Dark Moon Rising (The Prophecies of Zanufey)

by A. Evermore

  ‘If it hadn’t been for you lot I might have touched them. No doubt it was your ugly face that scared them away, Jommen,’ Asaph said.

  He didn’t help the young man beneath him and lay there heavy as Jommen struggled to push him off and stand, though still laughing hard. Jommen’s white teeth flashed in the dawn light, his short dark brown hair flopped into his golden eyes and he brushed it back roughly though it did not stay back for long.

  ‘I didn’t mean to startle you and your girlfriends,’ Jommen, jested motioning to where the deer had been, but there was nothing but warmth in his best friend’s eyes. Jommen reached a hand down and after a moment, meeting the young man eye to eye, Asaph grinned and gripped tightly Jommen’s leather arm guard as his wiry friend offered to pull him up.

  Jommen was the same age as Asaph, the same height, had the same sense of fun and adventure and, annoyingly, played the same tricks and jokes as Asaph did. Apart from the colour of their hair and eyes, the only thing different about them was Jommen was married with two children. Asaph did not even have a girlfriend, much to his secret despair. He had had a girlfriend once when he was a teenager, but that did not really count. That girl was now the grinning dimple-cheeked strong young woman walking up behind Jommen, her arrow notched but lowered. She too was married and now nothing more than a good friend.

  ‘Oliamah is waiting patiently for me, you know that,’ Asaph snorted, speaking of another dark-haired woman he had briefly met at the midsummer’s fires last year, a time when the different villagers travelled far and wide to visit each other and celebrate. Or was it two years ago? He could not remember. Sadly no Kuapoh woman, no matter if they did indeed like him, and he could tell from their coy looks around the campfire that they did, none were willing to brave being with a non-Kuapoh man, not least one from a far different land, even if he had grown up amongst them.

  Jommen laughed, ‘Of course she is. You know what the Surkan are like, they say one thing but mean another. But I’m sure you are right,’ he winked.

  ‘Leave him alone, Jom,’ Kahly scolded, her frown turning into a smile as she greeted Asaph with a hug that made it hard to breathe. He returned it warmly, always surprised at how strong she had become over the years. ‘Hey Zaph,’ she called him by his nick-name, ‘you are early, it must be a first,’ she grinned.

  Asaph pretended not to hear as he brushed his shirt down and adjusted his sword belt. They were all dressed similarly in a long jerkin cleverly woven from thin strips of bark of the dagono tree. It served as armour to protect against sharp claws or goblin knives, for when woven in a particular way it was impenetrable. The dagono tree bark was also used to make long rope and never had Asaph known one to break in all his life. Underneath they wore a softer cream or tan shirt and tight or loose trousers to the knee.

  Only their weapons were different, Asaph had a sword, Kahly a bow and Jommen two thick knives in his belt and what seemed to be a walking stick with a spike, so Asaph pointed out. Jommen feigned a laugh.

  ‘No Tillin?’ Asaph asked as they started walking away from the Meeting Tree without the skinny younger man that usually made up their ‘Fearsome Four’ as they were known, although mostly amongst themselves.

  ‘Sprained his wrist falling off that Down Rope,’ Kahly said with a smirk as she tied back her shoulder length ash coloured hair. Only a foolish Kuapoh ever fell off any rope.

  ‘Or he just prefers his own bed at this time of year, given how much earlier the sun rises,’ Jommen stated the truth. ‘Although he did fall quite bad, but then he had drunken quite a lot.’

  Asaph laughed and said, ‘I told him to avoid the Fire Wine after beer’ he shook his head, ‘but Tillin always has to find out for himself. He’s probably right, you know,’ Asaph mused after a few moments. The others looked at him questioningly. ‘Tillin’s right about the Elders,’ Asaph explained, speaking about the Elders who were the Kuapoh’s leaders, which included Gurapoha, ‘they probably do send us on goblin scouts to keep us away from the coast when the Histanatarns are likely to come.’

  They walked in silence, all thinking about the dreaded Histanatarns. They were a savage fish-like sea people who plagued the Kuapoh’s shores and a far greater threat than any goblin party could be. But they were not frequent and if they came they would only brave the Great Sea in their small boats in the calmest summer weather.

  Coronos knew this enemy too for the Histanatarns also plagued the shores of Drax. Histanatarn, their island kingdom, existed in the north far to the west and a little south of Drax. Draxians and the Kuapoh were united through a common enemy; both agreed Histanatarn must exist mid way between Drax and the Unchartered Lands and both feared them for their viciousness in battle was unrivalled.

  ‘Everyone knows goblins attack the north in summer anyway,’ Asaph added.

  ‘I think I’d rather do this goblin scouting than face the Histanatarns,’ Kahly shuddered. Asaph nodded in agreement. Jommen stayed silent.

  Kahly was older than them both by five years and remembered the attack on the village when the others were too young to really remember. She had recounted the story many times on their weekly goblin scouting parties and it was not a nice story. Twenty-three members of their tribe, men, women and children, had been taken or killed by the savage sea people. And all Kuapoh agreed it was better to be killed than enslaved by them.

  ‘The shamans said they have been attacking our kinsfolk further down the coast the last few years, further than they ever have been,’ Kahly’s face frowned in worry. ‘It is said their boats are sped by magic that they did not have before. ‘They never strike the same place twice, always keeping us wary. I fear our time is soon.’

  ‘We’ll be ready for them,’ Jommen said quietly in a hard voice. Asaph checked his sword, wondering if he were ready to face a more formidable foe than goblins.

  ‘My father told me of their attacks on Draxian shores. If their boats can span the Lost Sea and navigate past the Shadowlands then indeed magic must spur them on,’ Asaph said. The others nodded. Sunlight broke through the trees then, its warm summer light banishing the worries from their hearts as it warmed their bodies.

  ‘Oh look!’ Kahly said pointing up at a tree, ‘a Chukatan!’

  Asaph spied the luminous yellow body of the heavy bird amongst thick vines high up in the canopy. As if sensing Kahly’s pointing finger, it squawked once and then flopped heavily into the air. Massive indigo coloured wings spread wide and the fruit-eater slowly circled up and away over the treetops.

  ‘Well there’s our good luck omen for the day,’ Jommen said and the others grinned at the rare sighting.

  With their spirits lifted and enemies forgotten they walked the long route around the perimeter of their homeland, a journey that would take half a day or so. As they walked they chatted about the early summer weather and small things but Asaph soon found his thoughts drifting, Jommen and Kahly’s voices fading into a low background hum.

  Though Jommen’s words earlier were meant only in jest they had hit a sore point, he had no female companion and wasn’t looking likely to get anymore than friendship amongst the Kuapoh. Despite their seemingly good and mostly peaceful lives they were very rigid in their social structures. They had found what worked and stuck to it, no one wanted to stand out or be different; if it was working why change it? So the Kuapoh mentality went.

  To Asaph’s sense of adventure and love of the unknown he found such rigidity boring, stifling even. Was it the Draxian within him that longed for change, longed to explore the world? He thought it was. He would broach the subject with Coronos if he weren’t so embarrassed by his singledom.

  But if he was honest with himself it was more than that. He was further embarrassed when he realised the only woman he really wanted was the dark-haired girl in his dream. No other held his interest; no other could ever be what she was to him. Even though he doubted whether she really existed, nothing could change the fact that he had always dreamed about her even as a child too youn
g to understand relationships. I’d prefer a made-up fantasy woman than something real, he thought and then laughed aloud. The others looked at him and he coughed to hide his embarrassment.

  ‘Sorry, I was thinking of Tillin,’ he muttered.

  The others grinned. ‘I doubt you have heard I word I’ve said,’ Kahly rolled her eyes.

  ‘I have, sort of,’ Asaph said, desperately racking his brains. ‘What was it?’ he asked meekly.

  ‘Honestly, I swear you have become more and more withdrawn and involved in your own thoughts these last few months. Anyway, I said let’s stop to eat by the river, the one with the little waterfall,’ she repeated.

  ‘Sounds good, I’m starving,’ Asaph agreed, ‘how far is it again?’

  ‘A quarter of an hour, maybe less,’ Jommen said eagerly.

  Spurred on by their bellies, they picked up the pace. As they had been expecting, they encountered no goblins on the way, not even on the rocks before the river where they were most likely to be seen. Still the hungry party moved cautiously as they neared, hugging the wall and keeping low, their gentle footfalls making no sound. A rabbit in hiding suddenly bolted from cover before them and was joined by a younger one before both disappeared. The startled party relaxed. Asaph slipped his sword back into its sheath and Kahly unnotched her arrow as Jommen straightened and leant on his walking stick-come-spear.

  They settled beside the small swift flowing river and filled their canisters with the cool crisp water. Up ahead a little waterfall splashed down pale grey rocks creating a fine mist dancing with rainbows in the sunlight. The air was filled with the sound of the river tinkling merrily by. Once comfortable, they hastily opened their packs and tucked into their brunch of fruits, honeyed nuts and filled breads.

  After they had eaten Asaph disappeared off to relieve himself. He had just started to make his way back when, as he adjusted his sword belt, his hand brushed across his mother’s ring in his pocket. He hadn’t meant to bring it along and had stuffed it deep into his trousers to make sure it stayed safe.

  All at once The Recollection opened like a book in his mind, coming completely unbidden. He knew it was The Recollection, he knew what it felt like in his mind, but the most astonishing thing about it this time was that the memory of the solid wooden door that appeared in his mind had some how projected before him and materialised. He immediately felt the Dragon within stirring but blessedly it did not overwhelm him.

  Asaph stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the thick walnut door standing half his height again and over two foot wide. Carved two thirds up was a Dragon head, the size of a horse's head, and its snout longer than his arm protruding impossibly out. The whole thing seemed to be carved out of one block and the detail on the Dragon was profound with small slender horns dotting up its snout to its long thin ears. Its big slitted eyes were half lidded and completely serene, benevolent even, so Asaph thought. Fangs hooked over the bottom lip and every patch of skin was carefully etched in scales. If it had not been all brown wood, he would have thought the Dragon was alive.

  Asaph blinked several times but the door remained, as clearly real in front of him as it was in his mind. He stepped towards it slowly. What if it opened? Where did it go? Or was something awful going to come through? His raised hand, hesitated at the last thought. But there was no handle on the door and no keyhole, nothing to suggest it was a door at all, other than being big and made of wood, it could just as easily be a decorative panel. But he knew it was a door, though he could not recall where it led. He tried to search The Recollection but the memories wouldn’t budge, as if it were stuck on the page.

  His fingers touched the nose and he jumped, somehow expecting his hand to pass right through, but it was solid and smooth and warm in the sunlight. He traced the snout up to the door itself, marvelling at the exquisite workmanship.

  He pushed on the door but there was no budging it, it may as well have been made of solid rock. He jumped behind it, half expecting something to be there but there was only soft green grass and the smooth back of the door. He looked about him but nothing else had changed, the river still trickled by, the birds still sang, and a little way a way he heard the others chatting.

  ‘Hey,’ he called out after a moment, wondering if he should or not. ‘Hey you guys, come look at this. It’s…. it’s bizarre!’ Indistinct voices returned. Asaph turned to go and get them, glancing back one last time at the walnut door before rounding the trees to where they sat. They were strapping on their packs and adjusting their weapons, looking at him nervously when he rounded the corner all excited.

  ‘Relax,’ Asaph put up his hands for calm, ‘no goblins, just something very strange. Come and look!’ Asaph said, grabbing his pack. But as soon as he said it he felt the book shut with a snap in his mind, The Recollection closing suddenly. Ignoring it he darted off round the corner with the others following swiftly behind.

  ‘Oh no!’ Asaph said in dismay, ‘it’s gone!’

  ‘What’s gone?’ Jommen and Kahly said in unison.

  ‘There was a… there was a door…’ Asaph trailed off, looking all about him as if it had somehow moved, but not even the grass was flattened where it had been.

  They both sighed and folded their arms, Kahly raised her eyebrow, clearly not amused.

  ‘There was a door, a great big fat wooden door, right here, I swear it!’ Asaph said feeling his face grow hot. ‘I’m… I’m not lying,’ he said standing tall with hands on hips.

  ‘Well where is it then?’ Jommen laughed, suddenly enjoying the fun.

  ‘Right here,’ Asaph pointed at the ground, realising how silly this looked to them. ‘It appeared out of nowhere, I don’t know what it was or where it came from but it was here and solid and it had a… Dragon on it,’ his shoulders slumped as the others laughed loudly.

  ‘That’s a good one, ‘Zzzzaph,’ Kahly said, ‘Dragons don’t even exist.’

  That last got Asaph like a blow to the stomach. He was surprised at how it caught him out though he knew it was such a silly comment and not meant to harm at all. But it struck him to the core of his being. Through his tumult of emotion he managed to force a smile and even a chuckle spluttered from his lips. ‘I must be seeing things, maybe it was Fairy magic,’ a voice that didn’t sound like his came from far away. They laughed and carried on chatting and walking.

  In a daze Asaph followed his laughing friends across the grass away from the river and into the trees. That is the heart of it isn’t it? They are right. Dragons don’t even exist… not anymore. They are gone. Everything and all that I am is gone. Even if I could return there is nothing there for me. But there is nothing here for me either; I can never be one of the Kuapoh or anything anymore. I belong nowhere and to nothing.

  If he had been alone the cracks now snaking across his veneer of forced smiles and feigned laughter would have splintered him apart. The part of him that laughed and joked along whilst they walked kept the other part of him from shattering. A desperate, choking, all-consuming homesickness swelled in his belly getting ready to explode. He had to be alone, who knows what the Dragon form might do. He had to find solace. Asaph racked his mind for an excuse to escape.

  ‘Oh I forgot,’ Asaph stopped short, ‘father wanted some greynight for his pipe,’ suddenly remembering the sweet smelling herb Coronos added to his pipe to give the Lintel weed an aromatic taste and pleasant smell. ‘I’ll see if I can find some in the usual place, I shan’t be long,’ he turned and loped into a run back up the path before the others could say they would come too.

  ‘Something is really up with him lately,’ Asaph’s sensitive hearing picked up Kahly’s voice, followed by a murmur of agreement from Jommen. But Asaph, once out of sight, darted off the path into the thick forest and didn’t stop until the trees crowded around him like bustling giants.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A Hopeful Search

  A thick stream of golden sunlight poured through the open trap door, illuminating the gloom of the u
nderground storage room. Issa stretched and watched the dust and tiny flies dance in the light, feeling as though she had slept a thousand years and could sleep a thousand more. Breakfast was only a few steps away and now rest, food, water, and basic survival needs were met, her mind could think on other things.

  Issa closed her eyes again but the contentment of deep sleep was fast fading as her thoughts turned to her mother and the desolation of her homeland. Ma was dead, her home was gone and the whole island was decimated, the people murdered, something she had not really fully grasped and still could not.

  She should make a shrine for Ma, somewhere on their hill above the burnt-out orchard where the sun still shone and the wind blew; she had not had a chance to grieve nor even time to say a prayer. But she could not return there, the thought of it made her tremble. She could never return and neither could she stay here on a desolate island. But there was plenty of food and people would come eventually wouldn’t they?

  ‘All gone…’ she remembered that soft whisper in her mind. But it had been a dream, hadn’t it? Issa sat up suddenly remembering the being made of light that had visited in the night. ‘It seemed so real,’ she breathed. Her voice echoed around her though she had barely whispered. The only voice left upon the whole island. She shuddered.

  All gone? Can it be true? Could all the islands have suffered the same terrible fate? She would never hear another voice again if she remained here, for who would come? Main Landers went to the larger eastern islands and rarely ever came to Bigger Kammy and rarer still to Little Kammy, unless by accident. By the time a ship ever chanced these shores she would have long died of old age.

  But what about the rest of the Maioria, was her voice the only one left in all the world? Her hand flew to her throat and her heart raced. No, that was surely not possible.