AN: Hi. I'm back. Long time no see huh? New, new, never before
seen chapters can be found at my website...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Nightmares: Chapter Five~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
For once Zaite did not have to quiet his men. Uneasy, disturbed,
hushed silence reigned as they rode through the desolate land.
Spirit's Wood was bare, stripped of life, dead in a sense that went
farther than that which was opposite of life. Their spooked mount's
hooves kicked up ash as stone trunks towered over them and spread
equally dead branches up overhead, like skeletons.
They plodded onward by grim accord, faces set, scarred souls horrified
by the utter desolation laid waste to a land that had been teeming
only a week before. Zaite had seen what Spirit's Wood had looked like
when he had stood on one of the balconies of Roshana's Palace to
receive orders from General Kunzath, a man so cold most of the men
feared him. Where there had once been green had existed only gray... a
depressing powdery gray that stood out on the border shared between
Roshana and Bleserd like a festering wound.
Perhaps the new King Darius had refused to believe what his eyes told
him... perhaps General Kunzath had refused to believe the evidence as
well... Zaite hadn't needed to set foot in this doomed place to tell
his superiors that this had been the work of the Sleeping Ones... Of
one of the Five Lords of Nightmares, perhaps THE Lord of Nightmares.
What other being could kill a forest with his touch?
There would be no keeping the news from the common people now... Not
when they could stand upon a hill and see the tangible evidence of the
Sleeping Ones' awakening in the dark promise of Spirit's Wood. Chaos
would ensue. Memories were vague of the rule of the Sleeping Ones but
there seemed to be an instinctual fear passed on, generation to
generation. Even babes feared the Lords of Nightmares.
The armies had quietly been massed and orders given. Roshana was
ready for battle, silently poised, but ready. Soldiers knew that the
wild rumors running through the country were true and were forbidden,
on threat of a traitor's death, from saying or hinting at anything,
even to their own families.
There would be panic and Zaite shuddered. He had seen a mob once, had
seen a child crushed beneath an uncaring people's heels. Imagine if a
whole country panicked, if two did, for Bleserd would share in
Roshana's fate. They had been one country centuries past, one country
which had been the birth of the Five, humanity's saviors. One country
split in two but together they would, had to, face whatever wrath the
Sleeping Ones wished to inflict.
For once Zaite was feverishly glad that he was an orphan and that he
had no wife, or children. He doubted that few would survive the time
of trouble that was coming. Coming soon, so soon. For from the
slopes of the gentle mountains which had once been covered with a
carpet of trees, now dead, a line of clouds, dark, dirty, stretched
across the horizon, over the sea, as far as the eyes could see. There
was nothing natural about that line of menace, nothing natural,
nothing comforting. They promised death, instinct as old as
humanity's birth told Zaite that, and would tell any other who looked
at them.
"Come on men," he barked, "full speed back to Rosha." The men stared
at him quietly, faces shuttered, closed. Finally one urged his mount
forward, met Zaite's piercing green gaze and looked quickly away.
"Sir," Jamus said softly, "we was wondering... Only a fool would be
blind not ta see what's there, not to know the rumors are truth.
There's no point in going back. Bleserd's just on the other side of
those mountains and the passes are still open..." Zaite winced. He
had not thought that it would come to this so quickly. He did not
chide his man. Normally such comments would force charges of treason,
or at least court marshal, but Zaite had no intention of reporting
Jamus or any of the others who were looking towards the border with
longing, not in the face of the Sleeping Ones.
"And you think they won't take Bleserd as well Jamus? We were one
country when we defeated them last. Why should Bleserd be safer?"
Rone, a young man, broke through the ranks, fear plainer on his
untrained face than the others.
"Fine then," he said sharply, loudly, "what about the lands beyond?"
Zaite simply looked at him, coolly.
"And after they conquer our lands, where will they turn? The Sleeping
Ones owned the world Rone, why should they settle for less now? If we
must die wouldn't you rather die a hero than a traitor?" Rone broke
eye contact first and Jamus spoke again.
"Then is it so sure, that we will die?" Zaite gave the soldier
credit, his voice never wavered. His men were not cowards but even
kings trembled before the power of the Sleeping Ones.
"No," Zaite replied. "There was no hope before, and then the Five
came. They triumphed, and we live because of them..."
"The Five are dead..."
"Yes,' Zaite replied swiftly, softly, "but perhaps their spirits live
on. Do you truly think that we will vanish into darkness, into
eternal night, without a fight? Come, we must ride." He kicked his
mount and the horse, only to glad to be rid of a place that whispered
of newly created ghosts, galloped away. Zaite did not look back until
he cleared the skeletal forest but when he did all him men were behind
him, white faced, more frightened than he had ever seen them and they
were tough men, but behind him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Aimes stifled a yawn and gripped the pommel of her mount's saddle to
catch her balance. Jadreth looked over, face concerned. "You sure
you're all right?" he asked. Aimes nodded gamely and smiled, though
it was pained.
"Yes," she replied softly. "I've never ridden a horse before. While
I find the experience interesting I'd probably enjoy it a lot more if
I didn't do it for fourteen hours each day." Jadreth winced and
dropped back from his position as lead on the road.
"Lady Aimes, I am sorry... If there was any other way..." Aimes
leaned over and patted his arm awkwardly before returning her death
grip on the pommel.
"I know Captain, I know. I've seen the shadows of the Sleeping Ones,
felt them grip my heart." Roshana, Darius needed him, the expelled
prince, the tarnished knight, the fallen angel, the bloodied hero. "I
do not chide your haste, I only wish I was more able to accommodate
you." Jadreth smiled and bowed slightly in his saddle.
"My Lady, your presence is accommodation enough." He did not say the
rest, what his frank blue eyes managed to convey, but Aimes knew.
Knew he feared what he was returning to. Knew he saw his princedom as
a trap, a cage, a gilded cage but a cage none the less. Knew he had
made bitter enemies before he had renounced his birthright. Knew he
had not seen his cousin since he was a boy and was afraid of what kind
of man he had become. Knew how much he hated politics and intrigue.
Knew how he longed for the ocean with all of his soul. Knew how he
felt like he was abandoning his ship, his crew, but knew, just as
innately, that he had no other choice.
They had been on the road three long weeks. In that time Aimes had
seen more of Roshana than she had ever dreamed of, ever wished to.
She herself longed for Ocean's Love with an intensity that frightened
her. She missed her home and she too felt like she was abandoning
something, her people, the men and women and children that she had
cared for all her life. They would need her, in the coming weeks,
months, years. They would need her if, when the Sleeping Ones came.
They would need her and she would not be there because someone,
something, needed her more.
The need, unexplained, undefined, drew her to Roshana, bound her to
the man she rode beside. Her fate was linked, at least in part, with
his. Aimes had never been a big believer in destiny, in
predestination, but something pulled her from the safety of the only
home she had ever known. Something demanded her presence, demanded
her allegiance. Something demanded her strength. Her full mouth
thinned, hardened, and she closed cerulean eyes, biting back a weary
sigh.
"Is it truly necessary, that I wear this?" she asked in a way of
breaking the uneasy silence that had descended between them.
Jadreth's eyes traveled the length of her breeches, loose peasant
shirt, and flowing, coarse cloak before nodding emphatically. He was
dressed much the same way, though slightly better.
"Yes," he replied shortly, without elaboration.
"I'm not a child Captain," Aimes snapped tiredly. "I know the pain
that can befall an undefended woman. I know why the girls are sent to
collect crabs and drift wood when a ship docks at Ocean's Love. I am
a healer." Jadreth's face softened and it was his turn to lean over
and offer comfort.
"You shall never be undefended Lady, as long as I draw breath, but as
skilled as I may be with a sword or dagger I fear a group of bandits
would overpower even me. Its safer to appear a man, at least for
now. We'll be in Rosha soon, no more than another four days of hard
travel and we'll be at the city gates." Aimes nodded and smiled.
"Four days," she repeated softly, for strength. Jadreth nodded
encouragingly and urged his steed ahead of Aimes's dainty mare. They
continued onward.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Rhi slipped through the alley ways of Brenith, a large mining town
that sprawled at the base of the mountains that separated Bleserd and
Roshana, though the town itself was within Bleserd's borders. Walaw
and Waerl trailed silently behind her, moving shadows outlined with
splashes of dirty white fur. She moved silently, unseen, unnoticed, a
temporary blemish against the brick and stone of the building walls
she followed.
She passed taverns, inns, and bars. Walaw or Waerl left her
temporarily to scavenge for scraps of food. Rhi couldn't afford to
feed them; she could barely afford to feed herself but then, they were
true Landless animals... they did not need her charity. She had not
taken much from her home the night she had slipped away. Her wedding
ring glinted dully on one finger and she curled her hands into fists
as she moved swiftly.
Her long hair was unbound, a free waterfall of ebony that reached down
her back. She wore the clothes of a peasant but the material was
finer, colors brighter. She only lacked true jewelry but then, that
would impede her movement and Rhi, unlike her people, was a practical
woman. Growing up the daughter of a merchant and the wife of a noble
had taught her the expediancy of that.
She would be home soon, another week's travel, perhaps. Rhi's heart
soared at the thought. She had not her mother's magic, Fate had seen
to deny her that much, but she had enough to know where her people
were. They called to her, pulled her by her weary soul towards their
own. Slender fingers stroked the feather tied securely to her vest
and Rhi sighed as she leaned against a cool brick wall.
She looked up, into the night sky, and couldn't quite contain the
shiver that ran down her body as fat snowflakes fell from the
heavens. She'd need to either buy or steal a cloak before she went
into the mountains. Hopefully she wouldn't freeze before she found
her family.
seen chapters can be found at my website...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Nightmares: Chapter Five~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
For once Zaite did not have to quiet his men. Uneasy, disturbed,
hushed silence reigned as they rode through the desolate land.
Spirit's Wood was bare, stripped of life, dead in a sense that went
farther than that which was opposite of life. Their spooked mount's
hooves kicked up ash as stone trunks towered over them and spread
equally dead branches up overhead, like skeletons.
They plodded onward by grim accord, faces set, scarred souls horrified
by the utter desolation laid waste to a land that had been teeming
only a week before. Zaite had seen what Spirit's Wood had looked like
when he had stood on one of the balconies of Roshana's Palace to
receive orders from General Kunzath, a man so cold most of the men
feared him. Where there had once been green had existed only gray... a
depressing powdery gray that stood out on the border shared between
Roshana and Bleserd like a festering wound.
Perhaps the new King Darius had refused to believe what his eyes told
him... perhaps General Kunzath had refused to believe the evidence as
well... Zaite hadn't needed to set foot in this doomed place to tell
his superiors that this had been the work of the Sleeping Ones... Of
one of the Five Lords of Nightmares, perhaps THE Lord of Nightmares.
What other being could kill a forest with his touch?
There would be no keeping the news from the common people now... Not
when they could stand upon a hill and see the tangible evidence of the
Sleeping Ones' awakening in the dark promise of Spirit's Wood. Chaos
would ensue. Memories were vague of the rule of the Sleeping Ones but
there seemed to be an instinctual fear passed on, generation to
generation. Even babes feared the Lords of Nightmares.
The armies had quietly been massed and orders given. Roshana was
ready for battle, silently poised, but ready. Soldiers knew that the
wild rumors running through the country were true and were forbidden,
on threat of a traitor's death, from saying or hinting at anything,
even to their own families.
There would be panic and Zaite shuddered. He had seen a mob once, had
seen a child crushed beneath an uncaring people's heels. Imagine if a
whole country panicked, if two did, for Bleserd would share in
Roshana's fate. They had been one country centuries past, one country
which had been the birth of the Five, humanity's saviors. One country
split in two but together they would, had to, face whatever wrath the
Sleeping Ones wished to inflict.
For once Zaite was feverishly glad that he was an orphan and that he
had no wife, or children. He doubted that few would survive the time
of trouble that was coming. Coming soon, so soon. For from the
slopes of the gentle mountains which had once been covered with a
carpet of trees, now dead, a line of clouds, dark, dirty, stretched
across the horizon, over the sea, as far as the eyes could see. There
was nothing natural about that line of menace, nothing natural,
nothing comforting. They promised death, instinct as old as
humanity's birth told Zaite that, and would tell any other who looked
at them.
"Come on men," he barked, "full speed back to Rosha." The men stared
at him quietly, faces shuttered, closed. Finally one urged his mount
forward, met Zaite's piercing green gaze and looked quickly away.
"Sir," Jamus said softly, "we was wondering... Only a fool would be
blind not ta see what's there, not to know the rumors are truth.
There's no point in going back. Bleserd's just on the other side of
those mountains and the passes are still open..." Zaite winced. He
had not thought that it would come to this so quickly. He did not
chide his man. Normally such comments would force charges of treason,
or at least court marshal, but Zaite had no intention of reporting
Jamus or any of the others who were looking towards the border with
longing, not in the face of the Sleeping Ones.
"And you think they won't take Bleserd as well Jamus? We were one
country when we defeated them last. Why should Bleserd be safer?"
Rone, a young man, broke through the ranks, fear plainer on his
untrained face than the others.
"Fine then," he said sharply, loudly, "what about the lands beyond?"
Zaite simply looked at him, coolly.
"And after they conquer our lands, where will they turn? The Sleeping
Ones owned the world Rone, why should they settle for less now? If we
must die wouldn't you rather die a hero than a traitor?" Rone broke
eye contact first and Jamus spoke again.
"Then is it so sure, that we will die?" Zaite gave the soldier
credit, his voice never wavered. His men were not cowards but even
kings trembled before the power of the Sleeping Ones.
"No," Zaite replied. "There was no hope before, and then the Five
came. They triumphed, and we live because of them..."
"The Five are dead..."
"Yes,' Zaite replied swiftly, softly, "but perhaps their spirits live
on. Do you truly think that we will vanish into darkness, into
eternal night, without a fight? Come, we must ride." He kicked his
mount and the horse, only to glad to be rid of a place that whispered
of newly created ghosts, galloped away. Zaite did not look back until
he cleared the skeletal forest but when he did all him men were behind
him, white faced, more frightened than he had ever seen them and they
were tough men, but behind him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Aimes stifled a yawn and gripped the pommel of her mount's saddle to
catch her balance. Jadreth looked over, face concerned. "You sure
you're all right?" he asked. Aimes nodded gamely and smiled, though
it was pained.
"Yes," she replied softly. "I've never ridden a horse before. While
I find the experience interesting I'd probably enjoy it a lot more if
I didn't do it for fourteen hours each day." Jadreth winced and
dropped back from his position as lead on the road.
"Lady Aimes, I am sorry... If there was any other way..." Aimes
leaned over and patted his arm awkwardly before returning her death
grip on the pommel.
"I know Captain, I know. I've seen the shadows of the Sleeping Ones,
felt them grip my heart." Roshana, Darius needed him, the expelled
prince, the tarnished knight, the fallen angel, the bloodied hero. "I
do not chide your haste, I only wish I was more able to accommodate
you." Jadreth smiled and bowed slightly in his saddle.
"My Lady, your presence is accommodation enough." He did not say the
rest, what his frank blue eyes managed to convey, but Aimes knew.
Knew he feared what he was returning to. Knew he saw his princedom as
a trap, a cage, a gilded cage but a cage none the less. Knew he had
made bitter enemies before he had renounced his birthright. Knew he
had not seen his cousin since he was a boy and was afraid of what kind
of man he had become. Knew how much he hated politics and intrigue.
Knew how he longed for the ocean with all of his soul. Knew how he
felt like he was abandoning his ship, his crew, but knew, just as
innately, that he had no other choice.
They had been on the road three long weeks. In that time Aimes had
seen more of Roshana than she had ever dreamed of, ever wished to.
She herself longed for Ocean's Love with an intensity that frightened
her. She missed her home and she too felt like she was abandoning
something, her people, the men and women and children that she had
cared for all her life. They would need her, in the coming weeks,
months, years. They would need her if, when the Sleeping Ones came.
They would need her and she would not be there because someone,
something, needed her more.
The need, unexplained, undefined, drew her to Roshana, bound her to
the man she rode beside. Her fate was linked, at least in part, with
his. Aimes had never been a big believer in destiny, in
predestination, but something pulled her from the safety of the only
home she had ever known. Something demanded her presence, demanded
her allegiance. Something demanded her strength. Her full mouth
thinned, hardened, and she closed cerulean eyes, biting back a weary
sigh.
"Is it truly necessary, that I wear this?" she asked in a way of
breaking the uneasy silence that had descended between them.
Jadreth's eyes traveled the length of her breeches, loose peasant
shirt, and flowing, coarse cloak before nodding emphatically. He was
dressed much the same way, though slightly better.
"Yes," he replied shortly, without elaboration.
"I'm not a child Captain," Aimes snapped tiredly. "I know the pain
that can befall an undefended woman. I know why the girls are sent to
collect crabs and drift wood when a ship docks at Ocean's Love. I am
a healer." Jadreth's face softened and it was his turn to lean over
and offer comfort.
"You shall never be undefended Lady, as long as I draw breath, but as
skilled as I may be with a sword or dagger I fear a group of bandits
would overpower even me. Its safer to appear a man, at least for
now. We'll be in Rosha soon, no more than another four days of hard
travel and we'll be at the city gates." Aimes nodded and smiled.
"Four days," she repeated softly, for strength. Jadreth nodded
encouragingly and urged his steed ahead of Aimes's dainty mare. They
continued onward.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Rhi slipped through the alley ways of Brenith, a large mining town
that sprawled at the base of the mountains that separated Bleserd and
Roshana, though the town itself was within Bleserd's borders. Walaw
and Waerl trailed silently behind her, moving shadows outlined with
splashes of dirty white fur. She moved silently, unseen, unnoticed, a
temporary blemish against the brick and stone of the building walls
she followed.
She passed taverns, inns, and bars. Walaw or Waerl left her
temporarily to scavenge for scraps of food. Rhi couldn't afford to
feed them; she could barely afford to feed herself but then, they were
true Landless animals... they did not need her charity. She had not
taken much from her home the night she had slipped away. Her wedding
ring glinted dully on one finger and she curled her hands into fists
as she moved swiftly.
Her long hair was unbound, a free waterfall of ebony that reached down
her back. She wore the clothes of a peasant but the material was
finer, colors brighter. She only lacked true jewelry but then, that
would impede her movement and Rhi, unlike her people, was a practical
woman. Growing up the daughter of a merchant and the wife of a noble
had taught her the expediancy of that.
She would be home soon, another week's travel, perhaps. Rhi's heart
soared at the thought. She had not her mother's magic, Fate had seen
to deny her that much, but she had enough to know where her people
were. They called to her, pulled her by her weary soul towards their
own. Slender fingers stroked the feather tied securely to her vest
and Rhi sighed as she leaned against a cool brick wall.
She looked up, into the night sky, and couldn't quite contain the
shiver that ran down her body as fat snowflakes fell from the
heavens. She'd need to either buy or steal a cloak before she went
into the mountains. Hopefully she wouldn't freeze before she found
her family.
