CIRCLE OF SHADOWS Part 1: Shadow Chaser

Dark billowing clouds scuttle swiftly over the horizon, approaching a lonely stretch of golden beach naturally curved to create a secluded bay ringed by dark ridges of sharp rocks and sheer cliffs. The storm gathers more strength from the moist air trapped over the warm ocean, strong winds growing fiercer with every passing second. Peals of thunder roll through the darkness, booms and grumbles from within dark clouds sporadically lighted by brilliant flashes of lightning arching to their ends into the water roiling below. A lone boat, hammered relentlessly by wave after wave of rain drifts aimlessly in the churning currents of the darkened sea, white sails hanging tattered and torn, sagging limply from the last remaining mast. Tendrils of cloth and frayed rope flap wildly in the gusts whipping around the ship, the damage wreaked illuminated intermittently by the flashes of light. A few pieces of whole sheets of sail hang completely useless in the strengthening wind as stronger gusts rip and swirl, lifting the frothy white edges of the roiling waves into the air and dispersing it into a fine mist across the wooden bow of the ship. Large waves pommel and pound against the dark wooden hull as the swell lifts higher, smaller waves lapping endlessly against the wooden bow. The occasional larger wave reaching up and crashing over the hull, bouncing and splashing over the ship as it wastes energy trying to envelope the boat, its frothy remnants cascading over the deck and spilling over the other side of the small boat back into the ocean. Endlessly struggling to pull the floundering vessel down into the depths to bury it in the murky deep below, the waves continue their relentless pounding. Rope and tight lines whip dangerously through the air, whipping through sea spray thrown up by the wind their sharp edges and ends slash planks and railings, gouging deep red scars into the water softened wood. Barrels and boxes still lashed together roll and bounce aimlessly across the small deck, sliding back and forth to the rhythm of the oceans’ unchanging swells as a single remaining signal lantern swings on a hook next to a small doorway the flame long dead and cold, wick sodden and the small brass oil reserve cracked and almost empty.

Thud! Thud! Slosh!

Banging loudly against the wooden frame the lantern splashes the last bit of oil, streaks running glistening with rainbow hues down the dark wood. Lighting cracks close-by, the brilliant flash glinting maliciously on the golden metal of the lantern as thunder rolls deafeningly overhead. Loose planking rattle throughout the boat as the vibrations shake the ship and the air around it.

In the silence following the last thunder a twin sound echoes from further ahead, the continuously rising and falling crescendo of cascading water accompanied by a loud sucking sound. Dark shapes peek out through the water, jagged outcrops of black rock clustered together exposed to view with each receding wave. The boat floats slowly towards the clumps of rock, each growing swell pushing it towards the sharp edges waiting. Waves crash against cliff’s further ahead, water running glistening across dark rocks as the waves retreat. White froth boiling between the rock formations the ship pushes closer towards the golden sand. A loud scream ripples through the air as the battered hull scrapes harshly over the black spears standing upright in the water. Load cracks reverberate through the air as the boat grinds to a slow crawl, its wooden joints and planed wood shuddering violently as the rock edges cut deeply into the sodden wood the force of the waves pushing the ship forwards. Lodging on a rock point the prow of the ship swings around, large waves careening into the twisted hull from behind and the swell lifts the boat up and over the rocks. Another hard slam of the waves tilts the boat over, the wave pushing and prodding the floundering vessel inexorably towards the golden stretch of sand ahead. Wave after wave pushes and pulls in fury, tilting the already slanting boat further and further, the battered ship teetering on the edge of complete capsizing. The ship settles onto the soft sand, groaning loudly as the last wave laps at the edges of the tiller. The heavy wood sinking into the soft sand and wedging deeply as the last wave retreats, sucking fiercely at the embedded wooden beam as it runs past, entrenching the vessel deeper and deeper into the soft sand. Lightning cracks overhead and blasts the side of a cliff in the distance, thunderclaps and dark clouds roll over the beach and its silent, sodden occupant as fat goblets of rain pour down from above, drenching the beach and the small boat. Rivulets spring up and streams across the sand flowing sinuous paths towards the ocean. Dark pathways shimmering over the golden landscape as the remaining flashes of lighting flash overhead. Giving a final shudder the small boat lists sideways as it rolls onto its side, settling the bruised hull onto the soft sand. A battle won as the waves slowly retreat and pull back into the deep, reluctantly relinquishing their hold on the small vessel. Dark-grey clouds shower their last remnants of moisture onto the earth below as they scuttle past, fierce winds pushing them inland from the ocean. The noise dies down and a solemn silence encapsulates the beach as the last bursts of rain moves inland. The drenched remains of the battered ship, the dripping hull listing awkwardly to the side on the golden sand.

A sliver of silver peeks through the last vestiges of clouds remaining in the sky and after a few moments a full face shines brightly down. The intense moonlight cast across the landscape illuminates a lone figure quietly walking across the golden beach, slow steady steps taking it further away from the broken husk of wood beached at the water’s edge. Shoulder length brown hair hangs loosely over a broad back, glinting black liquid in the moon’s glow. A tattered cloak hangs over his back and the light breeze whips the edges up behind him as he walks across the sand. Sidestepping a half exposed rock as he leaps weakly over a large piece of flotsam lying across his path the figure moves doggedly through the soft sand towards the cliffs enclosing the secluded bay. Limping steps brings the man to the foot of a cliff several feet high and after investigating the rock edge, searching for natural handholds jutting out from the black rock he begins to climb upwards. Hand over foot he inches upwards at a steady pace, closer and closer to the top of the cliff. A few feet at a time he ascends the steep twenty foot wall, groping blindly around him before pulling his weight up along the rock, feeling in the darkness for suitable grips as he continues to lever himself slowly upwards before placing one foot at a time on a small ledge or rocky outcrop. Reaching up, he grips a clump of bushes tightly and pulls himself over the lip, legs dangling tiredly in mid air before he rolls over, resting on his back as he looks into the clear sky at sparkling stars shimmering brightly in the dark void.

Sitting up he looks around him. Waves crash noisily on the beach below him, breaking against the rocks and soft sand, the faint outline of the beached ship a dark blotch against the golden sand. Grunting he gets to his feet as a wave of tiredness overwhelms him, his arms and legs aching from the long climb up the cliff. Turning in a tight circle he looks out into the darkness, stopping as he notices a pinprick of light shining in the distance. The faint light flickers, on and off, as he stares at it. Frowning he rubs his shoulder as he turns back towards the ocean, forehead wrinkling as he stares at the dark hull. Dark hair falls across his face and he flicks the annoying strand away. His fingertips lift tenderly to touch a bruise on the side of his head and he gasps in surprise at the pain lancing down his face. Grimacing he closes his eyes, mumbles unintelligibly as he rubs the sand from his face and bends over to dust off the worst sand still clinging to his moist clothes. A leather band wrapped around his wrist draws his eyes and he fingers it lightly as he looks at it. Shrugging he pulls it off his arm, drops his head back and pulls the long hair back, tying the loose strands into a tail with the piece of leather in his hand. A smile flashes across his face, bright blue eyes flashing animatedly beneath the thick eyebrows set over his eyes. Wiping at his ridged nose jutting fiercely from a broad coppery face he runs his hands gently down his face the feeling of coarse stubble scratching his palm. Yawning he stretches his arms before dropping them limply to his side.

‘Aaahhh!’

Giving a final slap against his wet cloak he plops down unto the rocky bluff, adjusting the collar feeling tight around his neck as he inspects the state of his clothes. His hand brushes against a leather thong hanging loosely around his neck. Deft fingers lift the thong away and a small stone necklace pops out from under his shirt, spinning tantalisingly as he holds it up to his eyes. A warm tingle trickles up his neck, hair lifting as a shudder ripples through his spine. Dropping the stone, he shrugs, a feeling of disconnection and loss pounding at his temples.

‘Now where am I?’ He thinks to himself, a soft thought popping unbidden into his mind right behind his own thoughts.

’Who am I?’ flitting out of reach before he realises it was there. Sitting quietly for a few minutes staring confusedly at the moon hanging above the constantly moving ocean, he takes off his boots and shakes them out against the ground next to him, golden sand spilling out in a small heap onto the ground. The sea breeze lifts the sand and spirals it out into the sky, the whorls of dust forming patterns triggering more thoughts as he watches it flow through the air.

Stretching languorously, joints popping and muscles creaking tightly, he looks at the ship again, a deep frown wrinkling across his face as he ponders the silent ship. The frown fades as he gets nimbly to his feet. Adjusting the belt around his waist he pauses as a soft jangle of metal in a small leather pouch hanging from it suddenly fills the silence.

Clink! Ce-clink-clink!

The tinkling sound intrigues him and he reaches down timidly, unfastens the pouch and tips it over into his hand. Glinting yellows and shining silvers tinkle into his exposed palm, the strange round disks triggers a tug within his mind.

‘Important. These are important,’ murmuring softly he tips the coins back into the pouch, retying the drawstrings tightly around the tick leather belt. ‘Why?’ Pulling his dirty blue shirt straight he slaps at the last clinging sand stuck to his charcoal coloured pants before turning around to looks in the direction of the light seen flickering on the horizon.

Moonlight illuminates the faint outlines of a mostly unused path running down the hill and shrugging his shoulders he steps down and begins to follow it. ‘Just what I need now,’ he thinks merrily to himself. ‘A warm bath, a shave and then some hot food with a something to drink. Then I can try and figure out just where here is!’ A whisper forces through his mind merging with his own thoughts before fading away.

‘Who am I?’

Whistling a tune, a song which name he fails to recall, he walks down the hill amazed at the area surrounding the crooked path. Rocks of all sizes and shapes lie scattered around the ridge, haphazardly strewn big chunks of dark stone jutting out of the sandy hillside.

‘Odd!’ he mutters under his breath. ‘Doesn’t look like anything’s growing here... nothing but rocks and sand.’

Stepping lightly over the scattered stones, the small path levelling out as he reaches the bottom of the ridge, his eyes flit between the moon-lit shapes leaning in towards the path blocking his way and the faint outline of the path leading into a dark clump clustered ahead. Halting, he stands quietly as he surveys the area ahead, a tremor of fear creeping through his mind as an ominous feeling sends chills down his spine. Looking around for any movement he gives a soft shake of his head trying to rid himself of the odd feeling as he trudges on, dismissing the feeling of being exposed and open he crosses through a small gulley, climbs up a small incline to the other side before heading into a wide stretch of waist high grass. Tall stalks ripple gently in waves as a light breeze brushes against them, soft whistling noises as the air moves through them the sodden stalks encroach upon the pathway, sticking cloyingly to his clothes the hard seeds tickle and scratch his hands as he pushes through them. Unbidden laugher bubbles up as he shakes the water from his hands moving deeper into the grass fields, the strange feeling niggling at the back of his mind a forgotten itch. Eyes drift across the swishing fields, the tantalising dance capturing him as he steps onwards. With a jolt he stops dead in his tracks, his half closed eyes widening in surprise and unreasonable fear as large crooked shapes loom across his path, leaning towards him as they tower several tens of feet into the sky. Large knobbly hands reach menacingly towards him in through the darkness and he takes a step backwards.

‘What the...!’ Swallowing he steps closer, approaching the large objects with trepidation. A faint glimmering mass of grey stands immovable at the bottom of the dark shadows towering above him, two pillars of carved marble blocking his path. Dozens of pinpricks of light scattered across the swirling shapes appear like eyes keeping watch on the pathway and he inches slowly closer. Hand outstretched he moves closer, the two massive pillars planted on either side of the road covered in swirls of faint inscriptions, the embossed inscriptions on the smooth rock glittering ephemerally. Beyond the pillars large knobbly towers stand closely packed, wet patches illuminated by the moonlight cast from above lending to the illusion of hundreds of ‘eyes’ watching the path. Bent limbs reach out over the narrow pathway, long fingers swaying gently in the wind as the breeze swirls between the tall posts, soft drops of water lifting through the air landing on the ground beneath in soft plops. Fumbling for a word, he rolls several around his tongue, testily trying to put a name to the large shapes before him. Frustration floods through him as he looks at the trees, the names of the different types escaping him.

Turning his attention back to the pillars he runs a finger along the embossed inscriptions on the stone, a warm tingling sensation running up his arm as he traces the signs. Jerking his hand away he steps back, a sharp pain shooting through his head, blinding him as a flash of white lances through his eyes. Soft whispers whisk around him, words in multitudes of tongues and tones swirling and rolling around his head in a confused cacophony of madness. Shaking his head violently he tries to clear his vision, slapping his hands to his ears, an odd feeling welling up from deep in the pit of his stomach. Screaming he looks around anxiously, the feeling that there is something he should be remembering threatening to overwhelm him, dregs of hidden thoughts niggle at the edges of his mind like fish nibbling on hooks. Trembling he pushes past the pillars and stumbles along the pathway into the shadowy forest growing beyond.

Clumps of Birch and Chestnut trees grow closely packed on both-sides of the path, undergrowth and wild berry bushes growing thickly underneath, their prickly leaves and thorny branches reaching out towards the thin trail. Looking around and up at long branches hanging outstretched overhead, fingers reaching low as if they are attempting to snatch at you through the air.

‘Stupid trees! Where am I?’ he yells loudly into the darkness surrounding him, the canopy of interlaced branches, thick with varied green and brown blocking out the stars and the moon. Muffled plops resound around him, soft splashes and puffs on layers of mulch and rotten leaves, the collected water from the recent downpour dripping from the branches to the ground below.

‘They are not stupid! And you are in Reish!’ a sharp voice admonishes him from out of the shadows ahead. Gasping, he jumps backwards, eyes thinning as tries to see into the darkness.

‘Wh... who said that? Show yourself!’ managing to put a lot more courage behind his words then he felt inside at that moment he adds strongly. ‘I... I... I have a weapon! So... don’t try anything foolish!’

‘Do not threaten unless you are willing to have your words put to the test, sir!’ the sharp voice barks loudly, closer than a moment before. ‘Who are you and why are you trespassing in these forests?’

Turning he tries to follow the sound of the voice floating from the darkness, feeling very uncomfortable with the strange way it seems to be moving, the voice coming from everywhere and nowhere spilling eerily all around him. Inching back slowly he begins to retreat but stops as a rough edge of wood pushes against his shoulder. Stopped from going any further, his heart beats thickly in his throat, powerlessness turning his limbs to water.

‘Who sent you to spy here? What do you want here?’ The voice whispers, hot breath tickling his earlobe, menacing and cold and he jerks away.

‘What are you? Where are you?’ his voice squeaks out as he turns frantically, the white of his eyes stark in his face as a chill runs down his spine. Breathing heavily he whispers softly, more to himself then to the sharp voice tormenting him from the darkness. ‘How do you move without me hearing you?’ In solemn answer the voice sounds directly behind him and before he manages to swing around to face it, a slender arm grabs him around the neck, the sharp point of a dagger pressed menacingly against the soft flesh above his coccyx, the whisper brushing the hair of his neck.

‘That should hardly be your greatest concern at this moment. Now answer me or forfeit your freedom,’ venom drips at the last clipped words. ‘Or your life!’

Realising the futility of struggling against his assailant, he relaxes, the reflexive straining against the death-grip around his neck easing as he breathes calmly. Croaking through clenched jaw, he speaks hesitantly.

‘My name is... My name is...!’ Fluttering away like a leaf on a breeze the thought disappears. ‘My name is...!’

‘Do not waste my time! Who are you and why have you come into Reish?’ The feminine voice cracks like a whip through the air, the arm tightening threateningly around his neck.

‘There was a boat... I think I came here on the boat. No one else there... was stranded on the beach over that ridge back there. I survived. I saw a light further up the valley. I do not know where I am or who I am. I stumbled onto this path. I had no idea I was trespassing,’ pausing to catch his breath he licks his dry lips nervously. ‘My mind is a blank and I have no idea where I was headed or if I was even on the boat. I woke up on the beach and started this way,’ sagging tiredly against her arm he whispers. ‘The only thing I do know is… I am alive.’ Breathing shallowly, he pauses, waiting for reaction. The soft curve of a breast presses lightly against his back and he realises with a start that the attacker was a woman. ‘Are you satisfied, miss? Will you let me go now?’ before he can stop himself a stream of questions escape his lips. ’Who are you and where am I and why are you attacking me? Can you help me... Let me go?’

The woman holding him inhales deeply before exhaling stiffly, the sound of her sniffing the air testily loud next to his ear. ‘You do smell of ocean.’ The blunt statement catches him unawares and he slumps weakly against her arm, her tight grip loosening instinctively to prevent choking his throat closed. Realising that the pressure around his neck was easing he tries to turn slightly in the hope of catching a glimpse of his attacker.

Thud!

Stars swim in front of his eyes as a deafening blow against the back of his head forces him to his knees. Swaying drunkenly on his legs he drops to his knees, mentally forcing his mind to stay awake as darkness enfolds him. Groggily he pushes himself up from the ground with one hand, his teeth gritted against the pain stabbing through his skull as he stumbles weakly to his feet.

Thud! Thud!

The two consecutive blows ring through the silent forest, startling sleeping birds nesting close-by into flight, kaws and screeches of annoyance drifting from the branches overhead as he topples limply on his side. Blinking dazedly, darkness flickering across his vision as his vision narrows from the outside edges, the last captured flashes are of two supple legs, smooth creamy skinned rounded calves flowing into a pair of brown leather boots, standing over his head. A softly spoken whisper reaches his ears as he sinks into oblivion. ‘You are required to stand before the Elders. Please accept my apology for the violence done to you. This is as it has to be.’

Flickering light snaps into darkness. Drifting into colourless sleep thoughts and memories spin in a maelstrom around him as black silence drowns out screams.

His screams. Their screams. Deafened, he floats aimlessly through the void.