ã€ŠTransference: A Bringers Taleã€‹


 Prologue

    he air stank of iron and sulfur as corpses slowly moved from dead to decaying on a hot Monday morning. The people of a village that traded wool and produced ale were no longer of the living. They sat, lay or hung on the ground, at the trees, by the river or in their homes with cuts, slashes and wounds that came from swords or other sharp objects that could cause such.

    Supported by his double serpent cane, Radulf knelt beside a man who seemed to be a farmer. He laid his big pack down and searched its contents. He found a palm-sized needle, a foot-long saw and a knife with a flat blade. With his bare hands, he tore the man''s tunic apart and pressed the skin on the upper chest area. Using his good eye, he punctured a hole in the middle of the collar bone. His knife incised from the hole down to the hip line. He then made parallel cuts from around the top of the chest and at the waist. Propping with his blade, he lifted the skins apart and folded them on each side, opening the cadaver.

    Out of thin air, a tiny olive colored hand reached from the back of his shoulder and pulled itself up. The hand belonged to a foot-tall beast with the head and twirling horns of a goat. It hoisted itself up rightly on his shoulder revealing a man''s torso, balancing with its donkey hooves and legs.

    "Are you done yet? I am famished." His stomach growled.

    "Patience is a virtue," Radulf reminded.

    "That is true if I were a man, but I''m not," he yawned. "So no virtue. I want my food."

    Ignoring the beast, he began sawing the rib cage of the dead. When it had been cleared, he sorted the good organs from the bad. He put them in a jar that had a light brown liquid reeking of garlic and rotting cabbage.

    He packed the blades back and sealed the jar. "This is done. You can have it, Bapholin." After pushing himself up with his cane, he then moved to the next body.

    The beast jumped to the dead''s face and opened its wide jaws. White tendrils of smoke escaped the nostrils, ears, mouth and eyes of the dead and entered the man-goat''s famished insides. When it finished, it burped, satisfied.

    "Where''s the next..." It snapped its mouth shut and growled.

    "Problem?" demanded Radulf.

    With no words of explanation, it galloped ahead on all fours, eyes straight, focus forward.

    "Bapholin where are you--blasted," he shouted. He hurriedly pulled himself up with his cane and followed after the tiny goat.

    From corner to corner, the beast traversed over the dead, winding past market stalls, barrels, wagons and more. It traveled past the church, the school and the town hall, stopping at a small inn.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    Out of breath, Radulf caught up with the beast now growling at the front door. "What was that useless running for?" he exclaimed.

    "There''s someone inside." Bapholin was at the door like a guard dog.

    "Impossible. The wards are all complete," he reasoned. "Neither the boatman nor the Cloak can enter. If this is one of your antics, I swear--"

    "When I say someone is inside, someone is inside," it roared.

    Ready with his cane, Radulf gently pushed the front door open and stepped in.

    Pinned by three arrows on the wall, a man hung lifelessly with a blank face. Beside him, another man, maybe his brother by semblance of face, was lying on the table with a cut right on his side. But neither moved nor showed any signs of living.

    "I...do not understand." Bapholin started sniffing the room.

    "Everyone''s dead. You owe me for that exhaustive run." Radulf made his way to the corner, hovering over a plump woman with hollow brown eyes. She lay on a straw pallet with a blanket wrapped around her body.

    "I know it''s here," growled the beast. "I can''t be wrong. We know the difference."

    "Right. I suppose you do," he aired. "Maybe you sensed a tree or a flower. There''s life in that, isn''t there?"

    "You dare mock me human?" Its voice rose.

    He laid a hand on the pale skin of the woman underneath the sheets. Her icy temperature competed with his own. "Oh no. I don''t dare that at all." His nose sniffed nothing of the ferric smell of blood around her, or the process of decay.

    It checked on the dead. "Life was here. It was here," it defended.

    Laying down his rod aside, Radulf stretched the left eyelid to better see the whiteness of her eye. He then opened her mouth and inspected its insides. When that didn''t satisfy him, he took the blanket off and began pressing his hand all over the body. Grumbles of frustration clouded his mind. He ripped the dead''s worn out dress, displaying a fully naked carcass.

    Bapholin smelled the dead woman next. "What are you on about?" it asked.

    He caressed every square inch of it. "This woman is dead, yet there are no signs of wounds, bruises, or stabs anywhere. It''s odd," he explained.

    "Perhaps she died of illness."

    "I presumed as well. But her body left no sign of fever or disease. Also, I cannot sense her soul. Others you have not devoured, I do, just not hers."

    A whiff of something caught the beast. It checked the woman''s head, then moved to her breast and her belly. It''s small, bushy tail wagged.

    "What? Do you suddenly want to do it with the dead? Didn''t figure you for that type."

    "No. You disgusting old fart," barked the goat. "She''s with child."

    Radulf''s one brow rose above the strap of his eye patch. "Yes I had assumed so, considering her breasts and heftiness," he described.

    "The child is alive," it announced.

    His face went blank; his posture, rigid. The next moment he had found his flat blade and was cutting through the mother''s fat. His movements were careful and more precise unlike what he had done with the dead before.

    "You are delivering it?" Bapholin''s shoulders sagged.

    "What do you suggest?"

    "Kill it. Feed me its soul." Its tail wagged again.

    "You can have all the dead here," he urged. "But this living creature. This beautiful creature will live. He or she will grow, and you will never eat him."

    Its eyes dilated and snickered. "It''s finally dying. His soul is leaving. And...it is a he."

    He had removed the flesh and skin enough to view the baby''s head. "No. No. He will not die." He continued the delivery as his mouth chanted a spell, and the dead seemed to rouse from their sleep.

    Bapholin''s eyes grew dark as it shook its head. "Crazy old man." It stood on all fours, galloped away from the ongoing labor and move outside to continue with his feast.

 1: 16 years afterâ€¦

    Standing with one foot on a crate, a bearded man in a blue doublet strummed his lute while he sang. Another man in red fiddled his viola and sent air kisses and winks to the ladies. With the allure of her curves in an airy dress and a loose open bodice, a girl danced along with her tambourine. The three performers roused a growing crowd in the middle of the city square with the beat of clapping hands and stomping feet.

    At a nearby butcher shop, William heard the music playing and simply released the pig¡¯s foot he held and headed out.

    He squished through the gaps between the mass, using his lanky frame. ¡°Excuse me. Sorry. Coming through,¡± he said as he stumbled up front.

    The man in blue carried the song while the one in red kept his eyes on the ladies as they purred with every note he sent their way. William was at awe with how the sound lifted his spirits and everyone around him. But what struck him the most was the girl who leapt and twiddled her feet over the cobblestone ground like it was her playground and nothing else mattered.

    ¡°Nice beat huh?¡± a tiny voice said to William¡¯s right.

    Without looking, he answered, ¡°Yes it is. A great beat.¡± He tossed coins in the viola case where all the other money were.

    They played and played until the audience had doubled its size. And when the man in blue seemed satisfied, his rhythm changed; the two followed his lead. Suddenly, their playing was faster-- heart thumping and blood pumping. They fiddled their strings vigorously, their faces adorned with the addiction of music, and their bodies trapped in movements of harmony.

    ¡°You know what else is a great beat?¡± asked the tiny voice.

    ¡°What?¡± William asked aloud.

    ¡°Your father¡¯s fist when he gives you the beating of your life.¡±

    He faced his right and saw Bapholin propped on his shoulder with a tiny scowl on his goat face.

    ¡°It¡¯s only two shillings. I have enough money for the rest.¡±

    ¡°What if the cost increased? What then?¡±

    He was lost for words. He could sell something, but he had not any belongings worth anything. ¡°But I watched them perform. I have to pay them something,¡± he reasoned.

    ¡°We came here to buy supplies for your father. Not squander coin and see the show,¡± interrupted the beast. ¡°Now move your lazy bum and get to the supplies.¡±

    William wanted to tell the beast off, but decided against it in fear of retaliation when it would tell his father. He begrudgingly left the town square as it exploded with a roar of whistles and applause. He had figured they had done something spectacular for the last part of the show.

    At the marketplace, he made his way into the food stalls and picked up ingredients for cooking. He then went to a shop selling trinkets of oddities: bracelets fitted with bones and gems, blades with animal parts as hilts, organs of carcasses in jars and more.

    The lady in the store met with him. ¡°Oh, how are you my dear?¡± she asked, wiping her hands clean on her apron over her plain brown dress.

    His pinkish lips stretched to his ears as his dark brown eyes flicked to Elise¡ªa triggered response he always had with her. He had been coming to her shop with his father since the day he could walk and talk. He had never known a mother in his life, but the neighbours and young children he knew had one. And when he had met them, he gathered they were of different sorts. Some were fat and talkative, others were skinny to the bones like he, some were meek and fragile and others were heavy and aggressive. But throughout all those he had seen, he told himself if he ever had one, she would be exactly like she.

    ¡°You really like this wench don¡¯t you?¡± Bapholin hopped from his shoulder and landed on one of the pots that had white beans in them.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine Elise. Thank you for asking,¡± he replied, trying his best to ignore the beast¡¯s comments.

    ¡°Did your father need supplies again?¡± she inquired with a kind smile and sparkling blue eyes.

    ¡°Why else would we be here? Certainly not to see you,¡± chided the beast, lying down on rat balls, yawning.

    ¡°Yes, please,¡± William answered promptly.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    After years and years of practice, he had learned not to be surprised by the beast¡¯s comments when other people interacted with him. He knew fully well that reacting would only incur questions such as: Who are you talking to? Did you say something? Or William¡¯s favorite: Child, are you seeing demons? If only he could tell the truth. But then again, living in the Howe household had given him secrets he would not know who could believe.

    Elise produced a sack from under her wares and began stuffing it with clay jars and items packed in leather. ¡°He isn¡¯t coming today?¡± she inquired.

    ¡°For a woman, your observations can be astoundingly astute,¡± commented the beast.

    ¡°He left this morning to the mountains again,¡± answered William. ¡°Picking up moonflowers and blooming Jasmines.¡±

    Her shoulders slackened as she placed a tied number of red twigs in the sack. ¡°It¡¯s that time of the month isn¡¯t it? I do hope he takes care travelling.¡±

    ¡°Has something happened?¡± His brows met.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t know? The Ameries eldest hasn¡¯t come home for two weeks already. At first they thought he was in the forest, camping, hunting. But after days, they were worried he hasn¡¯t come home or sent for word. His father and some of the soldiers went looking for him in the place he usually hunts. All they found was his clothes, cot and rotten food. Nobody has any idea where he went off to.¡±

    Bapholin yawned another mouthful and airy release. ¡°So someone is missing again. What¡¯s new about that? You know what could be great? You. Missing. Now that¡¯s certainly news for me.¡±

    ¡°Do you think this is like the others?¡± asked William earnestly.

    Ever since the year started, young people had been disappearing. One day, people from the ages twenty and below were seen going on with their day and the next they were gone. There were no bodies, blood or any evidence of a struggle or signs of foul play. They simply vanished and left no trace.

    ¡°The soldiers cannot make heads or tails of it. I hope it isn¡¯t but¡­most likely it is.¡± After tying the sack secure, she handed it to him.

    He placed a small bag of coins on the table and took the sack. ¡°I hope nothing has happened to him.¡± He untied the knot and inspected it. After checking chicken brains and sage petals off his list, he found a dagger wrapped in a fine leather holster.

    ¡°I really wished you didn¡¯t do that in front of me,¡± spoke Elise in an answer to William¡¯s puzzled look.

    ¡°What is this?¡± He lifted the dagger from the sack.

    ¡°A gift from me to you.¡± She smiled brightly.

    His eyes veered from her to the dagger. Its hilt was made from bronze with an etching of a serpent, coiling around it. ¡°Why not just hand it to me? But still I can¡¯t¡ªthis fine leather and the carving¡­this is¡­this is¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°I cannot take this. This is too much, too grand for someone like me. I¡¯m sorry. But I can¡¯t take this.¡± He held it back to her.

    She placed her hands on his and tightened his grip on it. ¡°This is why I didn¡¯t want you to find out. Take it. Whoever or whatever is doing this, I¡¯ll have a bit of peace knowing you¡¯ll be protected.¡±

    ¡°Take the damn thing,¡± howled the beast. ¡°Fighting with that is better than your girly fists. Look at you, you need one. Badly. And we both know that your father isn¡¯t going to give you any. Or even if he did, a bread knife is the best deal you¡¯re going to get.¡±

    ¡°Please?¡± She pleaded with a slight nod of her head.

    William sighed. ¡°All right. But please don¡¯t tell my father about this.¡± He took the dagger and strapped it around his hips.

    ¡°It will be our little secret.¡±

    ¡°Thank you Elise¡­¡± He found it hard looking straight into her eyes.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. I was glad to give it.¡±

    With a casual wave, he went for the exit and walked off.

    ¡°That was awfully nice of her don¡¯t you think? Coming from someone looking that wretched,¡± mouthed the beast, appearing again on his shoulder.

    ¡°Would you shut up already,¡± hissed William. ¡°Why do you hate her so?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t hate her, I just don¡¯t like her,¡± it explained. ¡°And besides, hating takes too much energy. I have no time for hating.¡±

    ¡°Then quit your comments at her. It isn¡¯t nice,¡± he said. ¡°She¡¯s been nothing but good to me and father. The least you can do is¡ª¡° As he turned to the beast, he bumped against someone. He lost his balance and fell on his bottom.

    A thin-framed man in red robes stood with a displeased grin. ¡°God doesn¡¯t want stupid boys like you wondering the streets with his head in the clouds.¡± His diamond eyes pierced through his spectacles, commanding respect and position.

    William could only bring his head lower and avert his eyes. ¡°I apologize sir.¡±

    The man gave a last look before he turned and left.

    Gripping the sack in his hand tighter, he pulled himself up from the ground and patted his bum and trousers, removing dust and dirt. ¡°I really don¡¯t like priests. They¡¯re creepy and scary, don¡¯t you think?¡± he mumbled.

    When no one answered him, he looked to each of his shoulder and then to the ground. ¡°Bapholin? Where are you? Bapholin?¡± He searched around him, but all he could see where the glum smiles and tired looks of the people out shopping. ¡°Great. Leave me alone again in the middle of conversation. As if I didn¡¯t look stupid enough talking to an invisible man-goat,¡± he exasperated.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you look stupid,¡± said a soft female voice.

    ¡°Trust me. When that goat talks to me, I look even more stupid,¡± he blurted out involuntarily as he turned and saw a child a good ten feet from him.

    With her frosting blonde curls tucked in a blue bonnet, the little girl stood in her white gown and silver bodice. She stared at him with a placid face. Her eyes were of crystal blue that made her fair skin glow even more. ¡°I¡¯m sure it isn¡¯t as bad as you think,¡± she answered.

    ¡°Wait. You saw that?¡±

    ¡°Saw what? You bumping into the priest or you having a fight with your pet?¡±

    ¡°You see him?¡± He watched her with a confused look.

    She batted her eyes nonchalantly. ¡°Him? Isn¡¯t it supposed to be an IT? It¡¯s a small, brawny, goat isn¡¯t it? Or is it a man? I¡¯m frankly confused.¡±

    ¡°How can you see him? You¡¯re¡ªthis is impossible. How can you?¡±

    ¡°I have eyes don¡¯t I? So I see him.¡± The girl shrugged, turned and started ahead.

    ¡°Wait!¡± As if pushed from behind, William walked a couple of steps then ran for her.

    When the little lady turned a corner, he turned a corner; when she crossed a bridge, so did he. And when she went inside an abandoned home outside of town, he followed suit.

 2: Following Shadows and Little Girls

    He stumbled into the house, barging on the front door and stopping at the middle of the living room. It stank of rodent feces and rain-dried lumber. He carefully placed a foot forward, now weary and conscious of the new environment. He had never seen this house before, much less knew where exactly where it was located. His hands dabbed the cracked walls and the cobwebbed benches and tables. He figured it had been left for years unattended, or the owner had simply died and no next of kin was available to take it. As he wondered through the hall and into the kitchen, a lock of blond hair swooshed at the corner of his eye. He turned exactly in time to see the girl¡¯s feet disappear into a room above. He followed her inside a wide space with dirty crates, portraits and chests covered with dust sacks.

    ¡°Where are you?¡± he said softly, rounding a crate to see its other side. But no girl was there. ¡°I don¡¯t want to bother you. I only need to know why you can see him.¡± He lifted a chest big enough for her to hide. Clothes of red and blue greeted him, but no little lady.

    ¡°Please. I only need to talk¡ª¡°

    When he pressed the chest shut, the air around him cooled to a temperature close to winter, but the atmosphere felt heavy enough that clouds could form and rain would pour in. His arms instantly wrapped around his body. He wore only a plain brown trouser and a light tunic, not even a doublet for a proper young man. His thin body shriveled from the cold, wishing for the heat of the afternoon sun.

    Right when he stood to leave, the slivers of sunlight peeking through the shut windows changed into a blood red hue. His feet led him near the windows, near the rays of crimson light. He held his hand up against it and found it was the same as any light, but no heat carried over as the sun¡¯s blaze like he had expected. Squinting, he pressed his forehead closer to the windows, peeking through the openings. But soon as his head touched the cold dry wood, a loud thud came from downstairs.

    He snapped towards the closed door, ears patiently waiting for another sound. When he had dismissed it as a cat or rat causing ruckus in the basement, he casually moved ahead. Another sound thundered from downstairs, making him stop yet again. Then after a while, footfalls followed. Huge and full. When the sound came at him constantly, five seconds apart, instinctively he positioned himself behind a crater, kneeling on one knee and with a good half view of the door.

    He was convinced the sounds were either human or a large animal. The owner of the house perhaps or a squatter? No. Impossible. The house wasn¡¯t in fit shape to be habitable by anyone, not unless they¡¯re termites or mold. The sound grew louder and stronger. Whatever it was, it was coming closer. Then it must be a passerby or someone who needed to be alone or something. If it was any normal person, why did William feel the need to hide? Why was his heart beating faster, the hair on his skin standing up and all thoughts inside his head was screaming for him to leave the place?

    William couldn¡¯t take the suspense any more. He wasn¡¯t looking to know what it is that was coming to him. He had to get out now. He approached each of the barred windows in front of him, pushing, testing it if it budged. It took him three inspections before he finally found a window lose enough to pry open. Problem was, it was closer to the door where the sound was getting louder and stronger. He suddenly didn¡¯t care about the distance, he only wanted out. His fingers reached for the wooden plank placed on the window and pulled. With three big huffs, he managed to pull the plank from the window and stumble a couple steps back. More red light streamed from the outside as the sound immediately stopped. Silence ruled again.

    A part of William wanted to look out and see what had made it stop. But soon as he figured the opening he made was too small for him to pass, his fingers immediately wrapped itself on the next plank and pulled. He could always control his curiosity a lot better than most people. The nails fastened on the ends of the planks were tighter than the ones before, almost impossible to wrest open. But William heaved and hoed, determined to let the plank loose. Bits of scratches appeared on his palms as he pressed on the wood and pulled even harder.

    Taking a second break, he placed his right foot against the wall and pulled again. When one of the nails showed signs of giving in, he put more muscle into it, grunted and finally yanked it out. The inertial force caused him to topple and fall on the floor. At the same time, the door slammed open; a five-foot large object wrapped in white flew from the opening and landed on top of him. It was heavy but soft. When he had moved past the pain shooting from his back, he realized he was face to face with another boy fast asleep. His eyes bawled as it took every instinct in his body telling him not to scream. After a moment of quiet panic, he recognized that long bridged nose, those girly lashes and that slick blond hair.

    It was his good friend, Garret Talbot. He was the child of the Talbot household, the fifth son of the Earl of Shrewsbury. He liked Garret most among all the Earl¡¯s children for he was more concerned about the people around him than position and power unlike other nobles in court.

    Just as William had the inkling to shake his friend awake and ask him what he was doing resting here, a dark boot appeared at the corner of his eye. And then the shouts in his head that screamed for him to leave returned as did his fast beating heart. The man who owned the boots walked from his side and around, looking from Garret to him under his friend. William thought if this man was responsible for kidnapping Garret, it might not be best to here. But what could he do? He had already seen him and most likely he¡¯ll stop him if he tried to escape. So he did the next best thing to do.

    Nothing.

    He shut his eyes, relaxed his whole body and minimized his breathing so that his lungs didn¡¯t expand too much when he took air in.

    William felt the man move closer to him and Garret. When its feet was right next to his face, he couldn¡¯t resist opening his eyes, but by just a tiny bit. Dread and confusion made him feel smaller than he thought possible. The man wasn¡¯t really wearing dark boots. His feet rivaled the blackness of a raven¡¯s feather while coils of smoke snaked around his skin.

    The weight was suddenly lifted from his chest as he immediately shut his eyes. A hard thud sounded behind him as the floor vibrated. He could only discern that the man tossed Garret aside like he was made of paper, making him cower in his head, figuring how strong the man could actually be.

    As thoughts of escaping slowly dwindled from his mind, a brush of cool air passed over his face, causing his body to tense. His left hand was buried around his back as he felt the fine, hard leather of his dagger¡¯s hilt. As he planned an attack in his head¡ªif ever the situation had called for it¡ªa hard, icy and chilling grip held his jaw. His eyes flung open.

    Staring right back at him was a dark face of a man. No. It wasn¡¯t entirely a face. It was a head composed entirely of black matter with depth, contour and shapes that somehow replicated a human face. It had two dark pits where its eyes would have been as it seemingly stared right at him. The more William¡¯s sight adjusted to the dark, the more he learned that this wasn¡¯t a man. It was a shadow. A living, breathing shadow.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°AAAAAHHH,¡± screamed William.

    The shadow screamed back with a monstrous howl, tightening its hold on his jaw. When its fingertips dug deep into his skin, he released his dagger from its holster and slashed it across the shadow¡¯s face. The shadow recoiled back and covered its face with its hands, shouting, shrilling from the pain.

    William staggered to stand and walk over to where Garret was. When he was right next to him, he repeatedly and softly slapped and shook his face. ¡°Garret. It¡¯s me William. Get up. Garret. Wake¡ª¡° A strong force held him by the arms and threw him across the room. He landed in the middle of chests and crates as his limbs were scrapped by its sharp corners.

    The shadow howled from its victory toss, stretched its arms and started towards him.

    With adrenaline masking the pains in his body, William forced his limbs to push himself up while holding the dagger in his hand clumsily for defense. When the shadow came in close distance of him, he swiped it up, down and across, daring the shadow to come closer. The shadow shrilled, darting its limbs forward and back.

    After a few missed forays, it made a grumbling noise and extended a hand in the air. Its black arm swelled, curled and bubbled, changing into a full length dark sword. It raised its sword-limb into the air and hacked it down. William defended with his tiny dagger but the length and strength of the sword made him release his weapon and hopelessly take a gash at his arm. The shadow raised its sword in the air again and slashed it down. William plucked a plank from the side and blocked with it. But the blade broke it into pieces and swiped his shirt and parts of his skin.

    By instinct, he threw what¡¯s left of the plank on the shadow¡¯s face and ran to the side. But after three steps, a piercing pain shot through his left calf, making him trip and fall flat on the floor. His eyes bawled as he clawed his way forward, eager to leave. But he couldn¡¯t move. He looked back. The shadow had pinned him with its sword right at the flesh of his leg.

    The shadow towered over him with its black body and created another sword from its other hand.

    His eyes locked on its two pits, he whispered with quivering lips, ¡°Please, let me¡ªAAAAAHHH!!!¡°

    It had punctured its free sword right between his shoulder and chest while howling in delight. A snicker passed across the shadow¡¯s face as it wobbled its blade, stretching the wounds wider, playing with his bleeding muscles. Crying out, William blinked back tears as blood gushed from his injuries.

    The shadow bent down, so its blank face was right above his. Immediately, he felt light headed as his body was robbed of its strength and will. The adrenaline pumping on his veins seemed to diminish, replaced by a cold eternal calm. His eyes flicked to the side where the sword stuck through his chest. Bits of white light escaped his open wound and glided right at the sword, disappearing into the body of the shadow. His breath began to shallow as his capacity to cry out withered. His legs began to feel numb as did his arms.

    Right when his body craved for sleep, a dark hand wrapped around the shadow¡¯s neck, yanked it away from William¡¯s ailing body and flung it across the room.

    Another shadow had appeared.

    His attacker immediately got off from the ground and charged at the new shadow. It swung its sword across and met a newly formed axe from the intruder. His attacker started shrilling and squealing, talking in a language and a form that had no comprehensible words. The second shadow replied with the same unintelligible babble, flinging looks and gestures at William and a sleeping Garret.

    If William had the strength, he would have moved from where he lay, took Garret with him and escaped while they were distracted. Or he would have stabbed one in the back and kicked the other. But he could neither do those things, nor could he yell for help. He was spent.

    Weapons returning to regular arms, the two shadows stopped bickering and made their way to him.

    It was his time. William¡¯s head sided to his right. ¡°-elp¡­pleaz¡­hel¡­¡± he breathed out into the darkness, into the shadows that clung on his deathly hour.

    One shadow stopped right before Garret and the other walked in his direction. When the footfalls of second shadow ended at William¡¯s face, a dark, deep voice said, ¡°Grimnir, defile.¡±

    The shadow on Garret squealed in terror as it flew in the air and hit the wall. The second shadow turned back to the source of the first¡¯s terror when the intruder hacked its arm with a scythe.

    A man in dark robes held a six-foot tall iron rod, decorated with skulls and bones. At both of its ends was a crescent moon blade pointing in opposite directions; if it was viewed from afar, it was shaped like an almost circle with a cut right through its center. One of the blade shone silvery white and the other a blacker shade of ash.

    The severed arm on the floor quivered as the shadow screamed in a vengeance. It raised its still working arm and changed it into a sword. Charging, it flung its makeshift blade across. The intruder blocked with its scythe, sidestepped and hacked the white side of his weapon on the shadow¡¯s leg. As the shadow released another howl, the man twisted his weapon in his hands and beheaded his opponent. When its head fell from its body, it and all of its other parts burst into ashes.

    Howling, the second shadow had recovered and leaped onto the man with two axes from its limbs. The man blocked the first strike and stepped back. The shadow didn¡¯t let down, striking, swinging and charging. When the man¡¯s back tapped the wall, the shadow cried in near victory as it slashed its double axe down on him. But its blade only hit the floor, flinging bits of wood across. The shadow turned from left to right, wondering where the intruder had gone. As it stood straight, the man fell from the shadows of the ceiling and landed with its scythe slashing through the shadow¡¯s body. The second the man¡¯s blade connected with the floor, the shadow burst in a fog of ashes.

    The heavy air that weighed on the room dissipated as the red light from outside disappeared.

    The man released a breath; its scythe glowed and changed into an iron key hooped in a large silver ring. He gazed at an unconscious Garret before coming to a wheezing William. ¡°It has been a while since I¡¯ve heard a soul-cry. You¡¯re lucky I was tailing the other damonen, otherwise I would have come later,¡± he said.

    William stared at the tall man, sensing a familiarity from him. Because of the robe that cloaked him completely, he could not see much of his features, only his perfectly sculpted chin and pinkish thin lips. ¡°Who are¡ª¡° He coughed the rest of the question, blood bubbling in his throat.

    The man¡¯s lips pursed. ¡°You do not know me? Yet you called for me? How can¡ªah¡­ Your family must have hidden knowledge from you. I suppose knowing is dangerous. Especially when you live out here in the open.¡±

    Knowledge? What was he saying? He tried to speak but an insistent coughing came out instead.

    The man stared at William for moments and then smirked. ¡°You remind me of someone, but I can¡¯t seem to recall who. Never mind. I suppose you know not of any spells yet.¡± He reached a hand in to a shadow on the ground as it passed through and appeared where William¡¯s dagger was. He gripped the hilt and plucked it from the floor, passed it through the shadow and held it in front of him. He opened his mouth as an ancient language escaped his lips, full of stuttering and crackling of the tongue.

    It reminded William of the chants his father does under the basement or sometimes outside of their house. He had asked once what it was about, but he was greeted with another round of beatings. From then on, he knew well he should keep his mouth shut when his father did something he didn¡¯t quite grasp.

    At the end of his chant, the man kissed the blade with his pinkish lips and returned it to William¡¯s holster. ¡°I bestow you my blessing. Now you can defend yourself properly,¡± he said.

    ¡°Who,¡± William managed to say.

    He knelt down and whispered, ¡°I am your patron. Your Bringer. Your herald. I am Death.¡±

    ¡°Death?¡± His eyes shone in glee and excitement though he didn¡¯t know why.

    ¡°Yes. Now sleep, my child. You need to recover.¡± Death placed a hand on his forehead as a calming and soothing presence washed over William. He felt the clutches of sleep and exhaustion take over him.

 3: Dances, Music and Mayhem

    Dressed in a black floor length gown and a bodice, decorated with rubies and diamonds, Queen Mary I was on the knee-rest with her head bowed down and her chin touching her clasped hands. The light from the afternoon sky seemed to bless the queen through the windows of the cathedral as she prayed for herself, her kingdom and her people. She lifted her head and gave a yearning look at the crucifix, and ended her prayer with the sign of the holy trinity.

    She rose onto her feet and turned to a thin-framed man in full red robes with a red biretta on his head, kneeling before her. ¡°Cardinal Lawce, I had never thought the church would send you.¡± Her pencil eyebrows perked up as her puffy lips moved to one side.

    Cardinal Lawce stood by her acknowledgment, revealing the jeweled cross laced on his neck and his diamond grey eyes piercing through his spectacles. ¡°Neither did I Your Majesty. Though may I say, you are looking most splendid,¡± he said.

    The queen¡¯s three ladies-in-waiting gathered to her side and fell behind her as she walked forward to the cardinal. ¡°Your Eminence, I am sure we have more important discussions ahead of us rather than useless exchange of flattery.¡±

    ¡°As always, Your Majesty cuts to the chase,¡± said Lawce with a smile.

    ¡°You know I dislike wasting time. Especially my time.¡±

    ¡°Then may I have a word in private Your Majesty?¡±

    ¡°Walk with me then.¡±

    He bowed and offered his elbow. Mary slipped a hand in between as they started out of the church and into the castle grounds. Her ladies followed three beats behind.

    ¡°Your Majesty, the Pope sends his thanks for returning Catholicism as the national religion once again,¡± said Lawce. ¡°You have our utmost gratitude.¡±

    ¡°No thanks necessary, Your Eminence. I only undid the blasphemy inflicted by my ghastly father and continued by my ever loyal half-brother.¡± Her tone turned to a blade, cutting through the words she spoke

    A wry smile came onto his face. ¡°As for your request for help to properly set and return Catholicism to your kingdom, the clergy will be arriving late next week.¡±

    Her left brow rose. ¡°I do not understand. I thought Your Eminence was supposed to be that help.¡± She stopped in the middle of the field of grass and faced Lawce.

    ¡°I am a man of God Your Majesty, but you know my talents aren¡¯t suited for reformation and rebuilding what once was.¡±

    Mary¡¯s eyes darkened; her thoughts fleeted to a darker side, where no common man dares unravel. ¡°Then this could only mean it¡¯s about the demons.¡±

    ¡°Yes and no. Though the Pope did say I am to investigate damonen movements, I am afraid there is a bigger issue than that.¡±

    She flinched at the word damonen when the cardinal had spoken of it. She disliked the term and preferred the word demon; the way bishops and other clergymen coined it. For that is what they are¡ªevil corruptors of human souls. ¡°What is it then?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Settlers,¡± his voice grew lower and raspier. ¡°Ever since the start of this year, settlers have been increasing in number. They have been roaming around our lands more frequently and have been spreading their demonic powers.¡±

    ¡°How can that be? Haven¡¯t they been given their own land to live in?¡±

    ¡°Most of the older ones stay at Telios,¡± answered Lawce. ¡°But the younger tend to explore more and extend their reach further than they are allowed to, breaching treaties and contracts in different countries. Their motives are unknown as every kind has a different sense of malice and deviousness. But we assume that their goal is but one¡­¡± As Mary raised a brow, he said lastly, ¡°The desire to rule over us.¡±

    ¡°Then I trust the church is doing all there is to quell this starting war?¡±

    ¡°The church has sent emissaries such as me to places where the threat is sighted,¡± stated Lawce as they started moving forward again.

    ¡°And the Bringers? What do they have to say about this?¡± she asked, clutching Lawce¡¯s arm again.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡°Inconclusive. Some think it is only natural, others think it should be stopped while others care not.¡±

    Her eyes narrowed as a quiver escaped her lips. ¡°What would you have me do then? Seeing as the only power you may require does not wish to rally under your banner?¡±

    ¡°Perceptive as much, Your Majesty,¡± said with Lawce with a grin. ¡°I ask for your cooperation in this matter, lending your soldiers to the fight whenever need be. And any help you may impart. Of course, I shall lend my services to your cause as well.¡±

    Her eyes fluttered in glee. It was another chance to be on the grace of God; another chance she could put her motherland back into His arms of mercy and prove their worth as children of the Lord. As the fight against the Protestants ensue, then so shall the fight against evil will commence. ¡°Your Eminence, I think I may just have what you need. The very existence of which these settlers live on shall crumble beneath our feet.¡± Triumph, justice and a hint of wickedness reveled in her smile.

    ¡°I will bet three shillings,¡± was the first words William heard when he awoke, staggered upright and gasped for air. Flashbacks bombarded his head of Garret, the shadows and Death. He snapped his attention to himself, patting his arms, chest, and legs and back, pressing for pain and inspecting his wounds. Though covered with bandages, the wounds felt healed and itching, not the usual after pain and soreness he¡¯d expected.

    ¡°Looks like the nugget-head¡¯s awake,¡± said a man with a golden hoop through his left ear and a curly short brown mane for hair. He was the same man who played the viola in the town performance earlier.

    ¡°Raise you then,¡± said the other man with a bandana sitting opposite the table. The man who played the lute tossed money next to a pile of cards and smiled testily at his opponent.

    In a plain dress, the girl who danced with the tambourine entered the room carrying a basin of water in her arms. Her black curly long hair swayed to the sides, creating shadowed silhouettes against the light from the fireplace. ¡°Do not tease him Paolo. He has yet to recover his wounds.¡± She sat on a chair right next to William, who lay on a bench, and placed the basin on the floor.

    ¡°Who are you? Where am I?¡± asked William, looking around a plain room with only tables and benches and large chests near the door outside.

    ¡°I am Isabelle,¡± said the girl with a mixed accent, hinting a bit of Spanish-esque and something else. ¡°That tall one with the bandana on his head is Mikael, my brother. And that loud obnoxious one is Paolo, my cousin.¡±

    ¡°She meant loud, obnoxious and devilishly handsome,¡± corrected Paolo, dropping his card on the table and collecting all the coins that had stacked up in the middle.

    ¡°Are you cheating?¡± asked Mikael to Paolo. ¡°You know I hate cheaters.¡±

    ¡°I do not cheat my dear cousin. I am simply the best on card games in the whole of Egypt.¡± He waved his hand joyfully as if celebrating his title as the best card player.

    Mikael slammed his fist down the table. ¡°Again. And this time, I deal.¡± His hands collected the cards and started shuffling them.

    ¡°Your death cousin,¡± he smiled mischievously.

    Isabelle sighed. ¡°Do not mind them. When they play cards, they tend to be overly dramatic about it.¡± She immersed a damp cloth inside the basin of water and reached for William¡¯s arm but he snapped it back.

    Fear roused in his eyes, gripping his arms tightly and looking at Isabelle accusingly.

    ¡°Do not worry. I am here to clean you. I will do nothing to hurt you,¡± she said softly, stretching her hand towards him.

    William looked at the hand then back at her dark brown eyes. He sensed something different about her, the same way he sensed something different about his father compared to other people. With a nod of her head, he placed his arm at Isabelle¡¯s palm and tried to ease the tension in his body.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t so bad was it?¡± She patted his arm with the cloth, cleansing the parts where it wasn¡¯t covered.

    He shook his head.

    As she continued above his arm and the next, she said, ¡°You are in the town¡¯s inn. We found you lying in an alley on our way here. Do you have a name?¡±

    ¡°William,¡± he croaked.

    ¡°Do you have a house? A mother or a father?¡±

    He nodded. ¡°A father.¡±

    ¡°If you have a father and a house, then that means you are not a beggar. If you are not a beggar, then what were you doing in a dark alley, pounded and looking like a dead dog?¡±

    In the alley? I was attacked by shadows and Death saved me. Was that all just a dream? ¡°I was robbed and I fought back,¡± he lied.

    ¡°A nugget-head, in a doll¡¯s body challenging a thief,¡± joked Paolo. ¡°We never get one of those these days.¡±

    ¡°Paolo, stop,¡± said Isabelle.

    ¡°Is that yours?¡± Mikael pointed a chin towards a sack at the corner of the room.

    ¡°Yes sir,¡± answered William quickly. ¡°I purchased it at the market.¡±

    ¡°Weird taste you have there. Wonder what you¡¯ll do with mandrake roots and dragonfly wings,¡± he stated. ¡°Are you sure you were robbed?¡±

    ¡°Yes sir.¡±

    ¡°Hmmm,¡± he sounded. ¡°No one was around when we saw you. Nobody would have noticed you if it not for my sister¡¯s keen eyes.¡±

    Isabelle placed the cloth on the basin and stood up. ¡°That is that. I will be cooking now, you may continue washing yourself if you want.¡± She stretched her arms and walked towards the other door.

    ¡°Cooking?¡± asked William.

    ¡°For supper,¡± she answered. ¡°I make the best lamb stew.¡±

    His eyes bawled.

    ¡°Is something wrong nugget-head?¡± asked Paolo. ¡°You don¡¯t like lamb stew very much? I can say I feel the same way when Isabelle¡¯s making it.¡±

    ¡°No stew for you then,¡± grumbled Isabelle.

    ¡°Oh come on dear cousin. Don¡¯t be so sensitive.¡±

    William dragged himself from the bench and dressed with his tunic and shoes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I have to go. It is very late and my father will be angry. Thank you for your help. I am most grateful. I will find a way to repay you. Thank you.¡± He crossed the room and rushed out the door.

    ¡°See what your cooking¡¯s effect on men are,¡± joked Paolo.

    Isabelle sent dagger eyes on him.

    ¡°Gin,¡± screamed Mikael. ¡°Finally!¡± His hands grabbed the stacked pennies and hugged them into his sid

 4A: Burning Witches and Moving Shadows

    Under the shade of the night, William eased the door to his house open and crept in. He backtracked to the door and slowly shut it. The moment the door closed, light illuminated his surroundings and he followed its source.

    At a table with a lantern by its side, Bapholin stood with its arms on its sides. ¡°And the prodigal son returns. Where have you been?¡± it asked.

    ¡°I-I got robbed.¡± He affixed his gaze on the floor.

    It rested its weight on one leg. ¡°Robbed? Robbed means your belongings were taken. Why do you still have those?¡± It gestured on the supplies.

    ¡°I fought back.¡±

    ¡°Say that again,¡± he requested disbelievingly.

    He placed the sack beside the beast. ¡°I fought back,¡± he repeated with more force and power.

    ¡°Does fighting back you come home the next day?¡± It began to inspect the contents of the sack.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you disappear all of a sudden?¡± he retorted.

    ¡°It¡¯s good you ordered the beetroot, we¡¯ve been running low,¡± the beast answered, continuing to rummage through.

    Seeing the interrogation was dismissed, William retired on a chair, leaned back and then tensed again. ¡°Is father asleep?¡±

    ¡°He hasn¡¯t come home since yesterday,¡± answered Bapholin. ¡°I am to return by his side at tomorrow¡¯s dawn. You are supposed to behave yourself until he comes back. Well supposed to.¡±

    A tremendous amount of relief washed over him and calmed his senses. He had feared that Radulf was waiting for him, and he had been beyond angry. He had not known what to say or how to explain things to him. He could not even explain it to himself.

    Bapholin pulled out a scroll from a pile of books on the table. ¡°Your reward,¡± it announced.

    His brows knitted. He straightened his back and picked up the piece of parchment. His hands felt the rough and decrepit texture of the paper as if it would crumble at the slightest touch. ¡°Is this¡­¡± His eyes darted to one sentence after the next, digesting the meaning of the words and symbols written on each line. He had it. He had something worth trying¡ªworth starting.

    ¡°I don¡¯t quite get what the big fuss is about,¡± stated Bapholin. ¡°So I got you the incantation you wanted. It wasn¡¯t at all that difficult.¡±

    Ever since he was younger, he thought of his father to be a grand magician. A secret wizard that hid from the eyes of everyone. One morning as he came to, his father had been at the basement. And like any other day, he went to him to ask for his chores and errands to run, but instead he had found him with a corpse lying on the floor. He had spoken a language¡ªwords with extended vowels, meshed consonants and a lot of crackled noises of the tongue¡ªand the dead came back to life. It was moving, talking and telling its secrets before its death. It had been like it had never died at all. At the sight of it, other people would had been yelling for fear and panic, but he was not.

    William knelt in-between steps of the staircase on his descent, and seemed to watch something magnificent, like turtle doves released into the air or a grand birthday celebration of one of the nobles¡¯ sons. As his father conversed, prodding and inquiring on a million things¡ªwhich he did not care for the details¡ªhe birthed a dream. A dream that someday he would be the one conversing with the dead. That he would be the one who would sow life back together again and ask its deepest, darkest secrets.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Ever since then, he would watch from afar at his father¡¯s amazing works. He had seen him conjure an animal made of bones, let blood swirl and cover a wound, see through the eyes of a soul¡¯s past and more. Of course, most of the times, Bapholin caught him lurking in the shadows trying to get a good look out of the next wondrous spell. If it had not been for the beast¡¯s laziness, he had already been chained and whipped for eavesdropping.

    And now after all those times he stood in the dark, wishing, dreaming, he could finally create magic¡ªeven just a bit of it. ¡°What does this do exactly, Bapholin?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Simple protection spell,¡± answered the beast. ¡°Easy to do and useful when you are or someone else is in danger. Not everyone can do it of course.¡±

    ¡°Not everyone?¡±

    The beast went to a pile of rags and lay on its belly. ¡°No mere person can. But of course you can. You are the son of Radulf Howe, a powerful magician. In your veins lie the same powers. Ooohhh. Magician. Scary,¡± it yawned.

    ¡°I¡­can do this?¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just give it a try? Tired with all the questions. I need my nap.¡±

    His mind buzzed as his heart beat fast. It might not be the biggest and grandest spell there was, but it was definitely a start¡ªa start towards the path of becoming a true magician.

    William opened his mouth to ask another question but stopped instantly when a cadence of shouts and flickers of light distracted him. He crossed the room to the window and peeked. Across the hillside, a number of people had gathered at Joan Altier¡¯s house, carrying torches and pitchforks. They were shouting words that were too far to comprehend.

    ¡°Looks like a riot. Maybe it¡¯s another hanging,¡± said Bapholin appearing by the window sill.

    William knew Joan Altier because of her chicken recipes and pies. A year before, when she moved into her home, she¡¯d ask him to come over to taste her home made dishes, and he instantly loved them. From then on, when she¡¯d make something new, he¡¯d be invited and be taught how to remake it. Though she and his father were rough acquaintances that couldn¡¯t stand each other, William made it a point to always visit her and offer his help for any errands a man would be best suited for.

    ¡°I have to go see what¡¯s going on,¡± he said as he grabbed a cape from the hanger and left the house.

    When he reached Joan¡¯s home, she had rusting chains around her ankles and wrists, and the queen¡¯s soldiers were dragging her through a tight angry crowd. Rotting vegetables and fruits flew from all angles, hitting her everywhere¡ªin the face mostly.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± asked William to no one in particular.

    ¡°The soldiers are rounding out Protestants,¡± said a man with freckles all over his face.

    ¡°Joan¡¯s not a Protestant. She¡¯s a devoted Catholic,¡± protested William. ¡°She always goes to mass on Sundays.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, hear she is. But she¡¯s a witch too.¡±

    ¡°A witch? Her?¡±

    ¡°A witch she is,¡± repeated the man. ¡°Heard she put a charm on a nobleman. They¡¯re keeping his name under. Must¡¯ve been a nasty one.¡±

    ¡°Joan won¡¯t do that. She would never¡­¡° William saw the end destination where Joan would lead to: a caged carriage. Inside, three people with drooped and familiar faces stared back at him, the Ameries: Catherine and her parents. But what caught most of his attention was the fourth person who sat on the back with her arms around her knees. Elise. Her usual cheery demeanor had been snuffed out and was replaced with a heartbreaking blank gaze.

    The man with the freckles was blabbering something else he had heard when William made his way around the hating mass and straight to the carriage. He was only a few feet away when a soldier blocked him and held a hand for him to stop.

    ¡°Not any closer,¡± the soldier warned.

    ¡°Let me talk to her,¡± pleaded William. ¡°She didn¡¯t do anything. She¡¯s not a witch.¡±

    ¡°That is for the queen to decide, not you. Go back, boy.¡±

    He put his face right next to the soldier. ¡°The queen? The queen doesn¡¯t know her. I know her. And she¡¯s not a witch.¡±

    ¡°I said go back,¡± shouted the soldier.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you listening? I said she¡¯s not a¡ª¡°

    The soldier shoved him back, drew his sword and pointed it at him. ¡°Go back,¡± he said sternly.

    Bapholin popped right next to the soldier and yawned, ¡°I¡¯d do as he says. He looks serious.¡±

    William turned from the serious face of the soldier and his blade to Elise in the cage. She found him looking at her and forced a bright smile. I¡¯m okay, she mouthed.

    The carriage door opened as Joan was pushed inside with the rest of the criminals. When the door shut, the soldiers mounted their horses and began to move the carriage forward. The townsfolk followed behind with a slow, peaceful march, but with snarling and hateful faces nonetheless.

 4B: Burning Witches and Moving Shadows

    At the town square, the people had spread out and circled the high platform where the executions were to be held. William searched for a priest but only found two executioners with a black cloth over their heads. Then he remembered they were hanging Protestants and witches, neither of which was worth a vigil or a prayer.

    Catherine Amerie was first to be led up the platform by a soldier of the queen. She wore a plain white dress, obviously from the night¡¯s sleep, obviously fitting for her death sentence. Her plain face had tears running down her cheeks. With each drop, the soldier moved her until they made it to the first post. He passed the rope on her head, carelessly brushing her ruffled hair and wet face. It slipped down to her neck and held her intact.

    Her father followed next, stepping wobbly on the staircase up the platform. His head was down; his bony face showed no signs of expression, just crackling movements at the sides of his teeth. The soldier ushered him to the second post, yanking his chains forward. When they were there, the chains started shaking. It wasn¡¯t because the soldier was taking them off; it was because Mr. Amerie¡¯s was shivering involuntarily on his knees, hands and teeth. And yet from all the show his body¡¯s displaying, his face didn¡¯t unravel a single emotion¡ªfear, despair, panic¡ªnothing.

    Third to follow was the mother. The tightness of the bun in her head made the roots of her hair almost seem invisible. It showed the veins of her head and increased the sharpness of the woman¡¯s face. She was a woman of faith. A woman of God. And she believed that after this life, she and her family would safely be in the arms of God. She believed it was a necessary sacrifice, to pave a time when Protestantism shall return to the country.

    As the soldier bound the mother¡¯s neck to the rope, William grew perplexed. His insides stirred with bubbling acid and bile. He wanted to throw up. Though he didn¡¯t acknowledge the coming of death, he felt fear. Fear for the family. Fear for their deaths. He knew, by law, they should be punished. Like his father would when he committed mistakes. But the punishment didn¡¯t feel like it suited them. Like it had been too grand, too big for the crime of simply practicing a religion¡ªdoing something that queen didn¡¯t like. It then cleared in his head. It wasn¡¯t fear at all. It was injustice. The reason they were being hanged were wrong.

    By feel, he whispered, ¡°Death wasn¡¯t supposed to be forced. It should be granted.¡± At his last word, a small part of the crowd gasped.

    The family of three: the mother, father and their daughter, lay hanging on a rope from three posts with their feet over air. A minute had passed as their bodies slackened; their faces grew blank; their eyes empty; and their souls, driven away.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    A soldier began cutting the ropes down. When a body dropped on the ground, another soldier checked the corpse¡¯s mouth and noses, to see if they were still breathing. The soldier waved an okay signal to the parents, but shook his head on Catherine¡¯s body. She had survived.

    When the crowd saw the signal, William held his breath.

    ¡°They should have just let her hang longer,¡± someone growled.

    ¡°She¡¯s a protestant,¡± breathed another. ¡°They want to.¡±

    The executioner held onto Catherine¡¯s hair and dragged her from where the platforms were to the makeshift bonfire that had been started even before the townspeople had arrived. The second executioner handed a bolo to the first while carrying one for himself. They positioned themselves at Catherine¡¯s head and feet. The first pulled Catherine¡¯s left arm up and hacked her armpit. He continued swinging the bolo until the bone was completely off and the arm was free, tossing it to the fire. Afterwards he went for the left leg. The second executioner pressed the tip of the bolo in her chest and created a cut from her breasts down to her naval. When the insides were free, he hacked an organ off and tossed it to the fire as well. They continued on and on until there was nothing left of her to burn.

    Back at the platform, new ropes were tied to the beams of the posts, ready to cease another life.

    The riot of the townspeople gathered closely at the plaza. Now that the Protestants were dead, they howled in excitement for the real show: the death of the witches. But at a corner alley, not far from where the platform was raised, Isabelle prepared in her tights, strapping her rapier and dagger around her waist.

    ¡°And the plan is?¡± asked Paolo, stepping next to Isabelle. He tested and stretched his longbow with his armguard on his right.

    ¡°Same as before,¡± answered Isabelle. ¡°We wait for the Cloak. Go in. Take the settler and retreat.¡±

    ¡°And leave everyone wond¡¯ring why suddenly the lady has vanished before their eyes?¡±

    ¡°She is a witch. She is expected to do something marvelous.¡±

    ¡°Isabelle, don¡¯t stray from the objective,¡± sounded Mikael with a deep tone. ¡°Remember, I can only call the ones nearby. If they happen to be more than a dozen, it is out of my hands.¡±

    ¡°I know, brother. You don¡¯t have to remind me.¡± She pulled her hair back and tied it with a blue lace.

    ¡°Then I won¡¯t remind you again, that the settler is your target. If anybody else gets in the way, you cannot and will not save them.¡±

    ¡°I know already. We¡¯ve already done this tens of times.¡±

    ¡°Then why do I have the need to keep reminding you every time we do this?¡± Mikael clutched his lute closer to him and strapped it around his shoulder.

    ¡°Because I¡¯m a young girl and young girls usually are rebellious and wouldn¡¯t take no for an answer?¡± Isabelle grinned.

    ¡°Now cousin I think you have yourself mistaken for a boy, not a lady,¡± suggested Paolo.

    ¡°A Telios woman. Not an English one.¡±

    ¡°Hmmm¡­that actually makes more sense.¡±

    ¡°You two, get ready,¡± sternly ordered Mikael. ¡°I¡¯m about to start.¡± He pressed his fingertips on the head of the lute, raised his other hand up and brought it down to the strings¡­

 5A: Dancing with Shadows

    ¡°I don¡¯t wanna die. Mercy. Mercy,¡± screamed Joan with tears wetting her wrinkled face. She looked at her executioner and the two men that dragged her towards the first post. ¡°Mercy. Mercy. Please. We are all children of God. Please. Do not do this. Have Mercy,¡± she howled over and over to them until she had reached the post and the rope was tied on her neck.

    ¡°God? You are the devil¡¯s daughter,¡± screamed a woman as a rotten apple came flying from the crowd and hit the witch.

    ¡°Go back to hell,¡± screamed another.

    As the crowd roared their judgments, William¡¯s head felt far removed to the summer when his father first took him to Elise¡¯s store. His small fingers crumpled tight on his dad¡¯s worn-out trousers; but his eyes lit from the dozens of small eyes in a jar, the snaky shapes of a brain, the collection of clean bones in a basket, and the various more oddities that sat on the shelves. The adults discussed something about the weather and a good place to get spider eggs¡ªor something of the sort.

    Instinctively, he had let go of his father and peeked at the jars, sizing, observing and hoping to open one of them¡ªor maybe all of them. So he did. He grabbed hold of the eyes and freed the lid. A pungent smell of vinegar, garlic and something festering attacked his senses, startling him and dropping the jar. The glass shattered into pieces as water and eyes splashed all over the floor. He looked down on his wet shoes and up at his father whose face blazed in disappointment and anger. His father walked up to him and held up a hand, ready to swipe it on his face. But Elise stepped in between them, knelt on the young boy in front of her and smiled.

    She handed him three different-sized teeth bound by a black string. She mouthed something about something about being a kid was okay and it wasn¡¯t his fault. He just had to be careful the next time around. He promised then that he would, and so she kissed his forehead and everything went well. His father proceeded with his business, and he waited at a corner. That was before. Now, everything was not well. Elise was already at the platform being ushered to the noose that will end her life, and he had been drawing closer to her.

    A hand squeezed his shoulder. ¡°William, what do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± asked Garret.

    ¡°Garret? How¡¯d you¡ªyou were captured¡ªyou were in trouble,¡± he babbled.

    He squinted and then his face grew stern as his hand on his shoulder tightened. ¡°Don¡¯t go,¡± he begged.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to free her,¡± stated William, free of all hesitations that momentarily arrested his mind.

    ¡°And how exactly are you to do that?¡± There was a tremor in Garret¡¯s tone.

    He peered straight at his dark blue eyes as all the pressure in his face gathered to his tight lips. ¡°This is Elise, Garret. I am not going to leave her to die,¡± he reasoned.

    ¡°Do you know what they¡¯ll do to you?¡± He pressed his head closer to his. ¡°They¡¯ll kill you for helping a witch. They¡¯ll gut you like they gut Catherine.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care. She needs my help,¡± he almost screamed.

    ¡°I care, William. I care what happens to you,¡± he shouted back.

    ¡°I said I don¡¯t care,¡± yelled William as Garret held him back with his taller frame.

    ¡°Let go.¡± William shoved Garret and swung his fist right onto his jaw.

    Garret wobbled back, clutching his jaw.

    ¡°I told you, let go,¡± heaved William. He faced his back toward them and ran straight to the platform where the soldier had just placed the rope on Elise¡¯s neck.

    The soldiers had cleared out the platform, leaving only the two witches left. The first one kept on crying and invoking God¡¯s name as the people kept throwing rotten food her way while Elise stood there with vacant eyes and a broken faith.

    ¡°Clear out,¡± commanded a soldier as one of the executioner moved to the lever for the trap doors.

    The townspeople ceased their heckling and throwing, anticipating the witches¡¯ deaths.

    Shoving people from left to right, William penetrated the crowd with difficulty, locking his sight on the death show. Men and women flared in anger when they were brushed aside as he cut a path for himself. ¡°Stop. Stop. Stop,¡± he muttered as he inched closer and closer.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Final words?¡± asked the executioner.

    ¡°Though my neighbors has forsaken me. The Lord will receive me,¡± quoted Joan.

    Elise bowed her head and closed her eyes as the executioner held on to the lever with both hands.

    Pulling and grabbing people upfront, William tore through the mass like a hunter chasing his prey through the forest. He had to stop them. He had to make it. He had to save Elise. She wasn¡¯t a witch, a sinner or a protestant; she was simply a woman who owned a shop of trinkets. She did not deserve to die.

    The lever was pulled.

    The trapdoor opened as William tripped and slammed to the ground. He hurried and tried to draw his feet in and get up, but the momentum and the last line of people prevented him to. His sight flashed to the platform. Elise was wide in shock. Her lips and throat struggled for air. Her face began to lose color. It would only be seconds until¡­

    ¡°Noooooooo,¡± screamed William.

    And as if the heavens had heard the howl of the young boy, its dark dawning skies changed into velvets of crimson and blood. The paling moon shifted its glossy white glow and hid in a dark shadow where the only radiance seen was its circled light. And the sun that was almost rising abandoned its post and disappeared.

    As if stolen the will to speak, William glanced at the skies, thinking if this was his fault. But complacency of thought didn¡¯t last long as he noticed the townspeople¡¯s movements¡ªor in this case, lack thereof. They were frozen, stagnant and motionless. Their faces were stuck on a last expression they had¡ªsadness, fear, anger. They were like models of portrait depicting the last days of a heretic. Not one moved. Not even the soldiers, the executioners or anyone at all.

    Silence had captured the eeriness of the blood night.

    Then, an arrow wheezed through the air and cut the hanging ropes on Elise and the first witch. Their bodies released onto the ground consecutively. In a rush, Isabelle strode towards the platform, unsheathed a dagger and crouched before the first witch. She cut the bounds on her neck first then the ones on her wrists.

    Breath entered the witch as she focused on her savior. ¡°I¡­Isa¡­Isabelle,¡± she breathed out.

    ¡°Joan. Are you fine?¡± Isabelle asked, cradling her in her arms.

    ¡°Save¡­her¡­¡± Joan pointed over to Elise lying on the ground.

    Isabelle followed her finger and gulped. ¡°But she¡¯s¡­¡±

    She squeezed her arm the best she could. ¡°Save her¡­¡±

    She carefully laid Joan down and moved towards Elise¡¯s body and cut the ropes on her neck and wrists. She then rebound back to Joan and held her up. ¡°It¡¯s done. Can you stand?¡± she asked, sheathing her dagger back.

    She nodded as she stood carefully up with Isabelle¡¯s help. ¡°Your brother?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s at the back playing,¡± she answered in a hurried voice. ¡°We have to move before¡ª¡° Her attention was placed above her, like something was sparkling in the sky.

    The hair on William¡¯s skin stood. Cool air burdened their surroundings, like the season of fall suddenly shifted to winter. And at the center of the sky, a dark cloud appeared from nowhere, fanned down to the ground and hit it with a splat. And in seconds the tendrils of the black smoke retreated into its center and began to show shape. It spun on itself around and around until it grew bigger, towering about six feet tall and likened itself to the shape of a man. A man made of complete black matter without the skin, the muscles, the face and anything else human.

    It lifted its hands and stared at it with where his eyes would probably be if it were present. Open and close, open and close¡ªits fists kept repeating it, trying to feel its limbs. Then, the front of its head formed curves, spaces, lines and depth. And in a second, the shadow had a face and it turned to the nearest soldier and grinned, showing black fangs. It extended its arm forward and it passed right through the frozen soldier¡¯s chest. No blood or wound was visible; it seemed as if the hand passed through a surface of water. Specs of white light then emerged from the chest of the unknowing soldier and ran through the hand and arms of the shadow. And in one bright flash, the soldier¡¯s eyes lost focus and he dropped dead on the ground as the shadow released its hold on him.

    The shadow laughed, pleased by its massacre. It attended to the next human and began its feast yet again.

    With Joan¡¯s arm by her shoulders, Isabelle helped her walk away, taking slow soundless steps. ¡°Come on Joan while it¡¯s still busy,¡± she huffed.

    ¡°I knew God was on my side. He has sent me you,¡± exulted Joan.

    ¡°You could thank your God later when we get the¡ª¡° As they curved to the corner of the platform, another shadow stood by their front.

    It tilted its head to the side, wondering what the two were. And then, it grinned and lunged at them. An arrow flew through the shadow from the side and then it burst into ashes.

    Paolo stood a couple of feet away on a longbow stance. ¡°That was a lousy job Isabelle. It almost had you.¡± He clicked his tongue and shook his head.

    ¡°It would be a lousy job, if you don¡¯t help us,¡± shouted Isabelle.

    ¡°Oh rightio.¡± He moved towards them but stopped abruptly.

    Dark tendrils of clouds erupted from the pores of the grassy lands and swiveled in front of Paolo and formed into a man, another shadow. Its face formed, smiled devilishly and reached for him.

    Paolo jumped back and landed on his feet and then knelt on one knee. ¡°Sorry I only date ladies with an actual face.¡± Loading an arrow from his back, he stretched his bow and fired. The arrow hit the shadow¡¯s core and burst into ashes.

    ¡°Paolo,¡± shouted Isabelle. ¡°Some help here.¡±

    He aimed to the shadow emerging from the ground near Joan and shot it at the arm, maiming it. He followed through with another one on the chest and killed it. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to come to me. They¡¯re coming in too fast.¡± He focused on another shadow as it reformed from thin air on his right and vanquished it.

    ¡°What in blazes did Mikael do? Call on the whole horde?¡± Isabelle pulled on Joan¡¯s other arm tighter around her shoulders and moved forward.

    Around the town¡¯s plaza, in almost every corner, in almost every large spacious area, clouds gathered and shadows emerged from the air, earth and mud. They veered their hungry black stares over the unknowing people frozen in time. There were already five victims since the first had shown, and the number was growing.

 5B: Dancing with Shadows

    Hiding amongst the crowd, crouching low, William watched the massacre in awe. He watched a man¡¯s soul leave his body through his nostrils and mouth, an old lady¡¯s life slip past her through her leg down to a shadow¡¯s mouth, and a young boy¡¯s body hurled to a wall after being emptied. It was a sight that somehow William felt fascinated about like it was one of the shows the travelling performers did. But his admiration abruptly halted when a shadow purposely strode over where Elise was lying.

    His head cocked from left to right. When he found a sword of the dead soldier lying on the ground, he immediately found his strength back and crossed the distance, throwing caution to the wind.

    As soon as the shadow was in a lunging distance of Elise, William interjected and swung the sword clumsily on the shadow. The shadow reformed its limb into a double sided axe and blocked it. A mouth with fangs formed from the head of the shadow and then howled. It pressed its axe onto him and swung it across as William dodged back and stumbled on his butt; his sword was thrown off of his hands, swirling down the ground a feet off. The shadow towered over William and reshaped its axe into a sword. It lifted its sword up and plunged it down toward him.

    Before it could reach him, he rolled to his back and staggered up. But the sword bit into his calf and pressed itself forcefully. William screamed from the pain. The shadow pressed the sword through the open wound as it profusely bled and he yelled even louder. Then, William felt numb. First from the wounded leg and then it reached up to his waist. He felt lighter and queasy. His strength fleeted from him slowly and cold took its place.

    The shadow pinning William down, immediately stopped from devouring William¡¯s soul as a rapier punctured through its chest from the back. It then blasted into ashes.

    As William lay on his back, Isabelle stepped forward and offered her hand. ¡°Next time you hit a damonen, strike it at the heart or the head. Or gut it. Whatever strikes your fancy.¡±

    He pulled himself up slowly with her help. ¡°Damonen?¡±

    She raised a brow. ¡°Yes. Damonen. The black thing that was just devouring your soul.¡±

    ¡°You mean that?¡± He pointed to Isabelle¡¯s back.

    She swiftly spun to her back, arching her rapier and slashing the damonen behind her across the chest. As it blasted into ashes, she mocked, ¡°Yes. That was a damonen. A demon who devours souls. Fun, aren¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°Fun? They eat souls. And that¡¯s fun?¡± He stared at Isabelle weirdly.

    ¡°Mhmm. Come on. Before more come.¡± She clasped his hand and dragged him forward, away from the demons¡¯ feast.

    Limping hastily, William veered from his front then back. ¡°Wait. What about them?¡±

    Striding fast, she badgered, ¡°We can¡¯t help them. They are too many. We¡¯re only here to save Joan and you and that¡¯s it.¡±

    William snapped his hand back from her. ¡°No. We have to save Elise. We have to save my friends.¡±

    ¡°Friends?¡± she asked incredulously. ¡°Mortals aren¡¯t your friends. As far as our race is concerned, they are only of use when we need something from them. Other than that, they are nothing.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand what you¡¯re saying. But regardless, they need my help. And I won¡¯t sit by and watch them die. Help me or not. I don¡¯t care.¡± He showed his back to her and limped on.

    Jogging from the alley, Paolo stopped beside Isabelle. ¡°Joan is with Mikael in the caravan. Where is he going?¡±

    ¡°Getting himself killed,¡± scowled Isabelle. ¡°Do me a favor and get the other witch aboard the caravan.¡±

    ¡°Sure. But don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re going to do something stupid again?¡±

    ¡°Stupid? Maybe if I had my¡ª¡°

    Paolo handed her a tambourine. ¡°Thought you¡¯d need this.¡±

    ¡°And Mikael said I was reckless.¡± Her lips pursed into a grin.

    ¡°Just helping out my dear cousin.¡±

    She sheathed her rapier and grabbed her tambourine.

    ¡°No need for thanks.¡± A smug appeared on his beatific face.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    She smiled appreciatively and went after William. The moment she reached him she shoved her rapier at his chest and said, ¡°Hold that for me will you.¡±

    ¡°What do I do with this?¡± asked William.

    She continued down to where the damonens gathered. ¡°When a damonen comes you strike with it.¡±

    ¡°But what about you?¡± he shouted.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. I have this.¡± She rang her tambourine.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to play them a song?¡± he asked aloud.

    She stepped up on the platform, leveled her focus on all the swarms of damonens and breathed deeply. Shaking her tambourine, she reached her hands up in the air and clapped the head when it was on top of her. When the jingling stopped, the damonens stopped their devouring and descent on hopeless humans and stared at her.

    Taking another breath, Isabelle then leaped forward shaking the tambourine and clapped, she returned back and clapped again. She then pranced to the right and left, jingling the tambourine in her hands and clapping every time her foot stepped on the platform. Her lips swayed left and right as her shoulders and back swayed against its movements. Her long curly black hair danced and swirled with every jump and glide she made with her legs and feet. The jingling never stopped with her rhythm and sway. It bounced and clanged as her bottom palm and fingertips hit the head of the instrument. She swirled the tambourine over her and around her, keeping the beats of her feet intertwined with the jingling sounds.

    The damonens lurched as they stood; their heads careened left and right, seemingly allured by the jingling sounds and the graceful dancing. From weapons of blades, pitchforks and axes, their limbs reformed back to regular hands and arms as their solid black form waved in tendrils of clouds.

    Isabelle continued her dance and chimes, performing it more aggressively and ferociously. The beats were stronger, faster like a tornade rampaging houses at its path. The more her performance continued, the more the shapes of the damonens seemed to collapse and dissipate, like smoke vanishing through air. They kept swaying back and forth, losing a chunk of their black flesh to air as the song kept going. She then stood on her tip toes and started rotating, shaking her tambourine around her, twirling over and over. In the same motions, the damonens¡¯ cloudy bodies swirled over and slowly disappeared, eaten by the air through they were made of. And in one final stroke, bringing her hands in a clap against the head of the tambourine, the shadows were no more than specs of dust evaporating in thin air.

    In a thump, Isabelle fell on her knees and hands, breathing heavily as sweat shone all over her face and body.

    Snapping from awe, William rushed over the platform and knelt next to the alluring dancer. ¡°Are you fine? That was amazing,¡± he said.

    Isabelle nodded to him and gave a soft smile, leaning close to his shoulders, out of breath and out of strength.

    ¡°Truly amazing indeed,¡± a rough voice said.

    ¡°Who said that?¡± asked William aloud.

    A man in full red robes, spectacles and piercing grey eyes came forward from the frozen crowd and bowed his head in greeting. ¡°It is I Cardinal Lawce. One of God¡¯s most loyal servant.¡± A thin smile spread through his lips.

    ¡°A Cardinal what?¡±

    ¡°William, run,¡± breathed out Isabelle.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I said go.¡± She tried to stand up, but she fell sideways as William caught her.

    ¡°And as God¡¯s loyal servant, I shall enact what is lawful and righteous. By sin of calling upon the demons through which you were born from, you shall be exorcised as they have been countless of times.¡± He pressed a hand on the crucifix on his neck and stretched his other hand straight at the two.

    ¡°I can¡¯t leave you alone,¡± William said to Isabelle.

    ¡°You have to leave. NOW,¡± she shot back.

    Lawce closed his eyes and breathed in a prayer. ¡°Lumen Dei ante me.¡± A sword of light dropped from the heavens and struck the platform floor behind William and Isabelle. ¡°Lumen Dei post me.¡± And then another sword hit beside the first. ¡°Lumen Dei super me.¡± A third crashed on their left. ¡°Lumen ad Deum praeter me.¡± A forth on their right. ¡°Lumen Dei in me.¡± And one last swooped down on their front.

    Five swords of light stood in a pentagram surrounding the two, trapping them in a radiant cage.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on? What are these? What¡¯s he going to do?¡± A touch of alarm coated his words.

    Isabelle clutched her tambourine in her hand and stood straight. She jingled it to her side and ended in a clap. The swords vibrated slightly and then she fell to her side again; and again William caught and steadied her.

    ¡°Petty resistance is prohibited,¡± sounded Lawce. ¡°And now your due punishment.¡± He concentrated again and opened his mouth to start a prayer. But his concentration broke as an arrow cut the air and shot one sword of light, shattering it into lit glass pieces.

    ¡°And another rat joins the fray,¡± mutters Lawce.

    From the side, three more consecutive arrows shot the swords, each taking one out. ¡°Not a rat, Your Eminence, but an angel with the prettiest face of them all. Not like you can relate with being handsome. I mean what can a priest do with it when he can¡¯t even use his mandhood.¡± Paolo fired another arrow at the last sword and broke it again into pieces.

    ¡°Demonic inbreeds should learn to curb their tongue,¡± uttered Lawce as he shifted his hand straight to Paolo.

    ¡°Before you continue your¡­holy limp rites,¡± a sly smile crossed Paolo, ¡°I should warn you that the Cloak is fading already. And pretty soon people will see our demonic ways and your holy enactment of judgment, Your Eminence.¡±

    Above, the tender scarlet skies withered from its bloody hold as the skies shifted to its normal hue. And the moon retreated to its white reflective glow.

    Lawce fixed his spectacles and smiled maliciously. ¡°¡¯Til next time then. I¡¯m sure there would be lots of opportunities.¡± He spun around and disappeared into the crowd again.

    Paolo rushed over to the platform as he held Isabelle by the arm as William had the other. ¡°Quickly, before people come to,¡± he shrilled, helping her walk away.

    As the people started to move again, William chattered, ¡°I don¡¯t understand any of this. What is going on? Who is he? Why are people frozen? What are those black things?¡±

    Paolo gave Isabelle a tired deadpan face.

    ¡°He¡¯s new. Probably even thinks he¡¯s human,¡± Isabelle said to him.

    ¡°Of all the men you pick up, you save the stupid and weird ones. A real nugget-head,¡± he blubbered.

 6A: Drunk History Lessons

    ¡°Puta imprudente casi nos cuesta la vida,¡± shouted Mikael along with other profane words that vibrated through the door as Paolo shut it behind, leaving him and Isabelle screaming at each other.

    At the bedroom, Paolo laid two cups of warm milk on the table. ¡°I apologize for the two. They get so loud when expressing their love for each other.¡± He handed one to William opposite him and sat down.

    William sipped the milk and let it bring heat to his shivering body. ¡°Do they always get like that?¡± he asked.

    Removing the cup from his mouth, he mused, ¡°Nothing to worry about really. It¡¯s normal.¡±

    He tear himself from staring at the door and focused back on Elise as she lay on the bed asleep. There were dark marks on her neck and wrists, proof of the hurdle she had overcome. At the very start, William didn¡¯t believe her to be a witch. Not even that it exists. But after what he had seen, heard and experienced, he wasn¡¯t so sure about anything anymore. Maybe there were more mysteries in this life than his father¡¯s deathly encounters.

    ¡°She¡¯ll be fine,¡± Paolo broke the silence. ¡°Her soul wasn¡¯t touched so her body will recover normally. But her mind¡­not too sure about that.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± He had a lump on his throat.

    ¡°She almost died. Her queen betrayed her. Her loved ones abandoned her. Most people would breakdown and be in shock. It might take her days to recover.¡±

    ¡°As long as she heals, it doesn¡¯t matter how long,¡± he found himself saying. He started making a plan for her: He would ask Radulf to house Elise for a time when this place becomes unavailable. There was enough space in the house for at least one more occupant. But if he says no, that would be difficult. But then again, he could always hide her in the basement. Or in the stables and hand her food and other necessities.

    ¡°How about you?¡±

    ¡°Me?¡±

    ¡°You said this was all new to you?¡± Paolo asked with a gesture of his hand.

    His sight lowered to the wooden floors. ¡°It is. I do not understand any of it. There are things that I thought were impossible and things that I thought may happen. And there are things I thought were magic and things that are miracles¡­what I¡¯ve seen today¡­what are those things? Those dark men?¡± He looked up at him with inquisitive eyes.

    ¡°Those men are not men,¡± declared Paolo sternly. ¡°Those are demons shaped like men with monsters for an appetite. They destroy anything in their path and eat any soul they come upon.¡±

    ¡°Where did they come from?¡±

    He sipped another drink and placed it down. ¡°Another world.¡±

    ¡°Another world? That sounds¡ª¡°

    ¡°Ludicrous I know,¡± cut Paolo. ¡°But it is what it is. Nobody actually knows where they come from. Or what their world is like. All people know is that when the Cloak arrives, they come with it.¡±

    ¡°The¡ª¡°

    ¡°Let me save your breath for you.¡± He held up a hand before he could speak a word more. ¡°The Cloak is a happening much like a rain or a snow would occur. It is as natural as the sun would shine on a day and the moon at night. The only difference is that like other natural occurrences, it brings disaster with it. When the Cloak comes and envelopes a place, a town, a village, like it had before, it stops time. Everything and everyone is frozen in that moment. Like they have been sung a lullaby, the only difference is they are still awake. When it arrives, that solely means that demons arrive with it. They prey on any human with a soul and devour it. Like any living thing, they come to eat.

    ¡°When they are done¡ªor more usually¡ªwhen there are no more lives left, they leave, leaving the empty bodies on the ground. As the Cloak leaves, they take the corpses with them to who-knows-where. The Cloak protects and hides the damonens from mortals, so if eaten, they wouldn¡¯t feel the pain.¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    William¡¯s interest glided on one word. ¡°And how about settlers?¡± He had heard the three of them talk about settlers on their way back.

    ¡°Aaah, so the nugget-head doesn¡¯t all have nuggets in his head,¡± a sly grin appeared on Paolo¡¯s face. ¡°Settlers are vastly different from mortals. They are exceptions, a different race if you will. Like an Egyptian, a Chinese, a Spaniard and an Englishman. All people from different parts of the world, but still human.¡±

    ¡°So where are they from?¡±

    Paolo opened his mouth to speak but then shut it again and smiled. He went out of the room for a moment, and when he came back, he had, in his hands, a mandolin. He raised a hand gracefully in the air, strummed the strings and started in song:

    From whence the firsts had past and men grew children and hunted for meals

    A red sky appeared and bathed their lives with cloaked kills

    Shadows devoured and sang in pleasure while men agonized in silent whimpers

    But after every vanishing deaths, came creatures of beauty and powers

    Some say they are angels, devils or even gods

    They came with no knowledge of this world or where they have been

    All they yearn is to procreate and increase their odds

    And the sons they bore was masked in different skin

    One that is neither god nor mortal, but better

    A joining of both, a creature called settler

    When he finished, Paolo made a content smile. ¡°Songs always brings a woman closer to you. Especially if it¡¯s from the heart, remember that.¡±

    Brushing the last comment aside, William asked, ¡°Then the first settlers came from the Cloak as well?¡±

    ¡°As my mother had sung to me and her mother has to her and her mother to her.¡± He placed the mandolin down and sat on the chair.

    William thought if the damonens came with the Cloak, and so did the forefathers of settlers, then would that mean that the settlers were sons and daughters of demons as well? He considered asking that question, but he didn¡¯t want to sound rude or inappropriate. So he asked, ¡°Why does the priest hate you?¡±

    ¡°Hate?¡± snorted Paolo. ¡°The priest doesn¡¯t hate us. The priest despises us. The Catholic Church believes that all settlers are fruits of damonens. They think we¡¯re all demons.¡±

    His focus slowly turned to his. ¡°So¡­are you?¡±

    He returned his question with a blank look. ¡°Once again, it popped back into a real nugget-head. Do I look like I eat humans for breakfast?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­no?¡±

    ¡°There it is. Anything else infesting your brain besides maggots?¡±

    ¡°Just one more thing,¡± he added. ¡°If the settlers are the only people who can move through the Cloak, then how come the priest can move in it too?¡°

    The door opened and Mikael came in with a reddened face and ale in hand. ¡°Have you asked him yet?¡±

    ¡°Ask about what?¡± asked Paolo.

    ¡°What kind is he.¡± He threw a gulp in his mouth and placed the cup down the table.

    ¡°I was just getting there.¡±

    He shifted his big brown eyes to William. ¡°So what are you lad? A mystic? An animus? Nephilim?¡± asked Mikael.

    William searched for Paolo for an answer.

    ¡°Balls.¡± Mikael drank another gulp. ¡°Let me make it easier. Do you read minds? Change into a skunk? Or a camel?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­are you¡ªI¡¯m not. Am I?¡±

    Paolo snitched Mikael¡¯s ale and drank some. ¡°I don¡¯t think he knows. He is oblivious to the obvious. Imagine a settler not knowing what a Cloak was?¡±

    Mikael hit his cousin on the head and grabbed his ale back. ¡°So what is he then? Doesn¡¯t look like a nephilim. A nephilim would know what a Cloak was since it was born with all the mind stuff.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me,¡± said William.

    ¡°How about a minstrael like us?¡± asked Paolo to Mikael.

    ¡°A minstrael?¡± asked Mikael. ¡°I don¡¯t think the boy has ever picked up an instrument in his life.¡±

    ¡°Sirs,¡± said William with a louder voice.

    ¡°Animus then?¡± continued Paolo.

    ¡°He should have changed when he was attacked by a damonen,¡± suggested Mikael. ¡°It¡¯s their basic nature to change.¡±

    ¡°Aha,¡± said Paolo aloud. ¡°A laquenta.¡±

    ¡°Laquenta?¡± asked Mikael with a raised brow. ¡°Tonto. Laquentas have been extinct for a century already.¡±

    ¡°But ponder on it,¡± he insisted. ¡°The boy doesn¡¯t have abilities, but he can walk through the Cloak. Laquentas don¡¯t have special abilities like he does.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a¡ª¡°

    William rose to his foot and slammed the table with both of his hands. ¡°Sirs, I beg you not to converse of me so casually while I am here in front of you. Let me make it clear: I am not a demon, I am not a damonen and I am most certainly NOT a settler.¡±

    Paolo parted his lips to speak but Mikael put a hand to his shoulder and said, ¡°Lad, your eyes can see demons eating souls, your skin feels the heavy air when they come, your body motions through a frozen moment in time; tell me if you are not a settler then what are you? Only a demon can do so otherwise. And you are no demon.¡±

    ¡°What about the priest? What is he? I might be the same as he,¡± he quickly said.

    ¡°Has the pope blessed you? Do you ask for God¡¯s help? Can you bring forth swords of light at your will? Do you call upon God¡¯s judgment to cast your own?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he said uncertainly.

    ¡°Then you are not alike.¡±

    ¡°But¡­I¡­¡±

    ¡°You said you have family before.¡±

    ¡°A father,¡± he breathed out.

    ¡°Can your father perform certain abilities that you do not see from others? Are you not allowed to speak of anything or ask questions when he does something you do not understand?¡±

    Those moments and glimpses of deathly wonders he had seen. All those times he thought his father was a grand magician. He never had thought that there was another name for a magician. And that the real possibility that he might be just like he.

    ¡°Go home,¡± said Mikael with a hardened tone. ¡°Meet with your father. And ask him.¡±

    He found the weight of Mikael¡¯s eyes too hefty to hold, so he focused on Elise.

    ¡°Do not worry about her,¡± encouraged Paolo. ¡°She can stay until she recovers.¡±

 6B: Drunk History Lessons

    ¡°William wait,¡± shouted Isabelle as she came running after William from the inn. She stopped at his front as he turned towards her. ¡°You forgot this.¡± She handed him the dagger Elise gave.

    His eyes lit up. ¡°Thank you. I thought I¡¯ve lost this.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a big deal. You left it the first time you were with us,¡± she said. ¡°Where you of to?¡±

    ¡°Home. Your brother says I have to ask my father what I truly am,¡± he answered grimly.

    ¡°I¡¯ll walk with you then. I need to buy some things in the market.¡± She started forward.

    He looked at her quizzically and then followed suit. ¡°May I ask a question?¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± She regarded him with interest.

    He looked down, strangely finding it hard to look at her directly. Maybe because of her confident presence or her exotic beauty. ¡°What¡¯s it like?¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡±

    ¡°Being a settler? What¡¯s it like?¡±

    She let her gaze waver afar and then shrugged. ¡°Not anymore different from being a mortal or a protestant. You have responsibilities, familial obligations. You¡¯re chased after by the church because they think you are a demon. You cannot leave homeland, because you would be breaking the treaty of the church. They think we eat humans as the damonens do.¡±

    He cast a dark face and tried not to let her see his reaction.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Nothing,¡± he smiled grimly. ¡°Its¡­just¡­I grew up thinking that my father was a magician. And that maybe someday I would be like him. Powerful. Magical. And, now that I know what he really might be¡ªwhat I might be¡ªI didn¡¯t think it to be real.¡°

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel like all your dreams have come true?¡± guessed Isabelle.

    ¡°Something like that,¡± he mumbled. ¡°I thought of it as that, as dreams, and dreams never come true. At least for people like me¡ªerrand boys. And I don¡¯t know if I really¡­¡±Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    She said in a more jovial tone, ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to slander the essence and pride of being a settler. I do quite enjoy being one than being a mortal. Both have pros and cons. But I¡¯ve come to enjoy what I am and disregard the bad parts that come with it. I simply accepted them and moved on. The Catholic Church would still hate anyone who breaks their holy laws and principles despite who broke them. And being a settler doesn¡¯t change that fact.¡±

    He was different, he began letting himself think that. But what now? ¡°So what does being a settler change?¡±

    ¡°I imagine nothing,¡± she answered sincerely. ¡°You would still be like anyone else, having the same problems, the same solutions and the same answers. And like everyone else, things will only change if you want them to. If being a settler makes you feel that you are special, then be special. But if not being a settler made you feel less of yourself¡­doesn¡¯t it make you wonder how much of yourself you thought was good even before you knew?¡±

    He considered her words and then said, ¡°I¡¯m not saying I don¡¯t think of myself as good or less¡ª¡°

    ¡°Really? Because you sound like someone who always thought of others first and himself last.¡±

    He didn¡¯t let himself think about what she said because the truth had stung. ¡°Am I to simply accept what comes from my father¡¯s mouth? Whether I am a mystic, a miseryiel¡­¡± he recited from what he had heard from Paolo and Mikael.

    ¡°Minstrael,¡± she corrected.

    ¡°That or a mortal?¡± he said.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she answered with a slight purse of her full lips, which drew more attention than it begged to for William. ¡°We are, who we are. We can spend our whole life denying or not liking who we are, but the fact remains we are who we are. And if I am a minstrael, then I am. And I will be proud of it no matter what.¡±

    He tried to not to focus on her lips when she talked, but glancing at her eyes made him feel queasy in the stomach. ¡°I think that makes sense¡­¡±

    ¡°It does.¡± She touched her arm which William felt burn slightly. ¡°You said it so yourself, you wished for this. You wanted this to come true. So be strong and accept the truth of who you really might be.¡±

    He nodded, looking down, feeling her touch on him.

    She stopped at a crossroads. ¡°I think I already know what kind you are.¡±

    He lit up with an inquisitive look.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to spoil the surprise,¡± she chuckled.

    ¡°Why not? It would save me the trouble of asking.¡± And a sound lashing if things didn¡¯t go his way.

    ¡°No. Sorry. You would have to ask him yourself. I¡¯ll see you around.¡± She smiled brightly and then curved a path.

    ¡°Ah Isabelle,¡± he called out.

    ¡°Yes?¡± She stopped and gave him an inquisitive look.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯ve seen damonens.¡± His eyes were to the ground.

    ¡°Come again?¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t robbed,¡± he confessed. ¡°My friend was captured by two and I was almost killed trying to free him.¡±

    ¡°Damonens don¡¯t take prisoners, they feed,¡± she said knowingly.

    He shrugged. ¡°One tried to eat me. But the other one stopped him. I don¡¯t know why. They were fighting, arguing.¡±

    ¡°Where did this happen?¡± A rigid tone escaped her voice.

    ¡°At an abandoned house to the north out of town,¡± he recounted. ¡°Not quite sure. Anyway, I have to leave now. My father is really waiting for me. Thank you again. And sorry if I lied to you.¡± He smiled and hurried on his way.

 7: The Loving and Unloving Father

    Memories filled William¡¯s dreams¡ªmoments in his life where he had seen his father in motion of magic. Those times he brought the dead back to life to speak and communicate with. Those times he talked freely with ghosts and spirits of the dead. And those times, when he was small and he had asked him what he was doing before he knew better than to had asked in the first place.

    Memories of whipping and lashing flooded his subconscious as his body jerked and twitched from reflex. He felt the hard grip of his father on his leg like it was all too real. But when his back landed on the stone floor of his room, he gasped awake only to find his father was indeed gripping his healing leg and was dragging him out the door. He instinctively jerked a kick on the hand holding him, letting him go. But as soon as his foot landed, a hand grabbed him by the hair and pulled it until he could feel an abrupt tear on his scalp.

    ¡°You dare kick me,¡± hissed Radulf.

    His tongue rattled. ¡°No so-sorry, fa¡ª¡°

    His pull was so strong that William was forced to stand, avoiding his knees being scraped. Radulf took him down the basement through a floor trap door. The second his father stepped onto the base of the staircase below, fire blazed on torches hanging on corners and beams. Inside the cobweb infested ceilings and stone floors and walls were stone sarcophagi and jars and crates full of the dead¡¯s ashes lining the halls. Barred cages with human, animal and unknown bones came into view as they took a left, and the stench of decay and past feces and urine mixed with blood overpowered his senses. He was used to the smell. His mind understood them and was prepared, but somehow whenever he came here, his body still reacted vile from it. The corridors and halls of the catacombs extended farther and wider, deeper and lower; but Radulf immediately stopped at an almost hollow cage¡ªexcept for the chest at the side and the chains in the middle.

    Radulf tossed William inside the cage as his body slammed down on the cold floor. Radulf clasped the chains on his ankles. ¡°Stand up,¡± he growled.

    Rousing, his body jerked with recollections of being housed in the cell. He pushed himself against the wall and extended his arms up to the air. He had gotten this notion that if he was obedient to his father¡¯s words, he¡¯d be punished less; or maybe he would forget the whole thing and forgive him. Maybe.

    His father reached for the chains above and clasped them on William. He took out a leather whip from the chest, stretched it and tightened it with his hand.

    ¡°Father, please,¡± breathed out William.

    Radulf snorted. ¡°Please what?¡±

    ¡°Please father, I haven¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ªdone anything wrong?¡± shrilled Radulf. ¡°Then what is this?¡± He pulled out Elise¡¯s gift dagger over to his face as William¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°I would have thought so.¡± He set the dagger down and whipped him once; the leather slashed a strip of his left arm¡¯s fabric and skin.

    Wincing from the sudden burning pain, he shouted, ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything wrong. It was a gift.¡±

    ¡°Gift? For you? Lies!¡± He hurled the whip for the second time, cutting across William¡¯s tunic in the middle.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Its true father,¡± howled William with lips shaking and eyes wide open. ¡°It was a gift from Elise. She gave it to me.¡±

    ¡°Elise gave this to you?¡± he asked with a mild astonishment.

    ¡°When I bought your supplies, she gave it to me. I refused. But she insisted I have it,¡± he explained, biting down the burning of his open wound. ¡°She wanted me protected from bandits and ruffians.¡±

    ¡°She¡­granted you¡­protection?¡± He spoke every word as clearly as possible.

    ¡°Yes father,¡± he breathed out again.

    He stared hard at his son with a bored expression, laying his hand down. When a small ounce of relief waved back on William¡¯s chest, Radulf gripped the leather whip tightly and slashed him three times, making him cry out.

    ¡°Lies, lies, lies,¡± screamed Radulf. ¡°I thought I had told you never to lie to me again.¡± He administered two more lashings.

    His lower lip bled as his body glistened with dirt, grime and blood. ¡°Father, please. I¡­would have died, if I had not anything to protect myself.¡±

    He held the whip in place and gave him a few moments to breathe.

    ¡°There was a monster. It captured¡­Garret¡­¡± he spat blood on the last word.

    ¡°Monster? There are no such things.¡±

    ¡°It was a shadow man,¡± he squeaked. ¡°It struck me with its blade made from its own hand.¡±

    ¡°Then why are you still here breathing? Talking.¡± His eyes darkened. An equal sin to disobeying Radulf¡¯s orders was letting authority or anyone of power belittle and manipulate you just because they could.

    ¡°I¡­I¡­¡± He gulped and simply dared not speak any further. If his father found out about the meeting with Death, how many slashes would he achieve for lying? He knew his father was a no non-sense man. He thinks and ponders almost everything he does. Like every place he goes to, every act he does and every person he meets had purpose. He could not fool an old wise man with the illusions his mind¡¯s eyes saw.

    ¡°Stop stuttering and tell me what happened,¡± shouted Radulf.

    He opened his mouth to speak then bit his lip, lowering his head even more, wishing he would somehow disappear.

    ¡°William.¡± He sent another cut on his other arm.

    ¡°Stop. Please,¡± he gasped.

    ¡°Then speak!¡±

    His insides stirred as his body rekindled with the familiar wounds and the would-be scars. And then, he told him. He told him a man in black came from the shadows and saved him and Garret when he was about to be killed by the shadow. He told him about Death¡¯s blessing on his dagger and something about a soul-cry, which made his father purse his lips. But never did he ask for the reason for his accursed life¡ªthe word damonens, settlers and his own identity in question.

    And when William had finished, Radulf had a look in his face that was indiscernible. ¡°Did you introduce yourself to him?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± replied William.

    ¡°Did you tell him about me? Or anything of me?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Your soul? Did he mention anything about it?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Sparks. Light. Changes about your soul. Anything?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Then the mask is working then. Didn¡¯t think it would work, but it did,¡± murmured Radulf. ¡°Did you tell him where we lived?¡±

    ¡°No¡­I couldn¡¯t speak,¡± he finally reasoned. ¡°I¡¯ve told you everything I saw. I passed out right after he touched me.¡±

    ¡°And where did you find yourself when you¡¯ve awoken?¡±

    He struggled with himself to try and tell the truth, but the pull of pain and another full night of whips and wounds tugged him back. ¡°The same place he had left me.¡±

    Radulf¡¯s eyes narrowed as he clutched the whip on his hand tightly. He then threw the whip back on the chest and walked out of the cage, leaving William behind.

    With a big breath, William slumped his back on the wall and allowed himself to collapse the tension around his body, taking care his tunic didn¡¯t press too hard on his open wounds. When he held his head back to rest, he heard Radulf argue with someone else. Bapholin must have appeared at his beckon. He heard shouts and curses full of anger and rage. His father was furious. But he didn¡¯t know if he was furious because he believed the illusions he said he saw or because he didn¡¯t believe.

    Then the shouting and arguing had stopped and whispers followed after, and then silence¡­and then crying. He wondered who was sobbing. It couldn¡¯t be his father, he had never shown weak emotions like that. And Joan was no longer visiting. Then, a drop of salty water grazed his lips. He smiled. Then cried even more.