Shadow Kingdom

by N. A. Oberheide

  “Wait! No not that again.” Naurus interjected to cut him off, “I just don’t get it. Are you…are you uh, the King?”

  “Yes and no.” Came the curt reply from the shadowed face.

  “So…where is the King then?”

  “He is closer than you think.”

  “Ok I still don’t get it. Who are you? Can’t you at least give me something to call you by?” Naurus blurted out, getting flustered by the cryptic answers.

  “I am the right hand of the King. I am the iron fist in the velvet glove. I am the stone that the builder refused. I am the bullet in the gun. I am the scales of justice. I am repentance, reprisal, and revenge. You may call me Recht.”

  “Uh…ok that’s cool I guess. So Recht, you don’t think security is a little lax around here? You’re literally the only person I’ve seen since I left the Kings District. So, the Crimson Guard is just a fairy tale after all?” Naurus asked incredulously.

  Recht didn’t answer. Instead, he unfurled his long, bony index finger and lifted his head up slightly as if looking over his guest’s shoulder in conjunction with the pointing gesture. Naurus was suddenly aware that there was a rather warm draft coming from behind him. He took a step forward as he wheeled around and found himself merely a few feet away and eye level with a massive breastplate. He took a few more steps back in surprise, and only then could fully appreciate what he was looking at.

  A pair of towering guardians stood there, completely motionless but utterly imposing. They were identical in every way and easily taller than draft horses. Their fully encased heads were framed by a helm that bore a grotesque caricature of a human face on the front in lieu of a more traditional visor. The eyes were especially of note, as the holes therein contained nothing but smoldering orbs like glowing coals that seemed to look at everything and nothing at the same time. Moving on down, was the breastplate and the rest of the plate armor that seemed to cover every square inch of these behemoths. The armor seemed to be painted scarlet, with matte black striping running symmetrically in thirds from the top of the breastplate on down through the gauntlets and greaves. Their strange helms looked as if they were painted in dried blood.

  In their hands were giant halberds just as impressive as they were. Naurus turned back around to look at Recht, struggling for words. He turned around again, but the fearsome guardians were no longer there.

  “How…wait…they just disappeared!” Naurus stammered out in disbelief.

  “Yes, isn’t it wonderful?” Recht smugly replied.

  “How do you find people that big? They were huge!”

  “They aren’t people, you utter dolt. They are…well let’s just say they are constructs. They don’t sleep, don’t eat, aren’t susceptible to fear or greed, and certainly don’t stand around the throne hall asking stupid questions.” Recht said with a bit of annoyance.

  “Uh…well that’s cool. But why am I here?”

  “I think you know why.”

  “No…I really don’t. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. Why—”

  “You ask too many questions, Naurus.” Recht cut him off. “Suffice to say I could have left you to die in those miserable woods. But I didn’t. I didn’t because you are no scumbag of a thief or a fugitive. You aren’t a complete loser like most the dregs that pass through looking for a quick bit of gold. In fact, it’s your father who owes me something. I knew his spawn would share the same qualities that got him in a heap of shit in his younger years. And here you are, with the Mark of the Thief upon your hand!” Recht made a motion with his hand as if pulling an invisible string attached to Naurus’s hand.

  He was powerless to resist as his arm extended and his palm splayed open towards the hooded figure controlling him with an invisible force. The sigil pulsed and burned, then suddenly stopped as he regained control of his arm.

  “My dad...what does he have to do with it? He’s just an acrobat, he works hard! How would you even know him?”

  Recht howled in a vicious laughter that filled every corner of the massive throne hall. Oddly enough there seemed to be no echo at all. The hooded head went back in a dramatic fashion but the hood and the shadow beneath it never gave way to what Naurus wanted to see so badly.

  “Why’s that so funny? This isn’t funny to me. What do you want from me?” He was starting to get frustrated with this ordeal.

  Recht finally stopped laughing and continued as if that was completely normal to do in front of guests. “It’s hilarious because your father has pulled the wool over your eyes! Acrobat…good heavens that’s a nice way of putting it. One day you will learn, but for now it’s just business. You will do what I ask of you, and nothing more.”

  “And if I don’t?” Naurus asked through his teeth.

  “You will forever bear that curse you have attained, and it will kill you. I can help you with that. Scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours.”

  “Right, but what does my father have to do with this?”

  Recht sighed deeply, then went on. “You see Naurus, he used to work for me. You probably don’t believe that but trust me on this. You have been deceived about much in your short life as will become apparent soon. This is all for good reason though. I need a favor from you and in turn I will help banish the curse that has haunted you since your little misadventure out to where you didn’t belong. Fortune has a way of bringing it all together, you see.”

  “And what is this favor?” Naurus was getting increasingly nervous, fidgeting and shifting around.

  “You must go to your father, and he must return to Walsvern Woods with you. I will meet you there. He is—”

  “What do you mean go back there?! Are you trying to kill—”

  Recht brought his open palm up and then snapped it shut into a clenched fist. Naurus suddenly felt completely unable to open his mouth and could only breath with difficulty. Recht opened his hand, and the pressure relieved.

  “My my, you are quite the rude little shit. A mouthy, snotty firebrand just like your father.” Recht started sternly, sounding decades younger suddenly. “Now that you won’t open your cakehole again without my say so, let's go on. Your father and I have some unfinished business. He however will not go easily with you. He is stubborn and obstinate, getting worse in his old age. So you must give him this, and say exactly what I say to him. Think of it as secret little message. Only that it has much more...conviction coming from his own blood.”

  Recht approached him and grabbed his hand, turning the palm up. In that hand he dropped a short, iridescent, metallic rod, hardly thicker than a pistol ramrod. Looped through the end of this rod was a small golden ring. This looked like little more than a fancy keychain at best.

  “Now, you don’t know what this is, I know. That much is unimportant to you right now. It however means something very deeply to your father; a relic of the past let's just say. You must hand this to him, and say ‘The rod and the ring will strike’. He should reply in another message, involving a dragon and water. If he does, and he will, then you will have his ear on behalf of me.”

  “How uh...” Naurus barely squeaked out, then he cleared his throat violently, “How do you know? What if he doesn’t say anything or doesn’t know?”

  “You are quite the curious little bugger indeed. Let's just say he used to work for me. He will know. He will know that I know. You will know too as soon as you say that to him. He and I had a little falling out quite some time ago. It will be much easier this way, for both of us.”

  Naurus put the rod and ring in a pouch on his belt and anxiously looked around, suddenly unsure of what the future held and what all this even meant.

  “Do not fret my boy. Fortune is a woman after all. She favors the young for they are more audacious and command her with greater fortitude.”

  “So uh...I guess I’ll be on my way?” Naurus asked nervously.

  “No, not yet. I have something to show you first. Follow me.” Recht said as he walked to a painting hanging on the wall adjacent to
the wall to the throne.

  It wasn’t a particularly special piece, merely a painting of a man fighting a dragon, breathing fire and all. However, Recht placed his hand on a particular stone on the wall next to it and murmured some incantation under his breath. A low rumbling quickly became a grinding as the painting and the wall it was attached to pivoted outwards allowing ingress behind it. Recht went in and Naurus soon followed, finding himself on a landing with a smooth stone staircase spiraling both above and beneath him. Recht murmured something else, and a ball of fiery light apparated from his hand and then floated above his head, casting light exactly where it needed to go. He followed his mysterious host down for what felt like a few minutes in complete silence. Soon they were at a thick, well-worn wooden door on a landing and proceeded through that. A meandering walk through some torch lit hallways finally seemed to be getting somewhere. Naurus noticed a door that was open to his right and finally just had to ask.

  “So Recht, where are we going anyway?”

  Recht paused and turned, then answered, “Somewhere, given your proclivities, you should quite enjoy in fact.”

  This wasn’t really the answer he was fishing for, but just as they passed the open doorway horrible screams and painful yelling echoed from the damp, dark corridor that he now was staring into. Recht gestured with his hand and the door slammed shut in front of him. Naurus was startled and could still hear muffled yelling. Recht continued on before noticing his guest still standing there in shock.

  “What’s the matter now?” He impatiently asked.

  “Who...what was that? Is there a dungeon down there? Sounds like someone is about to die...” Naurus worriedly replied.

  “Oh don’t you worry, that was merely the captain, and I use that term loosely, that attempted to take you and the ship you were on captive. He’s been singing like a bird as you can tell.” Recht chuckled but was only met with a blank stare from his baffled guest.

  “You see Naurus, he hurt and killed your crewmates, your fellow citizens, and the King’s subjects. He was responsible for that folly you had to endure. Now, with a little physical therapy and mental reconditioning we are ensuring that he divulges what we need to know to prevent more harm coming to our peoples.”

  “So is that what you brought me down here for?”

  “No, don’t be a smartass now. Forgive me for the door being left open, the physical therapists are not the sharpest knives around. Follow me, just around the corner now.”

  They continued on and rounded a corner. A great double door richly engraved with strange patterns and iridescently shimmering metal reinforcement lay before them. Recht produced a long, cylindrical key seemingly out of thin air and inserted it into the lock hole and turned it with a satisfying serious of clicks and clacks. The door swung open in complete silence, greeting them with a blast of cool and dry air. Naurus followed his host inside, and was greeted with almost pitch blackness. Recht snapped his fingers, and the assortment of torches and candles in front of them flamed to life. He found himself standing in the foyer of a large circular room wherein the walls were lined with bookshelves that were simply packed edge to edge.

  Looking up, a great golden chandelier lit up the mezzanine above him which as well was circled with packed bookshelves in a perfect circle around this large domed room. The smell of parchment, vellum, ancient wood and even older leather filled the room with a comforting smell. The center of the room was a reading area, replete with lounge chairs, desks, lecterns, magnifying glasses, fountain pens and blank paper. It was obvious no expense was spared for this furniture as the wood was richly stained and finished, the padded leather seats studded with brass, and everything looked practically brand new unlike the beat down and torn up reading areas within most public athenaeums.

  “I take it you like what you see?” Recht broke the silence and snapped his guest out of his trancelike state.

  “Yeah, this is quite the collection! What is all this? I’ve never seen so much in one place!”

  “Oh, you’d be dead of boredom by the time I named everything in here. It’s everything from codices and manuscripts to contemporary history and poetry. In here is thousands of years of our collective history and perhaps some of the most valuable works in our kingdom. I trust you won’t go mouthing off about this to everyone and their mother? That would be most unfortune for you...and them.”

  “Uh...yes of course. I won’t tell anyone, I swear!” Naurus said as he plopped down on a chaise.

  “You don’t seem as excited as I thought you would. Ektor won’t shut up about how much you bother him!”

  “I’m sorry, I’ve been walking all damn day and night and I’m beat. Wait...how do you know Ektor?”

  “Well every time you have a weird request it filters up through me to loan a book from here. We’ve known each other for a while now actually. I’m surprised that poison he brews for you actually hasn’t killed you yet. Foul stuff, that is.”

  Naurus chuckled, then replied, “Yes, it’s nasty but it’s all I have. So, you’ll help me if I run some errands for you eh? Why did you bring me here though? I doubt I can just come up here willy-nilly and waltz in here.”

  “You would be correct, at least for now. One day yet you may earn access to this whole library, but as I’m sure you can tell it’s simply invaluable. I trust very few with it. You have no idea how lucky we are those assholes didn’t bother any of this when the empire broke up…”

  “Who?”

  “The Ostragans, that’s who. Those double crossers would kill their own mothers for a shiny coin. It’s quite unfortunate we ever bothered consummating into an empire really. Oh well, I digress.”

  Naurus yawned loudly and laid back.

  “So, I guess I’m crashing here tonight?”

  “No.” Recht started, “In fact you get to sleep in your own bed tonight.”

  “How? Are you trying to tell me I have to walk all the way back now? I wouldn’t get there until past dawn!” Naurus spat out frustrated. Recht simply laughed.

  “No you dummy. I have a better idea. It’s much faster but will be somewhat scary for you. I’m going to have you shadow stride your way back. Long story short, I will open a dimensional door to the Shadow Realm and there you will be essentially weightless and able to fly. Seeing as you have no innate control over magicka yet, I will have to guide you through it. You won’t see me, but I’ll be there. I can telepathically communicate with you and help you get home.”

  “So…that doesn’t really sound fun. How will I even know how to get back home in this whole different world of yours?”

  “Well, it’s not so much different from our world. You would be seeing our city from above, just an ethereal and somewhat distorted version of it. In the Shadow Realm, the dark is light and the light is dark. You will clearly see your home in the distance, and once you fly there a dimensional door will open in your room and you will be safe and sound. Ready to get this going now?” Recht asked with a hint of impatience.

  “Sure, I guess?” Naurus sat up, unsure of what exactly he was getting himself into.

  Recht gestured and recited an incantation in a strange tongue. The tips of his fingers lit up and glowed as if they were red hot, and with them he traced a quick rectangle through the air as a trail of floating sparks came off his fingers then disappeared instantly. Several steps in front of Naurus, a shimmering column of air became apparent. Within a few seconds it had grown to the size of a full doorway, the outline wavered, and a strange vacuum seemed to be drawing the air in the room towards it as an obvious draft sprung up just then. Looking into the doorway, a crude mirage of the city from a bird’s eye view above the fortress they were in was apparent.

  “…I just walk in there?” Naurus asked.

  “Yes, it’s not as complicated as it seems. I will help you through it. You will feel as if you are floating, because you will be. Don’t be alarmed, as you will not be walking. We’re going as the bird flies! Now go on.”

  Nauru
s walked up to the shimmering doorway, and the draft of air sucking in towards the door became noticeably stronger as he got closer to it. Standing at its threshold, a very strong static current prickled across his hair. The wavering image of the city plunged into darkness stood before him. He felt a shove at his back. He closed his eyes and tensed up. Suddenly, he felt very light and the sensation of falling overcame him. He opened his eyes and found himself floating above the keep, but not falling. He flailed around trying to right himself and eventually got to a position that looked more as if he were swimming through the air.

  Looking down, the city was glowing as it ever did at night but something was much different. The torches and lanterns that were all over instead gave off a black inky glow, and the areas shrouded in darkness were warmly lit and inviting. Everything was inverted and combined with the floating and falling sensation he was overcome by vertigo. It stopped as suddenly as it came on.

  “Easy there, just relax and breathe. Look towards your house, do you see a beacon there?” Recht’s voice filled his head.

  Naurus looked south and indeed did see a thin but obvious shaft of light.

  “How do I get there?” He asked out loud, still flailing about but not moving very much.

  “Just fly. Picture it. Feel it. Will it. This is mind over matter. Don’t think about it, just do it.” Came the reply in his head.

  Naurus did as he was told, and soon he did start moving forwards. It was slow at first, but as he focused and relaxed more it became gradually faster. He had only ever experienced anything like this in a dream, but this was far more lucid than any dream he had ever experienced. The city beneath him was nothing but shades of white, grey, and black but all the same was alive with nightlife, every person therein being highlighted as a shadowy humanoid shape instead. Same for animals, as all of them were just shadowy visages of their true selves. The buildings and streets seemed to morph and shift in response to the ever-changing sources of light. The reversal of light and dark made it obvious who was up to no good, and this was rather distracting. He focused so long at looking down he felt himself falling towards the ground as well.