Shadow Falls

by A W Tinney

  “Mighty Ancient One, protect me, your loyal servant. Grant me the power to overcome these foul Void demons. Let the light of your Vigil shine true.”

  “How poetic,” the queen mused. “Death has a way of inspiring the muse within us all.” She floated high, grasping at the very mist about her, fuelling the eel with shadow magic. “Send this Balar born to the Void,” she commanded.

  Something splashed at Octavia’s side. It shimmered and hummed, a celestial tune all too familiar. Instinctively her hand shot out, fingers closing around a hilt.

  “By all the gods use the damn thing,” the gnome howled.

  Octavia released her hold on the eel and brought her Sceptre to bear. Holy light pierced the cursed thing, reducing its Void spawned life to dust. The eel vaporised into an ashen mist, floating almost serenely away.

  Gripping the Sceptre with both hands, Octavia brought it to bear on the queen.

  “No,” the floating sorceress shrieked as the might of Balar overwhelmed her. “No, you cannot. This is not the way. This is not the way. The Staff…it is mine…”

  “Mummy?” the boy bawled, fighting back tears.

  The queen looked back at her son, a look of anguish filling her demonic face. Then she turned back to Octavia and sounded a cacophonous roar.

  “To the Void with you,” Octavia commanded, and let the power of Balar consume the witch.

  11

  The boy was crying, his plump form cradled by the snivelling steward. They cowered close to the smouldering body of their queen, who had come crashing down from the sky as the light of the Vigilant overcame her. They both gulped back horrified tears. The steward hissed a curse.

  “Get away from us, gnome.”

  Eresor said nothing. Instead, he watched as the smouldering ruin of the queen mutated, twisting into the form of a shrivelled woman as slates of shadow sloughed from her painted skin.

  “It was an illusion,” the sky-captain said.

  “Get away,” the steward cried.

  The boy stopped his wailing and simply gawped. “Mummy?”

  The hag coughed and groaned. Still alive. Barely.

  “Stay back, gnome.” Octavia had hauled herself from the pit, armour still smoking. The light of the Sceptre ebbed, fading to a dull glow. “She is tainted by Shadow.”

  “She is our queen,” the steward howled and reared up. “Her majesty is not to be sullied by your lies.”

  “Not lies,” the Vigilant stated. “Look upon her.”

  The shadow wreathing the queen finally dissipated, revealing an ancient grey-scaled marshland female who curled feebly into a ball.

  Grey-scaled… “The crone,” Eresor breathed. “It can’t be…”

  “Mummy? What’s wrong mummy? Why are you so old? Why aren’t they dead, mummy?”

  “Stop his whinging, or I will,” Eresor warned the steward, who promptly dashed to the boy’s side and covered his mouth. The steward offered soothing words as Eresor loomed over the shivering crone. “The bard was right about one thing; you were certainly no beauty.”

  “I have told you to step back, gnome,” the Vigilant warned. “I would have words with this witch.”

  “As would I. But, by all means god-warrior, have at her first.”

  The Vigilant took a step forward, Sceptre glowing brighter. She halted, as a low gurgling cackle came from the wretched creature before them.

  “Fools,” she hissed.

  “You have failed,” Octavia said. “The Staff will never be yours, now that I know of its power.”

  “The Staff…” she let out a deep guttural retch, vile blood pooling on her chin. “The Staff is but one piece of an endless puzzle.”

  “Speak, witch. Before I send you back to the Void.”

  “You are all fools.” She raised her head, gaping, drooling mouth twisted into a wrinkled sneer. “The Shadow Witch has played you all. You have all stumbled through the Thousand Paths. You have all blindly followed her will.”

  “I follow Balar, and the light of reason.”

  “You may believe that, god-warrior. But where is your master? Did he answer when called? Did he send bursts of lightning from the sky to smite me? He has abandoned you, just as he has abandoned this entire realm.”

  “And yet here you lay, bested by his power. I will have no more of your blasphemy.”

  “I lay here only because it is Morigana’s will. Just as she drew you from the city.”

  “City…?”

  The witch cackled. “It falls, Vigilant. Even now the waters of Calefort run red with blood and ring with the cries of Void beasts. You have failed in your duty, and Morigana has claimed what is rightfully hers.”

  “The city,” she said with sudden harrowing realisation.

  “What does the witch say?” Eresor piped. “The city is under attack?”

  “No,” croaked the witch. “The attack is long since finished. The waters have rose and claimed many. The mists and shadows have fallen, and never again shall any mortal left living in those streets behold the light of day. It is a city of the Void now. It has become one with the abyss.”

  “You lie,” Octavia said. “You demon witch; you lie.”

  “I speak truth; a truth you know to be true. You have been betrayed, Vigilant. Your wisdom proved too little. This realm is Morigana’s and it is only a matter of time before she…”

  He last words were interrupted by the insertion of Octavia’s sword into her throat.

  “By all the gods, what in hell?”

  The Vigilant turned to the protesting gnome. “She was a being of the Void. That, I could not abide her incessant rambling any longer.”

  “We needed her alive. She was the only one that knew of the Staff.”

  “Not anymore.” She patted the Staff on across he back. “I have read of such artefacts before. It has always been an…interest of mine.”

  “Then you know how to destroy it?”

  “Not entirely.

  “I know all, gnome.” She indicated to the Staff. “I see only that Balar which wishes me to see. If there is a way to destroy this thing, he has not revealed it to me. Yet. But there are means and ways to discovering these things. It seems also he has deemed it worthy for our paths to cross.”

  “We had a way and means to destroy this thing, and you have just killed her.”

  Octavia looked at the dead witch. “This one would not have given you what you seek. You have been played gnome and played well.”

  The gnome clenched his fists. “By hell…you and your god can go to the Void. We wanted no part in this. I have lost too much. We have all…” he stammered.

  “Fear no more, for I have come to your aid. Together, we shall find an end to the Staff and perhaps the sinister forces that seek it also. Balar wills it.”

  “And what of the people of Calefort? Did Balar will their deaths? That destruction? Just like Faris Manzil. How many other cities must fall under the protection of a god-warrior?” He added venom to his next words. “It seems I was not the only one to have been played.”

  “I will have my time under Balar’s eye. As we all will.”

  “A time that may be coming all too soon.” To his side, the shimmering Knight spluttered, and deep obsidian bile retched from her maw. The gnome knelt beside her, his arms hovering, unsure of what to do.

  Octavia nodded, turned on her heel and marched away.

  “Where in the Void are you going?” the gnome called after her.

  “To fetch the elf,” she replied. “I did say I had come to help you.”

  12

  Nymida did all she could for Kasela. The Knight shuddered and sweated with fever. No amount of bleeding drew enough of the poison from her system. She was infected, and the toxin was claiming her life. Rapidly.

  “She needs a healer,” the elf told Eresor.

  “Where? We are stranded in the middle of nowhere.”

  “My people have a stronghold not far from the marshlands. Once the mist rises, I will take her
there.”

  “If she survives that long.”

  Nymida’s face turned solemn. She nodded grimly. “With Selvar, we may have a chance at speed.”

  The panthra had recovered from his poison frenzy, and now lethargically lay next to his master, nuzzling her body every so often and moaning softly. Kasela spasmed and jolted in fever dreams, her shimmering skin turning from hot to cold, and back again in a matter of seconds.

  Calefort had indeed fallen. Stragglers from the city flooded the southern marshes and many found their way to the now abandoned crannog. They spoke of the thickening fog, and the demons that hunted within. The entire city was lost, as was Eresor’s craft and remaining crew no doubt. The shame of losing a ship was one a gnome would not bear well.

  The steward and the prince of the crannog left, hauled off by Beivor who had managed to smuggle a raft out of the settlement. It was discovered that the boy was the steward’s nephew, and the queen had adopted him upon her arrival to the crannog three years ago, when the last king had mysteriously disappeared in the night. Eresor had no doubt the aging marshlander and the plump youth would be sold into slavery at the first opportunity. He was not guilty at his lack of remorse regarding their fate.

  “Where do you go now?” Nymida asked.

  “I must go north. The loss of my crew…the Sky Queen will need to know. The death of a ship does not rest easy with the code.”

  “You should come south with us,” the elf offered, but to her expectation, the gnome shook his head.

  “I will come with you.” Octavia had been hovering nearby, the towering Vigilant a constant presence in the past two days. “You have taken a quest to destroy this thing,” she indicated to the staff, strapped and hanging from her back. “It is my duty to see you complete it. Perhaps your people, gifted craftsmen that they are, may know how to unmake this. I hear there is a library in the sky city also.”

  “You ever think that I had considered bringing it to my own people before now?”

  `Octavia shrugged. “The minds of mortals confuse me at the best of times.”

  Eresor grumbled. “Suppose I’ll have no means of convincing you otherwise. If nothing else, you’ll be a damned good bodyguard on the journey north.” He let out a short laugh. “Gods know I’m not used to walking long distances.”

  Nymida smiled. “Nor made for it, with those legs of yours.” They regarded each other for a moment. “I will miss you, Eresor.”

  “You make it sound like I’m going off to die.”

  “All the same, this may be the last we see of each other.”

  “You get that Knight to your people first. Think on those thoughts then, not before. Whatever game we have found ourselves caught up in, I doubt it ends here.”

  “I believe that to be the truest thing you have ever said, gnome,” the Vigilant rumbled.

  “Trust my luck to get rid of one armoured fool only to fall into the company of another.”

  The Vigilant rose and stomped out of the hut. “Well this armoured fool is leaving. You may follow when ready.” She departed.

  “Well, elf,” Eresor said, extending a hand. “Looks like we found ourselves in a right sorry old mess. Take care of yourself. Keep the Knight alive, won’t you? She a stubborn one, but I did like her well enough. Never tell her that though.”

  Nymida gripped his arm. “I won’t. Safe travels, my friend.”

  “And you.”

  And with that Eresor left both his companions behind, following a Vigilant into the shadows of the future.