Looming Shadow: Journey to Chaos book 2

by Brian Wilkerson

  “That's right,” she cooed. “I am light; I am your light.” She touched the tip of her crystal to the orb of darkness in the Grendel’s mass. “I will lead you back to yourself.”

  Chapter 17 Rebirth

  A flash of holy light illuminated the landscape. The home he was born in, the school he spent thirteen years in, a generic business building he worked in, Royal's public library where he lived for nine days, the Dragon's Lair, Roalt Royal Castle, the Altar of Rebirth, Mount Daici, and Mount Heios; all of them were mixed together into a bizarre conglomeration. When Eric woke up, it was all he could see. It was in the air and the ground like Escher’s daydreams. All of it was shrouded in ever-thickening mist. If not for the light, it would hide everything and he would think the place a white void.

  It wasn’t Fog because if it were, then it would be exhilarating to breathe. This was just plain old air. Another curiosity was his completely human form. Theoretically, it was possible to mana mutate into himself, but it was an astronomical chance.

  What the abyss is going on? What happened? The mana explosion loomed large in his mind and again he looked around the landscape. He saw a vaguely familiar castle and somewhat familiar mountains and couldn't quite name the buildings mixed in. The Fog of Ages! It's um....ah... something to do with mana mutation...can't remember...Can't remember! Monsters can't remember anything...What was I thinking about?

  He detected movement in the clouds. A small outline of a shadow stood just beyond his field of vision. Instead of calling to it, Eric chased it. As he closed the distance, he made out details: humanoid, short, and scrawny. He pounced and pinned it to the ground.

  “Let me go!” his prey shouted and struggled. “You're scary!”

  “I'm not scary!” Eric spun the kid about. “I'm...me?”

  The kid was himself minus sixteen or so years.

  Eric stared at the smaller, younger, and weaker version of himself. That face and those clothes brought back a mess of memories. Old Eric...I thought I buried you in the Kyraan desert and left you to rot in Tahart's apartment.

  Snarling, he squeezed the kid's arms. “Who are you!?”

  “I'm Eric Watley!” the kid said, eyes welling up. “Please stop hurting me!”

  “You can't be Eric Watley! I'm Eric Watley!”

  “No, you’re not,” a third voice said.

  Both of them turned to a figure older than both of them. He was tall, thin, and pale, as though he'd never seen the sun. His hair was a shade of purple instead of red like the other two and he walked with his eyes closed. He wore an ankle-length robe embroidered with runes. He carried a staff in one hand and a book in the other. His feet never touched the ground because a disc of air supported them.

  “I am Eric Watley, and this is my partner. I call hir Staff Soiléir.”

  Staff Soiléir flashed in response, like BloodDrinker.

  “All the tricks of Chaos couldn't make you Eric Watley.”

  A fourth figure stepped forward. He was of the same age and height as the mage, but muscular and tan. He wore a simple tunic and pants, but visible underneath were chain mail and a segmented plate. His face looked like a thunder god’s and he was eating a peach. A ring of daggers rested on his waist and one more in his free hand.

  “I am Eric Watley.”

  “Oh, this is just great! I'm having an identity crisis!”

  He pointed at the kid. “You're the young Threan me.”

  He pointed to the other two figures. “You're me as a mage and a mercenary. Something must messed my mind…How I fix this? Eat them!...Why I say that? Eat them! I’m not speaking cor-Eat them! What’s go-Eat them!”

  The mage charged a bolt, the mercenary took a fighting stance, and the kid wailed and ran away. Eric didn’t reach for a weapon because he was himself was a weapon.

  His right arm grew big and thick, and the skin from his shoulder to his fingers turned gray and rough. All the weight of a stone arm coming at once forced him into an awkward gait. His legs became long and muscular and fur sprouted from the waist down. He dashed past the two before they knew it. Small one gone. New target is thin one. He pivoted to a stop as scales filled his left arm and interlocking metal spikes grew on his back. His chest was crystal.

  Mana bolt at head –

  The bolt collided with his rocky shield a moment later. Mercenary dodged the one fired at him. Mage stayed out of close range by jumping backwards and firing a continuous steam of mana. Monster rushed forward with his rock arm positioned like a battering ram. Mage side-jumped with ease, but the charge distracted him long enough for Mercenary to throw a dagger at his chest. It clattered uselessly against the barrier Mage summoned to protect himself.

  He looked haughtily at the angry Mercenary and once again let himself be distracted long enough for Monster to swing at him with the rock arm. It smashed the barrier and every rib in the left side of his body. He fell forwards and the dagger that Mercenary expertly timed found its mark in Monster's unprotected forehead. He laughed merrily while Mage muttered and suddenly a swarm of fireballs surrounded him. Unable to dodge them all, he burned to death.

  All was quiet in the mist.

  Mage stood up and breathed easily. Monster pulled the dagger out of his forehead and the wound closed. Mercenary's burns healed in a wave that left pink skin in its wake. The three warriors – Mage, Mercenary, and Monster – formed a triangle to keep an eye on the other two. Kid ran through the center, screaming like a banshee. Once he was gone and quiet returned, Mercenary pointed an accusing finger at Monster.

  “You have the gall to call us fakes?! You're not even human! You can't be Eric Watley!”

  “I'm right!” Mage said in agreement. “Eric Watley is a mage who uses his skills for mercantile work, or a mercenary who accomplishes missions with magic. What are you supposed to be!?”

  “Eat them! I'm the sapient Eat them! who does both! Eat them!”

  “Did you hear that?” Mage asked.

  “I did,” Mercenary answered.

  “The monster wants to eat us.”

  Kid's wailing assaulted their ears and all three plugged them. Monster only managed the left ear and was soon deaf in the right. As one, they all turned in Kid's direction to tell him to shut up, but what walked out of the mist wasn't Kid.

  “So this is what you were like as a child,” three voices said.

  It was a tall and slender man of moderate age, wearing a runed robe. Golden-brown hair and pointed ears sprouted on all three of his heads. The first was ugly because of dull hair, an overly long nose, and blemished skin. The second looked predatory with sharp eyes and a hooked nose. The third was refined with sage-like posture and expression, and glowed with grey light.

  “This will be fun,” Shadow Dengel said. “Like plucking the wings off a fly.”

  “This will be the first step in my rebirth,” Fragment Dengel said.

  “This is an opportunity,” Grey Dengel said. “I'd like to study him with you.”

  “Dengel!” Mage and Mercenary shouted.

  “MetEat them!aphor for my relatiEat them! It meEat them!ans that I Eat them!”

  “Right now, all of us stand on equal ground,” Fragment Dengel said. “I will take this body for my own after I destroy you.” He held Kid up by the hair. “Starting with this one.”

  He crushed Kid's head and the rest of him dissolved into dust. Then he breathed it in and the other three Erics cried out in pain. Energy crackled over their forms as the balance shifted and they flickered transparently before settling.

  “I can't let him win!” the three Erics said simultaneously.

  Monster, Mage and Mercenary swiftly formed a second triangle to surround their common foe. Mercenary gave the signal and they all attacked at once. Mage charged a bolt while Monster pounced with his right arm cocked and Mercenary dashed from the left with his daggers. Fragment Dengel blocked both attacks with a barrier and then blew them away with his spiritual power.

  Raising his right hand high, Fragmen
t Dengel called down a barrage of mana bolts on Mage. He was taken by surprise and saved only by Staff Soiléir’s quick thinking. It projected a barrier that saved him, but they were so heavily pinned down they couldn’t move. Their shield cracked by the second.

  “Stop this at once!” Grey Dengel demanded. “The magical aspect of my student is the only part worth preserving.”

  “Everything he knows, I taught him or his mentor,” Fragment Dengel countered. “There is nothing to gain academically by sparing him. He is a loose end.”

  “Kill the little shit,” Shadow Dengel concurred.

  Monster jumped attacked but Fragment Dengel threw him away with ease. Mercenary threw an endless stream of daggers, but all of them were blocked. Mage's own barrier finally broke and the elf's mana bolts bombarded both him and Staff Soiléir into dust. Monster and Mercenary screamed in agony, clutching their hearts, sobbing and screaming! Shadow Dengel laughed and Grey Dengel wept. Fragment Dengel paid neither aspect any heed until he absorbed Mage's essence.

  The elven mage pulled a staff out of the mist. It was a long oak staff adorned with precious jewels, with a quartz pommel, and a curved wooden blade. In a flash, he harpooned Mercenary, but Monster intercepted with his rock arm. The blade pierced his shield and lanced his arm with pain. Mercenary threw a dagger from underneath at Dengel's chest. The elf groaned as the blade sank into his flesh, but he pushed the blade out and closed the wound.

  An explosive bolt tore Monster's arm apart and left him incapacitated with torment. Dengel raised his blade to finish him when Mercenary plunged a second dagger into his chest and fired mana through it for good measure. The mana flowed from the elf's chest to his arm, then his hand, and then straight back to Mercenary as a devastating beam.

  Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!!!!!

  “I wish I had time to teach him that trick,” Grey Dengel said sadly.

  “He didn't deserve it,” Shadow Dengel said hatefully.

  Fragment Dengel sucked up Mercenary's essence and chain mail appeared beneath his robes. The ancient mage approached the crippled monster in great self-satisfaction. With a single strike, he pinned the creature in place.

  “My deepest apologies,” Fragment Dengel deadpanned, “but my return is far more important to the world than yours.”

  “Wa? Wamrld?” Monster garbled. “Wtos tsa na?”

  “You have already succumbed to monsanity. Pity.”

  “His memories are gone,” Grey Dengel said. “He cannot remember who or where he is. He is harmless to us. Leave him be.”

  “Make sure he's dead!” Shadow Dengel shrieked.

  “The last time I 'let him be,' I was cast out of his body,” Fragment Dengel said. “This is the only way to be sure.”

  Mana gathered in his free hand and compressed into a seed of lethal power.

  Rain fell from the sky and quickly built into a knee-length pool. Fragment Dengel looked in confusion. Shadow Dengel commanded the rain to stop falling. It fell faster. Grey Dengel, with his sage-like knowledge, was the only one to know the rain’s meaning. To assist its purpose, he distracted Shadow Dengel with his hatred of water and Fragment Dengel with a discussion about his history of water victories long enough for a sphere of water to enclose Monster like an egg. It cradled him in security and happiness. A whirlpool trapped Dengel and spun him with ruthless prejudice.

  Who are you? What are you? Why are you?

  The monster stared blankly. The noises didn't make sense to it. Noises meant food, but where was the noise? It was everywhere. The same noises appeared again. No matter how it looked or smelled, the noises only existed as noises. More noises, different noises, lots of noises. They were all pleasant to listen to his ears. A beam of light cut the mist and shined on him alone.

  Muuussiccc...Music ... melodies ... patterns ...rhythms... More noises and more music and more of something else he couldn't quite grasp. ...rhythms... spells.... magic.... magecraft.... mentor...More noises and…and...and...what was it?! members...mates...

  His arms felt weird. A strange tingly and pulling and shaping; molding. Spreading everywhere; legs and back and...he...remembered feeling this way onc – Memories!

  Images and information and events! Liquid going in both ears and staying. Far from painful or annoying, it was welcome; it was joy! He cried out and soaked in the flood of precious memories!

  The noises came again and he could make sense of them! They were cries for him; memories of him – desire to bring him back. He felt stronger with each one. Each one of his replies was long and convoluted and complex and made him stronger.

  The first voice disappeared, but the others remained. All the water drained away and Monster was instead cradled by the chorus of voices. Monster then casually walked over and punched Dengel with all the force of his right arm. The elf soared out of the whirlpool and landed on his back. He dodged Monster’s pounce, but only because Monster was not aiming for him. His true target was Staff Soiléir. Dengel tightened his grip and pulled back.

  “I devoured your other parts!” Fragment Dengel hissed. “I know every trick you could possibly try!” Monster tugged and Fragment Dengel pulled, but the stalemate remained. Shadow Dengel laughed. “All you have left is the brutish monster! You have nothing, you are nothing! I am Dengel and you are Mindless!”

  “Wrong!” Grey Dengel boomed. “I am Dengel and he is my student!”

  The scholarly aspect stuck its tongue into the ear of the fragment and, for just a moment, it was distracted. Then, in one smooth motion, Monster pried Staff Soiléir from his hands, and sliced off the three heads. The body instantly dissolved and its dust was breathed in by Monster.

  Light plate mail appeared on his upper body and chain mail covered his arms to his fingers to his feet. A robe grew out of them and over them. Twin daggers appeared at his waist and Staff- Soiléir resumed hir true form on his back. His ears became pointed and his hair became golden-brown. He looked upon the three heads at his feet, not with hatred but with compassion.

  “Shadow, I’m sorry you’re so ugly. I shouldn’t have made you like that. It’s a reflection of my self-doubt and hatred. I didn’t think I could measure up to the real you, so I created a straw man to make myself feel better. From now on, no more mud flinging for me. You deserve better than that.”

  Shadow Dengel glared in unadulterated hatred. The rock arm crushed him.

  “Fragment, I don’t blame you for what you tried to do here. If I were in your position, I’d do the same thing. I have people waiting for me, and my own scholastic contributions to magic to make. In fact, my paper about conserving mana in desperate situations is going to be published in the Royal Mage Monthly. If I push myself to become stronger than you, it will be for a reason like supporting my team instead of surpassing you. I still don’t like you, but after meeting Grey Dengel, I don’t hate you anymore. I'm not going to throw you out again. I can't do that; no mage can do that.”

  Fragment Dengel scowled in mild annoyance. The rock arm crushed him too.

  “Grey, you are the Dengel I imagined when Basilard gave me The Spirit and Its Power. You are old, wise, dignified, confident, and quietly tremendously powerful. You represent Dengel’s best traits and so you are the one I should measure myself by.”

  Grey Dengel nodded. Then his expression turned solemn.

  “Be wary yet, Eric Watley. There are two shadows looming over you. Dakol’s blessing is part of you and it will draw light to you. You must transcend shadow and achieve true darkness to overcome. Death will also follow you and seek your assimilation. If you fall to senescence, then you will lose yourself once again. When a mage has the attention of gods, a quiet life is impossible.”

  The lizard arm picked him up gently and brought him next to the body's heart. There it was incorporated into the crystal chest. It was hidden within armor and robes, but revealed in spirit.

  The figure standing in the landscape was no longer Eric Watley, but someone new. It looke
d like a human in all aspects expect for subtle clues that they were anything but: the slit in his irises, the fangs behind his lips, the claws on his fingers, and the inner workings of a Grendel. His ears pointed and his hair shone golden-brown like an elf. He bore the garments of both mage and mercenary with a hole in the center of the body for a second head; a grey one belonging to an elder elf. It was from the shadow of this figure that a new Eric appeared.

  This one wore the same clothes and used the same basic body type, but everything else was hidden, either by clothes or by shadow.

  “I am nondescript. I am overlooked. I am hidden in plain sight. I am your true self revealed and concealed simultaneously. You will not truly know yourself until you find me, but with me, you cannot truly know yourself. Light the path until you see only darkness. If you can do this, then you will achieve true earthly enlightenment.”

  “I will see you again when I can’t see myself in the brightest day. Only when I escape every sight will we meet in the blackest night.”

  The shadows disappeared and the clothes fell to the ground. Then they rose up once more, bigger and broader, with a scythe coming out of one arm instead of a staff. Rotten arms extended from the sleeves and it threw back a hood to reveal a corpse-like head.

  “Rot and decay. Rot and decay. Rot and decay. Rot and decay!”

  It swung a scythe of warped wood and rusty metal into the symbol for infinity.

  “The steady corrosion of the solid and the strong is perfectly suited to one such as you! A scavenger of spirits and drinker of dregs found rebirth in the ashes of the past. Surely it is no coincidence that of all the authorities of Death, you chose the one closest to Chaos!”

  The ghoul extended a rotting, discolored, and smelly hand.

  “This is true power. Nothing can escape decay. Order himself must feed or he will shrivel into nothing. Accept me and I will make you the most powerful warrior in all of Creation.”

  “I refuse. I’m not interested in power for its own sake. Besides, I don’t like you.”

  The corpse snarled and, in the space of a blink, it became a fifty-foot dragon. Organs were exposed in its chest. Rotting chunks of muscle hung in parts of its face. Its tail was entirely skeletal, and its wings were funeral shrouds. It was a monument of senescence.