Shadow of the Arisen: An Epic Dark Fantasy Novel (Lands of Wanderlust Book 1)

by Paul Yoder

  “Hmm,” Bede hummed. “The scratch isn’t serious.”

  Opening a pouch to her side, she took out a clean, white fabric and a bottle of a clear liquid, dabbing the cloth with the liquid, then touched it to the wound.

  Nomad knew it was alcohol that she had placed on his open sore upon contact, and though his face didn’t show his discomfort, his muscles tightening did.

  Bede was quick, albeit gentle, about her work, wiping the blood from the skin and picking out fabric from his open wound.

  After the wound was clean, Bede started to lightly press on the areas around the open wound, feeling, at first, the muscle and tissue. Once Nomad made no protest to that, she dug deeper to the bone, finding the ribs. This did cause Nomad to hold his breath. An action that Bede took note of.

  Bede let up and cleaned her hands of blood and got another white fabric out along with a close-lidded saucer. She opened it and scooped out a bit of white, silky cream and gently applied it to Nomad’s side. She then placed the cool, fine fabric over it, wrapping a few bandage rolls around his torso to keep the cloth in place over the wound.

  “Medical cashmere that is. Laced with healing properties that’ll mend that wound and even ease the soreness of the muscles beneath in no time,” Bede said, cleaning up the used fabric and her supplies she had gotten out of her pouch, adding, “No broken ribs, thankfully. You should be all mended in a day or two.”

  Sitting up, tenderly trying to avoid using his bruised side muscles, Nomad kindly replied, “I appreciate your aid. You did not have to mend me. It is a great kindness I will not forget.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Bede said, hand raised. “It’s I that owe you for being there for Reza when she needed help. Now come, let’s go join the group before your talkative friend Jadu yaks Finian’s ears off.”

  9

  The Soul in the Ring

  The twin moons of the night sky bathed the desert dunes in a pale-blue shimmer. Reza, groggily coming to, lifted herself up on her elbows, looking out past the low burning campfire and sleeping bodies to the silhouettes of the ruined buildings of the town.

  Her mind slowly sorted through how she had gotten there, remembering the wicked bite of the small skeleton and her having to use her ancestral powers. Nomad had seen her use those powers she worked so hard to conceal. Having her heritage as public knowledge had never done her any favors in the past, and she began to think fixedly on how she was going to explain the occurrence off to him.

  Lost in thought, laying back down, still feeling quite drained from the use of her power earlier, she became aware of a trinket she was fingering. She had completely forgotten about the ghostly little girl that they had seen before leaving the tomb and the ring that the girl had dropped before her. She had picked it up, not considering if that was a good or bad move at the time.

  She held it up in the moon light, appreciating the brilliant shimmer the cut diamond emitted as it refracted the moon and starlight in all directions.

  Inspecting the delicate bluish-grey hoop of metal carefully, she thought she caught the hint of an engraving on the inside of the ring. Sitting up, she turned the ring’s back end to the fire and clearly saw that there was writing on the ring’s underside.

  The symbols were written in the same ancient Tarigonniean runic dialects that her and Nomad had come across at the entrance of the tombs. Whispering, she began to read aloud, sounding out syllables as she went along.

  “Sa-ahlorn tulleip—decant ethül-long,” She let the cryptic words hang in the air for a moment, piecing the ancient language back together in her tongue. “Our love shall bind us—in this life, and the next.”

  A glow, at first only degrees lighter than what normally glimmered from the diamond on top, started to emit from the masterfully crafted clear stone. Glowing with unnatural brilliance now, Reza looked around at her sleeping comrades, to see if anyone else had noticed her little growing light source, surprised and concerned with the magic she had unwittingly activated.

  After the glow leveled out, no longer increasing in brightness, Reza turned the ring over in her fingers, staring deeply into the source of the light, the diamond. Almost mindlessly, she slipped the ring onto her right ring finger. It was a perfect fit.

  Within a blink, Reza could tell something was different. Her vision seemed to have incorporated a new spectrum of sight. The ring’s glow was now twice as bright. Looking out into the relative dimness of the night, the light from the diamond seeped out through the ruins, lighting the derelict town with a spectral teal-white glow.

  As Reza’s gaze rose, she jumped when she noticed a translucent woman standing in the midst of their camp, staring fixedly at Reza.

  Reza looked around the camp to find no one, even Fin who was the lightest sleeper she knew, stirred from their slumber due to the incredible illumination that now filled the camp.

  Reza stared wide-eyed at the ghostly figure dressed in a tight gown—sheer, flowing robes, with metal cuffs adorning revealing areas of her body. The ghostly figure started walking towards her, smiling, speaking a sentence in ancient Tarigonniean, which Reza translated instantly with unusual ease.

  “I thank you for freeing my family from the curse placed upon us.”

  The figure knelt down and embraced a still frozen Reza, not yet sure if she should attack the specter, call out to her comrades, or hear her out before making a judgment.

  The touch of the spectral figure came first as a chill, her skin rippling in waves of goosebumps. It wasn’t a physical touch, but was more like a light pressure of an unseen force which penetrated through the skin, making contact with something deeper. Though the feeling was very strange, it wasn’t exactly unpleasant. She felt surprisingly calm—more curious now as to the figure’s purpose and motives than threatened by them.

  The figure sat back and looked warmly at Reza, the two studying the features of the other. Reza now noticed hues of colors through the vibrant phosphorescent glow that surrounded her.

  Her gown seemed white, and the jewelry and metal adorning bands clasped around her arms, wrists, and legs were engraved gold. Her hair was dark and finely braided with bangs cut in straight, perfect lines. She had an elegantly long face and nose, and her complexion was flawless, with heavy eyeliner along the slits of the eyes. Her skin tone seemed not light, but not overly dark either. Her lips were full and her eyebrows were well outlined. Taking in her presence, Reza thought that perhaps she was the most exotically beautiful woman she had ever seen.

  Reza looked over to her sleeping comrades once more and then whispered to the specter two feet before her, speaking in unusually fluent ancient Tarigonniean, the ring somehow enhancing her understanding of the dead language. “You—are you a spirit?”

  The spirit nodded and replied also in tongue, “Yes. One that you recently partially set free, along with my children—my two sons and my precious daughter.”

  Wondering if the spirit spoke of the skeletons her and Nomad had fought and destroyed in the tombs, Reza asked, “Was that apparition that gave me this ring, your daughter, or was that small skeleton I—” Reza hesitated, looking for a way to respectfully ask the difficult question. “I defended myself against, your daughter?”

  Thankfully for Reza, the spirit didn’t seem offended by the question in the least, and the spirit’s answer was in the same, appreciative voice.

  “They were both my little one. My family’s remains, save for my husband, were recently hexed by a powerful and dark cleric, giving a remanence of life back to those bones we once inhabited. He used us as his playthings while he stayed here performing duties that we didn’t have the mind to decipher. His hex gave us just enough life to follow commands, but not enough to function of our own free will. You saw my daughter’s animated remains, but you also saw her spirit manifest one last time before the hex was broken, departing her spirit from this realm for good.

  “I remain not due to the hex, but due to this ring which my husba
nd had imbued with a portion of my soul upon my sacrificial death. Unlike my children, hex or no hex, a part of me will remain upon this earth, awaiting my husband’s return, as long as the enchantment on this ring holds and this ring exists.”

  Reza, almost hypnotized by the woman’s ice-blue irises, gazed into her eyes without looking away, reflecting over the spirit’s story.

  “So, when my comrade and I destroyed your family’s remains, that broke the hex for your family, but what this contains—” Reza said, holding up the hand the ring was on, “is a different kind of magic. A magic that chained part of your soul to this ring long ago. Do I understand all of this correctly?”

  The woman again nodded her head and responded, “Yes. Many of the pharaohs employed the skills of death priests to ensnare their wife’s soul in their prime to anchor their most choice wife to this realm so that upon their return, after our God, Dannon, restores them to this realm, they would have their choice wife there with him to begin ruling over his domain again.”

  Breaking away from the woman’s entrancing, unblinking gaze, Reza looked back into the ring’s light and asked, “So, this dark cleric. How recent did he visit your family’s tomb, and what other things did he do while here besides hex your family? Do you know anything of his motives?”

  For the first time, the spirit’s countenance seemed to turn slightly sorrowful, and the woman answered in a somewhat reduced tone.

  “Our weak spirit link to this realm was tentative and easily dominated by his twisted will during the hex, and looking back through those fragmented memories is like looking through a mist. Of what little I remember—and even then it feels like memories of another—but what I remember is a great army of the dead. There were many foul and mutated constructs. Creatures either altered so horribly that they did not resemble any living thing, or creatures, like my family, that had been brought out of a sleep that was meant to be permanent.

  “He did horrible things to the living he brought into our tomb, and even the dead—” the woman paused, reflecting on the horrible acts of the one she spoke of, or composing herself, Reza didn’t know which, but she continued to finish her story.

  “I resisted his perverse ways once when he attacked me and my daughter. Perhaps the proximity to the ring you now wear aided to bolster my spirit to unexpected levels of sentience, but that scared him enough to leave our resting place. He has not returned for some time now. How long, I cannot be sure.”

  Reza could see in the woman’s eyes a suppressed pain and hopelessness. She wanted to help her in some way, but didn’t see how she could currently.

  “Do you know anything else about this cleric? Where he came from or his name?” Reza whispered as gently as she could.

  The specter for the first time looked away, visibly thinking hard on Reza’s question.

  “I recall him speaking of a taken city many times. A city that now belonged to the dead. He also spoke of a master of the master. I do not know what he referred to, but he talked of this master of the master more than once.

  “I do remember the cleric’s name, though,” she said, voice now firm and looking decisively back into Reza’s eyes. A curl of disgust and a snarl sounded as she spat out the name.

  “Lashik.”

  Holding onto her spite for a moment longer, she sighed and appeared to calm, closing her eyes momentarily before reverting back to her usual, haunting balance between a melancholy and sweetly appreciative demeanor.

  “You have done my family a great service in releasing them from the taint of that hex. I cannot see,” she said, slightly frustrated. “Are we near my family’s burial tomb?”

  Reza, slightly confused by the question, answered, “Yes. The tombs are not but a few hundred paces from here. What do you mean you can’t see? You can see me, right?”

  “You are all I can see. The wearer of this ring. Other than the faint auras of life forces around you and the occasional window into your perception, I am connected to this realm only through you. I am blind. No other soul can see or interact with me either. You are the only one that can visit this strange rift between realms.”

  Reza looked at her sleeping comrades, seeing that the bright light that had lit up the camp seemed to not affect them in the least, understanding why no one but she was startled when she had put on the ring.

  The spirit began talking again.

  “My name is Isis. I instructed my daughter to give you this ring, Reza. It was her final act before our great parting—” she said, this time clearly emotionally struggling to finish her statement.

  Tender moments and topics were areas that Reza felt ill at home with, and she didn’t know how to respond, but after considering her last statement, she asked, “How do you know my name? I haven’t given it to you.”

  Placing a spectral hand on Reza’s knee, Isis said, “There was a moment between the release of the hex’s power and the transfer of my spirit catching hold of this ring’s enchantment, when you were upon your deathbed from my daughter’s mortal attack. At that moment, I heard someone whisper your name as tenderly as I’ve ever heard a name spoken. As reverent as a loved one voicing a burial rite. That man that spoke your name, he cares greatly for you. Of that I know.”

  Reza turned away, not sure how she felt about the opinion or wanting to consider it at the moment. Seeing Reza’s obvious awkwardness towards the subject, Isis shifted and stood up.

  “I feel the age upon this enchantment is great. I don’t know how much further I can stay with you, but I do hope you call me forth again. It has been many ages since I’ve been given a companion and have been given control of my own mind. I am glad the ring has fallen upon you, Reza.”

  Reza wanted to keep her there with her, to learn more about her or of the enemy they faced, but when she finally opened her mouth to speak, the specter began fading in with the phosphorescent mist that weaved in and out of the camp.

  Isis now indiscernibly intermingled with the currents of spectral flow, Reza laid back, keeping the ring on, reflecting of the unexpected conversation she had with the ghost of a woman whose remains she had just crushed into powder earlier that day.

  Thinking on Isis’ story while watching the glowing mist weave in and around her, she whispered one word into the night sky.

  “Lashik.”

  The mist seemed to whirl angrily at the mention of the dark cleric’s name.

  10

  Jadugarmok’s Finest Spirits

  It had been a long day of rest, but with the fall of the starlit night, the camp was well lit, and raucous laughter and singing, especially from Fin, Cavok, and Jadu, resounded all through the empty shell of the ruins.

  “To my new friend, Jadu! What tongue you have for fine spirits, little one!” Cavok bellowed, raising a chipped mug a little too enthusiastically high into the air.

  Some of the liquor sloshed out of the mug, flinging next to the campfire, lighting the drizzling alcohol aflame in dramatic flashes of green, orange, and red, causing a renewed round of laughter from most present at the fireside.

  Reza watched the folly in disapproval, seeing that even Bede, usually the most sensible one among her comrades, was more than just a little merry at this point.

  “What is this stuff, Jadu?” Fin asked, badly slurring his words.

  “Ah, yes. The contents of my intoxicant. That, unfortunately, is a closely guarded secret—one which I cannot divulge. You see, I made that mistake once, telling a colleague of mine the recipe. Soon I was out of a drinking buddy and colleague! He went and started a very successful bar showcasing my drink as his own! Never again. This little beauty’s secret goes with me to the grave,” he said between hiccups, leaning forward to kiss his beaker he had been drinking from.

  The giggling died down for a moment, Reza just letting out a sigh of relief when Cavok let out a belch so powerful, Everyone’s chest cavity around the campfire vibrated from the bass of the proclamation, with Reza quickly covering her still
recuperating ears.

  Fumes from Cavok’s breath mixed with the heat of the fire, lighting aflame a trail leading back to the man’s open mouth, exploded the air around the group momentarily, strong enough to blow Cavok off of the boulder he sat on, landing him on his back in the sand. The rest were on the ground soon after, not from the flash, but from Cavok’s antics.

  Reza seemed to be the only one concerned for Cavok’s wellbeing, but soon after the explosion had felled him, she could see a large hand reach out and grab Jadu, easily picking up the little figure, whose sleepy eyes opened wide as soon as he realized his feet weren’t on the ground any more, shouting, “I’m flying! By my chin, I’m flying!”

  Holding the small man above him, placing a silencing finger to his mouth, shushing him, Reza could hear Cavok mumble in his deep voice that could be heard even over the continued roar of laughter from the others, “I like you. You’re staying with us.”

  With his most important message declared, the large man released Jadu who plopped down on his head in the sand, flipping upright to spray a mouth full of sand all over an audience who found the scene to be hilarious. All, that is, but for Reza.

  Getting up, having had enough entertainment for the evening, she began to walk out of the firelight, thinking to stroll the ruins one last time before they packed camp on the morrow and headed out.

  “Easterner, from what I’ve heard, you’d make a great addition to our group. What do you say about coming along with us, hmm? Reza can always use another pair of eyes watching out for her,” Fin chuckled.

  Though Reza didn’t quite know if he was seriously extending an invite to their scouting party, or if it were the alcohol talking, she had had enough of the folly being had at the expense of their deadly serious mission.

  “Who are you to offer him a position with us? Are you Sultan Metus who hired us for this job, Fin?”