by Lisa Daniels
He and his two female companions seemed so promising, and looking over at the foreboding, white smeared landscape, with the Fractured Spine mountain range in the distance, the woods and the inclines and the choked rivers, she knew her mistake. She had come here without true insight into the Wastes and the dangers they contained. All for the sake of her missing brother. She had stumbled blindly into danger without understanding its true nature, clutching a sword that held more value than most people's lives.
Shadows, she could fight. Those evil, amorphous creatures that slithered in the night, tainting everything with their touch, terrorizing people north and south – that was why she had the weapon in the first place, engineered specifically for the purpose of slaying such creatures.
The environment, however, wasn't really something she anticipated in her game plan.
She thought about her brother. Erlandur Malgrave had vanished from Alyssa's life four years before, without a trace. Only the whisper of memory remained, that he had headed to the Lunar Wastes – for them, for their dead parents, for everyone who had ever lost something to the Shadows.
Four years later, Alyssa finally made it to the outskirts of the Lunar Wastes, after weeks of travel through a sparsely populated land, arriving at a small, cosily lit inn. Four years of training, of growing into an adult, of leaving everything she had ever known behind, just to find the only thing that she loved.
The owner of Blood Moon Inn had instantly appraised Alyssa as she barged in, shaking the snow off her shoulders and letting the warmth of the fireplace steal over her.
“You're not from around these parts, traveler,” the woman had said, as she buffed the side of the bar with a soft cloth until it shone. She put good elbow grease into the action, and Alyssa admired her for a moment, with her fiery red hair, her full lips and cold blue eyes. “Blonde hair, green eyes,” the woman continued, now sorting through her collection of drinks, “why, you're from the deep south. Not many southerners at all who would come to the end of the world.”
“Is it the end of the world?” Alyssa had asked in interest, stamping her boots on the welcome rug, before tramping over to the bar, where the woman poured her a welcome drink of foaming beer, tinged with a sweet aftertaste of honey and cherry. She slid one copper coin to the woman, who accepted it with a smile.
“Of course. The Lunar Wastes has always been where the world ends. The only things you'll find here are snow drowned lands, and monsters you would not find anyplace else. It is...” the red-haired woman pursed her lips, “cursed. To put it mildly. A terrible place with terrible things.”
“Then why would you have an inn on the edge of the world, with monsters?” Alyssa said again, raising one eyebrow. She didn't believe for a second that it was the end of the world, like the locals along the way had proclaimed. “Seems to me an odd choice of business for someone like you. I'm Alyssa, by the way. Alyssa Malgrave.”
“I'm Raine Lancer,” the woman said, offering a hand which Alyssa shook. “Well. Let's just say, Alyssa Malgrave, there are worst things in the world than the Shadows in the south, and the armies in the north. There are those who live in the Wastes who appreciate the supplies I obtain.”
Shadows. The image flashed in Alyssa's mind – of staring from under the bed, her brother's hand clamped over her mouth.
Be quiet, Erlandur had whispered to his little sister, all those years ago. Hard to be quiet when you saw the Shadow creeping across the floor, towards the father who hacked at it, but to no avail. Where the Shadow went, it left corruption. Where the Shadow touched flesh, it left nothing but bones. Its own flesh resembled a mockery of human skin, blackened and oozing, compared to pink, brown or tanned softness.
She saw and heard the clatter of her father's bones upon the floor, as the Shadow groped at his flesh, sucked it away from his skeleton in that impossible way of killing. A demon no mortal hand could touch, fight, or defend against. At least, not without the proper weapons, and why would a simple village in the deep south know of such things?
Somehow, it did not find them.
Somehow, she and Erlandur lived.
She dragged herself out of the memory, examined the edges of the bar, and noticed something. She saw charms, ancient bones and runes strewn across the walls, and charms sketched into the door. She examined Raine with sudden respect and caution. This woman was a witch. The south disliked witches, but Alyssa was well aware the same rules didn't hold true in the north. Alyssa's hand curled around the sword belted into her waist. The weapon, her only protection against the Shadows. Her chain mail clanked, and Raine tapped her fingers onto the bar.
“Alyssa Malgrave. What brings you here?”
Alyssa took a deep breath, not taking her eyes off the woman. She sensed no ill-intent, but she didn't know what kind of magic Raine used. Maybe there was a reason she ran her inn on the border, and it was not for the noble purpose she confided.
“My brother.” Alyssa closed her eyes, and took a long, deep draught of her drink. Erlandur, so consumed by vengeance, who had gone to the north, where people rumored that the Shadows originated from. He wanted to tackle the source, the chaos at its rotten heart. Madness. Sheer madness. She wanted to come. She cursed and screamed and kicked at him, but he refused with the authority of the man in the house. His little sister would not attempt the journey. She would wait for him to welcome him back home.
I was sixteen. Nearly seventeen. And he thought I wasn't old enough!
“I found something out,” Erlandur had said. His blue eyes glimmered in earnest, as he held the hands of his sister, who hated that he meant to go. She would have no one left then, no one who cared about her in the world. And she'd been too inexperienced with sword play and defending herself back then. “A secret that no one else knows. Trust me, little sister.”
Trust me. But how does a boy from the deep south discover how to end a threat centuries old?
“Your brother?” Raine examined him in keen interest. “He came to the Lunar Wastes, too?”
“Yes. He told me that there was a city beyond the Wastes, a city that might have answers about the origin of the Shadows. He found it on an old map. He went with others who had lost people to the monsters. They were desperate. They wanted answers.”
Raine looked troubled. “Interesting. I have seen no Erlandur Malgrave pass through this place in the years that I've worked here. I'm afraid I cannot help you in that quest. Nor do I know of some mythical city.” Was that a flicker of doubt in her eyes? “I do recommend, however, if you plan to travel the Wastes, that you take a guide, and some magical protection from me.” Raine handed her a small pendant with what looked liked a giant tooth, torn off some animal like a bear. It had something carved on it, though Alyssa didn't understand the language. She rolled it through her palms, admiring the simple beauty of it.
“It will protect you when you most need it. One last thing – please be careful. You are not the first who wants to find something beyond the Wastes. You won't be the last. Moon be with you.”
Moon? Alyssa scrutinized the witch carefully. No one spoke of the moon in the south, because they believed the Shadows came from it. They believed in the warmth of the Sun, and the light that banished evil.
Several more travelers came into the Inn during Alyssa's stay, until she found the hooded man and his two companions, willing to guide her across the Wastes. Just for a little bit of coin, and possibly a blade in the back.
Raine said little else, serving her customers, offering them bed and food, where several local hunters and gatherers delivered to her daily. For a remote place on the edge of nowhere, The Blood Moon Inn got a surprising amount of visitors.
At first light, they began their travel, she and the man in the cloak with his two female companions, ready to trek across the howling snow-scape, to the mysterious city that lay beyond the edge of the world.
The city that might have answers to where her brother had disappeared to, all those years ago. A city that few knew about, ex
cept for perhaps scholars and scribes.
It started off well. She had supplies, warm clothes, camping equipment and a clear plan of where they were meant to travel. The hooded man, who she only knew as Gorvald, along with his two female companions, Vislaug and Fora, pointed out landmarks, the Fractured Spine mountains, and said they would take a north-easterly route through the Dread Forest (not a name that particularly inspired Alyssa with feelings of safety) to enter the base of the mountains.
Five days of extensive traveling bit into Alyssa's endurance. One night, they rested near the entrance of the Dread Forest.
She should have realized something was off about the three of them. Remote locations attracted bandits, of course. Why wouldn't they? How easy would it be to rob lone travelers of everything they own, and abandon them in the Wastes to die? How many snow drifts concealed frozen bodies underneath?
She had woken up one morning, to find everything gone. No money, food, water or cooking equipment – nothing to help her survive the journey, and five days at least between her and the border. The only thing she kept thankfully, was her sword, and only because she slept with it under her blankets, sheathed and protected.
Those Shadow cursed bastards. Rage flooded her insides, as she stumbled and fell, face burying into the snow. So cold. So blasting cold...
She forced herself to stare forward, and saw one of the Shadows form in the blizzard. She saw its grotesque form as it shambled through the snow that hindered it, grubby clawed hands reaching for her, seeking to suck the life from her bones.
My sword. With frozen limbs, she wrenched at her sword, clutching the cold bone handle as hard as she could muster, preparing against the vile enemy that pumped hatred through her blood.
The creature seemed to have a tough time with the snows. The way it advanced reminded her of a crawling baby. Summoning up a vast reserve of strength, she advanced upon the Shadow, sword ready in her shaking hands, trying not to stumble. When it scrabbled within reach, she bit her fear away to strike at it with the magical blade. The creature shuddered as the blade pierced it, but tried to grasp at her arm. She sidestepped smoothly, yanking the sword out, and did a skilful low sweep, shearing through the monster's body.
It collapsed and disintegrated, and she lost her balance, rolling backwards down the slope she had fought on, spine impacting against a tree.
She lay there motionless for a moment, the weariness returning in force now that the adrenaline surge vanished. She couldn't die here. Not when she still didn't know what had happened to her brother. Not when he might be alive, and not before she avenged herself against as many Shadows as possible. The things which had ruined her life, turning it from a place of warmth to a place of endless winter.
I can't die here! The Lunar Wastes, it seemed, wanted to welcome her into its cold embrace. Already, her world turned itself into a dark, bleak smear of evening, with the snows relentlessly falling. The Lunar Wastes held only a few short hours of daylight, before plummeting into near perpetual night, illuminated by a moon that loomed larger here than in any place of the south.
How unfair. How stupid. Why was I so stupid? That woman. She warned me to be careful. She... with shaking fingers, teeth chattering, Alyssa dug for the bone pendant she now wore around her neck, with the intricate carved runes.
She didn't know what she expected. Something, maybe, some insane miracle to yank her out of the frozen death her body experienced. To find a way to live through the impossible.
Not this icy darkness, that reached to her with bony fingers, to lure the life out of her tiny body, and to smash her dreams into nothing.
She tried getting up, moving further, because standing still meant certain death – moving signified she at least still possessed the will to live.
So hard. Too hard. The cold consumed everything, beckoned at her and burned. Alyssa frowned. She was actually burning. How? Feverishly, she began trying to tug at her clothes, because it seared, and she didn't understand why, except she needed somehow to take everything off...
Something growled from the darkness. It dimly registered in her throbbing eardrums. She figured if something growled, it needed a reaction of fear. Fear, however, didn't exist anymore. All that existed was the blizzard swishing around, and the burning sensation undulating through every limb.
An enormous, shaggy brown creature with luminous yellow eyes emerged from the dark underbelly of the trees. Fangs protruded from a snow-crusted muzzle.
It's over, Alyssa thought, her teeth violently shaking, her top now undone with her front exposed to the cold. It still burned, though. Why did it burn so much?
Her vision glazed over. Her mind froze, and ceased all conscious function.
Chapter Two
Thoughts bombarded Alyssa's mind. She saw her brother smiling at her over the other side of a dining table, with their parents watching them eat. She remembered being wrapped up at night and being told stories about the monsters that roamed the dark, always defeated by brave heroes and heroines who risked their lives to save others from suffering.
Then, she saw the blizzard sending whorls of snow over her parent's gravestones, the drab granite crumbling apart as darkness ate at it, tore away the foundations of what should have been untouchable.
She hated the Shadows, and the monsters that waited for them in the dust ridden corners, hated her brother who left her alone in that little house, expecting her to just sit there and be patient. Stupid, stupid Erlandur. He should have known better than to leave her behind.
She remembered the first time she picked up a sword, and how her brother had laughed at her, because it was too heavy and dragged along the ground.
She trained hard after that, with fight after fight, slash after slash. Even with her brother mocking her along the way. Even when she still didn't have the skill to follow him.
Hadn't trained her enough to cope with betrayal and cold weather, however.
The eyes. The monster in the forest.
She woke up. Soft sheets lay under her, warm and soothing to her skin. Nothing like the blanket of cold she had been subjected to.
A fire blazed on one wall of the room, hemmed in by stone tiling, with flickering wood embers in the container, and the smoke escaping through a chimney. Alyssa blinked herself more awake, dimly registering the sight in front. She was in a room, similar to the structure of the ones in Blood Moon Inn. Snow splatted the window outside the room, and Alyssa watched the flakes with a shiver of memory, from how close that snow came to burying her corpse in the drifts.
Come to think of it, how was she alive? Who had saved her?
Who had saved her from the beast with the yellow eyes?
Parts of her were still thawing out, not quite at the optimal stage of warmth, though there was no longer that bizarre inflamed sensation upon her skin. She remembered, in a rush of horror, how she had actually started taking off her clothes. In the cold.
Speaking of clothes... she checked her body, and saw she wore what looked like snug fur robes – but a completely different set from what she started out with, suggesting her friendly rescuer had also stripped her snow wet clothes off and draped her in new ones.
A knock on the bedroom door startled her. She eyed it as if it were a hostile snake, waiting for it to pounce.
“Come in,” she croaked, through a weak, rasping throat. The door creaked open, and a man stepped through, holding a tray of food and drink. The first thing Alyssa noticed about the man was his eyes.
She squinted at him suspiciously as he laid down the tray on the side table by her bed. In the candlelight, the shadows cast over his strong, masculine face gave an eerie vibe. Thick lips hid behind a black beard and mustache, and when he bared his teeth in a smile, she noticed how pointed the canines were.
“You?” She said. “You rescued me?”
The man with the yellow eyes stood over her bed, appraising her looks. His eyes traced over her blonde hair, which stood out in the north, where black hairstyles were the
norm. He ran a tongue over his lips – a strangely alluring gesture that made her follow the movement with fascinated nervousness.
“It's not often we get human women foolish enough to come dying on our doorstep,” the man said, his voice a rumbling engine of amusement.
Alyssa recoiled when he reached down to her, his huge hand brushing her forehead. “Don't touch me, monster.”
The man frowned disapproval. “A simple 'thank you for saving my life' might suffice from you, human. I also take offense at being called a monster.”
“What's the point in being grateful if I'm going to die anyway?”
At this, the man looked baffled, giving Alyssa pause to her instant reaction to anger. “Why do you think you're going to die?”
“You're not going to eat me?”
“... Why would I? I rescued you. My sole interest is in making sure you recover.”
Alyssa squinted at him. Then, she saw another man walk past with the same yellow eyes, and he gave a curious glance into the room before vanishing out of sight.
“Human, you should focus on recovering first. Eat. Drink. Rest.” The man waved towards the offering brought to her. His handsome, if gaunt face, twitched in an expression of friendly care. “Then I will show you around to the rest of our abode. You are in wolf territory now. You will be safe here, from the wilds, and the demons.”
“Wolf?” Alyssa stared at the man for a while. She struggled to grasp what was happening. The conflict between the obvious fact she was being looked after, marred with the vision of the shaggy beast she had seen stalking her in the snow. “You are a werewolf?”