by Chris Lange
A chilling sensation gripped her toes, crawled up her ankles, and seized her calves. She couldn’t move. Her sword lay out of her reach, her magic was gone, and the only person who might have rescued her had flown to the ethers. A bitter taste flooding her mouth, she looked down.
The cold feeling fastening her to the floor crept up her thighs. A thick layer of black ice now covered her legs, and no matter how much she twisted, kicked, and shoved with her hands, she couldn’t break the armoured hold. Up and up, the frozen glaze enchained her limbs.
She raised her gaze to the motionless, shadowed figure opposite her, as a recollection overran her mind. Cameron had wanted to steer clear of the Forest of the Dead to spend the night in a settlement belonging to a warrior clan. In the leader’s house, she’d been sitting by the fire when Doireann’s eyes glazed over and she uttered a fateful prediction.
You are mates, and you’re in love with each other. May the Mighty Gods help us, the darkness will devour you both.
The wife of the warrior clan’s leader had warned her about the certainty of prophecies. They couldn’t be prevented, whatever actions were undertaken to thwart them, and the wise woman had been so right in all aspects. Mates they were, so in love with each other that her heart ached. Cameron had already been devoured and she’d be next.
She still managed to keep fear at bay, despite the coldness cramping her body and soul. Death had caught up with her, but the acute hope of being reunited with him in the ethers filled her with peace.
The black layer of ice reached her belly and constricted her hands. She tried to flex her fingers, but they seemed rigid as stone. Frost surrounded her wrists just as the Darkening’s hood tilted to the side.
No begging to save your life?
“I can’t beg for something impossible. You aren’t worthy of saving a human life. You are just dirt under the foot of a Mighty God.”
Too late she saw the long claw rush at her with frightening speed. The razor-sharp nails sank into the flesh of her face, and cut her open from cheekbone to chin. She screamed, her shout of pain rebounding on the pillars and echoing around the walls of the dark fortress.
Chapter Forty-Two
Not so cocky now.
Blood gushed down the side of her face. She felt the thick liquid wet her skin and heard drop after drop hit the floor. This injury was serious enough to drain all the blood from her body, and with her magic gone, she had no means to heal herself. Realising she wouldn’t last long now, she defied the cloaked form.
“You seem cocky enough for the both of us. Yet here I am, still alive, and ready to pound on your ugly mug.”
The rough cackles originating from under the hood grated on her nerves as the ice imprisoned her arms and chest, but she maintained a straight face. Why was the Darkening delaying the moment of her death? Helpless, caged in indestructible frost, what threat could she represent?
The only thing you’re ready for is dying.
“Then why don’t you just kill me?”
Because you have utterly failed, and so have your so-called Mighty Gods. They have no power over me. They are weak, inconsistent, and selfish. I am the future. I am humanity, come to rule this realm. Before I eradicate your kind, you shall see what will come to pass when I reign over your world. So will your Gods, through your eyes. I want them to witness their complete failure.
So that was the reason the darkness kept her alive a little longer. To brag, to show off its domination and triumph over the Creators.
The thick coat of ice slithered up her neck, chin, and cheeks, freezing her flesh, annihilating the intense pain from her wound. Oddly enough, given that she was being buried alive, she breathed more easily as soon as the pain vanished. The sombre figure raised its sharp claw, and she braced herself for total darkness, silence, and desolation.
The hateful presence, the vast hallway, and the black fortress disappeared while clear images replaced them in her mind. Eyes wide open on a vision that had not yet come to pass, she watched the new world engendered by the victory of the Darkening.
A glorious sun spread heat over immense fields where wheat, rye, and corn ripened under the warm rays. Strong trees shot toward the deep blue skies bearing oranges, lemons, olives, and many coloured fruits. Clear water tumbled along streamlets, large rivers, or cascaded down high, beautiful cliffs.
Snow capped soaring mountains, their pointy peaks reaching for the ethers, the steep sides down to the bottom displaying lush, green vegetation. Fresh grass grew around vast lakes glittering under the reflection of the sun, and bordering dense, thriving forests.
An endless body of blue-green liquid rolled or churned under the force of invisible currents, its powerful waters extending as far as the eye could see. The amazing mass undulated and rippled with the wind. Long bands of white curls formed on the surface where the expanse ended, and came to die before thin, golden stretches of land.
What was she fighting for? Why did the Mighty Gods want to prevent the rise of such a gorgeous, breath taking world?
“I don’t understand.”
The words barely passed her lips before the black ice engulfed the rest of her face, freezing her eyes open for all eternity. There was no way she could still breathe with her mouth and nose blocked, yet she felt no lack of air, and she could still make out the sombre form through the frozen layer. Cold, trapped, and buried alive, just like in her nightmares.
You will.
She gasped when vivid, coloured images assaulted her mind again. Huge cities invaded the landscape, people swarming the pathways like industrious colonies of ants. So many people flocking alleys, lanes, and wide, gray streets where metal carts on wheels whizzed past them. Gigantic towers reflecting the glare of the sun stood as high as the sky.
In dark, narrow paths between tall buildings, people got knifed in the guts while others fell from being hit with small projectiles in the shape of pointed cylinders. Clean looking structures housed animals in cages. The defenceless creatures were beaten, tormented, and maimed to create small pills and oily artefacts.
Near the statue of a lady holding a flame, big birds made of metal flew across the sky to crash into high towers, causing human shapes on fire to jump out of windows and plummet to their deaths.
Entire towns vanished, destroyed by an explosive weapon releasing smoke in the form of a mushroom cloud. Men of war separated entire families before locking them up in chambers that filled with lethal gas. Warriors transported in flat boats were cut down to pieces as they landed on stretches of yellow land displaying big, square blocks of stone.
All over the world, soldiers decimated whole populations with black, metal tube weapons. Hot and cold territories shook with screams of pain, soaked in the blood of their people.
In a vast, arid land scorched by the sun, brown-skinned infants died of starvation, their dried tears crusted to the corner of their eyes. Little girls were mutilated. Somewhere else, men paid to rape and torture children.
Stop! Please, stop!
Her frozen mouth didn’t allow her to speak, yet she heard her yell of anguish resonate around the fortress.
Stop. I can’t stand it anymore.
Bile rose up her throat. Her insides shuddered with revulsion at the memory of such cruelty and misery, of all that blood spilled for nothing. Maybe those people had chosen the Darkening as their master. Or they had lost hope, and let it become their ruler... Exactly like she was doing.
Fear and understanding struck her at last, just as the Lord of the Clans’ words burst through her immobility to swirl and echo in her brain. If you surrender to despair, then you dig your own grave. You must have hope.
She had now. Sickened and revolted by the atrocious pictures she witnessed, her entire being rebelled at the idea of seeing her world fall into such viciousness. She would not allow it.
The hooded form had called itself humanity because hate, barbarity, and evil lurked within its dark folds. They existed in the Four Kingdoms, although not to this
extreme degree of violence.
The people from the new world had let evil take over their souls, and it had unleashed their deepest wickedness. She wouldn’t commit the same mistake. She owed it to Cameron, and to her realm.
Horror made her blood boil. She’d lost all physical sensations when the frost enclosed her body, but pins and needles now pricked her fingers and toes. The unexpected pain inflamed her fury as the Darkening approached her. When unbearable heat suddenly whooshed up her limbs to transform her into a vibrant, fiery mass, she let it.
Dazzling, white light burst out of her body and shattered the black ice to pieces. So violent was the explosion that frozen chunks ripped through the dark cloak. The evil stepped back, but the gaping hole under the hood remained as black as the darkest night.
There you are. You’re finally showing me your real force.
Every inch of her skin gave off brilliance. The great power from the Ancients ran freely in her blood, awakening all her senses, taking complete possession of her body and mind. The pain vanished as she allowed the old magic to seize her and become her, while hope and faith flooded her core.
Although she revelled in the incredibly staggering sensation, she stayed in control. The Ancients were giving her their full power, as was meant to be, but they didn’t dictate her actions. She did.
“I will not allow you to create this new world.”
The horrid laugh coming from the darkness seemed to crack her brain. Teeth gritted, she shuddered when it spoke with a hissing voice.
I don’t create anything. I exploit what’s already there. The realm I showed to your Mighty Gods is what’s left of the Four Kingdoms once I’m done with it.
Her pulse pounded in her ears, kicking her heart, lighting sparks of fire into each of her nerves. She was liberated from the black ice, and she burned with the desire to hurl her power at the monster challenging her.
Yet she bid her time because she knew. As the evil revealed the fate of the Four Kingdoms, she grasped the true nature of its essence, as well as the only means to rid her world of its foul presence.
Face to face, they waited. Because she stood at least six foot five, and her big muscles bulged and strained with the need to strike, she had the impression of observing her enemy through the Lord of the Clans’ eyes. As though he was still there. Thinking of him only made her radiate more light.
“Bring it on, you motherfucker.”
You believe your Mighty Gods will protect you because they entrusted their will in you, but they’re wrong. You can’t slay me.
Confidence and white light oozing from her, she quirked her lips into a smirk and crooked her finger.
“Then what are you afraid of?”
Her challenging gesture shattered the status quo. The cloaked figure dissolved into a large cloud of black dust and slammed into her. She didn’t fight when the evil penetrated her body through every pore, but embraced it instead. She rocked as it went through her, across her, and into her—to steal her humanity. Eyes closed, she let it claim her.
Black dust gagged her. She felt like retching as smut seized her vital organs and flooded her blood, yet she clung to the hope of saving her people, of fulfilling the crucial role entrusted to her by the long dead Ancients, and of being worthy of Cameron’s faith in her.
You were the sole, pitiful defence between me and my new playground filled with weak, terrorised humans. But you’re dying, creature, and your universe is mine to haunt and torture for as long as I wish.
Even deep inside her, the Darkening could still reach her brain. She could hear munching noises as it suckled her blood and gnawed at her heart, but the white light kept on glowing off her. Gaze fastened on the dark shadows ruling over the Black Fortress, she let the evil feast on her.
She had to make it her prisoner. She needed to ensure it would be too immersed inside her to flee. Against all survival instincts, she mustered her willpower to remain motionless and allow the monster to devour her. She closed her conscience to the scrunching sounds, yet the hissing voice still penetrated her mind with extreme clarity.
I am The Lord. You cannot destroy me.
The Darkening was right. She never possessed the means to kill it, because her great power wasn’t a weapon of war.
Unbearable pain struck her when the dust latched onto the last barrier of her being. She screamed as it lashed at her core. It cackled as she filled her lungs with a last breath. This darkness of the human soul wasn’t a fatality, but a disease, and she was a healer.
She shut her eyes to the outside world. At her command, the magic flew inward to cure her dying body. She heard a strangled gasp followed by a long, hateful bellow of agony.
Then she knew no more.
Chapter Forty-Three
She sensed a glow through her closed eyelids and wished to wake in the ethers where Cameron was waiting for her. He had died for her, but their souls would find each other.
Although she felt no pain, she’d have liked to shirk remembering. The Black Fortress, the duel lost against the dark evil determined to take over the realm, the magic from the Ancients curing the greatest disease of the world.
She had done it.
She’d found hope and faith in her heart, and destroyed the Darkening. Against all odds, the Four Kingdoms were saved.
What happened after that? She must have flown to the ethers because she felt relaxed and at peace. Did people keep their bodies in that sacred place amongst the Mighty Gods?
She could feel her weight, her legs, back, and arms resting on a soft mattress. When she inhaled, her nose picked up the scent of lavender wafting off the linen covering her body.
The loud rattle of pots somewhere outside disturbed her serenity, along with the incessant clatter of hooves on cobbled streets, and far away rough voices. Where was she?
The time to open her eyes had come, yet reluctance gripped her heart. What if she was still alive? How would she live without him?
It seemed a lifetime ago she’d woken up under his tent to find herself in his body. Like she had done then, she slid a slow hand toward her groin. No penis. No hairy balls. Just her.
The emptiness between her thighs filled her with relief. As much as she’d enjoyed being the Lord of the Clans for a while, she wouldn’t have been able to keep up the pretence when faced with his tribe, his people, or eventual war. Besides, she had no right to be him anymore.
She slithered her fingers under a short, light gown and glided them over her belly, up around her breasts with flat nipples.
Reassured by the reality and smoothness of her skin, she realised stalling the inevitable wouldn’t change her situation, wherever she was. She had already confronted great peril head-on. She‘d face this new ordeal with courage.
Upon opening her eyes, she saw the ceiling first. Brown, strong beams crossed a room that appeared large. She lay in a big bed with fresh, white linen covering her body, and a soft pillow under her head.
She glanced toward the closed door made of solid oak before catching sight of a massive wardrobe adorned with intricate carvings. A chair sat next to it, also exquisitely carved. Tribes didn’t live in such luxury, nor did villagers, so she must be in the house of a very wealthy person.
No candles were lit, but golden sunrays brightened the place as they flooded through the high windows flanked by thick, stone walls. By the look of it, this house had been built to withstand any attack.
And there was her shaman, looking out the window, his bony hands laced behind his back. He appeared deep in thought, although she could only see the back of his head. For him to stand a few feet from her confirmed her worst suspicions: death hadn’t claimed her, and she’d have to spend the rest of her life without Cameron. Never again would she feel his big arms around her.
Hurt and grief overwhelmed her, tears threatening to rise up from her torn soul. Yet she refused to weep now, not with her mentor standing watch over her, probably worried enough. Willing her pain to stay down, she forced her tongue t
hrough her dry lips.
“Shaman?”
He whirled round when she croaked. Eyes widening, he rushed to her and sat clumsily on the large bed.
“You gave me such a fright, dear girl.”
“If it’s any consolation, I scared myself too.”
Her throat grated as though she hadn’t spoken for days. In spite of the mild ache, she pushed the words out when he took her hand.
“Where am I?”
“In the city of Palance.”
What? Dear Creators, she had so often dreamt of setting eyes on the legendary city where royalty dwelt that she had trouble registering his answer. He must be mistaken, although this kind of error felt hard to conceive.
How could she possibly be here, so far away from the Shrouded Mountains and the Black Fortress? And how was she back in her own body?
“How long have I been...asleep?”
“Over half a moon now.”
She winced. Days and days had gone by while she slumbered away in a cosy, warm bedchamber.
“Are you sure? Nobody can sleep that long.”
“I’d agree with you in normal circumstances, but you got caught in a very unusual situation. I believe the magic put you to sleep in order for you to recover from such an ordeal.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you haven’t fed or drank this whole time, yet you’re perfectly healthy. Only powerful magic can sustain a body for so long. I tried to rouse you at first, but you appeared so peaceful that I figured it would be best to let you rest. I knew the Ancients would protect you.”
She wanted to ask him how she had ended up in the mythical city, but if she did he’d speak of Cameron, and she couldn’t bear the thought right now. The mere idea turned her stomach to mush.
Whoever rescued her from the Black Fortress to carry her back to Palance must also have found his corpse. Given that so many days had passed since the final battle, they must have buried him already.
“I’m thirsty.”
“Forgive me, child. I’m so happy to see you back with us, it seems I forget the essentials of life. Here, drink this.”