Henry had to do something fast. James was of no use to anyone in his condition, and unfortunately it was now up to him to find a way to protect them both. Suddenly a blue flash of light shot past Henry’s head – a Nosferat testing his reaction. At first, Henry did nothing: he watched as the blue balls of light increased in numbers.
If it were not for the fact that they were deadly little vampires that wreak havoc everywhere they appear, he could have been forgiven for thinking that it was a beautiful sight. Another of the Nosferats flew past his head, but this time it almost touched his face. He knew he had to do something… but what?! He had the power to fight off most of them, but never this many. Then, without warning, the small balls of light shot upwards, circling as they went. Henry prepared himself for the attack, ignoring James as he thrashed around in the mud. He grabbed hold of the same lump of wood that he defended James with, and made ready by infusing it with some of his power. It glowed green in anticipation of the attack. If he was going to die, he would at least go out fighting.
Soaked through and covered in mud, Henry stood firm with a determined look in his eyes as he looked skyward, watching and waiting for the inevitable attack… but it didn’t come. Seconds went into minutes but still no attack. Instead, the tiny blue lights gradually got smaller as they flew higher and further away until they disappeared entirely. Breathing heavily, Henry still stood, ready, staring up at the sky with wood in hand ready to strike. When James finally calmed down enough to get back up, he was bleeding heavily but seemed not to notice. Standing next to Henry, he also looked up at the disappearing Nosferats. “Looks like you’ve scared them off, matey.” Henry stood motionless for a second and then dropped the lump of wood. He sighed and then turned to look at James. “But how?” Henry said. James glanced up to the sky and shrugged, but didn’t answer.
Henry turned around suddenly and looked out into the darkness behind them and whispered, “Did you hear that?” James listened a second and then shrugged his shoulders again. “I can’t hear nothing… maybe you’re just a little jumpy.” Henry put his hand up. “Quiet,” he said, ducking down between the ferns, pulling James down with him. “What?” he said just as he noticed a round shape materialise from out of the misty darkness and just behind it and to its left stood another. “Well, uncle… looks like we were just in time.” Neither Henry nor James moved: both were frozen to the spot. James was frozen by fear of the two round objects standing in front of him, and Henry by the unexpected, familiar sound of his nephew’s voice. Henry senior stood up and watched as his nephew materialised from out of the mist.
“Looks like you’ve both been through the woods” Henry said jokingly as he made his way through heavy growth of large ferns. “Henry… what… what are you?” Henry senior tried to say, but was still a little stunned by the attack and the shock of his nephew’s appearance. “What’s the matter, Unc…? Are you not pleased to see your favourite nephew?” His uncle finally smiled. “Of course I am,” he said, holding out his arms. “Come, give your old uncle a hug.” Henry went to put out his arm to embrace his uncle when James frantically shot forward and stood a little unsteadily between the two, making them stop in their tracks.
“Are you the host master?” Breathing heavily and unsteady on his feet, Henry nodded. “Then I must warn you that your uncle carries the spearhead of the Aelfgar… and could…” He hadn’t time to finish what he was about to say before Henry senior grabbed him by the neck. “And could do what?” he said, gritting his teeth. “I could do what?” he continued without waiting for James to reply. “You were about to say I could kill him… am I right?” James looked terrified. “You’d think that I would kill my own nephew?” James grabbed Henry’s hands in a poor attempt to release his grip but Henry senior held him firm. Henry walked over and placed his hand on his uncle’s shoulder. At first his uncle was so mad that he didn’t notice. “Unc,” Henry said calmly, “is it true…? Have you got the spearhead?” Seconds passed before his uncle regained some of his composure. He then released James by pushing him away, still angry that he could think that he would be able to harm his own flesh and blood, especially so soon after saving his miserable life.
Henry senior nodded. “Well, then… It’s good fortune for us finding you, then,” Henry said, smiling. “What were those things?” he continued, looking up to where the blue lights disappeared. “Nosferats,” his uncle answered. “Nasty little creatures… short-lived… nasty little vampires that rise from bodies and spirits of slain men… They only live for a month or so… but in that time they vandalise property, wreak havoc and kill anything in their path.” He paused and looked up at the sky. “They often appear as blue lights… but not always.” He looked back at his nephew a little bewildered. “But what scared them off…? They fear nothing.” Just then the two round objects made their way forward.
“Is our master alright?” one asked. “Yes.” “Is master hurt?” Henry shook his head. “I’m fine… thanks.” As they got closer, James started to back away. “What on earth are those things?” he said somewhat weaker and still very unsteady on his feet. Henry turned to him. “And who may I ask are you?” he enquired. His uncle stepped forward. “This is James… up to today, he was my manservant… But it turns out that he’s also a guardian… or so he claims… But I’ve seen little or no evidence of it so far,” he said, looking at James suspiciously. Being dark, at first Henry didn’t notice that James was having trouble standing, but then James stumbled a little. “Are you alright?” he asked. “Don’t you go worrying about me,” James replied. “Hard as nails, me,” he said just before he stumbled again. Henry rushed forward and caught him just before he fell and sat him gently on the ground and leant him against a large rock, Although James’s clothes were wet through and muddy, Henry didn’t notice that James was bleeding, and that it wasn’t mud on his hand but blood.
Still unaware of James’s injuries, Henry went to finally greet his uncle properly. As he approached his uncle he wiped his hands on his trousers: it was only then that he noticed they were covered in blood. He looked to his uncle questionably, but his uncle just shrugged his shoulders. “Must have been the Nosferats… I had to knock two of the little buggers off him… But I had no idea that they injured him… I thought that they were just clinging to his jacket.” Both Henrys rushed over and knelt down in front of James, ignoring the discomfort of kneeling in the mud. “How do you feel now?” Henry senior asked. James looked up and they could both see that his face was drawn and had turned a ghostly white. He shook his head and tried a smile, and with a great deal of effort replied, “Just need a little rest… that’s all Mr H.” Henry called over to Grog and Nog who were standing a respectable distance away. “Can you watch him a moment?” he asked as he and his uncle got up. Grog reluctantly was the first to move forward, whilst Nog stayed back a little. Henry was a little confused by their actions: they had always been only too happy to do anything he asked, so why were they so reluctant now?
Grog stood a few feet from James but wouldn’t get any closer. “What’s your problem?!” he shouted at them. “Nosferats,” Grog said. “Yes, master… Nosferats,” Henry had no time for messing around, James was sick and in need of help, and judging by the amount of blood he had lost, he needed help now. “What of them?” he snapped back. He could see that he had upset them both but at this point didn’t care, but neither one answered him. He was about to shout at them again, but his uncle took him by the arm. “Let me explain,” he said calmly. “Explain what…? There’s nothing to explain… The man’s injured and needs help… so what’s the problem?” Henry snapped. His uncle led him away from James so that he couldn’t hear what he was about to say. “Nosferats’ claws are poisonous… He’s going to die, Henry.” At first Henry didn’t respond. Both he and his uncle stood looking at each other a second, but still Henry didn’t say anything. He slowly walked a few steps away from his uncle and then turned. “Is there nothing we can do for him?” His uncle shook his head. “Nothing
… except…” He didn’t finish his sentence. “Except what?” Henry said, rushing back to his uncle’s side. “Except what, Uncle?”
Henry senior looked over to where James was lying. He then looked to Grog, who immediately turned away, not wanting to make eye contact. He knew what had to be done, but had no idea if his master could do what was necessary to help the poor man. “Except help him on his way… before…” He paused again and took a breath. “Before he changes.” Henry glanced over to where James lay slumped against the rock. “Changes?” he snapped. “Changes into what?” His uncle placed his hand on Henry’s shoulder but Henry shrugged it off. “Well, uncle.” Henry senior sighed. “He’s going to die no matter what… And there’s nothing you or I can do about it… And believe me when I tell you it won’t be pleasant.” He paused. “He will suffer an agonising, painful death… but it doesn’t end there… Once his heart stops the changes will begin.”
He took Henry by the arm again and moved a little further away. “You’ve seen or at least heard of Grylluses.” Henry shook his head: he had never heard the word, let alone knew anything about them. His uncle sighed again. “Your mother has a lot to be accountable for… They are a kind of half-demon… Each looks different to the other.” He paused and took a moment to look over to poor James. Grog and Nog were now watching him, but still keeping a respectful distance. They both knew what to expect. “The kind of person you were in life dictates the kind of creature that emerges.” He looked back over to where James lay slumped against the rock. “His life is over, my boy… There’s nothing we can do about that… But we can help him by stopping his suffering… and with your help we may be able to stop him from changing.”
Henry knew exactly what his uncle was saying and he didn’t like it at all. He didn’t have it in him to take another man’s life, no matter what the circumstance, but if he didn’t… “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do…? I helped my mother with the Moonstone.” His uncle shook his head. “That was magic… I know that you have the ability to control magic… but this is a poison… It’s in his blood and by now in his entire body.” He placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder again. “There’s nothing you can do to save his life… but you may be able to save his soul.” Henry reluctantly nodded. “Just show me what I need to do,” he said with a lump in his throat. “You’ll need the Aelfgar,” his uncle replied.
Henry was half-expecting his uncle to say that, but was unsure whether he was willing to use it. As yet, the shaft itself had had little effect on him, except it was true to say that at first it started to turn his hands black, but even that had healed up. He was unsure of the possible consequences it may have on him if he used it… Up to now he had given the Aelfgar little thought. To him, he was just carrying a stick around… but now it was different… Once he put the spearhead and shaft together, it was no longer just a stick… It then became a powerful weapon which could have irreversible repercussions on the user… Him.
He had been told a number times how dangerous the Aelfgar was to handle, let alone use. One of the main reasons for him carrying the artefact was so that no one else could use it against him. However, he had never been told how to use it or what to expect when he did. Henry rested the shaft against a tree. “Let’s see it, then,” he said, accepting the fact that he had no other choice. Reaching into his pocket, Henry senior pulled out the dirty, old rag and studied it a second. “Are you sure?” he asked as he handed it to his nephew. Henry started to open up the rag but paused. “Not really, Unc… but what else is there for us to do?” he said, looking over to James slumped against the rock. He looked down to the dirty, old rag in his hands and then unwrapped it. The light was poor but just bright enough for him to see it. Both Henrys stood staring at it. “Not much… is it?” Grog and Nog kept their distance both from the spearhead and from James: they were fully aware how dangerous the Aelfgar was, having seen what happened to the last host. Unless it was a matter of life or death, they would prefer to leave it well alone. As for James, they both knew exactly what would happen to him once his heart stopped beating.
Henry had no reason to question anything his uncle had told him and as painful as it was he had to agree that it was unthinkable to allow poor James to suffer more than he had to, let alone allow him to eventually turn into some kind of half-demon. He walked over to James and knelt in front of him so that they could see each other. James had deteriorated fast: his eyes had sunk into his head and already turned a lifeless grey. It was like looking into two dark grey pebbles, and his breathing was very shallow.
“James,” Henry said softly, leaning close to his face but with no response. “James,” he said again, and this time his head lifted a little and then dropped back down. Henry patted him on the arm. “You’ll be fine… we’ll look after you.” At this point, James started to thrash around on the ground, rocking back and forth and hitting his head on the rock a number of times but seemingly not feeling it. “It’s started,” Henry senior said in an almost sympathetic tone. He rushed over and grabbed James by the arms and James immediately stopped moving, his lifeless, grey eyes staring into nothingness. Henry knelt next to James with tears in his eyes. He turned to look up at his uncle, who was still holding poor James down. “I can’t say I liked the man.” He paused. “But we got along together… as best we could over the years.” He paused again, still looking down at him. “He doesn’t deserve this… nobody deserves this.”
Getting back to his feet and without another word, Henry took hold of the staff and for the first time noticed that the whole night around them seemed to have gone deathly quiet. The mist and clouds cleared just enough to be illuminated by the moonlight. He looked around, half-expecting something unpleasant to happen but nothing did. “Pull yourself together, man,” he said to himself. Since crossing over from the realm of elves, in his mind’s eye he had been seeing danger around every corner. Taking a deep breath, he took the staff in one hand and the spearhead in the other. He held them out for all to see and without hesitation then pushed the spearhead onto the shaft, closing his eyes as he did, expecting something spectacular to happen, a flare or burst of magic… but nothing. He waited for a second, still expecting something to happen but still nothing did. He gingerly opened his eyes and looked down at his uncle and shrugged his shoulders.
His uncle then got up to place a reassuring hand on Henry’s shoulder. “You do know that the Aelfgar can harm you, too,” he said with genuine concern in his voice. “It’s the only weapon on this earth that can.” He paused, waiting for a reply, but Henry just shrugged again. “Don’t worry, Unc… I’ve been told often enough over the past few days, but it’s a risk that needs to be taken.” Henry senior wasn’t that convinced that his nephews would be strong enough to survive using the Aelfgar, especially with such a cavalier attitude. A weapon as powerful as the Aelfgar should be treated with respect, but more importantly needed to be controlled by a strong user. If his nephew wasn’t strong enough, it could do more than just harm him… it could kill him… along with others around him. But it wasn’t the time or place to go into it now. Henry would need every ounce of courage and strength to achieve what was required to relieve James of his pain and the curse that had been inflicted upon him. So, to put doubt in his mind now wouldn’t be the wisest thing to do. James suddenly took a deep breath, his strength completely drained away by the venomous poison that now had spread throughout his body. Henry rushed over and knelt next to him, placing a hand on his forehead and leaning forward, now close to James’s face. “James… we’re all here,” he whispered. “You’re not alone.” Trying his hardest not to break down himself, however, James showed no response, but no matter how remote the possibility, Henry wanted James to know that he was not alone. He sat back on his heels and instinctively knew what to do. He lifted the Aelfgar to the sky and then laid the spearhead on James’s head. With his eyes closed he concentrated on the power that lay within him.
Seconds went by and then slowly Henry started to e
mit a yellow aura around him, quickly surrounding both him and James. The brightness increased as Henry fought to control both the Wyvern and the power from the Aelfgar, both forces trying to eliminate the other. At first most of his attention was to keep the two forces apart: it was a dangerous thing to do considering the fact that the Aelfgar was created to destroy the Wyvern. Slowly he allowed the dark powers of the Aelfgar to enter James’s body. James arched up in agony as the Aelfgar worked its dark magic deep into his very soul, seeking out the venom, destroying anything in its wake, looking to control what was left of James. James arced again and twisted in pain, his mouth open and his face distorted in a silent scream.
The safety of all concerned was down to timing. Henry had to judge when to call back the dark powers before they had a chance to take hold of James, now satisfied that the Aelfgar had destroyed all the poison in James’s body. He then concentrated to channel the power of the Wyvern into James in an attempt to force out the dark powers of the Aelfgar. He had to play one off against the other: the Aelfgar to kill off the curse, and the Wyvern to force the Aelfgar’s powers back into the spear and then regain the balance.
Shielding his eyes from the glare, all Henry’s uncle could see was a bright, golden glow. He could see neither his nephew nor James. However, that couldn’t be said for Grog or Nog: they were watching intensely and seemed to be able to see everything. Being servants to the Wyvern gave them special powers, one of which allows them to see through the brightness it generated. Henry senior walked over and stood next to Grog and Nog. He could see the sadness and pain they were feeling reflected in their large, saucepan eyes. Nog acknowledged Henry by giving him a brief nod, but no words were exchanged… For no words could be found to express how deeply affected they all were by the whole experience. Henry gave a thought to his nephew. If he was feeling this bad by being a bystander, he couldn’t imagine how his nephew must be feeling right now. But surprisingly for him, he also felt immense pride for his nephew. He had never witnessed such strength: his mother and aunt both were powerful women when it came to the use of magic but nothing like this. To be able to control the two most powerful forces ever known, and at the same time, must take incredible strength, will and concentration. All doubts he had about his nephew having the right to host the Wyvern were washed away.
Between Darkness and the Light Page 39