A Very Dystopian Holiday Reader

by Dan O'Brien

  It was something large.

  “We have to move,” spoke Maian.

  Panic filled her voice.

  “No. If we go out right now, it will most assuredly be upon us in moments.”

  “Then what are we supposed to do?” queried Uthen, his eyes still fixated on the labored movements above them. Xeno looked down for a moment and then reached back to the sheath upon his back. He drew his blade, the edge cold and frozen.

  “I go out and draw its attention by running back the way we came. You two make your way to the gates of the Tower. I will meet the two of you there,” replied Xeno with confidence as he moved to step out into the wintry pass once again.

  Uthen laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping him for a moment. “This is suicide, Xeno.”

  “I agree, I don’t like this plan,” spoke Maian.

  Her thin body shivered.

  Xeno looked at both of them, and then brushed Uthen’s hand away. “It is the only way. I will meet you there. Do not attempt the halls of the Tower without me. Without a guide, you will labor for all of eternity.”

  He moved out into the snow drifts once again. Waving his sword wildly, he ran back the way they had just come. The howl that accompanied the thunderous pursuit made both Uthen and Maian shudder. As they crept away toward the Tower, they contemplated the terror that awaited them there.

  *

  The pillar of flame erupted within the Widow’s chamber, her pale features brought to life at the sudden spark of passionate light. Upon seeing it, she ran from it like a child fleeing from monsters in the night. The flame remained, and she peered at it from around her arm.

  Her eyes were wide and innocent for a moment despite the horror she had caused for pleasure. She became fascinated with it and stood, her pets peering at her. Their interest was lost as she neared the flame and reached a hand out to touch it, to feel its warmth. She drew her hand back quickly as the flame reverberated and jumped, sending tendrils out from its center.

  “Karian, what has become of the providence of Me’lein?” boomed a voice within.

  “I did not know you were watching over Me’lein.” Her confused and fear-ridden response belied her power. The flame took on form for a moment, the face contorted into a grimace. A wide brow emerged into smooth, flame horns that crested the fiery skull.

  “I watch everything, my child, especially my most prized jewel. I gave you Me’lein because I wished to see such pain inflicted upon it that I knew only you could deliver,” replied the voice.

  “He comes for my crest. He wishes to finish what was started some years ago.”

  “Xeno, he wishes to end what I have created,” spoke the voice flatly.

  “He comes here as we speak. He brought others.”

  “Then kill him for me, in my name. He must be dealt with, and how fitting that it would be by your hand.”

  Karian hesitated for a moment, staring back upon her slumbering were-beast––the sleeping whelp perched upon the top of her shadow throne. “As you wish.”

  The flame vibrated and then disappeared.

  Karian was left in the darkness once again. The turmoil that gripped her soul, and the images and feelings of ages past, swept across her being. She fell upon her knees in the darkness, letting the shadow embrace her and nurture the confusion that lingered.

  *

  Xeno ran hard against the snow.

  The force of the gales doubled as he ran into the assault of the cold winds, which felt like being slapped in the face by an ice giant. He could hear the even breathing of his pursuer. The deafening roar of the mountain winds shrouded the true size of his opponent.

  Xeno planted his feet and pivoted, his blade brandished in front of him. His eyes squinted into the assaulting gales as he searched for whatever tracked him. The wall of white clouded the progression of the creature.

  He felt the wind of the strike only moments before it came, the blow knocking him from his feet and sending him sprawling into the drifts of snow at the edge of the path. He spun in the snow. Leaping back to his feet, he felt only the oppressive force of another blow, lifting him off his feet this time.

  He slammed into the rocky face of the mountain. The force held him there for a moment before letting him fall to the ground. The hazy drifts of snow assaulted his vision, blurring the image of his attacker.

  “Xeno Lobo,” spoke the low, guttural voice.

  It did not lack intelligence.

  Xeno lifted his bruised face and tried to focus on the voice. “What…”

  The fist came again. This time Xeno could make out the tan human hands as they assaulted his face. Each blow dulled the edges of his vision. “The Widow does not like uninvited visitors, turn back now.”

  “Then perhaps…”

  The fist came again.

  Xeno moved away from the blow, rolling into the snow. Getting to his feet amidst the torrents of frigid air, he drew his blade. The dark shadow that assaulted him came into focus. It was at least a foot taller than Xeno, its body shrouded in a cloak of white.

  Yet only darkness radiated from it. “Karian, mistress of the Tower of Darkness, bids you farewell. I am here to send you to the next plane.”

  “That might be premature at this point,” quipped Xeno as he rooted himself in the frozen earth and brandished his sword as the figure approached.

  The features of the creature were hidden from view, buried deep within the cloak that protected it. It flashed forward, teleporting from its position to another just behind Xeno. Its strike came moments before Xeno could bring his blade up to parry.

  The fist was consumed by darkness.

  The blow lifted Xeno from his feet again and carved a canyon through the snow, the wall halting his slide. The denizen stood apart from Xeno, hands held at its sides and hood tilted slightly. The movement was eerie in the wall of snow that distorted the battlefield. The figure shimmered for a moment and Xeno leapt up, swinging his blade thrice. The third blow caught the teleporting visage and tore the cloak down its center, revealing more shadow beneath the robes.

  The creature looked at Xeno, pretense abandoned. Swirling masses of shattered shadow swayed in the wintry gales. Its eyes could be seen for the first time, flames billowing back away from its shape. They were trails that seemed to disappear into the distance. Its body was no longer form––the cloak had held it together. A black cowl floated down the cliff face.

  Xeno moved forward, his sword tainted with a vile streak of shadow. The squirming, crawling darkness slithered like a serpent. Flicking his blade toward the snow, the slithering shadow leapt from his steel and scurried across the ice-packed ground, rejoining the disjointed mass of darkness that stood before the warrior.

  “You cannot fight the inevitable,” spoke the transient being, its form controlled and mastered by the frigid gales.

  Uthen and Maian seemed so far from Xeno now. The tumble back down the slopes of the mountain had taken a toll on him. He could feel the breath being taken from him.

  “This ends now.”

  Xeno dove forward.

  His hands began to feel the effects of the cold. Mustering the remaining energy his body could summon, he charged the creature. His body was a flurry of strikes. Screams echoed in the cold canyons.

  *

  Maian walked out ahead of Uthen.

  Her lithe body could almost hide within the white wall of the mountain storm. As she approached the gates, Uthen could feel the weight of their endeavor on his shoulders. With each passing moment without Xeno the possibility of his death grew.

  Maian moved toward the gate.

  Stopping, she craned her neck skyward. The levels and rooms of the Tower of Darkness extended far above the wintry peaks and into the pillows of clouds above them. The gray-white matter hid its true height.

  “Do we wait for Xeno?’ asked Maian.

  As Uthen came up beside her, he rested his hands on the hilt of his sword. Closing his eyes, the flurries of the snowstorm brushed over his tan
face.

  “He told us not to enter without him. But the longer we wait here, the greater the risk of dying in this cold mess. The possibility and reality of his death becomes more apparent to me as we stand here,” reasoned Uthen.

  “The Tower seems so daunting. Can we truly navigate it without Xeno?”

  “He says we cannot, but what insight he has I do not know. There is far too much about him that we are not aware of, too many questions unanswered.”

  Maian looked away from the soldier and back into the white through which they had just journeyed. She closed her eyes against the blowing gales. “His story of Devonshire was so sad.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “He seemed sad himself when he told it.”

  “It did seem rather personal.”

  The gates before them were obsidian, and wide open. The path that led deeper was shrouded in darkness despite the bright reflection of the snow-covered mountain. The points of the gate were like pikes: polished points of death. The veneer was strange, as if someone tended their reflection.

  Maian notched an arrow as they both looked at the tower. Letting it loose before Uthen could tell her better, it sailed wobbly in the wind and struck the side of the structure, its metallic point buried in a stone crevice.

  They both turned when they heard the screaming echo down the mountain. Their faces dropped when they recognized the unnatural howl, and a human scream that had to be Xeno.

  The mountain rumbled.

  Thunder echoed.

  The footfalls of the something approached them. They were hurried, almost panicked, impressions on the earth. Maian notched an arrow. She was still trapped in the irrational fear of the silence.

  Uthen drew his sword.

  A shadow emerged.

  The fumbling steps grew thunderous now.

  Xeno rounded the pass and ran toward the two of them. The fear on their faces melted into relief. Xeno ran at full speed, his arms waving wildly and his lips moving.

  The thunderous cliffs stole his words.

  “Run,” he screamed.

  Neither Uthen nor Maian could hear them.

  Their fear returned to them.

  The shadow creature crested the corner of the trail. It pursued Xeno like a formless apparition, floating across the earth, driving the warrior forward.

  Uthen backpedaled and fell, bringing Maian to the ground with him. Watching as the tattered pants of Xeno approached them, he stared fearfully at the ghastly image of the creature chasing their traveling companion.

  A piercing howl filled the air as it neared.

  Uthen kicked his feet in the snow. His hands scraped the ground, drawing brown earth from the frozen land. He was on his feet again, pulling Maian with him. As he pushed her ahead, the howling at their backs drove them forward.

  Xeno came up alongside them, his face covered with ice and blood. His eye was nearly swollen shut from the attack. They stumbled through the gate and entered the shadow, pushing desperately on the monstrous door there. As they pried it open, they navigated the narrow gap and started to close the door behind them.

  The sliver of opening showed the apparition as they slammed it closed. Xeno paced the narrow corridor they had placed themselves in. He slammed his clenched fist against the wall, repeatedly. Bending at the waist, his chest heaved and his words were mumbled.

  “What was that?” queried Maian exasperatedly.

  She was visibly shaken.

  “One of Karian’s creations,” replied Xeno as he slammed his fists against the walls once again. The room they stood in was a waiting room, which led farther out into a colossal, open chamber that narrowed back into a dank stairwell.

  The open chamber was empty with the exception of a pedestal in each corner with seamless orbs of various shades placed upon them. They walked forward into the center chamber and looked toward the ceiling. The seemingly endless darkness added depth to the grandiose room.

  “What are these orbs?” asked Uthen.

  “The eyes of Karian.”

  “She watches us through them––clever,” replied Uthen as he walked forward. The stairwell on the opposite side was their only path. “Up then?”

  Xeno nodded and moved forward, followed by Maian. Uthen was close behind. Casting glances about the darkness, he lowered his head as they prepared to ascend the Tower of Darkness.

  9

  K

  arian sat upon her throne, eyes closed. Her hands gripped the rests. The room was silent except for the low, throaty mutterings of her were-beast. The far corner of the room shimmered for a moment and then materialized, the space there flexing like it had been stretched thin. The nether creature that had battled Xeno upon the mountain moved out of the darkness. Its robes had returned, arms crossed like a monk.

  “Yreth, I see you have returned,” spoke Karian as her eyes snapped open. She pushed herself from the throne, turning her hateful stare upon the shadow.

  “Yes, my mistress.”

  “And the warrior Xeno?”

  “He and his companions have entered your Tower. They navigate the maze as we speak,” the shadow replied, features hidden as they once were.

  “You could not kill him?”

  “He was more resilient than most mortals. He fought with strength unbecoming of a human,” returned the shadow.

  Karian paced.

  Her arms were behind her back, hands clasped. “There are three,” whispered Karian as she searched with her eyes closed––her arms extended, feeling the air about her.

  “Yes, a child and a soldier accompany him. I sense only sadness in the other warrior.”

  “He means to kill me this time,” replied Karian as she opened her eyes. She looked out the stone window at the wintry caps of the mountains.

  “Shall I release the trials?”

  “No, I will play no games this time. I must confront him for my master, and for myself. There will be no illusions as to who is the victor this time.”

  “As you wish, my mistress.”

  “Leave the Tower. Join our master to the east. He has plans for you.”

  “Understood. Farewell, Mistress Karian.” And with that the apparition disappeared once again, leaving Karian to her thoughts and the solitary confinement of her cage.

  *

  The stairwell spiraled far above them.

  The depth of the darkness seemed to redouble with each step. And when they thought they had climbed as far as was possible, there were more stairs and stone before them. Xeno seemed sadder the closer they came to the distant light at the top of the stairwell. Needless to say, Uthen and Maian worried about their traveling companion.

  “Master Xeno?” queried Maian with a weak voice.

  “What is it, Maian?”

  “Why does the story of Devonshire sadden you so?”

  “Why do you think it saddens me, child?”

  “When you told us of the Song Maiden and the king, you spoke of them with remorse and regret. It was as if they had affected your life in some way.”

  Uthen looked on, recognizing that Xeno had a way of avoiding such questions––the things that haunted his past. “Is it not a sad story?”

  “It is.”

  “Then that is why it saddens me. Is that what you wished to know?”

  “No, it was as if you had a connection to them.”

  “What you suspect is true. I was born in Devonshire––their history is my history. My people were templates of what could become of man, and it was all torn down by the darkness. It saddens me greatly.”

  Maian nodded.

  They continued up the stairs in silence, until Xeno stopped them with a wave of his hand. Moving ahead of them, he disappeared around a corner. He reappeared again, his finger on his lips as he motioned them closer.

  “We are here,” he whispered.

  They crept through the darkened hallway.

  Emerging into the half light of the room, they viewed the solitary throne and the slumbering beast at its
side. The were-beast turned its head and growled deeply, rising on its haunches for a moment. It laid back down as Karian emerged from the darkness and waved her hand for him to sit.

  “Xeno Lobo,” she called.

  “Karian. Widow,” he replied. The moment between them was far stranger then either Uthen or Maian had imagined.

  “Father would be displeased with you, coming here to kill your own sister,” replied Karian, drawing her blade from the darkness and tracing circles in the air with it like a child. The shadow fire danced lazily at her command.

  “Sister?” replied Uthen incredulously.

  “Oh, he didn’t tell you of our checkered past together, of the kingdom of Devonshire and the fall of its people. And don’t forget the son of the king, Xeno Lobo.”

  Maian’s face twisted into anger, the Widow’s words creating a spark in her eyes. She stepped forward, her arms straight at her sides. “Then you are the beautiful Song Maiden Ariana, corrupted by the forces of darkness.”

  Karian turned at the child’s words and her hands erupted in darkness, a beam of convoluted shadow leaping toward her frail frame. Uthen leapt in front of the girl, taking the force of the blow. It sent him crashing against the cruel stone of the walls.

  Maian notched an arrow and let it loose.

  Notching another as the first sang through the air, she let it go in succession. Karian turned her blade and deflected each, sending the splintered shafts into the darkness. Picking up the child from across the room, her outstretched arm shook with power.

  “Let her go, Ariana,” spoke Xeno, his blade still not drawn.

  Karian flung the child atop Uthen, and then turned back to Xeno. “You use my former name, brother. There is no need for such formalities among bitter enemies.”

  “The only enemy I have is the darkness and the hold it has over you. You are my sister and I will not allow the darkness to have claim over you any longer. By your death, or by your redemption, I will see my sister freed.”

  A thin, childlike laugh erupted from Karian. She pointed a mocking finger at Xeno. “Wonderful speech, brother, but it means nothing. The darkness has given me so much. What can you possibly show me that would make me turn my back on such a giving benefactor?”