Saving The Dark Side Book 2: The Harbingers

by Joseph Paradis

  Cole shook himself, gripping his hair until individual strands snapped free. He knew he was being stupid. He had placed more value on a simple kiss than he ought to have, but whenever his mind relaxed she pulled at him like a riptide. His heart and stomach seemed to be twisting themselves into a heavy knot, eluding every meditative trick he tried. He punched the wall, leaving deep gouges leaking with sap.

  Opening up the armoire, Cole found an entire wardrobe stocked for him. There were several outfits, all singlets with thickened armored sections and verdant, flowing designs worked into the trim. There were no shoes or gloves, though there was a bandoleer and a short, over-the-shoulder cape. The material was stretchy and patterned more like earthy camouflage. From Cole’s limited experience with Aenerian fashion, he guessed these outfits would suit him just fine at either a formal dinner or a fight for his life. He might look like some kind of ridiculous comic-book hero, but it was certainly preferable to the Colossus-stained rags he currently wore. He closed the armoire, wondering if he was perhaps about to wear Varka’s old clothes. He waited for it, but there was no response from his subconscious tagalong.

  As he suspected, the apartment wound around to a bathing room similar to his tree at The Sill. Without bothering to take his clothes off, he stepped into the abrasive shower ring and allowed the magic to disintegrate his armor and filth. He did another pass for good measure, leaving his skin raw.

  After his shower Cole was too tired for much else, even food. Weariness from the night before crashed over him, dragging his eyelids shut and pulling him towards the bed. He didn’t bother checking for undergarments, instead crawling into bed naked. With a lazy flick of Wisdom, his timepiece flew from his bag and thwapped into his palm. He set the device to wake him long before his trial, which ought to be more than enough time to recover and get ready. Perhaps he would find Lileth in the early dawn and tempt her with breakfast, just as friends.

  Cole’s dreams seemed unable to make up their mind. He was in the hallways of his high school, trying to find the quickest way to Roth’s lesson. Arcturus’s voice came over the intercom, beckoning him to come to his office, but then he wouldn’t be able to visit Joshy like he’d promised. Bumping through tall shoulders and mean glares, Cole fought his way to Arcturus’s office. The throngs were too thick and the people around him seemed to be getting taller, or was he shrinking? He was going to be late. The crowd pushed him along as though he were a log floating down a river. Cole eventually broke free near winding stairs that led to Arcturus’s office. The stairs were empty, though something echoed down to him, enticing yet haunting. Cole lunged up the steps, taking them two at a time. The bell rang; he was definitely late now.

  The steps became a wooden ramp, its grainy slats wet with spilled oil from those that had climbed ahead of him. He peered over the edge of the ramp, taking in the riotous debauchery below him. He was exhausted and the bag of odium made his arms burn, but he had no choice but to trudge on; he was chosen. Cole followed the line shuffling ahead of him, which had mercifully stopped near the very top. Leaning against the tower, he hoisted his bag of odium to his shoulder and indulged in a little break. After he’d enjoyed a moment of peaceful reflection, something slammed into his gut, pulling him tight to the tower and taking the air from him. He could barely breathe, but that didn’t matter. He couldn’t die. He was special. He was chosen.

  An overwhelming desire seemed to move his limbs for him. He twisted the cap off his bag, pouring the odium over his head. It was warmer than he expected, and sweet. His tongue wandered over his lips, savoring the tang of the oil. A scent of cooking meat wafted up from far below. He sniffed eagerly, only now aware of how ravenous he was.

  Cole’s eyes snapped wide, bringing him back to his tree-top apartment. The lights had shut themselves out, though the Rage stone bathed the room in a bloody glow. He was cold. The blankets had fallen off, leaving him completely naked. He must have kicked them off during his nightmare. Breathing a quivering sigh of relief, Cole sat himself up to find the blankets. To his confusion however, he hadn’t moved an inch. He was still lying like a corpse upon a mortician’s table. Dimly disoriented, he tried again, only to find himself utterly stuck to the bed. He had no control over his body.

  Something buzzed near his ear, passing over the murky light of the Rage stone. It landed on him, stinging and biting. Cole swatted at the thing, but only in his mind. His arm lay still, and to his horror was covered with flies. They had been there all along, crawling and pinching. Another landed on his cheek. Cole watched helplessly as the little out-of-focus wings twitched their way to the tip of his nose. His body useless to him, Cole grasped at his Wisdom, igniting a spell that would burn the entire tree down. But his Wisdom wouldn’t come. He couldn’t find it. Cole’s mind was occluded with something thick and rancid. With a brittle heart he recognized the touch of Fear.

  The bed shuddered. From the very bottom of Cole’s periphery, he saw a spindly bone-white hand groping at the footboard. Another hand joined the first. Something heavy slid from under the bed as a hooded figure ascended between the two hands. Even in the shadows of the crimson light, there was no mistaking the purple-tinged lips, the mouth far too large, the curtains of wrinkled skin jiggling under a bony chin. The Corpulant rose, its knees and spine popping and snapping its way to full height. More flies dropped from its bulky sleeves, taking flight before they hit the ground. The bone-stick fingers moved towards Cole’s bare feet, twitching with anticipation. Long hands enveloped his ankles like snakes of ice. The Corpulant’s chin dropped, its purple lips stretching against the dried mucus that glued them together. The lips split at a corner, making a sticky, peeling sound as the gap ran to the other cheek. Cole watched paralyzed as his feet were lifted from the bed.

  Cole’s screams echoed in his mind as his toes inched towards the twitching maw. The mouth popped ever wider, as Cole knew it would. His toenails touched first, scraping and snagging on the ribbed upper palate. The Corpulant’s breath slid like cold oil over his legs, tickling the hairs on his shins. His feet were gone now, sliding along the chilly wetness of its throat. The gangly hands crawled up to his knees as the Corpulant dragged itself up onto the bed. The maw continued to widen as Cole’s shins and legs passed through. The chapped lips began to crack and bleed as they wiggled wider over his naked thighs. A hand wove its way around the back of his neck, the other under his back, lifting and pulling as the lips scratched over his genitals. The Corpulant worked its head back and forth, side to side, its jaw cracking wider as the mouth worked its way up Cole’s stomach.

  From the depths of the fleshy tube, Cole’s lifeless feet met something sharp and alive. The thing recoiled and struggled, gnawing and cutting into him like an animal backed into a corner. Cole was moving quickly now, sliding like a foot into a slipper of dank meat. The lips passed over his arms, scraping and bleeding over his nipples and shoulder. The Corpulant swallowed and shook, making more room within its gut for him. The thing that bit at Cole’s feet was now wedged between the walls and his buttocks, thrashing and slicing in renewed panic.

  The hood fell back, revealing a head with sparse, wiry hair and a shiny scalp pocked with liver marks. Its deep black eyes came up to Cole’s as its nose bumped his. Its upper lip squirmed and clamped over Cole’s, filling his mouth with a rancid stench of old vomit.

  • • • •

  The walls of the Council Chamber echoed with a bevy of excited questions and shrewd warnings. The chamber was full; however, every seat was empty. Each member of the Celestial Council was locked in debate with one of many circles discussing the same thing from different angles.

  “Wait a moment, what time is the trial? We should push it back a few hours. We’re not prepared,” said a portly man, his belly resting on a table as he searched his pockets.

  “Preposterous!” a vulture of a woman replied, jabbing her beak-like nose to the man. “It’s no trial at all, we’re merely asking the boy a few questions. And you know as well as I do t
hat Chiron won’t hold out another minute. The old tyrant is likely waiting outside our doors as we speak! You did lock it didn’t you?”

  “Yes, yes, we’re quite free of him for now,” the man said, waving a stubby arm towards the main door. He pulled a timepiece from a deep pocket of his robes. “We’ve still a few hours anyhow. Chiron won’t show up that early. Still think we ought to push this off a bit. Or perhaps get the boy up here alone?”

  Arcturus approached the Speaker’s dais and slumped into his desk, which showed no sign of the previous day’s violence. His injured arm was secured to his chest, immobilized with a lattice of green crystal. With a flourish, he conjured an emerald hammer and matching bell, each hovering in the air on front of him. Arcturus nodded to the hammer, and it tapped the bell, filling the chamber with a concussing gong. The conversation sputtered and faded as everyone took their seats.

  Arcturus cleared his throat ceremoniously, adjusting the neck of his white robes. “I hear a lot of excellent ideas being exchanged, but as usual, you’re all sprinting in separate directions. We’ll get nowhere if we don’t bring consensus to our efforts.”

  The vulture woman let out a chuckling hiss. “Perhaps when you contribute something of value to this Council your ideas will have some pull as well, Speaker.”

  There was a smattering of agreement at which Arcturus could only scowl. He silenced the rising din with another ring of the bell, sending the Council grumbling to their seats around their crescent table.

  Keeping his bell and hammer at the ready, Arcturus waited until all eyes were on him before speaking. “Our appointment with the human is scheduled to start in two hours’ time. It is my intent for the Council to reach consensus before he arrives. Lamnar, why don’t you lead us off with your concerns.”

  A bald man stood, addressing the entire Council. He twisted his sleeves and spoke with shaky confidence. “As Wisdom Walker for the house of Allias, I have a number of concerns regarding this human. Chief of which is the security of the aethers. While there is no evidence of aggression from The Three, we cannot assume they won’t fall into their old habits. Travel to the local planets still eludes the Council, so it can be assumed that The Three are as stationary as we. The human is obviously the key to Travel, and must not fall into the arms of The Three.”

  “Thank you Lamnar,” Arcturus replied, scribbling rapidly across a fresh scroll. “Your concern has been added to the consensus. Next Wisdom Walker?”

  The portly man rose from his seat as Lamnar took his. He cleared his throat with a series of neat little grunts before opening his mouth.

  An explosion shook the chamber. Council members jumped, hiding behind each other or diving below the table. Wide eyes jolted to the only door in the room, which looked as though it had been knocked crooked. Another bang followed the first, sending dust and chips sprinkling from the edges of the door frame.

  Arcturus peeked up from below his desk. He flinched as another bang sent his hammer and bell falling to the floor, where they shattered and vanished. He rose silently, taking a timid step towards the door before glancing back to the Council. Hushed murmurs urged him on. He held his palm in front of him, and a crystalline shield flashed to life. He approached the door, holding his shield high with a look of forced bravery. The banging stopped. Arcturus dismissed his shield, reaching to unlock the door as the Council members behind him readied offensive spells. Before his fingers touched the smooth stone, the door gave an ancient groan as it tipped forward. Arcturus dove to the side as the massive slab crashed to the floor.

  Standing in the door frame was a figure shrouded in a black so complete that it seemed to darken the space around it. Bladed hair clinking, the figure leaped onto the fallen door. In its munisica appeared to be large, bloody mess of blankets. The figure stalked into the chamber with such confidence that not a soul in the room dared speak or loose a spell for Fear of provoking it. Dragging the bloody bundle along, the figure painted a swath of ruddy purple along the onyx floor. The figure cast the lump across the chamber, where it landed in a wet heap on the crescent desk of the Celestial Council.

  • • • •

  Cole’s Rage seethed, begging him to take action as he stood before the Celestial Council. He ground his armored teeth. Now was not the time. Not the place. He capped his Rage before it could burn any hotter, halting the growth of his munisica. He savored the dread and shocked faces that surrounded him, reveling in their weakness.

  “Identify yourself, Rage Follower,” demanded a woman with a beak-like nose. “You are surrounded by the most powerful Wisdom-users on Aeneria; we will harbor no lies or threats here.”

  Cole shut his eyes, inhaling the electrified scent of ozone as his ears picked up the zapping of fingers readying spells. He wanted them to attack. When nothing happened, he exhaled, opening his eyes as his Rage-shrouded voice filled the room. “I am the human.”

  Befuddled gawking was his only reply. Cole raised his chin and opened his arms to them, inviting their attack, but none came. Instead, the Council’s eyes slackened, unblinking and sightless, though their spells remained coiled in their hands.

  Speaker Arcturus broke the silence with the voice of the entire Council: “Your appointment is not for another two hours. You will leave and return at the assigned time. Tread carefully human, further acts of aggression will be taken as open threats and we will react accordingly.”

  Cole grinned, not bothering to look at Arcturus. He had no intention of leaving. Not before he had his say. He watched with savage pleasure as the two Council members in front of him lost their stoic composure, coughing and gagging as the stink of the corpse on the table struck them. They swatted flies away with flaming hands.

  “And take this rotten thing with you,” the woman closest to him said through the crook of her elbow. “What is this anyhow? Wait, is this a body?” Her elbow dropped as she snapped to a look of alarm. “Was this a person?”

  “That is evidence,” Cole said, joining the claws of his hand, pointing them like a broad dagger. “That is your proof that The Three are still your enemy.”

  “That’s a Corpulant!” the man next to her wailed, shoving the corpse away from him. Flies took flight at the jostling. “The human has brought a Corpulant into Council Chambers!”

  The chamber erupted with contentious shouting. Those nearest the Corpulant pushed themselves away, while those farthest inched closer for a look. Cole stood like a burning tree in the middle of all of it, doing his best not to lash out at the lot of them.

  A moment later, Eliza and Chiron skidded over the fallen door, relief flooding each of their faces. Cole was only just now aware of her Passion battering against his Rage-hardened mind.

  “Cole!” Eliza rushed forward, looking unsure if it was safe to touch him or not. She stopped just outside reach of his claws, speaking with a shaky voice. “I was awoken by Fear and death! I felt you slipping into the void, but the Fear clouded you from our bond. Oh Cole, I thought I was too late!”

  She reached forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He could barely feel her touch.

  Chiron pulled Eliza away, his eyes scrutinizing. “Are you in control?”

  Cole’s lip twitched. “Barely.”

  Chiron nodded. “Then let us leave. You’ve made your point.”

  “No, I haven’t,” Cole growled, turning and stalking towards Arcturus.

  The Speaker cowered behind his desk, ringing a conjured bell as though his life depended on it. Cole stopped before the dais, catching Arcturus’s eyes with the full weight of his Rage.

  Cole forced the words out so hard that his voice drowned out all else, including the gonging bell. “Hear my words, Speaker. Hear them for the whole Council, because I’m only going to say them once.”

  Arcturus dropped his bell as silence fell over the chamber.

  Cole lowered his voice: “That is a Corpulant that just attacked me in my sleep not ten minutes ago. Within this very temple. The Three are acting against you as w
e speak. That is your proof.”

  Cole turned to walk away before he said more, but his growing Rage immolated his inhibitions. He stopped and spoke over his shoulder. “I am a human, and I have Traveled both in and out of turn. And though I have no idea how, I destroyed the barrier and allowed the Soul Flies to return. I can use your magic. All of it. These things are possible because part of Varka is inside me. Believe it or don’t. I’m leaving to go fight The Three.”

  Without another word, Cole left the chamber in ringing silence.

  Cole was dimly aware of Chiron and Eliza joining him on the lift. He knew they wanted to talk, but at the moment he didn’t much care. He was busy debating whether or not he should dig his way out of the temple and run away. The lift hummed and started its descent.

  “You may want to release the shroud,” Chiron mentioned in an offhand tone. “The sight will cause unnecessary excitement throughout the temple. Even more so than what you just did.”

  “I’m naked,” he replied, holding his eyes forward.

  “Well that’s an easy fix,” Chiron said, tapping Cole hard on the shoulder.

  Through the shroud, Cole felt the slightest shift in weight as gray Underkin’s cloth wrapped itself around his body. Cole glanced down, making sure it covered the necessities. The lift began to slow.

  “Need a little help?” Chiron asked when Cole did not dismiss his Rage.

  “Yes,” Cole admitted, grinding his shrouded teeth. It was all he could do to halt the spread of the Rage. Releasing it was still beyond him.

  “Eliza, if you would be so kind,” Chiron said, taking a small step back.