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"Black Dragon Rising" is a dark fantasy medieval romance.
ANNOUNCEMENT: My picture of Talen is now done and posted on my art page above. It took me weeks to do, so please go take a look and let me know what you think.
Chapter Four
I don't know how long I cling to Talen, but there's no doubt in my mind that the monsters will find a way across the chasm eventually. The more I delay, the more I put all of us in danger. I close my eyes and recall something my father told me once: "fear profits a man nothing."
"Are you all right?" Talen asks me.
I nod and reluctantly let go of him. He gives me one last kiss on the cheek. Then I retrieve my helmet and put it back on, sliding the visor out of the way. I can hear their screams, horrific and awful. It's followed by a thunderous shatter of bone and the splatter of torn flesh. I close my eyes to the terror, but my imagination shows me a scene of one ghul pressing into another with the resulting blob a thing best saved for nightmares. I suppose the war ghuls remind me of a sponge only in this case they absorb skin, sinew, and muscle. Their bones go to strengthen one spine. Their blood goes to fuel muscles that are now ten times as strong and directed by black magic to attach to limbs made from shattered femur, humerus, and ulna.
What kind of dark sorcery goes to create such a construct? And how does this affect those poor souls who rely upon their corpses to project an image for them to use in the afterlife? The defilement of the dead has to be one of the most despicable of crimes.
"It's sickening," Angelaria says. "My magic can't stop them directly, but I might be able to discourage them from following us."
"How?" Talen asks.
"I can blast this side of the ravine with ice," she says. "It'll make it almost impossible to get a handhold. If they insist on trying, they'll end up falling into the river below and hopefully get swept far from here."
"Do it," I say, "and we don't have much time so whatever you're gonna do, please do it fast."
Angelaria nods and pushes past me to where the boulder sits at my back. I kneel and form a step with my hands and help her to the top where she stands a moment staring at the chasm. The screams grow louder. Her appearance at the top of the boulder is like ringing the dinner bell.
Angelaria raises her hands to the sky and shouts "Hiemelus Castrum!" and her voice echoes off the walls.
For a few seconds, I see nothing. Then, a frigid blast of air sweeps into the ravine; it dries the sweat from my face and whips around Angelaria's body. Her shirt comes unseated from her leather pants, her illustrious brown hair floats about her shoulders as if suspended on the surface of an invisible river.
She points her right hand to the stone and ice flies from her fingertips. The magic coats it to a depth of at least an inch. Within moments, the walls on this side of the canyon reflect light from a slippery sheen. It spreads quickly, swallowing up everything. By the time the spell runs its course, the ravine on our side of the chasm is transformed into an eerie winter white.
Angelaria looks to see if I'm watching and then jumps; I catch her and set her gently on her feet. Fog drifts between her lips when she speaks.
"The ice will melt over several hours. But they'll find no hand hold for thirty feet up and down this side of the gorge. I doubt they can spread their bones far enough to find rock that isn't covered with ice in order to cross. When it eventually melts, we should be long gone."
Talen hugs her. "Thank you," he says.
I nod rapidly. "Yes...what he said. Thank you so much. That's twice you've saved us now."
"I'm not keeping score. And for the record, I haven't saved you yet," she says, "but I've given us a fighting chance." She gestures up the pathway to encourage us to get moving.
"Right," I say.
Talen takes lead, negotiating the narrow and perilous path between the high cliffs that press upon us on both sides. I take up the rear. Over the course of the day, the three of us scramble over several boulders blocking our path through to the other side. The fear we all share of the war ghuls puts a little extra energy into our steps, and we pretty much go all day long without taking a break. I suppose it's a good thing to place as much distance between the monsters and us. But all of this crawling and scaling of rock walls and huge boulders is extremely dirty work, and my armor gets positively caked with dust. I hand Angelaria some extra gloves from my backpack so she won't end up scraping any skin from those beautiful hands of hers.
At twilight, the ravine widens into a canyon, and I spot an old game trail winding its way farther into the peaks all around us. I'm so hungry; I know the others have to be feeling the same. Talen's face is a bit sullen and exhausted. I suppose we're all feeling it, but my boyfriend has a particularly expressive and animated face.
I take lead for a while, using up the last of the sunlight. Just before dark, I find a small cave. It even comes with a pile of dry wood. How perfect is that?
"Someone's used this as a shelter before," Talen remarks while I ready the fire pit.
"At least something's going our way today," I say. "I wish I had time to pack our tent this morning."
"Don't worry about it," he says, settling down so close to me that our thighs rub together. He puts his arm around me, and suddenly I don't feel as hungry anymore. Maybe Talen's love is all I need. "But if this place is used frequently enough to stock wood maybe that means a town is close."
"I never thought of that," I say. Talen's just brilliant. He always thinks of everything.
Angelaria starts a fire and it warms the cave within minutes. I rummage around in our packs and pull out the last of the food we have. I cut up the cheese while Angelaria boils the potatoes in a pot. I wonder where she's carrying all of this stuff because I never see her weighed down by it during the day.
Next morning, it's sunlight warming my cheek that pops my eyes open. Sometime during the night, Talen pulled me into his arms and held onto me like a body pillow. He's awake and looking at me. I try to say "good morning", but he kisses me, sliding his tongue between my lips. "Hello friend," he whispers. He touches my nose with his finger. "Today's going to be a great day."
"Why?" I ask.
"Because we're together. Any day where that's a possibility is great in my opinion."
I feel my cheeks getting hot as I blush, and the warmth travels down into my toes. It's then that I realize we both slept in our killsuits. I'm surprised that I'm not stiff. "These things are actually not bad to sleep in," I remark.
Talen shrugs. "I prefer sleeping out of them, but with the threat of the ghuls, I think it's probably best that we wear them to bed."
"Where do you think this canyon goes?" Angelaria asks. I realize she's sitting next to me.
"I'm not sure," Talen says. "I think it'll cross over to another like it. At some point, we'll have to see the river again. It's just a matter of time if what you say is true about rivers carving out places like this."
Honestly, what Talen says totally makes sense. I mean, if a river formed the canyon from rock, it probably did so when it was huge and flooded all of this that we're now sitting in. Again, Talen's a genius. I'm certain of that.
"And, if we find the river, we can find fish," Talen finishes. He smiles and I swear the gleam of all those gorgeous pearly whites could shame a shark.
I watch as Angelaria rolls up her bedroll, places it on a cloth, wraps the cloth around it, folds it several times, and then stuffs it in her belt.
I shake my head, staring at her to make sure I saw that right. Talen's just as surprised as me.
"What?" she responds.
"H-how did you do that?" I ask.
"Do what?"
Now she's playing at coy, but it's a game she's not very good at; I could show her a thing or two about being coy.
"I-I saw you stuff an entire bedroll and a pillow into some flat piece of cloth, then you folded it like a handkerchief and put it in your belt there." I even point at it so she can't make up a lie about it.
"It's a tablecloth my mother gave to me," she replies. "It's woven from the thread of mirror spiders."
I look to Talen hoping he can explain what a mirror spider is, but he shrugs helplessly. "What's a mirror spider?" I ask.
"You ever break a mirror?" she asks.
"Not that I recall," I say. "It's bad luck to break a mirror."
"Well there's a reason for that," Angelaria says. "When you break a mirror, it cracks outward to the edge of the frame. That's a web, and it attracts mirror spiders from a dimension that runs parallels to ours. In Mon Arcanos, we know how to trap them. Some of our best textiles are made from bolts of their silk, and the items all share one ability: they're bigger on the inside than they are on the outside."
"Fascinating," Talen says. Then he looks at me and jokes, "we should get your codpiece lined with some of that fabric. That way you could wear a normal-sized one and not attract so much attention."
I roll my eyes, and he playfully punches me in the shoulder.
"Seriously, though," he says, "It'd be nice to know that everyone doesn't instantly want to fuck my boyfriend because of the bulge they see in his pants."
"No one wants to instantly fuck me," I say.
"I beg to differ," Angelaria says. "I'm not getting in the middle of this, but Talen's right. You get stared at a lot...you're probably just used to it. But he's being wise to want you to attract less attention with that rockin' body of yours."
I sigh. Honestly...there's a part of me that rather likes the attention. However, I don't dare say that. I don't want to come across as vain.
We set out across the dry brush and smooth rocks that make up the floor of the canyon, and by late morning I notice the greenery getting thick and lush. The rocks beneath our boots turn to moist earth. Before long, the three of us crest a hill and see a beautiful valley filled with pine, birch, and aspen trees all in full autumn color. Everywhere I look brilliant gold and red flashes in the sunlight. The valley stretches for leagues; gray clouds roll over the mountains on the far side. Stretches of pure white snow gleam brightly from the slopes. The air's chilly, like that of a brisk fall day, and it smells clean and dry.
Angelaria raises her eyes to the sky. "We shall have snow before nightfall. We should all dress warmly."
Talen and I look at each other and begin to wordlessly search our packs for the extra clothes we bought in Varkir, shoving our heads through wool pull-overs and sweaters that are intentionally big, but tight when factoring in the armor we're wearing. Afterward, we replace the helmets on our heads. I think my cloak will keep the chill from my back fairly well. That being said, the armor's pretty well insulated, but I don't know how well it'll do against prolonged environmental cold. On the short term, it did protect me against the supernatural cold exuded from Kahket's pet demon, Ravidan Scalebane. But I have a question: are supernatural and magical cold the same thing as regular cold?
Angelaria pulls out a splendid brown cloak with a lining of ermine and shiny red buttons. She dons this proudly and waits for us to finish (which isn't long). Once we're ready, I move out front and take a path that wends its way into the valley skirting the edge of the trees. The stunning woods stand in solemn silence just a little to my right. They're rooted amidst a thicket of oats, Indian paintbrushes, and wild rose bushes. After another half league, the trail turns and broadens to meander lazily through groves I assume have stood for centuries. All of their trunks are covered with emerald moss on the south side. From somewhere ahead of me, I hear the gurgling of a stream, and I hasten my pace. A moment later we emerge from under low hanging branches to see an old wooden bridge. Still in excellent repair, it spans a brook that's about fifteen feet wide. I follow its route with my eyes and marvel at its many twists and turns. The banks are thick with ankle high grass bursting with flora of every hue and color. I stare into the waters beneath the bridge and spot trout by the hundreds, some of them as long as my arm.
"Tethyr's teeth," I say, sucking on my lower lip. The reflection of the sunlight plays along Talen's face. "Those look so delicious."
Talen throws his pack down on the bridge. "May I have that sewing needle you were so coy about yesterday?" he asks Angelaria.
"I suppose, but you clean what you catch," she says. Then she searches in her pack and produces one, yanking it from a multicolored velvet cushion. "Here, I can spare this."
Talen takes it from her and fashions a hook from it rather easily. Meanwhile, I overturn rocks near the bank, looking for insects. I find one...a horrifying little fellow really. It has long antennae and bulbous eyes protruding from each side.
Talen's an excellent fisherman. Within a few minutes he's caught our first fish. He calls it a brown trout and I waste no time cleaning it. I also cut a piece of it off to use as bait. Talen catches four more this way, which is more than enough for all of us to eat.
Angelaria builds a small cooking fire on the other side of the stream by digging a hole to help conceal it and keep the fire contained. She produces a small pan to fry them in. I wonder what all else she has wrapped in bundles of mirror spider silk. I take off my gauntlets, mostly because my mom taught me to never eat with gloves on. I burn my fingers trying to eat the blasted things but it's so tasty that after a few seconds, I don't even care. There's something absolutely grand about eating a fresh fish as opposed to one that's been dead for several hours.
We spend the afternoon resting by the brook, staring up into the sky, and watching the clouds roll in.
"Who do you suppose built the bridge?" I ask, feeling particularly full. Talen insists that I lay my head on his chest, so I'm using his side and the crook of his right armpit as a pillow. He occasionally feeds me little nibbles of cold fish with his fingers, and I lick up the grease on his hands. It makes him giggle.
"I've been thinking on that," Angelaria says. "It seems rather odd that there'd be a bridge in an area this remote."
"I agree," Talen says. I feel his hands roam the length of my killsuit and before long his fingers are thrumming on the outside of my codpiece. I know he's randy as hell, but this is just an afternoon break so I play like I don't notice. "But I don't know much about this part of the world," he states when he gets no response from me.
After a minute though, I kiss him on the chin and just whisper, "Later."
He just squeezes me in a tight hug and I feel his tongue on my ear, licking my sweat up as if it were sweet honey.
"It's quite an endeavor to build a bridge," Angelaria indicates. Most bridges are built to serve cities or towns. Outside of that, bridges are built by governments or military units. The Valion knights could have erected it long ago. The path itself shows disuse so I know it isn't a recent construction. I think if we travel long enough on the road, we'll run into some more signs, or maybe even a town."
"For the record, I said that earlier," Talen declares, and then he starts on my other ear.
"Perhaps a trading post," I offer, trying not to turn my head because what he's doing feels really good. "Fur trapping's big business here in the mountains, right?"
"I'm not sure," she says, plucking some grass. "Have you seen any otters, beavers, or other animals that have fur?" she asks. She pauses a moment to look at us. "We should get moving. I don't want to tarry here to find out if our friends managed to find a way across the chasm."
Her words put a chill in my veins and brings an end to the casual 'making out' that Talen and I were doing. The three of us take a quick wash in the brook. I replenish my waterskin and slide my gauntlets and helmet back on. The road ahead is broad enough that the three of us can walk it side by side as it winds its way through the old growth. Far above the trees, the sky continually darkens and the wind picks up. It rattles the aspen and birch trees, showering us in red and gold leaves, and the scents of fall.
At dusk we set up camp, exhausted by our trek through the thin mountain air.
"I think we should take turns on watch," Talen declares. "I'll take the first and Kian can take second. You seem more like the morning person, Angelaria. Would you like to take the last?"
She smiles. "I don't see a problem with that. Besides, I need to record a few things in my journal."
"It must be a marvelous thing," I say, rubbing my tongue ring on the top of my mouth.
"What?" Angelaria replies.
"To be able to write. To set down your thoughts onto paper. That must be a marvelous thing."
"It is," she agrees. "It's so much a part of what I do that I don't really think twice about what it'd be like without it. How is it that you're illiterate?"
"My father was killed when I was young. I spent most of my childhood doing other things. Reading and writing wasn't a priority."
"Oh," she says quietly. "In my country, every boy and girl knows how to read fluently by the time they're ten. A man your age would know three languages by now."
"How many do you know?"
"Hmm. About eight, I think. Of course, Sulasian is what most people speak."
"I don't know how to speak it," I say.
"You're talking Sulasian right now." She pauses, observing my surprise. "I can see that you're puzzled so I'll try to explain. About ten thousand years ago, Thularum was the seat of power. It was a huge empire that covered the known world. There were many kingdoms that made up the empire. Dun Partem in the north, Noremost, Nykor, Sulasia, the Mystic East, Aka Nadel, Stornshoal, and Asanibyss. These kingdoms were huge, made up of six or seven principalities.
"Anyway, Thularum was the seat of power for several thousand years. They were a military state relying upon their infantry of cyclotitans to keep the other states in line. It worked for a number of years. No outside force was large enough to oppose Thularum even when our seers and mages of Mon Arcanos discovered that there were in fact, other continents. In the years before the great cataclysm, a new line of emperors starting with Theren the Golden started emphasizing athletics. Sulasians, which made up about forty percent of the ruling class, were ousted and shunned by the senators of Mon Camaralzaman.
"Over the course of centuries, a war between the ruling class of the empire swamped everyday life with chaos. They levied terrible sanctions upon the educated to encourage a hatred of books and the people who collect them. Civil war was declared and the empire went up in flames. The wizards of Mon Arcanos conspired together in a spell of awesome power, but at the last moment, a component was misplaced, a word was uttered incorrectly--the record books are not specific on exactly what happened. There was an explosion of vast energy and the land to the south of the Sea of Magic was burnt to ash and remains a desert to this day. Devastating earthquakes rocked the coast and a fault line was torn open between Thularum and Sulasia. Entire cities were swallowed by the earth in perhaps the greatest destruction ever witnessed by man.
"The kingdom of Atlantea itself got destroyed. It now lies on the bottom of the Sea of Rwn. The oceans rushed in over boiling magma. The gods themselves were forced to intervene to save the world from its own destruction. Milbar commanded that no spells should ever be cast within the confines of Mon Arcanos, and it has been thus to this very day. As for Thularum, well they were almost completely destroyed by the civil war. Nykor and Noremost broke away and became empires of their own. Most of the educated in Sulasia, took pilgrimages to the far away and shattered lands to bring knowledge to the masses. They took their language and commerce with them. Now, Sulasia is the most powerful empire in the world, and its strength and stability have affected all things."
I look at my hands. Now I know what caused the quakes that destroyed my ancestral home.
"That's a fascinating story," Talen says. He's dug out a fire pit, and is now employing a tinderbox to bring it to life. A moment later, a trail of smoke circles lazily upward; the unmistakable crackle of fire soon follows. Talen watches it in solemn silence, occasionally blowing on the flames and then adding slightly larger pieces of wood until we've a good-sized fire burning.
I curl up, using my cloak as a blanket. Talen rolls up his own and places it under my head as a makeshift pillow. Then he goes to stand in silence at the edge of camp, eyes searching out the night that's now blazing with stars. I fall asleep thinking about the distant shores of Sulasia.
Sometime after midnight, Talen wakes me. The fire's still burning brightly. Angelaria's curled up next to me. "It's your shift," he says.
I nod, pulling myself out into the cold night. A gentle snow is falling and the flakes have left the ground covered in fine white powder. Talen crawls into my spot and pulls my cloak over himself.
I take a seat next to the fire and watch the flakes come down. I catch some of them...beautiful and delicate things really, and they melt almost immediately on the palm of my hand. The first few hours are uneventful. However, during the third hour of my shift, I see something that takes my breath away.
At first I think the ghuls have found us again. But the shadow that approaches out of the snowy wood is more animal-like. It walks up on padded feet, with a canine head, bent low, watching me with gorgeous blue eyes. This isn't Tethyr, but an honest to god winter wolf with fur that's snowy white and gray in places. I hold my breath, hoping not to spook it.
It stands perfectly still, just barely at the perimeter of the firelight, its blue eyes fixed on mine, its tongue hanging loose between the canines of its open mouth. It's a magnificent animal, as large as a small pony. I also see that it's male, for it has a large furry sheath and a pair of balls the size of tangerines dangling between its rear legs.
Am I hallucinating? I rise to my feet, and the thing steps back into the shadows, withdrawing. Did I just see Thomas? The god of the Valion knights? I don't know, but I decide not to mention what I saw just in case it is him. What does he want with me? But with no apparent answers, I end up pondering that question long after my shift has ended.
In the morning, Angelaria wakes Talen and I with the scent of cooking. "I killed a rabbit earlier this morning," she says. "It'll give us a break from eating all this fish. That and I gathered some frost berries." I think about asking her how she caught the rabbit. But I know she probably won't tell me, seeing as getting her to talk about mirror spider silk seemed harder than pulling teeth.
To my chagrin, the snow's coming down much quicker now. My killsuit takes the bite out of the cold, but it's definitely not to the same extent as the supernatural cold I felt back in Soulwarden. So that's an answer to my question, I suppose. One good thing about the morning is that there's no wind.
"Did you see anything?" Talen asks me.
"No," I lie not wanting to mention the wolf. "It was quiet all night."
I walk off to do my morning routine. The woods have transformed in just a matter of hours. Everything looks so different now coated in white dust and ice.
We set off from our camp site, kicking snow in and around the fire. I watch it plume and gasp for life. I walk on the left, keeping an eye on the woods, wondering if I've just imagined the white wolf there last night. Part of me wants this to be true. I'm not sure how I feel about the white wolf. In some aspects, I recall the dreams I've had where I'm breeding Talen under a full moon in the forest, and something watches us with lascivious intent from beyond the edge of darkness.
Sometime after noon, all three of us hear a scream ring out over the valley. I know one thing: no human throat could produce such a sound. We freeze in our tracks, looking at each other with the stillness of death, yet nothing more follows save the sound of falling snow.
"What the hell was that?!" Talen asks.
"I don't know," Angelaria says, peering into the woods. "Whatever made it, I guarantee it's nothing like us."
"What could make that noise?" I ask, all the while searching my mind for a way to describe it. "It was deep, powerful, almost desperate."
After a moment more, the three of us quicken our pace.
The snow abates sometime in the late afternoon. It's difficult for me to judge time now that the skies have gone gray. However, to my relief we do not hear the scream again, nor do we come across the thing that made it. We walk until twilight, up the slopes at the other end of the valley. The trees around us, branches bent low with wet heavy snow, occasionally dump their load on the ground with loud startling plops. My feet and legs are wet with my sweat. It feels clammy on the inside of my armor, and I'm so tired that when I do finally rest, I surmise I'll drop unconscious for at least a couple of days.
Just before dusk, we stumble across a small town. I stop at the edge of it, examining the cloister of brown wooden buildings and log houses. From somewhere ahead comes the sound of a door banging in the wind...or perhaps it's a shutter. The streets are filled with untainted virgin snow. There aren't even footprints; it looks deserted, dead to the world.
We walk toward the nearest building. It's a barn, I think, with solid wooden doors and windows of unbroken yet dirty glass. Talen and Angelaria fan out to investigate the neighboring structures. We keep in touch through whistles as Angelaria doesn't have one of our helmets. I pause before the entrance of the barn. It's a mammoth building, and creates a misshapen silhouette by the light of the rising moon. As I approach, it makes me feel small and insignificant in its shadow. I reach out for the handles and pull the doors aside to stand at the threshold of darkness.
There are webs here, long and gossamer like. They drift lazily in the breath created by the opening door. Straw lays frozen to the ground along with icy buckets, hammers, and old saddles. Yet the whole place smells of putrescence...of death. Despite the cold, flies swarm thick over wooden posts and rafters, and there's the unmistakable odor of rotting meat.
Against my better judgment, I step into the barn, visor up, and holding my hand out in front of me to brush the webs from my face. One by one, I look into the dark stalls. I find the remains of horses, their empty eye sockets and wormy hides crawling and bulging with millions of maggots.
I bolt out of the barn, holding my stomach, and throw up in the snow.
Talen races out from another building, "What's wrong?"
I point at the barn behind me. He opens the doors and stands there a moment, staring into the dark. "The place stinks," he says.
"I wanted to see if it was human," I reply, wiping my mouth.
"Was it?" Talen asks.
"No."
Talen grimaces. "The town's deserted, Kian. They left in a hurry. There's plates with food still on 'em for Pete's sake." Then he grabs me by the arm and hauls me to my feet. I wipe the snow off of my legs and cloak. "Come on. Let's get in where it's warm. We'll figure all this out tomorrow."
I can't help but think that we shouldn't stop here...that something evil's befallen this town. Before I can voice my opinion, however, the wind howls and stifles my voice in my throat. It brings with it a blizzard from the mountains and the unsettling feeling that if I fall asleep here, I may never leave this place.
Here ends Chapter Four. I shall publish Chapter Five next week. Please be sure to stop by my art page on my website and look at the full color picture of Talen I posted this Sunday. I think he's stunning of course, but I drew it :).