The Blue Journal (Fantasmagoria Book 1)

by I. B. George

  Then Elian went over to one of the shelves on which he kept his flasks with different potions and grabbed a pearly coloured one.

  He took off its lid and tipped the vessel slowly over the mirror. One drop slid over the rim of the flask then dropped onto the dark surface of the mirror, creating circles which spread towards the inside of the frame.

  Tyreas saw an image, blurry at first, then clearer and clearer. In a field, somewhere in Fantasmagoria, seven riders were galloping towards an unknown destination. Tyreas recognized Radius’s outline. He didn’t know the Professor’s other companions. He could make out the silhouette of a little boy riding in the saddle of a black horse and although he couldn’t see his face, he guessed that it was Prince Eremon.

  “As you can see, my great king, the boy and his companions are on the move. They are certainly up to something, otherwise they wouldn’t have left Arvinard Castle”.

  “We must stop them”, mumbled Tyreas, suddenly frightened at the thought of the prophecy.

  “We could do that, I can assure you…”

  “How?” almost shouted Tyreas. “They survived last time, even though we were sure they’d find their end at the bottom of the sea”.

  “We send the Shadows!”

  “The Shadows?!” shuddered Tyreas.

  “Yes, we must get this over and done with, once and for all. The child is a permanent threat to your destiny, Your Greatness”.

  “I know… it’s just that the Shadows are wild beings which can’t be controlled… others have tried to use their power and have perished by their sharp swords…”

  “Don’t you worry, King Tyreas, I will take care of it. They’ll do as I tell them”, said Elian, eyes sparkling with evil.

  “Well then, you’re free to do as you think best”, uttered Tyreas quickly, hurrying to leave the castle cellars.

  “Very well, Your Highness”.

  Tyreas turned towards the door and left the room. Behind him, the sorcerer started putting together all the stuff he needed to invoke the spirits of the four warriors known as the Shadows.

  ***

  Many hundreds of years before, during the time when Arion, the great leader of the Khalaris, started the war against the kingdoms of Elementis, there lived four warriors from the Kingdom of Water who distinguished themselves through their bravery on the battlefield.

  The four were inseparable and a legend grew around them that any battle was as good as won when they fought together. It was said that their power lay in their swords which never left their sides and everybody said they had been found in the River of the Everlasting Souls which had its source in the Demented Forest.

  The then ruler of the kingdom held these warriors in great esteem, thinking of them as some kind of good luck charm that brought victory.

  And still, despite these soldiers’ courage, Heldor Castle was eventually surrounded by the allied forces of the peoples of Khalari, Hekar and Dal’al. As the Water Chosen were few during those times, they couldn’t withstand the invaders’ sustained attack who were able to break into the castle in the end.

  The savagery of the Akros peoples proved unstoppable as they killed everyone they found in the castle. The king and a few close friends managed to flee through the underground, using the passage that led to the bottom of the hill on which Heldor Castle had been build.

  The four warriors stayed behind to insure the king’s safe passage, after which they were meant to follow behind him.

  However, once out of the castle, the king ordered the exit from the vaults to be blocked, thus condemning the four soldiers to a sure death.

  The four fought bravely until sundown, sending hundreds of Akros warriors to heaven. They were overcome in the end by exhaustion and the large number of soldiers.

  They died close to each other, thinking about the king’s ingratitude and that of their fellows in the Kingdom of Water. They clasped their swords so tight to their chests that no one was able to unfasten their hands and steal them.

  They were left there, but after the war had ended they were buried eventually in the same place they died.

  Their spirits haunted the vaults of the castle they had defended with their own lives, taking revenge on the heirs of those who had abandoned them.

  Those who had managed to keep their life after coming across them in the dungeons of the castle talked about seeing some sort of spectres floating above the ground, covered in long, tattered garments with hoods that allowed for a glimpse of their twisted faces made of black smoke.

  Superstitiously, the people in the castle prayed to their gods every night not to come across these Shadows, ghosts of the former defenders of Heldor.

  ***

  Robert and his companions stopped for a rest at midday in a small woodland near a fortification, away from prying eyes. They had only a cold meal as they were afraid to make a fire in case the smoke could be seen from afar.

  They waited for the dusk in order to set off towards their new destination, the Demented Forest, scrutinizing the surrounding paths to see in time if anyone approached their little camp.

  The sun was burning brightly but the forest offered shelter and cool shade, protecting them with its luscious canopy. It was the last oasis of peace and quiet before braving the dangerous places they had to go through.

  On a few occasions they had seen small groups of soldiers passing by on the roads near the town ahead. They had a hard time holding back from attacking these groups of soldiers who lay down the law in Elementis, humiliating the people of the four kingdoms.

  Hours went by while the seven companions waited patiently for time to go past and twilight to set in so they could be on their way. They had to get to Akros in the next few days to meet the mysterious person who was waiting for them.

  Radius kept the secret of that person’s identity to himself, even when he was questioned by those in the group. Azar, who was the one who told the Professor about the existence of this character who had, presumably, some information which could come in handy, was equally quiet.

  They didn’t see Khar very often, as he was watching over them from up in the sky and it was impossible to ask him about the mystery surrounding the meeting that was to take place in a few days. It had been agreed that the falcon should not make contact unless there was some imminent danger and therefore Khar was able to keep a lookout from high up over the surrounding roads in order to keep them out of harm’s way.

  The sun was beginning to sink towards the horizon. One by one, as it was getting darker and darker, the lights in the little town came up.

  As it got really dark Radius told the others to pack up camp. They set off at a leisurely pace, walking at the side of their horses, holding them by the reins.

  From above, Khar gave a sharp scream which reassured the seven companions that everything was alright.

  The horses stepped along calmly and obediently, unaware of the nerves of their masters who were heading fervidly towards the Demented Forest, the very place they had to reach by dawn.

  ***

  The cockerels were heralding the approaching dawn, waking up the beasts and birds from the surrounding villages.

  The seven friends were galloping confidently under Khar’s watch, who scrutinized the dark in search of enemies and gave a sharp cry from time to time in order to reassure the Professor that there was no danger.

  Robert found out from the others in the group that they were somewhere near the Demented Forest which they hoped to arrive by sunrise.

  A streak of reddish light was beginning to take shape somewhere yonder, announcing the beginning of a new day. The travellers urged their horses on, quickening their step. The creatures were breathing heavily, but carried on, as if they knew that the success of this expedition depended partly on them.

  “We’re here!” called Radius, pointing at the outline of trees ahead.

  Everybody felt relieved when they realised they had made it this far. They were aware though of the legends that had been wo
ven around these places.

  “May the gods be with us”, mumbled Voras to himself. He was superstitious and afraid of anything that he couldn’t explain.

  He pulled the collar of his shirt up, as if the danger was breathing down his neck and tried to keep up with his companions.

  ***

  The Demented Forest offered a fascinating spectacle to those who dared to cross its threshold. The trees, hundreds of years old, hunched down over the paths, their trunks seemingly twisted by an invisible hand.

  The knotted branches were intertwined in an indescribable mess, blocking the sunlight with thick foliage. The few rays coming through the branches shaded the whole forest in a bluish-grey tint.

  It felt as though nature had given up on tidying up this corner of the world. Thick brambles, equally tangled, were scattered everywhere, rendering any attempt at orienteering meaningless in the resulting chaos where any landmarks were impossible to find.

  Not even the wind dared to venture into this thicket. No leaves rustled and there were no creatures about. There was a terrible silence, as if the world was just beginning, spoilt now by the horses’ hoofs and the laboured breathing of the seven travellers.

  None of them dared to speak and, even had they wanted to, they felt they couldn’t utter a single word. They watched the landscape around them, glancing fearfully at each other from time to time, eyes full of silent questions.

  They were walking along the only road that was somehow more distinguishable, hoping they were on the right track. All this time, their minds kept racing around unspeakable tales that sprung from all the legends around the Demented Forest.

  For decades no one had dared to venture into this realm. Those who had tried had lost their lives among the tangled thicket of the woods. Few had managed to escape the traps of the forest, losing their minds instead. They were the ones who, in rare moments of lucidity confessed to the horrors they had been through, talking of seeing the spirits of loved ones who had been long gone.

  Those who listened prayed to the gods to keep them safe and shuddered at what they were hearing. Even those who didn’t take these stories very seriously, were aware of the dangers hidden every step of the way in the Demented Forest and swore they’d never ever go in there.

  At last, the Professor spoke in a hushed voice:

  “We’ll look for a clearing to set up camp. We’ll wait for the evening and set off one hour before sunrise tomorrow. Vidar!” he called from his saddle.

  “At your service!”

  “Go on ahead and look for a place to camp.”

  The captain nodded in agreement and nudged his horse, galloping ahead of his friends. Those left behind walked slowly, waiting for a sign from Vidar. Rolan kept thinking that any moment now they would hear the captain’s frightened screams as he was kidnapped by the forest’s spirits.

  They kept going at the same rate, glancing curiously about them, almost waiting to be snatched by the branches which looked just like skeletal hands.

  They heard an owl’s hoot that froze the blood in their veins. Radius stopped his horse and raised his right hand, signing to the others to halt. They heard another owl’s hoot in the deafening silence around them.

  “This way”, said the Professor. “Vidar has found a good place for our rest”.

  They all started galloping behind Radius, following the same winding path as Captain Vidar. They were riding bent close to the horses’ necks, trying to avoid the dried branches hanging off the trees.

  At long last they reached the clearing which Vidar had found for them. It seemed like a good place for camping, set near a slow moving brook, but without a sign of any living creatures in it.

  They unharnessed the horses, allowing them to graze freely. Frightened at first by the bizarre glow of the grass, the horses started eventually to graze greedily and to quench their thirst in the river by the edge of the clearing.

  They sat in a circle, took out the food from their bags and started to appease their hunger after all the marching of the past few hours.

  “We ought to get some rest”, suggested Radius. “We have a difficult day ahead of us”.

  They took out their blankets, folded them and put them under their heads, and their thoughts wandered off to the Misty Passage which they would have to go through a few days hence. Azar felt a bit more confident about that. He had crossed that passage many times when he had to fulfil the commands of the Queen of the Kingdom of Fire. Their first hurdle was the check post at the entrance to the passage.

  What they needed was a good plan which would make their disguise of identity perfect. The Professor’s idea to pass for merchants who carry goods over to the Khalari region seemed suitable enough to trick Tyreas’s soldiers.

  Robert looked at his travelling companions. He liked Vidar. A man of few words, yet sure of himself. He was a tall man, broad shouldered who always made sure those around him were safe. You couldn’t guess his age although his silvery hair and grey moustache betrayed the fact that he was far from being young. He was skilled with the big, heavy sword which he always made sure to keep by his side.

  Rolan seemed like a cheerful, open person who always spoke his mind. You could tell, however, that he was a superstitious person who always looked to the gods for help. Despite all that, Robert was certain that they could always count on him, even though he seemed to be hiding something, the look in his eyes and his features always darkening whenever Tyreas, the ruler of the Kingdom of Water was mentioned.

  His attention then turned to Azar, the former master of weapons at Sardar Castle and he felt sure that he could rely on him at all times. He was now serving the third Eremon generation, after his grandfather and his mother.

  As for Voras, he knew that he was one of the Night Chosen who could use his powers with great skill. He had fought against King Tyreas and when his own king, Heron, accepted defeat, he had joined the Professor. His whole demeanour, seemingly distracted, made his enemies behave less vigilantly around him, which they would later come to regret.

  A most remarkable character was Akura, however. Robert smiled when he remembered their first meetings. In the meantime he came to realize that the wolf was full of good intentions and good advice. Robert knew that Akura was a good advisor to the royal court, loyal to his family, always discreetly there for them.

  The Professor completed this bizarre assembly which was united by one common belief: fulfilling the prophecy of the Oracle of Konaar.

  Robert watched them all with love, thinking of them as some sort of older brothers. He had no doubt that together with these determined friends he was going to fulfil his destiny. With that in mind, he fell asleep, waiting alongside the others for the moment when they were about to set off.

  ***

  Captain Vidar was the first to keep watch. Next to him, he had placed the sword which had served him faithfully through the years. He scanned the thicket around, wondering how he’d never seen anything so strange.

  That grey-bluish hue of the landscape made his eyes tired and made him feel uneasy. He turned his head, watching his sleeping friends. It was going to be dark soon. He didn’t believe in the evil spirits that drove people mad or killed them when they ventured into the Demented Forest.

  He heard a rustle coming from the bushes ahead. He turned his head and looked in that direction but couldn’t see anything. He got up and had a closer look, trying to startle the animal that was creeping around the camp. What else could it be if not an animal?

  He heard noises again, this time coming from his left side. He clasped his sword, convinced that something was wrong. From the kind of noises he could hear, it was probably a fast creature or maybe a whole pack that surrounding their camp.

  Taking a few steps back, he headed towards the Professor, but kept an eye on the forest at the same time. He bent down and placed his left hand on the Professor’s shoulder, waking him up. The Professor opened his eyes in confusion and started to ask something. Vidar stopped him by placing a
finger to his lips and urging Radius to be quiet.

  The Professor understood right away that something was wrong. He lifted himself up onto his elbows, looking in the direction the captain was pointing. He couldn’t see anything, but got up slowly and started waking up everyone else.

  Suddenly, from the edge of the forest appeared some sort of ghostly shadows which headed quickly towards the camp, seemingly gliding over the ground. The huge swords they were carrying in their hands glinted threateningly.

  “We’re being attacked!” shouted Vidar, throwing the cape off his shoulders.

  Robert and his companions grabbed their swords and jumped to their feet. The captain crossed his sword with the first Shadow that came his way. A metallic gnashing accompanied the crossing of the blades. Vidar pushed his adversary’s blade away and then manoeuvred his sword to the right, aiming for the middle of the Shadow.

  “By all gods!” he cried out when he saw how the sword went right through the body of his opponent as if through a wall of smoke.

  The Shadow aimed his sword at Vidar’s left shoulder with a powerful up and down movement. The captain avoided it by jumping to one side managing to evade his adversary’s tremendous hit. He then lunged towards his adversary’s neck but was disappointed again when he saw that his sword had left no trace of a wound on the figure in front of him. He tried to look into the face of his attacker by focusing on the inside of the hood on his head and what he saw was the skeletal outline, like a black fog of his adversary’s face.

  Behind him, Voras was defending himself with calm movements, twisting the sword above his head slowly. He had realized too that his adversary was a ghost and he was coolly looking for a way to crush him. Voras considered using his powers to create a solid darkness through which he could guide his friends out of the forest.