The Fall Of Celene (The Prophecies of Zanufey Book 2)

by A. Evermore

  She sat cross-legged on soft ground in darkness. The air was cool and she looked about her, clear headed and pain free. She realised it was not totally dark for above her there was a night sky filled with twinkling stars. A soft sandy desert stretched out in all directions and the huge trilithon was before her. A figure robed in stars stood in front of it.

  Is it really Zanufey? She wondered, as she did every time. It seemed too much to be real, that the Night Goddess was stood before her now, communing with her as if they were both ordinary people. The figure stepped lightly towards her, alabaster white chin and pale pink lips all that was visible beneath her cloak. She smiled warmly down at Issa. Issa found herself smiling up, filled with love and awe.

  ‘If it were not for me they would not have died,’ Issa said to the robed figure.

  The figure spoke without moving her lips, her voice echoing in Issa’s mind. ‘They chose their lives and their deaths before they came into the mortal worlds. Your presence and connection to me ensured their souls did not get ensnared by the immortal web surrounding Maioria.’

  Issa considered this for a long while. The implications were too deep for her to understand easily. I helped them get free? They chose how they would die? Then this has all been decided before? She looked up questioningly at the hooded woman, sensing that she could read her very thoughts. Those pale lips only smiled warmly back at her.

  ‘Many souls will choose to leave their bodies in the coming years and no one can choose for them. Your gifts help set them free so they do not become trapped.’

  ‘How do I assist them?’ Issa asked.

  ‘By being.’

  Issa frowned, only a small part of her able to grasp the concept. ‘I am here to help them get free? Even if Baelthrom destroys us all and takes all Maioria?’ she spoke to herself more than she did to the robed figure.

  ‘The future has not been decided,’ was all Zanufey said, and retained that same calm, wise, enigmatic smile.

  ‘Are you worried?’ Issa asked suddenly.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you care?’ Issa felt bad for asking the question.

  ‘Endlessly. Worry cannot exist when there is only love.’

  Issa found the reply even more confusing, felt her mind and consciousness to be very small. She felt tired then and found herself drifting in the swirling energies of the Flow once more.

  They tried to carry Issa inside Triest’anth’s house to her bed but she suddenly awoke and protested so loudly that Grast’anth was forced to return her to where the karalanths stood beside the now huge and roaring funeral pyre.

  Asaph helped her sit on his lap and held her close as Grast’anth led the funeral rites. He had expected Triest’anth to do it or Cusap’anth, being the leader, but the grief on Cusap’anth’s face told him everything. He blinked back his own tears.

  ‘Blessed Woetala, today many of our people have left their mortal bodies behind and are with Zanufey on their way to you. They are all heroes and must be honoured as such,’ Grast’anth spoke strong and firm, though the tears filled his eyes.

  But the tears would not come to Issa and instead she said a silent prayer to Zanufey as Grast’anth continued.

  Beloved Zanufey, I will not cry for those who released their mortal bodies today for you have told me they are free. If I cry for them it defeats their purpose... and mine. If I cry I think I will never stop.

  Brave courageous warriors loved by Woetala, you died a hero’s death fighting for freedom. Zanufey will lead you home, into the eternal light from which we all came.

  Grast’anth finished speaking but no one spoke and no one sobbed. Instead many silent tears were shed as flaming torches were thrown upon the bodies and the pyre became a roaring blaze.

  ‘Now come, let us celebrate the deaths of these mighty warriors!’ Cusap’anth boomed.

  Despite the sorrow in his face he raised his arms wide as if to lift everyone from their gloom. Slowly, one by one, they began to cheer for those who had fought and died so bravely, louder and louder until the whole forest echoed with their voices

  Issa allowed the exuberant feeling of victory wash over her for the first time. Today she had proven to herself her own worth as a warrior and something more. Understanding the power of her magic had saved her as much as quick thinking and use of her sword. She felt the warrior within now truly awakening. She looked up at Asaph cradling her with his good arm. He looked down at her.

  ‘You feel it?’ was all she asked. She wasn’t sure if she meant their victory or the powers within them both awakening. Perhaps she meant both. He smiled a smile then that she would never forget, one mixed with grief and loss and yet there was joy there, and an unbreakable resolve.

  ‘I feel it.’

  She reflected his own smile back.

  Chapter 46

  Baelthrom's Determination

  HAMEKA sat bolt upright in his bed, his face covered in sweat and the sheets soaked and twisted around him. Sodding ravens! They had been attacking him, hundreds of them all scratching at his face, pecking at his eyes. Then he saw her stood before him, dressed in Dread Dragon armour, crowned in black feathers, blue-green eyes staring straight at him from that flawless white face.

  Even now he couldn’t get rid of her cold, knowing and infinitely aggravating face from his mind. She looked right into his soul and he saw his death in her eyes. He gulped in huge breaths of air and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of an equally damp hand. His throat felt as if it had been strangled and his eyes watered from the memory of those awful black pecking beaks.

  The girl that had entertained him last night lay slumped unconscious on the floor, a few spots of blood on her torn shirt and nothing more to indicate his experimental tortures. Techniques he had been exploring intended for the woman whose face he could not now banish from his mind. Strangely, seeing the unconscious woman made him feel better. Odd that a human could make him feel better, knowing how much he despised them.

  He stood up unsteadily, poured a glass of water and noisily sucked the lukewarm liquid down his parched throat. He sat down and pressed the somewhat cooler glass against his forehead. I have to get off this bloody ship! He hated being stuck at sea but at least it gave him time to think and plan. He liked to think and plan, it was what he was good at. Well, it was either this or fly upon one of those horrendous dragons and he preferred feeling something solid beneath his feet by far, even if it was floating on an endless ocean.

  The girl on the floor moaned quietly. Her dark brown hair was plastered in sweat to her red-blotched face. Hameka liked this one, she’d shown spirit and he had decided to let her recover a little before resuming. He trickled some water into her bruised mouth and she spluttered, one brown eye flickered open, the other was swollen shut.

  ‘Clean yourself up,’ he said, tossing her a rag.

  He watched her struggle to sit in amusement and pulled on his own clothes while she covered herself with the tatters of her shirt. He opened the small curtain and peered out of the porthole. Rain or seawater covered the glass marring his view but the grey light told him it was past dawn.

  ‘Damn,’ it was later than he had thought and there was no more time to perfect his torture techniques. ‘Guards!’ he yelled.

  Two Maphraxies guarding his door struggled into the small room, barely able to stand upright under the low doorway, armour clanking and scraping against each other and the door. The girl shivered and moved groggily away from them as best she could.

  ‘Take her down with the rest,’ he said dismissively.

  They grasped her arms and dragged her through the door, but not before she spat at him.

  ‘Zanufey damn you!’ she snarled, the hatred in her eye was like a dagger.

  Impressive, she still has energy to hate and not fear me. He smiled sweetly back at her but could not suppress the shiver that ran down his spine as the door shut. He would double the pain on her next time, he thought as he combed his grey hair, she would fear him in th
e end. Before he killed her.

  The cursed dark-haired woman was not on Celene. That traitorous High Priestess, Cirosa, knew nothing of her whereabouts and Baelthrom had ordered the Dromoorai to sweep the coasts for her. His other Maphraxie beasts had been sent into the forests of Frayon, likely never to be seen again. What a loss. That girl was his master’s obsession, she needed to be found and eliminated quickly. The more Baelthrom focused on the wench the more it drew his attention away from this war and Hameka’s own victories.

  As if in response to his thoughts the Shadow Key at his chest grew warm, its all absorbing dark-red light began to glow a low blood-red. It was not Baelthrom this time, the amulet always glowed brighter when it was. This low glow was waiting for his acceptance of the communication request. He looked expectantly into it.

  ‘Yes? Where are you?’

  ‘Western Frayon,’ the Dromoorai’s low and toneless voice replied.

  Through the Dromoorai’s Shadow Stone Hameka saw her, the dark-haired bitch, trapped beneath the body of a Life Seeker. Long black hair, alabaster face, sea-green eyes… He could barely contain his excitement. He grasped the amulet.

  ‘Take her, take her now!’ he shouted his command.

  The Dread Dragon angled downwards and reached a giant claw towards her. Hameka’s eyes bore into hers yet through the amulet he could not penetrate her mind and take control of her. She somehow managed to block him with the Flow. He began a frustrated search for a way in, looking for any areas of weakness in her mind shield. There was none. He pushed harder, sweat beading on his brow, scratching and smashing, but her mind barred him like a wall of impenetrable metal.

  Suddenly the world lurched and his probing mind was ripped painfully from hers. He clutched the amulet so hard his knuckles cracked and the gold frame of the amulet pierced his palm. He closed his eyes against the rising nausea. The world slowly ceased its tumbling and he opened them again. He caught glimpses of another dragon as the aerial battle unfolded. He stared dumbly at the golden dragon wrapped in a crushing embrace around the Dread Dragon.

  ‘Kill it and get the girl!’ Hameka screamed, his voice shaking with fury and desperation.

  But he watched in disbelief as the girl was largely forgotten and all the Dromoorai could do was try to stay mounted upon his spinning writhing mount. Hameka clasped his hands to his head and stared silently through the amulet. There should be no more dragons! They are dead or asleep, permanently. Baelthrom saw to that!

  But now he watched as a massive golden dragon easily fought Baelthrom’s most prized possession, the Dromoorai. They crashed to the floor and the world stopped spinning. Then the dragons lunged towards each other. In the struggling blur the Dromoorai was flung from its mount and Hameka lost sight of the battle for a moment as it struggled to its feet.

  ‘Get up and kill it! Get the girl!’ Hameka screamed again. But as the Dromoorai came closer to the battling dragons, the golden one wrenched and dropped the Dread Dragon’s shredded lifeless throat.

  ‘No!’ Hameka yelled hoarsely.

  The Dromoorai swung his deadly claymore but the huge golden dragon was no match for it and easily dodged. The air shimmered and the dragon began to change. He watched the golden dragon transform into man like some awful play created to mock him. In moments in the place of the golden serpent now stood a man. The blood drained from Hameka’s face. There are no more Dragon Lords! This has to be a trick, magic, enchantments.

  Regardless of what Hameka thought there the tall reddish-blond man stood and looked every bit as Draxian as the people he had fought and destroyed so many years ago. As tall and proud as the people still imprisoned deep in his dungeons in Draxa.

  ‘Kill him now, quickly while he is a man,’ Hameka growled, fearful excitement kept him clutching the amulet to his face. Dromoorai were powerful, even without their dragons, and they could wield magic. But this was no ordinary man, this was a Dragon Lord, and deep down Hameka feared the Dromoorai would be no match for him.

  ‘This one cannot be a trained Dragon Lord and he is young,’ he said through the amulet, ‘he will not be that powerful.’

  His assumption turned out to be correct. The blond man was not as fast as the Dragon Lords he had fought against nearly three decades ago. He moved a little too slowly and nervously, and twice he hesitated as if he had never faced a foe like the Dromoorai. Hameka’s luck changed and now the Dragon Lord was pinned beneath the boot of the Dromoorai.

  ‘Take him to the brink of death and keep him there. We need to replace our missing Dread Dragon,’ Hameka commanded with a smile, the Dromoorai moved to obey.

  Thinking the battle was done he was about to look away from the amulet and take a sip of water but there came a blinding light just before he did. It burned through his eyes and he cried out and dropped the amulet. The pain went quickly but his vision did not return for several minutes.

  Cursing he searched the floor for the dropped amulet. He found it and blinked into the blood stone. The image and the connection was gone. He tried to reconnect but there was nothing to connect to. He rubbed the amulet and shook it, willing the images to reappear but there was nothing.

  Hameka sat back, blinking in disbelief, trying to work out what had happened. He shook the stone and rubbed it, but the stone remained empty and dull. He howled in rage and hurled it across the room where it bounced off the wall unharmed. He smashed his fists down upon the desk, the wood creaking under the assault. Breathing deeply for several moments he forced composure on himself, refusing to let his emotions take control of him. Somewhat calmer he smoothed back his hair and went to retrieve the Shadow Stone.

  So, the Dromoorai had been in Western Frayon. No doubt the girl and that cursed dragon would already be on the move. The blasted Feylint Halanoi were still concentrated in the north but in a few months the Maphraxies could attack the relatively undefended west coast before the Halanoi had a chance to even organise themselves. If Lord Baelthrom was not obsessed with this stupid girl they could be planning their attacks this very moment!

  ‘We will hunt them down,’ he said aloud, no Dragon Lord could remain hidden for long. Lord Baelthrom would be pleased to hear of another one to add to his Dromoorai. Best gloss over the one we just lost… With calm and some hope restored, Hameka looked into the Shadow Stone seeking counsel with his Lord.

  ‘Tell me, Hameka, something I want to hear,’ Baelthrom’s voice echoed around the room before the image of his Lord fully materialised, he did not sound happy. Hameka suppressed a weary sigh.

  ‘The girl, my Lord, she is somewhere in the forests of Western Frayon. A Life Seeker and Dromoorai finally found her but then... something happened.’

  Baelthrom’s eyes glowered blood red like the amulet itself but he said nothing. Hameka continued.

  ‘It appears there is another Dragon Lord loose in the world... From where he came I do not know but together they destroyed the Life Seeker and the Dromoorai my Lord.’ The silence that followed was crushing. Hameka’s heart pounded until he was sure it had moved from his chest into his brain.

  ‘Hameka, get the girl and bring her to me. Get the Dragon Lord. You have your orders. I do not see what is taking so long. Get her before she becomes a bigger threat than she already is! Our spies speak of a Raven Queen of prophecy and there are those rallying to her cause. You know how much trouble the rising dark moon has caused, how much harder the humans have been fighting since. If she is not captured soon I foresee a greater uprising against us than we have ever had before!’ Baelthrom’s voice boomed so loudly that the cabin shook.

  Hameka was taken aback by his Lord’s determination. Yes, the Feylint Halanoi had been fighting harder since the strange dark moon had risen. Yes it seemed their ranks were more numerous. Yes they had lost some ground, but not as much as they had gained. Did his Lord really think this girl was such a threat she could threaten their control of Maioria? Hameka almost laughed aloud, almost. He knew his Lord was deadly serious about this and it was not worth disp
leasing him further so he managed to keep his mouth shut.

  ‘Never forget, Hameka, that I can see far more than you can with your human eyes.’

  The comment stung Hameka but he kept his face blank.

  ‘I do not think you can quite fathom the threat of the magic that is moving through Maioria of late. It is powerful and dangerous, far beyond anything Keteth ever was. I do not even think our enemies know how powerful this magic is and it is possibly linked to the dark moon, and it is possibly linked to that girl. I want to crush our enemies before they begin to have hope again. This must be done swiftly, it must be done now!’

  ‘Yes my Lord,’ Hameka said tightly, but Baelthrom was already gone and the amulet cold and dull. It was the first time his Lord had ever spoken to him in such a displeased manner and it unnerved him completely. Hameka bit his lip until blood flowed, enjoying the pain that took his mind off the fury.

  Baelthrom moved away from the Shadow Master and breathed the cold damp air of the dark chamber deeply. She was getting stronger with each passing day and each day he could feel the shift in the energy of the world towards her. It was a power he did not have access to and yet he could feel the strength of it; it was magic drawn from the dark moon and from within the earth itself. It was as if Maioria was a living thing, willingly giving her energy to the power of this woman.

  His power came from beyond Maioria, beyond the universe of change, beyond life. The more beings he turned from life to his own immortality the greater his power grew. The balance in the universe had slowly been shifting, shifting in his favour. But now, after millennia, the tide was changing.

  If only he had her he could control her. If he could control her then would he find a way to access the power that was hers, use it for his own and ensure it could never be used against him. Hameka must be growing weak, she should not have escaped so easily.