by Sam Ferguson
“She waits for us at the banquet hall.”
Hairen raised her brow and looked down her nose at Merriam. “How long has she been there?”
Merriam shrugged. “Several hours, I suppose.”
The two of them quickened their pace. They found Silvi seated cross-legged on the floor near the entrance to the banquet hall. Her head was tilted back against the wall and her mouth was slack. Hairen could just hear Silvi’s rhythmic breathing. The old witch walked over and nudged the young, raven-haired witch with her foot.
Silvi’s eyes shot open and she jumped up to her feet. “I apologize,” she said. “I must have dozed off.”
Hairen shrugged and motioned for Silvi to stand next to Merriam. “I will go in alone.” The old witch walked into the banquet hall, pausing at the entrance and peering inside. The room was dark. None of the torches burned inside. Hairen held out her palm and conjured a white orb of light to illuminate her path. She stepped into the room slowly.
“You have come to mock me,” a voice hissed from the dark.
Hairen’s heart skipped a beat. This was not the voice of the boy she had left lying on the floor last night. There was power here now. A dark power. Goosebumps ran along her forearms and she drew the cloak in tighter around herself. “I have not come to mock,” she replied. With a nod of her head she commanded her orb of light to fly farther into the room.
The orb sailed in to hover over the head of the table. A spattering of dried blood dotted the slab floor and streaked across the front of the table, but Eldrik was not there. The light then moved onward, swerving left and right to chase away the shadows and allow Hairen to see the room.
“Why not come into the light?” Hairen asked. “Our guests have travelled far to see you become the new patriarch.”
“Patriarch?” the voice echoed. “I am no patriarch.” Something hard scraped along the stone near the back of the room. Hairen held a hand to her ears, fighting off the piercing screech. “What have you done to me?” the voice hissed.
Hairen walked on the left of the table, keeping her eyes fixed on the small radius of light around the orb. “I have only helped you,” Hairen answered. “I helped you unlock your potential.”
The orb of light winked out. Hairen reached forward and attempted to conjure another light, but she stopped when a hot, fetid breath washed over the left side of her face. Something sharp dragged along the inside of her palm, almost splitting her skin. The old witch held still, not wanting to provoke him.
“You were as a caterpillar,” Hairen said. “I have helped you make the transformation into your true nature.”
The sharp claw pulled back from her hand and she heard a low growl from the left. “Very well then,” the voice hissed. “Look upon me now, and tell me if I am the butterfly you expected.”
Hairen conjured a light. This time she found the spell worked effortlessly and the entire room was washed in bright, white light. She looked to her left and almost stumbled over backward. Had it not been for the table, she most certainly would have fallen to the floor. “By Hammenfein’s fires,” she exclaimed with a hand clutching at her throat.
There, next to her stood not the boy, but a large beast. He stood easily head and shoulders taller than any man Hairen had ever seen. His young, supple skin replaced with gray, cracked scales almost resembling the look of a crocodile. His nose had fallen away, as had much of the flesh around his face, leaving only a skull with elongated, sharp fangs. A pair of leathery, pointy ears protruded out underneath a rim of bony bumps and miniature horns along the top of his head. Several long, slightly curved spikes protruded up from his shoulders. His arms bulged with muscles larger than a man’s leg. His massive chest was crested with a mat of white fur over his leathery scales. His legs were as thick as tree trunks. His feet now had three pointed fore toes with a long claw protruding from the heel. The beast hissed and flexed a mighty pair of wings.
“Well, witch, what do you say now?” he growled.
Hairen slowly knelt before him and bowed her head. “The night has bestowed you with great power,” she said. “I pledge the allegiance of my coven to you.”
Merriam walked into the room next and knelt a few yards behind Hairen. “The master of the night has come,” she said as she bowed her head.
The beast rushed forward reached down and snatched Hairen by the throat, jerking her up off the ground so that her feet dangled in front of him. “Change me back!” he howled.
Hairen, barely able to breathe, struggled and kicked her legs. Merriam fell back and scooted away on her rump. It was Silvi who ran into the room next.
“No, Eldrik, don’t do it!” she pleaded. She ran up to the beast and put her hands on his arms. “Release her,” Silvi said.
The beast looked down to Silvi. “Look what she has done,” he said.
“You are beautiful,” Silvi said as she reached up and caressed the side of his face. “Absolutely magnificent.”
The beast slowly set Hairen down again and backed away. “You would want me to remain like this?”
Silvi shook her head. “You don’t have to be like this all the time,” she said. Silvi stepped in closer to him and smiled. “You decide when to take this form and when to take your human form. We will teach you how to control it.”
“But first you will need a name,” Hairen said, coughing and rubbing her throat.
“I have a name,” he said.
“You have a human name,” Silvi said. “But to use your new power you must take on a new name as well. A name that only you and Hairen shall know.” Silvi gestured to the old witch. “This way she can use it to help you advance in your power.”
The beast shook his head. “No,” he said. “I will share this name only with you,” he told Silvi. “If anyone here is to train me, it will be you.” Silvi looked back to Hairen. The old witch folded her arms across her chest and glared at the young witch.
“Either that, or you change me back,” the beast growled.
“Very well,” Hairen said. “Come Merriam, let’s go.”
Silvi averted her eyes to the floor as the other two witches stormed out.
“I want to become myself again,” the beast said.
Silvi stroked his arm. “As soon as you have a new name, you will have the ability to change back.” She motioned for him to sit upon the table. He moved to the granite slab and sat upon it.
“All I need is a name?” he asked.
Silvi nodded. “It is a name that reflects your power, your innermost self.”
“And what else will it do, besides allow me to change form?”
Silvi started to shrug. “It has a few other uses.”
He reached out and grasped her forearm. “What other uses?” Silvi’s eyes shot wide and she took a step back, pulling herself free from his talon-like claws.
“Whoever knows your name can summon you to them, or force you to change into this form.”
“So, you will be able to control me?” he said.
“Only that much,” Silvi said quickly. “You will retain your free will. Knowing your name does not allow anyone to control you, only to summon you or have you reveal your true form.”
“Can you summon me from anywhere?” he asked.
“No, it has limits. We can discuss those later on.” She stepped toward him again and put her arm back on his. “For now just know that this form gives you power. You now have the power you need to crush House Lokton, and all other enemies of House Cedreau.” She smiled her disarming smile again and looked deep into his eyes. “You also have the power to lead this coven. You are the first shadowfiend to come to this coven in a long time. The other warlocks do not possess half of your potential. There will come a day when you could rival the Keeper of Secrets, and perhaps even a dragon someday.”
The beast nodded. “Then, how do we choose a name?”
Silvi slid her hand up his arm and moved it over his rough, scaly skin to the patch of fur on his chest. There she flattened her pal
m and felt his heartbeat. She closed her eyes. “Your power is strong, and dark as the night.” Silvi spread her fingers and then pulled away. “Your name shall be Lyvin’dechrn.”
“Lyvin’dechrn,” the beast repeated. As the name fell from his mouth the air grew heavy and thick. The gray, cracked skin regained its color and youthful firmness. The horns on his shoulders shrank back until they disappeared inside once more. The tingling sensation that came over him felt as though thousands of live bees were crawling on his body, humming and buzzing as they restored his natural frame. There was no pain, only the loud humming as he transformed. Within a few moments he stood eye to eye with Silvi.
“From now on you do not need to speak your name to transform,” Silvi said as she took his hand in hers. “You need only to concentrate on it in your mind.”
Eldrik nodded. “Can’t I use magic in this form?” he asked.
Silvi smiled and stroked his hand. “Of course,” she said. “It’s just that you will not be as strong in this form. To attain mastery would take several decades, which is time that we do not have.”
“So, I drank the other man’s power in order to progress faster?” he asked.
“Faster and better,” Silvi responded. “Even after you have mastered the arcane in your human form, you will always be stronger in your true form. That is why you must always remember your name. It is the key by which you can unlock your true potential.”
Eldrik sat silently for a moment. “Can I absorb more power?” he asked.
Silvi grinned wider. “Actually, you can,” she said. “First you will need to learn the ritual spell, but after that you can absorb more power in your true form. I will teach you, if you like.”
Eldrik nodded. “If I am to restore my father’s house, then I want to be able to crush his enemies.”
Silvi patted his hand. “Come, we must introduce you to the others now.”
“But I have already met them,” Eldrik said.
Silvi shook her head. “They met the boy last night who was aspiring to become a warlock. Now they will meet the shadowfiend, your true form. Then, and only then, will they swear allegiance to you.”
“I will not tell them my name,” Eldrik said. “I will not allow anyone else to summon me.”
Silvi shook her head and moved her hand to his cheek. “Eldrik, I would not dream of it. Only I shall know your name, as I am the one who gave it to you. I will use it only to aid you in your training. No one else will ever hear me utter it.”
Eldrik nodded. “Then what will the others call me?”
Silvi regarded him curiously. “What would you want them to call you?”
“I do not want them to call me Eldrik, for that is the name my father gave me. While I may align with the others to crush my enemies, I do not think it would be good for the world to know me by my real name.”
Silvi nodded. “That is wise of you,” she noted. “It would indeed be better to keep our alliance secret for the time being.
“I will be known as Aparen,” he said decisively.
Silvi narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to the side. “Aparen?” she echoed.
He nodded. “In my studies there was a Tarthun warlord by that name. After Aparen’s uncle murdered his father and took his mother as a slave, Aparen gathered several clans together and crushed his uncle, killing every last one of his descendants.”
“I know the name,” Silvi said softly.
“Aparen built a mighty empire,” he continued. “One that still rules the lands east of the mountains today.” He rose to his feet. “From this moment forward, no one shall ever utter the name Eldrik. I am now to be known as Aparen.”
Silvi stood before him and kissed his cheek. “As you wish, Aparen.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Erik slowed his horse as he and Braun emerged from the forest and entered onto Lokton lands. He leaned back in the saddle and watched the forest give way to the cottages and store houses that made up the small, nameless village that rested on Lokton lands. Erik smiled as they passed through the village. He knew that everyone here was a friend of House Lokton. Many of the families had lived on these lands for generations, each working for the Lokton family and proud to do so until they passed the tradition on to their own children. The village gave way to a vast field, enclosed with a wooden horse fence that Lord Lokton had helped his grandfather replace. Erik saw workers in the field afar off. A couple of them waved briefly and then returned to working the land.
A few minutes later the two of them passed through the wrought iron gate of the inner fence, a waist-high wall of stone covered in ivy and creeping, flowering trumpet vines. The large, gray stone manor stood tall anther hundred yards beyond the gate. Erik glanced to his left and saw the stables on the north east side of the inner yard, and noted the smoke billowing out through the chimney in Demetrius’ forge behind the stables.
“We are home,” Erik said.
“I am home,” Braun said. “You are still Master Lepkin,” he reminded him.
Erik looked down at his body, but it wasn’t his. It was Master Lepkin’s body. He sighed and closed his eyes. “Sometimes I forget,” he admitted. “It is hard to keep up the charade.”
“Well, do as you must,” Braun said. “I imagine there are good reasons to keep the ruse going, even in your own home.”
Erik shrugged. “Let’s keep moving. We have a lot to get done.”
Braun nodded and urged his horse forward. The two of them galloped up the gently sloping hill, kicking dust and small clots of dirt into the air as they went. Erik looked and saw a couple of guards standing about the entrance to the house. He waved to them and they rushed forward to meet him and Braun.
“What news of our master?” one of them asked.
Braun and Erik pulled back on their reins, slowing the horses to a halt and then Braun dismounted with a graceful jump. “The master is dead,” he said flatly. “Master Erik is now in charge. We have sent word to him at Valtuu Temple.”
Erik opened his mouth to add something, but hearing his father’s death announced so bluntly, without apparent emotion or even a moment of reflection, took the breath out of him. He closed his mouth and swung his leg over his horse to dismount.
One of the guards pointed to him. “Were you there, Master Lepkin?”
Erik nodded.
“Wasn’t there anything you could do?”
Braun clapped the guard on the shoulder. “Master Lepkin did all he could to save our lord. He tried every legal means to halt the preposterous trial. When all else failed, he fought alongside me to free Lord Lokton. We succeeded, but Lord Lokton was ambushed while he and I were making our escape. He was slain by an unknown assassin.”
The two guards bowed their heads for a moment and then glanced to each other before looking back to the house.
“Who will tell Lady Lokton?” one of them asked.
“I will,” Erik said. He pushed through the three of them. “Water my horse.” He stopped abruptly and turned back to Braun. “You should prepare the men. There is much work to be done.”
Braun cocked a brow and looked back at Erik. “What would you have me do, exactly?” he asked.
“We don’t know who, or what, is coming. Call every able-bodied man we have to arms. And organize a caravan to get the women and children out.”
“What is going on?” one of the guards asked.
“Lokton Manor will be under attack soon,” Erik said. “Listen to Braun, he will instruct you.”
Braun stepped forward and whispered to Erik, “How would you like me to prepare for a dragon?” he asked.
Erik shrugged. “I don’t know,” Erik said honestly. “I was hoping you would have an idea.”
Braun leaned back and folded his arms. He looked at Erik for a moment and then he turned to address the two guards. “Boris, you go and tell Demetrius that we need to open the armory. It is time for our finest weapons and armor. Go now.”
One of the guards nodded and sprinted off t
oward the blacksmith’s workshop.
Braun then turned to the other. “Krill, I want you to go and tell Louis and his wife to prepare every carriage we have. I don’t care who drives them, just so long as we are sure to get every woman and child off Lokton lands.”
“Where shall they go?” Krill asked.
Braun turned back to Erik expectantly.
“We could send them to Drakei Glazei,” Erik said.
Braun nodded his head to the side and stroked his chin. “You saw the riots in the streets. Drakei Glazei may not be the best place to send them.”
Erik sighed. “Perhaps to Kuldiga Academy then. The journey would be quicker, and Orres should still be there.”
Braun nodded. “That could work.” Braun turned back to Krill. “Send them to Kuldiga Academy. Master Lepkin will draft a letter for Master Orres.”
Krill saluted and turned away. He took only two steps when Erik asked him to wait.
“What is it?” Braun asked.
“We don’t know what direction the enemy is coming from,” Erik said.
Braun looked to the open field to the west and nodded. “King Mathias may also call the masters at the academy to Drakei Glazei to help quell the riots and solidify his forces,” Braun added.
“What do we do?” Erik whispered. “To send them to Drakei Glazei is to send them to chaos. To send them to Kuldiga could be putting them in the dragon’s path.”
“Did the dragon not say where he was, or when he would come?” Braun asked.
Erik shook his head. He recalled the terrible image of the dragon’s face in the scrying pool at the warlock’s house in Drakei Glazei. “The dragon sneered at me and told me to ‘come to Lokton Manor’ so he could give me a ‘taste of things to come’ and then challenged me to face my destiny,” Erik said. The boy could almost feel the hot, red eyes upon him again as he thought of the dragon’s threat. A shiver ran down his spine.
“He said nothing else?”
Erik shook his head again. “Nothing else.” Erik looked to Braun sullenly. “After that he cast the fireball.”
Braun put a hand on Erik’s shoulder. “For now, we will have them prepare for a journey. We can decide the destination later, after they are ready to go.”