Shadows of the Realm (The Circle of Talia) (13 page)

Light started to seep from the horizon, slowly creeping through the darkness toward them, encompassing all in it
s path. The swollen river of light gathered speed as it approached. They felt overwhelming dread as it washed closer. They didn’t know what to expect when it reached them and felt awe at what they could see in its wake. Rolling green hills stretched out behind the wave, azure sky above. The clarity of light was amazing—the most pure light imaginable. Blayke expected to be burnt when it reached them. Soon they were enveloped in the swell of light. The brilliance swirled around, above, beneath them, blinding the human and rodent.

No sooner than breaking over them, the wave washed past, leaving two vulnerable figures swaying, trying to regain their balance. Blayke felt different, and it took him a few moments to realise why. A heightened sense of smell overwhelmed him, and his viewpoint had changed. The hills in the distance had become mountains; the grass he had crush
ed beneath his feet moments ago was now chest high. He sat back on his haunches and looked down at himself. He looked incredulously at the dark brown fur that covered his body. He touched it with his small paw. His beady hazel eyes widened as this new reality dawned on him. He slowly shook his little pointed head. He remembered Fang and turned to meet his friend eye to eye. Fang’s whiskers twitched in a cunning smile and Blayke understood every high-pitched squeak when he spoke. “Welcome to my world, Blayke.”

13

The small village of Aspurle clung doggedly to the terraced cliff, which overlooked Blaggard’s Bay. This was the most southwesterly port of Talia. A normally quiet locale where the men were fishermen, the women hard-working wives who mended the men’s nets and pickled their catches.  Nothing much happened, save the occasional wild storm claiming a boat or two. The nearest village was one week’s sail to the north. The children lived an untamed existence, with sun-bleached hair, tanned skin and usually spent their days swimming in the bay or exploring the dangerous cliff faces and caves.

Irving was a happy, likable boy. He was exploring one of the caves a half-day
’s walk from home with Jeddy, another ten-year-old from Aspurle. The boys had grown up together and were practically brothers. The sea was too rough to swim today, so they had decided to continue an ongoing exploration of their surroundings. They had discovered the mouth of this cave some two months earlier, but until now, had not had a chance to map its tunnels and crawl spaces.

They entered the cave mouth with the anticipation that always preceded any new expedition. Each day brought the possibility of some important and long-awaited discovery. In the dry cave mouth, the sounds of the tumultuous ocean breaking on the rocks far below, and howling wind whipping up the seas, became a distant roar. 

Irving assumed the lead, seeing as how he had discovered the cave. He strode confidently, leading Jeddy across the wide entrance cavern toward a tunnel, which veered off to the left. The first cavern was as tall as a full-grown man and half again. The tunnel leading from the entry, into which the boys now walked, was barely tall enough for them to stand upright. Indeed, in some sections, they were forced to stoop like old, arthritic men. The candles Irving had brought flickered uncertainly, throwing menacing shadows on the walls and low ceiling. The boys hummed a happy tune as they walked; the self-made music lessening their fear of the unknown.

The tunnel ran past various caverns that loomed either side, dark spaces impossible to see into, reminding Irving of the gap-toothed grin on his grandmother
’s face when he found her dead, face up, in her bed. He had loved his grandmother but had never been able to erase the image of a year ago. His mother had sent him to fetch Grammy for breakfast, but she had not been in any state to eat it. He shivered at the memory.

As they shuffled carefully, the tunnel sloped almost unnoticeably downward. Irving felt a growing need to walk faster. The passage had widened and the boys were again comfortably upright.
“I’m going to go faster. Keep up ‘cause I won’t wait.”

“
K.” Jeddy didn’t need to be told to walk faster. He was growing more uncomfortable by the second, and there was no way he wanted to be left by himself. Their candles flickered more erratically with their increased speed, and whilst Jeddy feared they would be extinguished, his companion seemed not to notice, or care.

After travelling for what Irving estimated was about half an hour, a grotto opened up to the right of the tunnel. Irving motioned for his companion to stop. Neither boy wanted to speak and draw attention to themselves. The boys would be the last to admit they were scared, especially when they knew it unlikely that anyone else would be in there with them. Instead of looking at a black expanse, the boys could see inside this cavern. A small shaft of light cut through a crack in the rocks far above. Irving thrust his candle inside the space to get a better look. It seemed dry and boring, just like the rest of the cave had been so far. He tentatively stepped in, the candlelight barely touching the ceiling.

The shaft of light caught his eye. He followed the line of light toward a sparkling rock, which sat directly in front of where he had entered the cave. Instead of the light falling on the rock, it appeared to be coming from the rock and heading to the ceiling. This anomaly interested Irving. He was not going anywhere until he had investigated.

Jeddy stayed at the mouth of the grotto, clenching his sweaty hands together, quietly watching his friend.
“I think we should go. It feels wrong.”

“
Don’t be silly. You’re just a scared little baby. If you want to go back, be my guest, but you won’t be able to share any treasure I find. Look at the beautiful light, it’s coming from the rock over there.” Irving turned back to the shaft of light.

Jeddy looked, but the light didn
’t look beautiful to him. The light was a sickly yellow, which oozed against gravity toward the rocky surface above. 

He denied his fear.
“I’m not scared! OK, I’ll stay. It still feels wrong, though.” Jeddy let his voice trail off into the silence.

Irving had already forgotten his friend. His transfixed eyes followed the pallid luminosity to its origin behind the rock. The urge to reach the light had taken hold of him. He hurriedly climbed over the rock, scraping his knees and dripping hot wax on his hand, all of which went unfelt.

Jeddy could still see his friend from the waist up. He had stopped and was looking down at his feet. “I’ve found something.” He bent down and Jeddy lost sight of him. 

Irving knelt on the hard, rock floor, mouth agape and whispered, “Wow.” He hesitated before gently picking up the object and cradling it in his thin arms.

Jeddy suddenly felt cold and hugged his arms around himself. “Irving? Are you OK? What is it?” 

Irving stood and turned to look at his friend. 
“Look what I found. Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” Irving, in his rapture, didn’t see the look on his friend’s face for what it was. Absolute terror. 

The young boy
was holding the skull of a long-dead creature, one that almost no one on Talia would recognise today. The large skull was at least two metres long. It was from an infant of a long-disappeared species. The diseased glow leached from two diamond shaped eye sockets and a wide, sharp-toothed maw that Jeddy noticed had not one, but two rows of teeth. It reminded him of the sharks his father sometimes caught. Dry, leathery skin flaked off bone as Irving softly caressed the repulsive specimen. Sharp barbs cut deep into his hands, drawing blood.

As Jeddy watched, horribly paralysed by the sight, the oozing light redirected itself and surrounded Irving. The light dribbled over the young, innocent boy, crawling into every orifice, pervading his body. Eventually the light ceased its slithering invasion, now encasing the boy. The skull disintegrated into dust, and Irving stood transformed.

Jeddy screamed. Time moved slowly; it felt like an eternity in which he was paralysed in the presence of pure evil. He stopped screaming and ran.

Irving
’s newly yellow eye sockets emanated a palpable malevolence. Irving, as his mother and friends had known him, was no longer there.  What used to be Irving looked around the now dark cave. It could see in the dark and didn’t need light; in fact, light rendered it almost blind. It grinned, smelling the fear from the retreating human child. It was happy to know a feed was imminent. The alien creature ordered its newly acquired, short, human legs to move, and ran after Jeddy.

Jeddy was running as fast as he could without light. The candle clenched in his fist had gone out. He was breathing hard, his nostrils burning with damp, musty cave air. He had no idea where the creature— for he didn
’t consider it to be his friend anymore—was. That thought made him retreat faster. All too soon the passage narrowed. Where he should have bent down, he instead slammed his head on the rough surface. The boy slumped to the floor in a moment of stupefaction. Unfortunately for him, he was only momentarily unconscious. 

Jeddy opened his eyes
and in the darkness saw nothing. He opened his eyes wider in a futile attempt to see. He couldn’t hear anything over his own ragged breathing. Suddenly, overpoweringly, a putrid odour slithered into his nostrils. He scrambled on all fours in an attempt to get away from the evil he knew was coming. He could hear the creature’s footsteps alter from a staccato run to a slow walk. It was only steps away. Jeddy scraped hands and knees in a desperate retreat, but the tears streaming down his face were those of fear, not pain.

Jeddy knew that whatever controlled his friend was pure malevolence.  He knew he was going to die. Jeddy tried not to cry, but he was only a boy. Sallow, yellow luminescence washed over him from behind, until it was lighting the way in front of him. He couldn’t crawl fast enough. Jeddy sprang to his feet. As he did so, the creature tackled him from behind. When they slammed to the floor, sharp pain shot up Jeddy
’s arm. He looked at it. Broken bone protruded into the tainted light, midway from wrist to elbow. Nevertheless he continued to struggle, but the small, possessed body on top of him had an unnatural strength. He couldn’t break free.

The creature from the Third Realm turned Jeddy over and stared hungrily into his terrified eyes, happily licking the tears from the boy
’s face. Bile bubbled up to Jeddy’s mouth and putrid air invaded his lungs.

He looked despairingly into yellow eyes, hoping against reality that Irving was in there somewhere. The alien’s cold orbs stared back. They held no sympathy, no warmth,
only cruel death. The parasite that had been his best friend ripped off Jeddy’s shirt. Whilst pinning him down with one unbelievably strong arm, it sniffed his torso. Jeddy felt warm saliva drip onto his skin. He wriggled in one last attempt to escape his fate. The young boy watched in dread as the creature opened its mouth and tore a large chunk out of his stomach. He vomited as pain consumed his body. He said a last goodbye to his mother and father and begged the gods to protect his soul.

The raspy laughter, which left Irving
’s body through bloody lips, had clawed its way up from The Third Realm. It was the last sound Jeddy heard, apart from his own screams, as he was eaten alive.

The creature fed, then waited. It was the first of the colony; the others would be here soon. His mind linked to the others, and he felt their joy at his hunt. He curled his newly acquired human body into a ball and slept. Tonight he would loose himself on the world, what an honour to be the first. He would have his pick of the humans, and knew he would be the catalyst for the fear of millions, once rumours spread. He rasped another laugh. When he slept, he dreamed of the bloody atrocities he would enjoy.

***

What The Circle had feared and anticipated had begun. Agmunsten sensed a new evil on Talia and wept, for he knew what it signified. He said a prayer for whoever had died to facilitate the arrival of the Gormons. He prayed for Talia too; he knew their preparations were incomplete and they needed more time. Agmunsten wondered how the most powerful realmist on earth could feel as helpless as the smallest mouse. He shook his head and grabbed a bottle of his best brandy. Peaceful oblivion couldn’t come soon enough.

14

Muted, midday light intruded through Agmunsten’s eyelids. He gingerly opened his eyes, managing only a tight squint. Light found its way through his eyelashes and the small slits he had created, which was enough to accentuate his alcohol-induced headache. He had drunk himself into unconsciousness and found he was still slumped in his chair. He remembered the reason for his inebriation and was tempted to reach for another bottle. 

The aches and pains in his stiff back were relatively minor to the queasy feeling rumbling around what was left of his stomach. He would have shaken his head at his youth-like stupidity, but was wary of making any sudden movements.

Focusing his will inward, pushing through the headache, he mentally called his apprentice. Within minutes a young boy appeared carrying a tray. Mouth-watering aromas of fresh-baked bread, greasy bacon, and fried eggs filled Agmunsten’s nose, and even though he felt queasy, his stomach managed a grumble.

Arie was only twelve but had seen enough of the world to know his master had drunk too much, yet again. He shivered in the chill, a result of the fire having died hours ago.
“It’s cold in here, although I wouldn’t want to light the fire again.”

“
Why would that be, lad?” Agmunsten mumbled through a mouthful of bacon.

“
The fumes coming out of your body might cause an explosion.” He laughed at the scowl he received in reply. Instead of tending the fire, Arie opened the large, arched window next to an ornately carved timber bed, unoccupied the previous night, the white covers unwrinkled. A steady, cool breeze streamed into the room, pushing out the boozy odour.

“
Arie, prepare our belongings. We’re going on a trip.” His apprentice nodded and left the room to gather what they would need.  Agmunsten felt better with every oily bite. He finished his breakfast, or was it lunch, and went to the bath house to clean up.

By late afternoon, the master and his young apprentice were eating an early, hot dinner. Agmunsten felt restless and didn
’t want to spend another night at the Realmist Academy for Superior Learning. He helped run the Academy, however there were times, such as now, he left it to others. From time to time he had other pressing matters to deal with, as only the most experienced of all the realmists could have. This threat to their world, and indeed ultimately to other worlds, was definitely what he would classify as a pressing matter—or maybe depressing. He smiled in spite of himself. He felt it was always important to maintain a sense of humour, not that others always appreciated what he found amusing.