The Holtur Enigma (The Holtur Trilogy)

by Cameron Wayne Smith

  “Vivian, wake up,” a voice startled him from the darkness. He didn’t hear the person approaching, which only fortified his thoughts on how useless his abilities were.

  “Who is it?” Vivian whispered back.

  “It’s me, Kallum,” the voice in the darkness responded, “it’s second moon, the sun will be up soon. You’re coming with me to oversee the capturing of the shroud.”

  “Coming with you?” Vivian’s voice raised above a hush quiet. “We should stay inside where it is safe. Your father—your sister—would kill me if they knew I took you outside with the shroud about.”

  “Stop being a coward.” Kallum punched him in the arm, which despite his small stature, packed a bit of power. “You’re coming along. I need someone with me in the event I require my elixir. If you choose not to come, I’ll just throw you out of my house.”

  “Why not take your sister or father?” Vivian was terrified of the way this was going. “Surely they’d be able to protect you better than I!”

  “They’d protect me alright,” Kallum whispered with discontent. “They’d throw me back into my bed, and watch over me until the shroud had left. I didn’t fake that last episode for nothing.”

  “You faked that?” Vivian choked. “Why?”

  “I easily sleep through both moons after an episode,” Kallum said, a smugness rising in his voice, “it was the only way I could make this all happen.”

  “You’re mad!” Vivian couldn’t understand a reason to put themselves in danger, especially as there would be a corpse to check on later, if the plan was a success.

  “You’re mad…” Kallum argued back like a child who wasn’t getting their own way. “This is history in the making! The first shroud to be captured, we will be remembered for all eternity!”

  Vivian knew that Kallum was talking about himself. He knew that no one would remember simple old Vivian. There were no place in the history books for someone who just watched events unfold, even if it was great men working a genius’ plan. He also knew that Kallum was committed enough to throw him to the shroud if he refused to tag along. “Alright then Kallum, let’s make history.”

  “Take this,” Kallum said, then threw a large heap of animal fur onto the bed. “It’s Dad’s, but should help keep you warm. The moons are exceptionally cold on Glacious’ approach.”

  “Thanks.” Vivian began layering up, then wondered who would kill him first, the shroud, Sonja, or Kaine. “This will definitely keep me safe.”

  “And take this for me.” Once rugged up, Kallum handed over a small vial of elixir. “Hopefully I won’t need it, but carry it just in case.”

  Kallum then quietly led them through the house. After exiting the front door, he tilted the large interior locking mechanism, making sure it clicked into place after leaving the house.

  “Locked us out then?” Vivian began to shake, whether from the cold or fear he was unsure. “Great plan!”

  “We are going through with this!” Kallum began hastily walking towards his contraption. “And if I left it unlocked, the shroud could get in. Have you got any idea what the shroud would do if they got in?”

  Vivian really didn’t appreciate the talking up of these things given the circumstance. “I’d much rather not think about it all the same…”

  Kallum continued crunching across the icy footpath towards their destination. Second moon was probably shining bright, but a thick cloud band kept it from view. All that illuminated their path were the small flames flickering away within the streetlights, but even they could barely light up this darkness. They did, however, light up the fog that appeared before Vivian’s face every time he exhaled, reminding him of what was approaching.

  The sound of equine screeching in the distance obliterated the silence. It was obviously a horse making the noise, but it was far from a sound Vivian had ever heard one make before. It was like it had been spooked, started to cry out, then mid scream, its body began to be altered. The sound was followed up by more horses repeating similar noises, only the sounds became more distorted, more muffled.

  “Shit,” Kallum whispered aggressively, then began to run, “they’ve busted into one of the stables!”

  “Shouldn’t that at least slow them down?” Vivian began to chase after him.

  “The fog from Lachtod Bog, the shroud, it is gigantic!” Kallum began to speed up, displaying the urgency of the situation. “Just shut up and run!”

  There was no point wasting any more breath on words. They continued to run through the dimly lit streets, their speed increasing with the screams of each beast slaughtered in the stables. Holtur felt a lot more linear during the sun, well, at least where Vivian had ventured to. This moon, however, he was being led through little back streets, and down winding roads he didn’t realise existed. Their sprint finished upon entering an alley with a dead end.

  “Where’s the blasted fire?” Kallum screamed like a spoilt child, one who wasn’t getting his way.

  A wooden creak responded, followed by a loud slam. The mock wall had been pushed down, revealing the bladed contraption, and five men. “Kallum? What are you bloody well doing here?” one of the men asked.

  “Well, Rigst, about as much as you by the looks of it!” Kallum yelled at the man. “Where’s the fire? Do you want to get yourselves killed?”

  “We tried to build one, but it’s too damp of a moon to do so.” Rigst looked around. “And there is no fire pit.”

  “Why did my sister have to pick a bunch of idiots…” Kallum shoved past the much stronger, fitter man, then began to dig in the snow by the large blade. “Are you going to help, or just watch?”

  The five men hurried over, helping Kallum reopen the fire pit. It had been filled with a slurry of ice and snow. Knowing there was no time to waste, Vivian rushed over, gouging into the snow with his hands, helping the dig. The icy slurry felt like it was piercing through his skin, into his bones, despite the fact he was wearing thick gloves. Two of the men were digging without any protection, it was no wonder the people of Holtur had such powerful hands!

  “How do we make the fire?” one of the thicker men asked.

  “Listen Knoch, I need you to smash up that false wall,” Kallum said with sarcastic grin, “with your head. Then put the timber in the pit. Can you do that?”

  “I’m on it!” Knoch nodded, then proceeded to pound his shiny bald head into the wall, smashing it to splinters.

  “Rigst,” Kallum called out to another man, “there’s a barrel full of wyvern oil behind the blade, douse the wood!”

  “On it!” Rigst and another man raced over to the large red barrel.

  “Once they are done, light it up Lou!” Kallum moved himself behind the blade, watching the two men douse the wood with the viscous black oil.

  “Ah…” Lou nervously spoke, “the candles have all died.”

  Kallum looked back out to the main street. “Race over with a piece of wood, ignite it on the streetlight, and get back here, quick!”

  “Right!” Lou didn’t hesitate. He grabbed an arms length of timber, then dashed off at a speed Vivian had not seen a human achieve.

  “Vivian!” Kallum demanded. “Position yourself behind the blade, now!”

  “Y-yes…” Vivian stuttered. He didn’t want to be out here with the shroud approaching, and seeing how wrong things are going, made him want to be here even less.

  “Come on! Take, damn it!” Lou yelled at the piece of wood, indicating that he may have grabbed timber that was water logged, rather than oil soaked. “I can’t get it to burAAAARGH!” his screams were swiftly cut short. The fog had caught up with him, releasing thousands of claws from the edge of its mist and through his body. It looked like he had exploded, with blood, skin, bone, and organs rupturing out in all directions. Then, he imploded, all the giblets that once formed his body, were absorbed by the fog, consumed by the shroud.

  “Shit, does anyone have a way to make fire?” Kallum desperately asked the men.

  Vivian
began grabbing at his pockets, then remembered he wasn’t wearing his trench coat. That small flint lighter, one that a merchant had charged way too much for, would have been worth its weight in gold if he had it right now. “Ugh, if only… if we get through this, I’ve got a gift for you!”

  “When you get through this!” a voice called out from down the lane, up high in one of the buildings.

  “Volk!” Kallum screamed. “Give us fire, NOW!”

  The frizzy ginger leant further out his window, revealing a crimson bow. He pulled an arrow from his back, watching the fog creep slowly towards the men who were miserably failing at building a fire. With a wink of his eye, the arrow tip seemed to ignite a bright orange flame. The arrow was released, and the wyvern oil ignited with a mighty roar.

  “That’s now two you owe me northerner!” Volk began to chuckle, plucking another arrow from its quiver, and taking aim at the fog once more.

  The walls of the building were now surrounded by shroud, and only the fire kept the horrors from entering. Scrapes of clawing and scratching at the walls, were a constant reminder of the horrors surrounding them. Arrows of flame buried into the fog, creating a tunnel of dry air, but hitting none of the clawed monstrosities within. The sound of the clawing and banging at their walls grew louder, and the fog drifted further into the dead end alley.

  “I’m locking up now!” Volk called out from his window. A high concentration of fog were climbing up to his position, forcing his retreat. “Good luck bagging one of those bastards!”

  “Peddle!” Kallum demanded of the scouts. “Vivian, get on the last set of peddles. We’re down a scout, but we need to separate the fog, NOW!”

  Vivian’s heart was pounding in his chest, with more intensity than the shroud upon the walls. He couldn’t even summon words in his throat before he had leapt upon the bicycle-like setup and had begun peddling like mad. The blade at the front of the contraption was rotating with good speed, blasting dry, hot air from the inferno, and into the fog.

  “It’s working, it’s working!” Kallum cheered. “The fog within the alley is cut off from the main body!”

  “Excellent!” Vivian panted, the adrenaline and exhaustion had begun to equal him out, allowing him to form words once more. “How long do we need to keep this up?”

  Rigst turned around with a smug grin. “Until the sun comes out and forces the fog to retreat from Holtur.”

  “Don’t push too hard Vivian!” Kallum must have noticed how hard he had started. “Better to keep going then burn out fast. We have done the main part already. The fog is separated, we just need to keep it that way.”

  “Right…” Vivian tried to relax himself as much as he could. How hard could it be? The fog had come, they had won, now he just had to wait it out while peddling.

  After a while, the shroud seemed to become aware that it was merely this fragile building keeping the fog separated. The increasing aggression upon the walls confirmed its desire to change the situation. Peering out into the alley, it was noticeable that the bladed contraption was also shrinking the size of the trapped fog.

  “Keep it up a little longer and they’ll have no fog to hide in!” Kallum’s voice sounded cruel, like a child playing the bad guy, excited to finally decimate an enemy.

  “The bastards are finally going to pay for what they did to Ferdell,” Rigst howled, like he was about to burst into tears, “and Lou…”

  “I’m gonna smash ‘em!” Knoch begun to laugh, like he had heard an incredibly funny joke.

  “This is the last time we fear the shroud!” one of the scouts said, followed by another cheering with agreement. “Never again!”

  Vivian couldn’t help but wonder who the real monsters were. Kallum and these slayers seemed to take such delight in murdering the unknown. Then he thought of the serpents, and how much he, and the people of Silverton wanted them gone. The slams on the walls grew even louder, confirming that he too, would much rather the shroud be dead than alive.

  “I can see one!” Kallum exclaimed. “Ha! With the fog shrinking, they seem to be fighting each other to remain within!”

  “What do they look like?” Vivian’s curiosity peaked.

  “I can’t see too well from here,” Kallum admitted, “but not much. They appear skinny and fragile, even more so than you Vivian! Their skin looks almost clear, except for their big black eyes and large white talons, they don’t look like much at all!”

  “How are they handling the dry air?” Vivian wanted to know if they would be a threat outside the fog.

  “They aren’t,” Kallum confirmed. His facial expressions changing rather animatedly with each shroud that fell from the fog. “All the ones we’ve trapped in the alley, they’ll be dead soon!”

  “Should we stop peddlin’ then?” Knoch suggested. “Let in more of the bastards to die?”

  “No,” Kallum spoke out against the rest, “we do not know what will happen to the shroud if it reconnects with the fog. The others may return to collect their dead, or worse…”

  “Or worse?” Vivian hated hearing those words, usually things in Holtur seemed to steer clear from the better.

  “The fog could revive them,” Kallum returned, “and we could really use their corpses.”

  “Of course…” Vivian sighed.

  “By Ralumina…” Kallum began to slowly edge back towards the others. “It’s still alive?”

  “What is it?” Rigst called out in a macho voice, like he was itching for a fight.

  Kallum turned to look at them. “The fog is gone, but one of the shroud still remains!”

  The creature stood out in the darkness, barely moving. Vivian could see it from his station, appearing just as Kallum said, incredibly skinny, cloudy see-through skin, big black eyes, and even bigger claws. At the bottom of its head was an insect like mouth with clawed mandibles. The shroud was out of proportion, but terrifying none the less. Its movement, however, was not something to be feared, it was slow, real slow. It almost appeared as though without the fog, gravity was too much for it to bare.

  “Puny looking thing!” Rigst laughed, then turned to look at Vivian. “I bet even your friend here could take it out!”

  “Cut it out!” Vivian whipped back, he wasn’t a fighter, but he didn’t appreciate being made fun of. Rigst was right though, as the creature was, even Vivian would be capable of felling it.

  Rigst continued to laugh. “Go on then northerner, show us how it is done!”

  “Fine!” Vivian disembarked from his set of peddles. It had been quite a while since he had ridden a bicycle—or bicycle-type blade spinner—and his legs felt weak, forcing him to almost tumble to the ground.

  “You need a fog to carry you or somefin’?” Knoch made fun of Vivian’s condition.

  “I’m fine…” Vivian managed to recuperate his ability to walk and moved towards the fog-less shroud.

  “NO!” Kallum stood before the creature. “If we can hold this one, alive, until the fog burns off, the Bristrunstium could engage in all kinds of study with it.”

  “Aren’t the corpses enough?” Vivian spoke, and the creature slowly turned its head towards him. Its big black eyes seemed not to change, but he felt they were studying him, absorbing his every word.

  “The more we can study the better!” Kallum looked back to the creature, watching its head slowly turn away from them. “Besides, do you really think this guy here is a threat?”

  After allowing Kallum to finish speaking, the shroud decided to add its own noise to the conversation. Its mandibles began to vibrate, tapping each other with high clicking noises, while the fleshy neck began inhaling air. Once it appeared its neck was about to explode, it stopped clicking, then released the air in a series of high pitch squeals. Everyone swiftly brought their hands up to their ears, covering up from the shrilling noise, waiting for that sac of air in the creature’s throat to deflate.

  Once the screech had ended, the shroud had stopped smashing at the walls, and everything seemed to bec
ome quiet. Vivian began to wonder if perhaps the shroud were asking for peace if we let this one live? Or maybe the sun has finally risen to push away the fog?

  Breaking the silence, one of the other scouts made a comment. “If it tries to do that thing again, pop its bloody throat.”

  His sentence finished with a loud crashing noise, and the wall by him splintered. A claw shot in from the outside, puncturing his throat, spilling blood everywhere.

  “They’ve breached the room!” Knoch reported the obvious.

  “Shit!” Kallum looked around trying to calculate a backup plan. “We need to burn the building!”

  “What? While we are still in it?” Vivian looked at him like he was mad.

  “The shroud won’t chase us through flame!” Kallum had already pulled a beam of wood from the fire and was holding it up against the building.

  “No point peddling now!” Rigst leapt from his seat, swinging his sword out in front of him. Probably not to try and fight the shroud, but it couldn’t hurt to have a sharp object between him and the safety of their fog. The other scouts were all doing the same thing, edging away from the fog towards the original fire.

  “We need to secure one of the corpses,” Kallum urged, clearly more focused on his objective than survival.

  Vivian was equally confused and angered. “The fog, full of shroud, are slowly edging towards us, and that’s what you are thinking about?”

  “We’re going to end up in the alley anyway!” Kallum dashed into the alley, stepping between the corpses, as though he was figuring which would be the best specimen to study. “Come help me with this, unless you want to try fight the things?”