Past of Shadows

by Colleen Connally

Eight Arachnidan soldiers morphed immediately on the sight of him.

  There were no cries of pain, no slowing of their movements. Effortlessly, the Arachnidans changed their skin to become reddish-brown ants with large black pinchers, charging on their back legs with heavy long axes.

  Not giving the army any other option but him, Alric attacked. He plunged his sword in one, pivoting around cut the legs off another. He bludgeoned the next in the face, never halting his blade swing until there was none left standing.

  Sweat poured down his face, he was drenched. His arm ached, his legs cramped. Sucking in his breath, he felt the ground beneath his feet trembled.

  With hardly a moment’s respite, another sentry appeared. He gave a quick look around. There was more. The Arachnidans swarmed the tunnel from all directions. Backing up into the Highborn Chamber, he once more prepared himself to battle. Standing by the bodies he had placed on the ground, he raised his sword.

  In their morph state, the soldiers pounced…but were repelled. Stunned, Alric gaped at the sight.

  “Don’t just stand there,” a voice demanded. “I can transport more. Hurry and ready as many as we can. There is a necessity to leave immediately.”

  Turning, Alric stared at the Tollin. Sangrey had arrived.

  “What are you doing here?” Alric demanded.

  “Saving your life,” Sangrey answered with a flick of hand. Why was on the tip of Alric’s tongue, but Sangrey cut him short. “There will come a day when I will remind you of my deed.” Gesturing to the bodies above them, Sangrey said, “Those two will do nicely for our cause.”

  Alric had no time to contemplate his actions. He gathered the Orimons and sat them side by side.

  Sangrey smiled. “Let us go.”

  Alric made no reply as the cavern and the Arachnidans faded from view.

  * * * *

  The world became bright, smelling of fragrant flowers and the warmth of the air. A pale mist ascended from the pond’s water as Alric stood. The earth was green.

  Welcoming smiles strewn across the faces of the elves that inhabited Briar Fuana. Alric saw women dancing around a bonfire. Children bounded about, breathless from play. The smell of a pig roasting drifted from the cook-fire.

  A celebration had begun.

  In the midst of festivity, the rescued Orimons were taken in litters to a large shelter made of white marble. Alric gazed at the aid given. Where is Ewan?

  “Your brother has already been taken within the Sinome,” Sangrey said, perching himself on Alric’s shoulder. “The fairy prince has been able to waken him from his deep sleep.”

  Alric held back his impulse to swat the Tollin away. The imp had rescued him. Yet, he would be foolish to believe it was anything other than Sangrey’s own selfish needs. “I must go.”

  “Of course, we should.”

  Alric shook his head. “Only I.”

  “Do not treat me badly, Ser Alric,” Sangrey warned. “I saved you.”

  “In truth, you did. For that I am grateful…yet, if the power I saw has always been within you, you could have saved us the trouble we went through of getting into the Highborn Chamber.”

  “You have much to learn, Ser Alric.” Sangrey frowned. “My ability is like a parasite that ebbs magic from those around me.”

  Staring at the imp, slow comprehension sank within Alric. There was only one who had such power that Sangrey displayed. “Asmeodai…you stole power from Asmeodai?”

  “I can only borrow power from one that has stolen theirs…such as Asmeodai.” Sangrey’s nostrils flared. “I responded to what I felt, Ser Alric. I might add with great risk to myself.”

  Alric eyed him suspiciously. He paused, needing time to consider Sangrey’s words. Something bothered him. Sangrey seemed to suspect Asmeodai’s reaction to their rescue attempt…more than even with his eye could have seen. A sudden thought crossed his mind.

  “You know Asmeodai well,” Alric said as fact. “Too well some might say.”

  Sangrey smirked. “You need not shy away from what you want to ask. I will not elude your question.” His face contorted grimly. “Yes…for a time, my services were given to Asmeodai.”

  Bitter fury gripped Alric. He cursed under his breath. “Stupid little Tollin!”

  “Aye, some might say,” Sangrey snorted. “Unlike some, I do not put myself on a mortal pedestal. Make no mistake I look after myself given the fact that no one else will. Do not judge me, Orimon!”

  “I would rather be dead than ever help Asmeodai!”

  “That I know,” Sangrey replied. “But you are right. When Asmeodai caught me, I offered him my gifts. Asmeodai accepted. My sight to see the future offers me several scenarios of what our future might hold. I saw nothing that gave me hope for myself or my people other than serving Asmeodai…until you came into my sight.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Alric demanded.

  “That the odds of all of our demise is great,” Sangrey stated firmly. “but you are the only hope we have of resisting until the Witheleghean heir returns.”

  Sangrey fell silent, gazing into the sky. Suddenly the sun was covered by a menacing shadow. For a moment, all grew dark.

  Frightened screams of elves rang out. The celebration ceased as everyone ran for cover.

  Alric glanced over at Sangrey, who shrugged. “Do not blame me. It is Asmeodai searching for our camp. He does not see us…because of you. It is you that angers him. It is you that cloaks his sight.”

  “He will not stop searching.”

  “On that we can agree,” the imp said. “Asmeodai is consumed with the need for power. I gave him my services. Yet, he coveted my gift. He has no qualms killing his own ally, but this obsession will be his end.”

  The shadow moved and the light returned.

  “I tell you this, Ser Alric. We have one chance to defeat Asmeodai. It is a hard path to follow. You cannot falter. The first you must do is close the tunnel. If you do not, Asmeodai will be victorious. The noble Orimons we rescued will help you in this mission.”

  Sangrey said no more. He tipped his hat and was gone.

  * * * *

  Battle worn and weary, Alric made his way into the Simone, which was being used as an infirmary. Those rescued lay quietly on the cots that had been brought into the chamber. Ragged remnants of clothing clung to their bodies. He counted… five… six… seven… eight Orimons.

  Eight Houses of great magic.

  He walked by each, making note of the sigils: star, lion, wind, panther, oak tree, crocodile, stallion, and at last, the yellow rose.

  Standing in silence, he stared down at his brother, who lay so quiet…so deathlike.

  “Ewan is safe,” Bae said, walking over to Alric’s side. “Orin said all the Orimons will wake in time. He said to bring them out too quickly will kill them.”

  “How long?”

  “No longer than a week,” she said, entwining her hand into his. “I thought…I thought I would not see you again.”

  Turning, his arms instinctively wrapped around her waist. “I could not allow that to happen.”

  With some surprise, he realized he had a deep need for her. Whether it was the result of the actions of the last day, her beauty, or simply the want for intimacy. He needed her quite badly.

  It was clear she had feelings of the same.

  She moved towards him. He kissed her. Her mouth was soft and warm, he lost himself in the moment, only vaguely conscious of his surroundings. She consumed him his every thought. They drew apart, staring at each other.

  Stop. You can go no further. She is no whore to randomly bed. She is a lady. Honor dictates to treat her with respect.

  “Come,” she said in a soft, alluring voice that he would not deny.

  Hand and hand, Alric walked with Bae to her home, which was embedded into a huge oak tree. He found the dwelling was quite deceiving on his entrance.

  She lived within a living garden.

  Alric realized the tree served as a door
to a small world that Bae had created. The floor was a bed of soft, green grass; the ceiling, vines intertwined tightly to each other. He noticed the furniture had flowers and greenery growing around each piece. In the midst of the beauty, there was a large pool of water.

  With a flick of her hand, Bae dismissed her servants. She waited until they disappeared. Moving seductively to the water’s edge, she paused at a small table which had been filled with fruits, cheese, and a decanter of wine.

  She poured a goblet and handed it to Alric. “Not quite as good as we used to have before the Darkening, but I have formed a preference for it.”

  He raised his glass briefly to his lips, then lowered it. “Bae, I shouldn’t be here.”

  Pouring a one for herself, she ignored his words and raised it up. “To Ser Alric, a beckoning of light in the darkness.”

  She drank and sat the goblet back on the table.

  Sitting his glass down as well, he quelled his desire to relent. He coupled his hands around hers. “I can’t allow this to go further. You know what I want, but I cannot…will not dishonor you.”

  “I know you hold to vows that being a knight demands…that being an Orimon demands. You are a man of honor,” she said. “But we have a special bond that few experience. I was married for many years, Alric, and never have I felt as I do for you.”

  She kissed him. Whispering against his lips, she said, “I have made many mistakes in my life, but you are not one.”

  His need overwhelmed all thoughts. He uttered, “Marry me.” The words escaped him without thought. Elves never married humans, even Orimons. The two races did not mix…not that he was aware.

  Her mesmerizing eyes stared back at him with no rebuff. She smiled, a soft, loving smile. “Yes, tonight if you wish…but first…” Freeing his shirt from his waist, Bae pulled it over his head. Her finger tips teased his chest. “Kiss me again.”

  He did. This time he drew her tighter into his embrace, slipping the straps of her gown over her shoulders. “You know I want you,” he heard himself say.

  Bae stepped back. Her gown shimmered to the floor. She stood before him naked. He had never seen a woman so beautiful. His eyes focused on her breasts, her perfect, lovely breasts. Then he gazed downward over her narrow waist to the juncture of her thighs. His manhood stiffened.

  She moved gracefully to his side, her hand slid under his pants. Her fingers made quick work of the buckle. Soon, his clothing covered hers on the floor.

  He lifted her in his arms and laid her down on the soft bed of grass. He was not experienced in the art of lovemaking. It had been years since he lay with a woman and none so beautiful, but his body played the part eagerly.

  Cupping her breasts and rubbing her nipples, he buried his head in her thick white hair. Scare taking a breath, his hand drifted down the curve of her belly, through the mound of white-silver hair and slid his fingers into the wet, slippery cleft between her legs.

  Bae put her hands around his neck and pulled him down on top of her. “Come, my love, I can take no more.”

  In answer, he entered her. Instincts drove him to where nothing else existed but the heat of her, the fragrance of her hair, her lips on his. Her nails dug in his back as she cried out He did not care, lost in her essence.

  Lying together afterward, she cradled her head on his chest. He stroked her cheek. “We’d best be up.”

  “I like it here.” She smiled.

  “Aye,” Alric agreed. “I won’t have others whispering behind our backs. We can’t have that. You agreed to marry me.”

  Bae looked up from his chest. “Then let us go to a wedding…ours.”

  * * * *

  Under a full moon, Alric alongside of Bae stood before the Elvish priestess. The two took vows that bound them together as man and wife.

  There had been none to question the High Sister’s decision to marry an Orimon. Instead, the whole of the village broke out once again into celebration.

  A small orchestra of elves played a lovely elfish song. Children laughed and danced around a ribbon pole. Fairies that hadn’t shown themselves in years joined in the merriment. Dwarfs had been called to enjoy the festivities.

  Bae led Alric to special chairs decorated with an abundance of flowers. She gestured for him to sit beside her. It was a place of honor. He sat. The whole of the celebration ceased. Everyone fell to one knee.

  His heart was touched that she shared with him this honor.

  Alric had only begun to understand that he had become Ser Alric, the Delivar, to the resistance. He had delivered them from the evil clutches of a mad wizard.

  For the first time since the Darkness, the resistance had struck at the core of Asmeodai. Gone was the fear that the darkness had cast. Hope resurged. Asmeodai forgotten…at least for the night.

  SIOCHANTA REALM

  Kela

  The Forbidden Forest

  Four years had passed since Kela arrived in this forsaken place.

  She had never forgotten the day when she woke groggy, bleary, and disoriented. Sunlight shone in her eyes as she laid on a straw-strewn floor.

  To her horror, she had found herself in an old, ratty hut. There was only one room with a window that had no barrier between the outside and indoors, no glass or shutters. The floor was dirt. In the far corner, there sat a broken table that tilted to the side and a worn cot by a blacken hearth.

  Confusion clouded her thoughts.

  Kela hadn’t a clue where she was. Slowly, remembrance returned…terrifying, frightening remembrances. The creature reaching toward her; Cono with his sword in his hand drawn.

  I blasted the creature…I had, hadn't I? Had I not seen Cono thrust his sword into the creature? I heard the cry of the dying Arachnidan.

  Yes, she was certain he had done so.

  But where was she? Where was everyone?

  Was she still within a dream?

  Kela stood for a long while in a daze before realizing that this was no dream.

  A slight whimpering noise disturbed the silence. She flinched. Was that a cry? Was someone in pain? Slowly, she eased out the door.

  Kela shielded her eyes surveying the surroundings.

  The sky was clear and bright. In the distance, she heard the song of the larks. The green lawn was long and bordered against a foreboding, dark forest.

  Adjusting to the light, she continued to follow the crying. Turning the corner of the small cottage, she found her old nurse, Guilda, holding her head in her hands and weeping soundly.

  Kneeling down, Kela brought Guilda into her arms. “What is wrong, Guilda? Where are we? Where is everyone?”

  “Kela, what have you done? Why have we been banished here?” she wailed, refusing to look at her.

  “Guilda, I don’t understand what you are saying? The last I remember is using my shield to help save the king. Surely, he could not be angry with me about such?”

  “Kela, I think not. The king would not have reacted this way if your words were true. The Royal Wings woke me and dragged me from my bed. They took us both from Yucca in the cover of the night. I didn't even get to say farewell to Sareta. My poor child will not know not where I went. She must be frantic!”

  “What of us?” Kela cried, suddenly overwrought. She rose, turning around and around, trying desperately to see something familiar. “Where are we, Guilda? Can we leave? Where is Falco?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Turstan would never desert us.”

  “This I was told is the Forbidden Forest.” Guilda finally wiped her tears and looked up. “It is our prison.”

  * * * *

  Kela learned later that the Forbidden Forest lay on the northern border of Scarladin. One never returned once they entered the haunted woods.

  The small hut sat at the foot of one of the rolling hills of a deep valley, tucked away from prying eyes by a thick hedge with only one opening. To the east, a winding stream flowed at the back of their dwelling surrounded by ancient oak trees. It seemed to Kela the only access to the outsi
de world lay from the sky. She soon comprehended was the intention of King Edulf.

  Guilda's words bothered Kela. “There were only two warriors that flew us to this hell. I believe the one that carried me only intention was to scare me. He pretended to almost drop me twice and seemed to take pleasure with my fear. We flew for days as you slept.

  “When we arrived with the morning sun, they were going to leave without a word, but I pleaded with them to at least tell me why we had been taken here. All they told me was that it was as a prison with no means of escape, except from the sky…and we would not be able to do so.

  “Do not venture into the forest for it is guarded by lost souls. No one has ever returned once they have entered, one laughed. I begged them to tell me what you had done! Then the one that laid you upon the filth of the floor, he turned to me and said, ‘I know not what was done, but I know of none other than subjects of the King's wrath have been so punished. I know we have been ordered to forget we brought you forth. May the Great One look over you both. You will need such!’”

  Guilda uttered the words and wept.

  * * * *

  Since that time, Kela’s dreams had come and gone. For days, she stood in the back of the cottage and searched the skies with a yearning to fly.

  She felt alone…so totally alone.

  Over and over again, Kela called to her brother. But it was all in vain. Each morning, she searched the skies for Falco’s arrival, but he did not come. She was trapped in this valley, bordered by the Forbidden Forest and the cliffs of the looming mountains.

  Poor Guilda was worse than Kela. She fretted terribly for Sareta. Not much time passed before she became frail. The care quickly reversed. Guilda took to bed, the only bed in the cottage…a dirty cot that had been left. Kela slept upon a straw bed of dried grass and leaves.

  In truth, Kela had little time to worry about comfort. They were in dire straits. And the only means of survival depended upon her.

  Gone was a simple wish and all she needed appeared. Sareta was no longer beside her.

  They had only been left a meager bundle of food, mainly dried loaves of bread. Kela hunted the edge of the woods for any semblance of edible foliage. There wasn’t much to eat.