by J. M. Topp
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The Dark Soul
THE BEAST’S CHEST rose and fell like the draft of wind blowing through the cavern. He lay over a pile of bodies of Keepers littering the wet ground beneath him. Somewhere further down the mountain, water was rushing. Its watery echoes surrounded him. Only pitch black resided all around him. A faint ray of light burst through the rocks, but he couldn’t tell where.Without moving his head, he looked down at his legs. The hoofed, black muscle-laden lower limbs rested on bodies of dead Keepers. If there were more of the monsters, they were long gone.
I think.
He didn’t know how long he had been lying there.
An hour.
A day.
A month.
A year?
It makes no difference, does it? It’s better that I stay here. Rebecca was being polite in taking me, but she must have known that I have no place among the elves. Perhaps I should find a cavern in these mountains. Maybe then I can make a home worthy of ancient legends. Away from everyone.
I can’t hurt anyone anymore then.
The idea made him smile—as much as he could smile anyway. He lifted his arm to his snout. It was strung with incredible muscle. He would have to learn to control his strength and his voice. He closed his eyes and stood up slowly.
‘Bendrick.’
The beast knew whom the voice belonged to all too well. He turned and picked up a jagged rock.
‘You knew this would happen, didn’t you? Your riddles make sense now,’ Bendrick said.
‘Not as you are, but as you will be—buried beneath metres of stone and surrounded by corpses of the cursed. Only in confusion, lie the answers you seek.’ The witch drew her hood back and threw it to the ground. Her purple dress seemed to give light off its very cloth. She walked over corpses of Keepers. Bendrick bared his jagged teeth.
‘What the hell do you know about what I seek!?’ Bendrick shouted, forgetting caution. The corpses around him burst into geysers of blood, but the witch seemed untouched. Not even a drop of blood splashed onto her. The mists of blood settled, and the witch walked up to the Minotaur, unafraid.
‘I promised you I would tell you everything, Bendrick. I meant it.’ Irina unlaced the wrapping around her head and let the cloth fall to the floor. She walked with eyes closed and stood directly in front of Bendrick. Bendrick realized that he had never seen her face without the wrapping around her eyes. Her nose was small but beautifully carved. Her cheeks had fluorescent tattoos that ran from her ears to her nose and then down to her chin. She opened her eyes, and light shone from them, as well as from the tattoos on her face—a white light, brighter than the sun in the brightest of days.
‘I have peered into the farthest reaches of the future and know the intricacies of the past. A few more times, and I will be lost in time—never in one place at any given time, but in all places at all times.’ Irina’s eyes seemed to dim, and the purple irises glowed through them.
‘What do you want with me?’ Bendrick said, dropping the rock from his hands.
‘The Dark can only be stopped by us, Bendrick. The Second Age of Fog will end. We are the first of the Harmony of the Apostles. Together, we will unlock the status of a god. Men, elf, and elder race will worship you.’
‘I don’t want worship.’
‘What do you want?’
‘I want to see my daughter once more. I thought it would happen when that…when my body was crushed. Now, my soul resides in this monster. I couldn’t even die right. Look at me!’ The beast howled, sending a blast of air in all directions. Dead Keepers flew in all directions away from them. Bendrick landed on his knees and cradled his head. ‘I am a daemon. I have become the thing that killed her.’
‘You are not Gruizoch, nor are you Bendrick anymore. You are a new creature. A new name will be given to you. I think…Bhazorych. For you were borne of blood and steel.’ Irina’s voice sounded like the pattering of the water of a cool spring on cold stone. Bhazorych lowered his head to the floor of the cavern.
‘Would you like to see the powers I have stolen from the gods?’ Irina said, picking up Bhazorych’s head in her hands. She rubbed the tufts of fur on his face.
‘You stole them?’
‘There are more things that I have stolen that are as mythical as that. We travel to the Hunting Grounds. Will you follow me and see them for yourself?’
Bhazorych looked back down the path to the exit of the cave. Screams could be heard from without.
‘Those horrid monsters will not bother us any further,’ Irina said, helping Bhazorych to his cloven feet. ‘Come, my love. Let me show you what it means to wield the power of the gods.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Heron Blue
RAIN PELTED THE beaches of the Red Vale. Elymiah clutched at her cloak, soaked and wet. Lightning rippled through the billowy black clouds, casting ominous shadows through the skies. The storm that Captain Ornelis had warned them of had come in greater force than she had thought it would. The Painted Basilisk rose and sank off the coast. Artus and Elymiah ran to the shore where their little boat was anchored. Artus jumped into the boat and helped Elymiah into it. He pulled the weight off the sand and placed it in the boat. He then pushed the paddle boat off the sandy beach. The tide was becoming intensely rough, but Artus sailed the small boat expertly to the Painted Basilisk.
Upon arrival, Captain Ornelis could be heard shouting orders. Artus tied the small boat and secured it to the bigger ship. Elymiah climbed the rope ladder up the edge of the ship and over onto the deck. Captain Ornelis glanced at them with hands folded behind his back.
‘The storm is upon us. Moments longer, and I would have left you,’ said Ornelis, somehow smoking his pipe. His wide brimmed hat protected the bowl from the rains. But Elymiah didn’t care about any of that. She ran below deck, careful not to slip on the wet wood. She had to see him. Robyn. Her eyes, though already in the dark, still had to get used to the even darker shadows below the deck of the merchant ship. A shadow stood out from the others as the figure rocked back and forth with the groaning of the ship. Elymiah grabbed a lantern and put it to her face.
‘Robyn?’
The figure stopped rocking and turned to the sound of the voice.
‘Robyn!’ Elymiah gasped and ran to him. She threw her arms around him and held him tightly. ‘Let me see your face.’ She slowly pulled the hood back to reveal his face. The light danced off the wooden arches of the boat and onto his face.
Elymiah gasped.
The Ashen Knight had fulfilled his promise. It was as if it had never happened. There were no scars in or around his eyes. His mouth was not cut. Elymiah laughed as she threw herself around his neck. ‘I was afraid to believe, but it worked.’ Elymiah’s heart trembled with joy. For the first time, happiness wrapped itself around her. Yet, Robyn remained stiff. He didn’t embrace her, nor did he even smile. His eyes were steeled to the hull of the Painted Basilisk.
‘Robyn? What’s wrong?’ asked Elymiah, cutting her laugh short.
‘You made a pact, didn’t you?’
The question threw her off guard.
‘What do you mean? I…I wanted you restored…I—’
‘You made a pact with the daemon. The sailors have been talking in your absence in the Red Vale Keep. I’ve been listening.’
‘But it wasn’t a daemon. Your eyes—’
Robyn twisted his shoulders and moved Elymiah’s hands away.
‘I never realized until our execution. We were supposed to die that night. But we didn’t. Oredmere spared us both,’ said Robyn, not even looking at Elymiah as he spoke.
Elymiah shook her head slowly. ‘Oredmere isn’t what you think. I…I met him.’
‘Heresy. You have cursed me twice, and for the last time, Ely.’
‘Robyn, no.’ Elymiah couldn’t help it. Tears collected in her eyes, and her lower lip began to tremble. She grabbed his shoulder. ‘Robyn, don’t say those things, please. I did this for you.’
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nbsp; ‘Don’t touch me!’ Robyn shouted and stood up, tossing her hand away. ‘I was a fool to think you and I had some sort of destiny. That fate was keeping us together. That we were in love. I should have known you would try to kill me by disobeying Oredmere’s holy and sacred laws!’ Robyn turned his back on her and began to walk above deck.
‘Robyn, please.’ Elymiah grabbed his arm, but Robyn turned and slapped her hard. Robyn grabbed her by the cloak clasp and slapped her again. Elymiah fell to the ground, but Robyn wasn’t finished. He grabbed her one last time and with all his might, beat her face, making her bleed from her lips and nose.
‘Robyn.’ Elymiah curled into a ball and sobbed. This couldn’t be happening. Her mind began to swim in despair.
‘You have returned my sight to me, but I cannot bear to look at you,’ Robyn said as he pulled the hood over his head and walked up the steps above deck, taking the lantern with him. Elymiah was left in complete darkness. But the shadows did not move. They only stared at her in silence. Thunder roared above deck, and a man shouted. Elymiah stood up and wiped the tears from her eyes and the blood from her face. If she begged for forgiveness, maybe Robyn would see her side. Elymiah rushed up the steps.
Rain fell hard onto the wooden deck of the Painted Basilisk. Men were running across the deck, pulling on ropes and securing barrels to the railing. Elymiah walked into the heavy rain and made Robyn’s outline out in the dark storm. He was standing dangerously close to the rail and with one hand casually on the rail. The ship was rocking violently on the seas, and Elymiah’s blood froze seeing him so close to the edge.
‘Robyn!’ Elymiah screamed over the heavy rains. Robyn’s head whipped back at her. A devilish smile decorated his face, and he pointed at Elymiah. Robyn’s mouth moved, but his voice was drowned out by the thunder, and she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Then Robyn looked over the frothing waters and jumped onto the railing. Elymiah screamed as Robyn fell over the edge. The splash wasn’t heard amidst the thunder overhead.
‘Man overboard!’ one of the deckhands yelled, and a few men rushed to the railing. They threw a flotation device, but they must have missed. Elymiah’s knees felt weak. She glanced to the opposite edge of the ship. Slowly, she carried herself to the edge. She moved as if she were underwater once more. Like a drunk, she placed a hand on the rail. The dark waters seemed to reach up from the seas. They were inviting her into their chilling embrace. Elymiah stepped onto the railing of the Painted Basilisk. So simple, isn’t it?
But before she knew it, two arms squeezed her away from the edge.
‘Don’t you dare,’ said Artus, pulling her from the wooden railing. Elymiah screamed and fought the grasp of his strong arms. She kicked and spat, but his arms only squeezed harder and harder like a vice. Elymiah’s breath began to seep from her lungs.
‘It’s alright. I have you now.’ Artus’ voice echoed as if he were far away. ‘Everything will be alright.’
No, it won’t be alright.
Elymiah’s breath didn’t return, and her world began to go darker. Thunder and lightning roared overhead, but the sounds and lights began to blur. Elymiah’s vision darkened, and she closed her eyes. She felt herself fall to the cold, wet wooden floor.
It will never be.