Daegan awoke from yet another restless night’s sleep filled with dreams. The first, a repeat of his parents’ deaths. The only difference was a focus on their faces. Then the picture would zoom out and he would try to see the faces of those attacking them, but still to no avail. Before he had run from the carriage, the dream showed his father giving him his ring once again. Though blurry, the picture had focused in on the ring for longer than the moment had actually been. Unsure why, Daegan studied the picture, but could not understand. It ended with watching each of the arrows fly in slow motion, hitting their intended targets and dropping them to the ground. His parents’ horrifying expressions were forever etched into not only his heart, but also his mind.
The second dream was filled with hot flames engulfing not only the little cottage in the shifter camp, but sweeping through the entire camp, burning and destroying everything and everyone within it while Daegan stood by and watched from the sidelines, not doing anything to help. He destroyed it all until finally the flames began to engulf him as well. Though the fire did not hurt him, he stood there letting it feed from his energy until he raised his arms out in surrender. Only then did he absorb the flames within him, allowing them to become a part of him, the flames igniting in his eyes until the darkness consumed him.
Even within his dreams he had heard a voice, a soft yet commanding feminine voice, whispering through the smoke, “Daegan.”
Over and over he heard her speaking his name. The tone in her voice and the command in her words ignited the light within him. He felt a peace and a calm that he had never felt before.
“Daegan, this darkness is not yours.”
His dreams shifted with a cleansing fog that swept around him bringing a refreshing mist that cooled him from the inside out. There was a hint of a floral scent intertwined with the breeze. He wanted to relax and be wrapped within it, but he would not.
The third dream was different from any he had had before. The girl with the long, dark reddish-purple hair he had dreamed of before graced him with her presence once again. She took him to places he believed to still be within Alandria; one inside a mountain made of light and another appearing to be a dry, cracked wasteland dotted with sparse vegetation. Daegan could not hear her or understand what it was they were doing, but it seemed they were traveling with purpose.
The strangest part, however, was when it appeared they traveled into the past. There were moments he believed he was watching history he had learned about as a boy. They were not physically a part of it, but simply watching. The thing that stood out to him the most was when she touched his hand, and Daegan could swear he could actually feel her touch. There was a spark of energy that ignited when they touched. He could see it. The feelings he experienced he could not even describe. He felt alive, like the warrior and the man he was made to be. Something about this girl centered him... completed him. All he wanted was to protect her, and that scared him... especially now.
After he was cleaned and dressed for the morning, he met Halister in the kitchen for the morning meal. There was a huge dining room where the family took their other meals, but Daegan and Hal liked to eat in the small eating area built right off the kitchen.
“Remind me why we eat in here when there is a lovely dining table with comfortable chairs for sitting in the other room,” Hal said around a mouth full of the piece of fruit he was devouring.
Daegan shrugged. “The other room is big and empty.” He looked around at the bustling staff right around the corner yet still within eyesight, listened to the clanking of pots and pans, smelled the rich aromas of some kind of stew they were cooking for later, and relished in the familiar tones with which they spoke to each other. “This... this feels more comfortable.”
Hal paused for a moment then nodded. “It’s true.”
Ever since Daegan was little, he had liked being able to blend into the backgrounds of rooms with a lot going on. When it was just him or just a couple of the family, it was too quiet and too easy to be made into the center of attention. In the kitchen, the cooks and the staff all took turns coming over to check on him and say hello; they were friendly, but not intrusive. They kept a bit more to themselves when Halister joined him, but still it was nice.
Hal finished his food, stretching back to recline in his chair. With hands laced behind his head and his feet crossed at the ankles, he was the personification of relaxation. Except Daegan knew him too well. He could see the tell in Hal’s features, the slightest tick in the skin around his eyes and the calm patterned breathing, that told Daegan he was deep in thought—something many did not think Hal could accomplish.
“While it may not be obvious to others, I see there is definitely something bothering you, my friend.” Hal continued to study Daegan, who gave little to no reaction. “I know if you wanted to talk about it, you would have. I’m not pressing, just reminding you that I am here if you need me. I get the feeling from Rheina that she is somehow involved, but she is keeping her distance as well.”
Daegan nodded while gauging Hal’s response even though he knew Hal to be genuine. “There is much going on that I do not even understand or want to bring you into, but I fear I may need you in the future.”
“Well, gee, thank you for the vote of confidence,” Halister laughed out while leaning forward.
“I have full confidence in your abilities, my brother, it is simply your involvement in something dark that I do not wish upon you. I know not how far the darkness travels in Alandria at this time, but beware it is closer than either of us have imagined.” Daegan wiped his hands down his face in weariness and frustration.
“There is great weight upon you, I see it more and more every day. I only want to be the brother you have always been to me. Let me help if I can.”
Daegan paused and looked straight at Hal, nodding his appreciation. “I know... that is what worries me.” Daegan gave a brief smile. After a few more moments of silent eating, the two Ferrishyn walked out the side entrance of the castle into the bright light of the new day.
“Did you hear about the fire down at the shifter camp? Killed that adorable little twined family.”
Daegan stiffened at Hal’s question. “I did.” His voice rasped.
“Tragic. I think I might go see what I can do to help down there today. You want to come?” Hal questioned innocently.
“I was down yesterday, but Maleina is sending me out to deliver a message to Adettlyn. I am on my way to the stables.”
“All right. Safe travels, man. I would go with you if I could. We could stop in at the Drunken Boar, have a meal, visit the locals,” Hal said with a wink. Daegan thought there was a particular local that Hal was most interested in visiting, but he did not want to pry.
“Better that you do not this time. She is sending a small squad with me as we are to meet with the acting king on a matter. It might get ugly.” Daegan smirked, but he honestly did not want Halister subjected to the royal. Daegan had his suspicions about the man sitting on the throne in the once beautiful city of Adettlyn, in the territory of the Elves. He had no issues with the Elves themselves, but this man was neither wise, nor good.
“Even more the reason for me to go! I always miss the fun stuff.” He winked at Daegan.
“You have got to cease with that incessant winking you do, some of the warriors may get the wrong idea from you.”
Hal, aghast, held his hand over his heart as if wounded. “Did you just make a joke? I think YOU may give the warriors the wrong idea.”
“HA!” Daegan burst out uncharacteristically loud and Hal patted him on the back laughing as well.
“It is good to hear you laugh. All is not lost with you then?” Hal asked rhetorically.
Something about it hit Daegan in the gut that Hal thought that he could be possibly lost. He was happy to have Hal with him. They grasped arms and pulled each other in for a brotherly embrace, beating each other on the backs as warriors would.
“Until we meet again...” Hal said as he turn
ed to head down the hill toward the shifter camp.
“Until then,” Daegan replied and turned the opposite direction toward the stables to ready his horse.
✠✠✠
A short time later, Daegan was ready with his large black steed, Mayfair, as he led her out of the stables into the field that would lead them down to the main route out of Elnye. He awaited four other riders from his squad that Maleina deemed necessary for his protection in case things went badly along the way. He believed that they might be there for alternative reasons but for what he could not yet voice—it was just an inner feeling he had in the center of who he was, a feeling he paid attention to especially now.
The four other riders led their horses out of the stables headed in his direction, all prepared for their brief journey. They were all geared up in the dark brown traveling clothes customary for the warriors to wear. The material was thicker than what the other Faeries might normally wear to keep them warm and even protected out on the open terrain. The shirts they wore were of a similar material to linen, maybe even entwined with cotton, which the seamstresses of Elnye made for them. The material was wrapped about them in multiple layers to keep them warm, but also to provide hidden pockets for small weapons. It was actually quite efficient, as were their mobile arsenals that each carried with them. Lastly, they all were draped with a heavy cloak or some kind of riding coat to help shield from the winds that could sweep across the plains.
“Master Daegan, we are prepared to accompany you to Adettlyn. Is there anything more we need before we leave?” The rider named Kâlin stepped forward, inclining his head to Daegan as was respectful for one in the service to the Paladin, especially in his position as an elite and a member of the family. It rubbed Daegan the wrong way.
“No, we should depart before our daylight begins to disappear.” Daegan mounted his horse and the others followed his lead. “Our journey is a day’s ride and we will need to make camp or find a place for the night in order to return tomorrow.” He looked over each of the men. “If there is nothing else, let us ride.” He and his black horse took off along the main path from the castle down the hill. The riders and their horses followed closely behind him.
CHAPTER TEN
After several hours of monotonous riding through the plains of Feraánmar they finally were closing in on the Forest of Lumei, which surrounded the border between territories. The horses, much more sensitive to the things that remain unseen, stopped abruptly before entering the forest. Slightly spooked, the riders tried to regain control of their steeds.
Though Daegan’s horse was slightly unsettled, he had been through there multiple times and had grown more comfortable with the eerie feelings that resided in this forest. The Forest of Lumei was an old one; in fact, one of the oldest in Alandria. There were Ancients, trees also known as the NaNai, that dwelt there—Daegan knew this firsthand. Though there were not many of them, the trees were originally used to transport and protect some of the ancient magic at the inception of Alandria from their previous home.
“Steady your horses, we ride through,” Kâlin, leader of the squad, commanded, then looked to Daegan.
Daegan nodded, then slowly but steadily began to lead the flighty bunch of horses through the old, creaky forest. There was a path that he and others used, but it was not used often enough to keep it completely clear of ground cover. Mosses and vines quickly grew up around it, spilling onto the path itself and creating some obstacles that needed to be paid attention to as they rode. The trees varied in size and kind, but were all very much alive and deeply rooted. In this part of the forest, they were not yet as thick as the center, but they were tall nonetheless. Reaching toward the sky, they seemed to be in competition to breach the thickening canopy seeking the nutrients offered by the light.
It grew darker the further in they rode. Finally reaching the point on the path that was no longer safe for the horses to be ridden, the riders dismounted and led them through on foot. The forest was dangerous to those that took it for granted or to those that did not heed the warnings from the stories told of the old forests. Daegan did neither of those, and the forest seemed to respect him for it.
One of the riders spoke quietly from the back of the group. “I do not like this forest. It makes me feel uneasy, like someone is watching us.”
Another of the riders, this one more arrogant, huffed at the other rider, “They are merely trees. What can they do to you? And if there is more than trees in this forest, we are more than a match for anything that comes our way.”
Daegan’s shoulders tightened and his face winced. He began looking around slowly and reaching for the hilt of the dagger at his waist.
“I am not afraid,” spoke the first man again, “but I am also not foolish. There is something out there. Do you not feel it, Master Daegan?”
“I do. Be on guard. There is more to this ancient forest than you are possibly aware.” He continued leading his horse forward, not even looking back to see the other men’s reaction. There was not a moment to let his guard down, and he had no intention of doing so. He could feel the tension and anxiety in the men behind him grow. It was distracting only if he let it be. The one he was most concerned about was that of the outspoken Ferrishyn whose name slipped his mind.
They walked for several moments more before the wind began to pick up. It swirled around them, scratching at their faces with its invasiveness. Sweeping through the trees, the wind howled as it rent over and over sliced by the trees, strong and sturdy in their stance.
Then Daegan felt it. The energy of magic began swelling not far from where they were. It was a magic he recognized, but not one often felt. In fact, he hadn’t felt it this strong since the time he had found Andreinna. Taking a deep breath, he held out his hands in supplication and a statement of friendliness.
“What are you doing?” one of the riders shouted to be heard above the winds as he made his way closer to Daegan.
“There is something out there!” shouted another one as he pulled out his sword.
“Hold steady, men,” Kâlin commanded as he searched the forest. “What is out there, Daegan?”
“Do you know the stories of the NaNai?” he asked without taking his eyes off the forest around them.
“You cannot be serious? Those are stories told to children,” stated the arrogant warrior.
In awe, Kâlin looked to Daegan. “They are real? I had heard stories, but never encountered anyone who has had dealings with the NaNai. How do we proceed?”
“I suggest you put away your weapons. They see you as a threat. It is an honor for them to allow us to pass through Lumei. Remember, this is their forest.” Daegan eyed the arrogant warrior sternly. “We keep moving forward.”
“That is your suggestion?!” the warrior spat. Under his breath, he continued, “To be unarmed in the face of an unseen opponent! You are weak, as I supposed you might be, hiding behind the name of the Paladin.”
Daegan flinched. He clenched his jaw and flexed his fists, talking himself down, This is not the time. Get through the forest.
“Stand down, Fromíl.” Kâlin tried to rein in the rider. “You are going to do as he says like an obedient soldier,” he commanded more strongly.
The three other riders were silently tense, but continued to watch the forest for any signs of danger. All had put away their weapons as Daegan had said, but kept a hand ready to grab them at a moment’s notice. Daegan began chanting in a low hum words that were barely distinguished, but obviously in another language than that of the Faeries. It almost sounded like singing. The meaning of the words was simple. They meant surrender and that they were not there to harm, but to protect; ally, not foe.
The bickering had stopped between the warriors, but before anyone could say anything more, there was a creaking noise in the distance, but not too far away from them. And then there was a snapping sound directly behind them followed by a short slithering sound. Before they could react, several tree roots uprooted themselves and qu
ickly entangled themselves around the arrogant warrior—Fromíl—and jerked him off his feet, sending him crashing to the forest floor. He was then ripped through some of the underbrush. Thorns, rocks, and sticks tore at his clothing and flesh. His screams filled the darkened late afternoon sky under the canopy. It happened so quickly no one had time to save him even if they had tried. Almost as one, the warriors began to react, withdrawing their swords and daggers.
“No. Put them away unless you want to be next,” Daegan warned them. “There was nothing we could do for him.” He meant it, and turned to keep walking. “Someone will need to grab his horse.”
The other Ferrishyn, though battle and death were nothing new to them, stood there in shock as Daegan got a short ways ahead of them.
Snapping to it quickest, Kâlin issued the command that brought them back to the present. “I do not wish to remain here any longer than necessary. Let us move.” Grabbing the reins of the horses, they clipped along at a brisk pace trying to catch up.
Death was nothing new to Daegan either, but it was still challenging to watch when not completely necessary. A statement was being made, this he knew. He continued to chant his low-toned words at almost a whisper, but he knew the Ancients could hear them. He could feel their energy. It ran deep throughout their roots under the ground. This entire forest was connected by it. It felt old and ancient, wise and suspicious. There was also deep anger and an underlying restlessness. However, there was recognition as well. This forest knew Daegan and trusted him, but there was a time long ago when a journey through these woods went far differently.
✠✠✠
He had passed through with a squad not much larger than the one he had presently. The magic and the anger he had felt upon entering were so strong it had almost crippled him from continuing through, but he had a duty to fulfill.
There had been a scream from a woman that ripped through his soul. It called to him, to something inside him. He ran, tearing through the trees and the branches until he got close to where the screams came from. His squad followed as closely behind him as they could. Without sound, he crept closer, unseen. He turned back to them, cautioning them not to make a sound. There was a strong wind here in this dense part of the forest, but to him it did not feel dark, instead intensely angry. Leaning on one of the trees he was using to sneak behind, he felt the tree—its emotions, its pain, its anger for retribution. Daegan had jerked back, startled; he had never felt that much coming from the trees before. He knew they were living beings and respected them as such, but this was different. It was alive.
Daegan (The Age of Alandria: A Companion Novella) Page 7