Reece measured her height as she drew closer, noting she was taller than that of the silent one, who had now stepped aside to let her pass. Her thick, titian hair was lustrous and vibrant, its locks nestled high on her crown. A long, fine, ivory-silk gown—embellished with embroidered gold and silver—fell loose to the ground, covering her footwear. It flowed in perfect harmony with her every move, as though she commanded it—its paleness blending with that of her skin. A thick chain of the finest gold, hung gracefully around her long neck, disappearing beneath the bodice of the gown. Her lips were neither full, nor thin, and wore their natural colour.
She stopped, within feet of him.
For a moment, his eyes dropped slightly, noting the inclination of a silver scar, below her left ear. It was the one solitary flaw that stood out among her beauty. She noticed his observation of it.
‘The one time I foolishly let down my guard,’ she began. ‘A mistake, I will never repeat. But you will meet the one who gave it to me… soon enough. I contemplated having him destroyed… for his insolence, but he was… is exceptional, as are you… Reece Molyneaux.’
He stared at her, speechless. How does she know my name?
‘It is rare to see someone like you,’ she stated, admiring his striking features. He wore his hair unusually short, its blackness contrasting with his pale, clammy skin. His cheekbones were high, and his lips full.
‘They are exquisite!’ she added, observing the uniqueness of his stunning, green eyes. Lowering her gaze, she studied him further.
Reece stepped back, perturbed by her remark; he felt vulnerable and exposed in her company. Inside he was shaking, uncontrollably.
What’s happening to me? he asked himself. I don’t under—He looked sharp, his thoughts severed by her staring down at something.
What is she doing?
As the smirk crawled across her face, it suddenly occurred to him: She’s challenging me!
Battling against his instincts, Reece shook his head, desperately trying to resist. However, the soldier inside him was urging him on—telling him to fight.
He reached down…
The sound of steel, colliding with the hard ground, reverberated throughout the crypt.
Reece grasped his scalding hand, feeling the excruciating pain that had been inflicted on him, by his dagger’s searing handle. He then flinched when the smell of burning flesh rose, attacking his heightening senses. With a burning anger rising from deep inside him, he looked up, his hostile eyes now glaring at her.
‘You knew it was there!’ he cried.
She grinned back, mocking him with her intimidation.
‘Lesson learned!’ she remarked, drawing closer. When she did so, Wareeshta moved with her, keeping near. ‘Look at your hand, Reece!’ she then stated, pointing with her chin.
He stared down, in disbelief, watching the skin repair itself, until all that remained was a faded scar. ‘Impossible! How is this…?’ He shook his head.
‘It is a reminder, each time you look at it, never to threaten me again,’ she warned. ‘Let us hope it will be your first… and last.’
‘What have you done to me?’ he said, holding out his opened hands to her. ‘Who are—’
‘What you are feeling is none of my doing, Reece,’ she continued. ‘The blame falls on Wareeshta. She merely… follows my orders.’
‘I… I don’t understand. What do you want from—’ Reece stopped dead as her eyes rested on his. His mouth fell open, seeing the likeness; it was uncanny.
She smirked, then inched towards him, allowing him a closer look—intent on playing with his emotions. ‘What do you see, Reece?’ she teased, lifting her head. ‘Do you see… her?’
He slowly drew back, his mouth gaping in horror.
‘My wife!’ he cried out, attempting to lunge forward, but failed. He tried again, but was unable. ‘If you harmed her, in any way, I will—’
‘What would you do, Reece?’ she replied, with a disparaging smile. ‘Kill me? How tremendously ambitious of you!’
Inside, a new-found strength began to surge through his body yet, somehow, he knew he was incapable of using it against her.
‘I will tell you what I want from you… in good time. As for your wife…’
He held his breath, prepared for the worst.
‘She is unharmed, and shall remain so…’
‘Unless?’ he snapped.
‘You are quite the arrogant one,’ she returned.
‘I take it, you wish to make a bargain,’ he stated.
‘Somewhat,’ she said, turning away from him.
He quickly marked Wareeshta’s close attention to her every movement, rarely taking her eyes from her. It was evident the silent one was her protector or guardian.
She then stopped and, turning her head slightly, hesitated, as though distracted. ‘Do you have any children, Reece?’ she then asked, turning her attention back to him.
The question was intrusive, and unexpected.
He declined to answer.
‘I thought not,’ she taunted, playing on his silence. ‘That is unfortunate,’ she added, tilting her head.
‘Then, why ask?’ he retorted, gritting his teeth.
From the shadows of the crypt, he then heard the distinct, low sound of someone laughing, like they were mocking him. He moved his gaze from the two women, searching for it, until the slow, menacing movement of a large figure, caught his eye. He felt uneasy, knowing he was being scrutinised by them.
Show yourself! he wanted to yell, sensing their threat.
‘Where have you been, Kara?’ she demanded.
He quickly glanced back at her. She appeared unperturbed by the hidden presence, her authoritative tone telling him, who was in command. And when she spoke, Wareeshta discreetly stepped back, suggesting she, however, was intimidated by the hidden figure, as they lingered in the shadows, contemplating their entrance.
After much deliberation, they decided to come forth.
‘Searching for more,’ they finally replied, coming into view, their voice deep and contemptuous in tone.
Reece threw a second glance as the figure revealed herself in her true glory, scrutinising her appearance on her approach. Her stride matched that of her tone—bold and impertinent. She stood, he surmised, a few inches above his own height, while towering over her Mistress, by a good foot, and dwarfing the silent one.
Dressed in an elaborate bodice of silver armour, her strong physique startled him. The baroque, grey tunic she wore beneath it, barely covered her muscular thighs. Silver guards, matching her armour, protected her lower legs and arms. She wore it like a second skin. Her long, golden hair was set in several plaits—tightly tied back—while held in place by a thick, band of gold on her forehead. Set in its centre—in line above her crooked nose—a large, black-onyx stone took pride of place.
At first glance, he thought her impressive, had it not been for her icy, grey eyes, their coldness betraying what truly lay beneath her exterior. Above her shoulder, he noted the hilt of a large sword, its markings foreign to him. He could not, however, deny his admiration for the weapon in her hand. The deep, emerald-green lance, stood taller than its owner, its long, silver tip, extending its length. The make, he could not distinguish yet its likeness was similar to glass.
‘Were you successful?’ her Mistress enquired, observing his curious eye.
Pausing in front of him, Kara surveyed his features with subdued interest, forcing him to raise his eyes slightly. He sensed the malice in her scrutiny.
‘I was not… my Lady,’ she answered, in a flat, distinct tone.
‘Then we shall not pro-long our stay,’ she replied. ‘Besides, we have begun to attract unwanted attention.’
She turned to Wareeshta. ‘We will leave as soon as he is ready. Finish it!’
Wareeshta now turned to Reece—the bleak expression on her face, alerting him.
‘Finish what?!’ he blurted.
Kara sneered at him.
&n
bsp; ‘Are you also immune from my dagger?’ he retorted, reaching for the weapon, which still remained on the ground. Though his fingers twitched, as his hand hovered over the blade, wanting to snatch it up—to draw it across her throat—he changed his mind.
Kara looked at him with contempt. He ignored her.
‘What is your intention?’ he demanded, addressing the nameless one as she turned to leave. ‘To kill me in cold blood? For what purpose?’
Kara and Wareeshta stood back as she approached him.
‘As you are so insistent,’ she said, ‘then I shall tell you, Reece. Your world is plagued by war. There are too many Kingdoms, ruled by leaders who thrive on greed and destruction. I have seen young, valiant men perish on your battlefields… and for what? To see whom should claim who’s land? To satisfy their own vanity? Such a useless waste of life—not to mention time—when their courage can be used elsewhere… with added benefits.’
Reece looked at her, baffled. ‘My world, you say? Is it not also yours?’
She paused, her eyes drifting in a moment of recollection.
‘It was… once. But I was cast out. You… like so many, share your world with another— one you are not aware of… yet.’
‘Impossible!’ he replied. ‘There is only one world.’
‘Shared with a great power,’ she informed him. ‘However, it is concealed by your ignorance. This is your first taste of it. Take a look at them, Reece!’ she said, acknowledging Kara and Wareeshta. ‘I saw the expression on your face when you saw them. Do you know who—what they are?’
Reece threw them a sideward glance, keeping his silence.
‘They, too, were discarded from their kind. It was by chance we came upon each other. Three outcasts seeking—’
‘Revenge?’ he scorned. ‘Or perhaps—absolution?’
She held his gaze a moment. ‘We three are gone beyond that.’
‘Then I assume it’s revenge.’
‘And I will have it!’ Her reply was calm and definitive.
The sense of dread that had consumed him on his journey now finally revealed itself, in the three forms standing before him. But he had yet to discover his purpose in all of it.
‘Only one ruler hails over “Five Realms” as they are referred to by some,’ she continued. ‘You will soon discover that power, Reece. It is universal; there is none like it. But their Ruler has been dead for many years, and there are those who wait, in reserved silence, for the coming of his replacement. We all wait… for our own reasons. The child, however, has not been born yet. But when he takes his first breath, I shall know it, and will seek him out.’
Reece saw her intentions unfold, between every sinister word she spoke.
‘You would murder a child?’ he said, unable to comprehend the deed.
‘I wish to gain all power over both worlds,’ she revealed. ‘I intend to unite them—as their one Ruler.’ Her eyes blazed with the thrilling notion of possessing it, in its entirety.
‘You?!’ he responded, trying to grasp her full meaning.
‘But I cannot do it alone,’ she said, her eyes resting on his, with purpose. ‘With the aid of my… loyal servants, I can, and will achieve it. Therefore, in answer to your question, Reece… I expect to destroy the “One” we all wait for… however long it takes.’
Her words resounded in his head, compelling him to ask in desperation: ‘What precisely are your plans for me?’
Chapter Thirteen
‘I have created a multitude of fine warriors from every corner of this world,’ she began. ‘Unique in their making, they are virtually impossible to destroy by your—by mortal man. I have Wareeshta to thank.’
His eyes darted towards the young, silent woman. However, knowing his fate, Wareeshta diverted her gaze from him, aware of what she would be asked to do… again.
‘Her inherited “gift” is to be commended.’
Gift? he thought, confused by her meaning.
‘Our numbers are increasing’—she paused, casting a perturbed glance at Kara—’but they are younger, and are in need of assisted and proper guidance. The one who did this,’ she said, reminding him of her scar, ‘has been their tutor for more than a decade, and seeks the help of another. I discovered him in the Far East. Strange in his ways, but a Master of swords, no less. As with him, I seek the great skills and knowledge of another—one who, also, has experience of the battlefield.’
Reece, narrowing his eyes, slowly lowered his head with suspicion.
‘Which leads me to you,’ she added.
Sensing the life, he had known, about to be cruelly snatched from him, Reece shook his head.
‘No!’ he cried, in dismay, as the reality of his situation began to seep in to his very being.
‘I will not be part of this… whatever it is.’
‘Oh, but, Reece,’ she interrupted, ‘You have no say in this matter. You see, what I want from you is… your commitment to me.’
‘My commitment is to my kingdom… and… and my wife,’ he snapped, his panic betrayed by the nervous fear in his voice. ‘I serve no-one else.’
‘I admire your passion and loyalty, Reece,’ she said. ‘But, should I return you to her, the seasons will pass swiftly. You will watch as time steals her youth, until you witness the inevitability of her passing.’
‘And I will,’ he returned. Again, he heard Kara’s snide laugh.
‘Oh no, Reece,’ she said. ‘You see… you will continue to live… for centuries to come, serving me in my kingdom.’
He stared at her, sickened by what she was saying, and yet it made no sense to him. Shaking his head in denial, he felt the stab of pain return as it shot through him.
‘Tell me, Reece… does it hurt?’
He threw his hand on the area where the puncture wounds lay, as if trying to prevent the pain from inflicting itself on him further. Kara grunted, revelling in his inner torture.
‘What have you done to me?’ he implored.
‘You have been given the gift of… immortality,’ she replied, casually, ‘until time dictates your demise. Wareeshta is not all she seems. Her conception was not one of normalcy—her mother being… the mortal one. She maintains many of her human qualities, which cannot be helped; however, it is the “gift” she inherited from her father that surpasses her mother’s weakness. You see, Reece… Wareeshta has the ability to take or give life. For one so small and slight, do not underestimate her abilities.’
His face contorted in agony as he dropped to the floor. ‘This cannot be—’
‘Say farewell to the life you once knew, Reece Molyneaux,’ she informed him. ‘From this moment on, you are bound and committed to another. Your loyalties now lie with me. However, I am not so cruel as to deny you everything from your world. You shall have your horse, and when her time comes, I will replace her with another… then another… then an—’
‘You will not decide my fate!’ he yelled, launching at her.
She flinched at his unsuccessful attack. Despite it, the attempt impressed her greatly.
‘He is not like the others, my Lady,’ said Wareeshta, in her soft voice. ‘The first time was not enough. We will need to keep a watchful eye on him.’
Reece looked from one to the other, his pain gradually increasing, spreading through his body while they casually discussed his fate.
‘My—my wife!’ he pleaded, struggling to come to terms with his heart-wrenching reality. If he could not live his life accordingly—be it to a ripe old age—to die, still in his youth, on the battlefield—or to lead a quiet one, with the woman he loved—it would be too much to bear. ‘You shall not steal my life!’ he vowed, retrieving his dagger. ‘No—it is mine to take!’
The Basiland seared into his flesh as he turned it on himself. But his efforts to drive the dagger into his heart were in vain. No strength of his own would allow it. Feeling overpowered, by the unknown force, he let the blade fall to the ground.
‘Now, do you understand?!’ she exclaimed,
glaring at him, her triumph tainted with anger. ‘You cannot destroy yourself! Only I possess the power to do so. Accept your chosen fate, Reece Molyneaux… you belong to me now!’
Silence reigned over the gloomy crypt for what seemed like an eternity.
Reece hung his head, overcome with despair. He sought to recall his wife’s face, but it seemed to fade from his memory. Distraught, he fought to hold on to her.
‘I… I can’t see her,’ he stammered. ‘I… I’m losing her.’
Repelled by the malevolence exuding from her, Reece stared at his captor—no longer seeing the beauty in her outward appearance.
‘Do not torture yourself,’ she said. ‘You will forget her… in time—the one thing you will have plenty of.’
‘If this is my fate,’ he replied, ‘I want assurance she will come to no harm.’
‘You are in no position to ask favours,’ Kara sneered, tempted to strike him.
‘I think it a fair bargain,’ he persisted to the nameless one, desperate.
She held him in suspense, contemplating his plea.
‘Agreed,’ she replied, holding his gaze. ‘A life for a life!’
Though he felt some solace in her agreement, his heart sank, leaving him in deathly silence.
Suddenly she reached out, placing her cold, slender hand on his brow. He tried to recoil, but fell to his knees as she grounded him with her touch.
‘What are you doing?’ he said, ‘I… I thought we agreed!’
Tilting her head, she smiled. ‘Merely a precaution,’ she said. ‘I need to make certain you do not remember all I have just told you. I cannot abide traitors.’
He frowned, before a sharp intake of breath took hold of him. Feeling the pressure from her cold fingertips, the details of her plans slowly dissolved from his mind. Satisfied, she drew back, removing her hand. His head spun in a drunken stupor as he struggled to stand.
‘Do what you must, Wareeshta,’ she instructed, finally taking her leave. ‘When he is ready, bring him to the castle.’
Beyond the Darkness Page 11