The Darkest Light: Book 1 of The Inferno Prophecy

by Mulholland, Daniel

  I open my eyes slowly. It's dark. I quickly look around me and see light in the distance. I begin moving towards it - a buzz and I'm standing in front of the light. A cut across a dark expanse, a small bright light bleeding through like water. Or perhaps like blood? I think to myself. I reach out to touch it. As my fingers make contact I feel a sharp jolt. The light spreads through me, exploring, searching, I feel it reach deep inside me before retreating. And in a moment, it's gone, the light returning to the slit in the wall. lazily trying to drip through.

  I reach out again, this time I pinch the light and it breaks away. I hold it in my hands and look closely. It's alive. It's moving and reshaping, constantly in motion. Rolling around my hand.

  "Now, I want you all to open your real eyes, and when you do I want you to open your hands and release the pinch of light you are holding."

  I do. My eyes open and I take a quick glance around the room, everyone is opening their eyes. Amazement. Shock. Joy. Every face flashing through a multitude of emotions. And as one the students raise their hands and release their light.

  Slowly the lights float into the air, shimmering and dancing. And in seconds they have all reshaped into a globe of energy. They float above each student's head. I look around and notice every light is different. Every globe of light is the same size, but they differ in brightness. Some lights, like mine, are dull and pale, while others are bright and beautiful. Some hurt to look at. I quickly lower my eyes.

  "We have twenty-five battle-born and five scholars! Excellent." Wident's voice rumbles through the classroom.

  Suddenly the globes of light lower onto the desks, and within seconds the class is in darkness. On each desk in front of each student is a mark. My mark is Incendi. My friends all battle-born. We share quick glances as we all come to terms with our new roles.

  I'm disappointed. I spent my childhood dreaming of fighting, of being a powerful battle-born of El-Assum, the mightiest of all casters. I dreamed of glory, I dreamed of fighting the Al-Guul, of bringing honour to my house. I keep my eyes on my desk as it sinks in. I will never fight for my house. I will never see battle. Or glory. Or honour. I will be a scholar.

  Now.

  I close my eyes and retreat to my light. I take a moment to inspect the light. It is like an ocean trying to break through. I pull some of the light through my cut, I shape it and place my hands on the wall, I allow my power to seep into the dark expanse of my well and I guide it, I shape it. I feel the wall crumble, I quickly bring my hands together, a loud clap echoing out into the nothingness. I begin to shape the dark, I don't know how to work the dark, I let my hands loose and the light takes over. Suddenly a bright light flares and then dims. And I open my eyes.

  In front of me is a new well. It has taken on a new shape, new form. An object of brilliant white light, I stare at my well. Amazed. I look around me and take it all in. It used to be dark, nothingness. A void. And now brilliant light shines out for as far as I can see, and in the centre burns a mark. The mark of the battle-born.

  It starts as a throb, and grows. Suddenly my head aches. I open my eyes and I can't see. I feel a thump. Thump. Thump. I can feel it. But it isn't physical. I can sense it. In the light. Thump. Suddenly the whistling turns into an endless blare. Thump. I can't see and all I can hear is the blare of the sanctuary siren. Thump. An explosion rocks the sanctuary and I lose my balance. I'm on my knees. Thump. Thump.

  A wail in the distance. Closing. And then it's filling my head. A high pitch wailing. And then it's over.

  A voice blasts out of the walls, the doors, the ceiling and inside my head. "THE WARDS HAVE FALLEN, THEY ARE INSIDE THE SANCTUARY!".

  Beneath the city.

  The darkness breathes in. It is awake. It stretches out into the endless void. A black cloud coiling and uncoiling. It breathes out. It begins to move. It can sense the ever-light.

  Four – A History of Fire

  She couldn't move. Her legs refused to obey her. Her arms hung loosely at her sides.

  How is any of this possible? she thought, silently. Her eyes focused on the point in the middle of the street where just moments ago, a huge purple and red flame had exploded out from the young man’s mouth and streamed down the street to the three scarred and cloaked men.

  She had woken from a nightmare less than an hour ago, she had witnessed her house burning, her mother lying dead in her bedroom and a death defying chase as those, now very burned and very dead, men had chased the now unconscious boy through the streets of London.

  A loud creak brought her eyes back to the strange stone house with the big wooden door, the door was opening, creaking its way across the path in front of the house. Suddenly figures exploded out of the doorway. The first, a very tall man in a cloak like those of the dead men, immediately went to check on the boy. His fingers pressed to the boys’ neck and his eyes closed. Ten seconds later his eyes opened and he nodded at his friend. He quickly shuffled the boy onto his back and pulled him over his shoulder, standing up and edging back towards the door. His eyes darting up and down the street. The second man, quite short and chubby, hurried over to what was left of the bodies. He sniffed the air, all the while shaking his head in what appeared to be astonishment.

  In a moment, he was on his feet and by the side of the taller man, on his tiptoes and whispering in his ear. They shared a whispered argument, both shaking their heads before walking back inside the door. She could see them walking down a long corridor before the door started creaking shut.

  As the door closed, she saw the mark. A long-twisted flame chiselled into the old wooden door. Her head throbbed and she remembered.

  5 years ago

  She sat with her back against the wall, her bedroom door closed directly in front of her, she was humming to herself as she fingered the charm hanging around her neck. Next week was her birthday, and the locket had been an early gift from her dad. A silver dragon with a long tail and a thin flame twisting around its body.

  She could hear her parents down the hallway. Arguing quietly. They did this a lot now. It started around six months earlier, as her birthday got closer and closer the arguments became more frequent, more heated.

  She could only make out a few words of their broken argument, she stopped humming and closed her eyes, trying to make out as much as she could.

  "She needs to know... it's... the mark!" creaking of the floorboards as one of her parents moved around the room. "She turns 12 next week... learning begins... she... the mark."

  "We agreed to... we left the sanctuary... she can't..."

  She didn't understand any of it, she dropped the dragon down the front of her t-shit and picked up her magazine.

  Now.

  She quickly reached for her necklace, pulling out of her shirt and holding it up in front of her face. The flame, identical to the flame twisting along the edge of the big wooden door. She tucked her dragon away and edged closer to the door.

  She was close enough to make out the splinters of wood along the flame, the bell resting to the right of the door just above her head, the smell of smoke that seemed to emanate from the door itself. She breathed the smell in, and remembered.

  5 years ago

  It was the day before her birthday, she was outside in the garden. It was a warm day, the beautiful rays of sun piercing the soft white clouds dotted in the bright blue sky, she could feel the sunlight on her face, the warmth spreading through her body. She could feel it in her fingertips that rested on the top of wooden table that sat in middle of her garden.

  Her parents were in the kitchen, arguing again. She could see them through the window. Her mom was agitated, her arms were dancing through the air and her soft brown hair was flying back and forth in front of her face as she tried so hard to make a point to her dad. Her dad was shaking his head, his arms crossed and his face angry.

  She turned back to the table, trying so hard to block it out. It was every day now. She focused on the wood, sliding her hands back and forth over its smooth su
rface. She could hear her dad's raised voice now. She shut her eyes tight and hummed to herself. A tear broke away from her eye and slid slowly down her face, tickling its way to her chin and dropping to the table.

  She could see the small droplet as it pooled next to her hand. She touched it softly with her finger, feeling the wetness of her tear. A roar and she was flying backwards through the air, she landed on her backside with a thump. It hurt. Tears welled and she blinked them away, shakily getting back to her feet.

  She looked back to the table as her parents rushed through the patio door. All she could remember were the flames. Everywhere. The table was gone. In its place were flames, roaring to the heavens. Her mom was screaming. Her dad was pointing at the fire and chanting.

  Now.

  She slowly touched the door, the wood was warm, she was running her hands down the length of the flame. She felt something hot against her chest, she threw her hand up and felt her necklace. Pulling it out again. The dragon was glowing. It was hot. And it was alive.

  Before she had a chance to even think what this could mean, heat enveloped her. She backed away from the door, her eyes darting around her, a look of panic and fear on her face. She backed away further. Looking to the sky. But there was no sky. Only fire. Long streaks of fire coming from the end of the street and angling towards the stone house she stood in front of.

  As the flames closed in on the house, they met an invisible barrier. The flames sparked and rebounded, dying out as an endless torrent of fire streaked across the sky. She could feel a soft thumping inside her head. She looked back at the door, the heat that came from it warmed her, it made her feel safe. The bell to the right glowed, much like her dragon charm. She moved closer to ring the bell.

  As her hand reached up, a screaming wail filled her mind. She clasped her head in her hands and screamed. And then it was gone. She looked to the sky and the flames streaking across it. As the flames closed in, she expected them to be halted by the barrier.

  An explosion knocked her from her feet as the flames hit the house.

  Beneath the city.

  The darkness could taste the light now, could feel its warmth. It breathed in. It could taste it. It moved closer. It breathed out. And then it sensed it. The brightest light amid the ever-light. And something else. Something warmer. Glowing.

  "Ahh, the dragon-heart awakes." a dark voice thundered, echoing into the void, followed by a rumbling and a smile. The darkness breathed in.

  Five – Al Guul

  I throw the heavy wooden door open and stumble from the room, still groggy and my head still sore from the bang it took. The sanctuary is in chaos, all around me people rush by, the smell of smoke and burning in the air. The voices, the cries, the screams and the shouts being swallowed by the thundering blasts raining down on the sanctuary.

  I stumble down the stone corridor, one hand on the wall supporting my weight. The cold of the floor seeping into my feet. I see a woman fall at the end of the corridor, a figure looming over her and I run. I close the gap quickly and see the scarred face of a traitor smiling down at the woman.

  I quickly dive into my well, I feel the light around me and I pull on it, I beg and I plead with the light to obey, I pull at the light and wrap it around my hand and like a brilliant white snake it coils around my arm and I open my eyes.

  "Asi al guul, asi al guul" I scream

  5 years ago

  "SILENCE." Wident's voice booms, a thunder shock reverberating off the walls and slamming into the students. "You will listen closely, today we will be learning to cast Al Guul, the dragons’ breath. I want you all to enter your well. Feel the light. Do not control it. You are one with the light, but you are not its master. I want you all to pull on the light, guide it in your hand, let it encase your arm."

  I could feel the light wrapping itself around my arm, tightening, it was not an unpleasant feeling. Cold and warm, like ice and fire. The light was alive, moving and rolling, coiling as it moved up my arm. I could almost hear it whispering to me.

  "Now I want you to open your hand, palm facing outward. I want you to walk to the light, guide it. You will feel it respond and it will allow you to shape it. Palms forward! Tell the light "asi al guul", repeat it until you feel the light respond." Wident's voice, soft and distant this time.

  I was concentrating on the light, I could feel slithering along my arm, the hairs on the back of my neck were standing, shivers down my back and I whispered the incantation.

  Now

  I felt the light break and shatter, I felt the heat as the ethereal light turned to physical flame. Shades of purple and orange and red in a hazy blur speeding along my arm, twisting and flowing like water as it reached its peak and exploded from my hand.

  The first thing I noticed was the energy, the power. Stronger than my normal castings but not nearly as powerful as the mighty explosion I caused in front of the sanctuary. The fire flipped out of my upward facing palm and roared towards the traitor.

  His face changed. Shock and disbelief. A gasp. A hand raised. But it was too late, he hadn't noticed me coming up the hall, he hadn't heard my incantation, too focused on his murderous task of bringing to ash a defenceless woman, a gleeful smile and a look of cocky victory had become a look of complete defeat.

  The fire entered his chest. The sickly smell of charred and burning flesh, a wisp of smoke. The hole. No blood, the heat of the flame instantly cauterising the wound as the flame passed through skin and bone like wire through a slab of cream cheese, leaving behind only black and smoke where once beat a vibrant and healthy heart.

  Before the body of the traitor had hit the ground, I had the woman on her feet and hurrying down the hall towards the sanctuary quarters where the scholars and uninitiated would wait the outcome of the battle. I made my way through the sanctuary, the woman trailing alongside me as people rushed by in both directions. I could tell the warriors from the scholars, long flowing dark cloaks with twists of flames spiralling around the gold flecked hems, faces in deep concentration, some in rage, some in humour.

  The enemy had come calling, they had arrived on the doorstep of the El-Assum, greatest of all the magi and her warriors were ready to answer the call, giving life and light to protect their house.

  Beneath the city

  It could feel the light, the pure, untapped light in the wells of the so-called magi. The focused and tainted light of the fire castings. The energy firing back and forth as magi fought magi and it was amused. Fickle and small, insignificant and weak.

  And then he noticed the brightest of the light, pure and beautiful. Physical bliss. The power. And it felt the focused light. The brightest. But still so weak. The darkness smiled. Tendrils of void, nothingness, reaching out towards the light the darkness closed in.

  Six – Fire and Shadow

  The bell rang. A tingling that started at her fingertip turned to a shock of electricity, she stood there in front of the huge wooden door, immobilised as electricity coursed through her body. Her dragon charm burned and glowed as the current raced through her veins and slipped back into the bell.

  She felt a heat coming from the door, she could feel it stretching out, searching - she felt it touch her and inspect her, she felt the heat from her dragon charm rise in response and then it was gone. With a click and a creak the door swung open, she stepped inside.

  Inside was dark, a long corridor stretching out before her. She moved along in the dark, she could hear crashing and banging in the distance and felt the thuds as the blasts of fire continued to rain down on the building. She walked on. Seconds ticking by into minutes.

  She could see a light ahead, a warm orange glow that grew and grew as she walked. Fire. The building must be burning. She stopped, frozen. Her heart was racing and sweat was dripping down her forehead. She remembered the smell of smoke, the slow walking, the puddle of blood and her mom. She sobbed. Her charm glowed and she felt its heat. She wiped away the tear and walked towards the fire.

  5 years agor />
  "You saw what she did!" she could hear her mom screaming at her father. It had been a week since the fire, her dad had been gone. She thought it was her fault, she had cried and cried and begged for him to come home, her mom looked at her with fear, warily, always keeping her distance.

  "We can't return to the sanctuary, we made a decision to protect her and we must stand by it. The alternative is far worse, you know it." her dad, a calm voice as he tried to placate her mom. She didn't understand what they were talking about, she was just happy her dad was back. He had arrived home an hour before, stepping into her room and embracing her, a soft kiss on her forehead as he told her everything was going to be okay.