Return of the Darkness

by Andrew G. Wood

  Although not yet fully refreshed, Galdrac gave the order for his team to move out. He had made a decision, and although dangerous to do so, he had decided to split his group up. Each group, consisting of two or three riders, would carry any supplies they needed, the waggons they had brought with them would have to remain with their hosts, along with any additional supplies. He needed to notify as many of the western towns as possible, and he thought the best way of doing just that was to divide his soldiers up. The druid would ride with him, and when closer to the elven lands, would use the animal and birds he was linked with to get messages to the more remote places. He would head for the outpost of Barilyn, as much to gain access to someone who might be able to read troll script, as much as to give them a warning.

  Before leaving, he thanked Gaolin for his hospitality, promising he would return when able to do so. The elf waved a nonchalant arm as if to say they would be okay, as the goddess Heralin would oversee their protection from the darkness. Under normal circumstances, Galdrac would have thought him deluded, but having seen for himself how the beasts had reacted when near the church, he did not doubt it to be true.

  The hour was late, and although not yet dark, the light of day was fading fast. With the knowledge that there could well be dozens of beasts running amok around him, Galdrac led his group out of the ruins and eastwards back towards the elven lands. He was aware that should they encounter any of the creatures he had seen at Beseklin, their only option would be to run. Even his magical skills, although considered quite prolific by others, would be hard pushed to counter any more than a few of these new smarter, tougher beasts of the darkness.

  As the group split up, he looked over to the druid and asked how much further they would need to go before contact with the elf’s linked animals. The answer he got was not one he wanted, and although annoyed, he kept his opinions to himself. Druids had always been overrated a far as he was concerned, even the one thing they were supposedly good at apparently had its limitations. Their use of solar and lunar power was somewhat hit-and-miss, and while it was powerful when done properly, he had found few druids during his travels capable of doing so.

  Knowing time was of the utmost urgency, he was forced to push the horses far harder than was probably fair. At least having a druid with him, would allow him the knowledge of how the horses were feeling, and when they needed to rest. Danger was coming, and it was only a matter of when it appeared, not if. Whether those in command would believe him or even wish to acknowledge it was true, it did not know. All he could do was warn them, and try to prepare the best he could for what was coming.

  Chapter 22.

  Leyna had overseen the autopsy on the dead balgraf they had slain just a few days earlier. The findings were not what she had expected, and the idea that these creatures were evolutionarily superior to any she had seen before was not a comforting one. Not only were these beasts harder to kill, but they had also shown a level of intelligence, not thought possible.

  The skin and fur were now much thicker than the creatures she was more used to seeing. Arrows, although breaking the skin, seemed not to penetrate deep enough to cause the beasts any serious injury. However, it was clear they did have a few weak spots where the fur and skin were thinner. However, it would take a very skilled archer to pinpoint the area around the neck, and if the beast were running and moving it would probably be almost impossible to hit.

  On cutting open, the skull of the dead creature, Leyna, and those she worked with were surprised to see a brain much larger than previous specimens. This would account for the increase in intelligence, but as to the reasons how and why Abalyon could now create these new breeds, nobody was sure. The beasts of the darkness were typically considered wild animals, and although very dangerous and powerful, could be easily killed by skilled soldiers and archers.

  While arrows were seemingly of little value against them, the cold steel of a sword blade was still as lethal. The drawback being, that if in melee range of such a beast, its reach was far greater than that of an elf, man or dwarf, and perhaps even an orc’s powerful long arms would struggle to compete. While magic was still probably the best weapon, utilising powerful spells capable of destroying these creatures took its toll on the caster. Leyna was not the only one concerned about this development, and that dealing with a large attack could and likely would, prove difficult for even the most hardened soldiers.

  Using birds to carry messages, she and the other druids had sent her findings far and wide, knowing these would get forwarded on to the capital cities, and eventually to those in power. While the elves were capable combatants, it was likely they would be the race to be hit first. Fortunately, the old alliances still existed, although just how many orcs, dwarfs and humans would come to aid them was yet to be seen. Abalyon was readying his armies for another swipe at the world, and Leyna knew they best be ready for when he did.

  Finley’s apparent use of magical abilities appeared to have everyone somewhat flummoxed. The boy was clearly capable of producing magic when he needed to, and the link with Sessi was like no other druid could manage, but yet, being able to produce certain skills when requested to do so was beyond him. Leyna had tried to delve a little deeper into why this was the case, but the only answers she came up with seem to link her son to the name Zerus Maldhor. According to the books in her possession this long-dead traitor had the skills from multiple callings, something also very rare. Finley had already shown abilities of a druid and shaman, despite never being taught or shown how to use them.

  Leyna watched from the doorway of the keep as her two sons ran about the yard being chased by the wolf pup Sessi. She smiled, yet deeper down felt a little saddened that she had missed out on Finley’s childhood. Despite fifteen years only being a small part of an elf’s life, she felt it had been much longer. Being as Finley appeared to be more like his human father than her elven self, those same years could well prove to be a significant proportion of her son’s lifetime.

  Leyna chuckled as the wolf pup could visibly outrun both Finley and Karesh, although the latter certainly gave it his best shot at avoiding being caught. Sessi clearly had a mischievous streak, probably a trait from Finley she thought, as it seemed to give the young orc a false sense of winning the race, before always beating him at the end.

  The problem of what to do with Sessi in the longer term would soon need addressing, and Leyna knew this was not going to be easy. Finley had such a strong bond with the creature, she realised forcing the wolf out of the town, could well force her son out too. The fact Sessi shared a room with the three of them was not a problem, it was the fact not everybody was comfortable with such a creature walking freely about the building. Leyna had already been forced to use her considerable influence to allow the wolf pup to stay at all, and deep down knew that the creature really needed to be out in the wilderness in its natural environment. However, that was an argument for another day, right now there were bigger problems to be sorted.

  Since the incident with the creatures of the darkness, the security of the Lochgorm had become the number one priority. These newer, more intelligent beasts, balgraf, if that name still applied to them, were a very real threat, although there were still doubters amongst the town’s older generation that the creatures could possibly be as smart as Leyna was making them out to be. Fortunately, those responsible for the security of the town had sided with her, and as a result, several plans had already been put into action.

  Aside from the obvious increase in guards at both the bridge gatehouse and the gate into the town, patrols had now been set up. These, no longer consisted of just a few scouts, but were now hopefully at least, sufficient in number and quality to defend themselves should the need arise. If any creatures were found though, they were not to engaged unless attacked; the elves were not about to underestimate the enemy again. The patrols should retreat back, reporting on numbers, location and direction.

  Finley laughed as Sessi jumped up, sending him sprawling to the
ground. Although the bump to the cobbled stones hurt a little, the enjoyment he felt far out-weighed it. The wolf pup was now quite large, and its strength evidently clear to see. Yet despite being a formidable predator in the wild, Sessi showed Finley no signs of aggression other than the playful type. After dusting himself down, he heard his mother calling, and although he felt he could run around for quite some time yet, headed towards her as she beckoned him over.

  Karesh looked a little more out of breath, hardly surprising as orcs were more renown for strength than their speed and stamina. “Come on in and have lunch,” she said giving them both a hug as they reached the step she was stood on. The young orc towered over her as she wrapped her arms around him, before looking up at his face. “I have arranged for you to have some proper lessons in using a sword,” she said.

  “Really?” the orc said excitedly still catching his breath.

  “I thought it best you should learn to use something a little more substantial than the sword Finley gave you.”

  “I like the sword he gave me,” Karesh replied defensively.

  Leyna smiled, she had not wanted to offend either of her sons, “I know dear,” she said calmly, “But perhaps learning to wield an orc sword or axe would do you no harm,” she added. Karesh nodded, as the thought of swinging such a weapon appealed to him.

  “What about me?” Finley asked, wondering what his mother had set up for him.

  “I thought we might visit an old teacher of mine,” she replied reaching over and tenderly lifting his hair from off his face.

  Lunch was the usual affair, meaning if it didn’t grow in the ground or on a tree, it was unlikely to be on the plate. However, due to there being a small community of orcs living in Lochgorm, there was the occasional exception with meat being on the menu. The strangely flavoured teas preferred by the elves, were still somewhat a no go area for Finley, as the taste was certainly not to his liking. Taking lunch in the main hall as opposed to their private quarters, was always a little uncomfortable, as he often felt that he was the subject of gossip by the other diners. As to whether that was just him being overly suspicious of the looks cast his direction, he was uncertain.

  After Karesh had waved them goodbye, Finley followed his mother up to the top floor of the keep and down to the end of the corridor. Tapping lightly on the dark timber door, and hearing a muffled call for them to enter, Finley followed his mother inside the room. After closing the door quietly behind him, he looked over to see an elderly female elf smiling back at him. “Is this your boy?” she asked, directing the question at his mother.

  “Yes Dheela, this is Finley.”

  “Ah, Fine looking boy. Come on Finley you need to plonk yourself down over here,” Dheela said patting her hand on the cushioned couch.

  Finley wasn’t sure what was going on, or why he was even there, but did as was asked nonetheless. No sooner had he sat down, when he was passed a small white porcelain pot, “Now I need you to drink this for me. It will send you to sleep, so once you’ve drunk it, lie down for me please,” she asked.

  Finley sniffed at the pot of pungent smelling liquid, looking over to his mother who gestured for him to drink. After deciding to hold his nose and drink it back quickly, Finley passed the pot back over and lay down as he had been asked to do so. Within just a few seconds he felt his eyes getting heavy, and the room becoming little more than a blur. Finley thought he heard his mother speaking, but that faded away into obscurity as sleep took hold.

  Finley found himself in his dream world, although it looked very different from the one he was used to. There were no trees or dark shapes around, just infinite nothingness, even looking down at his feet gave the impression he was somehow just hanging in the air. After checking he could move, he did so, stepping tentatively forward a few paces before stopping, turning about and walking back again.

  Just as Finley was beginning to think this was not his dream, he heard a familiar voice. “Zerus Maldhor,” it echoed all around him. He turned sharply left and right trying to judge where the voice was coming from and spotted a familiar dark shape floating right up to him. Strangely, Finley felt no fear, more a deep underlying disappointment, a deep sadness that he had been responsible for some heinous act. “Zerus Maldhor. You will be mine once more,” the figure spoke again, moving closer towards him.

  The dark shape swirled about, taking a human form, at least for the upper body and head as he was now accustomed to seeing. “Come with me Zerus Maldhor,” the dark figure said proffering out a ghostly looking hand. Finley was not sure why, but he felt he should accept the offer as if it was something he had done before and would help with the overwhelming feeling of gloom he was experiencing. “This time we shall be successful Zerus Maldhor,” the figure added waiting for Finley to make his move.

  A second voice sounded to his right, which stopped Finley from lifting his hand, as he turned sharply to see what it was. A light shape manifested just a few paces away and called his name. “Mother?” he found himself asking, thinking the voice was hers. He was certain he had seen his mother calling in a dream before, but on that occasion could not reach her. “Zerus Maldhor,” the second voice called, floating over towards him. “You do not have to take the same path as before,” it added swirling about and taking the form of an elven female. “You’re not my mother,” Finley said disappointedly.

  The ghostly looking figures floated either side of him. “Heralin!” the dark shape spoke with the sound of disdain in his voice.

  “Abalyon. Be gone from this place. Zerus Maldhor shall not be yours this time,” the female figure replied softly

  “You have no power to stop me Heralin. You nor the others. I shall rule the lands of the living, and you shall all be forced to watch me destroy everything you created and hold dear.”

  “You will not succeed Abalyon. Just as you have failed before, so shall you again. Zerus Maldhor shall not be yours again,” the figure of light replied, her voice getting louder.

  “My name is Finley!” he found himself shouting, almost as much to make the two ghostly figures be silent, as to explain they had the wrong person. The dark shape made a laughing sound as it lifted upwards before it swirled about above him for a few moments and disappeared completely. That just left Finley and the second figure, alone in the darkness of his mind. “Who are you?” he found himself asking. The figure did not answer but just smiled, tilting its head slightly as if pitying him. “The future is unclear; your path is not yet set. This is why Abalyon seeks you out, and why you must resist him Zerus Maldhor.”

  “My name is Finley,” he snapped feeling annoyed; it seemed even in his dreams people did not listen to him.

  The figure silenced again, as it swirled around him; a face in a white mist. “You have the knowledge Finley,” she said actually using his name. “Seek out the old mage, he has found something that will help you defeat the forces of the darkness,” it said before vanishing away and leaving him alone once more.

  Feeling a mixture of confusion, annoyance and the sense he was still being watched, he looked around. There appeared to be nothing else about, no more ghostly apparitions or strange creatures, yet the feeling would not pass. Once more he simply hung in empty space, and although his eyes told him he was alone, he doubted what they were telling him.

  In the room where Finley lay soundly asleep, the elderly elf known as Dheela held the palms of her hands on the sides of his head. Finley’s mother, Leyna, was also there listening, as she described the contents of her son’s dreaming mind. Dheela was a rare breed, and one of only a handful blessed with such a gift called a Seer. Although once thought to be able to predict the future, the seers of the world were, in fact, better suited to problems of the mind. While their skills in foresight were somewhat questionable at best, their ability to picture the deeper, darker corners of the mind were far more accurate.

  Mainly used to help those with troubling dreams and thoughts, seers would also often oversee disputes between citizens. Wit
h their gift of knowing the contents of a mind, they could assist the judge in any trial by pointing out who was being deceitful and who was telling the truth. However, while the skill could only be used on heavily sedated or sleeping subjects, seers were often given a wide berth by many. The misconception that they could merely read your thoughts as you passed one by in the street was a common one, resulting in the unfair way they were often treated. Even those with other magical abilities, thought to know better, were dubious and somewhat nervous when in the presence of a seer.

  Leyna however, was not such a person. Her knowledge of most magical abilities, while far from complete, was rational at least. While some saw seers as a threat, she for one could see the good work they did. Now listening to Dheela describing the contents of her son’s dreaming mind, she was glad she did. So as not to forget any of the key points, Leyna sat jotting them down, making notes where she thought necessary, so she could read them back later and give them more thought. Already she had far more than expected. Abalyon, she knew had haunted Finley’s mind before, but the appearance of the elven goddess Heralin was something new, and she was certain very significant. While Dheela’s descriptions of what had been said were vague at best, the knowledge that two gods troubled her son's mind seemed to confirm that Finley was indeed someone very special.

  Chapter 23.