Blood and Shadows (The Saga of the Seven Stars)

by Dayne Edmondson

  Dawyn became a whirlwind of steel. Everywhere he stepped blood was spilled. The death cries of assassins and thieves filled the air. Dawyn was as deadly as if a giant maelstrom of debris like Alivia had once wielded had landed in the center of the room. But still the assassins and thieves fought on, futilely hoping to land a blow on the man who seemed to move faster than the eye could follow.

  At last the area around Dawyn was clear of the living. The other assassins and thieves, what remained of them anyway, had begun to flee toward the entrance to the inn, where Favio and Anwyn waited. He looked around for Lord Garik or the veiled assassin, but neither was on the stage. Only Nikki stood there, eyes glowing white, staring at something only she could see. Concerned, Dawyn looked around, searching for the distinctive long hair of Lord Garik or the veil of the woman.

  He felt a presence behind him and spun, just in time to catch the slowed blades of the veiled assassin on his own.

  The woman wasted no time on surprise at his quick parry of her strike. She flowed into another strike, disengaging and stabbing high, near his neck, with the first blade. The second jabbed low, toward his thigh. Dawyn stepped backward, barely catching the two blades on his own.

  Again and again the two traded blows. Dawyn would dodge the woman’s thrusts, while she would become transparent and cause his blades to slide through her. When the woman transformed into mist, she would soon reappear behind him or to the side of him, testing his defenses, looking for a weak spot. Dawyn felt his defenses failing and his energy waning from her constantly spinning around him, the speed at which she transitioned from solid form to mist and back disorienting him. The dilation field he projected took mental energy, which fighting taxed further. He hoped he could hold the field long enough to defeat her.

  ***

  While Dawyn fought, Alivia faced off against Nikki. The two women sparred against one another from across the room, though to the uninitiated it would have appeared as though they were having a staring contest. In reality, the two women were not seeing each other. Their minds were expanded all around them, touching matter and energy within the room, manipulating it and countering the manipulation of the other mage. Nikki began to heat the air around Dawyn, and Alivia countered by drawing the heat away, causing it to cool. Nikki, seeing an opening, lanced out with a spear of solidified air, seeking to impale Alivia. Alivia saw the molecules of air forming into that object and countered with a shield composed of solid air, which the spear crashed against.

  Alivia could tell that Nikki was weakened from her exploits earlier in the day, but Alivia was weakened from conjuring the wall of fire moments earlier. Despite her exhaustion, she drew upon every ounce of her energy, leaving only a small amount of life force within her body to keep her breathing. Alivia felt more in tune with the world around her than she ever had before. It was as if she could see every cell in the human body, affect the tiniest of blood cells or mend once-broken bones. She could sense every grain of wood in the floor and every crack in the walls. She could see the particles that drifted within the very air she breathed. She had heard stories of mages that had reached such a level of awareness, and now she understood the beauty of it. Compared to this experience, living in a body with only five senses was drab and boring. What were five ordinary senses compared to intimate knowledge of the matter and energy that existed all around her? It was no wonder mages had died from remaining in such a state for too long. Their hearts had stopped when they forgot to breath.

  Alivia recalled a lesson one of her instructors at the Tower had given once. He had spoken of lightning, and how it was formed. He said that to control lightning was to take one's own life in one's hands. To create lightning, one had to create what was called an “electrical field” above the target area. This electrical field could be created by a collision of liquid and ice particles. Once the electrical field was created, it would seek to be discharged. The ground, her professor had explained, was the perfect discharge location, though metal objects would also attract lightning, as evidenced by how the Tower was often struck. Lightning would seek the highest object that was able to discharge the energy built up. Anything between the cloud of colliding particles and the ground would be struck with tremendous force by a nearly unimaginable amount of energy.

  In her heightened state of awareness, Alivia saw the particles of moisture in the air. She concentrated on the patch of particles above Nikki’s head. Quickly she began to move them, rubbing them against one another. Faster and faster she rubbed, until the particles began to glow with light. She included more particles, drawing them into the cloud of colliding particles. She wasn’t sure it was working, but suddenly a crack rent the air and the entire inn was lit by a blinding light.

  ***

  Dawyn was in the midst of fighting the woman, who had again turned to mist and seemed to be trying to slip behind him, when he saw what could only be described as lightning flashing from the ceiling into the ground through Nikki. The lightning connected with the ground, and Dawyn swore he could see Nikki’s bones through her flesh as her entire body shook from the lightning coursing through her. On and on the lightning went, burning her from the inside out. Her hair began to smoke, her shoes smoldered and her dress caught fire. At last the light ended, and what remained of Nikki, a blackened corpse, dropped to the floor. Alivia had done it; she had slain the enemy mage.

  In Dawyn’s moment of distraction the woman struck, kicking him in the back and causing him to lose his balance. He stumbled forward and she was there, forming from mist, daggers darting toward him. But then something happened. The woman’s eyes grew very wide and she diverted the blades into the wooden floor, causing her to kneel. “Dawyn?” The word came out in a whisper, barely audible through the veil. “Dawyn is that you?” The woman sounded confused, but Dawyn thought he knew that voice from somewhere.

  “Who are you?” he asked warily, taking a step back and prepared for deceit. Why hadn't she struck when he was distracted? She could have gutted him, but she hadn't.

  The woman reached up and lowered her hood, revealing dark brown hair that ran down to her shoulders, tied back in a ponytail. Then she reached and lowered the veil. The face that it revealed was that of his sister, Bridgette. Dawyn felt as though his whole world had just been turned upside down, and that he had been kicked brutally in the stomach. He couldn’t catch his breath. All these years he had believed his sister lost, taken away from him in the dead of night, only to now find her here, fighting him, a deadly assassin of unmatched prowess.

  “Bridgette,” Dawyn croaked, dropping his blades. “How is this possible? I thought…I thought you were dead, long ago. Dead and buried I thought. How did you survive?”

  “I don’t quite remember,” Bridgette replied, sheathing her daggers. She held her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. “I only just remembered you. It’s as if I’m walking through a fog of memories and each moment something new comes back to me. I remember our mother and father and Jacob. I remember Ralph, our dog. I don’t know why I forgot. It’s strange.”

  “That doesn’t matter now,” Dawyn said, stepping toward her. “What matters is that we’ve found one another. Come away with me, Bridgette. We will be brother and sister once again, family. You can leave this life.”

  Bridgette’s face took on a pained expression. “I want to say yes but,” she sounded strained and held a hand to to the side of her head. “It’s as if something is in the back of my mind, forcing me to fight - to want to attack you.” She grunted. “I’m trying to hold the urge back but it’s becoming too powerful. Dawyn, you must run.”

  “No, I’m not leaving you Bridgette. Not when I’ve just…”

  Dawyn noticed movement, behind Bridgette. A woman, with midnight black hair, was moving silently behind Bridgette. The woman raised her dagger as if to strike Bridgette from behind. Without thought, Dawyn drew upon the last of his energy to create a time dilation field, picked up his blades and shoved Bridgette aside, slamming his blade into the
assailant's abdomen, causing her to open her eyes in shock. The woman fell backward off of Dawyn’s blade and slumped to the ground. A man ran up to her, but made no move against Dawyn. Dismissing the woman from his thoughts, he turned back to Bridgette.

  “You saved me,” Bridgette said, eying the dying woman. “Thank you.” She clutched at her head again as if in pain. “Aaaaaah, what is happening to me?”

  “Bridgette, what’s wrong?”

  “I...must go,” she gasped. “Before I try to hurt you again.”

  “No, please Bridgette, don’t go,” Dawyn pleaded. “I am afraid I will never see you again.”

  “I’m sorry,” Bridgette said, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’ll try to find you again one day, brother.” With that she spun and fled toward the kitchens, seeking an exit from the inn. Dawyn let her go, stunned.

  Turning, he found Anwyn, Favio and Alivia walking toward him. Anwyn was covered in blood, having transformed into a beast to fight, though she now wore a cloak to cover her otherwise naked form. Favio had several shallow cuts on his face and a rather nasty-looking cut on his arm, but otherwise seemed none the worse for wear. Alivia had dark bags under her eyes and looked ready to collapse. She leaned on Favio as they walked.

  “What happened there?” Anwyn said. “Why did that assassin just flee from you?”

  “She’s my sister,” Dawyn replied. Seeing the stunned look on the faces of his companions he said, “I know, for I felt the same way. But now we must find Lord Garik, or this will have all been for naught. Anwyn, can you change into a dog or some other animal that can track by smell and find Lord Garik?”

  Anwyn looked around before nodding. “Yes, I should be able to.” A moment later she let the cloak fall to the floor and became a wolf. She moved to the stage where Lord Garik had been standing when they entered the room. She sniffed around for a moment before raising her head, howling, and racing toward the kitchens. The other three followed her.

  Out of the kitchens and into the rear yard of the inn the companions went. Dawyn had hoped Bridgette was out here, but he did not see her. Onward Anwyn ran, down a nearby alleyway at ferocious speed. They had almost lost sight of her when Dawyn heard a fierce growl and a moment later the surprised shout of a man.

  Rounding the corner, Dawyn caught sight of Lord Garik. Anwyn had struck at the back of his ankle, dragging him to the ground, though Lord Garik had slashed out with his dagger to prevent her from going in for the kill. He stumbled to his feet, sweeping again with his dagger to clear the space around him. He noticed Dawyn and the others.

  “So, we meet face-to-face at last, Commander Darklance. I must admit I am surprised you are alive. Did Bridgette not engage you?”

  Dawyn ignored the question, striding forward to stand several feet from him. Anwyn stepped back as he passed her. “Do you know who I am? Do you remember me?”

  A quizzical look flashed across Lord Garik's face. “I don't believe I do. Are you going to tell me where I should remember you from?”

  “Twenty five years ago,” Dawyn began, his voice angry, “you came into the home I was living in and murdered my hosts. You stole my sister away in the dark of the night and I never saw her again. Do you remember now?”

  Lord Garik squinted at him in the poor light. “Ah, yes, you were Bridgette's brother, weren't you? That explains why she spared your life. You have quite the extraordinary sister, you know.” He chuckled. “The very first night I had her, each of my men took a turn with her. All the while she begged for us to stop. Then we whipped her until not an inch of her back was unbroken, and left her hanging upside down.

  I expected she would be dead in the morning, but to my surprise she was not. Her wounds had all healed, as if we had never struck a blow on her body. I had intended to just kill her outright, but after seeing that, I was intrigued. I tested her more, slicing her wrists and cutting off her nipples. Oh, the screams she made as I did this were like music to my ears. But as I watched, her nipples re-grew and her wrists healed, after perhaps an hour.

  After that, I had her whipped every day, from sun up to sun down. She resisted at first, but I broke her mind and made her my devoted servant. She has spent the last twenty-five years serving me, and hasn't aged a day. And now I will destroy her brother, removing any further attachment she has to anyone in this world.”

  Dawyn, who had been listening during Lord Garik's speech, was silent for a moment, clenching his fists and looking down at the ground. At last he raised his head. “Before now, it wasn't personal. I wanted to bring you to justice for what you were doing to the kingdom and because it was my duty. But now, now it's personal. Garik, for your crimes against my sister I sentence you to death.”

  Without further words, Dawyn advanced. He reached the man, who had drawn two short swords from his belt and stood in a battle stance. The two clashed swords, testing their skills. Lord Garik was good, moving from stance to stance at a pace Dawyn could scarce match. His time dilation ability exhausted, Dawyn was forced to match Lord Garik in real time.

  Lord Garik darted his blade in from the right, while slashing low with his left blade. Dawyn parried the first, but the second sliced into his thigh before he could prevent it. He staggered backward, dropping one of his blades and placing a hand on the wound. With the other blade, he swept out to keep Lord Garik at bay.

  “Ah, so the king's champion can bleed,” Lord Garik taunted. “Oh, did I forget to mention that all those times while I was breaking your sister she screamed? She screamed one name, 'Dawyn'. But you never came.”

  Rage boiled up in Dawyn’s mind and he forgot the pain in his leg. Grabbing his fallen sword from the ground, he roared in fury and advanced. Lord Garik's eyes opened wide as again and again Dawyn struck at Lord Garik, driving him backward and causing his defense to falter. At last a wild strike missed the blade and struck at Lord Garik’s hand, taking it off at the wrist. The man screamed in agony and fell to his knees.

  Dawyn prepared his blades to deliver a death strike to the man. This man, who had shed so much innocent blood, including his sister's, and caused such destruction, deserved only death. As he raised his blades, a horse came barreling out of the cross alley and stopped between Dawyn and Garik, forcing Dawyn to step back. Atop the horse, to Dawyn's disbelief, was Bridgette. She reached down, took Lord Garik’s remaining hand, and helped him aboard the horse. Before Dawyn could react, exhausted as he was, she had kicked the horse into motion and the two raced down the alleyway, free of pursuit.

  Dawyn considered shouting for Alivia to try and stop them or for Anwyn to track them, but knew it would be futile. Both of the women were beyond exhausted and doing anything further would risk killing them. Dawyn fell to his knees in exhaustion and began to cry. He cried for the loss of so many; the rangers and innocent citizens whom he had never known the names of. He cried that it was finally over; that Lord Garik, while still alive, was no longer in a position to return to the level of power and influence he had previously enjoyed. But more than anything he cried for his sister, a woman he had found and lost again, all in the same night. Old wounds that Dawyn had thought healed broke open and the heartache he felt when he lost his sister twenty-five years earlier poured in. Tears flowed down his cheeks like a dam being burst open.

  A hand on his shoulder calmed him for a moment and he looked up. Standing next to him was Anwyn, with a look of concern on her face. She knelt beside him and, returning the earlier favor, took his head in her hands and placed it on her chest. They spoke no words; none needed to be spoken. Dawyn cried while Anwyn held him tight.

  Chapter 25: A Goodbye

  Boris lay on the floor of the Five Daggers inn, located in the coastal city of Mara Damare, blood leaking from a wound in his right thigh caused by a throwing knife, though he had rigged a makeshift tourniquet to stem the tide of blood to nothing more than a trickle. All around him lay a scene of carnage. The smell of death, which included blood, fecal matter and urine was dominated by the smell of burning flesh and hu
ng like a pall in the air as he looked around. He had been lucky to only receive this wound and fall to the floor. Many others had not been so lucky.

  At Boris’ side lay the corpse of Veronica, a result of a failed assassination attempt. Poor woman, she had made the mistake of attempting to attack the veiled assassin (Bridgette, Boris corrected himself, for he had heard the Shadow Watch Guard say her name in the melee) during her fight with Dawyn. Veronica had seen the opportunity to strike and, never one to turn down an opportunity, moved forward to strike at Bridgette from behind. However, she had not anticipated that Bridgette’s opponent would shove Bridgette out of the way at remarkable speed and slam his sword blade first into Veronica’s abdomen. Who would have thought that Bridgette’s opponent would protect her? Though Boris had not been able to see her, he imagined the surprised look that must have been on her face. Boris had run up to her as she collapsed to the floor and dragged her back to where he had been lying, and then he proceeded to collapse beside her.

  Boris had cradled Veronica in his arms as she bled out. He had kissed her on the lips and told her everything was going to be all right. The lies were hard to speak, but when speaking to a dying person the truth was often inappropriate. Veronica had whispered the words “I love you” to Boris, the one time he ever heard them from her, before falling limp in his arms, her lovely brown eyes staring at nothing. Veronica Storm was gone.

  After the battle in the inn ended, Boris had lain very still as the combatants left. He had seen Bridgette flee after having words with Dawyn, while the man and his three companions left in a hurry – chasing someone. Likely they were after Bridgette and Lord Garik.