by Chloe Hodge
“Shara, take the guard, we will need him for questioning.” He gazed upon the clearing. “You know what to do.”
They took off in opposite directions, circling round through the undergrowth and blending into shadow and tree. It was silent spare a few snores, and all eyes, including those of the guard, appeared to be closed.
Green eyes locked onto golden brown ones and Ashalea gave a slight nod. Shara whipped a small dagger out and in one swift motion had her blade on the guard’s throat and one hand over his mouth. She retreated into the darkness, his expression one of shock and fear as he was eaten by the foliage.
Now was Ashalea’s chance. Crouching forwards, she edged into the clearing, carefully stepping around bodies and anything that would clink or clang. She navigated the area with the ease and stealth that only an elf could have.
And there it was. A silver key tied to a leather cord over the biggest guard’s neck. The leader, she assumed. Exasperated, she might have cursed herself, if not for the sake of silence. Tip toeing closer, she pulled her dagger out, its serrated edge gleaming from the fire, her fierce reflection caught in the mirrored surface. Gripping the cord with two fingers either side, she started slicing, her eyes on the man’s bearded face, watching for a sign of movement. Mumbling incoherently, he shifted in his sleep and turned on his side.
It occurred to her she could end his life with a flick of the wrist. His lifeblood would ebb away, and his evil presence would cease to exist. The thought startled her. She had trained hard to end one evil life but hadn’t considered harming others in the process. Not simple thugs and brigands anyway, and certainly not in their sleep.
Her breath hung in the air and her heart leapt out of her chest as the man’s breathing changed, but he snored, and she cut the key free. Then she went leaping to the cage. The mechanism clicked, the lock opened, and Ashalea slid the chains carefully from the bars. Crawling inside the cage she gently shook Harrietti and held a finger to her lips.
The old woman’s eyes fluttered open slowly, filling with recognition when she saw Ashalea’s face. She hopped down with the aid of Ashalea and they too disappeared into the darkness.
When they reached Wezlan once more, they found the guard bound and gagged with a very smug looking Shara keeping him in check. Wezlan patted Ashalea on the back and took the seer’s weight on one shoulder.
“They could wake any minute and realise she’s gone. We must be away,” he said with urgency.
Shara led the party in the direction of the Old Road, dragging the unwilling guard with her. “We will stay the night in Lillion. The Onyxonites are friends of some villagers there, and we use their place as a base for operations sometimes. They will give us beds for the night,” she said.
Wezlan eyed her off. Ashalea knew he didn’t trust her. She could tell by his stiff posture, the white knuckles as he clenched his staff, and the other hand that hovered close to his hilt. She wasn’t sure of their new companion either. But despite Wezlan’s reservations about Shara’s trustworthiness, he nodded his consent.
Ashalea saw his face cloud with worry as he looked at Harrietti’s head wound. The seer needed medical attention and rest, but it would take too much time to perform healing Magicka now, and it was not yet safe. On foot it was around an hour’s walk away, but the company decided it was their best option. The horses would take too long to reach them, and Wezlan needed his energy to help the seer.
“Hang on Harrietti,” he said shifting her arm over his shoulders. “Almost there.”
“I have waited some years to meet you Wezlan Shadowbreaker. What’s a few more hours?” She mumbled drowsily.
Then she fell into a dreamless sleep.
◆◆◆
When the seer’s wrinkled eyelids flickered open once more, an elf, a human, and a wizard were peering down at her. She sat up slowly with the aid of Ashalea and peered around the room. They were in a basement. Several beds were scattered in one corner and a large table littered with scrolls and maps filled the open space. Beside the wall a rack displayed varying types of blades. Daggers, scimitars, short swords, long swords, broadswords...
A station to the other wall was filled with many herbs and spices, and strange liquids capped with cork stoppers. Poisons and antidotes. Ashalea glanced at Shara. The Onyxonites were well prepared, she could give them that.
By the beds, a fire crackled away, omitting a warm glow in the dark. Harrietti’s eyes returned to the faces hovering nearby, and she chuckled.
“Kept you waiting, have I?” She laughed once more and reached for her head, wincing in immediate pain.
Wezlan scurried over with a bowl of soup and laid it down on the bedside table. He placed his hand on her forehead, still feverish.
“You’ve been out for a night and day, Harrietti. You must eat and regain your strength. When you feel able, we will talk. What’s a few more hours, right?” He winked.
They all sat and ate for a time, enjoying the soup and light — if not a little strained — conversation, but Harrietti could handle their anxious glances and hushed tones no longer. She cleared her throat and silence followed.
“Well now, you want to know about the fate of Everosia?” She curled gnarled fingers together and waited.
They all nodded and even the guard, still gagged and tied in a corner poked his head up out of interest. He had been thoroughly questioned while the seer was out, and suffice to say, was suffering from some added bruises and likely a concussion.
“The Guardians of the Grove have long kept watch over the portal, protecting our world from the evil that lurks in other dimensions. But despite Magicka and the gifts bestowed upon some of our kind,” she nodded at Ashalea, “age is our constant shadow in life.”
She sighed, and Ashalea could see the weariness settling in. “The Guardians are failing, and a new age has dawned. It is your destiny and your quest to find those next in line with the power and heart to take on such a task.”
Ashalea watched the seer’s face intently. Her eyes told the truth, and she fully believed what she was saying.
So, I am on the right path, after all.
The seer turned to Ashalea directly, and she could swear that the old woman nodded. The moment was over just as soon as it began, and Ashalea had to question if her eyes had played tricks on her.
Harrietti glanced over at the table. “A map of Everosia, if you will?”
Shara jumped up and shuffled through the piles until she found one, the seer’s knobbly fingers reaching out for it.
“I have seen visions of these places many times,” she said while pointing to four places on the map: the Aquafarian Province, Shadowvale, Diodon Mountains and Kingsgareth Mountain.
“Flickers of the scenery and of the people who live there. You must speak to the leaders, and Wezlan you must offer your counsel. Only then will you find those that would join you on your quest, with the exception of one member, whom I believe you have already found.”
Her eyes rested on Shara and everyone’s gaze shifted to the young woman who was now glancing around a little nervously.
“Me?”
“There must be one of each race to join the Guardians, for that is the promise made many moons ago. I am sure it is no coincidence you found Ashalea and Wezlan while looking for me. There is also the matter of your birth. You are the descendant of a long line of leaders who have guided the Onyxonites.”
Ashalea smirked ever so slightly as they looked at Shara’s bewildered face. The Onyxonite didn’t seem so formidable now.
“But I… I…” Shara shook her head in disbelief. “A Guardian? How can this be?”
The seer chuckled. “You have much to learn, Shara, but you possess many skills fit for a Guardian. You do not need Magicka to protect the people of this world, and wisdom is gifted through insight and observation. A strong heart and courage is the foundation of what the Guardians stand for, and you have both. Wouldn’t you agree, wizard?”
Wezlan peered at Shara with grey pi
ercing eyes painstakingly as the seconds ticked by. Eventually, he leaned back, content. “Agreed.”
Ashalea could see the invisible weight fall on Shara’s shoulders. For the first time, the bronzed warrior showed the slightest hint of self-doubt as she tried to come to terms with what she’d just heard. Ashalea wasn’t sure she heard right either. Shara? An Onyxonite, assassin and vigilante, a Guardian?
“I need to think about this and consult my father,” Shara said.
The seer nodded. “I would expect nothing less. You will stop in Shadowvale on the way to Diodon Mountains. You girls can use this time to learn from each other,” she said pointedly, as if sensing their distrust for each other.
“I am sure Ashalea also has many questions about the necklace and Wezlan should talk to the Onyxonites concerning their allegiance.”
Shara was no longer concentrating on the conversation, so she excused herself and took to the stairs, hurtling up them like a hurricane as she made for fresh air and clearer thoughts. The attention turned back to Harrietti; both Ashalea and Wezlan eager to learn more.
“When we arrive to the four destinations, how will we know who the chosen ones are?” Ashalea said.
“Naturally, they are surrounded by, or encourage, greatness,” Harrietti replied. “It is in their blood. Each Guardian possesses something unique, whether that be their skill in combat, the use of Magicka or the ability to lead others, for example. For this reason, they tend to stand out amongst the rest, which is why it’s likely the leaders of these individuals will have them close by.” The seer shrugged. “Others blossom later, after the world has tested them in some way. In this case it is their heart and their courage which will shine bright and you will know within yourself that it is he or she you seek.”
Wezlan nodded and gave Ashalea a reassuring pat on the hand. “All will work out in the end, you’ll see,” he whispered to comfort the less than convinced elf.
Ashalea was relieved that they had found one Guardian, but her elation was quickly snuffed as she thought of the darkness that hunted her. Wezlan seemed to know what she was thinking for he looked at the guard sharply.
“It is time we address what is to be done with this,” he nudged the man with his boot, receiving a hard glare in return.
“The simplest solution would be to just kill him,” Shara called out from the top of the stairs. She was never one to miss a party, so had crept back in shortly after exiting.
Wezlan shook his head. “We are not murderers. Torture to extract information is one thing, but I cannot condone killing a defenceless man. There is no honour in that.”
Shara returned to the circle with hands on both hips defiantly. “If we let him go, he will just crawl back to his master and inform the darkness of everything we’ve discussed.”
The group contemplated their options in silence, bar the grunts of protest from a gagged and very objecting guard. He quieted quickly after Shara drew her knife and held it menacingly close to his throat. He’d grown afraid of its wicked curve, and Ashalea almost felt sorry for him.
Earlier that day he had endured a rather brutish questioning carried out by Shara. Her methods were effective, and he had revealed several points of interest for the party. The man was a hired servant of the darkness, having been recruited after an encounter on the road. The dark creature had intercepted a raid on some unfortunate travellers, killing men, women and children, sparing the lives of the brigands on the condition they work for him. Three took arms and died. The rest quickly agreed.
Their first assignment was to capture the seer and wait for further orders from the darkness’s second in command. A man dressed all in black who had not revealed himself at their first meeting. All the guard knew was that the seer would be collected from their camp and transported to the east somewhere. The rest was all a mystery, and he could say no more, whether he wanted to or not.
Ashalea and Wezlan looked upon the questioning conduct distastefully, but it had been a necessary evil. The man had refused to talk, and it was imperative they understood more about the darkness’ actions. He wanted the seer for a reason, but the question was why.
Did he know that the Guardians’ Magicka was waning? Or did he seek to use the seer to foretell his own future? Whatever it was, Ashalea knew they had to keep the Harrietti from his reach at all costs, and if torturing the guard would help them in any way, so be it. It was clear that Shara had no qualms about torturing or murdering the man. Ashalea supposed it was just another part of Onyxonite life. The woman was a killer. An assassin trained to inflict pain and fulfil her duties to the Order or die trying.
“Wait,” Ashalea said, sitting up straight. “What if he had no memory of what occurred here today? For the last few days?”
“You mean a spell to make him forget?” Shara raised an eyebrow.
“Exactly. He wouldn’t remember anything about the seer or the darkness. We could let him go without a guilty conscience.”
“Mine is perfectly clear,” Shara grumbled.
Ashalea looked to Wezlan who gave her a cheeky grin and nodded. “You know what to do.”
Some time passed since Ashalea had used Magicka and she was a little excited, if not bashful, to do it in front of watchful eyes. Her talent was exceptional, and why shouldn’t it be when your tutor is a wizard? The only wizard in the land.
She walked over to the guard and crouched down. He looked so furious she was sure he would strangle her in an instant if he were free. Ashalea closed her eyes and concentrated, feeling the energy rise from deep within. Holding her hands on his sweaty brow, she called forth the ancient words and felt the air go still as the power washed over him. It was strong, reverberating within her bones and into his. When she finished, he was sound asleep, where he would stay for many hours. He would wake up none the wiser.
Wezlan beamed at Ashalea, and she smiled in return, ever the good student. She had come so far over the years with his training and guidance, but he couldn’t take credit for it all. Wezlan had told her three years ago that her Magicka abilities were powerful, and she had been pleased at the time. Magicka was a genetic gift, but only the strongest minds could harness its powers to the extent Ashalea could.
Shara rolled her eyes at the display and sheathed her knife. “Can we get back to the quest then?”
Ashalea nodded and resumed sitting on the edge of her bed. “She sure is a prickly one,” she whispered to Wezlan.
He smiled back but she could see him cast thoughtful eyes at the olive-skinned girl. Sometimes Ashalea wished she could read his mind. He was probably weighing the odds of her disappearing into the night and returning to Shadowvale or accepting her new duty and doing what was right. She cleared her mind and throat. That was a problem for later.
“Now that our captive is asleep, we can discuss our movements,” Wezlan said. “We will stay another day to organise provisions and a horse for you, Shara. Then we will journey to the Aquafarian Province and through the hidden pass to Windarion. It is five days’ ride.”
“Umm… Are you forgetting that you let your horses go?” Shara said cattily.
“Not at all. I will call them in a moment, and they will wait for us until morning.”
Shara shot a puzzled look to the elf. “Dare I ask?”
Ashalea shrugged. “It’s a Magicka thing.”
They all agreed this was a sound plan and made ready for a night’s rest. Without knowing it, Shara had already accepted her path would, for however long, be walked with the two companions. Perhaps they could even help her find her brother. Working with the elf might not be so bad.
Shara glanced at the seer. “May I speak with you privately?” She cleared her throat and Ashalea and Wezlan made themselves scarce in the room adjacent, though the elf kept a subtle watch, and her ears were on high alert.
Shara eventually broke the silence. “Harrietti, I… I wanted to talk to you about my brother.”
“You wish to know if he’s alive?”
Shara nod
ded in earnest. “More than anything.”
The seer sighed. “Well, it will please you to hear that his body still walks the earth.”
Shara’s face broke into a huge smile. She was obviously close to her sibling. Ashalea studied the woman. She was rather beautiful when the hardness left her eyes and mouth, but the assassin’s smile faltered.
“What do you mean, his body?”
“His body remains the same… but his soul does not.”
“What?” Shara’s eyes narrowed. “How?” She choked out.
“His soul has been poisoned. It is now dark and clouded, and what good remains in him is buried deep within.” Harrietti’s grey eyes fixed on some far-off place. “I fear he may be lost.”
Hysteria rose in Shara’s throat and Ashalea felt a pang of sympathy for the woman. She knew what it felt like to lose the ones you loved. She understood the emptiness, the need to make right something so wrong.
Shara’s frame was shaking. “He can’t be. I won’t give up. There must be a way to bring him back,” she cried.
Her pitch ushered a curious glance from Wezlan, whom Ashalea knew was also trying to spy. Shara glanced at them and they quickly averted their eyes and carried on doing whatever it was you could do when you tried to look busy.
Harrietti shifted her gaze to Shara, staring at her intently. The seer took her hands, feeling the rough callouses etched into the woman’s tanned skin, and peering at the lifelines.
“Maybe you will, child. Maybe you will. Don’t give up hope, it is our most powerful weapon. On this, I have no more insight.”
Tears streaming down her face, Shara thanked the seer for her insight and robotically climbed the stairs, leaving the basement once more.
Catching sight of Shara’s face, Ashalea walked over to the seer and sat down, concern etched in her expression. She didn’t even know the woman, and yet despite their differences, she was already worried about her. She knew how the road of mourning ended.