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NEW AUTHORS SHOWCASE |
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13-11-03 (p12)
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The Plague (Dark Fantasy) By Nicole Louw |
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Terror is reborn after 15 years...
A deadly path of evil has begun to spread across the lands of October North. It has no name and is simply referred to by its victims as the plague.
Following the path of this plague is Orlan, the skillful magician from Brigtum — the Magicians Council — along with the young farmer named Rramis, who holds so many secrets of his past, that slowly those that once trusted him turn away.
Their mission: to stop the deadly spread before it has the chance to take over the entire kingdom; but this plague is no more than an evil plot to change the land to its biddings.
Rramis’ past catches up with him and he soon discovers himself no longer trying to stop the plague, but to kill its cause.
a desire to free the kingdom...and the mind
The Plague:
Chapter 17: The Forest of Dazel The journey that followed was a quiet one; they only spoke when it was necessary. Days and nights came faster than they had thought possible and the land before them seemed emptier and sadder than ever before. The river of Sibling was in full flow, strange as it was in the fall, but the blue water was more than a gift to the company. The sound it made was like some deep and long lost peace that returned to them, and even though the company remained there for only one evening, it healed them all in some spiritual way. A few days after the river, they came across a herd of Terbonies peacefully grazing on the prairie. Tasho pricked his ears and gave a loud snort as the herd thundered off towards the horizon. Rramis patted the creature’s neck, wondering whether people would ever consider training the wild beasts as long as the unicorn remained. Then again, would people risk their necks to break them even after the unicorns left the land for good... like the fairies? Snow had begun to drop when they reached the woods of Dazel more than two week after Kaoras’s burial, though the wound in his brother’s heart had healed little. It was early winter now, and golden brown leaves of oak that had fallen gently to the earth now covered the forest floor in a great leaf~y bed of shades of gold. Against the trunk base of tree was the first white powder of the season, crawling up a short distance on the bark. Birds chattered in the trees above and around and occasionally the party stumbled into a herd of deer that darted off among the trees. It was a peaceful place and Rraniis felt a deep burden lift from his shoulders. It had been too long a time since he really felt safe. The others felt the same; even Vairaph began to whistle a happy melody and Orlansmiled more often. It was at that moment that the journey no longer bothered them, but there still remained a fear of what they were going to find at the end of it all. At night, they sat huddled about the fire, realizing how much they were missing the company of the Wood-Elves, as they always had something to say or laugh about, which was something they all felt they needed. Following the same routine as Tila had done for weeks, the woman cleaned Rramis and Orlan’s wounds and changed the bandages. They were healing well and Tila was thanked a number of times. Surprisingly it drizzled lightly later that evening, but it was good rain. The forest sang with droplets as they fell on the leaves and leaf-covered earth, tapping a simple melody. Later they were lulled to sleep by the fur away songs of the few remaining Wood-Elves of Dazel and even heard the unique echo of gnome drums, to their surprise, as gnomes preferred more of a rocky surrounding in which to build their dwellings. Saroak was silent during these times. He could not help but think of his brother buried at the foot of the cliff so far to the south. One day, he promised himself, one day he would return to his brother’s grave and attend to it in the elves’ proper manner. He would plant flowers on the grave, engrave the elum’s name on the cliff fuce behind and sing elfish songs to him on moonlit nights. He was not going to let his brother be forgotten. It was past midnight and the forest was silent except for the nearby frolicking deer and singing of crickets. Rramis lay awake on his back, resting his head on Tasho’s belly as the creature rested nearby and the sound of his unicorn inhaling and exhaling beneath him was soothing and comforting. He was watching the stars appear and disappear among the branches and few leaves above as winds swayed the trees. There came the rustling of leaves and the man sat up briskly, alarmed. Orlan was seated with her back to a tree keeping watch. “It was only the wind,” she whispered to him with a smile. “Go back to sleep.” “I wasn’t asleep,” he replied softly across the fire. “You should sleep. Your mind needs the rest. It is important.” Without arguing he lay back again, pulling his cape over him. Tasho brought in his legs to offer his master better protection from the chilly wind, but then, just as Rramis raised a hand to rub the creature’s neck in thanks, he was aware of two yellow eyes watching him from beyond the firelight. Whether it was wolf, goblin or orbin, he couldn’t tell. All he knew was that through those eyes were Phyrexian glaring at him evilly. Rramis shuddered and within the same instant, the glow vanished and the woods seemed still and peaceful once again. |