Dark Humanity

by Gwynn White

  Christol did not stop to think, in fact, no thoughts crossed his mind at all. He simply sent an image to Standish, and with a symbiotic quickness, the charger launched itself after Ellora’s runaway mount. The hunter’s gait was no match for the big warhorse, and within seconds, Christol was beside it and reaching for the reins. The farrier wasn’t sure if the flames that engulfed the priestess had spooked the animal into a maddened flight, or if Ellora had purposely charged off into the heart of the forest. Either way, it didn’t matter. She was in danger, and he would protect her at all costs. And, it was without thought of the costs to himself that he pulled her flaming body against him and held her tight.

  Heat seared through every nerve of his body for a blink of an eye, and all conscious thought burned to ashes in the furnace of the goddess’ flames. Yet, as quickly as it scorched him, Ellora’s unacknowledged love for him doused the angry fires, and soothed away the raw ends of his pain making it only a terrifying, yet very real memory.

  “Christol,” tears streaked her face and sobs shook her tiny body. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

  He quietly stroked her hair, letting her speak as she finally voiced what she really felt.

  “I am so scared. I hate this. I never know when She is going to take over, or what She wants, or what She will make me do. And, I hate the magic. I always have. You know that.” She turned her face up towards his. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, not really. I am fine now.” And, he was. It was the first time she had ever let him hold her. Even as children, she shied away from anyone’s touch. When others would hold hands on a trail, she went alone. When others needed a hand up over a rock outcropping, she went around. And, the subject of how he felt about her was blasphemy, never acknowledged, and never before had he felt that there was even a chance that she might share his feelings.

  She pulled away from him, and he could see her studying him with the same intensity she would scrutinize the game tracks she was following. It was as if she was searching for something she hadn’t noticed before, or as if something that had suddenly just become clear. It was one of the things he loved about her - her single-minded devotion to whatever task she set herself to. It gave her purpose and challenged her to exceed her own expectations, and without knowing it, she motivated others to strive for higher goals. He returned her gaze without hesitation, knowing he had nothing to hide, and watched as, in the same manner she used on the hunt to decide which direction to take, her scrutiny changed to enlightenment and confidence.

  “I know of a way to end this,” she said.

  For the first time in her life, Ellora saw fear flicker in Christol’s eyes. “As do I,” he replied. “Are you sure?”

  “I would rather die trying than live as a slave to Her whims.”

  He nodded. He knew that would be her answer. “Do you think we can convince the others?’

  Ellora shrugged. It had the appearance of nonchalance, but he knew she was as terrified as he was. “We’re headed to the Draekhen Mountains anyway, might as well.”

  Her easy answer didn't fool him. No one in their right mind would approach Maura, and to Christol it was unmistakable proof of how desperate Ellora was to escape the Goddess’ control. His only concern was whether she would be exchanging one begin mistress for another evil one. No one escaped Maura’s domain freely. A bargain would be struck, a bargain that always benefitted Maura or Athgaard, the god she served. He shook his head, “This is not a good idea,” he thought.

  “Ellora…” he began.

  “Is this a private party or are we invited too?” Riesa and Stephye reigned their horses to a pounding stop next where the couple stood. However, one look at worry lines on Christol’s face halted the ribald comment that Stephye had prepared. His friend didn’t worry about much, and if the farrier was worried then Stephye knew it was something worth worrying about. He glanced at Riesa and knew from her matching worry lines that she had seen it too. They dismounted and joined the couple to form a small circle while Christol asked the horses to protect them with an image of a herd surrounding a foaling mare.

  “Uh…what’s happened?” Riesa and Stephye asked almost in unison.

  “Are you okay, are you hurt, what were those flames all about…” Riesa would have continued with the questions, but an annoyed look from Ellora stopped her in mid-question.

  “I’m fine, I am not hurt, those were Goddess flames and I don’t know.” Ellora sighed deep enough that all three of them could see the rise and fall of her chest. “I have decided we are going to see Maura. If the Goddess wants us to go to the dragon’s den then I intend to put the journey to good use. I will be free.”

  And, this time Christol’s sigh matched hers.

  Sunlight glittered off the dragonet’s iridescent wings. Like a shellfish’s pearly home, its wings shimmered with shades of blue, green, red and pink all layered with opalescent webbing making it look more like a butterfly than a dangerous predator. As it spread its wings toward the sun, straining for freedom, its flight halted by a sudden yank of its invisible chains. It roared and hissed in frustration, shooting gouts of flaming fire toward its rear leg where the magical tether anchored it to the witch’s cave. It screamed in pain as its own fires blazed down its thigh, and tumbled fifty tree-lengths back to the earth.

  “You silly creature. Haven’t you learned by now that there is no escaping Maura,” the witch shook her head at the dragon’s continued attempts to escape. “You know,” she continued, “this will also cost you your dinner tonight. Maybe, you’ll learn someday, but I doubt it.”

  She turned her back on the injured dragonet, unafraid of its fiery breath, and entered the cave she called home. Turning back, she inspected the small dragon that guarded her home’s entrance. Her tongue licked her cracked lips as a small smile of satisfaction turned up the corners of her mouth. “Let the wizard come,” she thought, “he won’t get far.”

  “Drink this; you need your strength for what is ahead.”

  Jogli took the cup in silence and gratefully took a deep drink of the spiced mead and honey. He could feel the surge of energy race through him from both the sugared wine and the magic the wizard had cast on it. He knew that whatever task Vail would set before him, he was now physically capable of completing it. He wasn’t so sure about his magical skills, but he knew he didn’t dare fail his master again.

  “They are here,” Vail said, pointing to a spot on a map that lay before him.

  In the dim light cast by the fire, Jogli could barely see, and he squinted and strained with his one good eye to identify the location. Unsure what the wizard expected of him, he remained silent.

  “From their location and the direction they are traveling, I can only surmise that they are on their way here. It appears that they are going to mount a direct confrontation. The Goddess’ priestess is no match for me, and she knows it. Therefore, there must be another reason for her travels.”

  He turned toward Jogli, the map laying discarded on the table. “It makes no matter. The priestess is nothing. I what the man who controls the animals.”

  This time Jogli knew what to say. “Yes, Master.”

  “Come here.”

  Jogli rose from the chair by the fire where the master had bade him sit, and shuffled to the table.

  “They are head toward the Draekhen Mountains. If they continue on this course, which they must if they are coming here, you can trap them here.”

  Jogli stared down at the map. It was a good place for an ambush. There was only one known narrow pass through the mountains and it opened up into the Flame Meadows. The spot the magician selected would trap them between the meadows and that path. But, the dragons had created another secret passage, one that only they and the wizard knew about. If Jogli and his soldiers came down behind them, Christol and the others, could neither go forward nor retreat. Yet, Jogli hesitated to say anything, and Wizard Vail understood his adopted son’s hesitation.

  “I have prepared
a spell which will render him harmless. He will neither be able to speak to the horses, the dragons, or anyone else for that matter.” Vail chuckled a bit. “He will be as harmless as a trapped morning dove and you will bring him here so that he can sing for me.” This time the magician’s grin made it to his eyes and the glittered with the sickly green evil of swamp gasses in the firelight.

  Jogli turned away from the man he called father and master, unwilling to participate, but afraid not to.

  Stephye looked to Riesa and then to Christol. Riesa just shrugged, but Christol’s eyes narrowed in a warning that he would not hear any objections or arguments. Stephye, as usual, ignored him.

  “Ellora, you can’t really be serious. No one makes a deal with Maura. No one.” Stephye cleared his throat. “Well, no one that has lived to tell about it anyway.”

  Ellora pulled away from Christol and turned to face Stephye and Riesa. “I didn’t ask you to travel with me to the Halls of Marbeht, and I am not asking you to go with me to Maura’s den, either. However, if you decide to make this journey I expect unquestioning obedience. You will do exactly as I command or you may leave.”

  Even Christol seemed a bit taken aback at Ellora’s words, but even more so at her tone. It was cold like the autumn wind that blew down from the mountains, determined and with an underlying current of worse weather to come. And like the autumn wind, it held no hint of warmth for those in its path. Yet, they knew it was not the Goddess speaking through their friend. There was no aura of unearthly power, only a frigid single-mindedness that was as unlike their friend’s warmth and compassion as the moon’s waning light was different from the noonday sun.

  “Ellora…” Christol reached toward the priestess.

  “I will be free.”

  “I understand, but Maura does only what is best for Maura. You will free yourself from the Goddess, but end up serving a mistress a thousand times worse.”

  “He’s right,” Riesa interjected. “Ellora, look at me, please.”

  The woman turned toward her friend, moving on her head, her body held stiff, taut and ready like a bow in a hunter’s hand whose prey is in sight. The younger woman searched the priestess’ face, and she found no trace of the Goddess’ priestess, the woman trained to serve, love and heal. Riesa inhaled deeply at the look on Ellora’s face, and then turned away toward the others, her hand covering her mouth as if she was afraid to speak.

  Riesa stepped back and reached for Stephye’s hand. She looked up at Christol and also searched his face as if judging whether or not he could understand the change in Ellora, not that she understood how it had happened. Riesa simply recognized it, but even she was not yet ready to accept it.

  “Christol,” she said at last, “the priestess is gone.”

  Ellora’s love did not have to say a word, the confusion in his eyes and on his face was clear, and Stephye’s face mirrored his friend’s.

  “The magic has consumed her,” Riesa stated. “She has become The Huntress.”

  Maura appeared unaware of the mass of green ick in the corner of each eye that was intently studying a three-D projection of the world of Mithlonde. It hung in free suspension in the air before her and two twin lines, one green and one red, stood out in bright contrast against the gray hologram she had created. She cocked her head to the side cause an equally sick-colored green gob of snot to run down her chin. Without removing her eyes from the globe, she pulled up a corner of her skirt and wiped it away, and then using the same filth-covered hem she wiped at her eyes.

  “There,” she said at last. “That is where they will meet.” She was tracing the two lines through the mountains, and their collision path was obvious from the aerial view she had. “I think that is where I shall make an appearance as well.”

  There was a note of smug satisfaction in her voice, and the chained dragon who watched her didn’t need her to verbalize her plans in order to understand them. Closing his eyes as if napping, he reached out for his brood.

  “She is planning on capturing them both.”

  “Aye, we thought as much. Is she treating you well?” Came the reply.

  The dragon equivalent of a snort came through clearly. “Do you mean will she let me fly, stretch my wings and feed me enough to fill my belly? No. but we didn’t expect her to. I am fine. I will survive.”

  “Every dragon in Mithlonde appreciates and honors the sacrifice you made and continue to make.”

  The older dragon definitely received a mental image of a shrug.

  “It needed to be done, and I was the logical one to do it. Allowing her to capture a full-grown, magically capable dragon would have raised her suspicions. None, she remains unaware of who we really are, what we are skills truly possess, and we can monitor her nonsense and stop it before it because truly necessary. As, I said it was necessary.”

  “Yes, what you say is true, but you do not give yourself enough credit. It is still dangerous, and you were, and are, very brave to continue to do this for your dragon brethren.”

  The younger dragon graciously received the homage given with a slight bow to the elder.

  “I thank you, Jespar the Eldest.”

  “Be on guard, and be well, youngling. The witch, Maura, has many dangerous tricks and wields evil magicks from the beginning of time.”

  “I will not underestimate her Jespar. I promise I will be careful.”

  The young dragon’s head lifted as if toward the sun, and Maura turned to watch him for a second. She had no way of know that the dragonet was receiving one last caress from his own true master, Jespar, King of the Dragons.

  Chapter Five

  “I don’t understand,” Christol said, laying a hand on Riesa’s arm to restrain her. Turning her around, he faced her. “What do you mean the magic has consumed her? How can this be? She’s been training all her life to wield the Goddess’s magic.”

  “And that’s the problem.” Riesa shook Christol’s hand off her arm. “She is not using the Goddess’s power. The magic has devoured her. She allowed her anger to burn away the Goddess’ control on the magic, and now the magic is all that remains.”

  Christol scratched at his beard in confusion, and then brushed the hair off is brow as if he was soothing away his concerns. “I still…I don’t know what you mean.”

  Stephye had joined them. His puzzled expression matched Christol’s. Ellora remained on horseback studying the skies as if the gathering clouds carried the answers she needed.

  Shaking her head at the need to waste time in explanation, Riesa said, “Wild magic formed Mithlonde under the Goddess’ direction. Wild magic sustains Mithlonde under the Goddess’ guidance. In other words, the Goddess’ power controls and wields the wild magic. Ellora taught me that the Goddess bends it to her will for the good of Mithlonde and all its creatures. Without her controlling power, the magic is like a feral animal, dangerous, unstoppable and easily corrupted.”

  Riesa paused, and then continued, “Wizard Vail wields the wild magic which is why he must be stopped, and Maura…” She cupped her chin in her hand, laying a finger over her lips as she fought for the words to explain the danger Ellora faced. “Maura wields magic from realms no one has explored. Not even the Goddess.”

  Riesa looked up and stared into the faces of each man, searching them for understanding and acknowledgement of the seriousness of what she had just said.

  “Oh,” Stephye managed to say at last.

  Christol was a little more coherent. “That’s why the Goddess sent Ellora to stop the wizard, and why we have to stop Ellora from contacting Maura, but what is wrong with her now?”

  The sun glinted at the shimmer of tears in Riesa’s eyes as she talked. “Ellora has always commanded more of the Goddess’ power than any other being, dragon or human, in Mithlonde which is why she was selected for training so early. All of us have magic to some degree, some more than others, and most magic centers on a certain skill or talent. Ellora’s magic seems unlimited.”

  “I always t
hought she was special,” Stephye muttered. “But, special in a good way.”

  “She is special, but, she always refused to embrace it. She fought the Goddess’ power, and fought the magic that is in her blood.”

  The tear fell and slowly streaked through the travel dust on Riesa’s face. “She was afraid to embrace it, to allow it to gradually increase through the training, and thus she never learned to control it. Her anger at the Goddess trying to make her use the magic in ways she thinks of as evil has burned away all the controls she had learned. The wild magic runs freely through her now. She has become its tool. Its huntress; one that only seeks to fulfill its personal desires.”

  Christol tasted only road dust as he bit his lips in thought. “Is there a way to save her?”

  “I don’t know, but we need to keep talking to her, keep her centered in the here and now, and not let the magic take her mind with it.”

  Christol straightened. “Alright, then. Let’s mount up and she what she has to say.

  “What exactly is your plan?” Christol asked Ellora as he rode up beside her. She had overheard their conversation, but it made no difference in her heart of mind. The magic consumed her and she was no longer the Ellora they knew. They had traveled most of the morning in silence, and the narrow mountain path now dipped down into a shady vale beside which a small stream gurgled under the tree boughs. The weary group of travelers relaxed their tense vigil allowing the peace of the glade to soothe their fears and worries. All, except Christol who never ceased worrying,

  “We ride together toward Marbeht, and then at Maura’s hollow we split up, and I go find her.”

  “That’s it? That is your whole plan?”

  Ellora jerked back the reins, causing her horse to rear up to a jolting stop. She flipped around sideways in her saddle and stared at Christol. “Do you any better ideas?” she snarled at him.