by Heath Pfaff
There is no way back from here. The voice inside my head whispered.
The first of the guards to speak to us stepped forward. “You may follow me to the manor house. I will be certain you get an introduction with Lord Atreus.” He gave a short, stiff bow, and then turned and began walking. It was clear we were intended to follow, so we did.
I kept my eyes open as we crossed the large grounds that stretched out before the manor. Things were quiet here. No one moved about the gardens and open field between the house and gate. There weren’t even any other guardsmen patrolling, which seemed strange given what lay beyond the wall surrounding the place.
“You keep a light security force.” Arthos said, apparently having noticed the same thing I had.
“A stronger show of arms isn’t necessary.” The guard answered. “The light walls protects all of those within. Nothing from the dark can cross the border without coming through the gate, and we check everyone at the gate before allowing anyone through.”
“Are there many guests that come from beyond your walls?” I asked, interested in how frequently they actually had normal people come here. There seemed to be a process set in place for handling guests.
“Occasionally.” Came the answer, though it lacked any real information.
As we drew closer to the house I felt the slipping of the field of light. It was all around the walls, but it clearly didn’t extend so far as the house. I could feel the darkness creeping back onto me, crawling across my flesh almost like water when lowering yourself into a cool bath, like the water that had filled the tanks of the water test. More than just a chill, it brought with it a sense of disquiet and unease.
We reached the front doors and the guardsman knocked before turning to us. “You’ll leave your weapons with the guard inside, and then he’ll take you to meet the head of the house. Only our guards may carry weapons past the threshold.”
This seemed to give Arthos pause, and it did me as well. None of this place had exactly encourage a sense of trust that would make us want to give up our arms. We were dangerous without them, certainly, but having a weapon at hand in this troubled place seemed more than advisable.
“That will be a problem.” Arthos spoke calmly and clearly. “Nothing we’ve seen here makes me feel secure enough to give up my weapons.”
The guard turned in our direction, his eyes narrowing beneath his helm. “This isn’t a matter of negotiation. If you wish to come inside, you’ll leave your weapons behind.”
“Then perhaps we’ll simply be escorted out the other side of the property.” Arthos answered, and I could see his posture tensing, his stance widening a bit as he prepared himself for what may come next.
The guard opened his mouth to speak again, but then the door to the manor opened and two more armed men were standing just inside.
“Guests?” One asked. Unlike the men outside he wasn’t wearing a helm. He had blond hair that was cut short with blue eyes that were bright and vivid. He wore a fancier set of armor as well, one that looked partially ornamental and bore a house sigil on the chest. I didn't recognize the beast on his breast, something with wings and claws.
“They’ve refused to disarm.” The guard who’d guided us up to the doors said.
The blond man chuckled. “Can you blame them? It’s not exactly friendly out there.” He stepped aside and bade us enter. “Come along. You can keep your weapons. There is nothing to fear here, and once you’re convinced of that you can put your arms down and relax. The wall outside keeps the dark things where they belong. I’m Tolvot Artreus, heir to our noble Lord Artreus, my father.” He gave a sweeping bow as he stepped aside.
His confident and relaxed manner made it easy to trust him, and he’d let us keep our weapons. That seemed like a good sign. I could see Arthos considering his next move. He relaxed some. “We really don't intend to stay long. We have business we must attend to, but it would help us to get some further information about the situation here.” He stepped into the house.
I felt a bit uneasy about doing so myself, but I looked up at Dreea and gave a small shrug. We went where Arthos said we did. Dreea’s ears were up and twisting about, taking in all the sounds around us. I could tell she was anxious, though she was attempting to keep it in check.
“We stay close. Don’t separate.” She said softly but firmly, and then she followed through the door after Arthos.
I looked back at the guard who’d brought us to the house. His eyes gave no indication of whether he was angry, happy or completely indifferent. They were blank and uncaring. With a small sigh I followed after my two companions.
Tolvot was smiling as he shut the door, looking chipper despite the dreariness of the situation and the world around us. “We don’t get company nearly enough. I’m sure Lord Artreus will be exceedingly happy to see you.” He chirped as he began to lead us down the hall. “He’s in his sitting room at the moment. I’ll take you there and you can ask him whatever it is you’d like to know, though I can tell you that we have little enough information ourselves.”
“You keep those strange artifacts around the walls, the ones that seem to ward against the dark, why not on the house itself? It seems wise to keep such protective artifacts close at hand.” Arthos asked, and I thought it a rather clever question.
“Those were very difficult to come by and I’m afraid there aren’t that many of them. There effect seems to spread more easily through iron then wood, so it made more sense to set up a boundary at the wall then at the house itself. It would have actually taken us more of them to do the house, and this way we have a little bit more space to work with. It’s easy to feel trapped as it is.” Tolvolt answered, and his explanation made sense if true. I felt almost guilty for being suspicious, but the entire situation was strange.
“How long have things been like this?” Arthos’ next question came smoothly, and it was clear he knew what he wanted out of this encounter.
“A long, long while.” The lordling replied, and for a moment I detected a certain weariness in his voice. “It’s difficult to remember how long. Time is . . . well, it’s all fractured and split. It doesn't really move the way most people believe it does. Everything is happening all the time, all at once, but the individual moments can get stuck in place and that’s how . . . “ His voice trailed off. “My apologies. Things have been this way for some time. It does weigh on one after a while.” He gave a light laugh that sounded strained to my ears.
There wasn’t time for further questions because we reached a door and stopped. “Ah, here we are. Father’s study. One moment please.” He knocked on the door, and then, without waiting for an answered, he opened it and slipped inside. I briefly saw shelves of books and a desk, but I didn’t spot Lord Artreus before the door closed behind our guide.
“I don’t think we’re safe here.” Arthos spoke in a hush as the door closed solidly. I could barely make out his words
“I feel uneasy myself.” I voiced my unease, my eyes floating around the hall and taking in the details of our surroundings. It stretched back the way we’d come, and in the other direction I could just make out a framed piece of art on the wall and a sharp left turn to the hall. I guessed that the hallway ran the length of the house. It was somewhat unnerving in that it seemed, to my mind at least, that it was longer than the length of the house should have been.
Dreea moved closer. “Don’t smell anyone in the room. I don’t think anyone is in there other than Tolvot.”
“If they’ve really been here for a long time like this, how do they keep provisioned? There is no sign of farming, and the place doesn’t look self sufficient. This place feels like a snare meant to catch people like us.” Arthos spoke quickly. “I’m going to work to move us along and out of here as quickly as possible, but it might come to a fight. We’ll work our way . . . “ His words fell off as, one by one, the gas lit torches along the hallway began to flicker out, starting at the end furthest from us.
The dark fell heavily
where the flame vanished, moving in a straight line down the hall. I could see nothing in that void-like depth, but somehow it felt like something was moving ponderously down the corridor in our direction, it’s girth crushing the light from the flames.
I reached back and drew half of my weapon. Arthos did the same, though with his other hand he grabbed the handle to the door we’d been waiting near and turned it, or tried to turn it. It refused to open.
“Back.” Arthos said and we began to move down the hall away from the extinguishing lights. It felt a bit like we were running from nothing, but there was an urgency to the moment that was infectious. We didn’t want to fall into that darkness, and the only way to keep from doing so was to move.
We were keeping ahead of it, eyes scanning for a route of escape, but the hall seemed to stretch on indefinitely. We tried doors as we came to them, but they were always locked, and then the wave of fading torches began to move quicker. Suddenly we were running down the halls, the three of us racing against what amounted to no more than light being snuffed out at our backs, but the hall just kept going. I looked ahead of us and I could still only just make out the painting and the left bend in the hall. We weren’t actually making any progress.
This realization came at the same moment that everything went dark. There was a sharp hiss in the air and all of the gas lights extinguished. We stopped suddenly, the three of us falling back to back on instinct. I could only see a few feet down the hall in any direction.
The sound of a door unlatching echoed through the deep silence around us, though it was out in the sea of blackness beyond our range of vision. I felt the surge of Will before I realized what was happening. It was powerful and direct, and I turned my head just in time to see a door at our side rip off its hinges and fly into the room next to us.
“This way!” Arthos’ order came out quickly and he dove through the new opening. Dreea and I followed after, ducking out of the hallway and into a well lit study. In fact, as I took in the area around me I realized that it was the exact room I’d seen through the crack in the door moments before. I turned around and looked back through the doorway. The hall was lit, looking as it had before the torches had begun to go out. The only thing out of place about our current surroundings was the door that Arthos had blown free of its hinges.
I turned about the room, my eyes passing over the shelves and the desk, looking for another door or anything of interest in the room. It was empty but for the furnishings. A window, the heavy curtains covering it, was along one wall, but otherwise the office’s red and gold wallpaper covered everything in a somewhat loud, repeating pattern. Only the crackling fire in the hearth gave life to the otherwise lifeless room. There was no one else here. I could see that Arthos was confused. Dreea stood with a naturally wide stance, her hands at her sides, claws out and ready for anything.
“This place is impossible.” Arthos’ was agitated. “This isn’t just some space created inside one of the doors. Nothing could be manipulated like this.” I didn’t like that he was losing his relative calm. He was supposed to be in charge, to be experienced, and I thought it boded ill that he was getting beyond his depths. Where did that leave us as a group? I wasn’t fully trained, and poor Drea was only along to see the world.
I walked to the curtains along one wall and drew them open to look out the window. There was no window beneath the curtain, just more of the wallpaper. I put my hand on it to be certain of what I was seeing, but it was just plain wall. The curtains were false, but why?
“This place is malvo . . . malevelo . . . “ Dreea growled a bit. “Mal . . . evo . . . lent.” She managed to get the word out in bits, as though she’d never said it, but knew what it meant. “Its nature is dark, bad.”
“A place can’t be evil.” Arthos said quickly, very quickly. It almost came automatically to him, as though he didn't have to think about, as though he’d already been thinking it himself, repeating it to himself.
“Its nature is chaos.” I said softly, remembering my dream. “It wants to spread, but beyond that it is just madness.”
“If something like that existed we would know.” Arthos said. “The Wardens have studied hundreds of worlds. We know more about the nature of the universe than anyone.” Again he seemed to be trying to convince himself.
“You don’t know about this.” Dreea noted, which won her a frown from our troubled leader.
A sound in the hallway froze us in place. Arthos brought up his weapons, and I did as well. Dreea looked ready to spring. Something was moving in our direction, clear footsteps getting closer until a figure stepped into the doorway.
I cocked my head as it came into view because it took me entirely by surprise. It was a woman. She was dressed in clothing of a style that I recognized from our world, though it was clearly a bit old fashioned. She had blond hair that was tied back loosely, and rich dark skin the color of warm, dry soil, a soothing brown that was a beautiful contrast to her light hair. Her eyes were equally rich and warm. I’d seen some wealthier families that carried a similar look in their lineage, and she was dressed as one of them might have long ago.
“Cathra?” Arthos said, and the tone of his voice made me turn to look at him. It was a mix of shock, despair, and hope that I had never heard from him before.
“Arthos.” She replied, a smile, warm and open touching her face. “It has been such a long time.” She had an accent that I recognized from our world. It was lilting and soft, very pronounced, but it didn’t affect her clarity at all. It was a noble speech, but how was someone that Arthos knew really here? I kept my weapons ready, though Arthos had lowered his defenses.
“Cathra, you can’t . . . I mean, you were old when I . . .” His words fell away, voice choked with emotion.
The woman stepped into the room and I raised my weapons into a position that made it clear I was ready to fight. I did not trust this new person. Arthos didn’t seem to notice, and Cathra hadn’t seemed to either.
“You left without saying goodbye, my love. That hurt me so deeply. You told me you’d stay, but then one day you were gone and you never came back. I’ve been searching for you ever since.” Her voice was gentle, and she took another step into the room. I stepped between her and Arthos.
“Don’t move any further.” I said, forcing my voice to remain steady and firm. “You can talk from there.”
“Lillin, stand down.” Arthos’ voice snapped with anger. “This is . . . I know her. We can trust her.”
“Arthos, this place lies, and it plays tricks on us. Could this woman really be here?” I tried to reason with him.
“She . . . she was wealthy. She had resources. Maybe she . . . it could happen. Maybe . . . “ Arthos was looking for an excuse for her to be here. He wanted her here desperately. Who was she? “How did you get here?” He asked her directly.
“I told you, after you left I searched! I found a man who knew how to return youth to a person, and he taught me his secrets. Ancient magics, old gods, and they made me young and gave me the power I needed to come here and find you now.” She spoke smoothly, her tone soothing and calm. “I can help you get out of this city and back to your world.”
“How?” Arthos asked, his weapons at his side.
She stepped towards us again, closing the distance between myself and her to the point that she was well within the range of my weapons. “Blackened,” I growled. “Stand back or I swear I will put you on the ground.”
I felt the surge of Will before I knew what was happening, but suddenly I was slammed hard from the side and knocked to the ground roughly, the half of my weapon I’d been holding spinning away from one hand as I scrambled to roll back to my feet and right myself.
“Stop it, Lillin!” Arthos yelled, his voice angry and ragged, and his eyes full of rage and some deep pain.
I couldn’t believe he’d hit me. I righted myself, staring at him incredulously. “What are you doing, Arthos??” I demanded. “She is not what she says she is. She can’t be.
I don’t know who she is supposed to be, but it’s impossible for anyone we know to be here. You have to know that.”
“It’s not impossible! Just shut up and let me deal with this. I need to think!” His voice edged on desperation and rage, and it sounded nothing like the man I’d thought I’d known.
Dreea had fallen back to stand closer to me, and she looked worriedly between us. “Don’t fight. We are friends.” She said firmly.
“Yes, we’re friends, and I’m here to help, even if you don’t believe me.” Cathra said, shooting me an angry glare before looking back at Arthos. “It wasn’t easy to get here, but I knew you would need me. I worked so hard to come, and I can help you get free. I know where the door is, and I know the key to getting there safely.”
“I’m sorry I left you. I . . . was afraid to watch you die.” Arthos said, and now his voice was soft and raspy, full of an old pain. I just didn’t understand what had happened between these two, or at least between Arthos and who he thought this thing was. I didn’t believe we were really looking at a person from our world. Whatever our eyes told us, it just wasn’t possible.
