Rise of the Fallen

by Ivory Autumn

  “No, Andrew,” Ivory whimpered. “Please go—run!”

  “Yes, Andrew, run, run,” all the Barnacles around them mimicked. “Run. RUN!”

  The Barnacle’s voices caused every nerve in Andrew’s body to buzz with pain. His face paled. His hand went instinctively to his sword. Gripping it, he felt a surge of power tingle through his arms. He raised it high, and a bright flash of light cut through the night, causing the Barnacle to let out a motion-freezing cry, as it released Ivory.

  “Run, Ivory!” Andrew screamed, yanking Ivory behind him. Andrew froze as the Barnacle’s thirsty gaze locked on him.

  “You are mine, Andrew,” the thin barnacle hissed. “And your blood is mine, MINE! I can hear your heart beating like a crazed animal, boy.”

  Andrew could hear the raspy breathing of the other Barnacles as they closed in around them, murmuring dark chants.

  The thin Barnacle snapped its long wispy cloak out, catching Andrew’s ankle, yanking him away from Ivory.

  The dark being pulled Andrew into its clutches, and clamped its black, cold, knobby claws around Andrew’s neck. Its hands felt like slimy icicles, like something dead.

  “You are mine,” the Barnacle hissed, lifting Andrew up. “You don't know how long I have waited for this moment. Your blood was promised to me by my lord, The FALLEN. No other elf’s blood would suffice. And now my patience, and my long, long, long, hunger and fasting has been rewarded!”

  “No,” Andrew choked out, “it hasn’t!”

  “Yes,” the Barnacle said, licking its chops, “it has. Ahhh! Your gifts smell so deliciously ripe.”

  Andrew scowled in repulsion and kicked his legs wildly. He whipped out his sword, striking the Barnacle’s arm.

  “The sword!” the Barnacle screamed, dropping Andrew and covering its eyes. “Give it to me,” it cracked its eyes slowly open, and stretched out its arm, reaching its warty fingers towards Andrew, like octopus tentacles. “The sword of Cosmo! Give it to me.”

  “Stay back!” Andrew commanded. “Or I'll strike you again!”

  “I’m hungry, HUNGRY!” the creature moaned. “Do you think that I would let something so simple as a sword deter me from my long awaited meal?”

  Andrew held the sword in front of him. A fierce strength was written on his face. “Touch me, or my friends, and I swear that you will die!” He waved the sword in the Barnacle’s face. The creature let out a loud pain-filled moan. The sword’s light diminished the Barnacle’s features, so that the Barnacle’s face looked dreadfully black, thin, and tubered, with a face like the darkest pit, covered in wispy rags of spider webs. Looking at the Barnacle made Andrew think of a rusty nail, an old empty house, a dead, dry tree, an empty sigh.

  “That sword,” the Barnacle wailed, showing his vicious fangs, and glaring into Andrew’s eyes, “is meant for the heart of the one whose darkness I radiate. It will not harm or have the

  power to destroy me. Why do you think my source of power sent me to destroy you? Ha, ha, ha, hiss.”

  “Liar!”

  The being took a step nearer to Andrew. Its vampire-like fangs dripped with dark slime. It clenched and unclenched its long fingers, staring at Andrew with a chilly gaze.

  “If my sword cannot harm you,” Andrew said. “Then why are you frightened?”

  “Frightened, FRIGHTENED?” the Barnacle screamed, blowing a gust of cold sleet over Andrew. “You can’t even conceive the fear that will be in your heart when I have you in my clutches!”

  “No.” Andrew took a step nearer to the creature, and shook the icy frost from his hair. “Fear never looks its enemy in the eyes. I’m not afraid!”

  “You will be,” the Barnacle hissed, breathing in raspy gusts of air, listening greedily to Andrew's heartbeat, waiting for the right moment.

  The Barnacle unexpectedly let out an ear-piercing snarl, and pounced on Andrew, knocking him to the ground. As Andrew fell, he pointed the sword upward and stabbed the being in the chest. The creature’s face was inches from his. He could smell the foul odor of rot as it breathed on him. The sword lit up the Barnacle’s dark chest so Andrew could see every part of the dark creature. Every unfathomable hole and crevasse lit up, like a crag-filled canyon, when lightning flashes over it.

  The Barnacle screamed, trying to yank the sword from its chest, as it stood. “It can do nothing, nothing to me!”

  Andrew fought against the Barnacle, and pushed the sword further into the Barnacle’s chest. The hilt became suddenly so cold, that Andrew struggled keep hold of it. An icy numbness crept up through his sword, into his hand and up his arm, until he felt like his arm had turned to a slab of ice. He dropped the sword. His arm felt limp and cold like an arm on a dead corpse.

  “Foolish brat!” the Barnacle howled. “You are nothing, nothing but my meal!”

  Andrew’s mind whirled. He thought of the diamond flower seeds that Orion had given him. Why hadn't he thought of them sooner? He grasped the bag of seeds with his good hand, and quickly opened it. The Barnacle screeched and wrenched the bag from him, causing hundreds of the diamond seeds to spill out onto the ground.

  “No!” Andrew cried, reaching out to save them.

  “I am hungry, HUNGRY!” the Barnacle howled, kicking the bag away from Andrew.

  Andrew lunged for the bag, but the creature lashed out at him with the speed of a striking snake, and sank its sharp fangs deep into Andrew's torso.

  Andrew let out agonizing cry as the Barnacle’s fangs pierced his flesh like two black icicles. The Barnacle clenched Andrew in its jaws, like a wolf with a pheasant in its mouth. The Barnacle stood stock still, and closed its eyes as if it was enjoying every moment of Andrew's pain.

  Andrew tried to struggle, but as he did, the Barnacle only dug its sharp fangs deeper into Andrew’s body. Andrew gasped out for help, but only an appalling gurgle escaped his lips.

  It felt as if the Barnacle was sucking the life out of him, drinking it up. He could hear an odd sucking sound, as if the thing was drinking through a straw. With every passing minute, he felt colder, lighter, weaker. And with every minute that passed for the Barnacle, its thin body grew plumper, warmer, stronger.

  Andrew couldn't think straight. The pain was horrendous. It felt as if the Barnacle’s teeth were sending little sharp knives into his bloodstream, and they in turn were slicing and cutting, and pulling every part of him apart and then pulling it out, leaving a horrible empty coldness in its place. His heartbeat slowed, but the pain only increased. He felt so cold, so empty. A loud sobbing sound, awakened his dizzy mind, and his gaze met Ivory's. Her big green eyes, glistened with tears, as she looked at him. Her lips were pressed together into a tight line, her hair disheveled. An agonizing stab of sympathy washed over him. The pain it caused him to look into

  her eyes was worse than the fangs of the Barnacle. “Ivory...it’s...it’s...okay...” he gasped, stopping short as the Barnacle clamped its jaws tighter around his body, and his ribs cracked. He flinched, and filled the air with one last painful scream. His vision dimmed as an arctic grip encompassed him, driving him into a wasteland of a thousand winters. It was a coldness that froze that sound that came from his lips. It froze smell, froze taste, froze sight. All was bitter, stiff, empty, and forsaken. Gusts of biting wind swirled around him, blowing snow into his face, like hard grains of sand eating away at his skin, until all was ice. The frightening blizzard of a sunless world enveloped him.

  As Andrew’s body went limp, a tremor rocked the ground. All the trees surrounding Andrew and the Barnacle shed their leaves and died, causing a delighted howl to rise up from the Barnacles.

  A low moan rose up from the ground. In the trees’ death, the diamond seeds that had fallen onto the ground grew and blossomed into full glory. They sparked radiantly although it was darkest night. The bright, glittering flowers caused the now plump Barnacle that held Andrew in its clutches, to tremble and quake. Overhead, black clouds formed, and thunder rumbled. A blinding white flash of lightning lit up th
e sky and hit a dead tree not a foot away, from the plump Barnacle. The tree's dry bark exploded and popped as orange flames licked up its trunk.

  The Barnacle holding Andrew jumped back in terror. It howled in fear as the lightning struck all around it. The host of lurking Barnacles scattered as little white sparks from the lightning, in the form of flying doves soared around, and around their heads, like fluttering leaves, and then disappeared. Yet the Barnacle holding Andrew did not flinch.

  There was another blinding flash of lightning in front of the plump Barnacle. The lightning lit up the Barnacle’s body, exposing everything beneath its thick cloak of spider webs. It was so startled that it let Andrew’s limp body fall from its mouth. The Barnacle made a move to flee into the wood, but turned back. It reached to grab up Andrew's fallen sword. But, before it could retrieve the weapon, another flash of lightning hit the sword, causing a flash of light so bright that the Barnacle screamed and fell back. Blinding spark doves flitted about the Barnacle's face. The brilliant light lit up the Barnacle’s black frame again, its body fully exposed. His body looked more filled out and fat, than before. His once thin cheeks were full, his bony arms looked strong, and his orange eyes glowed bright yellow.

  “I AM full!” the Barnacle screamed, glaring at Andrew’s lifeless body in triumph. It cast a dark look at Ivory cowering in the shadows. A flash of lightning abruptly blocked its view of the girl. It turned and fled, leaving the sword, and Ivory, behind.

  When the Barnacles had gone, the lightning stopped, and a peaceful quiet settled over the forest.

  ~~~~

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Coral

  Ivory sobbed over Andrew's body, like a child, her tears turning into jewels of ice, as they hit Andrew's cold face. She reached out to grasp his hand in hers, but the familiar warmth was gone. An icy hardness had taken its place. She sobbed harder, thinking of the harsh words she had spoken to him when he tried to free her from the Foglocker. Andrew had given his life for hers. Why had he come back for her?

  A branch snapped. She jumped and glanced over her shoulder, scanning the dark wood beyond the flaming trees that had been struck by lightning. The trees popped and crackled as flames devoured their wood, and the smell of burning logs filled the air. The flaming trees looked like orange pillars, in a celestial cathedral. Sprouting up around Andrew’s body, in uneven rows, were the most beautiful plants Ivory had ever seen. Hundreds of jeweled flowers, with glittering green leaves grew, and unfolded before her eyes. They sparkled like fallen stars that had found a place on earth.

  Ivory closed her eyes, breathing in the intoxicating smell of the jeweled flowers. They had the aroma of home, and peace. . The smell made her feel incredibly tired.

  Through the smoke of the burning trees, she saw Freddie, Lancedon, Talic, and Gogindy. They stood there for one long second, taking in the strange scene---the glowing embers of the trees, the sparkling flowers, and Ivory, who was bent over Andrew's crumpled form.

  “Over here,” Ivory cried out to them. “Please hurry!” Freddie reached her first and she hugged him into a sobbing grasp. Freddie let go of Ivory and knelt down by Andrew, and wept, tenderly brushing away the gathering frost from his friend’s face.

  “Is he alive?” Freddie murmured, in a horrified voice, as Lancedon and the others crowed in around him. They all bent down and touched Andrew's face. It was cold as ice, and white frost had gathered on Andrew's hair.

  “Oh, Andrew!” Talic cried, tears spilling onto Andrew’s cold, pale body, turning to ice as they hit Andrew's skin.

  Andrew was dead, they were sure of it. Nobody could be so cold and still be alive. Andrew looked deathly skinny---his face looked thin and drawn. His eyes were closed, and his skin was as white as carved stone.

  Lancedon looked up, hearing a low, mournful sigh. It was as if the remaining trees were whispering to one another, sorrowful tones. All who heard it knew what it meant. The trees were grieving Andrew’s death.

  Freddie touched Andrew’s cheek, afraid that any minute Andrew would turn into a pile of snow and melt into the ground before their eyes.

  Lancedon pushed Freddie and Talic aside and ripped Andrew’s shirt open, shivering, as he touched Andrew's skin. He groaned when he saw the gaping fang marks that scarred his friend’s body. He touched the skin around the wounds, where frozen blood oozed. Andrew’s chest was so cold that it caused ice to gather on his fingers. He held an ear to Andrew’s chest, listening.

  There was no heartbeat.

  “You can’t die!” Lancedon cried, pressing his ear more firmly to Andrews’s skin. He wondered if perhaps his ear would be frozen to Andrew’s chest, but he didn't care. He stayed with his ear glued to Andrew's chest patiently waiting, and listening.

  “Is…is…he alive?” Gogindy whimpered.

  Lancedon turned to answer Gogindy, but his face turned deathly pale. He trembled, gasping, as an icy pain stabbed him in the heart. It was a kind of pain he'd never experienced before. It was a cold cutting pain, fierce, and desperate. He struggle for breath, nearly collapsing, but Freddie caught him, holding him until it subsided.

  Somehow, in that instant, Lancedon knew he and Andrew were both connected, more than he had first supposed. Their missions were so intertwined, their fates so vital to one another that Lancedon could feel part of him dying as well.

  “Is he?” Gogindy asked. “Is he...gone?”

  Lancedon nodded. “I can only guess that he is.” He straightened, picked up Andrew's cold body, and whistled for his horse. Before he had taken a step, a bright flash of lightning raced across the sky and a low rumble of thunder filled the air. Everyone stood watching in awe as a stunning woman dressed in a shimmering white-yellow dress walked gracefully through the smoke of the smoldering trees and stopped in front of Lancedon.

  A warm breeze hit him in the face as she neared him. Her presence warmed him so much, that he hardly felt Andrew's cold, icy skin against his.

  The woman’s gaze locked onto Andrew's cold figure, her eyes filling with a deep sadness. She reached out and gently touched the boy’s cheek. “All trees mourn for you, and the very stars weep. Oh child of light, your light cannot go out so easily.”

  Lancedon speechlessly gazed at her, with wondering. “Who are you?”

  “I am Coral, keeper of lightning. I came to help as quickly as I could.”

  “Is he alive?”

  “He is a half star,” the woman murmured.

  “What does that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that every star has an afterglow, even after its light source has faded, the time it takes for that light to reach us is still exists. While that light lasts, we may still be able to rekindle his life.” She smiled mysteriously and pressed her strawberry-colored lips against Andrew's cold forehead. Where her lips touched, the skin turned a healthy pink. “Let me hold him,” she said.

  Lancedon nodded, hypnotized by her warm gaze, and gently placed Andrew in her arms. Just as her warm skin touched Andrew's, the frosty sheen on Andrew's skin melted, and spread out over his body. But the cold frost on his hair and eyelashes remained.

  “Though the gates of death, and darkness, try to hold you, you will conquer them,” she whispered. She breathed a warm breath of air over his face and melted the frost that stubbornly stayed on his hair, lips, and eyelashes. She hugged the boy closer to her, and then set him gently on the ground. “Awake!” she commanded, raising her soft, brown eyes upwards. She clapped her hands and a bolt of lightning flashed over them. The lightning hit a tree in front of them and showered them in little, white-dove sparks. The doves flitted over their heads and drifted down onto the cold, lifeless form of Andrew, melting like snow over his body.

  Gradually, the smallest bit of color came to Andrew's cheeks, and he let out a heart-wrenching cry of agony and started to shiver uncontrollably.

  “He's alive!” Freddie cried.

  “If you wish him to remain that way,” the woman said, “we must hurry. The Barnacle lef
t its fangs embedded into the boy’s wounds, as a torturous way of killing him. It looks as if the Barnacle drank its fill. The longer the Barnacle drinks, the longer he draws or gleans the gifts and the life of the elf.”

  Gogindy whimpered and his big, blue eyes filled with tears. “Please, save him.”

  The woman smiled kindly at Gogindy. Her face glowed with a warm light, and her hair sparkled like liquid glitter. “I'll help him as much as I can.” In her eyes was a kindness and fierceness like that of lightning. “He is still so cold. So, very cold.”

  “If Rhapsody were here,” Freddie mourned. “He’d know what to do.”

  “Even Rhapsody,” the woman replied, “could not undo what the Barnacles have done.” She whistled a long, low, musical whistle, and a unicorn with mighty white, wings and a long horn gleaming like an iridescent sword, came prancing into the clearing. It brought along with it their horses that they’d lost when the Barnacles had started their chase.

  “We must take him to Boreen,” she cried, getting onto the unicorn’s back. “Quickly, hand the boy to me!”

  Lancedon handed her Andrew’s convulsing form.

  “At Boreen,” she said, “there's a man named Drogan. He may know how to heal him, if we are not too late. Follow me, if you will.”

  She grasped Lancedon's hand fervently, and gazed into his eyes. “All is not as lost as you think.” A dizzying warmth flooded round him and he smiled in thanks. Then she swiftly turned, and departed.

  The others followed her as the unicorn galloped gracefully ahead of them through the wood and into an open field, where it unfolded its beautiful wings and took flight above them. Its great white wings flapped rhythmically through the air parting the thunderous clouds. The moonshine bathed the unicorn's wings in silver light and outlined its strong body.