Dark Moon Rising (The Prophecies of Zanufey)

by A. Evermore

  ‘The soulless Maphraxies have an insatiable desire to consume life, thus they seek the death of the flesh of mortals so they might get at the soul, with a sickening delight. They are formidable opponents and are stronger now than ever before. Baelthrom’s minions do not all look the same, they take many forms and guises, and his spies are everywhere. Be careful who your friends are,’ he squinted at her over his glasses.

  Issa said nothing, letting his words sink in.

  ‘Hameka was a man who actively sought out the Immortal Lord, begged to be taken in. He was a master Wizard, but his was a magic rooted in hatred; hatred of the Goddess, hatred of life and all the wrongs that had been done unto him. He soon became a brilliant ruthless commander, and Baelthrom’s second-in-command.’ The orb swirled and a tall figure began to form but it did not get any clearer. Issa strained to make out the image.

  Freydel sighed, ‘That is as good as I ever got. Hameka has concealed his image from prying eyes, even his past has been shrouded from us,’ he explained.

  ‘Baelthrom’s gifts made him immortal but he looks as human as you or me. A very dangerous man indeed. If you see him, and your heart will know, you must run from him, as fast as you can.’ Issa felt a chill sweep down her spine at his words.

  ‘It is Hameka that executes all Baelthrom’s orders, with devastating success. The eastern lands were the first to fall. The Elves and Dwarves fled and now their lands are nothing but barren, poisoned wastelands where nothing can grow or live.

  ‘And then fell Drax. The might of the Dragon Kingdom crushed liked brittle glass beneath the Immortal Lord’s boot. Everyone knows he now eyes the Frayonesse continent,’ his voice was low.

  ‘All is slowly being taken, despite our strongest assaults and defences, they are destroying us and there is nothing we can do to stop them.’ He stood up and pulled out a map from under several sheets of paper, a quarter the size of the table.

  ‘Look,’ he pointed to it. Issa came to stand beside him. The map was labelled: “The Known World”.

  ‘Venosia, Ostasia, Tusarza, Intolana, Munland – now all Maphrax,’ she looked at the five connected lands now shaded over with grey lead and the thick black letters “MAPHRAX” scrawled over them. ‘All lost! The only places left are here: Celene; the Frayon continent, of which Davono and Lans Himay are part of, and Atalanph.’

  He pointed to each of the lands in turn, ‘... and maybe the Unchartered Lands to the west though no one has ever returned from there and who knows about the rest of the world? Perhaps the Known World is all there is anyway. You can forget the wicked sea peoples of Histanatarn to the north, west of Drax,’ he said, pointing to a thick clump of hundreds of tiny islands west of Drax. ‘They are barely human as it is and probably already in league with the Immortals. Drax, of course was the last to fall.’

  ‘The Unchartered Lands,’ she mouthed, ‘no it cannot be, they said they had come from there, though they were originally from Drax, yes that’s it, I remember now.’

  ‘Impossible,’ he said looking at her but his eyes were already beginning to doubt. ‘No one has been there, or been there and survived the return home. The seas are treacherous, the domain of Keteth and the Shadowlands. That is why it is called “The Lost Sea”, lost to all but Keteth of course. It was once called the “The Shining Sea” and, who knows, maybe one day it will be again.’

  Issa shrugged, ‘That’s what they said.’

  ‘It seems there is much Coronos and I have to catch up on. Soon I hope. Even as we speak, in the seas between northern Frayon and Drax, the battle against Baelthrom rages. But our resistance is weakening, our soldiers are tired and demoralised, our numbers are dwindling as his army swells. We are not defeating them, merely holding them back.

  ‘The loss of Drax was a crippling blow. We are losing this war and there is nothing we can do about it. Fear for our future is a sickness in the minds and hearts of the free peoples of Maioria. Hmm,’ he breathed, ‘now is our last stand, our last chance to heal the Dark Rift.’ And then, somewhat reluctantly, he slipped the orb back into its velvet sack and put it into a drawer that magically disappeared when he shut it.

  Issa was disappointed now it was gone; its potent magic was quite alluring. She glanced at Freydel who sat silently, tugging on his neat beard, deep in thought. Outside the raven still perched, sleeping, on the windowsill. Of all that Issa had learned from Freydel, it troubled her greatly that Freydel thought she had a key role in this dire situation and she hoped to convince him otherwise.

  ‘Lunch?’ Freydel said, forcing a smile. She smiled back at him, pleased to think on something different.

  They ate lunch in the same courtyard where she had eaten breakfast, but spoke only of daily things; the heavy conversations of the morning deliberately avoided. Issa enjoyed the heat of Celene, being so far south it was much warmer than Little Kammy ever got, and she liked the humidity too. Freydel named the flowers and insects around them whilst they feasted. She only half listened; watching butterflies the size of her hand dance amongst the purple flowers.

  With all the beauty around her it was hard to think the world was ravaged by darkness and war, but then she remembered the Dromoorai and shuddered. In her mind’s eye she saw soldiers fighting a bloody battle against seemingly indestructible monsters, and watching over them all was their master, Baelthrom. He reached towards her from the shadows and in his hand held that beautiful pulsing white star trapped within a bottle. It whispered to her of life without end and power without limits, and she felt again great desire for it.

  ‘The greatest gift,’ she whispered. Freydel stopped his chattering and looked at her.

  ‘What did you say? You look as pale as a ghost.’

  ‘I think I said... the greatest gift,’ she replied.

  ‘What is?’

  ‘Immortality, to live without the pain of death.’

  The sun passed behind a cloud casting the world in shadow. A butterfly circled around her, though it was not the colourful wings that drew her attention but rather the darkness of its shadow that danced across her lap. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

  ‘There can be no life without death, no joy without first the pain, no growth without a sacrifice of old ways,’ Freydel said softly, ‘and we all live forever within Feygriene’s light; though our forms may change, we can never truly die.’ The sun came out from behind the cloud and cast them all in its warm light, dissipating the shadows.

  ‘I believe there is life without death; and joy, by its nature, cannot know of pain,’ Issa said quietly, sad that these things she felt to be true deep within her did not seem to be true here.

  Freydel did not hear her and stood up, brushing the crumbs from his lap. ‘There is still much we must discuss but it will have to wait. There are things to which I must attend, the festival is tomorrow and the Lady Eleny will need all the help she can get. Let us go and meet the Lady of Castle Elune.’ He smiled warmly at her.

  Issa nodded and forced a smile as she stood; no longer having the appetite to finish her lunch. She glanced back at the butterfly and its shadow but tore her eyes away before she could see any more dark images reaching out to her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Black Fire

  Issa and Freydel made their way to the stables behind the great house. There they found a blonde-haired woman who was busy brushing down an old, dapple-grey carthorse chewing on a mouthful of hay. A memory flashed in Issa’s mind. A shaggy mare with light brown eyes and then the blackened charred remains of a horse behind a cart. She closed her eyes against the sudden tears and forced a smile.

  Maeve was already there, sat on a stool, and furiously fanning her shiny red face. The stool creaked dangerously under her wide bottom that was three times its size. The mare watched their approach with an interested expression on its face and the blonde-haired woman looked up and beamed warmly at Issa.

  ‘Ah, my dear, finally we meet! Are you feeling better?’ she asked, taking Issa’s hands in her ow
n.

  Lady Eleny looked to be in her forties, had clear blue eyes and thick shoulder-length hair framing a handsome heart-shaped face. She wore a long burgundy coloured dress and a fine gold band about her neck. Like Freydel, she was well-spoken and seemed genuine and Issa found herself naturally smiling back.

  ‘We were so worried about you when you arrived. It’s good to see you up. I trust you are well fed and just need some sun to bring the colour back into your cheeks?’

  ‘Yes, thank you miss, uh Lady, for all you have done for me.’ Issa said, started to curtsy and instead grinned awkwardly.

  ‘It’s the least we could do. Please, make yourself at home, we have so few visitors these days it is a pleasure. Anything you want or need just ask,’ Ely said, with a wave of her hand.

  ‘Thank you, Lady Eleny,’ Issa said stumbling over the words again and grimacing for repeating herself.

  ‘Oh please just call me Ely, we are all friends here,’ she waved dismissively.

  Issa smiled, and let out a short sigh of relief, ‘I am Issa.’

  ‘Welcome to my home, Issa, welcome to Celene,’ Ely swept her arm wide. ‘I don’t quite understand all that Freydel speaks of, though few ever escape the White Beast without some blessing of the Goddess.’ Ely glanced at the Wizard, who was stroking the shaggy mare’s nose. ‘But I know you have come from the Isles of Kammy, I can tell from your lovely accent.’ Issa smiled, feeling her cheeks grow warm. ‘And here you are on another island far to the south, but an island nonetheless, so I hope you will feel at home here.’

  Ely looked away to the green hills in the distance and frowned, ‘We pray the Dromoorai do not come here. These are dark times but who better to serve as your guide, your tutor, than Freydel,’ her smile returned but the lines of worry remained. ‘Still, there are good times to be had,’ Ely smiled and the worry in her face disappeared. ‘You have come at a happy time for the Mid Summer Celebrations are tomorrow and we have lots to prepare.’

  Issa looked wide-eyed, Had so much time passed? Was it Mid Summer already? It had only been the beginning of summer on Little Kammy when she had left and that seemed like a lifetime ago. A lump rose in her throat, never again would she see Little Kammy’s meadows of summer flowers, so vibrant against the clear blue sky.

  ‘I love horses,’ Ely continued, ‘and we breed and tend some of the finest in the land. Tomorrow the very best knights of Frayon will ride them.’

  ‘I used to heal horses, and other animals, back home on Little Kammy. Ma said I had a Healer’s hand.’ Though I could never heal her, Issa did not say the last. ‘It was my dream to make it to the Main Land to find a Seer or Priestess’s temple where I could apply my gift,’ Issa said and shifted nervously under Ely’s gaze.

  ‘A Healer? We could do with one of those here,’ Ely said thoughtfully. ‘My mother was a Healer and a Priestess, but I had not the Healer’s gift.’

  ‘I have not been trained in the art,’ Issa blurted.

  ‘The gift is first, the training comes later. It’s a shame the High Priestess of Celene doesn’t realise that,’ Ely added under her breath but said no more and Issa didn’t press the point, seeing the scowl on her face.

  ‘Come, let me show you the horses,’ Ely said. Issa nodded. Together they walked through the stables, leaving Maeve and Freydel to chat to each other. Though, from the sound of it, Freydel and Maeve didn’t quite see eye to eye.

  ‘I’m going to get into that stuffy room of yours and make it clean if it’s the last thing I do,’ Issa caught Maeve saying.

  ‘Harrumph, I shall have long left this world by then.’ Issa just about caught Freydel’s reply as they rounded a corner. Issa looked at Ely, who had gone pink from holding her breath, and they both burst out laughing.

  ‘That has been going on for a very long time,’ Ely giggled, ‘but deep down I’m sure they like each other.’ Issa grinned.

  The horses to be ridden by the knights were quite beautiful: long-limbed, slender and graceful, with large eyes and chiselled heads. Ely stroked the gleaming coat of a young bay stallion and it nuzzled her fondly.

  ‘There will be two days of music, singing and dancing, and the finest food and wine brought from all over Maioria. I was hoping you would be well enough to join us. So in case you were, I arranged a dress for you, quite simple but modern and without that cumbersome Frayonesse bustle. I do hope you’ll like it, though don’t feel obliged to wear it.’

  ‘Oh wonderful,’ Issa said, and tried to hide a grimace at the mention of another dress. But as they walked and talked of the celebrations Issa realised how long it had been since she had talked of normal things. The hardship of the past few weeks slowly released and she struggled to blink back tears of relief before Ely could see. She was no longer alone and perhaps this would be her new home, at least for now. Ma had told her to get to the Main Land but here was good enough, especially if Freydel could teach her about magic. There also seemed to be a temple here, perhaps she could work and train her Healer’s gift there whilst she tended Ely’s horses.

  Birds flittered about the trees and bees hummed in nearby bushes. The smell of summer flowers was heavy in the air and all was peaceful. They came to a stop at the last stable; the late afternoon sun had lost its former heat but the breeze had dropped so it remained very warm.

  Suddenly Issa was alert, all her senses heightened as if she had just awoken with a start, her limbs poised for flight and her heart quickened. The world was clearly defined, like someone had drawn around everything with a fine pencil.

  A big bird darted past her and landed on a couple of stables set apart from the others. Ely jumped and stared at the raven, wide-eyed.

  ‘A raven! A good omen, if a little powerful,’ Ely said, but Issa did not hear her, so intent upon the raven was she: he was trying to tell her something.

  ‘What’s in those stables,’ Issa nodded towards them, her eyes never leaving the raven.

  ‘Oh, those horses are not for the celebrations tomorrow. One is my mare, she is a little old now to ride much, but I still love her. The other, well, it’s a sad story,’ she sighed.

  ‘The other horse was meant as a gift from the King of Atalanph. The desert kingdom has fast horses. He was a beautiful black foal but the ship carrying him and his mother was attacked, most on board were killed or drowned, including his mother. Some managed to flee the sinking ship and, with only a half-filled raft of people, they took pity on the struggling foal and dragged it in with them. They were lucky to survive.’

  ‘Keteth,’ Issa said softly and Ely nodded.

  ‘He has never recovered from the trauma. We managed to get him to eat, eventually, but never tame enough to ride. If we cannot tame him we cannot name him and so he remains nameless. He is only calm when my mare Izy is with him, that’s why we put them together. He is beautiful and fast but dangerous; no one can get near him without getting bitten or kicked. Such a shame,’ she said, shaking her head.

  ‘Can we look? Maybe I can help,’ Issa asked, intrigued by this ominous horse.

  ‘Sure, just don’t get too close!’

  They headed to the stables atop which the raven was busy preening itself.

  Izy was in the first stable, a small, mild-mannered, strawberry roan who whickered softly and nuzzled Lady Eleny’s hand. A heavy stamp came from the next stable. Issa walked slowly towards it whilst Ely remained stroking Izy.

  The smell of fear and sweat lay heavy in the air and at first Issa couldn’t see anything in the blackness as her eyes adjusted. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and sweat tingled upon her forehead. She wasn’t afraid but curious for a part of her deeply understood the creature that cowered fearfully before her. The dark shape in the corner stamped and snorted loudly, tossing his head up and down. She could feel the horse’s fear as if it were her own, a sense of loss, confusion and stress, these were all feelings she knew well.

  ‘There, there,’ she whispered softly, ‘I’m not here to hurt you.’

  The r
aven cawed above her once and then was silent and she wondered if he was talking to the horse, reassuring it in some way. All at once the horse ceased his stamping and was calmer, daring to venture forward a little into the light. His coat was as black as midnight and glistened with sweat from the daily battles fought against the Demons in his mind. The whites of his eyes were brilliant crescent moons of fear shining in the darkness. He was very tall and his sleek; powerful muscles twitched nervously. She found him quite magnificent to look upon.

  Issa stayed motionless, breathing lightly, and in each other’s presence a sense of calm settled between them. He came closer, turning his head to look at her, first with one eye and then the other. He was close now; Issa could touch him if she tried but she made no move and he took another step forward.

  For a moment they stayed there, neither one moving, neither one willing to be the first and then, slowly, she raised her hand and gently touched the top of his nose. His fear flowed into her and she pushed it out to let it dissipate in the air, as she had known to do so many times on Little Kammy. Beyond the fear there was something else, like a flickering flame but black and not yellow and then the image was gone. She smiled and drew her hand away. ‘There that wasn’t so hard was it?’ The horse stood calmly before her and snorted softly.

  ‘Well I never,’ Ely whispered in amazement, coming a little closer but keeping her distance, ‘no one has come that close to him for a long time. Why don’t you try and ride him?’ Ely grinned, somewhat impishly.

  ‘Hah, I think it is a little early for that,’ Issa said, ‘but there is something more I felt, I can’t be sure but it could be his name, I sometimes get their names if they want to tell me.’ Issa wondered if Ely would take her seriously.