Phantammeron Book One Page 10

  * * *

  The Shade had ridden upon the winds of Heaven, weakened by her brother’s violent hand. For he had cruelly slain the Endless Night, their blessed father, and stripped him of his powerful wings. She had flown away in fear and desperation, seeking to find Agapor and warn him of her brother’s foul deeds. For she had known that her brother would now go to Phantaia and slay the child himself. But she also knew he would seek to slay Agapor, her beloved.

  Hovering over the vast catacombs of Oblivion’s cityscape, the Shade looked down into the cold depths, searching in the shadows for something. She then descended into the cavernous hollows of the icy city, flying down through a great crack that had pierced the vaulted ceiling of her master’s candlelit chamber. But as she floated into the room she saw no sign of Agapor. She called for him. But only his wormy servants came to her.

  The Shade then demanded to know where Agapor had gone. They cowered before her, telling the Shade that he had set sail a fortnight ago on an ebony ship of dark timbers made, whose black satin sails were borne by the dusty winds of Yana. To the sandy shores of Phantaia had he gone, seeking the lost child, the blessed one. But they knew not if he had perished on the seas. For it was now an unforgiving, gray, and heartless realm.

  The Shade then said it could not be. For he had promised to wait for her. They were to depart this world together, fleeing away into the unknown spheres that lay beyond the ethereal seas that flowed between all worlds. He was in danger now. For without the Wings of Night he could not venture safely into the savage wood of Avaras. Agapor had no knowledge of the forbidden paths that led through it. And the lights there burned all beings not born and sustained by its strange essence.

  The Shade in a panic flew up through the hole in the ceiling of the chamber, out across the gray skies, and flying towards Phantaia. She would find Agapor in those haunted woods, risking the searing lights of Phantaia, and facing terrors of Avaras if she must. By her burning love for Agapor she would gladly perish.

  After many nights the Shade, riding aloft upon the highest winds of Heaven, flew over the dark ocean, looking through the fog below for a sign of Phantaia’s silent shore. But no sign of it came to her. Then she saw a sparkle, as of a distant star floating high above her. She then swung her feathered wings up and above the mantle of Heaven, for but a brief moment. And there above the Arch of Heaven she saw the silver glow of the Mountains of Heaven, whose lonely peaks had lain hidden from all eyes.

  She looked with awe upon the beauty of their ancient summits and saw below them where the stars would lie within the dark mantle of night. She thought again upon her father’s words. But seeing only an empty Heaven—no stars, suns, or even nighttime sheath to hold them—she turned away, dispirited.

  As she drifted below the Arch of Heaven, the clouds suddenly parted and she saw below her the storm-worn beaches of Phantaia. As a clouded vision made crystal clear, they appeared. But as she looked down the beach she thought she saw a strange figure walking from the dunes towards the trees. Slowly she drifted down until she landed onto the white sands of the shoreline. About her the gloomy clouds of the Magra still brewed. And the beach shook with the rumble of thunder in the distance.

  She found footprints in the sand. Yet no ship could she see. But as she followed the trail of prints, she saw where they led into an opening in the black and ominous forest. Here the trees had made a tall archway beyond which the shadowed woods of Phantaia now beckoned. The trees beyond the gaping door seemed to call her in strange whispers she could barely hear. But as she approached the opening, she thought she saw the tattered cloak of a being disappear into the grove of black trees.

  The Shade then grew fearful. For she had been told by the Shadow long ago that beyond the beaches of Avaras the dark spirits of the demonic dead still crept in the trees and rocks. And beyond that sinister wood the burning lights of Phantaia would scorch all creatures of the night in their baneful beams. But she could not stop now. She had to reach Agapor.

  As she approached the edge of the woods, the mists of the twilit wood had descended about her, covering the brighter lights cast from the tops of the trees. Now was the time she could safely enter the wood, as evening had approached. But she must hurry, for soon the fog would retreat and the evil sunbeams shine forth through the trees again.

  The ethereal night of Avaras at first comforted her with its deep shadow. But as she walked into the dark door, a sense of deep foreboding came over her. She sensed that something sinister yet stalked those woods. Something had remained there that did not belong. An unnatural presence with a purpose most pernicious hid under every rock and branch. Even the preeternal night of her father had forsaken this primeval forest. For it had been replaced by the penetrating gloom of much older and more sinister beings, whose cursed spirits now seemed to creep under the earth and within the boles of its ancient trees.

  The Shade crept deeper into the woods until she could see no sign of the skies above. Only a ghostly fog drifted above the rolling wet earth of the giant trees. Suddenly she heard the snap of a limb, and saw a strange hunched figure fleeing before her in the distance. But as she ran after it she soon became entangled in the mud and mire of the rotting black earth. Thick black roots erupted from the leaf mulch about her, thrusting up from the earth, and wrapping her feet and legs in their woody tendrils to entangle her. The slippery black arms of other roots seemed to grasp about in the air, seeking her in the darkness.

  The Shade grasped for the black soil around her, thinking she was free. But even thicker roots collapsed about her waist and legs, dragging her down into the depths of the moldy earth with a determined strength and force. Bent down and pressed against the earth, she clawed desperately in the black mud, struggling to free herself. She then screamed out in terror.

  As she was pulled beneath the surface of the wet mire, she looked up and saw the sinister glowing gray eyes of the witch-like faces of the hazel trees. Peering down at her with their icy stares, they seemed to smile with wicked grins as she took her last gasp of air. But she thought she saw hovering beside the trees the glowing green eyes of a hooded figure, cursing her in her last moments alive.

  Down into the cold earth she was dragged and pulled, until strange translucent bodies of men and women suddenly erupted from below, squirming in the bowels of the black wet earth. Like maggots they wormed their putrid bodies about her own until she was nearly suffocated by them. A hundred hands and fingers began to touch and feel her, as if in their endless orgies they had become aroused by new flesh thrown down into their midst. The Shade, crushed by the pulsating mounds of writhing bodies, gasped for air until she screamed out with her last breath in horror.

  Then from above she felt a strong hand, warm and alive, pulling her up from the surface by her arms, ripping her away from the foul creatures that groped her in the decadent soil. For they had tried to pull her back down into their erotic masses. Suddenly she was yanked free of the roots and earth, and thrown down into a great puddle of mud upon the forest floor.

  Happy to be above ground and free of the demons of that foul earth, she closed her eyes in relief. But in her gasps for air she looked up to see a towering stand of black witch-hazel trees ringed about her, their blood-red eyes swirling and boiling in anger, casting their salient lights down upon the wet pools of mud about her.

  She then saw the tall form of Agapor standing beside them, looking down at her with cold and expressionless eyes. She knew he had saved her. Yet it almost felt like she had been cast into some type of new prison made by the malevolent ring of scowling trees.

  The Shade, covered in the dark putrid mud of the woods, now struggled to get her footing. Looking at Agapor, she yelled out, “You betrayed me!” But Agapor stood over her, gazing down at the helpless figure saying nothing.

  The Shade then saw upon his finger the strange dark ring whose great stone was cast aglow with a dim white light that throbbed and pulsated with glee. Agapor seemed different, changed somehow, obsesse
d, and determined. Had the evil trees of Avaras changed him, she thought? Or was it the strange ring that he had coveted so closely?

  Agapor then approached the Shade, holding out his hand to her, saying, “Where have you been?”

  The Shade smiled, struggling to gain her balance in the mud. “I did as you asked. I went to the Lands of Midnight, seeking the Wings of Night,” she said, as she struggled out of the mud, standing before him. “My father the Endless Night was there, hidden deep in his cavernous tomb just as you said he would be. He was alive until...” Agapor’s dark-ringed eyes then seemed to flame up in curiosity, yet behind them hid some secret.

  “But my brother was there. He followed me,” the Shade said, holding her hands to her face. “He then slew him and cruelly cut the wings from his back. I then saw with my own eyes that the unending darkness that yet fills the farthest corners of this world would be his, and the last of my father’s essence would flow through him. My brother has now increased in strength, as the powers of the Night now dwell in him and within the Wings of Night he alone now bears.”

  The Shade then looked down. “I have failed you,” she said. “The Shadow now has that which he needs to face you.”

  Agapor looked upon the sad form of the Shade with a feigned pity. He then said to her in a calm voice, “You have not failed me.”

  He then raised his voice, saying, “You have betrayed me! You chose to share with your brother the knowledge of those wings which you knew he had been seeking. The Shadow now possesses the Essence Eternal’s greatest gifts. With them he may now slay the child I seek. With them he may destroy our world.”

  But the Shade looked at Agapor in confusion. “Surely my brother has come to Phantaia already. Was he not seen in these woods?” the Shade asked. Agapor smiled at her with a curious expression. He then walked away.

  But he quickly turned and laughed, saying, “I have recently had an epiphany. You know not the true depths of my plans. For I saw in a vision long ago how I might use you and your brother, as my own father had planned, long ago. As slaves and servants unto me were you and your brother meant to be. For I had known the manacles were meant for me, the Son of Twilight, and that the Children of Night would serve only me. Yet for a greater purpose were they designed, a purpose hidden from me till now. But it matters not to me now. And so I care not for the fate of the Shadow, your corrupted brother. You and your brother shall soon perish by your own evil deeds.”

  Agapor looked down at the sad Shade, grinning as he spoke. “I sensed your brother would follow you. Taking the wings from his father, he would then try and use them to destroy the child, my father, and the lights of Phantaia. But he would fail in his mission by the wing’s own betrayal in his time of need. For he does not understand their true powers or purpose, just as I do not yet understand this foul ring that seems to possess me and the cursed spirit that dwells within its stone.” Agapor gazed at the ghoulish ring with a curious confusion.

  Agapor looked at the evil trees about him, saying, “The witch-hazels of Avaras saw a great battle upon the heights of the falls. I know by the words of their tree-lords that the Shadow was defeated by my father, fleeing the forest injured and near death. He has failed.”

  Agapor looked down at the Shade in disdain. Agapor then said to her, “With his own dire acts your brother now disavows his pledge to help me find the child. Freedom shall never be his. Such shall be the price paid by him for his arrogance.” And Agapor bellowed forth with an almost maddening laughter.

  Agapor then called forth the powers from the black manacle on his left wrist. The Shade then squirmed in the mud before him, falling onto the floor in agony so that her screams echoed through Phantaia. The demonic trees of Avaras stood still, listening with delight to her tortured screams. He then walked forward through the mud and stood over the Shade, saying, “It is strange. You never tried to stop your brother from his warped plots against me. Nor did you turn him away from his cruel plot to harm the child. Why?”

  “Had the child been harmed by him,” Agapor said with enraged and fiery eyes, “I would have cast you into the very mouth of Yana to be devoured.” He stood over her with searching eyes as she slowly struggled to her knees.

  The Shade then looked up from the floor of the forest in fear of him. But Agapor stood calmly over her as he lowered his left arm, peering down at the sad figure kneeling in the mud. He then walked over to the feet of the great hazel trees to sit down. As he did, one of the hulking monsters lifted up its thick root to accommodate him.

  He then looked again at the Shade, and with a softer voice said to her, “The child I seek is my daughter. I have even known her name. She is Ana, born of An my half-sister who dwells forever trapped in the nightmarish seas. By my own seed was she conceived.” Agapor then looked down with distant eyes that bore a deep regret.

  Agapor then said, “I know now in my heart that the Shadow did not slay her. For what reason I do not yet know. But she yet lives. My own father the Twilight Mist saved her from him. My father had sent her into these woods so she might be spared certain death by the evil storm that I myself had spawned.” Agapor then sat quietly, staring off into the woods, as if contemplating some bleak past or baneful future.

  Agapor then looked down at his feet, telling the Shade, “In truth I knew she would be taken from me. But Phantaia is not her final destination. For I have made a vow to the Nothingness that lives in the Great Beyond that she should be given unto him for the endless servitude of the Magra Overlord that now continually wages war upon these woods. I sold the spirit of my own child for Phantaia’s destruction.” Agapor then rose to his feet, and started walking about the muddy pool.

  “But by the strange ring upon my finger, had a greater fate been shown to me,” Agapor continued, with an intensity in his voice. “The spirit of the Limitless Void had saved itself, housing itself in the ring’s dark crystal. I had foolishly desired to destroy it and free the spirit within it. But by the insight granted unto me, I spared the ring and the Void from annihilation. One of its hidden purposes had then come to light. For with the spirit it contains could I now control the demons that haunt this strange wood, and thus all of Avaras. For the fallen children of Oblivion dwell in these trees. And they serve only him. By the ring would they now help me find my lost daughter.” Agapor stopped to ponder the ring on his finger, staring into its crystal now turned gray.

  Agapor then looked at the Shade with hopeful eyes, saying, “The Lords of the Hazels that rule these woods have shown me the hidden trail to the place where she now dwells. It is a vast distance. But look how the trail leads deeper into the forest. By the powers of the ring I shall now be concealed by the trees of the forest and hidden from the guardians that watch for travelers in the greener woods.” Agapor then looked up at the hulking phantom trunks that towered over them, their large demonic eyes now closed in sleep.

  Agapor then said, “I no longer fear the Shadow that has fled Phantaia, or the Twilight Mist that once stalked these woods. The trees have revealed to me that your brother can never return. For the lights of Phantaia have burned his wings and body severely. He was nearly slain. But my father perished at the hand of your brother. And so the time of the powers of the Night, the Void, and Mist have now passed away. The age of the Primordial Ones has now ended.” Agapor’s face seemed cold and hollow but resolute.

  Agapor looked into the Shade’s dark eyes, saying, “Ana dwells far from me now. But I have felt her spirit deep in Phantaia’s heart of late, near to the source of its great burning candle. With the help of the trees she shall be found. And when I do I shall take her away from this cursed wood.”

  Agapor then sat down, deep in thought. The Shade then climbed up from the muddy pool and sat beside him. He had become pensive, and seemed to be caught in a trance, as if trapped in the thought of an unsolvable riddle. Yet it was the empty feeling inside him—that his shattered family now seemed so near yet so far from him—that pained him most.

  The Shade t
hen said to Agapor, “Unknown to you, I have known the child was yours. But I also know of a darker secret which must be revealed to you. My brother told me in secret that within the girl lay the waters that would be the doom of us all. For haunted waters live within this child. They are the deadly waters of the Essence Eternal of which An and the seas bore against us. They now live in her, my love. Like the Dreaming Seas had inflicted upon you in ages past, under the magic spell of those waters shall this world soon fall should they be released from her.” Agapor then stared at the Shade in disbelief.

  The Shade then stood before Agapor, saying, “As you yourself have known, it was your own father that released those poisonous waters into the sea. By the same evil waters that live in your child shall this wooded realm soon be entrapped. And much suffering shall soon come of it. You know in your heart this to be true, Agapor. Unless those waters are destroyed, we shall all soon perish. For I sense that the baneful light of the tree and the deadly waters united shall unleash some new horror upon us.”

  The Shade then held up the right hand of Agapor, saying, “By the powers of the Limitless Void that lies in the ring, you must command the evil trees to destroy these terrible twins.” Placing his hand down, she looked into his sad eyes, saying, “With my brother gone only you can fulfill this terrible deed now, my love. Only you were meant to bear this ring, wear the manacles that bind me to you, and find the child who carries these waters. Through the spirit of the Limitless Void you now control, shall the ancient will of Oblivion be fulfilled in this world. And by you alone, is it now destined that the Sacred Water and Light of the forest be obliterated forever from this world.”

  Agapor slowly rose to his feet. He then began to pace about the pool until he stood angrily before the Shade, saying, “To do this would mean the death of my child. And I shall never lead my daughter to that fate. Nor shall I ever abandon my child, as I myself was abandoned by my parents.”

  Agapor then raised the ring upon his hand, yelling out the Limitless Void’s name. And from the ring was stirred the winds of the woods. The dead leaves upon the trees were blown about in a great cyclone. And by his command the skies grew dark until lightning struck down about them in webs of blue and silver. The threatening trees then backed away from him, as if in fear. The ring now seemed to glow with a ruddy light.

  But Agapor looked with fear and anger upon the ring, as he lowered his arms. The winds died back down. And he looked once more upon the face of the Shade in angst and frustration. He then said to the Shade, “If within my child lies the powers of the seas and the curse of this world, then I must take her away from it. I shall take her to a place beyond the Mountains of Heaven where the waters can be safely released from her and poured forth back into the monstrous misty abyss from whence they were born. For this is my father’s doing.”

  But the Shade said in defiance, “Saving the child shall bring the wrath of the Nothingness down upon us. Do you not see what you have done? If this is your plan, we should leave now and forget the child and forsake the struggles of this fallen world. For we are all doomed as long as the child and the waters she carries yet live.”

  But Agapor looked upon her in deep sadness, saying, “I cannot.”

  The Shade then reached out and held Agapor’s hands, saying, “Please...please let us go from here now, my love. Do you not see the folly of this? Nothing good shall come of it but death and destruction. I beg of you, do not seek Ana. From her I see a terrible fate for you, for this world, and for us. Is the child not doomed to die by your own vow to the Nothingness?”

  But Agapor cast the Shade away from him in shame, so that she fell to her hands and knees before him. Agapor then turned away from her. But the Shade said, “Agapor, we must fly away from this place, you and I. Leave the flawed child to her own fate. For if she was meant to die or dwell in the heart of Phantaia, it was for a grander purpose whose true nature only your father had known. Within the child, Agapor, dwells a horrible force, uncontrollable, and a curse to the living. What blessing remains from it will soon be Phantaia’s alone. By those waters that now live in her lies a fate meant only for the forest-children to come whose path, good or evil, blessed or cursed, matters not to us. For if it was truly destined to be, no force under Heaven can now stop it.”

  The Shade ran to Agapor and embraced him, as she had done many times before. But Agapor sternly held up his shining manacles before her in defiance. The Shade closed her eyes, as she knew she would soon be called back into its terrible prison.

  Agapor raised his left wrist which held the iron band that had bound her spirit to him. He then summoned the forces within it, so that it glowed with a purple light upon his wrist. But he drew not his anger against her. For as she looked the shackle had dimmed, falling away from his arm, down onto the wet leaves at his feet. Agapor picked it up and tossed it to her. By his face she knew he would not waver from his desire to save his child.

  The Shade picked up the manacle and stared at Agapor in disbelief. He looked upon her sad face, and with emotionless eyes whose watery orbs hid a quiet passion he still held for her, he said to the Shade, “You are free from your enslavement to me...free from this poisonous love. And so am I freed from you.”

  Agapor then turned and walked away. But the Shade now free of the manacles, gathered within her the boundless rage born of her long imprisonment to him and his empty love. She drew forth the darkness itself from out of the earth and sky, so that about them the Heavens grew suddenly quiet and grim, as if a black veil were cast around them throwing back all sound and sight, wind and light. Black wisps of smoke boiled forth from beneath her as she summoned the spirits of the shades that had dwelt under every stone since the birth of the world. She drew them up into her, their sensuous black bodies writhing about her in the air in a wide circle.

  She now stood before Agapor as an angry Angel of Darkness, her long fangs revealed and fiery eyes aflame. Her wild ebony hair, streaked with red, swirled like snakes in the stagnant air. And her long black wings unfurled and flowed with strange translucent and ever-changing patterns. Her own shadow now hung about her in a widening cloak, until it had spread throughout the woods about them, the forest itself having disappeared beneath its empty and silent pitch.

  Only she and Agapor now stood within the black and hollow depths, their frozen breath billowing out in clouds of icy crystals. She then floated above Agapor, enraged, crying out in a haunted voice, “Leave the cursed children of this vile world to their own pitiful fates. Let them perish in fire or water, earth and wind. It does not matter to me now. Forget the child. Now is our time. Let our own dark and corrupted love rule this hollow world, the Son of the Void and Daughter of the Night, wed as one forever after. Our love needs no others. For together we shall bathe this world in eternal darkness and damnation, so that all shall come before us in the midst of their own peril, bearing witness to our unholy union, and bowing before their consecrated queen and king. But our immortal love shall alone be their example, living on to guide them all while they slowly consume themselves in their own dark and decadent passions.”

  The Shade then drew her body down onto Agapor, so that he fell into the mud and mire before her. She hung over him, drawing forth her great dark fangs. She could slay her cruel master and do what her brother had long desired to do if she wished.

  But as Agapor gazed into her jet-black eyes, he saw behind them the savage fires of her own heart burning bright for him. But as the Shade looked into his eyes, she saw only the cold corpse of the love they once had known, having long ago died in him.

  Agapor then whispered into her ear, “I am sorry.”

  The darkness suddenly faded and the Shade stood as she was, a servant to him, standing in the cold mud of the woods before him. Agapor climbed out onto the bank above her, looking at her one last time. He then turned away, disappearing into the woods above her.

  The Shade wept in bitterness as she held the dark bracer in her hands. She then ran from him, down the slope o
f the dark woods with great fury, flinging her body off the cliffs before the sea until her wings unfurled and carried her away into the darkness. Flying high in the gray clouds, she looked at the cold ocean below, tossing the irons that had imprisoned her for so many ages down into sea. She watched with tears of bitterness as they disappeared beneath the gray waves.

  Agapor had in secret looked from the hillside and watched as the Shade flew away. The strange ring on his hand now glowed with a sickly throbbing, white light, as if fulfilled by what had transpired. He then drew his dark cloak about him and disappeared into the woods.

  The twilight glow of the mists that once guarded the woods had now faded. Yet there remained an odd, almost incarnate remnant of his father’s purple mists about the trunks of the trees. Agapor walked forward and touched his father’s mists with his hands. And he thought about his father, knowing he would never see him, touch him, or know of him. For by his own heartless will and desire for vengeance had he caused his father’s death. And his own black heart was now filled with this tragic truth.

  The grim and haunted trees of that ancient wood had followed him closely. As they had encircled him in the depths of the dark forest, they looked upon him with their heartless orbs. With their eyes cast aglow, they grimaced at him in his hour of loss, unmoving and cold. Their towering and monstrous black forms seemed to try and reach out with their mangled black limbs to grasp him in their long woody fingers.

  But Agapor held up the shining black ring before their great smoky eyes in defiance and anger at their futile attempt. The demonic trees were instantly hypnotized by its strange blue lights, desiring the ring and what lay inside. They then gathered about him in their trance, as he spoke to them in their strange tongue demanding to know where the path before him might go. They then revealed to him the secret paths and guarded gates of deepest Phantavra, and the long and dangerous journey ahead for them leading into its heartland.

  Agapor then wrapped his cloak about him, and like a dark mist, fled off into the blacker corridors of the forest to find his daughter.