Wings of Light Special Edition

by Lloyd Baron

  Canace. Had she not been with Canace just a moment ago? They were traveling somewhere together. She stops to think, but the flowers draw back her attention and she bends to get the scent of a bunch of daises. The aroma fills her nostrils and she makes happy sounds.

  The sea of flowers goes on forever, and she seems to have walked miles but her feet are not even remotely tired. She approaches a small fence with a wooden gate and she has to open it to continue onwards. The field beyond is full of lavender. The purple flowers sway delicately in the soft breeze as she pushes through them and into the last field.

  Ahead of her she sees a small cottage. High stone walls surround it on all sides, covered in vines and blooms. Riochald smiles to herself, reminded of the Bling house back home.

  She approaches the cottage and for the first time since arriving here in the world of flowers she feels a twinge of fear. The walls are cold and damp but they should be dry and warm under the perfect sky and sun. She follows the walls around until she reaches an iron gate, rusted into it. She tries to open it but it is stuck firmly in place.

  An idea seeps into her head. She reaches out a hand and places it on the wall either side of the gate. Summoning the element of earth she forces it into the spell, quake. The wall crumbles around the gate and with a crash the black iron hits the ground. She lets go of the power and smiles at her work. Tak’arshi would be proud of her.

  Tak’arshi. She looks away from the cottage and into the multicolored world beyond. Has she not just been talking to the man? She shakes her head and pushes into the opening.

  This side of the wall is very different. The vines are all dead and withered. No color remains here. She touches one of the brown vines and it snaps off in her hand. Everything is dead.

  Muttering a curse, she turns her attention to the cottage. It is a small structure of rock. There seems to be no door and all of the windows are so dirty she cannot see through them.

  “How do I get in?” she mumbles to herself as she circles the building. When she reaches the hole in the wall she realizes that she has done a complete circuit of the house and there defiantly is no door. “Well, I will have to make one then.”

  Recalling the power of earth, she summons a stronger spell. Thrusting her arms out she screams, “Ram,” and the power is unleashed. The wall explodes inwards with such force that it hits the other side of the structure and punches a hole through it.

  Darkness floods out. The ground turns black before her feet and begins to crack and crumble. She jumps backwards, yet it keeps coming, spreading from the hole in a wave. She flees from it through the stone wall and back into the lavender. The vines on the outside of the wall begin to wither and die. In a matter of seconds the small cottage is black and crumbling away.

  It does not stop there. The fringes of the lavender begin to die and rot and then it moves further in towards her. The ground beneath her groans and then shakes once violently. She braces herself for more but it has stopped. The flowers touched by the darkness turn to dust, but the darkness does not move any closer.

  Riochald covers her mouth and nose as a foul stench fills the air. She takes a step towards the house and tries to peer in through the hole she has made. She steps onto the dead soil and it gives way under her feet. Everything collapses around her. She only just makes it to safety as the house and walls sink into a great hole in the ground.

  The darkness begins to spread again, faster this time. The lavender begins to die around her and the soil becomes a mush. The hole grows larger, eating up more of the land and speeding up with each second. She turns and flees.

  The decay is faster than she is. She reaches the fence just as the field the other side of it begins to die, the colors fading to browns and greys. She rushes on, panic setting in. Her heart beats so fast that she cannot breathe and she stumbles to the ground. Her hands sink into the rotting soil. She tries to pull them clear but they are stuck firmly.

  The whole world shakes, and the noise of falling rock and mud thunders through her ears. Looking back over her shoulder she sees the nothingness racing to claim her: an emptiness—a hole.

  Memories flood back to her. Sitting under a tree with Tak’arshi, talking about her power and emotions, telling him about what she saw inside him. What she saw!

  She is somehow there, inside his mind. She looks at the approaching nothing and screams her frustration. This is his mind. The house was keeping the hole in. In the girl’s mind there was no house, no walls and the nothingness claimed her. Tak’arshi was safe as long as the walls of the house stayed up and the darkness kept within. She has let it out. She has killed him. She grits her teeth and screams through them as the wave hits her and she tumbles into open space.

  Riochald sits up screaming. Fia is at her side in moments, his powerful arms holding her again. She takes comfort in his presence for a moment, then pushes him off and gets to her shaky feet. Tak’arshi is laid out on the forest floor, a blanket covering his body. She rushes to him. Dropping to her knees, she calls the power of the oil and it snakes out of her. It enters through his ear and into his brain. She feels it then—the hole is growing massive in his mind, removing his memories, personality and all his knowledge. It feeds on him like a parasite.

  “What happened?” Chaz screams at her, grabbing her by the shoulders. Riochald stands and swings her fist into the mountain girl’s face. She floors the girl with little effort and steps over her, ignoring her cries. The tendril of darkness still attached to Tak’arshi.

  “He is going to die. It is my fault. I wanted to see into his mind to help him but I made it so much worse. It is killing him.” She breaks down and drops to her knees. A force clutches her, twisted and demented; evil and sickening. She feels it slide over the surface of her skin, wanting to be let in, wanting to have control. She fights it away but it lashes at her face and she opens her eyes wide as it claws into her. Her eyes become dark puddles of oil and her tears leave black stains down her cheeks. When she speaks her voice is no longer hers, it is deep and void of feeling. “It will eat away his mind until there is nothing left. Death would be better than that.” She stands abruptly and snatches the dagger from Tarfleam’s belt. The man yells, but she summons and a wind knocks him from his feet.

  She lifts the dagger above the Dark Clan’s chest and is about to stab it into him when Fia launches himself at her. She thrusts the blade into his shoulder and the two of them fall backwards. The despair of what she has done falls away from her and her eyes lighten; the force losing the fight to claim her.

  The healer rushes to them and puts a hand onto the heavily bleeding wound. “This is not too bad.” He glares at Riochald before lifting the warrior to his feet.

  “Something is happening to Tak’arshi,” Canace screams. She turns away from the man and sobs into Darwin’t’s arms. Riochald pushes her fears away and tries to focus on the training she has just had. She calms herself and calls the others to look at her. She quickly explains what she had seen and done. The others are distraught. Tak’arshi thrashes once and falls still again.

  “Flowers,” Tarfleam says under his breath. “Maybe the flowers somehow kept the darkness at bay!” He grows excited and races to the Dark Clan’s side. He drops to a crouch and places his hands upon the floor. The grass around them begins to grow, entwining around his fingers and up his arm. Small white buds open up with the tall grass and a sweet smell drifts from them. Riochald shudders and steps forwards. The link between her and Tak’arshi is still open and she can feel the emptiness growing.

  “It is slowing it down, but it is not stopping it. The memory of flowers is strong and the darkness has to devour them, but it will not stop it. I do not know what to do.”

  Canace pulls out of Darwin’t’s arms and looks at him in the eyes. “I think this might help.” She steps through the ever-growing grass and sits the other side. She looks at Tarfleam, who manages a smile though he is straining to hold the power.

  She lowers herself over the Dark Clan and gen
tly kisses him on the lips. She holds it for a few seconds and then sits up, her eyes searching for Riochald.

  “Something happened,” she says with a confused shake of her head. “But it was weak.” In the moment Canace’s lips had touched the Dark Clan’s the darkness stopped dead, but then pushed on. There had been an unknown feeling along the line of decay trying to halt its growth.

  “Weak?” Derry’n repeats.

  “Yes,” she shakes her head again. “It was like I felt something from him. An emotion! But it couldn’t take hold. It was not like love or passion, more fondness then anything.”

  “Canace is just a poor kisser,” Danlynn mutters. Darwin’t goes to make a move towards him, but Danlynn holds up his hands to calm his friend. “All I meant is that he seems to want strong emotions. You said her kiss was without passion. Like a kiss from a friend and not a lover.”

  Riochald nods.

  “What happened to the darkness in him when she kissed him?” Fia asks from his place beside the bleeding Chaz. The healer tends to his shoulder while the big man smoothes the hair from the girl’s face.

  “It stopped for a moment, like it did when Tarfleam first used his power.”

  “He grew up in the Dark Clan city,” Derry’n mutters as he strides around Canace and lifts her away from the dying man. “They are all male.” He lowers his powerful body upon Tak’arshi; his left hand runs across his chest while his right slides over his cheek and into his hair. “If you can feel this,” he says aloud. “I love you, Sabastian.” He kisses the man’s cold lips softly at first and then with a bit of passion.

  Riochald grabs her chest and tears spill from her eyes. She feels the emotion coming from Derry’n, strong and overwhelming. She looks at the odd scene before her and smiles. “It is retreating. The emotion is stronger than the emptiness.”

  Derry’n stops and looks up at the group. His eyes are wet with his own tears and his hands shake.

  “No. It’s coming back. Derry’n, do not stop!”

  “Kiss him again,” Danlynn roars.

  Derry’n looks up at the man with a mixture of confusion and acceptance. He had feared the others finding out about his feelings for another man. Feared he would lose the friends they were becoming. He had not expected them to look at him with the same eyes as before. Nothing has changed.

  He nods at Danlynn before pressing his lips back onto Tak’arshi’s. He imagines the night of the ball and the tender first kiss from Sabastian. Tak’arshi stirs under him and his eyes open, but he still does not return to them.

  “What is wrong with him?” Canace wails. “Is he too far gone?”

  “Oh, by the Light, please don’t kill him,” Tarfleam mutters to himself before grabbing both Derry’n and Tak’arshi, grass still wrapped around his arms. He opens himself to that dark place, and at once the watcher turns to look at him. Ignoring it, the best he can he finds the bright light of Derry’n’s emotions and the hollowness of Tak’arshi. Not really knowing how, he spans the two, bridging it with a flow of life power of his own; at the same moment Riochald falls backwards clutching her stomach. Thick black bile pours from her mouth over the grass. The green plants wither and die at its touch.

  Tak’arshi sits up, knocking the boys away from him. He appraises the group. His eyes come to rest on Derry’n and his face falls into one of despair. Tears flood from the Dark Clan and he sobs like a baby, wailing into the night.

  “He’s crying!” Darwin’t mutters.

  “He can’t be,” Danlynn pipes in. “He has no emotions.”

  “He felt mine,” Derry’n adds.

  “But you are no longer connected!” Canace screams.

  “Maybe it was the bridge I made,” Tarfleam says with a shrug.

  “He is crying a lot,” the old healer points out, “for a grown man.”

  “He is crying like an infant who has been told not to play with swords,” Fia shakes his head.

  “Like a weak fool,” Chaz mutters angrily. “You take that bridge thing down!”

  “No!” Riochald says getting to her feet. She wipes her hand across her mouth and she allows herself a slight smile and pleased look. “He is feeling his own. We have cured him of his curse.”

  They all turn to the blubbering man before them. They smile at the wonder of what Riochald, Tarfleam and Derry’n have done. All except Chaz, who steps past them and stares at him with disgust.

  “You have just weakened us all!” she barks with disdain. “Look at him! How is he meant to lead us now? He cannot even stop himself from crying. Our biggest weapon has been reduced to a sobbing wreck.” She rounds on Riochald. “Next time you want to help someone with your dirty magic, think first of the end result! This is not a game, Dymphia. It is war! And thanks to you we are one step closer to losing.”

  34

  The SHRINE of BONDING

  The following morning, once the camp has been packed away and Tak’arshi has been coaxed onto his horse the party sets out.

  They had taken it in turns throughout the night to explain the various feelings and emotions to the Dark Clan. The man is still as intelligent as he was before, but now he has fear and uncertainty to guide his thoughts. The crying stopped after a while and they had managed to get him talking about how he felt.

  “Everything,” was his reply, and at that he smiled an awkward and untrained expression before bursting into tears again.

  While all this was going on Chaz had sat alone by the fire, poking at it with a stick and nursing the bruise that had sprung up from her slap to the ground. The mountain girl’s words had shocked the party more than anything else that night. If she was right then they would have to get Tak’arshi back to his logical self before they could rely on him.

  Darwin’t pats the back of his horses head as they begin the slight climb uphill towards the shrine. He needs to understand his own feelings. Canace has not spoken to him for the best part of the morning, and when she did it was just to ask him to remove his foot from a guide rope. He had wanted to ask her if she was excited about the bonding that would take place between them in less than half a day. Her coldness had prevented him, and now he wonders what she is thinking. His mind should be focused upon the task ahead. They are stopping at the shrine only for a few hours. Then will push on towards the Angel City of Gossa-Mesa. The great Tree City of children’s stories will be before him by the end of this day and he should be petrified. He has never seen an Angel. Not many people have, as they stay in their Tree. He has always thought it would be an adventure to travel to the city and be flown to the highest branches in the arms of a beautiful female.

  He casts his mind back to the days when they were children and the last time they were all together. They were happier adventures. Adventures where his and the lives of his friends were not in danger. Derry’n had not been there but Damilayas had: the three D’s! Prophecy, it would seem, is a tricky thing. If he had been asked who the three would have been he would have said, Damilayas, Danlynn and himself. They were so close as children and their parents and his aunt had commented that the three young men would change the world with their grand ideas and thoughts of adventures.

  It was not meant to be. Damilayas had died, killed by the beast that inhabits the lagoon north of Hillsbough. They had been camping out in the fields as part of the night watch over the flocks of sheep. Wolves had been killing too many, and teams were set up to watch over them. On their last day Danlynn had suggested they enter the forbidden woods and see the lagoon. They had all become excited and nobody raised an objection or commented on how dangerous it could be.

  After an hour’s walk the three boys had reached the fringes of the forest. It was then that Damilayas had changed his mind. The woods were twisted and dark with too much noise echoing through. Danlynn had started to mock his friend in his playful way, yet he knew it would not change anything. Damilayas was the most stubborn person either of them had ever met. When he said he did not want to do something then he would not do it.


  They entered the woods without him and were soon lost within the mass of warped trunks. Danlynn had lost his nerve and wanted to leave so they turned in the direction they thought was the way they had come.

  Then it was there before them like a vast muddy puddle, Moyas Lagoon. They were far from the water’s edge and felt perfectly safe. Danlynn, finding some courage, hefted a stone and threw it into the water. It caused a mighty splash and the ripples spread out in ever increasing waves. He had picked up another with the thought of creating a bigger splash when he noticed that the ripples were not decreasing. In fact they seemed to be getting wider and larger.

  It was then that Damilayas had bounded out of the trees slightly around the curve of the lagoon. He looked panicked and frightened. Seeing them, he lost his caution and began running in their direction.

  The tentacle had whipped from the water so fast that all three of them just stood watching. It hit Damilayas across the chest and he was flung backwards. Another slithering arm snatched out and wrapped around the boy’s leg. Within seconds his body was dragged below the water, his outstretched hand reaching out for help which would never come.

  Darwin’t swipes at his eyes and focuses his vision on the grass ahead. His thoughts always return to that day. He has felt the guilt of his friend’s death every day since. The beast had not devoured the boy; it had simply drowned him and then let the body float to the surface. He is not sure what happened next. Both he and Danlynn held their friend in their arms, they were wet and crying.

  “You look sad,” Danlynn mutters. He reaches out a hand and touches his friend’s shoulder. “You should be happy today. You are being bound to the girl of your dreams. She will make a good wife.” His friend grins and looks off into the distance.