Crossing the plains at full speed they sought to make up the time lost from their meeting with Caelum. With his map in hand Drydan led them off the southern road and cut across country. It wasn’t long before they encountered the truth to Caelum’s words about how lawless the land had become. As they rode through a narrow valley they emerged onto fields that spread for several miles to the east. Drydan raised a hand signalling for them to slow their mounts. The scene before them was one of utter carnage. The broken bodies of hundreds of armored men lay scattered all over the blood stained ground. Discarded weapons lay alongside slain horses and tattered banners.
“Are these those mercenaries Caelum mentioned?” Thalen asked unable to take his eyes off the horrific sight.
“It looks like it. Keep your eyes open and ears alert. We’re now in hostile territory. If we stick to Caelum’s map we should avoid any clan patrols.”
Elara was aghast at the slaughter. Thalen trotted to her side and squeezed her hand.
“Why would men do such things to each other,” she said softly, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Humans have a lust for violence. Whether it be against themselves or the other races. Power is what drives them most,” Lyra remarked bitterly.
“We’ve already wasted too much time here. Come. We need to reach the mountain passes by nightfall,” Drydan said with a frown as he looked to the sky. A mass of dark clouds was forming to the west promising rain.
They moved on from the grisly battlefield, making sure to stick to the valleys and canyons depicted in Caelum’s map. The ground was uneven and rough making it hard going on the horses. Aeolian snickered several times with Lyra relaying his complaints to the group. Thalen patted the horse’s mane.
“I’m sorry, but it’s best to go this way then encounter the men who did that back there.”
Aeolian regarded him with a big blue eye. The intelligence behind it was clear to see and Thalen could tell that the animal was less than impressed. Eventually as the sun began to dip they reached the foothills leading to the looming Thunder Mountains. By dusk, the ominous silhouettes of the Thunder Mountains began to take shape in the horizon. But as the upward climb beckoned, Drydan, with a sharp gesture, drew their attention to a canyon below. There, tendrils of smoke lazily spiralled into the twilight, revealing a hidden camp.
Using his spyglass, Drydan analysed the encampment. "Clansmen," he murmured. "Stay low, stick to the shrubbery, and they'll remain oblivious to our presence."
As they carefully ascended, ensuring the foliage concealed them, the camp below remained undisturbed. Reaching the summit, they each allowed themselves a moment of relief, no alarm had been sounded, they were safe. For now.
The coming of night had never felt so terrifying to Thalen. Normally it promised a nice warm bed and peaceful slumber but this night he felt only a cold dread in his heart. They’d been forced to set up a camp in the foothills, Drydan choosing a dried riverbed that was shielded from view by the surrounding shrubbery. He’d debated whether to risk ascending the mountains in the dark but had quickly decided such action. They’d made sure to build their fire as large and as bright as they dared in case the distance they’d covered in the day was not enough to evade the Shadow Minion. After feeding the horses they huddled around the fire and ate their own meal. The tension was palpable and none of them were keen to try and sleep. Every sound had them on edge but eventually as the night progressed exhaustion took hold. Elara fell asleep with her head on Thalen’s shoulder and even Lyra’s eyelids were drooping.
“You should rest while you can Thalen. If the Shadow comes be sure I will let you know it,” Drydan said as he poked the fire with a stick. Thalen nodded and yawned. He gently helped a dozy Elara to her bedroll before crawling on to his own. It wasn’t long before sleep took him.
Drydan looked out into the darkness. The others were asleep, albeit restless due to the tossing and turning they were doing. As often happened when he was alone with his thoughts memories of his old life came to him. How long had it been since his arrival in Arcadia? He was no longer the scared young boy but a man with gray in his beard. He sighed, wondering if those he’d been forced to leave behind thought of him or even remembered him. The fear on his mother’s face, the rage on his father’s. He’d had no choice but to flee, his life had been in danger. As it normally did the anger flared in his chest and his hand quivered. He tensed it and then relaxed the fist that had formed. His whole life had been taken from him and for what? Petty jealousy, a lust for power? He’d run and run until he’d stumbled into the vastness of the Green. Amongst the trees he’d lost his pursuers and after days of stumbling blindly through the forest he had found Arcadia. The people took him in, nursed him to health and cared not for his past nor who he was. They saw him as a man in need and had given him a new life. It was a debt he would never be able to repay and it was why he had become its Protector. He’d been taken under the wing of the fearsome Riad, a man who had been the best swordsman he’d ever met. The day turned into months and years and under Riad’s tutelage he too had become a fearsome fighter. Together they had defended the Green and Arcadia, of those who had once hunted him he’d never seen them again. He had been free. He glanced over to the sleeping form of Thalen and frowned. He’d been free until now that is. The discovery of the shards of infinity had awoken old fears. News of the shard would no doubt find its way into the realms of men and inevitably into the ears of those he had long escaped. Men who would stop at nothing to get the power of the shards. He shuddered at the thought of what such men would do should they ever lay claim to the Infinity Orb itself. He'd heard the tales, of how mankind had rebelled against the Aldarins following the Breaking, how it had been at humankinds hands that the Goddesses chosen had been slain in their thousands and forced to flee into the distant places of the land. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He could not allow the shards to fall into the wrong hands, whether they be human, Silvari or whatever else sought them. A chill crept up his spine causing him to shiver and pull his cloak tighter around himself. His breathes now came in plumes of steam and an unnatural wind rustled the surrounding trees. Slowly he stood and drew his sword, the steel sliding smoothly from the leather scabbard. He turned. Standing at the edge of the campsite and just outside the range of the bright campfire was the Shadow Minion. It was once again in humanoid form, its yellow eyes staring. He glanced to where Thalen slept. The Whispering Stone made no sound.
‘Learned we have,’ the shadow hissed, a hint of humour in its tone. ‘Give me the stone.’
Drydan shook his head and raised his sword, settling into a fighting stance. He was about to shout and rouse the others when the shadow shifted shape. It morphed into another humanoid shape, this time taller and clearly in the shape of a man. Drydan’s eyes widened as he recognised the form.
“Give me the stone, brother. Give it to me and together we will find the shards and reforge the orb.”
It even had his voice.
“You will be welcomed home with open arms. Mother misses you so.”
Drydan took an involuntary step backwards as the shadow slowly advanced. The light of the fire gave it an even more sinister appearance as it was swallowed by the void of its essence.
“Give me the stone or I will kill them all.” The shadow snapped, its patience wearing thin.
Drydan felt his legs weaken and a wave of nausea swept through him almost making him gag. An oppressive presence the likes of which he had never felt before grew in intensity until it was almost too much to bear. The shadow paused once more, changing shape until it was now not one humanoid form but several. From their silhouettes he recognised his siblings, his father, his mother. He wanted to cry out, to scream a warning to the others but his voice caught in his throat. What was this thing? It knew all about his past, knew what his family looked like. The family that he had not seen since he was a small boy. He realised that he couldn’t move, his bones felt like ice. The shadows converged on him and he was helpless to stop them. Just as the unnaturally long shadowy fingers engulfed him a blinding flash forced the shadow back. He gasped as the shadow’s spell was broken. Behind him standing with her hands raised and emanating with an ethereal glow of magic was Elara.
The Shadow recoiled but quickly regrouped to form the mass it had been the first time they’d laid eyes on it. Thalen and Lyra scrambled awake quickly getting to their feet. The Silvari snatched up her bow and loosed an arrow at the Minion. The arrow whistled through the air, to pass straight through it.
“Run!” Drydan shouted.
Thalen and the others swiftly heeded the urgent command, rushing to their frantic horses. Aeolian's hooves drummed the ground in restless anticipation. In a fluid motion, Thalen released the harness anchoring him to a tree and swung up into the saddle. With a surge of power, Aeolian burst forth, rapidly distancing themselves from the camp. Casting a glance behind, Thalen spotted both Elara and Lyra in fierce pursuit. But of Drydan, there was no trace.
With a determined yell, Drydan lunged forward, swinging his sword with all his might. But just as in Arcadia, his blade swished through nothing but air.
A mocking ominous laughter emanated from the Shadow Minion , a sound that echoed eerily across the plains. It moved with an unnatural speed, its form dissolving and reforming in a matter of seconds. Drydan tried to anticipate its movements, but it was like trying to catch smoke with his bare hands.
Suddenly, the Shadow swept over him, its cold, dark tendrils wrapping around him, pulling him into its abyss. Drydan fought back, slashing and thrusting, but each strike met with emptiness. He was being overwhelmed. With every strike of the tendrils he could feel his strength fading. With a roar he threw himself backwards, freeing himself of the Shadows ethereal grip. He landed hard, his sword spilling from his grip. The Shadow swirled all around him.
“You are not the one I want,” the Shadow hissed.
Just as Drydan expected to receive a killing blow the Minion whooshed off into the night in pursuit of Thalen. Leaving the exhausted Drydan bruised and alone next to the now extinguished campfire.
Aeolian's hooves struck the earth like drumbeats of war, each step a resounding echo in the chilling mountain air. Thalen's knuckles whitened as he clenched the reins, his cloak billowing like a storm cloud behind him. The jagged terrain shifted beneath them, giving way to a sloping incline that grew steeper with each moment, leading toward an old mountain trail—forgotten by all but nature itself.
Summoning the courage to look back, Thalen's eyes widened in horror. The Shadow Minion, an abomination of darkness and malice, was surging forward, a relentless wave of terror. Elara and Lyra, on their own mounts, were pushing hard, but it was as if they were caught in a slow-motion nightmare. The Shadow was gaining ground, its loathsome form almost within reach.
His gaze snapped forward, and he saw salvation—or perhaps a fool's errand. A fork in the trail led to a plateau, a stretch of relatively flat ground. They could never outrun this monstrosity, but perhaps he could buy the others time. With a guttural shout and a forceful tug at the reins, Thalen guided Aeolian onto the divergent path.
Elara and Lyra shouted in alarm, their voices tinged with confusion and panic.
"Keep going!" Thalen hollered back, his voice tinged with both authority and desperation, hoping it would pierce through the cacophony of hooves and wind. For a precarious moment, the Shadow Minion seemed to hesitate at the fork. Then, with a growl that rumbled like distant thunder, it chose him.
A relieved yet anxious sigh escaped Thalen's lips as he felt a surge of magical strength flow from the pauldron on his shoulder. "You want the stone? Come and get it!" he roared, a defiant challenge that echoed off the mountain walls.
The path ahead narrowed perilously, forcing Aeolian into a breakneck canter along a winding trail bordered by sheer drops into bottomless ravines. Thalen closed his eyes for a split second, relying on Aeolian's instincts to navigate the treacherous terrain. His stomach churned with adrenaline and dread, as if he were on the edge of falling into the abyss himself.
But it wasn't just his imagination—Thalen felt a cold gust of wind blow past him, accompanied by an otherworldly screech. The Shadow Minion had unleashed its dark tendrils, seeking to ensnare him. His eyes snapped open just in time to see the shadowy appendages closing in, barely inches from his face.
With a surge of resolve, Thalen pulled hard on the reins, forcing Aeolian to come to a skidding halt. It was time to turn and face the nightmare pursuing him. The tendrils missed him by mere inches, whipping past him to dissolve into ethereal smoke. He dismounted, and drew his sword from the scabbard on his back. The magnificent Aldarin blade gleamed in the fading light. He planted his feet. He would confront the terror he could run from no longer.
Myths of Aldara: The Awakening Light is available to buy on all major retailers.
