by Brian Murray
Aurillia rose from her chair and knelt down beside her lover. “How do you fare, Zane?”
“Water please,” croaked the young king hoarsely. A goblet of water was handed to him and he quickly downed the contents, wanting more. After his second goblet, Zane turned to face Aurillia, and smiled his distinct crooked smile. He reached out and touched her face. “I’m better now, thank you.”
“That’s good to hear,” boomed Rayth, expressing the others’ relief.
“Yes, that’s good to hear, Zane,” said Aurillia, her eyes misting.
Zane reached out and ran his fingers through Aurillia’s long dark hair. “I’m better, and I’m famished!” he announced.
A bowl of hot broth and seeded bread was placed in front of Zane, and Aurillia helped him eat. After finishing his meal, Aurillia and Cara helped the king back to Thade’s room, where he slept again until the next morning.
***
Zane woke and found Aurillia asleep in a chair next to his bed. Feeling stronger, he rose with a grunt that immediately woke Aurillia.
“What you trying to do, beloved?” she asked, frowning.
“Help me get up, please.”
Aurillia helped Zane dress in fresh clothes, borrowed from Thade, and the two of them walked into the kitchen to find Rayth, Dax, Tanas, Thade, Gan-Goran, and Cara starting breakfast.
“Morning Zane, would you care to break your fast with us?” beamed Dax, smiling.
“I would love to, thanks,” said Zane, his voice stronger than it had been for days.
Cara made Zane and Aurillia some bacon, eggs, and fresh toast, and the queen and princess soon joined them. The friends enjoyed their breakfast together, chatting about Teldor and the plans ahead.
Gan-Goran shattered the light conversation.
“There’s something I need to explain to you, Zane,” announced the master-magiker, his voice grim.
“What’s that, Gan?”
“This will take some time, so I think some fresh tisane would be in order.” Cara made some fresh tisane and poured everyone a fresh mug.
Gan-Goran settled himself, then began.
“Zane, you faced the Dark One and was struck by his sword. His sword is called the Blade of Yallas, once commonly known as the Sword of Doom. No one is safe from the effects of the blade that would not only rend the flesh of the person it struck, but also rip away their very soul. All that remained would be a shell: a zombie willing to undertake the Dark One’s bidding, and they could only be stopped by decapitation. Sadly, their souls would be destined to wander the Grey Path for all eternity.”
Gan-Goran paused and sipped some of his tisane, savouring the sweetness.
“There are a few mortals who can survive a cut from the Blade of Yallas. They are called Children of the Light. These men and women are protectors of the white magic that binds everything together. They are guided by the Divine One to do good, and are protectors of Her magic. But these men and women are the main targets for the Dark One, as they have innate magic within them. By killing the Children of the Light, he can reduce the Divine One’s power, and gain control of our realm. There is a link between the Divine One, the Children of the Light, and the Dark One, but I will admit I do not fully understand it.
“Anyway, as I said, these men and women can survive a cut from the Blade of Yallas, as their souls are protected by the innate white magic they possess. But the blade’s injury runs deep, and their soul will slowly be leached away and insanity will ravage them, eventually forcing them to become powerful followers of the Dark One. At the heart of his foul realm, a place called Yallaz’oom, is the Dark One’s Black Palace. Deep within its bowels are the dungeons where souls of the struck Children of the Light are held, bound in chains enchanted with the blackest of magic.”
“The foul pus?” asked Dax.
Gan-Goran nodded. “That is the physical start of the corruption.”
“But there is a way to survive?” asked Aurillia, her voice full of worry, her hand reaching out and gripping Zane’s knee.
“Yes, there is, but it is difficult and I do not believe anyone has completed the journey.”
“Journey?” asked Rayth, frowning.
“Yes, a journey.” Gan-Goran took a deep breath. “The only way to save themselves is for them to travel to Yallaz’oom, enter the Black Palace, find the dungeons and reclaim their soul. That is the only way they can survive.”
“Can this be done?” asked Dax grimly, holding the master-magiker’s gaze.
“I can separate your spirit from your soul, releasing it from the confines of your body, to travel between the realms.” Gan-Goran raised his hand to stop Dax asking the next obvious question. “The spirit and soul are different. The soul is the innate magic within everyone; the more magic, the brighter the soul. The souls of evil, foul men are black like pitch, lacking magic, but some have white souls—full of white magic. Now your spirit is what makes you the person you are. Your spirit can go on the journey without your soul. But, like I said, it has never been done. No one has, to my knowledge, completed the journey.”
“How long do I have?” asked Zane.
“Days, maybe weeks, no one knows for sure. It all depends on the innate magic’s power and your soul’s strength.”
Zane thought for a while. “Can you send me to this realm . . . this Yallaz’oom?” he asked, his tone flat.
“There is a way, but it is fraught with dangers.”
“What dangers?” asked Dax.
“I would have to put you into a death-trance to release spirit and send your soul to Yallaz’oom. Basically, I would have to kill you and use magic to keep your body alive. I could then send your spirit to the Grey Path and from there you could find the Realm of Yallaz’oom. Remember, in the Dark One’s realm, black magic is all-powerful and can corrupt even the strongest spirit. Once in his realm, you would have to find his palace and reclaim your soul from his dungeons.”
“You make it sound easy,” commented Dax sardonically.
“Well, it’s not,” snapped the old master-magiker. “The journey would be fraught with many dangers that even I do not know. To be honest, I do not know if anyone can survive it.”
Zane sat in silence for a while, his mind a whirl of questions. He looked up and glanced at the faces around the room. “Well, I have no choice, I have to go,” announced the young king, rising and staggering out the back door.
***
Aurillia followed Zane outside, leaving the others lost in their own thoughts. “I’ll go with you,” she said resolutely.
“No, I will not have that,” snapped Zane, rather more sharply than he intended.
“You cannot go alone,” pleaded Aurillia, astonished at his tone.
“He will not be going alone. I, Rayth will go with him,” said the burly man standing on the porch with hands on hips.
“And I, too,” announced Dax.
Thade walked out into the sunlight. “Oh well, you cannot break a winning team.”
Tanas also left the kitchen to join his friends, beaming a smile. “I cannot let you lot go and have all the fun, now can I?”
Zane’s eyes misted and for a moment, his voice was locked in his throat. Before him were his best friends and they were willing to go to hell for him—literally. “You’re the best of men. I’m the luckiest man in the world to be blessed with friends like you.”
“Good, so it’s decided. Gan!” called Dax. The old master-magiker stepped out into the sunlight. “We’re all going. Is that possible?”
“Possible? Yes, but remember, I will have to kill you first, in order to send you to his realm. That is something I will not enjoy doing.” Gan-Goran paused and sighed with resignation. The others wanting to travel with Zane had not surprised the old man, but what he had to do next caused him much discomfort. “I will need to make preparations. I should be ready by this evening.”
“Thank you, Gan,” said Zane sincerely, although his heart was in his throat at the thought of what was t
o come.
“I will make the necessary preparations, my liege,” said Gan-Goran, who shuffled off towards the woods.
***
Gan-Goran had gone out into the forest, gathering herbs and fungi, when one of the warriors approached him.
“It will be safe for them to travel? You can do this?”
“Yes, I can do this, but according to ancient lore, you can travel to the realm of darkness without my magic. You are, after all, going home.”
“Yes, I can, but only as my true self not as me and I want to keep my anonymity for a little while longer.”
“I will be using white magic to keep the bodies alive. I’m not sure if the magic will work on you.”
“We will have to wait and see. If the Divine One wills it, then my body will be protected like the others.”
“I will do as you ask.”
“Good.” The warrior strolled away without a backward glance, leaving the old master-magiker to continue foraging, his thoughts gloomy.
***
Later that afternoon, as the sun sat low in the sky, Gan-Goran returned to the house. “Everything is ready,” he announced. “I have found a place where the ritual can be performed. You should bring your weapons, for you will need to be touching them in order for them to travel with you. Only the men travelling and myself can be there, so I would suggest you say your goodbyes now.”
Thade and Dax gave Cara a long hug before leaving the house, silently followed by the blind warrior, Tanas. Zane and Rayth said goodbye to their families. There were a few tears shed, but the women remaining knew that this was Zane’s only chance to survive. Once outside, the five men silently followed the old magic-master through the woodlands, each lost in their own thoughts. Gan-Goran pointed to a cave. The men entered the cavern eroded out of dark grey rock and were greeted by a small flickering fire. Around the fire there were six blankets on the recently swept floor. Five of the blankets were laid out like beds, and the last was laid out for someone to sit on.
“My friends, please sit. We need to discuss something before you travel.”
The five friends sat around the fire, helped themselves to some water, and waited for Gan-Goran to make himself comfortable. Around them, the fire cast dancing shadows onto the angular walls and ceiling, giving the cave an eerie atmosphere.
“You could have picked a nicer place, Gan,” said Thade, trying to hide his fears.
“The earth magic is strong here, so it will have to do,” snapped the old man, his agitation born from concern, rather than anger.
“I was only saying . . . ” muttered Thade weakly, letting his sentence go unfinished.
“Everything I have told you is true. However, be warned that I do not know exactly what you men will face—that is the truth. I will use magic to keep your bodies alive here and will feed them to maintain their strength. Remember a few things: time works differently on the Grey Path and in Yallaz’oom. Days there are merely minutes here, so do not panic about how long you’re taking, but don’t dally.
“You will arrive on the Grey Path, the place between Hell and Paradise. There are creatures on the Grey Path called Yregs. They resemble the mythical dragons, and hunt all who are on the Path. They are deadly creatures that usually hunt in packs and sense people’s presence from the vibrations on the ground, and from sounds. Most importantly, do not leave the Path. No matter what you see or hear, do not leave the Path.
“You will know which way to travel as your spirits will naturally be drawn to your souls. Let me clarify something to you all: I have to send your souls to the Black Palace as though you are all Children of the Light and you all have to fight to get your souls back. Do you all understand?”
The group nodded.
“One thing I should mention, Zane’s condition will deteriorate. You will need to control him during phases of madness. The Blade of Yallas has not cut the rest of you, so you will not go through the same regression. Remember, you are all on a strict time scale. Do not hang around and take in the sights. You do not have much time.”
Gan-Goran shuffled on his blanket and closed his eyes. “Please lie on the blankets with your heads towards the fire.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Zane, unable to hid the fear from his voice.
Gan-Goran opened his eyes and smiled wryly. “Why, I am going to kill you.”
“Is that all,” muttered Dax, making himself comfortable, crossing his death-dealers on his chest.
“I should also mention, you travel with the weapons that you have now. Do not think you can create a new weapon out of thin air if you lose your own weapon—this is a myth and does not happen without Her help. I have travelled the Grey Path before and it is a desolate place, but you can survive. As long as I feed your bodies here you will not need to eat or drink, but you will tire. One last thing: any wound or injures you suffer on your journey, your body here will suffer the same—that includes death. Your body cannot survive long without your spirit, so please be careful and do not do anything reckless.” Gan-Goran squeezed Tanas’s shoulder and looked the other men in the eyes, holding Dax’s gaze a heartbeat longer than the others. He did not have to say anything else, everyone understood. “Good. Are you all comfortable?”
All nodded.
Gan-Goran closed his eyes and readied himself. He knew he would have to drop his concealment spell, and the Dark One would, for a brief while, know where they were. Taking a deep breath, he dropped the cloaking spell and started the death-trance spell.
***
The Dark One jerked his head north as if he had been struck. He stopped his stallion and concentrated. Malice moved his horse next to the Dark One and waited. The Dark One turned to face Malice.
“There are three Children of the Light to the north,” he growled.
“Are you sure, master?”
“Yes, whatever cloaking spell protecting them has been dropped. I will find their exact location.” The Dark One bowed his head and concentrated. After a short while, he looked at Malice again. “The concealment spell has been restored. I know they are to the north, but I am not exactly sure where.” He paused. “Send the Darklord to me at once.”
The Darklord’s blackened carriage arrived and the old man stepped out to approach the Dark One, bowing low. “You summoned me, master?”
“Yes Naats. I know the approximate location of several Children of the Light. I want you to create some Wraith Hounds to hunt them.”
“Yes master, of course, whatever you require, but I will need some materials.”
“Speak to Malice and he will get what you require.”
The Darklord turned to Malice and looked up at the silver-armoured warrior. “I will need ten humans - children are better to sacrifice—and five Talon Hunters.”
“It will be as you command,” said Malice, bowing. He turned on his heels, mounted his stallion, and galloped off.
***
Gan-Goran was forced to drop his concealment spell in order to complete his task. Initially, he used a simple sleeping spell to put the five men into a deep slumber. The old magic-master chanted softly in an ancient language that would have been coarse to the ears, had anyone been listening. The fire began to glow brighter and brighter, filling the room with white light. Gan-Goran moved two clay vases in front of him while he whispered his spell. He pushed out the first vase and started to wave his hands over it. His hands started to glow white. Light black smoke oozed from the first vase. The smoke rose and formed a thick veil that wafted over them and slowly descended on the five sleeping men. Unknown to the five men, the black veil floating down onto them was a potent poison, mixed with dark magic, to send them on their way.
The black veil of smoke rested lightly on the men. After a sudden gasp, each stopped breathing. Quickly, Gan-Goran moved the second clay vase forward and increased the pace of his spell. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the enchantment. From this vase, white smoke rose, effortlessly forming a thin mist. This quickly drifted down onto th
e bodies. When the white smoke touched the bodies, it seeped up their nostrils and down to their lungs. Suddenly, the men’s backs arced and they each took a deep, shuddering breath, inhaling more of the white magical smoke.
Gan-Goran opened his eyes and examined the friends. The five bodies were breathing evenly. Their spirits had been released and travelled on to the Grey Path, but with the use of white magic, their bodies continued to live in this realm. Gan-Goran swiftly reinstated the concealment spell and prayed to the Divine One. Now all he could do was wait. He knew that they would all now appear to be Children of the Light in the Realm of Yallaz’oom, and the dangers associated would come in force. Darkness and evil would relentlessly hunt them down—hunt them all except one.
***
Malice returned with ten children from surrounding farms and towns to be sacrificed by the Darklord, who completed the foul deed with glee.
Now, the Darklord knelt on the ground with the Blade of Yallas in front of him. Beyond the blade sat five large Talon Hunters, and before each were two clay bowls with the small hearts of the murdered children. The Darklord commenced chanting in an ancient language. The black crystal in the hilt of the Blade of Yallas started to glow, and an unsettling low hum filled the air. The Darklord commanded the Talon Hunters to eat the first set of the hearts now lying in bubbling, hissing blood. The beasts devoured the hearts and started to howl. began
The Darklord continued to chant. The hearts in the second bowel hissed, the blood boiling and spitting. Soon dense black mist filled the pots. The Darklord held the magic within his body for a moment longer and shivered with near orgasmic pleasure. He said a word of power and the mist glided up and hovered in an undulating black cloud. Slowly, the cloud descended, and the Talon Hunters inhaled the smoke.
The black crystal on the Blade of Yallas glowed brighter and the humming intensified. The Talon Hunters growled, moaned, and then howled in pain as they began to transform. Their bodies contorted, bones snapped, and muscles tore as they changed shape. Their arms twisted into front legs, their heads changed shape, and their eyes changed colour from yellow to black. The Darklord’s chant reached a crescendo—the end of the spell. The once Talon Hunters metamorphosed into baleful Wraith Hounds.