CIRCLE OF SHADOWS Part 1: Shadow Chaser

Whispers float lightly on the still morning breeze, a soft moaning murmur, barely discernable above the normal sounds of nature awakening after a nights’ peaceful rest.

Galen rolls sleepily over, arms protectively clamped around his head, forcefully trying to keep his senses lulled and immersed in the darkness of sleep.

The last few weeks of travelling having sapped his strength, he turns on his side, flings his arms wide, his eyes slowly cracking open.

Groaning loudly as he pushes himself into a sitting position, a dull thud pounding between his ears, he looks around him sleepily before getting unsteadily to his feet.

Agonising pain lances through his limbs, his muscles stiff from walking and trekking over the uneven terrain since they left the forest over a week ago.

The whispers that woke him, drifts to his ears again and he glances around him, seeking their hidden origin. Stretching his back he notices, eyes widening in surprise, that the three Greylarks have already rolled up their bedrolls and packed their meagre collection of travel equipment away.

The three bulging packs stand loosely together, leaning against a fallen tree that had served as a bench the previous evening when they had made camp. The hard wood provided a slight reprieve from the hard ground and pointy rocks that they have had to endure after the soft loam and leafy floor of the forest.

Wincing as he thinks of the hard points poking into his legs and back, he pulls his grimy blue shirt up over his head and rolls it into a small bundle, dropping it lightly on the bedroll. He rubs his hands quickly through his hair, his fingers deftly combing the wayward strands together before he ties the leather thong tightly around it.

Galen yawns before making his way slowly to the small stream flowing a small distance from their campsite.

‘I wonder where they have disappeared too.’

Shaking his head he kneels by the waters edge, places his hands flat on the ground and dunks his head underneath the flowing water.

Splash!

Arms flailing wildly, water splashing everywhere around him, he whips his head back out, eyes stretched wide in astonishment.

‘Gkk!’

The sound escapes from his throat and he gulps air greedily into his lungs.

‘C-c-c-old! B-b-b...blades of Dolei! That water is cold!’

Shivering slightly he sits back, arms folded around his chest as he tries to rub warmth back into himself, his skin red and

prickled, stinging from the frigid water.

A soft snicker emanates from behind him and he looks around alarmed, warmth suffusing his cold cheeks as a faint red blush floods into his cheeks.

Galen gets up angrily, glares into the bushes behind him and stomps off to where his bedroll still lies on the ground.

Water drips from his hair and rolls across his smooth coppery skin, leaving faint wet lines running down it, drops running over his chest and around the black stone talisman.

The faint morning sun breaks through the last clouds and shines brightly on his skin. The sudden bright sunlight highlights a thin white line running, from his left shoulder, across his back and ending in a puckered mass of scar tissue, close to his lower ribs.

A soft gasp escapes from behind the bushes, followed by the soft rustle of leaves being pushed apart to make way for someone trying to go through.

Shivering slightly Galen bends down and picks up his shirt, flaps it against his leg a couple of times to rid it of most of the dusty grime, before pulling it roughly over his head, cursing under his breath in anger.

‘Damn foresters! After a week together you would expect more from them!’

Bending to his knees he rolls his bedding into a tight roll before dragging his bag closer to him.

‘Where, in the name of all that is good, are we heading!? So far not one has even hinted as to what to expect when we get to these damn mountains.’

Frustrated and angry, Galen slams the few belongings he has into the bag before tossing it unceremoniously towards the three stacked together against the tree.

Getting up he picks up a dull brown scabbard, worn and scuffed from many years of use and hooks it to a link on his belt.

‘It’s a wonder they even agreed to let me buy this sword.’

Gripping the leather bound handle of the short sword he pulls the sword out and waves it in smooth arcs before him.

Sunlight glints along the sharp edge of the weapon, flashing enticingly across the blade as he swings it around, parrying and thrusting in quick succession.

Grunting with the effort, his tight muscles relax and stretch, blood flowing quicker through his body.

Breathing deeply, he swirls the sword, thrusts upwards and slams the blade back into the scabbard in one smooth motion.

Amazement written across his face, he looks at his hands, his head shaking in silence.

The last few days since he had bought the sword in that small non-descript village, he has practiced occasionally, and every day the improvement in his method had been staggering.

‘It is like my body is remembering training that I have did not know I had.’

Galen picks up the empty canteen lying on the floor, turns around and walks back to the stream to fill it up.

‘Today I am not even sweating or breathing half as hard. Wow!’

Galen clenches his teeth and dips his hand into the cold water, his skin tingling slightly.

The bottle filled up completely, he gets up and walks back to the fallen tree and hooks it unto his pack.

With a groan he sits down on the bench and awaits the arrival of his companions in silence.

A soft footfall from behind him indicates their arrival and he remains seated next to the packs, idly picking at his fingernails.

The sweet scent of lily water waft towards him on the soft breeze and he smiles grimly to himself. Virian!

A slight breath of air behind him tickles his neck and he stifles a shiver from running down his spine, his smile cracking wider at the thought of her body close to him.

Her leggings rustle softly against each other and as she walks around the fallen tree he looks up at her.

The weeks travel had done her good and she had lost a small amount of weight, her clothes not quite as snug fitting as when he had first met her.

The dark long hair fall invitingly over her cheek and cascades in dark falls over her shoulder.

Meekly, Virian looks at Galen from under her long dark lashes, a sincere smile playing on her lips.

‘Sorry you had to wait so long for us.’

Galen shrugs, pulling his shoulders up as he waves nonchalantly at her apology.

‘I kept myself occupied. I am ready to move on whenever you lot feel that you are ready.’

Virian glances sideways at him and sits down on a small hollow in the tree next to him, taking a deep breath as she perches on the edge of the seat, hands stiffly on her knees.

‘Galen.’ Her voice soft as she begins to speak. ‘Since you have regained some of your memory, you have been rather withdrawn. We would like you to feel that you are part of us... in a companion manner of speaking.’

Her voice falters and cracks a little and before she goes on she clears her throat.

‘We have noticed that other things are returning too.’

’Like what? Galen asks abruptly, knowing deep down what she means to talk about.

‘Like what? You even need to ask?’

Virian’s voice raises slightly, her cheeks turning red as she begins to lose her temper, but then she notices Galen’s grin and relaxes suddenly.

‘Sorry.’

Galen waves the apology away, shaking his head sadly as he

begins to speak.

‘You need to learn how to relax, Virian. You are tensed up all the time. Take a break.’

Virian pulls her face at him, her full lips puckering slightly, as she rolls her eyes. Both suddenly start laughing at each other, and then relaxing her position Virian slumps in her seat, her head hanging down slightly.

Looking through her dark hair at Galen’s face, she says softly.

‘You are beginning to remember previous training you had, the type of training that had been drilled into you since you were a boy. For instance, your swordsmanship; it is improving rapidly, and you have only been practising it for a few days now. That means somewhere deep inside you must have the knowledge of using a sword.’

Galen grunts and nods his head.

‘I have been thinking that may well be the case.’

Virian lifts a hand, indicating Galen to be quiet a moment.

‘The other thing is...’

Virian pauses here slightly, a little unsure of how to continue the conversation without making Galen angry.

’... it is safe to assume, knowing what family you are from and from what people you come, that you would have been trained in the dark arts too. Pretty soon you will probably begin to show signs of that training and it might be

uncontrollable at first.’

Virian swallows loudly, glances away and then slowly looks at Galen to try and gauge his reaction. To her surprise he just sits there, grinning insanely as he looks at her.

‘You have beautiful eyes, especially when you are feeling insecure. They glint and sparkle with a light of their own.’

Mouth stretched wide she stares at Galen’s face in consternation, amusement flashing in her eyes as a slight blush creep up her neck.

‘Did you hear what I said?’

Her voice coming out pinched and tight as she gets up from the seat, to stand arms in her sides in front of him.

‘Yes I did. Did you hear what I said?’

Galen grins widely at the flash of annoyance crossing her face, and as she turns around and walks towards the stream, he calls to her.

‘Tell Talli not to spy on people when they have just woken up, she might see something that could damage her innocent mind.’

Virian stops, turns around and gasps loudly, eyes widening as his suggestive words sink in.

‘You pig!’

The harsh effect of the admonishment disappears as Galen notices the smile on her face, the red blush on her neck deepening in colour, and she turns around and walks hastily down to the stream.

Chuckling merrily at himself, he leans back into the tree, picking at his nails again, a huge smile playing on his face.