babossa (bah-boh-sah)
Baeliosen (bay-lee-oh-sen)
Cero (seh-row)
Cymiael (sim-I-ale)
Ducahn (dew-kahn)
Garen (gare-en)
Gormum (gore-mum)
Lumin (loo-men)
Marighast (may-rih-gast)
Orlon (or-lohn)
Orzyrus (or-zye-russ)
Rin (rihn)
Temin (teh-men)
Xenetaer (zen-eh-tay-er)
Aevea (A-vee-ah)
Seteal (seh-teal)
Gallovine (gal-oh-vine)
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