by Jon Kiln
“What in the maker’s name is that thing?” Linz gasped.
No one answered him. No one had ever seen such a beast before.
The flying creature continued to move across the sky. It seemed that it was on patrol, searching the for any signs of trouble. Thankfully, it had not spotted them. It was more interested in the commotion that was happening just ahead.
“Quickly,” Ganry said, and they picked up speed, running toward the sounds of battle.
As they turned into the adjacent alley, they were stopped in their tracks. Before them a small battle raged, Mirneans fighting bravely for their very lives. It seemed that not all were willing to cower behind closed doors while such evil ruled. But it was their opponents that stunned Ganry’s group. They were not soldiers or royal guards; these were beasts that looked like they had crawled out from the very gates of hell. Taller than even the largest of Mirneans, they towered above their opponents, clearly stronger and faster. It was also obvious that they were slowly winning the battle. A few of the creatures lay dead on the street, but that figure was easily outdone by the dead Mirneans.
None in the group questioned whether they should help or not. They charged without hesitation towards the battle. Grecia was first into the attack, running forward at full speed, she flew at one of the demons, her jaws wide open, teeth bared as her paws planted on its chest. Her momentum forced the beast over onto its back, where she quickly ripped out its throat. A strange colored liquid poured from the wound.
“Well, at least we know they can be killed,” Ganry exclaimed before he too joined in the fight. He was immediately confronted by two of the creatures. Up close, they looked even more hideous. They were strong and fast, and Ganry needed to be alert to fight them off. Feigning one way and then another, he struck at the side of one of them. His trusted sword, meeting resistance at first from the thick skin of the creature, but with a little more pressure, the blade slid into the body. The demon roared in anguish as Ganry’s sword found a vital organ. A stinking yellow-green thick liquid gushed out from the wound, and the creature fell face forward.
Ganry had no time to relax. Another opponent was upon him, weapons flailing to his front as it advanced. Almost too late, Ganry dodged the sharp, strange looking blade, which cut through his tunic and sliced the skin on his arm. The pain was excruciating, almost causing him to drop his sword, but he quickly recovered and parried the next blow. The creature before him paused and smelled the air. As it caught the scent of Ganry’s blood, a grotesque smile stretched along the lipless mouth, exposing vicious long canines. The creature sensed victory and lunged at Ganry with a triumphant battle cry.
Ganry watched as it leapt at him. As often happened for him, everything seemed to move slowly as his combat trained reflexes kicked in. The beast’s overconfidence was its own undoing. It raised a weapon above its head, to deliver what it expected would be the killing blow. But its smile soon turned to a grimace, as Ganry, quick as a flash, leaned backwards. The creature’s sword passed his chest only by a fraction. Upon raising his body back up again, his own trusted sword, Windstorm, sliced through the belly of the beast, spilling out its entrails onto the ground. Slowly, it collapsed to its knees on the ground, gasping its last breath.
Ganry turned to the rest of the battle, but it was almost finished. The creatures had been taken by surprise and many had been slain. Those that survived fled for their very lives, with the Mirneans giving chase.
“Ganry de Rosenthorn,” a voice rang out. “Now there’s a face I thought I would never see again.”
He scanned the group of fighters looking for the speaker, and then a single figure stepped forward.
“Surely you recognize me. I helped rescue the Emperor from the dungeons,” she said smiling. “Where is Artas? Is he not with you?”
“Well, I’ll be damned. It’s Daphne, the baker’s daughter. Still causing mischief I see, and still with a soft spot for our young Artas.”
Grecia nudged at Ganry’s leg, letting him know they should move on quickly as the streets were unsafe.
“We must go, Daphne,” he said. “We must leave the city.”
“Of course,” Daphne responded. “Go ahead. I am staying here with the resistance. We are growing, and making headway in reclaiming our city.” She moved off with the others in her group, leaving Ganry and Grecia alone.
Grecia pulled back her head and gave a single low howl into the night. A few seconds later a response was heard, and soon Kregon and Lazras appeared in human form, holding the stretcher, between them.
The human fighters had already drifted into the shadows. Ganry’s party set off again, towards the inn, passing no more incidents that would delay them. Berne knocked on the great wooden inn door, in code. After a few moments, the door opened slightly with a damp creak, and Berne conversed with an unseen person. Once they had finished exchanging words, the door opened fully, allowing all to enter.
The innkeeper remembered Ganry and his past exploits of rescuing the Emperor from the witches, but the other people with him made him nervous. He relaxed a little when Berne explained everything in detail. Though despite Berne’s reassurances, he was still wary, for he had heard talk of strange beasts roaming the city, and monsters in the sky. And now here, there where strangers in his inn. He carefully lit a lamp and handed it over to Berne, while keeping one eye on the newcomers.
The old servant accepted the lamp and said a few comforting words to the innkeeper, before he led them to the back of the cellar where the trapdoor would take them to the underground caves. Ganry’s party descended into the darkness, and Berne wished them a safe passage before lowering the lid, shutting them in the dark cavern.
23
Thalia could sense that she was on the cusp of great power, a feeling she had not felt for hundreds of years. She had ruled the underworld for a long time, but this was different. In the underworld there were limits to her dominion, whereas here, those limits were few, and she would rule the whole world in time, of that she was certain. Humans were weak, some would follow her without even needing to be mind-controlled. They were either greedy for her rewards or fearful of her power, or simply easy to coax. Others, she would bend them to her will. And for those that defied her, her demons would soon crush them until they submitted, or perished.
She had once been human, many years ago. Born between a man and a woman copulating, but not a child made from love. Her mother had been raped, and showed no affection to the bastard child she had born.
At three, she had been left to die in a forest. Unloved and unwanted, a child who did not belong with anyone, anywhere. By pure chance she had been found by a witch who was out collecting herbs and roots. She kept her and raised her, teaching her the arts of magic, which Thalia excelled in. What her foster mother did not know, was that her father was not of this world. Though Thalia herself did not know these things either, until she was banished.
For many years she personally served the witch, fetching and carrying, cleaning her home and cooking for her. In return, the witch taught her everything she knew, but by an early age it was clear that Thalia was far more powerful than the simple witch could ever be. Soon, it would be the old woman who would serve Thalia.
As her power grew, so did her cruelty. By the time Thalia was sixteen, the witch who had raised her had lost her usefulness, and Thalia killed her. Free of her guardian, and outgrown of her environment, she set off on a journey of discovery. She searched the kingdoms of the world to try and quench her thirst for power, which had become all consuming. She learned much of the dark magic that offered her everything she craved. Her power was so strong that no witch could stand against her. With this power came followers, and soon her coven spread across the Kingdom of Mirnee.
Thalia had grown into a beautiful young woman, tall and slender by build, strong and confident by nature, but cold and hard was her heart. Her thick black glossy hair reached almost to the ground, and would shimmer silver and blue when caught in the moonlight
. These looks enchanted many a man, and she used that power to her advantage.
By the time she was in her third decade of life, she had fought her way into positions of power. With the ear of the Emperor at the time, and the politicians, she wielded much influence. For Thalia though, this was not enough. She wanted more, and it was in that search for power that she commanded her followers to rise with her, as she tried to grasp complete control of Mirnee.
Her timing could not have been worse, for an albino Emperor sat upon the throne. In the end he was her undoing. Whether it was ignorance, or over-confidence, she was unaware that there was a magic more powerful than hers. When they battled, he was victorious, and banished the defeated Thalia’s spirit. Her human corpse rotted, as any other.
However, her spirit could not go to the peace and tranquility of the spirit world, for she was not fully human. Instead, it went to the underworld, where she was trapped. Spending the next five hundred years hating the royal lineage of Mirnee, she vowed her revenge.
The underworld offered her new opportunities to exercise power, and she had new magics to learn, but it all became limiting. She hated being imprisoned within her chambers, and her will was forever bent towards freedom. Her affinity with the beasts that lived here surprised her because she felt at home, as if she belonged. They felt the same way of her presence, an anomaly she could not understand. That was until one day she was visited by a powerful beast, who stunned her with the information that he was her father. He had possessed the soldier that had raped her mother, and she was the result of a union between beast and human.
When her father had visited, Thalia was in awe, for the power he emanated was incredible. In time she realized this could work to her advantage, using his power and influence to work freely, and be left alone. He agreed to help her work towards finding a way back to world of humans. Once she ruled, he may allow her other worlds to defeat. Once she proved her worth, they could rule the underworld and beyond, as father and daughter.
In time she discovered a way to contact her followers in the human world, and she commanded them to search for a way for her return. It took many years, but eventually a parchment was found that foretold that only the blood of the albino could restore her. By now, the albino emperor was long dead. So she waited patiently for the next one to return, biding her time and all the while becoming stronger and angrier. She also grew suspicious of her father and his motives. She thought that he would rule, and she would be cast aside as a second in command. In the end that obsession became all-consuming and she rarely communicated with him. He seemed not to even notice, and she was left to her own devices.
Finally, a new albino heir was born. After centuries of waiting, her time had come. Immediately she began to make her plans fruitful. Her human followers infiltrated the palace at the highest levels. It had all been going too well, and just as quickly it all went wrong.
The albino prince was taken out of Mirnee and hidden from her. After eight human years, they finally located him. Yet, even then she was thwarted. Her coven of witches did not prove to be strong enough against the albino and his allies.
Further information reached her that he would be visiting the spirit world on his tenth birthday eve. All she had to do was replace his spirit guide. Now, she was set free upon the human world, and these humans would pay penance for what they had done to her. Here, begins the reign of Queen Thalia, and darkness will descend upon this world forever.
24
Darkness fell, and still Qutaybah had not returned. His men had led the Palaran Queen through the forest to safety, and they camped for the night in a small cave on a rocky crag.
For the first time in days, Artas relaxed a little, but did not completely lower his guard. He could not do that until Myriam was safely back in Castle Villeroy, but at least they were out of Mirnee and in a friendly kingdom.
“I hope Ganry, Hendon and Linz are safe,” Queen Myriam said, as they sat around a small fire that had been lit. “Things have turned so quickly in Mirnee. We should have guessed the problem with the witches wasn’t over. Those strange creatures are most certainly not of this world, and make for powerful enemies.”
“Ganry will see that they are all well, my Lady,” Artas attempted to comfort her. “I feel nothing could better him, not even those ugly flying beasts.”
Myriam nodded agreement and smiled, hopefully. She too had come to believe that her faithful bodyguard was indestructible, but he was only mortal in the end. The threat they faced with the witches was even greater than it had been of a few years ago. Ganry was indispensable to her, and ruling Palara without him would be ever more difficult. She needed him in her life.
“You should sleep, my Lady,” Artas suggested. “We still have many miles of travel ahead of us before we’re home.”
“You too, Artas,” she reminded him. “I know you are loathe to let your guard down while we are in danger, but Qutaybah’s men guard us well. I think you can afford to rest for a while.”
Artas reluctantly agreed, he would be no use to his Queen if he was too weary to protect her. They wrapped themselves in thick horse blankets, and lay close to the fire for the welcoming heat. Soon, they all slept soundly. A passing guard could hear the sound of their regular breathing, so let them be.
They were finally awoken from their slumber by a low rumbling sound, the ground vibrating slightly. Artas quickly jumped up, and with weapon in hand he exited the cave. What he saw completely stopped him in his tracks. The whole forest appeared to be moving, closing in on itself as the trees moved closer together, until they were almost touching, creating a solid barrier.
“What’s happening?” Artas asked the nearest guard.
“The forest has awakened. It has been said in times of great strife and danger to Vandemland, the forest would always protect us, but never has anyone seen this happen.” The guard shook his head in awe at what was happening.
“But what of Qutaybah and the others, how will they get through? Won’t they be crushed?” Artas worried for them.
“Only those who are evil, and intent on bringing harm to Vandemland, will need to fear the Chervin Forest. Everyone else will be able to pass through safely.”
“I have a friend, Hendon, he would love to see this forest,” Artas smiled, remembering the forest dweller. “In better times, of course,” he added.
“In better times, your friend would be most welcome,” Jacob, the guard, patted Artas fondly on his back. “You should go rest, we will set off early in the morning.”
Artas nodded and returned to the cave. He explained the noise to Myriam and the Duchess, but they simply went back to sleep, accepting that the forest truly was magical. Throwing more kindle onto the small fire, he climbed into his bedroll. The advice to rest was good, but sleep came reluctantly, and when it did it was restless.
***
From their position just inside the forest, hidden by trees, Qutaybah had a good view of the strange creatures that were camped along its edge. These beasts were like nothing he had ever seen before, grotesque and primal. Many of them grunted to communicate, but there were humans among them. These seemed to be the leaders, the ones giving the orders. His attention was drawn to two figures, one a giant of a man at least the height of two men, the other also large but not as tall as the giant, and dressed in black. They appeared to be arguing. Standing close by was a small group of witches. All of the creatures were heavily armed, many carrying large scimitar type swords and some wielding battle axes.
When Qutaybah had first arrived, they were setting up camp, building shelters close to the forest, but as they did this, the ground rumbled and the trees seemed to move closer together. This had caused a panic in the beasts’ ranks, and they moved further away from the darkness of the forest.
Qutaybah knew it was the trees awakening, but still he could hardly believe it. Like every Vandemlander, he had heard stories of the Chervin Forest, of how it was a living entity that would protect the borders if ever Vandeml
and was in danger. Like most, he believed they were just stories made up, and meant to be told to children to keep them well behaved otherwise the Chervin Forest would eat them up. Yet, right before his eyes it was really happening. The trees were moving, and he did not doubt that if any of those creatures were foolish enough to enter the forest, that would be the last anyone would see of them.
“Sire, I think we must leave now,” one of his men suggested.
Qutaybah nodded his agreement. “Let the forest deal with them for now,” he said. “Let’s make our way home and report this to the King.”
Qutaybah took one last long look at the camp, and the creatures inside. He was loathe to leave them without someone watching, but they needed to make haste, to catch up with the Palaran Queen.
As they moved through the forest making their way back, Qutaybah could have sworn the trees moved apart so they could find speed on their way. Once, he managed to look back and sure enough, they seemed to move closely in again. He felt less uneasy about leaving the monsters now. For certain, the forest would let no one pass that it did not want to enter Vandemland.
25
After much debatable discussions between them, it was decided that the shorter hidden route through the underground lake would not be viable to them, with Cronos’s condition. They considered fastening him to the back of the fastest swimmer, but decided against that when Ganry described the route in detail, and how long they would be submerged.
Cronos still had not fully recovered, slipping in and out of consciousness most of the time. When he did awaken, he barely recognized anyone. Grecia tended to him constantly, and although she had stopped the wound from bleeding, she was still unable to completely revive him. That concerned Ganry greatly, but there was nothing they could do for now other than get him safely out of the city. Hopefully, Grecia, Hendon and Azmariddian together, could remove whatever malaise was affecting him.