Shadow of the Arisen: An Epic Dark Fantasy Novel (Lands of Wanderlust Book 1)

by Paul Yoder

  “Too easy,” Fin said with a smug expression on his face, opening the door completely, revealing the long, black tunnel that stretched out before them.

  A moment of hesitation swept through the group as they waited for Fin to move through the iron gate.

  “Weapons out,” he issued in a low voice, unsheathing a long, cross-hilted stiletto, moving past the bars of iron, silently retrieving his candle as he passed.

  Leading with his candle, Fin slowly parted the veil of darkness at the mouth of the cave.

  17

  Servant of Ash

  Nomad put on his helmet and drew his curved sword as he followed Fin—Reza drawing her seax close behind. Bede unlooped a rounded mace as Jadu and Cavok took up the rear.

  Thankfully, the tunnel was rather consistently shaped, which freed up the company’s attention from worrying about knocking their heads on the cave ceiling and allowed them to focus their attention to the nooks and crannies along the cave walls.

  Nomad nudged Fin and pointed at a small object hanging from a string a few paces ahead of them.

  Moving up to the shriveled object, Fin plucked it from its noose, bringing it closer for inspection in the candle and torchlight.

  Hair began to singe as Fin brought the little noose closer to the flame, causing the two to realize what they thought had been a ratty hempen string was actually a tangled line of hair which was wrapped around a chunk of skin and meat.

  Flipping the giblet over, Fin dropped it as he and Nomad saw a half-ripped-off fingernail on the other side of the nub of flesh.

  “Eesh. A fingertip strung up by hair,” Fin murmured under his breath, loud enough for Reza to hear as she had come up to them to see what they had stopped in the middle of the cave to inspect.

  “Let’s not tarry,” Reza said in a low voice, looking around for potential threats as she waited for Fin to start the slow, quiet march up again.

  Only a few paces further down the tunnel, Fin and Nomad spotted two more hanging fingertips. Coming up to them, they could see a whole grouping of suspended fingertips beyond that.

  Grabbing at the hair string of the closest one, Fin yanked it from the tunnel roof, dislodging it easily. The rest of the network of strung fingertips jerked his way, all being strung together with fine hairs that Fin hadn’t seen before the tug. The chunks of meat and nails bobbed grotesquely up and down as he dropped the strand of hair Fin had in his hand.

  “It’s a web of hair,” Fin said, disgust thick in his voice.

  Nomad placed a hand across Fin’s chest, pushing him back a step and offered his torch to Reza who took it readily. Sweeping his foot out, gripping his sword hilt with both hands, he quietly drew a wide stance. Nomad quickly brought his sword swathing across the network of hair, cutting down numerous fingertips with the action.

  Continuing to arc his blade through the hair in front of him, Nomad carved a path through the web, leading the group further into the cave system with everyone following in a single-file line, surrounded by fingertips and hair on both sides of them.

  Fin, looking down to the cave floor to attempt to not step on the crunchy bits of bone, nail, and dried flesh, abruptly bumped into Nomad, looking up to find that Nomad had stopped and was looking off to the side.

  With one glance, Fin could see that Nomad was at full attention. Though he had not known the man for very long, Fin naturally trusted Nomad’s acuity, and he brought up his stiletto just as he saw a small outline of a head, two small black eyes whisking in and out of the candlelight.

  Knowing they had company that was well aware of them, Fin spoke clearly to the rest of the comrades behind him.

  “That thing Nomad said he saw earlier in the dark—it’s close by. Ready yourselves. It looked desperately hungry whatever it is.”

  The march halted, each member of the group pointing their weapons into the mass of hair, flesh, and darkness that surrounded them, probing for their unseen stalker.

  “Curse this darkness,” Bede breathed, trying to hold high her lantern to allow for more illumination for the whole group.

  Reza swayed her torch in a wide arc, sizzling the hairs that hung down from the ceiling, plopping countless fingertips to the floor in a sickening rhythm.

  “More light? I could help with that,” Jadu suddenly piped up, frantically digging through one of his many satchels that hung across his robes.

  “Now’s not the time for antics, Jadu,” Reza replied, sweeping her torch to her other side to give her a large circle to stand in, clear of the mortifying web.

  A few bottles began clinking together, Jadu set on whatever task he had assigned himself to.

  “Wait. Jadu—” Reza began, turning to glance at the little figure of robes and satchels, just then realizing that Jadu had vials of different colored liquids out, mixing substance with substance. If they were volatile substances the little praven played with, she had no way of knowing, but seeing how the last two times she had seen him with glass vials filled with unknown liquid, events had ended with a bang. She guessed the third time would be no different.

  Rushing past Bede to get to the little alchemist, she was a hands reach away when he dropped in a silver cube into a clear white liquid, igniting a chemical reaction before Reza could snatch it from him.

  The tunnel, which now was shown to be twenty-five feet across, lit up in a brilliant, penetrating silver light. The vial shown down through the tunnel, weaving around the network of hair, digging into each little crack along the wide tunnel’s walls.

  A hellish shriek sounded up ahead of them, and shielding their eyes from the intense light, they could make out a small, grey figure scurrying and tripping over itself, running into walls as it tried to escape Jadu’s light

  “Grab it!” Fin called to Nomad, holding his sword for him as the armored man put his visor’s crimson eye guards down, helping to cut the unnatural brilliance of the light by many degrees.

  Nomad rushed the creature. He knew that he would have to come in fast and hard. The thing was in a frenzy, and gently handling it was only going to result in his own injury.

  Stepping up to the creature, Nomad slammed the side of its head with an open palm, disorienting the thing even more, adding to its hysteria. It writhed on the ground shrieking and swiping with its clawed hands, showing its tormented visage to Nomad.

  It could almost pass for being praven, save for the sagging, unnatural features and ashy drooping skin. The area around its eyes now glinted with blood and gashes, and Nomad could see it was adding more cuts to its eyes with its sharp, long claws as the light burst through to hit its face directly as Nomad stepped out of the way of the light.

  It flipped back over on its front, trying to scuttle out of Nomad’s presence.

  Snapping out of his momentary awe, wondering if it was a living creature rather than an arisen, Nomad snapped an arm around its neck, locking his arm in a chokehold on the thing.

  The creature raked violently at the assailant, and if it were not for Nomad’s armor protecting him, the vicious claws might have cut him to the bone.

  Squeezing the little creature’s neck even tighter, muscles straining, Nomad shook the unbridled fight out of the little figure as it suddenly went limp in Nomad’s grasp.

  The fight had been violent and intense, but was over as quick as it had started.

  The rest of the group finished making their way through the tangle of hair, arriving by his side, looking over the strange creature that lay unconscious on the tunnel floor.

  “This thing is living,” Nomad said between breaths, taking his helmet off, strands of long hair clinging to his brow from the light perspiration he had worked up.

  “Sure is,” Fin agreed, looking uneasy at its mangled eyes. “Seems to not be the biggest fan of light either.”

  Jadu partially concealed his light vial and stepped forward, getting a better look at the figure that closely matched his size.

  Jadu’s features sla
ckened in distraught, showing an expression very rarely assigned to his face, Bede mirroring the same horrified expression, they alone seeming to recognize the identity of the creature.

  “Greyoldor,” Jadu whispered in a voice that almost sounded like a chant.

  “What is that, Jadu?” Reza asked in a worried tone, looking at the little praven.

  Bede cleared her throat, answering for Jadu, “It’s what becomes of a praven when given to the powers of one of the lords of hell—Telenthlanor—lord of ash.”

  The tunnel, strung with its macabre drapings, was silent, save for the crackle of torchlight.

  18

  Blessing of a Saint

  “Telenthlanor?” Fin said incredulously. “We’re in big trouble if our enemy has one of the lords of hell backing them.”

  “This does not bode well for our mission,” Reza agreed, still fixated on the small, ashen figure.

  “Or,…” Fin started, reasoning through an idea silently before continuing, “perhaps it does.”

  “How in the lower hells does this revelation work for us, Fin?” Reza shot back, audibly annoyed with the man she knew like a brother, knowing a shifty scheme was working its way through his mind.

  Turning to discuss the matter with the whole group rather than just Reza, Fin replied, “Well, we’ve got what we came for, right? We’ve confirmed that the troops at least are arisen abominations, just as former unconfirmed accounts asserted. We’ve found ties to a specific sect—followers of Telenthlanor. The city is occupied and their forces are mobilized. Their motives are obviously hostile to anyone not of their twisted ilk. That’s plenty to report back to Sultan Metus with. We would be presenting him with more information than any scouts before us—much more.”

  Reza was shaking her head, even before Fin had finished his argument.

  “We don’t know the enemy’s number. We don’t know who their leader is, we don’t know if Telenthlanor is the only deity worshiped among our enemy. There could be an alliance we’re not yet aware of. We don’t know their intentions. Are they actually mobilized and ready to stage an attack? If so, where and in how many numbers? Where within the city are their strongholds? Where are their leaders stationed?

  “I have many questions I would like answered. Perhaps we don’t get to all of them, but we need more information than what we currently have. Sultan Metus would not appreciate a lazy report. He hired us for this mission because he knew he could count on us to be thorough, not to show up at the walls and then turn back.”

  Fin, looking a bit deflated, glanced hopefully at the rest of the group for their thoughts on the subject.

  “I still haven’t gotten to dissect one of those arisen subjects,” Jadu offered, sounding a bit neglected, Fin staring the little praven down before Bede spoke up.

  “I side with Reza. This morning, there’s been a dread feeling come over me. This enemy we face, I feel, is part of a larger problem than perhaps anyone might believe to be. I sense…evil, very strongly in this city. We’ve seen hints at what wickedness resides here through the arisen army that passed us by and this servant of Telenthlanor, but I fear there are even bigger bugs under the floorboards of this city. We need a clearer picture of what’s inside these walls. To deliver an incomplete report to the sultan may undersell the dire threat that may reside here, which may cause him to misstep in his future decisions regarding how he is going to go about sieging Brigganden, if he so decides to, which could result in the loss of many lives. To underestimate your foe is the greatest mistake a commander can make.”

  Everyone siding against him, Fin gave a defeated smirk, twirled his stiletto once before sheathing it, and said, “Indeed,” leaving the conversation at that.

  Nomad, slightly distracted with the group’s conversation deciding their next move, snapped back to the greyoldor as it explosively came to, catching Nomad across the face with its surprisingly powerful arms, its claws digging in deep, hooking Nomad in the eye as it jumped up.

  Nomad covered his face immediately, clutching his gouged, bleeding eye socket as the greyoldor bolted away from the bright light that Jadu held.

  “Do I follow?” Fin asked Reza hastily, seeing the shadowy figure darting around the tunnel corner, out of sight.

  Nomad, lifting his hand away from his face for a moment showed that his eye had been completely mutilated, which the others could see now, blood streaking down his face in a long, bone-deep laceration.

  Nomad’s scream of agony was enough to answer Fin’s question, Reza quickly turning to Bede for consultation.

  “What can you do for him?” she asked, Bede already bending down to inspect the wound.

  Nomad had stilled somewhat, allowing Bede to confirm that the wound was as bad as it had originally appeared. The whole man’s face had been laid open by the scratch, and his eye had either been gouged clean out, or was so lacerated that it appeared only as a mangled ball of slick, bloody tissue.

  A moan, agony mixed with sorrow, issued from the incapacitated man followed by a solemn silence amongst the group, waiting for Bede to act as Nomad tensed in pain.

  Whispering something only audible to Nomad, Bede lifted up her glowing talisman out from behind her tabard, then, speaking in a tongue none in the group could understand, she began to commune with her god.

  The light of the talisman grew, shining brighter and brighter until it overtook even Jadu’s glowing vial, becoming so brilliant, the rest had to turn away, shielding their eyes to the light.

  Bede held the light, looking down at Nomad, Nomad looking up at her, both not seeming to be affected by the blinding light that was between them.

  Slowly, Bede, who seemed to be for a moment transformed into a being more heavenly than anything he had laid eyes upon in his life, came into focus in Nomad’s vision, the pain and blood sifting away.

  Reza and Jadu gasped, and Fin and Cavok stood staring, mouths agape, to find Nomad, whose eye and face had been destroyed a moment before the bright light, now appeared completely healed and intact.

  “Interesting…” Jadu murmured, pulling out a small journal and pen to scribble something down.

  Reza, eyes wide, knelt down to inspect Nomad’s healed face, tracing with her fingers over the area that had been repaired.

  “Bede, how—” Reza started, but then glanced at the glowing talisman, instantly being reminded of the revelatory night before between the two. She paused, finding her answer as to how she had healed Nomad’s wound so completely.

  Seeing that the rest of the group still stood in confusion, Bede smiled and answered, “It seems Elendium saw it vital for Hiro to have his vision for this mission.”

  “Hiro?” Jadu asked as Nomad started to stand back up.

  “That’s Nomad’s real name,” Reza answered, helping him to his feet.

  “Hmph. You think you know a guy,” Jadu said with a teasing smile, then added, “Well, I must say, quite an impressive display of divine healing, Bede. From what I’ve learned in my studies concerning gods, if a deity is willing to perform such a display of restoration on a person, that means that either the cause or the subject is of great importance to the said deity. So either this mission somehow is quite important to Elendium, or Nomad himself holds some key purpose in Elendium’s eyes. Interesting turn of events whatever the case. Glad I’m here to document it! A chronicler I am not, but for such a potentially important event, I wouldn’t mind taking a few notes here and there to hand over to my colleagues in the proper department in my college.”

  “There’s another reason such a miracle could be performed,” Reza said, catching Jadu’s attention, the praven very interested in hearing what other possibility he might have left out of his hypothesis.

  “The servant that performed the healing could be in great standings with Elendium.”

  Jadu tapped a thoughtful finger to his jaw.

  “Doubtful, but a possibility I suppose. No offense, Bede—but as I recall, generally speaking,
Elendium is not a god known for a free use of his powers amongst most of his followers, but only to the most senior members of the faith. My conclusions are much more likely.”

  Reza, slightly annoyed at the blasé shrug of her answer, turned to see what the others thought, finding Fin still with his mouth gaped open.

  Fin, looking at Bede, finally spoke. “Bede. Remember all those times I twisted ankles, pulled muscles, got bruised, cut up, broke bones, and you just put bandages and splints on me?”

  “Yes,” Bede answered, patting Nomad on his back as he picked up his helmet, tucking it under his arm.

  “Well?” Fin pushed, seeing that she wasn’t following where he was going with his claim.

  Showing that she had gotten his hint, Bede answered, lightly patting Fin’s cheek, “Well maybe next time you stub your toe, I’ll hand the bandages to Cavok to nurse your wound. Sound good, dear?”

  Bede’s sly remark got a chuckle out of Cavok who was standing behind Fin.

  Stooping down to reach for a leg, Cavok asked in a motherly tone, “Which toe did you stub, dearie?”

  Fin swatted him off vexingly, still confused as to the sudden miracle Bede had seemingly pulled out of nowhere.

  Nomad reached an arm out to Bede’s shoulder, causing her to turn around.

  Meeting eyes, he said in a tone that most missed over the banter of Fin and Cavok, “Thank you, Bede. The healing you performed, and those words you spoke, I shall cherish till the day I die. I am in both you and your God’s debt.”

  Bede returned Hiro’s compliment with an understanding smile as Reza stepped forward, speaking to the group.

  “That wretch that scuttled away may be off to alert someone of our presence. It’d be best if we kept moving now that Nomad is healed.

  “Fin. Nomad. Would you mind getting us out of this hole?” she said, swatting away a hanging fingernail that swayed a little too close to her face for comfort.

  “My pleasure,” Fin agreed, slapping at a still chuckling Cavok for good measure.