CIRCLE OF SHADOWS Part 1: Shadow Chaser

A new moon hangs low in the starry sky, the numerous pinpricks of light the only source of light through the darkness.

Splotches of grey occasionally drift past and block out the dim stars as large clouds swirl buoyantly on the late summer breeze blowing through the air.

The dry and hot desert air from the north, colliding with the cold mountain air from the south: the creators of massive storms and lighting shows.

Simion looks forlornly out the window of his high tower, gazing into the distance as lightning flares across the endless grass plains.

A gust of wind swirls around him and through the window, a smell of wet earth carried on its back, as a roll of thunder drums loudly from the plains.

Rapt and attentive Simion waits as the clouds roll in and fat drops begin to patter against the castles’ stone walls.

Sighing contently, eyes closed in rapture, as the drops fly in through the small window, hitting him wetly in the face.

Simion savours the cool feeling of the water splashing against him momentarily, licking the drops from his lips before wiping his sleeve across his face.

Pulling the wooden shutters across the window, Simion turns and walks to the small chair by the table against the wall,

lights a candle and sits down.

Thunder crashes from outside, flashes of lightning bright silver arcs through the dark sky, casting the room in stark white that fades away slowly.

Sighing heavily Simion reaches for the bag standing next to the table’s leg, picking it up sadly and plonking it down on the table before him. He opens the flap gingerly, reaches inside the bag and pulls out the covered book. With one hand he swipes the bag off the table, flinging it into the corner of the room, places the book gently down and unwraps the black cloth wound around it, very slowly.

Closing his eyes he bends his head over the brilliant white cover, crushed diamonds and silver filaments gleaming enticingly in the flickering candle light, dazzling shimmers of light cast against the dark walls as lightning flashes outside.

Simion bends his head closer to the book, one hand gently caressing the cover, eyes closed and his face relaxed and serene. Opening his eyes slowly, he lifts his head up and runs his finger along the pages, before he sits back, slumped in his chair.

Shoulders bent and shaking, tears coursing across his cheeks, wracking sobs tearing from his throat, he says softly under his breath.

‘Forgive me. I had no other choice.’

Rocking forwards and backwards in his chair, he hums softly to himself.

Rain splatters loudly against the shuttered window, a continuous pitter-patter echoing through the small room.

Simion stops rocking and opens his tightly clenched eyes, looking down at the book lying on the table in front of him.

Reaching with a shaking hand he touches the cover again with one finger, running the tip of the finger gently across the cover.

Slowly he lifts the cover to expose a yellowed page, still crisp and immaculate and runs his finger over the embossed gold lettering.

A frown crosses his face as he mouths the strange language written down, translating softly as he reads on.

‘The Tome of Death.’

His voice awed and hushed in reverence as he reads out loud.

Flicking the page gently over, he reads the next passage, concentrating hard as he deciphers the wording scrawled in intricate lettering made from numerous swirling lines and whirly patterns.

Bending closer he notices faint indentations at the sides of several passages, the handwriting neat and orderly compared to the scribes’ intricate lettering.

‘Amazing!’

Shaking his head he turns the page, noticing more notes

scribbled next to the passages.

Realization floods over his face and he sits back.

‘It must have been all the different High Masters that studied the texts and added their own insights over the years.’

Simion pages through the book for a couple of minutes longer then closes the book and sits back, arms folded across his chest as he looks at the blank wall, listening to the rain drops hitting the closed shutter.

Simion looks around the room drowsily as tiredness creeps over him suddenly, the cold room chilly and damp.

Pushing his chair back its legs scraping loudly across the stone floor, he stands up and stretches his back arms thrown high above his head as he yawns open mouthed.

The closed shutters behind him rattle noisily as the wind races past it.

Whoooooo-ooo. Whuu-thudd!Whuu-thudd!

Simion jumps at the sound, swinging around quickly, eyes open wide in fright. As he moves closer to the window he sees the shutter swinging wildly, banging against the stone wall outside.

The wind gusts in through the open window, billowing into the room, swirling madly around Simion.

Shrii-shrii-shree!

Simion whips around at the new sound behind him.

On the table white pages flutter and slash through the air, wind whipping the loose pages about.

An anguished scream rips from Simion’s lips and he rushes over to the table, slapping the pages down hard before the wind rips them to shreds.

Panting heavily he sighs relieved as the wind dies down, the room returning to a state of calm. Simion lifts his hands from the book, turns around and hurriedly walks over to the window, fastening the shutters quickly before another gust rips through the apartment.

Satisfied the shutters will stay secured he walks back to the table.

As he reaches down to close the book, he notices the strange wording in one of the passages.

“...disease and plague will follow, in Red Albino’s shadow. From black order one as new shall rise, to vanquish Red tide. For should these fellows fail, all shall be lost and gone... Red’s might forever strong.”

Simion slams his hands on the table top, the icy claws of fear tearing through his insides.

Grabbing his stomach he jumps up, runs weakly to the washroom and empties his bowels into the latrine.

Sitting quietly in his chair, silence hanging ominously in the silent room, Venere looks down into the golden bowl standing on the table before him.

The silvery liquid inside the bowl, smooth and undisturbed, the scene happening in the tower room displayed with perfect clarity.

Venere sits back, a tight grimace on his pale face.

Closing his eyes he breathes deeply and relaxes his posture after the intense hours of scrying.

Rubbing his temples gently with his fingers, he gets up and walks to the closed window, pulling the hanging drapes aside and looks into the dark sky.

The last bit of clouds disperses rapidly as the tail end of the storm moves off into the distance, lightning playing wildly through the sky. Resting his arms on the window sill he lays his head on his arms, fatigue overwhelming him.

He pushes away from the window, his legs shaking slightly as he walks back to the empty chair.

Plod!

He sits down hard and looks sideways at the bowl on the dark wooden table, deep furrows across his forehead.

‘Where did that wind come from suddenly?’

He asks loudly into the empty room.

Shifting his body, he rests his elbow on the chair’s arm and lays his chin in his palm, staring blankly at the bowl.

‘Why did Simion react that way when the page turned over?’

Musing sullenly to himself he suddenly sits up straighter, resolve and determination flooding across his gaunt features.

Slamming his fist against the table he utters in a grim voice as he jumps up.

‘I must find out what it was!’

Robes fluttering around him he rushes to the door, ripping it open viciously before storming into the dark passage beyond.

Venere stops just outside the door, curses under his breath and swings around, walking back into the room quickly.

Eyes blazing he heads into his bed chamber, rips the wardrobe open and takes a shroud down from a shelf, pulling it over his head.

Taking a deep breath he turns around and walks back to the door, pulling it softly close behind him as he enters the dimly lit passage.

With long strides he walks down the hallway, blood red robes flowing in the air behind him.

As he reaches the door at the end of the corridor he stops and turns to the wall next to him.

A hissing command flows from his lips.

The wall shudders slightly and a faint outline of light appears against the dark grey stone, spreading quickly into a square frame of light against the wall.

A soft hiss issues from behind the wall as the square begins

to vibrate and then suddenly slide into a gap hidden inside the wall, exposing a dark stairwell leading upwards.

With a flick of his wrist Venere conjures a globule of light drifting above his palm, the faint green light intensifying as he moves into the darkness.

Venere walks forward quickly and the door closes silently behind him, all trace of its existence erased.

Running up the stairs, exhilaration and excitement rushing through his body, Venere smiles to himself, giddy as a young boy in love.

‘Finally, after all these years of waiting I have it in my grasp. Such a shame I cannot hold it in my hands. Damn the Necra mages who put the Withholding spell on the book!’

Coming to a small landing Venere halts momentarily, resting his palms against the cool surface of the inner wall.

The light from the globule dims as he rests, casting a green pallor across the grey walls, Venere’s red robes black in the faint light.

Breathing heavily he looks up the stairs leading into the tower, curving around and around as they go higher, built long ago between the wall and the real tower stairs. Dipping his head, resigned to the long distance up, he pushes away from the wall and at a more moderate pace begin to ascend the stairs.

‘Damned fools!’

He breathes heavily as he rounds the first curve of the stairs, his hand sliding against the wall to support him.

‘Now I need that imbecile Simion to handle the tome. No one else will be capable or even able to touch the book, unless they were granted leave by the High Master himself.’

Snarling viciously he walks on, panting slightly from the exertion, completely silent except for the laboured breaths coming from his weak lungs.

The green light shines brightly, illuminating the curves of the stairs leading up into the darkness as Venere moves steadily higher into the tower.