The Shadow of Our Stars: The Tales of Evinar

by Alexander Richter

  “I will have much more than your word if you disappoint me,” Lilith said, slipping the dagger into the pocket of her gown.

  Remus gulped.

  “The sky foretells a victory. He is east somewhere in the Forest of Mornia. Journey there, torture anyone you must, and burn it to the ground once you finish. I don’t want anyone figuring out what we have found. He’s all mine. Leave his pathetic father on your way out. I wish to have words with him,” her eyelids fractured down her cheekbones again, resembling an aged oil painting. “Leave!”

  Remus disappeared from her chamber swiftly.

  Lilith lurched down in her window-side throne and wiped her eyes. A tear slid down the dark circles and landed on her gown. The black raven flew from her chamber window back to wince it came, keeping a watchful eye on Remus.

  “Why is this so challenging?” she asked the sky, forgetting that Edmund lay bound on the floor. “Haven’t I suffered enough?”

  The raven cawed in the dark cloudy sky and disappeared in the night.

  Edmund coughed. “Not nearly enough,” he said, his pale skin joined with the stone floor.

  Lilith approached him. “Been a while, hasn’t it? Since the first lunar cycle. Tell me, how has living like a hermit in that dreaded village been? And Angela, is she doing well?” The edges of her lips twisted.

  “I could have gone a little bit longer. You looked awful. Age has done you no good favors,” Edmund said in response.

  Lilith tore at Edmund’s silver hair, grabbing a handful of it, “Why shouldn’t I end you right here?”

  “You would be doing me a service,” he confessed, “then I wouldn’t have to lie here and watch you trudge around this room searching for ways to get others to do your bidding.”

  She released his hair. “Clever. Nonetheless, you’ve hidden your boy for far too long. He’ll die within time. And your world will bend the knee. I see you’ve acquired the same illness as your wretched wife, have you told your son about it?”

  Edmund’s face lay unchanged.

  “I’ll presume your silence means no. He’ll know all that you’ve hidden to him in time. I’ve been dying to reveal those secrets. Perhaps he’ll even bend the knee to me in sympathy and sit at my right hand. That would make him a whole lot wiser than you.”

  “The old laws remain. Even you cannot break what is written on stone.”

  “You’ll see. For a long time, that was true, but I have discovered ways that undo those laws. And you will see with your eyes as I unravel the fabric between those which were deemed unbreakable. Your people will welcome me back like a savior. I will be their protector once more. What is it that your people say? Oh yes— God save the Queen.”

  “These lies fill your head. You’ll go thirsty for power you cannot begin to understand—“

  Lilith screeched in disgust, “You know nothing!”

  “I know my son, and he’d never fall for this trap.”

  “See, that is what you think. I expect he’s on his way now, laboring to find you. My scouts tell me of it. He’s already found a companion who will show him the way. It won’t be long before he comes begging at my feet to spare your life. I may just give him the charity he desires.”

  Edmund’s eyes sank.

  The clattering of anvils and blacksmiths rang from the armories below. Unduk Validur was assembling for war.

  The lands west of the Spine Mountains were dying with each day Lilith ruled. But now her influence would through the Archway, leading both worlds into a land of eternal darkness. This wouldn’t just be a war for this world, but a war against both.

  The unseen enemy would ravage the land. England would be in ruins. Revenge would finally be hers, and Death her ally.

  “You’ll see firsthand what I am capable of,” Lilith said in a cold voice, “and then, you will fear for your soul. The Night of the Moon is near, and with it, all days will bleed. Your boy will have a choice— bow or die.”

  19

  “Thank you,” Elise said to an elderly woman. She tugged her arms through the sleeves of a heavily weighted chestnut robe and shoved a handful of salted pork into her satchel along with her refiled flask. Trading was a due part of life on her own. And giving the road back to Fayhollow, she'd need to.

  The village of Tusia stood between two mediums, a border dividing frost from heat.

  On one side, a bead of sweat drip down Elise’s brow, but on the other side, the frozen wind’s brushed against her exposed legs, raising bumps on the back of her neck. She wandered through the village for a horse once she gained the provisions.

  Desert’s end was scarcely the place one would expect to acquire a horse, but nonetheless, she found one galloping in a wooded paddock. The owner was hesitant to sell, but when offered two golden pieces, he could not resist. Gold always lifted the common sense of men, and two gold pieces was a high price to pay for an Aryian Albino, but Elise needed a horse where she was headed.

  The pale moonlight complimented the horse’s frosted skin. It’s mane dazzled like strands of spun silver thread. Aryian Albino’s were lightning fast, fairly easy to ride, and required less water than the average stallion. Albino’s were born and bred for treks spanning multiple nights through deserts and mountains. They were extremely rare in Evinar.

  Elise mounted the horse with the sword proudly tied around her back. She clasped a handful of silver mane and galloped bareback towards Fayhollow with the winter’s wind nipping at her heels. Her thin linen cloak fluttered in the frosted air like a poltergeist taking flight.

  The Aryian Desert was northeast from where her buyer would be expecting her but with the horse, her reputation would prompt an early arrival. That meant the quicker she could ride east— the faster she'd reach her freedom. Elise was so close she could taste the salt of the eastern coast on her lips.

  Sandy textures bled rather seamlessly into pure white powder and stiff plantlife. Saying goodbye to the heat, the air around Elise started to bite at her golden skin, and suddenly, being barefoot did not seem like the best idea. She paused from her journey pulling back on the horse’s hair to lace on some riding leather boots that she’d been giving as a gift from the horse seller. He insisted that a horse of this caliber be ridden with proper attire. It had cost her an extra gold. But it made no difference. Elise knew her way well enough around any horse, broken in or not. The hard sole of a boot wasn’t going to make the horse obey her any better than it wanted to, but it would keep her toes from freezing off. A notion that was important to Elise. She liked her toes.

  Clouds hung low over the mountain peaks.

  A layer of fine mist brushed over the pathway. This was an ancient trading route, one that had seen a lot of traffic in history. It was a smaller part of a larger road known as the Pathway to Heaven. It was so named because it led from the blue ocean waters to the highest point in Evinar, beyond the cloud’s reach, to the summit of the Embir Castle. But the road was scarcely traveled these days but by a selected few.

  They rode strong and fast. Elise’s determination complimented her heavy eyes. Two full days passed since she’d last slept, and now the sword clung around her shoulders. Sleeping did not seem like an option.

  At the horse's rate, the landscape pulled into an enormous white blur. She was in another world, a ghostly world.

  As they crested a slope, she spotted a bashful fox diving through the snow after a rabbit. But other than the midnight sky, there was nothing to be seen. They were alone in the tranquility of the Arran Mountains. Just the way she preferred.

  Moonlight, as she so named, because everything important has a name, or so Elise thought, would not tire. They trekked through snow valleys and trotted over mountain ridges, summited peaks, and traversed alongside the uncertainty of an icy ledge. Moonlight demonstrated fearlessness. Where Elise led, Moonlight obeyed as if their minds were joined and their thoughts shared. A bond only found under unique circumstances.

  The muscle behind Moonlight’s breast throbbed against the i
nside of Elise’s legs.

  A trail of thrown powder prevented others from following their tracks. Elise could not dismiss the possibility of starved predators searching for something to fill their bellies.

  The white wolves were fierce in these mountains. Their packs summoned numbers as great as a hundred. Shielded with fur as white as their surroundings, this made for a swift and unexpected death. But with less traveling about, famine killed the weakest of the packs, and the survivors feasted. Wolf pups were born anew in the late winter months, and the pack cycle started all over again. Alphas ruled according to birthright.

  The howls of a white wolf littered the Arran Mountains, even from the Castle of Embir. Songs of the winter they coined, but those who had seen their ivory teeth knew in their wetted garments what they were— death’s howl. Elise heard the stories from the other children in the castle growing up. She never believed them herself, that was until her father showed the mangled scars that ran down his right arm. “A reminder of who rules below,” he always told her. And here she was. In the wolf’s den and not an ounce of fear running through her veins. There was no telling whether it was a good thing or not.

  The night wishfully flew. Sunrise danced over the white like brides of a wedding ceremony. When Elise saw the watchtowers alongside the road, she knew the castle of her namesake drew nearer. She was halfway from where she needed to be.

  Moonlight broke from a trot into a slow walk as Elise pulled back on her mane. Saddle soreness was breaking in. The insides of her legs felt foreign to her, and they tingled with needles. Numbness, in an already numb climate. Winter has it’s bite, Elise thought, mercy will not be on my side.

  “That’s it,” Elise said, brushing Moonlight’s ear and running her stiff fingers down her neck.

  Exhaust bellowed out in plumes from her dark nostrils.

  The old watchtowers stood out from the landscape with tar-covered wooden pillars that looked like stilts encasing a spiraled stone cottage.

  In their origin, the towers were constructed for travelers to lodge and hide from what wickedness bred during the night. Cheap enough for the peasants to lodge. The majority stood lonely in the cold, placed a day's travel apart, and stretched from the Castle’s outer walls to the Arran Channels. It had been many years since these towers had served their true purpose. The elements had eaten away and punished their existence.

  Moonlight snorted with unease, waving her long neck back and forth. The winds of winter gently motioned her mane into a dance. It was the first indication Elise saw of any emotion from her horse. She hoped it was misplaced. She attempted to advance, but her mount swayed in resistance.

  Elise dismounted. She shook each leg to allow the blood to flow back to her toes. It had been a while since she’d been on horseback, and her riding muscles were crying in agony.

  The sword’s weight fatigued the muscles in her shoulder, and a thought entered her head. What if she needed to use it?

  Elise unsheathed the broadsword and held it delicately in both hands.

  The tower’s wooden door was broken clean from its hinges. The iron was no match against the weather.

  Elise steadily ascended its spiraling staircase. Each footstep was placed with light care but complimented with saddle soreness. The spire whistled and hummed like a vortex in the winds.

  As she neared the tower’s guard quarters, she heard Moonlight faintly nicker below. She peered out a small porthole in the stone. Moonlight was there still. That was all that matter.

  The guard quartes still had a functioning door and hung from large cast-iron hinges. She noticed the latch was unfastened. She took one deep breath and stormed inside. There was no one inside.

  Where the rafters lay shattered, piles of snow built up. Off in the corners were a bit of discarded armor pieces, a broken crossbow, and a grey weighty fur. Elise picked up the discarded fur. It looked around her size. This would have been the same furs the guards wore to keep from freezing. Elise wrapped the fur around her. The desert heat had radiated within her skin for some time, but its effects were gone. She was in the mountains. It may be appropriate to dress accordingly.

  Elise was relieved not to meet anything in the chamber. She descended the spiral staircase back to Moonlight with a new fur in hand, and the tower cleared of any threats.

  “Thank goodness,” Elise breathed and reached for her mount, but the criminal sound of a shrill howl sent a cutting blade down her spine and into the pit of her stomach.

  Wolves.

  Moonlight swayed back and forth, rearing in fear. Her globe-like eyes widened, and the reflection of many little amber eyes pricked up like beacons in the white. Moonlight bolted without a moment of hesitation. And with moments to spare, Elise gripped the horse’s mane as she fumbled to stay on her back.

  Another howl echoed, and soon there was a harmony echoing from mountain peak to mountain peak. The entire pack was summoned.

  Moonlight kept on the road and swept through at speed as if she had wings. Elise’s head spun around. They were being followed, closely. The white wolves looked scarcely like the description given in the stories. Ghostly in appearance, their aggressive howls emanated from a cage of bones with only a thin layer of fur wrapped over it. They were mangy with mouths the color of a ripe apple. Warmblood drove these beasts into a vicious frenzy.

  “We can’t outrun them,” Elise said to herself.

  Moonlight snorted in disagreement.

  “Where do we go?” But she knew the answer to her question. The castle’s gates would be drawing near. Could we survive that long? Yes. She had a sword. It was time to use it.

  Zane’s broadsword wiggled in her shaking left hand. The weight was more than one arm could support, but it was the only way to stay on Moonlight’s back. A handful of silver in one hand. And the blade in the other. Otherwise, she’d fall.

  The first wolf attacked only to get a sword pierced through its ghastly chest. Crimson flowed on the white flank of the horse. A sharp cry rallied its brothers in retaliation. Another set of amber eyes chomped their jaws savagely at Moonlight’s swaying tail. Elise swung the sword in a downward motion, wedging the blade deep in the wolf's skull. More howls echoed overhead.

  The blade was coated in blood.

  “We can do this,” Elise said, holding on to dear life.

  A white warrior struck at Moonlight’s throat latch. Moonlight cried in anguish, but the warrior was shaken off. The attack left behind a laceration. Elise looked at it with worry. Luckily, it was not bleeding. And the horse’s spirits were barely dampened— instead, they were invigorated.

  Another wolf vaulted where Elise’s right boot gripped Moonlight’s hindquarters. The wolf swallowed Zane’s blade down its miserable throat.

  Elise’s white linens were stained in the heartless material. The heavy fur shielded the wind’s needles and offered a layer of protection from striking claws.

  The wolf’s attacks never seemed to end. With the death of one, another sprouted in their place. The spectacle was slower in Elise’s head. She had time to react, time to raise or lower her sword, and time to survive.

  The road rounded a corner. A gargantuan stone wall came into focus.

  But the wolves' attacks did not lessen.

  One, no older than six moons, sprang at Elise and sunk its juvenile teeth into her shoulders.

  “Ouch!” she screamed, the sword nearly falling from her other hand.

  The juvenile squeezed and wiggled from her like a fish out of water. The power of the wolf’s jaws clamped down harder and harder.

  “You daft beasts!” Elise screamed as she retrieved a dagger stuffed in her waistband and jammed the knife into the monster's eye. It yelped as it drew its last breath, blood squirting all over her face.

  Despite the fact she wore a fur coat, the teeth mangled through to break the skin, rendering the strength in her right hand useless. She’d either have to keep ahold of Moonlight or defend herself with the sword. But before she could decide, anothe
r wolf howled in front of the moon risen horse. White wolves flew in streams to join the rallying call, standing between Elise’s chances of getting to the castle walls.

  There were two, then three more, and then six more. Before her eyes could blink, she could hardly count how many more came to the wolf’s aid. This was it. A sea of wolves between her and where she needed to be. Elise would be torn apart being closer than ever to the thing she wanted most. Her freedom.

  But Moonlight wouldn’t let that happen. Where Elise turn wary with worry, Moonlight was ignited. The Albino lowers its head like a battering ram, Elise rested the blade in hand over her thigh and held on to Moonlight with what strength remained.

  Her wound throbbed with the beat of her heart, growing stronger with each pulse.

  “Come on!” Elise cried, bracing herself. Her brunette hand fanned out like the roots of a tree.

  A massive wolf stood at the forefront with a body that doubled that rivaled the other wolves. The alpha, Elise thought. His jaw gaped open, and a rolling red tongue sat behind his yellowing razor fangs. The upper portion of his snout was drawn back, and an evil snarl rumbled from beneath his waxen fur. The Alpha’s authority was unchallenged. If it is his will, he could tear the throats of those who opposed him with sheer efficiency. He would shred through thirty wolves before he tired.

  Winter was ruthless.

  Prey rarely came within the grasp of their territory. And Elise wandered in freely. The cruel men of the watchtowers could no longer harm them for contest. They’d taken back what was theirs. The Arran Mountains were branded their hunting grounds.

  The wolf’s breath floated like a warning in the passing winds.

  Moonlight increased her speed. She was an unstoppable force, determined for survival.

  Amidst the charge, a thought intruded Elise's mind. Would death be another plain to find her freedom, or would it take her to another inescapable burden? The idea was mulled over for a moment and then dismissed. There was no time to think of death. She did not have a plan for it— only life.