The Damned: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Tales of the Feisty Druid Book 6)

by Candy Crum

  "Listen to my voice, Christopher. You're safe. This is a dream. Turn now and face him. Face your captor."

  He still felt terrified; his entire body shook as he heaved breaths, tears streamed down his face. He could feel the blood running down his back, and he couldn't understand how it could possibly be a dream.

  "This is a nightmare of your own creation,” the voice soothed. “You allow your subconscious to control you, but you are in control. Turn now and take that control back from him."

  Slowly, Christopher turned, his eyes coming to rest on Aeris' angry face. The dark druid jumped forward, kicking him again hard in the side. Christopher cried out as he gripped the spot that Aeris’ boot had torn open just a moment before.

  "I can't! I can't. It's real…" He sobbed again, shaking his head. How many times had he convinced himself he was dreaming? How many times had he convinced himself he was crazy? This time was no different.

  "You aren’t going anywhere," Aeris said. "You're here with me forever."

  The room seemed to lighten a bit as the angelic voice once again swept through the cave. "He is just a man, as are you. But the man you face here—the man that torments you still—is dead. He can never hurt you again. Arryn saw to that, remember?"

  Arryn…

  He remembered his beautiful daughter. She was so sunshiny and sweet, running around in her little dresses, and playing with her dolls. Such a beautiful child—and so smart, too. Just like her mother.

  But then he remembered someone else. A woman, fully grown, long, beautiful black hair reaching all the way down her back, and a strong, well-built body, achieved by years of rigorous combat training. He saw her eyes: a terrifying glimpse of black and green as the wind began to swirl and the skies began to darken.

  Arryn. My little girl.

  Slowly, things began to come back to him. He looked up from the ground, quickly finding the eyes of his captor. "You're dead."

  Aeris laughed. "Excuse me? How can I be dead when I'm right here with you?" he once again jumped forward, kicking out at Christopher's face.

  Only this time, Christopher caught his foot.

  Aeris' eyes widened as he watched the man rise to his knees, still holding his foot. Christopher pulled, and Aeris went flying forward. Christopher caught him by the throat and slammed him down to the ground before straddling him.

  "Years! You took years from me! I could've found her long ago, if you would have just let me go. I could have been with her. I could've given her the father she needed while growing up! You took everything from me." He paused and then a dark smile crossed his face. "But she repaid the favor. She gave you exactly what you deserved."

  The room seemed to grow warmer then, the heat washing through him as he felt his hands gripping at nothing. Aeris had disappeared, and the world around him was dramatically changing.

  He was standing in an open field, watching his daughter call upon her power. It had been unlike anything he had ever seen. Not even his beautiful late wife had been able to use so much.

  "She's stronger than I ever could've imagined," he said to himself.

  "And you gave that to her," came the angelic voice again. He looked to his right to see Zoe standing next to him. It had been her voice speaking to him the whole time, guiding him. "Your sacrifice gave her the power to save thousands. If you hadn't done what you did, thousands would have remained enslaved. It was because of you that she grew up the way she did. Let go of the demons that tell you otherwise. You did not fail her; you gave her every tool she needed to succeed."

  He gasped as his eyes flew open, and he sat bolt upright in bed. Elysia was sitting at the foot, her eyes glowing, and her hands on his ankles, pushing warmth through him as Zoe sat on the floor next to him, her eyes white as she held his hand.

  Each of the women let go, pulling back and allowing her eyes fade to back to their normal color. Zoe gave him a soft smile. "Welcome back. How do you feel?"

  Christopher reached up and wiped his forehead. He couldn't believe how well that had worked. He had been suffering from nightmares for years, and waking up in the morning still inside of them.

  Now he was freed, and he awoke to kindness and support.

  It had been Zoe's idea for Christopher to sleep and allow her to navigate his dreams. She was curious to see if she could heal the parts of his brain still affected by the trauma.

  The dream he had experienced was a memory of something that had once happened. Aeris had ordered Jace to poison Christopher, hoping it would drive him permanently insane; but the substance had no mental effects whatsoever. It only physically tortured him.

  Zoe had navigated through the dream along with him, while linking Elysia in as well. Once Elysia was able to feel the pain, she began to push her healing power through him. While it wasn't nearly as effective as Zoe coaching him to face the man he feared so much, he certainly felt much better.

  Perhaps the effects of both were something to explore more.

  "How do you feel?" Zoe asked.

  He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to still his racing heart. "Triumphant. Like I defeated him."

  Elysia rubbed a gentle hand over his ankle. "That's what we were hoping for. I'll be honest; I don't know anything about the mind or how it works. This is all a first for me, but I'm open to try anything. I would love to see you succeed, Christopher."

  He smiled as he looked at her with warmth. "Thank you. More than you know."

  "You mean a lot to Arryn, and therefore you mean a lot to me. You're a good man, and you have proven yourself to be a man worth saving. I hope to once again look into the eyes of the man who protected my son and his daughter while his wife fought off a lycanthrope. I know that with a little more work, we will meet again."

  Christopher was almost brought tears again as he thought about being that strong. He wanted to take up sword fighting again, but he was afraid to ask. He was afraid to stand with the other warriors of the tribe, knowing he might not have it in him anymore.

  He also worried he might have some sort of flashback and freak out. It would take time, but he was willing to do whatever it took to get his mind back and be everything his daughter needed.

  Smiling, he said, "I think I'll go to the pit today and watch all the classes."

  Elysia smiled. "You'll do better than that. I think today you’ll help me on the side. We'll hand out weapons, and call out winners—together."

  His smile grew, liking that even more. He nodded. "Sounds like fun."

  CHAPTER TEN

  After leaving the cabin, Arryn and Cathillian had headed directly north. It took the rest of the night, but they found a small village where Arryn had been kept on her way to the mountain. It was the same village where she had stopped and met the blacksmith upon her return.

  When they reached the small, modest house she was looking for, she dismounted. Turning to Snow, she gave her a scratch behind the ear and down her jawline as she liked, before kissing the side of her head.

  "Thank you, Snow," Arryn said and made her way to the door.

  "You sure this is the one?" Cathillian asked stepping up beside her.

  Arryn nodded. "Oh, yeah. Can't forget it."

  She reached up, knocking three times before lowering her hand. It was early morning, so she wasn't sure if he would be inside, or in the shop somewhere. She was about to knock again when the door opened.

  Shock and then recognition registered on the man's face. "Arryn?" he asked, smiling. "You're back!"

  She smiled and nodded. "I am. This time I brought a friend. Roger, this is Cathillian. Cathillian, Roger."

  Cathillian placed his fist over his chest, saluting him in a way his own people did, but Roger just extended his hand. Cathillian smiled and took it to shake.

  "Nice to meet you. Arryn spoke very highly of you, and I appreciate you helping her when she was on her way back from the mountain," Cathillian said.

  The smith pulled his hand back, waving off the comment. "It was no problem at all. S
he needed help, and after what I knew she'd been through, I figured it was the least I could do. Bitch and Bastard!" He exclaimed as his eyes wandered between the two of them to see Snow.

  Arryn laughed, stepping out of the way.

  "Is that her? Is that the same tiger you had before? She's huge! She's even bigger than she was when I last saw you!"

  "Apparently, that's the magic of being a familiar. You should see her baby. He hadn’t gotten any bigger than what you saw, not even an inch, until last week. He's been growing like a weed since then," she said.

  Roger laughed, stepping back, out of the way. "You guys are more than welcome to come in. Snow, you can, too, if you can fit through the door."

  Snow grumbled at him, but she managed to squeeze through. She walked into the main room and flopped down on the floor, using her claws to rake the rug up under her head to use as a pillow.

  Arryn rolled her eyes and shook her head at the sight.

  "So, what brings you guys all the way up here? Not that I'm not happy to see you; I'm actually very happy to see you made it through. I assume you were successful, yes?" Roger said.

  Arryn nodded. "I was very successful. I killed Talia that very night; the mystic she had working with her, I went back for later."

  He smiled. "Good. I'm glad you were able to help your people. After you survived everything that you did, I had no doubt you'd make it."

  She looked to Cathillian for a moment before turning back to the blacksmith. "Actually, we came here because we've been met with another challenge."

  Roger was in the kitchen area, putting water in a pot to boil over the fire. "Challenge? What are you up to now?"

  "We recently suffered an attack from a tribe of dark druids who want to take the Dark Forest for themselves. We lost several people in the attack, including our blacksmith and his apprentice, and all of our weapons are shot from constant training and use.”

  Roger listened as Arryn told him about the many battles they had already faced, how often their people trained, and that another battle was coming soon.

  "Well, I'm glad you came to me, then. I'm sorry it got so bad for you, but we'll get this taken care of now," he assured her with a smile.

  As they made their way to the shop behind the house, Arryn looked around, thinking about the last time she had been there. "Whatever happened to the widow?"

  The widow was the nickname given to Talia’s mother. She’d had many husbands who had all met with mysterious deaths. Everyone believed she had been the cause, but it had been Talia, her daughter. She had begun killing them as young as five. Her obsession with her insane father, Adrien, had driven her to do unbelievable things—even as a child.

  Roger smiled and shook his head. "You wouldn't even recognize her. You freed her that day."

  Arryn's brows furrowed, planting confusion on her face. "How do you mean? I'm assuming you're talking about Talia’s death, but how did she change?"

  "After you left, I invited her inside to sit with me. Given that her child was about to be killed, and she had helped in taking her down, I figured she could use a friend. I made her a cup of tea, and she opened up about what it was like to raise her. It seems all the rumors were true.

  "We talked for several hours, and then suddenly, it was like night and day. One second we were chatting, and she seemed just as she always had whenever I had run into her. The next, tears welled in her eyes and she began to cry. When I asked her what was wrong, all she said was, 'It's done. It's over’."

  Arryn was taken aback. "She knew when I killed her?"

  He shrugged. "I don't understand it, either. I don't know if she has a form of mental magic, or if it was just mother's intuition. Either way, she said she could just feel it."

  Arryn nodded. Roger led them into the shop, and he went to work firing up the forge. Arryn looked around, admiring how well everything was set up and how organized it was. "How has she been since then?"

  He grabbed a long piece of steel from the barrel and laid it out on the table while waiting for the fire to get hot enough. "She’s been great. She goes to the marketplace with the hood of her cloak down. She talks to people and smiles now. It's like she's a brand new person. She said it feels like she'd been asleep this whole time, and now she's finally awake."

  Arryn snorted. "I would certainly imagine so. I would assume it to be more like being stuck in a nightmare for thirty years, and someone finally coming along and waking you. I'm glad she's doing well. I thought about her a few times, but I tried not to dwell on it. It was rather depressing, knowing I had to speak to a mother and tell her I was about to execute her daughter. She knew how horrible Talia was, though."

  Brushing a few stray hairs off her face, Arryn clapped her hands together and smiled. "Enough about that. What can I do to help? I can create more steel, if you need it."

  He nodded. "If you need an order as big as you say, I'm definitely gonna need some help. Why don't you go out back? There is a pile of stones back there. I like those in particular, because they transmogrify quite a bit easier than other things."

  Pointing to the long piece of steel laying on the table, he said, "If you can, create pieces of steel like this. If you want smaller weapons, like daggers, use the smaller stones." He looked to Cathillian. "If you want, you can go out back with her. There are several trees back there that I cut branches from for hilts."

  Cathillian nodded. "Sure. I can see about growing you a few extra trees, too, if you’d like."

  Roger smiled. "That would be great, thank you."

  Between Arryn and Cathillian, they were easily able to craft the bare bones for dozens of swords. She was able to create pieces of steel in varied lengths, and Cathillian was easily able to break the wood down into smaller chunks that could be filed into the shape of a handle.

  By the end of the night, even after an afternoon nap for all of them, they had created quite a lot of what they needed. But it took another day and well into the evening to finish.

  "I'm not gonna lie," Arryn said as she looked over the large pile of weapons that were now lying in the cart. "You’re kind of a badass. These blades are even better than the ones we had before, and you did this way faster than our smiths were ever able to."

  Cathillian laughed. "Yeah, you want a job? You can come live in the Dark Forest with us for a while."

  He and Roger laughed, but Arryn's face was serious as she looked to Roger. "Actually, that's not a bad idea. We don't have a blacksmith now, and I'm betting if you took a few teenage apprentices, they would be able to learn easier than the adults. If they learned the physical magic necessary, they could craft just as quickly, but I don’t see that happening. That part would have to fall on me. I've learned a lot today about smithing, but not enough that I would feel comfortable to go back and teach anyone how to do it."

  Roger’s face turned serious as he thought over her words. "Really? Go to the Dark Forest?"

  Arryn nodded. "Absolutely. It might be a while, but once the war is all over, we really need to train new blacksmiths. At the very least, you can teach them how to do the hammering and all that good stuff, and teach me more about transmogrifying. That way, I can help them. The first time I ever successfully did it was on that mountain; this was the second time. You’re apparently a great teacher, and I can definitely use the tutoring."

  His expression turned thoughtful for a moment, and then he started to nod. "Sure. Why not? I've always wanted to know what it was like in the Dark Forest; especially after meeting you, and now your friend. You're not nearly as scary as I thought you would be."

  Cathillian's eyes widened. "What? Not scary? Well, now you're just being rude."

  Arryn rolled her eyes at him, and the trio made their way inside. Roger made them a hearty stew and some tea. They sat and ate for quite some time, talking about what they might accomplish in the Dark Forest.

  Suddenly Snow perked up, immediately heading for the door.

  Everyone seemed alarmed except for Arryn, who had a nat
ural bond with the big cat. She could feel Snow’s excitement—not worry or apprehension.

  Arryn stood and made her way to the door. A light scratching noise echoed through the room just before she made it there. When she opened the door, she looked down and saw a very familiar white rabbit.

  Her face lit up in a big smile. "Sir Fluffenstuffs!" she shouted before leaning down and stretching out her hands.

  A fat, white rabbit hopped forward, rushing into her arms. She picked him up and kissed his head, snuggling him close to her face as she closed the door. Snow came over and gave the rabbit a couple of sniffs before giving him a wet kiss on his soft cheek.

  Though Arryn could sense the tiny amount of fear that the rabbit still held for Snow, she could feel his happiness about seeing them, as well.

  Roger laughed. "I see you found Rodney," he said.

  Arryn scrunched up her face, looking from him down to the rabbit. "Your name is Rodney?" Looking back up to Roger, she asked, "What kind of name is Rodney for a rabbit?"

  He quirked an eyebrow at her. "What kind of animal master leaves her rabbit behind?"

  She pointed a finger at him. "Hey! I'm not a master of all animals. We only bond to one… Well, I guess I bonded to two, but still. That's not the point. He was just my best friend up there; I didn't want to rip him away from his home and put him in the forest where he didn't belong. I did it for his own good."

  "Yeah, well, that rabbit has been here since you left. He wanders back up north sometimes, but for the most part he's here in the village. That's why he's so chubby. Everyone loves him, so they feed him constantly."

  She looked down and smiled, rolling him over on his back in her arms against his will so she could scratch his belly. Though he didn't like it, he let her do it anyway. "You came down here and stayed? You poor thing. And on top of that, you were given a name like Rodney. That man clearly has no talent for names."

  "What would you have named him?" Roger asked.

  Shrugging, Arryn said, "Fluffbutt. Sir Fluffenstuffs, which I lovingly used upon seeing him. Twinklenose. Monsieur Hopsalot Von Fuzzypants. There are just so many, and you chose fucking Rodney." She shook her head and tsked at him.