Darkness Falls (Tales of the Wolf)

by A. E. McCullough

  Graytael listened politely even though he was anxious to ask questions.

  Anasazi reached into his ever present satchel and began to pull out items. Handing the young half-elf a hand-carved bowl he said, “Fill this with creek water but do not spill any on your trip back.”

  With a nod, Graytael rushed to do his bidding.

  The rapidly flowing creek was not too far away but the slopes of the bank were extremely steep. The problem would not be getting the water, the tricky part would be not spilling it. Scouring the bank for several hundreds of feet in both directions, he spied a broken tree that straddled the creek.

  Placing one foot on its surface, Graytael pushed to test its solidness. It did not budge. Stepping on it gingerly, he began walking out over top the creek. The tree only shifted once and it was not much. Moving at a snail’s pace, Graytael knelt down, paused and then lay down on his belly. He was not too concerned about falling since it was only a drop of about two feet at this point. Lowering the bowl, he filled it with the cold water and slowly stood up. It wasn’t long before he had traversed the tree back to solid land and began the trek back to the campsite.

  By the time he returned, Anasazi had two conies roasting on spits and was waiting calmly.

  “Did you spill any?”

  Gray shook his head. “No uncle.”

  Anasazi nodded and held out a glass bottle that contained some sort of green powder. “Good, now pour half of the water into this carafe.”

  Gray carefully took glass decanter from his uncle and stared at for a few seconds. Glass was extremely rare; this only being the second one he had ever seen in his short life and the other one was not nearly as ornate. Bringing his mind back to the task, he slowly poured the water into the bottle and watched in fascination as it began to foam and churn.

  Anasazi immediately put a metal stopper on the opening and placed the decanter into the fire.

  “Very good. That potion will take a few minutes to be ready. In the meantime, you need to prepare yourself for the next stage of your journey.”

  Gray cocked his head to the side. “Journey?”

  “Yes, your spiritual journey. Over the next few days, we will be traveling a great deal. And to complete both ceremonies before the rising of the full moon, we will need help.”

  “Where can we find that way out here in the middle of nowhere? Besides, I thought my existence was to remain a secret even to the elves?”

  Anasazi nodded. “This is true but the assistance we require is from two of the greatest warriors in the history of Elves and Highlanders and they are beyond mortal concerns.”

  Graytael shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “You will.” Fishing out the glass bottle with his bare hands, the ancient shaman uncorked it and handed it back to his nephew. “Drink this. It will help calm your mind and allow you to see the truth of your surroundings.”

  Graytael felt confused but knew that Anasazi only had his best interest in mind and followed his commands. Even fresh out of the fire, the glass bottle was only slightly warm to the touch.

  Downing the potion, Graytael noted that it had a slight minty flavor to it but it was unlike anything he would ever drank before. It seemed to fizzle and bubble all the way down and he imagined it still doing that in his stomach. But as the warmth of the mysterious green liquid began to radiate out from his gut, Graytael forgot all his worries as the world began to change around him. Nothing major…just minor things. The colors of the forest seemed sharper. The rustling of the leaves and the rushing of the nearby creek echoed in the stillness of the night. Looking around, Graytael was astounded to see two more people sitting around the campfire with them. He did not feel threatened by them at all, as a matter of fact, he felt comforted by their presence.

  Realizing that his nephew would still be engrossed by the potion, Anasazi turned his attention to their guests. “It is good to see you two again; it has been a long time.”

  The old Highlander with the fancy war bonnet of red feathers nodded his greeting. “It is good to be seen.” Red Crow gestured to his elven companion, “You remember Eldath, right?”

  Following the elven custom, Eldath placed his left hand over his heart and held out his right hand, palm up, while bowing low. “Ancient one, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  Anasazi shook his head and waved his hands back and forth slightly. “Nay, the pleasure is all mine. I appreciate the sacrifice you two made by leaving Elysium. I fear your wisdom and guidance will be needed in the near future.”

  Before either of the two spirits could say anything else, Graytael cocked his head to the side. “I know you two, don’t I?”

  The old Highland warrior nodded. “Yes, Graytael son of Kamots Hawkeye. I am Red Crow, once a member of the Great Council of the Highland Nation.”

  The handsome elf with the blue hair copied the hand gestures he had used earlier and said, “And I am Eldath Amarth, great-grandsire of your mother, Tatianna and friend to all who oppose evil.”

  Graytael furrowed his brow and slowly nodded. “Red Crow. Eldath. I have heard tales of you both. But…but…”

  Red Crow laughed. “But we’re dead.”

  “Yes. So, how do I know you and how can I see you?”

  With a nod from his Highlander companion, Eldath began his explanation.

  “The story is long but I will try to briefly clarify our situation. You are right. We are dead. Both Red Crow and I are what would be known in this realm as ghosts. When Red Crow died and came to the realm of the dead, he found it crowded. With the Gods trapped in an alternate plane and unable to aid their followers, the faithful are powerless to cross the final threshold to their promised resting place. He wandered far and wide through the Elysium until he stumbled across my people. The faithful of Aurora were waiting at the gates of our promised land, unable to enter. When Red Crow explained that the Chosen One had been conceived and that the forces of darkness were aligning to prevent your birth and therefore hoping to disrupt the prophecy, we decided to come back to this realm to assist you.”

  Red Crow picked up the story. “It was a one way trip and we knew it. Coming back to the realm of the living would cause us to be anchored to one spot in Terreth, whether it was a location or an item. Anasazi suggested that we used the enchanted pouch you wear which has allowed us to be with you since birth.” He pointed at the pouch that always hung around Graytael’s neck but was invisible to all by Anasazi’s magic.

  Graytael quickly sat back at this revelation. “That’s how I know you! You used to talk to me as a baby.”

  Eldath grinned. “That is true. It has always amazed me how newborns and toddlers could see us, while children and adults can’t.”

  Anasazi interjected. “Those new to this realm see things as they are without the prejudices and restrictions placed on them by society. It has always been so and I suspect it will always remain that way.”

  Graytael looked at his uncle and back to the ghosts. “So you’re saying that when I was really young I could see them but as I began to learn the ways of the world, my new found knowledge prevented me from perceiving them.”

  Eldath smiled and looked over to his companion. “You’re right. He is a fast learner.”

  Anasazi interrupted. “Counselors…I’m sure you have a lot to discuss with the Chosen One but the potion I gave him has a very limited duration and we have much to work on over the next few hours.”

  Eldath nodded. “You are correct Ancient One.”

  Red Crow moved to Graytael’s left and sat down while Eldath moved to his right and mirrored his ghostly companion’s position.

  Anasazi shifted his position until he was directly in front of the young half-elf. “Now, I want you to close your eyes and concentrate on your breathing. In through the nose and out through your mouth. Slowly. Each breath should last a full nine count.”

  Eldath picked up the explanation. “Open your mind. Let it wander far and wide. Do not fix your attention on an
y one point. Your mind is like a river, flowing throughout your body.”

  Red Crow reached out with both hands and joined hands with his two companions, surrounding their charge. “This will feel a bit strange but trust in Anasazi and in us.”

  Without waiting for Graytael to respond, the three entities closed their eyes and used their own connection to the Weave to become one with the magic. To anyone that was mortal and watching, they would not have seen anything out of the ordinary, except the old shaman talking to air. But if one was able to peer into the spirit realm by some sort of magical means, then they would’ve seen the two ghosts glowing with an unearthly light which seemed to flow into the ancient shaman. From there, it flowed out of his forehead to surround and encompass the young half-elf.

  * * * * *

  When Graytael woke up it was morning and he was alone.

  He was still in the forest but the campfire had burned down to nothing but ashes. Holding his hand over top, he did not feel any heat, which told him that it had been hours since the fire went out. However when he looked up at the sun, he noticed that it was not very high in the sky which meant that it must still sometime before highsun. He cocked his head to the side as he tried to put the pieces together but they did not add up. When his stomach growled, he realized that he must have been out for more than a day.

  Hearing the rustling of leaves behind him, Graytael gripped his warclub and drew his ever-present knife.

  “I see that you are finally awake,” came his uncle’s voice.

  Replacing his weapons, Graytael stood up and stretched. “How many days?”

  As Anasazi stepped into the clearing he said, “Just one but I expected to lose at least a day to that spell, so we are not behind schedule.”

  “What did you three do to me?”

  “Only what was necessary. Do you remember what I’ve explained to you about the Weave?”

  Graytael shrugged. “Only slightly. I know that is the term used to describe magic. Some people tend to have a stronger connection to the Weave which leads to them becoming some sort of spellcaster, right?”

  “Kind of…the Weave is life and life is the Weave.”

  “Huh?”

  Graytael fell in beside his uncle as they began walking even as Anasazi talked.

  “This world was created a long time ago by three gods: Hyperion, Terra and Nox. The story of the Trôika is extremely long but I will do my best to be brief and cover that which you need to know and understand. By combining their wills, the Trôika created Terreth and the heavens out of the nothingness of the Void. Now keep in mind that since they created it, they could destroy it…if they wanted to.”

  “But I thought the Dhyana created the world?”

  Anasazi shook his head. “No. The Dhyana is the name given to the Creators’ firstborn children or the Nine Gods that mortals follow. Since they were the Firstborn and created from the substance of the Void, their connection to the Weave is stronger but their fate is still tied to this land.”

  Seeing his nephew nod in his understanding, Anasazi struggled to explain the secrets of the universe without breaking the Covenant and realized that it was not possible so he shifted the conversation to more immediate concerns.

  “As a child of the Dhyana, you have a similar destiny. Your lot is tied to the land and the land is tied to you…for good or evil.” Anasazi studied the face of his young protégé and knew that he really did not understand but he had no choice but to continue. “For the moment, just accept that what I’m telling you as fact. All will become clear at a later date but for now, you must meet the Elder Tree. There is a sacred glade deep inside the Great Forest that we must get to before the first rays of dawn.”

  “We are going to the homeland of the Elves? But I thought all borders are closed to outsiders.”

  “They are but we have a special pass that will allow us entrance. However, there are two things you need to remember. First, from this moment forward you need to keep your hood up and voice silent. And secondly if you do need to speak, only use Elvish.” Seeing his nephew nod, he added. “Also, while you are in the Elven realm you will be known as Isengrim Half-elven.”

  Graytael cocked his head to the side. “Isengrim?”

  “It is from an old language rarely spoken throughout Terreth now but it translates basically to your name. Isen means ‘silver or grey’ and Grim as ‘mysterious legend’ – so Grey-tale.” Anasazi smiled at his own cleverness.

  “And why do I need a false name?”

  “I am positive that there are agents of the great enemy inside the Elfholm and I do not want to take any chances. Only rarely are there any half-elven children born and even more rarely to a Highlander-Elf pairing. I do not want anyone putting two and two together. Trust me on this.”

  “I do uncle, I do. I was just curious.”

  Anasazi patted him on the shoulder. “You are very much like your father in that aspect. He had a very inquisitive mind but also very logical. It is a rare and valuable quality in a warrior. Always remember that.”

  Graytael found himself wondering why he was telling him things like this but just tried to accept it. The old shaman was always doing similar things. Teaching or telling him something that only made sense at a later time. As is he could foretell the future and wished to prepare him for it but was unable to accurately describe what was coming.

  They both fell silent as they entered a different part of the forest. It was a subtle thing at first. The trees were larger and older. The grass was greener and there was a lack of fallen leaves on the forest floor, almost as if it was eternally springtime in this region. When a herd of deer wandered across their path, Graytael immediately pulled out his bow and slapped an arrow across the riser.

  “Don’t shoot,” said Anasazi. “All the creatures in this region of the forest are protected by royal decree.”

  Graytael grimaced. “Sorry. Instinct.”

  “No reason to apologize but we are looking to avoid questions and having to explain your reasons of killing a hart to one of the Royal Wardens would complicate that issue.”

  Graytael nodded and unstrung his bow. That would slow down his ability to use it in response for any sort of danger but it would also prevent him from acting out of habit and offending the elves. Instead, he steeled himself to follow his uncle and keep his mouth shut.

  * * * * *

  By the time they stopped, it was near midnight and Graytael was stumbling with exhaustion. However, the ancient shaman seemed unaffected by the long day of hiking. Turning aside from the path, Anasazi found a clearing and pointed to a campfire that was already laid out and ready to light. “Start the fire and head off to bed. I will stand watch tonight. We shall be on the road before first light.”

  Graytael nodded and forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. He had started hundreds of campfires in his short life but never when he was so tired. In fact, he did not remember ever being so worn-out after a full day’s hike. Little did he know that Anasazi had been using his magic to speed their travel. They had traveled three times the normal distance in the same amount of time. Unfortunately, Graytael was not completely in tune with the Weave and it had sapped his strength.

  After a few strikes with his handy flint and steel, he had the fire going and without another word, moved to one side and fell asleep.

  The two ghosts appeared next to him.

  “That was a risky spell to use Ancient One,” stated Eldath.

  “True but it was necessary…both in bringing us closer to our destination and to force him to draw on the Weave for strength.”

  Red Crow nodded. “You know what’s coming don’t you?”

  Anasazi poked at the fire with a long stick. “Yes. I have foreseen several futures and no matter what happens in the very near future, there will be a time of darkness.”

  Eldath gazed down on his great grandson. “The strongest blade must pass through the hottest fire. Only then will its true temper be found. He must do the
same.”

  Red Crow nodded. “But Graytael is our only hope.”

  Anasazi took a deep breath. “Yes, but remember it is always darkest right before the dawn. No matter where his path leads, you two will be with him. That one thought comforts me.”

  “And so it begins,” said Eldath.

  “When Darkness Falls, only the Gods can foresee the outcome,” remarked Red Crow.

  Anasazi shook his head. “Don’t be too certain of that old friend. The Gods’ fate rests in the hands of a mere mortal and his destiny is uncertain.”

  Chapter 10

  It was a few hours before dawn when Anasazi awakened Graytael. The half-elf had expected to be sore and tired but was strangely invigorated upon waking. As he munched on a dried rations and smoked beef, the old shaman explained what to expect from the ceremony.

  “When you arrive at the sacred grove, Eldath will appear and shepherd you through the actual ritual. Remember, no one else will be able to hear or see him and it would be best not to let on that you are talking with a ghost. Even in the Elven kingdom that isn’t a good thing.” Seeing his nephew nod, he continued. “You will take your place in line with the rest of the neophytes and present yourself to the Elder Tree.”

  “And then what?”

  “I cannot say exactly since I have never been through the ceremony therefore you must rely on Eldath’s expertise at that point.”

  Graytael nodded his understanding and finished his breakfast. Gathering his equipment, he raised his hood and waited for the old shaman to rise. When he did not, Graytael cocked his head to the side in a silent question.

  Anasazi lifted his staff and stuck the tip in the campfire. Speaking a word in an unknown language, the fire flared up and a portal opened up inside the flame. “Step through and confront your destiny.”

  Judging from experience, Graytael knew he would not get anything more from his uncle. Therefore, he screwed up his courage and stepped into the flame. There was a brief flash of warmth and Graytael found himself standing at the summit of a small hilltop overlooking a glade deep inside the Great Forest. On the far side of the meadow was the largest oak tree he had ever seen. Without anyone telling him, he knew this was the Elder Tree. Even in the faint light of pre-dawn and the low hanging fog, it dominated the entire horizon. Wrenching his eyes from the Elder Tree, he could see hundreds of young elves calmly and quietly waiting in a long line. The ghost of Eldath stood beside them and beckoned him down.