by T G W Becker
Fighting her way along the second floor corridor, she twisted her blades left and right as she cut down shadow after shadow. The clatter of mage creatures falling to the floor became almost musical as she made her way to, what she hoped, was the exit.
“Third floor; black corridor. Second floor; black corridor. Have these people never heard of style?” she muttered to herself as she dodged a swinging blow. Towards the end of this corridor however, she saw stairs. One more floor to go!
Lashing out at another shadow, she felled the enchanted demon with a single swift flick of her blades. Reaching the stairs, she kept up her pace and dashed up them. What felt like an eternity passed before she found level ground again and a wider, more elaborate corridor with a larger staircase at the end.
“That must be it,” and she ran again, desperate to get to the outside world. She climbed, and then noticed the walls changed from a black with red streaks, to black with grey streaks. The colour was missing.
. . .
She slowed her pace as she neared the top, hearing voices coming from outside; familiar voices. Rossa reached the doorway and looked out into the world, an oddly colourless and grey world. Taking in the strange setting that welcomed her imprisonment, she saw her friends, Nethalie and Drake, chained to the side of a dome. What she saw next was even more bizarre: herself, or rather a colourless version of herself, standing not ten paces in front of the pair.
What in E’zaras name?! Her mind reeled, staring at the back of herself. At least I know what my back looks like now. Everything from the clothes, the way the hair was swept, to the height were identical. The voice however, was most definitely not her own.
Surely that would have given it away, even if they didn’t notice the lack of brilliance, Rossa humphed.
She crept to one side of the opening and watched for a moment. Listening to what was being said and gauging her next move. She had to free her friends, but she had no idea if she could free her friends from this other version of herself.
“...Yes, I could see you as a shadowbird young Drake,” The other Rossa said. “Now, where should we begin?” taking a step closer to her helpless friends.
Rossa knew she would have to make her move, and fast. Reaching around onto her back, she took the Cranequin and loaded two bolts, making sure to keep another two in her hand, ready to load as soon as the first were fired. She stood and aimed at the Rossa that was not her and fired both bolts, reloading before checking if they hit the target. The cry of surprise told her they had.
“Who dares to...? You!?” a deep voice questioned why and where.
Cocking the spring back with the pin, Rossa locked up and beamed. “Who else?” then she fired off the other two bolts, breaking into a run as they left the Cranequin.
The bolts hit home with a resounding thump and the other Rossa fell to the floor, the haze around her disappearing. One bolt had gone right between the eyes, the other in the centre of the chest. Rossa raced passed the fallen body beaming at her friends.
“You can be honest. You really missed me didn’t you?” she pulled a pin from her pocket and set to work on the locks of the chains above Nethalie’s head.
Within a few short moments Nethalie and Drake were free. Drake rushed over to the fallen Oriomus-Rossa and grabbed Zeek’s Ecliptica core and the piece.
“Your timing could not have been any better young Rossa,” Zeek said, relief filling his voice. “It appears you caught him off guard with those bolts. However, the colour is still drained; even now he is recovering. We must flee this place, and quickly. I can not say how long we may have”
Drake quickly returned the Ecliptica pieces to within his robe. As he stood, the bolt that had been sticking out of the Oriomus-Rossa’s chest turned into dust and blew away.
“Time to leave!” Drake yelled and turned to his friends, not wanting to wait around any longer than they needed.
~ 31 ~
The trekking ponies were quickly loosed from where they had been left. The three friends mounted as fast as they could and then headed in what they hoped was the direction of Isimir and the border. The chorus of voices behind them, which had began to echo from the temple, began to fade until the only sounds were the crushing of crisp dry leaves beneath their feet and the laboured breathing that escaped the tired lungs of their ponies.
Once they had checked that they were not in any immediate danger, they slowed the ponies to a steady trot to give them a bit of a rest. Making best haste for the border which they had all crossed not one week before, they headed for what they all hoped would be safety.
“How is leaving the realm going to make us any safer? Surely that Psimere creature will just follow us until it gets what it wants!” Rossa asked.
“The most we can do for now is head towards the Elves in Re’ashar. They may be able to provide some protection, or at least a safe place to recover and regroup.” Zeek’s leadership was welcome after the panic of finding Oriomous alive in his new form.
Rossa took this time of travelling to explain where she had been to the others. Her escape from the room, the shadow-mages and battling out of the lower levels of the temple.
“We must have been so close to you when we were in there. We passed right by some of the private rooms. Not to mention creeping through that large hall where The Channeller and his group were doing some strange ritual.” Drake said to Rossa, looking across to her.
“All I really remember is going off one morning to look for breakfast. Then a whole lot of really strange dreams in which we were all together and I found a hold; then the temple, only I wasn’t really there for any of it.”
“Sounds about the most of it. There must have been some sort of two way connection going on that let you see what Oriomus was up to. We had no idea that it wasn’t you; everything just went at such a rush. It was pretty much a perfect copy of you, with the memories and attitudes. Mind you, I at least have an excuse of only having known the real you for a little more than a day, but I’d put good leven on that it was still you after that,” Drake began.
“Looking back now, especially since we have the real you back, I think there were a few little things that might have given a clue,” Nethalie said as she bobbed along in the middle of the trio.
“Let me guess, my outstanding personality?” she beamed.
“Your smile is just that much more believable,” Nethalie smiled.
“I was going to say this one’s more of an annoyance,” Drake joked, happy that they were together and heading away from the Oriomus-Rossa.
“You want to trade back do you?” Rossa winked.
“You may be a little over enthusiastic, but I think I’d much rather have the real Rossa,” he smiled at her, “besides, you’re not bent on turning Neth into a slave and me into a bird. So that works in your favour,” Drake shrugged.
After a full two day’s ride the ponies were exhausted. The riders were faring little better. A full day in the saddle, with a few breaks to rest before another fast trot would give sores to even the most experienced riders.
“We need to give the ponies a rest. The poor things are going to collapse if we push on much further,” Nethalie had already hopped off and was walking, reins in hand.
“It would be best to take a rest and recover. It seems that we have a window of opportunity to do so. There has been no sign of pursuit thus far,” Zeek urged them all to take a break.
A short ride up the track and they stumbled across a small spring of fresh water. They all drank thirstily, making sure the ponies were left straight to the spring and the letting them graze.
“Get some rest. I’ll take first watch. A quick couple of hours and then we should be on our way again,” Drake said, looking about the area. “The forest is dense here so we should get a good bit of protection from any watchful eyes.”
There was no argument. Rossa and Nethalie unrolled their blankets and were sleeping within moments of closing their eyes.
“I am impressed youngling. You
have already discovered that magic can be used to heal and recover the body at a faster rate than ordinary beings. It seems that in some cases my tutelage will not be as necessary.” Zeek and Drake had not talked mentor to pupil for some time. It was nice to return to the familiar relationship.
“It was only by accident. I was considering whether I could heal my blister from the reins. Once I worked out that I could channel magic inwards as well as outwards, all the rest just seemed to fall into place.” Drake was pleased that he had impressed his friend, and pleased also that they had a moment to talk rather than plan an escape.
“Perhaps it would also be wise to take this time to listen to the Whispers upon the flow. There may be some mention of our recent dealing with Oriomus already.”
Drake closed his eyes and let his mind float, listening for mention of Oriomus, Zeek or himself.
“Oriomussss....livessss.....Psimerrreee...Ecliptica...ca...ca...Found,” came the Whispers.
“This is not good” Drake thought as he opened his eyes.
. . .
After a few hours of rest, Drake roused the others from their sleep. They protested greatly at first, until the haze of sleep had worn off and they remembered the earlier events. Drake was eager to begin riding again and head towards the border.
“Narrgh,” Drake suddenly grabbed his head as a dull pain throbbed for a second. It felt like he had been stung by a bulgrub beetle right behind his right ear. “What the...”
“Drake, Zeek. Heed my call and accept my people’s warnings. The Psimere you fear is a fragment of the being once named Oriomus. It will stop at nothing to gain access to the power of the Ecliptica and once again plague this fair world with darkness and evil. My people can offer you temporary safe harbour at Re’ashar. Make haste to the border. Continue in the direction you have chosen, your path is true. My best and strongest magicians shall meet you there.” Then, just as quickly as it had started, the voice was gone and a dull throb remained in Drake’s head.
“That was Queen Shan’eu. I would remember that voice and that feeling of her presence no matter what form I am in.” Zeek was relieved to say the least.
“Nice of her to leave me with a throbbing head,” Drake winced.
“The pain will pass. At this distance the amount of magic required to send a message is great. The pain is simply a side effect of that power.” Zeek reassured him.
The Elves involvement meant that there was a hope of respite from the Psimere and the Shadow Mages.
“Drake?” Rossa asked, looking slightly concerned. It was then he realised that only he had heard the message.
“The Elves are meeting us at the border. Queen Shan’au is sending magicians to meet us.”
Though the message had been brief, it had at least been clear. Seek the protection of Re’ashar. Oriomus is coming.
~ 32 ~
They rode hard and they rode fast through the bleak terrain. The initial urgency seemed to return following Queen Shan’eu’s message. They pressed the ponies as hard as they dared to after such a short rest. Drake and Arthure led the way, with Rossa bringing up the rear. The landscape was becoming greener as they went. At first just one tree here and there, but now more and more could be seen.
“Can you hear something?” Nethalie suddenly asked the others moving up alongside Drake.
Drake looked at her as Rossa came up along his other side.
“Horses. It must be horses. Could it be the Elves?
“Elves do not believe in using other creatures as beasts of burden. They would not travel by horse. Only on foot, though they can run almost as quickly,” Zeek’s knowledge was useful, but now rather worrying.
“It must be them. The mages have found us,” Nethalie gasped.
Drake quickly gathered magic, in his rush he took all the magic from a dozen surrounding trees, changing them from green to grey.
“Use caution youngling,” Zeek warned, although aware of Drakes intention.
Drake focused his mind and sent his message: “Elves of Queen Shan’eu. Are you close? We have mages on horseback following us. We are near the border.”
Within moments a reply came, “Zeek and youngling Drake. We are close. Press on with haste. Our scout has seen your disruption in the flow. Head as you are, we are not far.”
“The Elves are close. We need to ride, and fast.” Drake told the others giving Arthure a flick to the flank and breaking into a gallop. Rossa and Nethalie were close on his heels.
Branches stung his face as they whipped past. Still they rode on. The horses behind were not gaining any ground. The ponies were smaller and quicker through the undergrowth which was getting thicker and thicker, but they were panting hard.
“I’m not sure how much further we can get the ponies through this,” Nethalie called out to Drake as another branch stung his cheek.
“How close are we to the Elves?” Rossa called from the back.
As if hearing her very words a message came to all of them.
“You are almost at the border. We can hear you. If your mounts are slowing your progress, dismount and run. We will protect you once we meet. The distance from the temple will also diminish any ability Oriomus may have to draw upon greater power. Hurry.”
“You heard the Elf. On foot we go. Grab only what you need and then send the ponies off on their own. They’ll find their way back to Marik.”
Drake dismounted and grabbed his pack from the saddle, slinging it across his back. He looked over his shoulder to make sure the others had done the same.
“Thank you Arthure,” he said, stroking the pony’s forehead. Then he gave him a sharp hand to the flank and shouted, “off you go, back to Marik.”
“Now we run,” he said and began running through the undergrowth, Nethalie and Rossa with him.
. . .
The forest clearing was a stone’s throw from the safety they all so desperately needed. Drake ran ahead, his pack swinging from side to side as he ran. Close on his heel was Nethalie and then Rossa a good few steps behind.
“Come on, come on!” Drake urged, “it’s not far now to the edge of the forest and the elves. It won’t be able to make it through the protective spells they have in place.”
Then, it was too late.
The Oriomus Psimere had caught up to them, it had found them. He had found them. A sudden gush of prickling hot air spun around the group, cutting off their path. The colour was taken instantly from the world, leaving nothing but grey and black.
“You did not think you could escape so easily did you...Zeek?” The chilling voice addressed Zeek directly. “I knew the boy had your core the very first time we met. It seemed efficient to let him seek out your shattered Ecliptica and take on all that adventuring. He has such a strong spirit.”
A white hot ball of fire shot across the middle of the group, barely missing Rossa, stopping all three in their tracks.
“Someone’s not a very friendly shadow today is he?” she jested, yet the panic made her voice thin.
Drake drew his twin blades from their sheathes on his back and gripped them loosely, ready to attack in any direction. Nethalie drew her short sword, her bow no use in these close quarters; Rossa already had her assassin knives in hand. They grouped together, back to back to make sure all sides could be seen.
“Steel will be of little threat to him,” Zeek said, “magic is our only defence here.”
“I still like to know I have a back up,” Drake replied as he returned one blade to it sheath, and then drew upon the magic store of the Jaden handle of the other. “Any suggestion on a spell?”
“Until we know what form he has taken, let us not waste any magic.”
The Psimere suddenly shot across the group, knocking Drake to the floor and sending Nethalie reeling. She swung her blade as it passed, but caught nothing but air. Rossa, still stunned by the last blow, was slowly getting to her feet.
“Rossa, stay down!” Drake shouted above the noise of the howling winds. The Bluecap st
umbled one step forward, and then the Psimere rushed by her again, knocking her sideways.
“Rossa!” Nethalie screamed as her friend stumbled again. She looked up at Nethalie, her face streaked with dirt and tears. Nethalie began to run across to her, reaching out her hand.
A huge shadow then appeared behind Nethalie, towering over her. A deep chuckle rang out, drowning out all other sound.
“E’fri!” Drake shouted as he released a ball of fire towards the shadow, but it was all too late. With an inhuman speed, an arm reached down and plucked Nethalie from the ground as if she were a mere twig. She screamed but for a second, her arms reaching out to Rossa, only a few strides away. Then, just as quickly as it all began, the wind stopped, the colour returned and the ball of fire Drake had released struck a nearby tree.
Rossa and Drake stood, alone, in the clearing. Before them, lay the bow and pack of Nethalie. The half-elf however, was nowhere to be seen.
“Neth...?” Rossa spoke, almost silently. Drake made his way to her side, only vaguely aware of the band of Elves emerging from the distant tree line. Spells were being cast all around them.
“NO!” Rossa cried.
To be continued...
(The story continues in Book 2 of the Shadows of the Night)
Drakes Dictionary
BlueCap – A short creature, usually mistaken for being a much smaller fairy that are usually found in abandoned mines.
Bulgrub Beetle – A small insect, similar to a mosquito. About the size of a thumbnail