A Plague of Shadows
Read A Plague of Shadows Online
Authors: Travis Simmons
Sneak Peak of The Darkling Tide
Copyright © October 2014 by Travis Simmons
The Harbingers of Light Book One:
A Plague of Shadows
Published by:
Wyrding Ways Press
Edited by:
Wyrding Ways Press
Formatting by:
Wyrding Ways Press
Cover Design by:
Najla Qamber Designs
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means – by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual places, events, and people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The dream was always the same. She was standing in a room, or at least she thought it was a room. Abagail could sense walls around her, a confined space, but outside of that, she couldn't tell for certain that she
was
in a room. It was dark, completely and utterly. She could see nothing before her, save the fleeting fears her eyes played out on the screen of blackness that surrounded her, pressed in on her, and corrupted her.
Abagail wasn't sure why the darkness scared her, why the emptiness all around her frightened her more than any nightmare of ghoul or fiend, but it did. In all of her nineteen years of life, she’d never been more scared. There was a nothingness with the darkness, a stillness and emptiness so complete that if she thought too long on it, Abagail was sure she would lose part of her mind to the darkness.
But more than the darkness, it was the assuredness that she was alone here that frightened her most. It felt to Abagail as if she were the last living person in all of her homeland, O. In fact, it felt like she was the only being left alive in all of the great black expanse that fell over O when the sun set.
In the distance Abagail thought she saw a point of light, and she started walking toward it. But it might have been an imagination of her mind, because as she drew closer, the light pulled back, traveling further away from her. What was more, at times the light seemed to vanish altogether, and Abagail wondered if she was actually seeing a light at all.
Then came the sound of tinkling water. A babbling brook somewhere nearby. The light in the distance pulsed violently, and as it did, the flare illuminated a thread of water that ran toward Abagail, between her bare feet, and off into the distance toward some looming shadow behind her.
The pulse of light grew and grew until noise of its coming filled her ears nearly deafening her. The light roared around her, flaring so bright and chasing away the shadows in a blinding pain that seared her eyes. Abagail fell to the ground, the tendril of water swelling higher, engulfing her knees and soaking into the green linen dress she wore. The wind made by the noise rustled her short black hair.
Hands clamped to her ears, Abagail tried to tell herself that the All Father was with her, that he would protect her. But she couldn’t be certain
the All Father really was with her any longer. She clung to her belief and wore it like a mantle to protect her against the noise, the light, and the water that was rushing up around her.
And then it stopped. Abagail knew that it stopped, because she could no longer feel the wind that came with the light. Tentatively she opened her hazel eyes to the clearest, crystal blue sky she had ever seen. Puffy white clouds raced through the expanse, casting shadows across the emerald grass surrounding her and the river she floated in.
Despite being day, there was a light in the sky, like one she’d only heard of in tales. The sun was dancing merrily in the sky, mixing with wavering lights of pinks and greens, purples and oranges. Together they appeared to make a ripple effect as if the lights were waves of water lapping at the sky.
Abagail looked around herself. She didn't know where she was, but she knew that she was at the beginning of something amazing.
Something called from behind her, and Abagail turned to see the most amazing tree she'd ever seen before. The tree rose up out of a well so large she couldn't see the edges of it. Every kind of flower and fruit, every kind of tree that was, had been, or ever would be comprised this towering monolith.
The wind that had come with the light still tugged and pulled at the branches of the tree, and though it was some distance away from her, Abagail could clearly hear the movement of the tree as if it were right beside her. It sounded like the rushing of water she heard in the river behind her home.
Abagail listed backward, and took a deep breath of the fresh air. She knew where she was and what she looked at. She was at Eget Row, and this was the Tree at Eget Row. The birthplace of all the worlds.
But still the tree called to her like a song from the sweetest dream she’d ever heard, and Abagail could do nothing to resist the pull of the tree and the song that vibrated within her core at the sight of such splendor.
She pulled herself out of the river, and up onto the grassy bank. Butterflies puffed into the air at her coming, and she watched their wings beat a path through the warm air. The grass was warm and velvety beneath her feet, and for whatever reason, she didn’t worry that she would cut her bare feet on some rock, or meet with a snake as she might worry about in the wild woods behind her home.
Still the tree called Abagail on.
She hadn’t realized precisely how far away the tree and the well were, but eventually she reached her destination. Standing beneath the Tree at Eget Row, Abagail couldn’t even see the top, it stretched so high into the clouds and was obscured from site. Even the lowest of the branches were well above her, and seemed all but worlds away.
The well surrounding the tree was also gigantic. When she was farther away, the well appeared to be nothing more than a small band around the base of the tree, but now that she was closer, the well was twice her height, and stretched so far to either side as to appear to be a wall, rather than anything round.
But that wasn’t enough for the tree, she was right there beside it, but still the song called her on. She started walking around the well, not sure where she was going, and barely able to take her eyes off the swaying branches far above her. Eventually her feet led her to a set of stairs that wound their way up the side of the well.
Hours it seemed she climbed the weathered stairs, always getting closer to the top, yet seemingly still miles away. But, when she finally reached the top and gazed into the silvery liquid within the well, it reflected a sun that hadn’t moved an inch in the sky.
Abagail wasn’t sure what the liquid was. At first she thought it might be water, but it wasn’t moving like water. It moved much more like the colors in the sky had, almost like air. There seemed to be a lightness to the liquid, and she bet if she placed her hand in the water, that it wouldn’t get wet.
Abagail kneeled down to test the theory when she glimpsed a shadow moving under the surface of the strange liquid within the well. Whenever she saw shadows, it reminded her of what the priests told them of such things. Evilness lurked in shadows. The greed and self-serving nature that had pushed the Gods away had also called about another type of creature called darkling, those who were kin to the shadows.
It was because of these teachings that Abagail retreated from the edge of the well, away from the liquid, and away from the shadow that lurked underneath. But she couldn’t go too far, or she would topple over the edge of the well and likely plummet to her death.
She stood at the edge of the well, teetering on the brink. Abagail couldn’t seem to get her legs to obey the warning in her mind, telling her to run. She considered going back down the stairs, but the song that had drawn her forth was calm now, sated as if it had her right where it wanted her. The song seeped into her body, quieted her racing mind and calmed her hammering heart. Abagail couldn’t understand the sudden change, but she felt right as long as she was doing what the song wanted.
After all, this was the same song that had created Eget Row around her, right? This was the same song that created the holy place from with all of the nine worlds came?
The liquid began to churn as the shadow underneath rose higher, and no matter what the song said, her heart began to race once more. She held firm, however. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She felt at her waist where she always kept her silver dagger, the ore that all darkling detested, but it wasn’t there. Within the dream, she must have lost the dagger somewhere.
But it was too late to look for it, because the shadow was parting the surface of the silvery liquid, and revealing itself to her.
Instantly she relaxed. It wasn’t a darkling after all, but a large, twisted root. As the root rose out of the water it uncoiled, opening up and showing that along its length there were buds of giant flowers of multiple colors.