Dark Moon Rising (The Prophecies of Zanufey)

by A. Evermore

  ‘Indeed,’ she agreed, ‘maybe she pitied him. Though it is true that she always allows free will, whether for good or ill. One thing is clear, there is more to this story that is yet to be played, and it is our weakness that we cannot know fully the Great Goddess’s grand design.

  ‘The saddest thing is there was no one to help him,’ Edarna continued, ‘no one strong enough to teach him, to control him and as such there was much fear towards him as he grew into a young man and then a powerful Wizard. Eventually he was driven out of his home and he fled lest he be burnt alive as Necromancer, though he was no true Black Wizard. No one knows where he went or how he escaped and all thought him dead. But in the end it seems he hid away from the world for a long long time, longer than a normal man’s life for when he returned it was clear that he could not die, he was beyond death, his dark gift had made him immortal.

  ‘Lost and forgotten in the shadows, Keteth grew strong. It seems all those years in hiding were lived in fear, anger and hatred burned within him, eventually driving him mad. In isolation he had worked upon his gift unchecked and unchallenged, his magic had become twisted but strong, corrupt yet powerful,’ Edarna trailed off, Issa waited for more but the old woman stared blankly into the middle distance and her face was unreadable.

  ‘But what happened to him, his physical body? It’s no longer human. And what about the Immortal Lord? Where did he come from?’ the words tumbled out of Issa’s mouth. It was time for crystal clear answers.

  Edarna shook her head and let out a long-held sigh as if she dared not answer her questions. ‘Why, child, do you know none of these things? I wish I did not even know of them, what little I do know,’ she shook her head.

  Issa looked down into her lap. ‘My mother, bless her, kept me from the world and all the things I should have known. She wanted to keep the darkness from my mind and though she succeeded, she could not keep the darkness from our doorstep,’ Issa’s throat tightened.

  Edarna’s face softened into a motherly smile. She took another deep breath, ‘All right, I’ll tell you the bits that I know, though I don’t know much or even want to know.’

  Issa bent closer as she spoke.

  ‘A very long time ago the Immortal Lord, Baelthrom,’ she made another warding sign in the air, ‘is said to have entered Maioria from the Dark Rift. Over a long time and only a little at first, he ate the living magic of the world to fuel his being. The more he grew the more insatiable his appetite became until the land itself began to wither and die, many crops failed and animals fell sick and perished.

  ‘But still Baelthrom grew strong and in time was aided by the Dark Dwarves and Necromancers who saw him as their long-awaited Dark God of prophecy, and his ranks of Immortals amassed. Don’t ask me anymore on that,’ she raised a hand as Issa was about to speak, ‘for I know nothing more, other than it is wise not to dig too far into something if you don’t really want to know the detailed truth.

  ‘Anyway, I was taught that the Ancients, in their wisdom and their worry as to what to do with the growing threat of Baelthrom, decided to split the magic of the world, divide its powers up so no one could have access to all. From the divided magic six orbs were created and then used to imprison Baelthrom deep into the bedrock of Maioria, the runic name of each orb etched in stone upon the door of his prison and sealed by Ancient magic. The orbs were then divided amongst the different peoples of the Known World.

  ‘It is sometime after that Keteth appears once more in the world, now a twisted being mad with greed and possessing a terrible intelligence. Driven by lust for more power, just like he seeks more power to this day, he scoured the land for the orbs so he would have the keys to all the magic in Maioria. In his madness he thought himself stronger than the Immortal Lord. Now you could say like attracts like, and so evil attracted evil, and Keteth found the Immortal Lord’s prison. There he discovered the runic names of the orbs that, when spoken with magic, would lead one to its location. He did so and stole one, breaking the seal upon Baelthrom’s prison.

  ‘Now, there was a curse placed upon all the orbs by the Ancients; that any who touched an orb other than its Keeper would die. But Keteth could not die and when he stole the Orb of Water, instead of killing him, the curse twisted him into his current form; a bloated white monster of the sea.’

  Issa shuddered at the thought of it, remembering the white mass moving beneath the surface of the sea in the dark.

  ‘Of course now Baelthrom’s prison was weakened, enough for him to break it apart until it shattered. Baelthrom broke free and wreaked vengeance upon his captors until he had destroyed them all, destroyed all the Ancients. That was the end of the Age of the Ancients and since then all beings of the Known World have known nothing but decline whilst Baelthrom rises, spreading his dominance and destruction upon all. When I see his Dread Dragons in the sky I know his might is great and our time is coming to an end.’

  Edarna looked paler than the wraiths and Issa caught a tremble in her hands that made her worry. She reached over and clasped them in her own. They were freezing cold.

  Edarna looked up and gave a weak smile. ‘What can we do? What can any of us do? Keteth keeps the last of the Ancients, and all the poor souls he captures, as Lost Ones and Forsaken, enslaved within his prison and trapped forever in the Shadowlands. A spreading unholy realm of his own making.

  ‘I think it is high time he is gone from this world, set free from Maioria and his own pain. Though Keteth despises the Immortal Lord he is his unwitting minion. Baelthrom could long ago have destroyed the White Beast and while Baelthrom controls Keteth, the Immortal Lord has some power, some access, to the Night Goddess’s realm of the dead.’

  Both women fell silent for a time. The sun rose over the treeline and cast long slanting golden rays into the room. Dust eddies and tiny flies swirled about, suddenly illuminated by the light as the two women sat in thought.

  ‘But I must leave,’ Issa murmured to herself, ‘there must be a way.’

  ‘I need some time to think,’ Edarna stood up abruptly, belying her age, and stalked off into the other room, closing the door behind her. Issa sat alone for a moment wondering what to do. Then she went to the kitchen and took an apple from the fruit bowl. As she ate she considered her options.

  The sun was past its zenith by the time Edarna returned. There was a hard determined look on her face and she struggled under the weight of an over-filled wicker basket covered with a faded patchwork blanket. She dumped it on the table and winced as she stretched her back. Issa set aside her plate of sweet cakes and looked expectantly at the basket.

  ‘Right,’ Edarna said, slapping her hands to her hips, ‘as I said before I shall not leave this place but you, my dear, have to.’ A meow echoed from under the table and a hot furry thing curled around Issa’s ankle. She reached down to stroke the cat. Edarna whipped back the cover of the basket and both women peered inside.

  Issa had no idea what any of the items were. There were jars of all shapes and sizes, some with seemingly nothing in and others with something unpleasant pickled, which she did not to look too long at. There were several faded velvet and leather pouches, some barely containing their stuffed contents whilst others appeared empty.

  ‘Now has been a long time since I ever tried to create anything so complicated as this, and it will take all of these items and more,’ Edarna spread her hand over the contents, ‘but as far as I can see there is no other option.’

  ‘What is it you will create?’ Issa asked, clinging to intrigue to stop the dread from spreading.

  ‘Hah! You are going to love this,’ Edarna squealed and clasped her hands to her chest with a grin, looking just like a little girl. Issa could see why the older woman had chosen a Witches path of exciting potions and earthy spells. ‘It will be a potion of potions! Even the dead will not know!’ Edarna chuckled.

  ‘What do you mean, ‘even the dead will not know’?’ Issa asked suspiciously, the dread notching up a rung.

  ‘Well
now, long ago when I was in my relative youth, over the course of an entire year I gathered together the bits and pieces needed to create a potion and a spell to make me seem as one of them, a wraith, a Lost One, one of the dreaded Forsaken. I wanted to walk amongst them, to see what they see, feel what they feel,’ she shuddered, ‘and to glimpse the Shadowlands for real.

  ‘So, it worked, and I did all those things and I returned but I did not learn so much,’ she frowned, ‘and the Shadowlands are not so interesting. Just like walking through a ghost world of trees and deserted villages, only everything is hazy and in shades of grey. It was endless though and I could see how one can become forever lost. But it was fun tricking the wraiths, not even Keteth caught me, though it was through sheer luck that I did not see that awful monster.’

  ‘What are you planning, Edarna?’ Issa asked, the dread deepening.

  ‘Well now, I have no idea if this will work and it will take all day and night to create, but it is my thinking that the only way you can get off this island is by that little boat of yours.’

  Issa nodded, she had concluded as much herself.

  ‘Well there is no way you can escape the Shadowlands, the current being as it is. But, and this is the chance you have, the Arin Flow, the great river that snakes through the western half of Frayon, surges into the sea to the north and alters the tide.’

  Issa tried to recall the old curling map of The Known World on the wall of the school classroom that they all had to learn off by heart. It was a hazy image but she could just about remember the great river that divided the biggest continent of the Known World across its middle.

  ‘Its cold water sinks whilst the warm seawaters of the south are pushed up,’ said Edarna, ‘Or something like that, I forget it all now. But anyway, it is here that the tide turns and flows towards the Main Land away from the Shadowlands. Now it is a long shot, but if you can reach the point where the tide changes you have a chance to make it to the Main Land,’ Edarna grinned, clearly pleased with her plan.

  ‘Right,’ Issa nodded, ‘so how will I make it through the Shadowlands to there?’

  Edarna’s grin deepened and she spread her arms towards the basket.

  ‘Oh no,’ Issa sighed; her head slumped into her hands.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Witch Craft

  After a short much needed nap Issa awoke as the orange rays of an afternoon sun slanted through the kitchen windows. Edarna was busy at work and humming softly to herself.

  The kitchen had been transformed into something that looked like an alchemist’s home, very like Tar’s father’s workshop. The jars from the basket were all over the table and any available surface, as well as the contents of another newly-found basket, clearly once filled with blue vials. Each vial and jar was connected by a thin clear tube, wire or string.

  ‘I even dragged out the cauldron,’ Edarna said chirpily, peering at Issa between the jars. She tapped the cauldron next to her with a long wooden spoon, making it clang loudly.

  The cauldron had just started to boil and a strange sweaty-sweet smell drifted up on the steam. It wasn’t a large cauldron, big enough perhaps to fit her head in. Issa shivered at the thought. Witches weren’t bad, not really, or were they? Issa wondered and then shook her head. No, they were misunderstood, certainly, more willing to get their hands dirty and much less squeamish. At least she hoped they were.

  ‘Another four hours, more or less, and I think we will be there!’ Edarna said wide-eyed and stuck her tongue between her lips in concentration as she stirred. The steam was more like smoke and so thick that Issa could not in fact see the contents within.

  ‘Can I help in anyway,’ Issa offered. Edarna was so engrossed in a faded blue fabric-bound notebook that Issa wondered if she had heard her. She put the book down and searched for something amongst the velvet pouches. The notebook was covered in spidery like scrolls and symbols that meant nothing to Issa.

  ‘Er,’ Edarna started, ‘yes, I need thirty heads of daisies, not sure how many are out there yet though but see what you can get. Don’t be long and don’t stray beyond the clearing. Whilst you slept I created a stronger warding spell about the place that is still settling. I don’t want no wraiths dirtying up the washing tonight!’

  Issa left the old woman to her craft and slipped out the kitchen door, the blue cat following closely. The raven squawked at her sudden appearance from his sunny perch on a tree branch and eyed the cat distastefully. The cat only seemed to grin all the more; its eyes gleamed like golden orbs up at the large bird, pupils the thinnest of slits in the light.

  Issa looked from one to the other and, seeing the raven was the bigger; decided the cat was at most risk and carried on with her business. Issa made a mental note to mention the bird to Edarna, perhaps the witch could offer some wisdom about it.

  It wasn’t too difficult to find daisies, scattered as they were about the garden between the stone rows of various growing vegetables and three apple trees. Issa took her time as she picked the delicate white flowers thinking upon the journey ahead.

  Edarna’s plan concerned her greatly, though no matter which way she looked at it there was no other option; it was leave or die an old woman here, if she ever reached that old.

  No, this place would be swallowed up by the Shadowlands long before then. She shuddered at the thought of the wraiths and her hand went to her throat where the wraith had clung.

  Issa sat down on a long flat rock, still warm from the sun as the last rays reached over the trees and across the garden. Her eyes settled upon the thin gnarly trunks of the apple trees and a lump formed in her throat as quick as the tears formed in her eyes. So much had changed; so much had been lost, all in fact, with no warning or preparation.

  I cannot cry, she thought, otherwise my resolve will crumble and I will not have the strength to leave. She sighed hard, angry at not being able to let go, to relax.

  ‘Will I ever find peace again?’ she asked, staring at the blue cat that sat in front of her, its tail gracefully curled around its front paws. The raven was still sat on its perch busily preening itself with one eye constantly darting back to the cat.

  When the last rays of sun left her seat she got up and went inside. Edarna now solely worked upon the contents of the cauldron and sprinkled the daisies Issa gave her into the black pot.

  ‘Nearly done,’ she said with a grin that creased her cheeks into wrinkles, ‘an hour more with heat and two to settle and we shall be done. Whilst you were out I worked my own spells into it, one needs solace and concentration to work spells.

  ‘Looks like baked potatoes for dinner since this takes up the hob,’ Edarna said apologetically.

  Issa nodded vigorously, her stomach already rumbling hungrily.

  An hour or so after supper the potion was cool and ready to be bottled, or jarred in this case. It didn’t look quite how Issa had expected. Instead of a liquid it was more like a paste, dark and green like boiled spinach and much worse-smelling. Edarna spooned it carefully into the large jar, filling it over two thirds full and pushing a small teaspoon inside before closing the lid tightly.

  ‘I shall keep a small amount back for me, just in case,’ Edarna explained grim-faced. ‘Now then,’ she said passing the jar to Issa, ‘this is enough for a month and pray to the Goddess that will be long enough to reach the Main Land.’ Issa swallowed hard. ‘Any longer taking this stuff and you will become a wraith for good.’

  Edarna reached into a cupboard and passed Issa a small wooden cup. ‘When you know you are in the Shadowlands, and believe me you will know, take one level teaspoon once a day mixed into a full cup of sea water until you leave the Shadowlands. This means you will always need to be beside the sea.

  ‘You will appear as a wraith to the Lost Ones and Forsaken, they will not be able to detect your life force. You shall loose all colour in your skin and expect to lose weight, this stuff is not without its consequences and I cannot be sure of them all, each person reacts differently.’
>
  Issa looked reluctantly at the dark green paste in the jar. Edarna spoke, reading her mind.

  ‘As far as Keteth is concerned I do not know. He did not detect me all those years ago but he is stronger now. I advise extreme caution and hide whenever you suspect he might be near. This potion will help lessen the effects of his luring magic but you shall not be immune. Know your own mind and your enemy’s.

  ‘Now, there are a few more things you must know of the Shadowlands. There is no sun, there is no moon and no stars, the night is as the day, all cloaked in mist and fog and all is painted varying shades of grey. You will not know when a day has passed so you must look to your body for signs of the potion wearing off, a normal pink patch of skin appearing on your arm or sudden sickness in the stomach or bleeding from the nose.

  ‘You will also begin to see wraiths, lots of them. When that happens take the potion immediately as a day or more will certainly have passed.

  ‘Remember, whilst you are under the effects of the potion you will be a wraith and they will ignore you. I recommend you sleep in hiding in case the potion wears off whilst you sleep. And always, always, keep it at your side. Here,’ Edarna bent down and rummaged in one of the lower cupboards finally pulling out a threadbare shoulder sack just big enough to hold the potion and wooden cup.

  Issa took the bag and slipped it over her head, stuffing the jar and cup into it. She stood there silently for a while staring at the sack and then glanced up at the older woman. ‘Are you sure you will not come too?’ Edarna shook her head, her mouth set firm.

  Issa looked out of the window into the darkness. ‘I guess there is no point waiting around,’ she said quietly, ‘so I shall go as soon as the dawn comes.’

  ‘I thought as much,’ Edarna nodded, ‘though you may stay as long as you wish. Take the rest of the baked potatoes and sweet cakes and anything else you may need.’