Shadow Kalloire

by Skylar Gentry

  Elinor whispered in disbelief, “You’re a legatius.” The ancient one’s eyes stopped glowing. They returned to yellowish-brown. The testalar’s hum and brilliance quieted. “You’re all supposed to be gone.” In response to Elinor’s misconception the ancient one raised an eyebrow. “You left during Light Fall,” she continued, “none have been seen since.”

  “We are here. You are there. Alone, yet together.”

  Elinor recovered. She snatched her polearm and stood, slightly wobbling off balance. “Stay away, coward.” The ancient one remained expressionless. “How could you? You abandoned us when we needed you most. First the light faded. Then the hunters came. Where were you?” Elinor sniffed. She wiped her nose with her sleeve and scoffed, “Some protectors of light you are.”

  Her tirade was interrupted by an abrasive scraping as the raft bottomed out. The ancient one stepped aside. Cautiously, taking gingerly steps across the raft, Elinor reached for her satchel. She walked backward with her weapon positioned in front of her. “I meant it. Stay away. I don’t want your help.” Elinor ran up the embankment. When she looked back in response to a sudden flash of light, the ancient one was gone.

  Covered in mud and aurora-hunter blood Elinor raced ahead. She passed stone pillars covered in phosphorescent algae. The plum-colored columns separated the border of Lower Lightendom and the realm directly to the north, Gargan Mount, rough terrain that was once heavily forested and home to gentle titans and winged serpents that fed on metamorphic rock and raised their young in the tar pits of the Black Knolls. That is where Elinor was destined to go after her frantic run from the raft. The pits would provide warmth and with it a higher concentration of algae, her only food source. Elinor found herself behind the aurora-hunter’s most southern flank. With so many still occupying her homeland she expected to encounter less resistance as she moved north. And the increase in algae and night flora would provide more light to travel by. Her odds of survival were slightly better than none.

  As she traveled farther her pace slowed. The terrain became more inhospitable. Steep inclines and loose gravel made her ascent treacherous. On several occasions she lost her footing. Jagged rock tore through her already tattered clothing, slicing her pale skin. Elinor crouched next to an abandoned outpost to catch her breath. She eyed notches on one of its stone walls. A sentry, perhaps one of her kin, had been counting the days until relief arrived or worse, death. It was as good of a place as any to die, Elinor thought. For the first time in her young life she realized she would die alone. There was no one left. She always knew she would die in battle but believed she would perish fighting side by side with her father. She had been robbed of that small comfort.

  Overcome by exhaustion, Elinor lay within the shelter. Tears dripped down her filthy face and try as she may to put it behind her, she was haunted by images of her father’s death. Their last moments together replayed in her mind. Elinor curled in a ball and wept.

  A massive corridor of polished stone seemed endless. Blazing torches formed shadows across the floor and up walls coated by murals depicting armored-clad warriors, adorned in crimson capes. White birds flew above them. Sunlight coming through an opening in the ceiling highlighted an emblem inlaid in the floor. It was set before an archway with a wedge-shaped keystone. Above, an inscribed, bronze plaque curved the length of the voussoirs from one springer to the other.

  During the darkest of days and the longest of nights, we will hold the line.

  When our arms are heavy and our legs grow weary, we will hold the line.

  With compassionate hearts and steely blades, we will hold the line.

  During Evil’s fury and Death’s wrath, we will hold the line.

  When our enemies call and our warriors fall, we will hold the line.

  With the light from our souls and the blood in our veins, we will hold the line.

  They will crush, they will drown, they will burn in our wake. For we are ravens of the rock,

  wolves of the sea. There will be no surrender, nor compromise, nor retreat. We stand as one,

  for we are mighty, for we are the fleet.

  Elinor’s eyes moved from the plaque to the cavernous dome visible through the opening at the end of the corridor. Within, armored ships groaned at anchor. Their weight shifted under lapping water. The dome was reinforced by a truss of load-bearing timbers connected to stone arches and supported by grooved columns. Hanging candelabras scattered darkness to obscure corners. Spiral stairs led to suspended walkways that led across the expanse.

  Elinor stepped through the opening, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the light. But instead of being inside the grotto as expected, she found herself looking up at a curved ceiling covered by a mural depicting ships of the line firing their broadside. She gazed around the room. A red floor runner traversed the corridor. Niches in walls held stone busts. Between the replica heads hung tapestries recounting epic battles. Artifacts and ancient weapons lined the walls.

  “Lord Aysgarth,” an urgent voice boomed. “The shroud has breached the mountain pass. Our weapons are of no use.”

  “Firebombs? Light spears?”

  “All smothered by the dark mist. Nothing can penetrate it.”

  Elinor stood in place. Her head swiveled in search of the voices. No one was visibly in the room with her.

  “Is the keyhole still open?”

  “Yes, sire.”

  “Then recall our lines. We are evacuating the Rock. Load as many as you can and then launch the fleet. Set sail for the west. We have many allies still there.”

  “What of you?”

  “I will not surrender our home so easily.”

  “It would be madness to stay.”

  “As long as there is still a chance, I must try.” Elinor heard the breaking of a chain. “You have your orders. Go now.” Heavy footfalls moved with purpose, past Elinor, and down the corridor.

  “Hold the line, Captain!” the one known as Aysgarth shouted. “Stay true to your oath!”

  Once again Elinor stood in silence. Her fingers and toes tingled, and she felt a numbing sensation moving through her body. She tried to move but was paralyzed. A constricting grasp tightened around her waist. Her body jerked. She was pulled across the floor, down the middle of the runner toward a darkened entry. It cast a foreboding shadow as she drew nearer. Elinor feared what may lay on the other side. As she approached, she heard a faint voice speaking in a familiar tongue. Light-bearer. The grandiose hall faded.

  She was back in the present, being pulled from the outpost she had taken shelter in, across barren rock by a scavenger designed to clean up after untidy aurora-hunters. A rat-like tail with poisonous spikes was dragging Elinor toward its burrow. Muscular legs sloshed through mud as it lumbered down the trail. Its boxy shell scrapped against protruding terrain. Elinor’s heart raced. She tried to reach for her weapon. It was useless. The scavenger’s numbing poison had seeped deep. Of all the horrible ways to die she was going to be eaten alive, underground, alone, and forgotten. The pressure on her waist subsided. From the corner of her eye she saw the slimy scavenger disappear into its hole. Then its skinny arms grabbed her boots and pulled her in.

  Inside, the stench of decaying excrement was unbearable. Heavily gnawed bone littered the ground. Veins of algae lined the space. Deep grooves and thin claw marks were visible in the murky light. The lair had been dug with powerful legs and sculpted by lanky arms. The scavenger snorted. Spindly claws scratching its lengthy snout was enhanced within the confined space.

  Elinor tried to close her eyes that burned with irritation as they dried out, but her eyelids were unresponsive. If she was going to be consumed while trapped in her own body, unable to defend herself, at the very least she wanted to imagine a more suitable death. She was a light-bearer. The last of them. A reluctant warrior charged to keep fire burning. Instead of dying with honor in the fight against eternal darkness, she was going to depart in the most heinous of ways. Overwhelming fear gripped her. She fixated on
the scavenger’s grunts and snivels. She imagined how it would feel to be picked apart while still conscious—how unbearable the pain would be. And all without being able to scream or lash out. Once it started Elinor hoped to pass out quickly from the pain.

  A tear dripped down the side of her freckled face. It fell across her ear onto another scavenger carcass she was arranged on. Algae began to glow in vibrant hues of bluish-green and rich pink, filling the burrow in comforting light. The scavenger turned abruptly. It scurried across the ground and hovered over Elinor’s immobile body. A pulsating eye at the center of its bulbous head glared. Its snout opened and a sticky tongue slathered her face with saliva.

  Elinor silently pleaded for a quick death.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Drool seeped between rows of sneering teeth. Elinor lay motionless, expecting her heart to explode at any moment. The algae radiance grew brighter as did the pendant resting on her chest. It was meek but light the scavenger took notice of. A coarse tongue moved over the pendant’s beveled surface, twice, then a whimper escaped from its foul-smelling mouth.

  From outside Elinor heard the familiar sound of approaching aurora-hunters. Their repetitive clicks signaled they were on the prowl. And getting closer. She wanted to shut her eyes, silence her ears, pinch her nose to the horror unfolding. It was like being trapped in a nightmare. With every passing moment her fear intensified. The outlying image of a hovering predator, the disturbing cries from approaching monsters, the putrid stench of decay, all combined into a torturous ending. As hoped, Elinor realized she would not be afforded a swift death. She was going to be ripped apart, caught between aurora-hunter mandibles on one side and the crushing maw of a scavenger on the other. Another tear fell from Elinor’s face. Her pendant shone brighter.

  The scavenger reacted by smothering Elinor with its body. She could no longer see and struggled to breathe. Claws gripped her shoulders and she was thrust farther into the lair, away from the opening. She dropped into a smaller chamber attached to the main one by a narrow tunnel. Elinor landed with her face squished against the side. The sound of her throbbing heart made it difficult to hear what was happening above.

  An aurora-hunter stuck its mandibles through the opening, clicking and whining. The scavenger hissed. Its lone eye narrowed, and it scampered forward, taking a swinging blow with one of its gangly arms. The aurora-hunter squealed. It drew back. Another shoved its pointy head into the burrow and received the same thumping shock. It too retreated. Agitated screeching followed. There was an intense exchange between the two and then they hurried away, squawking as they moved deeper into Gargan Mount.

  Elinor strained to listen. Vibrations traveling through the ground lessened as the aurora-hunters gained distance. She wondered what the scavenger was waiting for. With the countless mistakes she had made in life, she became annoyed by her inability to get death right. Elinor’s racing mind and negative thoughts further diminished her self-worth. Her critical inner voice was on overdrive, tearing her apart from inside, and enhancing guilt that stemmed from her father’s death. Her pendant dimmed. The algae quieted. Elinor refocused on her current situation when she heard the scavenger clawing through the tunnel toward her. When it arrived, she was rolled onto her back. Finally, she thought, peace.

  But instead of consuming her, the scavenger tapped a curved claw against her pendant. It repeated the effort. Elinor was repulsed when it licked her face several times. Slime dripped from her ears and trickled down her neck. The scavenger maneuvered Elinor so her head was tilted back. It raised an arm above her mouth and made a small incision across the other with one of its serrated claws. Purple blood dripped from its forearm. Elinor felt a warm ooze trickle down her throat. Then the scavenger moved away.

  Using its arms for support, it kicked out with its legs, smashing the side of its burrow to make an opening. Pummeled rock crumbled under its powerful thrusts. The scavenger cleared debris from the hole it had created and returned to Elinor. She was raised off the grimy earth with her back gently placed against the scavenger’s chest. It sat behind her like a mother cradling a child, rocking her back and forth.

  Shocked by its unusual behavior, Elinor lay in the scavenger’s arms. The rocking motion was intended to facilitate circulation of its blood through Elinor’s body. Numbness began to fade from her hands and feet. She wiggled her fingers and scrunched her toes. She was tenderly positioned against the wall. Still unable to move her eyes, she glimpsed the scavenger as it disappeared back into the tunnel.

  Elinor regained use of the muscles in her neck and swiveled her head, eyeing the opening. She needed to reach it before the scavenger returned. Still partially immobile, Elinor struggled off the wall, using one arm to pull herself across the ground. It was a slow process. Her hand reached the opening and she gripped the edge to pull herself the remainder of the way. Out of breath and weak, hovering at the opening, she heard the scavenger’s shell scraping against the tunnel. Her optimism faded with its speedy return. Elinor fumbled for her polearm. But with little dexterity in her fingers she was unable to grasp it. Resigned to her fate, she rolled to face the beast.

  Elinor saw her satchel that had been left behind when she was dragged from the outpost dangling from its filthy hand. With a subtle grunt it was tossed at her feet. The attentive scavenger chose to remain in the tunnel, away from Elinor, with its lone eye staring intently at her.

  Elinor was highly unnerved. Throughout her life everything had fallen into place as expected: her people’s fight against the darkness; their need to keep fire from being extinguished; her struggle to survive; the admiration and love she possessed for her father. But the scavenger’s actions were foreign to her. An abomination of darkness helping her went against its nature. It had been designed for a single purpose and seemingly was choosing to deviate from that path willingly. What had changed? Elinor pondered. She quickly concluded none of it mattered. She was regaining use of her body and happy to be alive. Thoughts of giving up had vanished. Elinor realized she had been given a gift by being pulled into the scavenger’s lair. The ordeal had somehow manifested into a new lease on life. And she intended to use it. With full use of her body having returned, Elinor shouldered her satchel, and slipped through the opening. She heard a faint whimper as she dropped out of sight.

  With little light to guide her, Elinor followed the contour of an underground river that had run dry long ago. Shells crunched underfoot. While keeping an eye out for danger, sweeping her head left to right, up and down, she was hypnotized by strange writing etched overhead and along the tunnel’s sides. Images of serpentine creatures she suspected to be gargans were intermixed with complex glyphs.

  Elinor stopped when she felt faint. She had been ignoring her growling stomach as to put distance between her and the scavenger. Whatever transformation it had gone through may have been fleeting, and Elinor had no wish to push her luck by lingering. To stifle her hunger, she plucked algae from the wall, exposing the likeness of one of her tribespeople, made evident by the image’s large eyes and polearm weapon. He was standing with others in a circle. Some depictions she recognized. Others she didn’t. A picture of a man adorned in a red cape holding a weapon like hers stood out. The similarity was undeniable to the ones she had seen in the white corridor from her dream. In confusion Elinor scrunched her nose, contemplating how something she dreamt could exist elsewhere, especially underground, and by the look of the faded paint, very old. Nothing made sense anymore: the sudden presence of an ancient one; her dream; the scavenger’s actions; the paintings. She had been born into a cruel and unrelenting world that was rapidly being turned upside down.

  Deep in contemplation, Elinor plowed another mouthful while continuing to peel algae from the wall. A broader image became clearer. In all, there were six standing in a circle: a gargan with wings spread wide; one of her tribespeople holding an ax high above its head; the man that she assumed was a Lancian; a lemfin, an ice master from the north that was identifiable by its webbed h
ands and icicle weapon; someone from an unknown tribe holding a crossbow; and the last one was a mystery. Standing to the side was an ancient one that appeared to be observing the gathering. Within the circle, a black tree was engulfed by flames. Inside the burning trunk a cloaked entity was kneeling, bound by restraints. Overhead, a thunderbolt was depicted, and sinister eyes concealed by dark mist leered from above.

  Elinor stepped back to get a broader view. The scene was utter gibberish. She noticed that her palms were sweating and the hair on the back of her neck was standing on end. A tingle rippled through her body while a nauseous feeling crept up her stomach, forming a nervous lump in her throat. Elinor tried to swallow but her mouth was dry. She reached for her water flask, then stopped midway. She was not frustrated by her struggle to decipher the paintings as she had originally thought, but realized too late that she was no longer alone. The faint sound of approaching aurora-hunters echoed through the cavern.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Deep within the Black Knolls of Gargan Mount a tar pit gurgled. Mauve bubbles rose to the surface then burst, releasing a rank secretion that pooled on surrounding rock. Low in the sky a vortex formed. The whirlwind spun slowly at first, picking up speed with each rotation. Thunder roared and the ground shook, creating vibrations that rippled across the tar. From within the vortex came a rousing blast, followed by the release of thirteen human heads, one liver, the heart of a child, and blood that had been drained from the headless corpses. Once the offering was complete, a florid energy wave rocketed down and struck the secretion, pulverizing the rock slab it had collected on. Intense bands of lightning dissipated, along with the vortex. Dust settled.

  The profile of a kneeling being emerged. It had an enlarged head with protruding veins and a hairless body. Looking into its solid black eyes was like gazing at the soul of nothingness. Pointy ears twitched while the being assessed its surroundings. It stood erect. Muscles bulged and it looked skyward.