Between Darkness and the Light

by Paul T. H. Mitchener

  Bree was sitting next to Henry but leaning up against Acca. As usual, her thoughts were on Henry: he’d hardly said a word since he returned from that godforsaken place. She knew his mother’s loss was mainly to blame for how he was acting, but there was something else that was bothering him, something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Although he gave her lots of hugs and kisses and said all the right things, she knew in her heart that there was something not quite right with him… And she could only think of one sure way to find out what it was and at the same time perhaps help him put it right… and that was to soul-join. It had worked for Mylon and it could work for Henry but there was one major difference: Henry was hosting the Wyvern and there was no telling how it would react to her invading its host.

  She sat forward and looked down at him, his straggly, red hair hanging over his face. Softly she brushed his hair away from his eyes, hoping that he would turn her way, but instead he turned his face away a little. Hurt and upset, Bree sat back. She couldn’t just stand by and do nothing as she watched the person she loved the most sink even deeper into despair. She had to do something: but what? “Hot drink,” Mylon said as he handed her a small beaker of steaming tea. Having watched Bree all afternoon, Mylon could see that things weren’t right between her and Henry. However, unlike Bree, Mylon had a good idea what was wrong with him. Grief was of course Henry’s main issue but there was indeed something else, something only a warrior would understand, and that was the taking of another’s life.

  It didn’t matter how many lives one took afterwards, the first always stayed with you. Henry had to stop poor James from turning into something hideous, but knowing that didn’t make it any easier for him to bear. It changes a man: it could make a warrior a stronger and more decisive man, but it could also destroy him. Whichever form it took, it always affected a man deep inside, and could eat away until he was never the same again. Bree took the hot drink, giving Mylon a brief smile. “Our hero asleep, then?” he joked. Henry opened his eyes and sat up. “How can anybody sleep with your big feet stomping around?” he joked back. “Any idea what time it is?” Mylon shrugged. “Be dawn in a few hours.” Never having owned a watch and being an elf, Mylon had a totally different perceptive of time and how to tell it. Bree offered Henry a sip of her tea but he declined, stretched and then lazily got up and looked around for the others. “Where is everybody?” he asked. “Sophia left sometime ago… said she had a lot to take care of… whatever that meant, but she told me to tell you that she will catch up with you within a few days… Bert is still with the brothers… And as for Ben… well… I’m sure he’s around here somewhere,” Mylon answered as he looked around for any sign of the dog.

  He then turned back to face Henry. “My friend… I fear it’s time for us to part our ways… I have a kingdom to take care of… My high council has been disbanded, leaving my home without government.” He paused for a second. “When you were away fighting demons, I had word from my kingdom … and I’m afraid the news isn’t good.” He paused. “Lord Ventnor has been found dead along with two other councillors… ripped apart like my fa…” But he couldn’t finish the sentence. “Alk and the other troopers have already set off for home.” He put his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “But I didn’t want to leave without the appropriate goodbyes.” He smiled and looked down to Bree, then back to Henry. “As I told Nog… you’re in good hands.”

  He led Henry to one side. “A word of advice, my friend… Don’t shut Bree out… You must tell her how you feel… She may not understand everything but she will support you.” He paused to look over at her, sitting looking down in her cup. “Believe me, my friend… she’ll always be there for you.” With that, he turned away, indicated to Poppy to join him and then walked off to join Alk and the others. Henry wanted to object to him leaving. Ever since he met Mylon, which seemed a lifetime ago, he had always been the rock he needed to lean on, and to now see him leave hurt more than he had expected it would. However, he knew how things were when Mylon left his kingdom: no government and no leadership. The sooner he got back, the better. “Thanks,” he called out after him. Mylon stopped and turned to face him. “Thanks for everything!” Henry shouted, Mylon gave him one of his brightest smiles. “Don’t be a stranger… Come visit us… soon… Pagworth would love to see you!” Mylon shouted back.

  Henry stood and watched with mixed emotions as the only real friend he had ever known walked away. His heart sank and, to his surprise, he was missing Mylon already. He was always level-headed and true to himself and to his friends. Even after losing his father the way he did, his thoughts were never on himself, but on the well-being and safety of others. He was courageous but above all… a dependable friend. Bree took Henry’s arm. “My sweet,” she said softly, “we can visit him as often as you like.” Henry wasn’t convinced that they would, as he considered her large, green eyes. “I promise,” she said, nudging him. Henry sighed and took hold of both her delicately small hands to face her. “You know I love you, don’t you…? I mean, I haven’t done such a good job in showing it of late… and…” Bree placed her finger on his lips and smiled. “Yes, my sweet… I know.” She paused. “And I love you.” She smiled again. “Let’s go and find the others before they all disappear.” Henry nodded and, with that, Bree led him towards the other side of the clearing where Bert and the two brothers were huddled up against the cold night air.

  On seeing them approach, Bert stood up and walked over to meet them both. “How’s Grog?” Henry asked, almost in a whisper. Bert took Henry by the arm and led him away from the brothers so that he could speak without being overheard. “Not good, young Henry… not good at all… Nog is better now, just a few flesh wounds… but Grog,” Bert whispered, “e ain’t gonna die or nuffink… but the damage is too deep for me to do anyfink more for him… Done all what I could… but it ain’t gonna be enough.” He paused to look over to where the two fluff balls sat. “No… e ain’t gonna be the same again.” Henry looked over to the brothers and then back to Bert. “What do you mean?” Bert shrugged his shoulders. “Just that… it’s not just his injuries… it’s deeper… in ere,” he said, hitting himself in the chest, “where it matters…The shadow master’s dark magic works on him as we speak… As I said, I’ve done all I can… it’s up to him whether e’s strong enough ta fight it.” Bree pushed herself between the two. “Is there nothing we can do…? I mean we both have powers of our own, Henry and I… surely, we can do something between us… Anything other than sit back and watch him go downhill… I mean…” Henry took her hand. “Bert is as capable as any… what could we try that he hasn’t?”

  Bert paced away and turned back. “The nymph could be right,” he said. Henry didn’t like Bree being called a nymph: in his world it had an entirely different meaning. But Bree didn’t seem to mind: as far as she was concerned, that was exactly what she was, “a wood nymph”, so who was he to argue the point? “The Moonstone,” Bert said. “Does ya still ave it?” Henry shook his head. “No it was lost when the obelisk collapsed… I didn’t think to pick it up… there was all so much going on,” he said, realising for the first time that he had lost it. “No matter… it were a bit of a long shot anyways,” he said, walking away. Henry studied the Aelfgar for a moment: he had been carrying it around with him all this time and still he forgot that he had it. To him it was no more than just a hiking stick. “Bert!” he called out. Bert stopped and looked around. “What about the Aelfgar?” Bert shrugged his shoulders again. “What of it?” with Bree in tow, Henry rushed over to him. “It has the ability to extract magical powers, I’ve done it before… and it worked.”

  Surprised, Bert took a step closer to him. “What do ya mean ya done it before…? Where?” Henry didn’t realise that Bert was unaware of what he did for poor James. In fact he didn’t like to think about it himself, let alone speak of it. “I told you all earlier… on James… I had to use it on James,” he answered with his voice tapering off. “He and my uncle were attacked by tho
se little blue vampire things.” Bert grabbed Henry by the arms. “Nosferats,” Bert called out. Henry nodded. “I think so… but I’ve already gone over this,” he replied, a little confused by Bert’s reaction. “And what appened…? I mean exactly!” Bert bellowed, making Nog look up. Henry swallowed hard. “Well, I had to extract a poisonous magic from him before he… before James turned into something else…” He paused and pulled himself away from Bert’s strong grip. “I had to use the Aelfgar powers along with my own to extract the poison… But you know this already… I could try the same on Grog.”

  Bert paused a second for thought, then dug his hands deep into the pockets of his dungarees and shrugged once more. “Not the same, lad,” he said, dismissing him, whilst turning away. Henry ran after him. “What’s not the same?” Without stopping, Bert snapped, “The magic… it ain’t the same.” With that, he made his way back to Grog and his brother. Bree and Henry followed Bert over to join them and then spent the last hours of darkness huddled up together on a bed of dry moss. Henry had fallen asleep almost immediately but unfortunately for Bree, she couldn’t sleep: there was still far too much going on in her mind. It went without saying that Henry worried her the most, but now she had the worry over poor Grog. He was suffering in ways that she could never understand. Worse still, she could do nothing to help him. She then turned her thoughts to Hazel. In her mind’s eye, she pictured her soft eyes and warm smile. She had become very fond of her over the past few days and knew that she was going to miss her very much, but instead of crying, she found herself smiling as she thought of her and the time they had spent together over the past few days. But above all, she thought of how warm and caring she was, and how she had the ability to stay calm in the most difficult of situations.

  “Hazel would know what to do to help Grog,” she thought to herself. After all, she was a healer of nature and could work wonders in revitalising life where before there was only death and decay. She sat up and watched as the first hazy rays of sunlight blinked their way through the branches of the old oak. Then a thought dawned on her: if Hazel was a healer, then could she have passed her abilities to heal on to her son. Putting the Wyvern and Aelfgar aside, could Henry also be a healer? She turned to look at him as he lay asleep in her arms. It was the first time he had slept properly in days and she had no intention of waking him now to ask. Instead, she was only too happy having him back in her arms once again.

  Bert was the first to break the peace of the morning. “What now?!” he bellowed when he noticed Henry stir from his sleep. Henry sat up and stretched his arms above his head and yawned. Bree was already up and packing the few items she had left in her belt pockets. “Home, I suppose,” he said, still yawning. Bert walked over. “What’s ya old home… back in the town?” Henry nodded. “Where else…? I have no other home.” Bert was beside himself. “No other home… what…?!” he bellowed. Henry sat back, surprised at Bert’s outburst. As far as he was concerned, he had said nothing wrong. “Your home is ere, lad… ere is where ya belong!” Bert bellowed again, this time pointing to the ground. “This is your home… there’s nuffink back there for ya… And ave ya thought how ya gonna go about telling folk what appened to ya mother and uncle…? Well, ave ya?”

  Henry got to his feet and walked right up to Bert. He was a little taller than him and no longer intimidated by his outbursts. “What of my uncle?” Bert took a step back, unaware that Henry had no idea what had happened, and that when he killed the creature back in the cemetery, he did, in fact, kill his own uncle. Henry was too busy dealing with the shadow master to notice the remains of his uncle lying amongst the rubble. “You didn’t know, then?” Bert said in a more civil tone. Henry didn’t answer; instead he just stood and waited for Bert to continue. “Ya aunt told us… I guessed ya knew… but by the looks of ya, I spose ya don’t.” Bert sighed and then, after sitting Henry down, relayed to him everything Sophia had told him about the creature, and what the shadow master had done to his uncle Henry and how he had, at first, sided with the dark side and changed his mind once he found out that his nephew had become host. That was probably the reason for his death: the shadow master must have sensed his uncle’s change of mind and punished him by using him to kill his own family. Bert tried to reassure Henry that if it were not for him, the shadow master would have succeeded and by the time he killed the creature that was once his uncle, he was too far gone for anybody to help him anyway.

  Henry just sat quietly looking down at his hands, the shock of the news yet to sink in. Bree indicated for Bert to leave them alone for a while, hopefully giving Henry a little time to come to terms with the fact that he was responsible for the death of his own uncle – albeit the fault of the shadow master. Henry looked up at Bree, who welcomed him with a brilliant smile. “Did you know any of this?” he asked her. She nodded. “Lady Sophia spoke of it… the shadow master was delighted at what it had done to your uncle and bragged to her about it… It teased her on what it had done to their own brother… its own brother.” She paused. “But my sweet… you cannot be blamed for any part of his death… By the little I understand… I’m sure that your uncle was already well past any help or redemption.” Henry looked back down at his hands again. He was, of course, upset that he uncle was dead but surprisingly, he didn’t feel responsible for it. Bree and Bert were right: he had seen the creature himself and had at first hand felt its hatred towards him and his mother. It was truly an evil being and at the time, when he was standing face to face with it, he could see no other way then, nor could he now: he had to kill it before it took the lives of others.

  He nodded to himself, got back up, took Bree by the hand and led her over to where Bert and Nog were standing. “You’re right, Bert… I have no home to go to… There will be questions asked by the police, as well as others, on the disappearance of my mother and my uncle… questions I could never answer.” He paused to compose himself: his emotions were all over the place. He had never felt so lost. He had lost so much in order to keep the unseen balance between light and dark. His mother, his uncle and now his home, along with the life he had expected to live, in the world of humans: he was now no more than a missing person himself, and if he did go home, suspicion would fall solely on him for their disappearance, being the sole beneficiary to both his mother’s and his uncle’s estate. Somehow, he had to find it in himself to accept that this was now his life and his home. The trees for walls and their canopy for his roof, no more TV, no more computer games. He smiled to himself, knowing that both his mother and father would be proud of him and she’d be pleased that he was now in his rightful place.

  Unknown to all, back in the void and amongst the debris of countless shattered headstones and the remains of the obelisk, Henry senior stood over the charred husk of what remained of the shadow master, his eyes glowing red with anger. As the shadow master, he had achieved so much: he was feared by all and had many followers, but now he had nothing, just a second-hand body of his brother’s that could serve him only for a few days at best before it became unusable. It had taken him centuries to perfect his powers and to build up such a following amongst those who existed at the edges of life and those too afraid to enter into the light. He was the one who gave them the strength they needed to venture from the shadows. Without him, they would simply return into the half-life and darkness from whence they come. They were creatures of nightmare, and had no place in the land of the living. The hatred he felt towards the host was almost unbearable to hold back. Once the lord of the dead and feared by his enemies and all those who followed him, now he was no more than a shade, a mere ghost of his former self, forced once more to live amongst those he despised most.

  However, he still possessed a few of his old powers. For one, he could use the bodies of the dead, albeit just for a few days at a time, but more importantly, he still had the ability to process the souls of other living beings. He would return to the world of humans and find an appropriate soul for him to inhabit, but not just any soul: it
had to be that of someone who was always in the thick of what was going on around them. Someone who would know what the host and guardians were up to, someone who wouldn’t be under suspicion for asking too many questions; and he knew exactly who that person would be.

  “Well… now I’m a happy chappie,” Kreedy said as he placed the last book back in its place, although to look at, the whole cottage still looked a total mishmash of books and junk and just as before, scattered throughout the cottage were large pieces of machines and parts of old, non-working clocks, all mixed in amongst columns of books that were stacked up to the ceiling and, as far as Walt could make out, not in any particular order and with no system of indexing in place. Oden only knows how Kreedy managed to find anything.

  “I am truly grateful for your help,” Kreedy said, grinning from ear to ear. Walt nodded, slumped down at the table on an old, worn, wooden chair, and started mopping his head and neck with a clean hanky that Kreedy had given him. “It’s the least I could do to repay you for your hospitality,” Walt said, still a little short of breath, “but I must be setting off soon… I have a little way to go before reaching home and would like to get there before it gets dark.” Like Kreedy, he was unaware that the shadow master had been defeated, and that all the night crawlers and dark servants had been dispersed from this world, leaving the woodland safe once more. Alk, Poppy and the other injured troopers had left for home sometime ago, leaving just him and Kreedy to clear up the mess made by the earthquakes when the creature attacked.