The Angel of Elydria (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 1)

by A. R. Meyering

  “I am the last surviving member of the Nelvirnee race and an enchanter of the Seventh Order of Seival,” Hector corrected.

  Simon blinked. “Well…there’s that,” he deadpanned, and it became apparent a lengthy explanation was in order.

  It took quite a bit of effort on Hector’s part to convince Simon that he was indeed from a world other than Earth or Elydria, and it took even longer before Simon was able to understand the situation they were in. Hector demonstrated his abilities by casting the universal communication spell on Simon, and he was placated by this small miracle.

  While Hector was elaborating, Penny’s gaze strayed to the pool as an idea nagged at her. Amongst the collection of dusty paraphernalia littered about, Penny spied a small bottle that still had a stopper. She glanced over at Hector and Simon to see they were still in heated discussion. Satisfied that neither would take much notice of her, she inched over to the bottle and wiped the dust off on her jacket. The enchanted spring was so deep and plentiful, and it was a rarity to be allowed access to it. Penny decided to fill up the small flask as stealthily as she could.

  Just a little couldn’t hurt. We get into so many dangerous situations that this might come in handy at some point, she thought, filling it to the top and stuffing it into the deep pockets of her coat.

  EVEN KNOWING ALL that they did, Simon remained skeptical and unsatisfied. “Are you sure that’s exactly how it happened?” he questioned. Hector nodded, and Penny could tell his patience was ebbing.

  “It’s just that―don’t you think it’s a rather striking coincidence that you just happened to be Penny’s teacher? I mean of all the classrooms in all the countries in the entire world, you two end up in the same one. The chances are phenomenal.”

  “Whatever the case, I think it’s safe to assume that Penny is not just the ordinary young lady that she so ardently tries to convince us she is,” Hector said, sliding his glasses back up his nose. “At first I thought you had somehow become the victim of a strange sort of magic surge, but in light of our recent discoveries I’d have to say that my opinion has changed. It simply cannot be a coincidence. All these events are happening for a reason—and I think they’re happening because of you, Penelope,” he proclaimed with such ominous decisiveness that Penny felt a stab of insecurity.

  “Well, this is the worst thing that could’ve happened,” he stated glumly. “I expected that you two would have all the answers, and more importantly, you’d know a way of getting back to Earth.”

  “We are currently looking into that. We’re on our way to the capital where there’s supposedly a large library that could be of some help. I have the ability to bring us back, I just need to figure out how,” Hector told him with some misgivings. It was clear to Penny that he didn’t trust Simon yet.

  “Oh God, please, take me with you! I’ll be butchered alive if I stay stranded here by myself. I don’t belong in this kind of environment—I’m sensitive. You two owe me, anyway,” Simon challenged, looking desperate.

  Penny scoffed. “We owe you?” she cried. “For what? Promising to kill me, then chickening out?”

  “I brought you that box, didn’t I? You haven’t even opened it yet! Maybe there’s something inside that will help us find a way back,” Simon urged.

  Penny examined the box in her hands again. A little golden latch flipped up with ease when Penny tried it. She glared at Simon. “You didn’t look inside this entire time?” She raised her eyebrows and he nodded. “Why do I not believe you?”

  Simon’s cheeks glowed pink and he cleared his throat. “Well, I might’ve tried to take just a little peek at one time or another. It wouldn’t come open when I tried to lift the lid,” he admitted, stroking his mustache.

  Penny laughed dryly under her breath and focused her attention back on the box. She hesitated for a moment before flipping the lid back. All that lay inside was a piece of thick, cream-colored paper with fancy golden writing scribbled onto it. The loopy script was written in English and Penny scanned it:

  My dearest Penelope,

  Though you may not remember who I am and have no reason to trust my words, believe me when I say I have been your protector since before your birth. Though I tried to keep you hidden and safe from those who would wish harm upon you, the cautionary measures I arranged have been breached. It grieves me to face this. I do not have time or energy enough to relay to you the importance of what is to come. I have but a few moments left.

  I must urge you to follow my instructions with the utmost haste; much more than just your life depends on it. You must travel to Mulgrith Woods on the continent of Crescia, which lies just south of the Goblin capital, Hulver. There you will find a witch who goes by the name Della. She will give you the information you seek. I truly wish I could tell you all that you are so desperate to know, and to personally ensure that you are safe, but I cannot. The consequences could be disastrous. I would give most anything to be by your side. Do not be afraid.

  My blessings are with you,

  Adrielle

  P.S.― If you find yourself lost in Mulgrith, use this. I’m sure you’ll know what to do with it.

  Penny looked up from the note and blinked several times. Use what? She passed the paper along to Hector and noticed a golf-ball sized orb of glass hidden below the letter. It appeared to be full of clouds of shining dust, swirling in a constant tornado behind the glass. Penny picked it up between her index finger and thumb and rolled it around, peering into its depths.

  “What is this thing? Is this what she was talking about in the note?” Penny wondered aloud. Simon and Hector watched her, their expectant eyes shining. “I have no idea what to do with it.”

  “Keep it safe until you do, then,” Hector advised her. Penny stowed the orb back inside the cherry pine box with care. Simon squinted at the note as Hector pulled his map out of his vest pocket.

  “What does this all mean?” Simon asked.

  “It means,” Hector said in an astute tone, “that we are going to have figure out a way to cross the ocean, seeing as Hulver is halfway across this world.”

  “Hold it, hold it. We’re just going to do what this note says without thinking this through at all?” Penny demanded, wondering if the author of the note could indeed be trusted.

  “Have you got a better idea? And didn’t Simon say that Adrielle wanted to be a help to us?” Hector replied, folding up the map.

  “I don’t think I said anything like―” Simon started, but Hector interrupted again.

  “Anyway, it says that this witch should be able to give us answers. I’m certain that means she’ll know a way to get back to Earth. That’s what you want, isn’t it? And even if this whole thing isn’t completely trustworthy, it’s the only lead we have. As long as we proceed with caution, I believe it should get us somewhere.”

  “Oh, all right! We’ll just cross the ocean, then! It’ll be fun! Though I don’t think Elydria’s got any cruise lines running, but that’s just a guess on my part. Hope you brought your floaties,” Penny sneered.

  Hector’s expression turned venomous for a moment, but then he shook his head and grinned with confidence. “We’ll ask Armonie and the High Priestess back at the sanctuary how to get there. They’re bound to know,” he assured her.

  “D-does this mean I can come with you?” Simon begged with an imploring smile. Penny and Hector looked at each other and considered. Simon removed his top hat and kneaded the brim in such a pathetic manner that Penny sighed.

  “I’d feel sort of bad leaving you here,” she shrugged.

  Hector furrowed his brow. “All right, I suppose. But I shall be watching you very closely. At the first sign that you may be involved in any sort of trickery, I shall be forced to exercise extreme punitive measures―is that understood?” he warned.

  Simon gave Hector a somewhat incredulous look but nodded. He kneeled and tried to kiss Penny’s hand. “Bless your merciful heart, you goddess among women. I am your humble servant,” he purred. She
wrenched her wrist away.

  “Don’t touch me,” Penny snapped. “Can we please go now?”

  In silent agreement, they exited the grotto and began the long climb out of the tunnel, emerging from the cave into the blackest part of midnight. The light chill in the air had become a biting, blustering wind. With care, Hector removed the High Priestess’s pendant from the notch in the door and it rumbled shut. The gateway to the Grotto now sealed, they wound along the gloomy forest path and fought their way back through the tall grass. Penny emerged into the cemetery and was greeted by the sight of the misty landscape. She smiled with grim determination.

  Now all that stands between us and safety is the graveyard.

  Discomfort struck Penny as she stepped among the gravestones. The mists rolled by in ghostly billows. Something had changed. She looked up at the large tree beside her; it seemed empty and bleak now. Penny puzzled over it for a moment, and then it hit her in a bloom of confusion.

  “Hey,” she whispered, taking a few steps back until the tree was in full view. “Those―those things from before. They’re gone.”

  Her eyes fell back on where Hector and Simon had frozen in place. Simon’s face was white, and it looked as if he were gasping for air.

  Penny craned her neck around, stumbling when she saw she was standing only yards away from an emaciated, limping figure shrouded in the mists. Scampering away at full speed, she took refuge between Simon and Hector. All three of them pressed close together, their backs against the weathered trunk of the tree as the figure stumbled closer.

  Its gait was disturbingly inconsistent. The thing held its long, thin limbs away from its body in a weird and clumsy manner as it scraped along the road. Stringy, matted hair hung in filthy tendrils around a hideous, skeletal body. Penny could hear its rasping breath echoing through the night; it appeared to be in great pain.

  “Wh-what is that?” Simon whispered in a horrified squeak, latching onto Penny.

  “I don’t know,” Penny breathed back, not daring to move. Hector was poised, ready to strike, and Penny felt magic flowing away from her.

  “Stay still,” he instructed, lacing his hands together in a strange pattern. The figure grew closer, and the huge cloud of mist followed and enveloped them. Penny gripped Simon’s cloak with all her might, listening to the rattling breath through the billows of mist that surrounded them. All at once the fog blew past and the creature stood only a few feet away, stark white and shivering with rage.

  Penny swallowed a scream at the sight of its face: a mangled human visage that looked like it had been dead and rotting for several weeks. The mouth was carved into a hideous smile with several flat, yellowing teeth tearing through raw, red gums. The eyes bulged twice the natural size and were rimmed in an angry scarlet flesh.

  Penny felt a surge of magic around Hector as a flash of light and an explosion of silvery rune coils plowed into the earth in front of them. A shower of dirt burst upward, and Penny and Simon shielded their eyes as a cacophony erupted. When the racket subsided and the air cleared, Penny opened her eyes and blinked around.

  Simon was still sputtering and coughing beside her while Hector stood panting, his eyes haunted and his hands trembling. On the ground where the creature had stood only moments ago was a round disc of stone, placed firmly within the earth. Penny gaped at Hector.

  “What did you do?” she gasped, still trying to catch her breath. Hector wiped his brow.

  “I sealed it inside the ground,” he huffed, stumbling back and leaning against the tree, his entire body shaking. The spell had been difficult to perform, Penny realized.

  “You mean that thing is still alive?!” Simon wheezed in a high-pitched whine, scandalized. “Why didn’t you kill it, for God’s sake?!”

  Hector looked down at his shoes, brushing the hair out of his eyes and gripping the tree trunk behind him for support. “I should like to avoid killing, if at all possible,” he explained, his voice monotone. “I’m sure the priestess will know what to do with it. I’ve no doubt this is one of the wraiths she spoke of. Now if we don’t get back this instant, I fear I shall collapse.”

  Simon stared at him, and then pulled out his wand. “I can help with that―I figured this little trick out while tailing you two. It doesn’t go as fast as your beast, but it’s definitely better than walking,” Simon said, flourishing the wand. With a small crack, a shower of colored sparks combusted and a fluffy white substance began to form in the air. The puffy substance congealed until a cloud bobbed just a few feet away from Penny, big enough for the three of them to sit upon. Penny tested it with her hand and found it to be buoyant. She and Simon jumped on and helped Hector aboard.

  “All right, here we go,” Simon announced. The cloud rose a few feet in the air, bucking and bouncing, and they all made a noise of surprise. “Sorry, I haven’t really got the hang of this thing yet―you’d better hold on to something,” he apologized.

  “YOU SURVIVED...THANK HEAVEN,” the High Priestess beamed out from behind the sanctuary doorway at the three of them. Hector bowed his head and handed the pendant back to her.

  “Madam Priestess,” Penny began, feeling shy and awkward, “I want to tell you how thankful I am, but I can’t express my gratitude in words. I owe you my life.”

  The priestess laughed in a maternal way and ushered her into the sanctuary’s lofty entranceway with a supportive hand on Penny’s back. She latched the door behind her.

  “Just to see you are safe, child, is good enough for me. There is no need to thank me,” she said, and then looked back to Simon. “And I see you’ve come back with a friend.” Simon waggled his fingers in a half-hearted, nervous wave.

  Hector shot him a quick scowl. “Yes. We’ve been searching for him―for some time now. It is very fortunate we crossed paths,” he replied, staring at Simon.

  “How fortunate, indeed,” the priestess said, a hint of doubt in her voice. She took them into a side corridor off the entry chamber.

  “M-Madam, I’m afraid I have some upsetting news,” Hector began.

  The High Priestess stiffened but turned with unwavering grace, waiting for him to continue. “It seems we might have run into one of the wraiths you described earlier,” Hector said.

  Her expression sharpened. “What did you do when you found it?”

  “I sealed it inside the ground. It shouldn’t be able to get out, but it was not harmed,” Hector assured her. The priestess’s expression softened and she breathed a sigh.

  “Commendable decision, brother. Now I can properly send it on to the Dawn Mirror,” she said with a smile, touching his shoulder.

  “What does that mean?” Simon interjected. She glanced at him, seeming to find humor in his outburst. Her deep gaze passed over each of their faces for a moment, as if sizing them up. She gave a little musing laugh that sounded more like a hum.

  “Where did you say you came from, again?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Penny’s heart leapt. They glanced at one another and muttered some unintelligible sounds, trying to look as innocent as possible.

  “As the province’s High Priestess, I have the ability to help lost souls find their way to the Dawn Mirror, or ‘spirit world’ as you might think of it. You might’ve even come across some wayward souls in the graveyard this evening, I presume? It is because a soul generally stays near its earthbound body for a certain period of time after dying.”

  Penny thought of the pale, luminescent entities that drifted in the night sky. A meaningful glance from Hector told her he had made the same assumption.

  “Mostly we just use this ability to help the lost ones make their way along to the Dawn Mirror when needed, and in some rare cases, help with a malevolent or disruptive soul. However, this ability can be used for another purpose, as well,” she confessed, her face growing taut, “to release wraiths from their misery. Many Ages ago, a discovery was made in a particular field of magic―nomamancy, to be exact.”

  “Sorry, I failed out of school. Grew up on a fa
rm―all that nonsense. Would you mind reminding me what nomamahhncy is, again?” Simon interrupted once more, and the priestess raised an eyebrow at his pronunciation.

  “Nomamancy is the sacred art of name divination, or the manipulation of power over a name. It’s generally used by our Order for emotional healing and guidance,” the priestess told Simon, then continued on with what she was saying prior to his interruption. “However, three Ages ago, a very misguided nomamancer, Gilder the High Priestess of Trulle, began to study ways of misusing eidolorbes to try and capture the souls of the living or recently deceased against their will―” The priestess stopped, noting her audience’s look of confusion and sighed, seeming frustrated with having to explain simple, everyday concepts. The priestess reached inside her pocket pulled out a crystal orb attached to a long, silver chain.

  “This is an eidolorbe. It’s a vessel for carrying souls. As I was saying, the misuse of these objects was discovered many hundreds of years ago. It is a twisted form of magic that abuses the very principles on which nomamancy is based. If one uses an eidolorbe to steal the name of a person, alive or recently deceased, one can take full control over the individual. The seizing of the name creates a schism between the body and soul, and the person’s body is transformed into something frightful―an abomination, which we call a wraith.”

  “W-wait a moment,” Simon stuttered. “Do you mean to say that someone is going around ripping people’s souls out and turning them into monsters like that…thing from the graveyard?”

  The priestess nodded and Simon’s skin took on a greenish coloration. “Sadder still, the wraith becomes an extension of the master, which means they can be fully manipulated to do whatever the master wills. Or simply be left to wander in unimaginable pain and rage,” she said, her voice heavy.