Category: Rise of the Cursed Twins

Rise of the Cursed Twins (Chapter 5)

Chapter 5

Bart walked across the hall to where Jonah said the washroom was. There was a big cast iron tub, a small washbasin, and a pile of towels. Bart took the basin out to the well and filled it up. Back inside, he stared into the mirrored glass on the wall. The deep purple bruise under his left eye and the red, raw cut on his lip angered him the most. He had other bruises on his chest and side, but they were covered by his shirt. The visible signs that he had been beaten were what fueled his rage toward the blacksmith’s apprentice.

The rage was building uncontrollably, and he knew what to do. As quietly as he could, he listened at Jonah’s door. No sound. Good, he must be asleep. The entire inn was quiet. Bart hoped that meant that everyone was sleeping. He took a last look to ensure no one was watching him and slipped quietly out of the inn.

Bart strolled back to the Blacksmith Shop, keeping to the shadows so anyone else who may be out on the street this late at night would not see him. He could typically control his anger better, but he couldn’t let the apprentice get away with the pain he caused him. The only way for him to get the rage back in control now was to release it upon the object of his fury, the apprentice. Bart was not afraid of the older boy or of the mountainous blacksmith, for that matter. Fear was just another emotion that needed controlling, just like anger. He eased himself into the shadows of the building across from the blacksmith shop and waited. He took a deep breath and released all his pent-up emotions, calming his mind about his plan.

Bart tried to keep entirely still, but he couldn’t keep his body from shivering in the cold. Night had fallen over an hour before. The blacksmith was already gone, but Andrew, the apprentice, was still in the shop. The darkness of the night was near total. Clouds had rolled in in what looked like preparation for a significant storm. Bart had to watch closely to ensure he saw the boy leave. Bart was fighting off sleep. He listened to the sounds of the night to keep himself alert. The rhythmic chirping of the crickets. The hooting of owls out hunting for mice. The wind of the impending storm blew through the trees. The howling of far-off wolves. He allowed all the sounds to wash over him, calming him for what was to come.

The only light source on the street was from inside the blacksmith shop. That light went out, and the apprentice stepped out into the night. Bart followed Andrew up the street, sticking to the shadows, trying to remain unseen and unheard. Andrew left the main road and started up a small path into the woods on the town’s edge. Bart followed him for another mile, picking up a massive tree branch along the way. Bart was sweating profusely now. His emotions were no longer under control. They now controlled him. He felt as if he was a passenger in his own body. He was scared. He was nervous. He was angry. He was oh so angry. Thinking back to Andrew standing over him in the street made Bart angry again. He tried to release his emotions and regain control over the situation, but he failed. His anger was boiling up uncontrollably inside of him. He could almost taste his hatred for the boy ahead of him. Bart quickened his pace and got even closer to the apprentice. Before Andrew knew Bart was there, Bart struck the back of his legs with the tree branch, knocking the boy to the ground. Andrew rolled over to face his attacker, raising his arms up in front of his face. Bart swung the makeshift club again, but not at Andrew’s face. The club struck with a sickening crunch, shattering the boy’s right kneecap. Andrew shrieked in pain and grabbed the remains of his knee, sobbing in pain.

 “You! Oh, God, it hurts so bad. Please don’t kill me. Please! He made me throw you out of the shop. It wasn’t my fault! Please!” Andrew’s tear-streaked face contorted in pain. His eyes were wide with fear, pleading desperately with the boy standing over him with a raised club, ready to strike again.

The club came down again, landing with a sickening crunch against the side of Andrew’s skull. The light faded from the boy’s eyes as the spark of life slipped slowly out of his body. Bart did not even notice these things. He rained blows down on the boy’s body until his arms were too tired to raise the club. It was like he was in a trance. The rage and hatred were in control. Bart’s mind blacked out, and when he woke up, he was sitting under an old oak tree, completely covered in hot, sticky blood. He looked over at the body of the apprentice. He could not even recognize the boy anymore. The body was just a red, pulpy mass of broken flesh and bone. Bart felt no remorse. He released that with all the other emotions. Bart took a deep breath and finally felt the emotions draining from his body.

Bart went back to the inn to clean up again. This time, he had to strip off all his clothes and sit under the well pump to get clean. Bart didn’t want to take the time to make the trips to fill the washtub. He tried to wash all the blood out of his clothes as well. Bart would be needing new clothes soon. His were all torn and tattered in many places. He returned to the washroom and dried himself off with one of the towels. He returned quietly to his room, never seeing Jonah standing in the shadows, watching.

The first rays of the dawn sunlight filtered through the dirty curtains and into the room where Bart slept; he groggily opened his eyes and looked around. For a moment, he did not remember where he was. Bart pushed himself up and off the cot, yawned, and stretched. He’d been staying with Cecilia at the inn for nearly a month, yet it still didn’t seem real. He couldn’t grasp the fact that he genuinely liked her. This had never happened to him before. He planned on moving on from the inn as soon as he had eaten and rested, but now he didn’t want to leave. He needed to know what about Cecilia drew him to her.

His thoughts then drifted to Jonah. Jonah was always watching Bart. Everywhere he went, there was Jonah. He might have to deal with Jonah. Everyone else at the inn liked and accepted Bart, everyone except Jonah. Bart’s hatred for the boy grew more uncontrollable all the time. He didn’t want to ruin what he had here with Cecilia, so he had to devise a plan to get Jonah to like him or get rid of him completely.

The day progressed much like any other at the inn—endless chores and errands. As always, Bart tried his best to avoid Jonah. But, as always, Jonah was never far away.

All these thoughts ran through Bart’s head as he finished his daily chores. Tired, he picked up the canvas sack and headed toward his room at the back of the inn. As soon as he entered his room, he felt eyes watching him. He spun around and saw a shadow detach itself from the wall. Bart took a single step back, embraced, and released the fear that tried to grip him. Bart faced the figure before him. All Bart could make out from the black-robed, hooded figure was a pair of pale yellow eyes and a glint of silver. Bart gasped. He had never seen a Shadowkin before, but he heard the stories and knew he faced one now. The Shadowkin were servants of the Enkali, the ruling class of all Talamh Arsa. From everything Bart knew, he believed that the Shadowkin could not do anything without the permission of one of the Enkali. Bart wondered why this one was here now, in his room. Why was it looking for him?

Bart felt the eyes of the Shadowkin looking intently at him, and he involuntarily shuddered. Bart felt as if something deep inside the core of his being suddenly came alive. His skin tingled, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Bart felt waves of powerful energy emanating from the Shadowkin and washing over and into him. Bart felt more robust, more alive than he ever had before.

The Shadowkin’s yellow eyes widened in surprise. Bart flew across the room with one wave of the Shadowkin’s hand, crashing into the far wall. Bart expected to feel intense pain, but he hardly felt a thing. He looked up, and the Shadowkin stood there looking down at him. “You need to learn to control that magic, boy. If I did not know that you did not intend to use it against me, I would have killed you.”

Bart picked himself up off the floor. He brushed the dust and bits of sawdust off his clothes and out of his hair. He took a deep breath and released it slowly, calming himself before he spoke. “Magic? What do you mean? I have no magic. Who are you? What do you want with me?”

“You do have magic. Let us go outside and sit. My name is Ihlvo of the Shadowkin. We have much to talk about, Bartholomew.”

Bart’s young mind was racing. Magic? Him? He didn’t know magic, or did he? Was that surge of energy he felt earlier magic? Was that why he felt no pain when he smashed against the barn wall? Bart followed Ihlvo outside. He desperately needed to calm his nerves before talking to the Shadowkin. Bart tried one of the relaxation techniques he taught himself. He opened his senses to the night around him. He felt the cool night air wash over his body, chilling his pale skin and slightly ruffling his hair. He heard the crickets’ constant chirping, the mosquitoes’ buzzing, and the owls’ hooting. He smelt the smoke from the many fireplace chimneys around the village, keeping people safe and warm inside their houses. The air was also heavy, with the smell of the early spring flowers blooming around the town. He tasted the blood dripping from his nose. Bart could see by the light of the nearly full moon that he and Ihlvo were the only ones out in the yard. Now fully relaxed, Bart followed Ihlvo across the yard to a large oak tree. Ihlvo sat down and motioned for Bart to sit also. Bart sat down and leaned back against the enormous tree, feeling the rough bark through the thin cloth of his tunic.

Ihlvo began to speak. “Bartholomew, you are more than an abandoned orphan who no one wants. You have greatness inside of you. You are not even an orphan at all. Your father lives, and I am here to tell you of him.”

Bart interjected. “What? What about my mother? Do you know of her as well? I have longed to know about my parents and where I am from. I have never fit in with the families who took me in. I hated them all, and they hated me. All of them. They abandoned me and left me on my own when I was eleven years old. I was kicked out of the village with only the clothes on my back and was told never to return. Tell me of my parents, please, Ihlvo, please!”

“I will tell you everything I know, but first, I will show you. I can share my memories with you. I will show you what I can and tell you the rest. Take my hand and open your mind to me.” Ihlvo extended one hand towards Bart.

Bart was losing the control he usually had over his emotions. Parents! His mind was racing with what that could mean for him. Is his father alive? What of his mother? Why did they abandon him? Where are they now? All these thoughts raced through his young mind in the blink of an eye. He was nervous and excited to hear what Ihlvo had to say and see what Ihlvo could show him. His mouth was dry, and his hands were slick with sweat, even in the cold night air. He saw Ihlvo extend his long-fingered, grey-tinged hand towards him. Ihlvo’s skin looked dry enough to crumble away to dust at the slightest touch. The smell of rotting meat coming from the Shadowkin made Bart’s stomach lurch, but he gritted his teeth, relaxed his mind, and placed his small, pale hand into the much larger grey hand of Ihlvo.

Bart almost wrenched his hand away as soon as he touched the Shadowkin. Ihlvo’s skin was so cold it nearly burned. Bart felt as if all the heat from his entire body was draining from him through his hand. Bart grew disoriented and dizzy. His eyes started to burn like they were on fire, hotter fire than Bart had ever known. The sensations stopped, and Bart opened his eyes. He blinked, finding himself in an unfamiliar place. Bart realized that not only was he in a place he did not know, but he was looking out of Ihlvo’s eyes. This must be how memory sharing works. He was inside one of Ihlvo’s memories, reliving the moment.

Bart was outside a tiny hut where a tall, regal-looking woman stood beside him, motioning towards the door. This was very strange. He felt as if he was Ihlvo, but he had no control over his actions or movements. He could only watch as the events occurred, and muffled and indistinct sounds made everything hard to hear. Bart heard snatches of conversation or sometimes just a word here or there. In the vision, Bart waved his hand at the door, and the door exploded inward. He stepped into the hut and saw a woman cowering in the corner. Bart opened his mouth to speak, and he heard Ihlvo’s voice announce the presence of Andharia, Lady of the Enkali. Bart could not hear most of what she said, but he did hear Andharia say, “he was as deceitful with you as he always is with me,” and “Your child will be cursed to hate all those around him.”

The scene blurred and changed. Bart was once more outside the same hut. Three others were there this time: another Shadowkin, Andharia, and a tall bearded man wearing a jewel-studded crown. Bart heard Andharia call the man Bahaar, which meant he was Bahaar of the Enkali. The door to the hut swung open, and a ragged, dirty woman stumbled out, looking very distressed. She carried a cloth-wrapped bundle to Bahaar and attempted to hand it to him. Bart could not hear most of what Bahaar said, but it was crystal clear when Bahaar said, “No one must know this child is of my blood. Get it away from me.” The scene blurred and changed again.

Bart was now standing over the older woman’s body in the forest and speaking to the woman from the first vision. He heard Ihlvo say, “Yes. He ordered me to kill you, but give the boy to me if you want him to live. I will hide him far from Bahaar. He will be safe. Bahaar will not know he still lives.”

Then the woman said, “I want my son to live. Take him. His name is Bartholomew.” Then Bart watched in horror as Ihlvo took the baby in one hand, drew his sword with the other, and drove the blade deep into the woman’s chest. The scene blurred again. When Bart’s vision cleared, he was back in his body, sitting next to Ihlvo.

Bart leaped to his feet and backed a few steps away from Ihlvo. “Was that my mother? Did you kill my mother? And Bahaar is my father? Bahaar of the Enkali?”

“Yes. Yes. And yes. That woman was your mother. I did not choose to kill her. I was ordered to by Bahaar.” Ihlvo fingered the silver collar around his neck. “That is what these collars do to us. We Shadowkin are servants to the Enkali so long as we wear these collars. I had no choice, Bartholomew. We are both victims of the evil Bahaar.”

“I still don’t understand. Why did Bahaar want me and my mother dead? Why did you save me? Why did Andharia curse me? Is that why I always feel like this? No matter how I want to feel about someone, I always hate them.” Bart sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s so frustrating to always feel so much hate.” Bart leaned back against the tree and slid slowly to the ground beside Ihlvo.

 

“I will tell you as much as I know. Try to listen and not interrupt.” Bart settled in next to Ihlvo, listening intently. Ihlvo continued. “Bahaar has a long history of dalliances with human women. None of these dalliances had ever resulted in a child until you. When Andharia learned of your mother’s pregnancy, she flew into a rage. She did not dare kill a child of Bahaar without Bahaar’s knowledge, so she cursed you to a tortured existence instead. Bahaar still did not know about the pregnancy. Andharia forbade him to see your mother and hid her pregnancy from him for as long as she could. He did not learn of the pregnancy until the day of your birth. He went to the human village when he learned that your mother was pregnant and in labor. No one knew how he would react. Andharia insisted on traveling to the village with Bahaar. He ordered Toznar and me to travel with them. You saw in my memory what happened next. Bahaar rejected you and ordered the death of your mother. He did not specifically order me to kill you, just to dispose of you. The vague wording of his orders allowed me to spare your life. I sensed great power in you. Never have I encountered a being with such a strong connection to the magic as you. If you can learn to use and control the magic, you could become a powerful wizard.”

Bart’s eyes grew wide as Ihlvo described the magic inside of him. He wanted to stop Ihlvo and ask him the hundreds of questions running through his mind. But, he bit his tongue, stayed quiet, and allowed Ihlvo to continue uninterrupted.

“I could find no loophole in Bahaar’s order to kill your mother. As much as it pained me, I carried out the order. I took you to a faraway village and left you on the doorstep of a human couple, hoping they would care for you as if you were their own. We Shadowkin cannot travel without permission from the Enkali, so I could not check in on you until this very night. I am pleased to find you well and beginning to discover your magical abilities. The dark magic of the curse is the reason for your deep hatred of others. The more you want to care for someone, the more you will hate them. You have more questions, Bartholomew?”

Bart looked up at Ihlvo, tears welling up in his pale green eyes, fists clenched at his sides, his body trembling with rage. His voice, through his gritted teeth, sounded like the snarl of an angry dog. “I hate them. I hate them both. I don’t even think it is the magic of the curse this time. I hate them so much. I hate Andharia for cursing me before I was even born, ruining any chance I may have had for a happy life. I hate Bahaar for having my mother killed and rejecting me. If I am as powerful as you say, I want to make them suffer as much as I have. I want them on their knees, begging me for their lives, and then I want to obliterate them.”

Ihlvo grinned slyly and patted Bart on the back. “You will have the power to do that someday. You must be patient for now. Magic takes a hard toll on the body. You must strengthen your body as well as your mind. I will be here when I can to teach you magic. Work hard at the magic and training your body, and you will realize your goals. Once you are strong enough, I must use your magic to free the Shadowkin from these accursed collars. With us at your side, you can take down Bahaar, Andharia, and the rest of the Enkali once and for all.

Bart grinned. “When do we start?”

Rise of the Cursed Twins (Chapter 4)

Chapter 4

The boy stood at the top of the hill and looked down at the town. His blonde hair was slicked back from the driving rain, his bare feet ankle-deep in mud, and his hands clenched into fists that hung limply at his sides. The boy howled in rage into the storm that swirled all around him. His energy was now spent, and he collapsed in a heap and slept until the bright, hot morning sun woke him.

 

The confidence with which the tall, lanky boy strolled into the village, contrasted with his dirty appearance and ragged clothing. His bare feet slapped the hard-packed dirt street with each step as he slowly scanned the storefronts before deciding what he should do. A look of fierce determination on his young face, he stood up straight, squared his shoulders, and entered the blacksmith shop. He stopped just inside the door, blinking his pale green eyes, adjusting to the dim interior of the shop. Brushing his unruly blonde hair out of his face, he walked towards the large man hammering away at the forge. Though tall for his age, Bart felt utterly dwarfed by the blacksmith. The smith was clearly a foot taller and two hundred pounds heavier than Bart’s five foot six and a hundred and twenty pounds.

 The smith caught sight of Bart, turned towards the boy, and bellowed. “Boy! Why are you in my shop?! You do not look like a paying customer! Get out now!” The smith waved one hand dismissively at Bart, trying to point Bart back towards the door.

Bart felt the old, familiar rage boiling inside of him. He took one deep breath, held it for a moment, and released the anger and the breath. At thirteen, Bart now had near-perfect control of his emotions, especially anger. He had to. Rage was a near-constant companion for Bart. The only constant companion he had ever had. With his feelings again under control, Bart raised one dirty hand, brushed a stray lock of blonde hair out of his pale green eyes, and looked up at the man still yelling for him to get out of the shop. This time, it was the blacksmith who was kicking him out. Bart didn’t need to hear what the man said as he had been getting the same reaction from every shopkeeper in every village for the last two months. He wasn’t asking for handouts. He just wanted to do some chores in exchange for food and maybe a warm place to sleep for a couple of nights. Bart’s thin frame was weakening from lack of food and little sleep. He needed both desperately. Bart focused back in on what the blacksmith was saying to him.

“Get out of my shop now, boy. I already have an apprentice to do all the necessary chores, and your filthy stink is driving away my customers. You smell like the inside of a cow stall. Get out.”

“Please, sir, I haven’t eaten for days. I am willing to do whatever work you have that needs doing. I need a little food. Please. I don’t want a handout. I’m willing to work hard at any task you give me.” Bart looked directly into the blacksmith’s eyes, pleading with him one last time.

The blacksmith, unmoved by Bart’s plea for help, turned his head and yelled.” Andrew, get your lazy behind out here and get this filthy beggar out of my shop, now!” A tall, wide-shouldered boy lumbered out of the back room, a look on his face like an angry storm cloud. He leaned a battered-looking broom against the wall and wiped his large hands on the dirty apron hanging at his waist. Though he was not much older than Bart, Andrew’s body rippled with muscles. He had been working for the blacksmith for several years and eating more often than Bart ever had. Bart saw the boy walking towards him and started to go back to the door. Andrew closed the distance between himself and Bart in seconds and, without warning, gave him a two-handed shove to the chest, knocking Bart backward through the open door. Bart lost his balance and fell into the dusty street outside the blacksmith shop. Bart struggled to his feet and was immediately struck in the left eye by Andrew’s massive right fist. Bart attempted to get back to his feet, but the apprentice hit him in the face again. This time, the boy’s fist split Bart’s lip open. Dazed, Bart felt the blood dripping down his chin as he closed his eyes and tried to get the world to stop spinning. Andrew grabbed Bart by the back of his shirt and dragged him across the street. Bart tried to struggle free of the bigger boy’s grasp. Bart’s struggles only succeeded in getting him repeatedly kicked in the ribs.

Andrew looked down at the battered and bloody boy at his feet. “Never come back to this shop again. My master does not want you here. If you return, I will beat you even worse.” Andrew turned without another word and stalked back to the blacksmith shop.

 Bart groaned in agony. His left eye throbbed and was already swollen shut. He ran his tongue over the cut on his lip and tasted fresh blood still dripping from the wound. His chest hurt if he tried to breathe too deeply, hopefully, bruised and not broken ribs. Bart rolled himself into a sitting position and leaned his back against the side of the building. He glowered across the street at the blacksmith shop with his one good eye. His body shook as the rage flowed through him. Bart was furious. His hands balled into tightly clenched fists, and little half-moons of blood sprouted up under his fingernails. He gritted his teeth to prevent himself from howling in rage. He looked down and saw a large bruise already forming where the boy had roughly gripped his arm and dragged him across the street. Bart clenched his fists tighter and felt the blood from his palms dripping down the sides of his hands.

Bart closed his eyes and pictured what he wanted to do to the blacksmith’s apprentice. Bart imagined what he wanted to do to the blacksmith. He envisioned what he wanted to do to everyone around him. Bart hated them. He hated them all. Even the few people who had ever been kind to Bart, he hated them most of all. The nicer someone was to him, the more he hated them. He knew that someday they would betray him. They all always did. So, if he let himself care, he would open himself up to even worse pain. Therefore, the people who acted as if they liked him were the most dangerous of all. He had to push them away even further than the rest. As Bart pictured all this in his mind, he felt a surge of energy, and his whole body itched and tingled. His pain seemed to lessen slightly, and Bart opened his eyes and stood up. He glanced at the blacksmith shop one last time and saw the apprentice still looking out of the shop towards him. Bart turned and walked up the street away from the shop, still plotting revenge.

He had to get away for now. He had to get his anger under control and decide what to do next. The first thing he needed to do was clean himself up. His hands were bloody, and he was even dirtier than he was before. Bart walked further up the dusty street. He saw an inn and thought he could clean up and maybe beg for food. He looked through the inn’s window and saw a middle-aged woman tending the bar and a young girl waiting tables and serving food. He hoped the middle-aged woman was the inn owner. She looked like someone who might help a young boy in trouble. He wasn’t sure what he would say to her, but he stepped forward and pushed through the door to the inn. He only took a few steps into the inn when suddenly he became very dizzy. The room started to spin, and he collapsed on the floor. As he lost consciousness, Bart thought he heard a glass break and a woman scream.

 

After Bart walked up the street, a shadowy figure emerged from behind the building. The individual was wearing a heavy black cloak and had the hood pulled all the way forward, completely covering their face. The figure glided over and bent down right where Bart had been sitting in the grass. The once lush green grass was now yellow, dry, and wilted. There were also drops of Bart’s blood on the grass from the cuts on his hands and lip. The figure extended one sickly grey hand out, pulled up some yellowed grass, rolled it between his long, bony fingers, and dropped it back to the ground. He wiped up a spot of the blood and licked it off his finger with his pointed yellow tongue. The figure nodded to himself, knowing that the boy had finally used magic, even if he was unaware of that fact. With one wave of his hand, the figure turned the yellowed grass green again, wiping away any trace of magic. The Shadowkin called Ihlvo turned and faded back into the buildings’ shadow. The child of Bahaar was growing in power. Soon, Ihlvo’s plans would begin in earnest.

 

Bart felt a presence hovering over him, and he slowly opened his right eye. The worried face of the middle-aged woman, the woman he had seen just before he entered the inn, greeted him. Bart pushed himself up to a sitting position. “Wha-what happened?”

The woman steadied Bart with a hand on his shoulder. “You poor boy. You stumbled into my inn and collapsed on the floor! You look terribly beaten! Who has done such an evil thing to such a sweet, innocent boy?!” Tears dripped from her eyes, and she looked down at Bart as if he were her own son.

Bart decided it best not to mention the blacksmith or the apprentice. Instead, he told a story of strangers on the road brutally attacking him. “Ma’am, there were two of them. Big men. I never saw what they looked like. They beat me, took everything I had, and left me by the side of the road. When I woke, I made my way here to this inn. It took all the strength I had to make it this far. I guess I passed out. If someone could help me up, I will be out of your way as soon as I rest for a bit.” He sighed and lay back on the floor.

“No. No. No. You are not going anywhere, my dear boy.” She looked back over her shoulder at the people in the inn. “Jonah! Help this boy up and sit him at the table by the corner window.” Next, she yelled at one of her servers. “Emily! Go to my room, get the little black pouch by my bed, and then get me a steak from the kitchen. Move! Both of you!” She looked back down at Bart. “My name is Cecilia Greene. You are going to be staying with me for a while. What is your name?”

“I am Bartholomew. You can call me Bart, though. I don’t want to be any trouble. Really.”

“Quiet, little one. It is no trouble at all. My own sons moved off on their own to start their own families. Let me take care of you. Now you sit back and tell old Cecilia everything that happened while I tend to your cuts and bruises.” Emily arrived with the first aid pouch, and Jonah finished helping Bart to the table by the window. Cecilia sent the two off on other errands and inspected Bart’s wounds closely before starting her work.

Bart winced in pain each time Cecilia cleaned a cut or applied some ointment to a bruise, but he talked through the pain. Deep down, he knew he didn’t want Cecilia, or anyone else, to learn of his fight at the smithy. Therefore, he spun Cecilia a different tale.

“I have been traveling on my own for a long time. I mostly stick to the forest and fend for myself. I try to avoid people as much as I can, especially towns. I… don’t have much luck dealing with people.” Bart cast his eyes downward. He cleared his throat and continued his story. “I was in the woods northwest of the village. Hunting was getting me nowhere. I could find no game anywhere. The fish weren’t biting. I haven’t eaten in four days! I was so hungry that I left the forest against my better judgment and found the road leading into town. I hoped to find work to earn money to buy some food. About a half-mile or so from the town, two men jumped me. They were hiding behind an overturned wagon, and as I passed the wagon, they attacked. When I woke up, I hurt everywhere. I was lying in a ditch on the side of the road, bloody and bruised. Everything I had with me, which wasn’t much to begin with, was gone: my knife, my fishing pole, and a few coins, all gone. I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t sure if they were still around. I was scared they might attack me again and kill me this time, so I got up and made my way into town. I saw the inn and hoped maybe I could clean myself up here. I guess I passed out. I woke up, and you were there. Thank you for taking care of my cuts. I don’t know how I can ever repay you. I have nothing now.” Bart lowered his gaze again. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, surprised at the depth of his own emotions.

Cecilia patted his arm. “Don’t worry about paying me for helping you, and don’t worry about leaving my inn. You said you came into town looking for work to get some food. I have plenty of work for you to do around here. I am always looking for someone to help with things. You rest and heal. When you are back on your feet, I will put you to work, and then we can talk about wages and repayments.” Cecilia turned her head toward Jonah, who was still at the table listening attentively to everything the young stranger had to say. “Jonah, go to the kitchen and get Bart something to eat. For now, get him some bread, cheese, and a big bowl of hot soup, and we’ll see if we can fill his hungry belly.” Cecilia patted Bart’s arm again and smiled at the boy. She got up from the table and called Emily. “Emily, get Bart a pitcher of water and keep him company until Jonah returns with dinner.”

Bart found himself smiling, which confused him. He genuinely liked Cecilia. She was kinder to him than anyone had been in longer than Bart could remember. Cecilia offered him food, a place to sleep, and a job. There was no way Bart would say no. After all, it was what he had come to town for. He had just not planned on feeling this way about someone. The only emotions Bart could ever remember feeling were anger and hate. Cold hatred or burning hot rage. This warm feeling of affection was new to him, and it confused him. Emily returned to the table with a water pitcher, interrupting his thoughts. Emily was a beautiful girl. He guessed her to be about sixteen, three years older than him. She had long blonde hair tied back to keep it from her face while working. Bart stood to pull the chair out for her to sit, and he noticed he was slightly taller than she was.

When Bart pulled the chair out for her, Emily set the pitcher of water down, leaned over, and kissed Bart on the cheek. “Such a sweet boy. Even though you are in terrible pain, you are still a fine young gentleman. Some girl will be lucky to have you someday.” Emily smiled and sat across the table from Bart.

The rage appeared quick and powerful; he almost couldn’t control it. He clenched his fists, closed his eyes, and took deep breaths. The kindness from Emily triggered the old familiar anger. Bart was even more confused now than before. What was it about Cecilia that allowed him to like her? He didn’t know, but he wanted to. He desperately wanted to be able to like people. He knew he had to spend more time with Cecilia and figure out what was different about her.

Bart opened his eyes and saw the worried look on the face of Emily. “Sorry.” He said through clenched teeth. “My ribs hurt really bad.” He took another deep breath and exhaled the rage as he had taught himself to do. He looked back at Emily again. “Thank you for your kind words, Emily. I can’t remember when people were as nice to me as you and Cecilia.” He stuttered and stammered another thank you as he poured himself a glass of water.

Before long, Jonah arrived with a plate of food for Bart. “Emily, Cecilia wants you to get back to work. Customers are waiting for their food.” As Emily left the table, Jonah slipped into her chair. He folded his hands and stared across the table at Bart. “Who are you really? And what happened to you? Bandits don’t roam the streets of this town. And if they did, why would they bother with a scrawny beggar like you?” Jonah sneered at Bart. “I don’t believe one word of your story. I’m going to keep an eye on you. Cecilia is a good person, and I won’t have you take advantage of her good nature.”

  Bart sat back, folded his hands in front of himself, and took two long, deep breaths. He looked directly at Jonah. “Every word I told Cecilia is true, Jonah. Why would I lie? Look at me. Aren’t my bruises all the proof you need? What more do you want?”

Jonah stared at Bart for a minute. “I’m not sure. I don’t trust you. Your story is ridiculous. Your injuries are real, though. I’ll give you that.” Jonah squinted his eyes, deep in thought. “I… just don’t know.”

Bart looked down, fiddled with his hands, and looked back at Jonah. Even though he hated this boy, he needed to stay at the inn for now, so he had to get everyone here to like and trust him. Bart had learned to smile and charm people into liking him, even though he hated them. He bottled up the hate and smiled at Jonah. “Please, Jonah. Give me a chance to prove myself. I don’t want handouts. I am willing to work hard for anything Cecilia does to help me. I’m not lying to you. I was badly beaten, and I have nothing except the clothes I’m wearing.”

Jonah sighed. “Ok, Bart. I won’t cause you any trouble with Cecilia, but I’m still not sure I believe you. If you stay, we’ll probably work together on lots of chores. Let’s get to know each other better. How long have you been on your own? My own parents died two years ago. I’ve been staying here at the inn with Cecilia ever since.”

Bart avoided as many of Jonah’s questions as he could. He deflected other questions back at Jonah and changed the subject as often as was possible. Part of the reason was that he didn’t want Jonah to know much about him, but mostly, it was because Bart did not know much about his own childhood. He didn’t know who his birth parents were or even where he was born. Bart bounced from family to family and village to village as each family got tired of caring for the boy. The last family even accused him of doing evil, vile things. The woman gave birth to a new baby while Bart was there. The baby disappeared from the hut one night, and they found him dead in the forest. They blamed Bart for the child’s death. They would have hung him, but they had no proof that he did it, so instead, they banished him from the village. That was two years ago. Bart had only been eleven years old. He never even tried to stay with a family after that. He didn’t need them. He could make it on his own! Now, here he was again. In another town and surrounded by people. He figured he’d stay long enough to fill his belly, rest, and then move on. He didn’t trust people. He was better off on his own.

Bart looked up from his reverie and realized it had gotten dark, and Jonah was still talking. “I’m sorry, Jonah. I zoned out. I’m tired. Can you show me where Cecilia wants me to sleep?”

“Sure. Come on.” Jonah got up and led Bart to a room at the very back of the inn. “Right in here. The washroom is across the hall, and my room is right next to yours if you need anything. Goodnight, Bart. I’m glad we talked.” Jonah walked away and left Bart alone in the room.

 

Rise of the Cursed Twins (Chapter 3)

Chapter 3

The great green dragon, Colossus, soared through the bright blue, cloudless sky. His mission for Bahaar was complete, so he flew towards the north, looking for a suitable new home. He flew up and over a chain of mountains. Down the other side of the hills, he soared. Colossus spied a small town at the base of the mountains and at the edge of a great forest. He wanted to avoid towns, but he was curious about what kinds of creatures lived near where he might choose a home. He flew over the village. Gnomes. The corners of Colossus’s mouth twitched in what was as close to a dragon can get to a smile. Gnomes once freed Colossus from a very hefty burden and allowed him to explore the world. Colossus’s mind wandered back to that story as he continued his flight north, searching for a home.

 

A long time ago, a colony of gnomes lived in the northern kingdom. The gnomes were a peaceful race. Most young gnomes learned the healing trades, healing both plants and animals. Whether physicians or arborists, they helped as much as they could. Most gnomish families were comprised of a mother, a father, and three or four children. The eldest child, male or female, inherited the parents’ lands. Upon adulthood, the other children would complete their training in their chosen field and leave the family home. If they were lucky, they would find work within the colony. If not, they were sent out into the world. Gnome healers were the best in all the lands. They could be found in every kingdom in all the known world.

Within this colony, in the town of Gnarlack, there lived a vast family of gnomes consisting of nine brothers. A tragedy recently struck the family. Wild beasts killed their parents. Their parents regularly traveled back and forth between villages, and on one such trip, they never returned. The family estate was quite large, as were the flourishing physician practices left by both parents. Knowing he needed help, the eldest brother agreed to recognize the second eldest as an equal partner in the estate.

The younger seven brothers met one night after their elder brothers retired to their beds. The most senior spoke first. “My brothers, we must decide what we are to do. Our elder brothers are searching for wives and running the estate. When they start families of their own, there will be no place for us here, yet we are not old enough to start our own estates. Let us devise a plan so we are not displaced with nowhere to go.”

One of the younger brothers yelled out. “Adventure!”

Another young sibling chimed in. “Yes! Adventure! Let’s explore the lands outside the colony, my brothers!”

A third brother added. “All of us together!”

The eldest spoke again. “Do you all want this? It may be a tough life to leave the colony so young. With all of us together, though, we should be able to handle whatever comes our way.” He looked at the youngest, a tiny gnome of just seven summers. “Brody, you are the youngest of us. If you agree to this and are willing to risk the wild unknown, I will also agree to go.”

“Josiah, it was I who first shouted for adventure. I love our farm, our colony, but let us go and find new things.” Brody replied with a grin.

Josiah cleared his throat and looked from one brother to the next, looking directly at each one. “Very well, then. We will begin gathering supplies tomorrow and leave within a fortnight.”

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The brothers gathered around the large, dark crevice in the earth. They left their town, their entire colony, behind weeks ago. They passed through several small human villages and met a few traveling gnomes. However, they mostly followed the mountain’s edge towards the west, looking for a passage through the mountains. They dreamed of traveling south. They knew of no gnome who traveled beyond the hills and wished they would find a way to be the first.

In their journey, they made no new discoveries or exciting adventures until now. Josiah dropped a stone into the crevice, and they could not hear it hit bottom. He looked at his brothers and spoke. “We’ve wanted an adventure. The south wall of this crevice looks climbable. Shall we go down into the crevice or pass it by?”

The third eldest brother, Ezekiel, spoke. “I say we go—all of us. If only one climbed down and all was well, time would be wasted returning for the rest of us. And if there is danger, it would be safer for all of us to be together.”

They all agreed on the plan and began the descent into the crevice.

 

The gnome brothers, now on the floor of the impossibly deep chasm, huddled together. Brody looked up, eyes wide. “I can’t even see the sky anymore. And what’s with the weird blue glow coming off the river?”

A wide river wound through the chasm, disappearing into the distance. The blue glow from the river dimly lit the abyss and made the gnomes’ pale yellow skin look almost the same shade of blue as their eyes. 

Josiah spoke. “Brothers, this is an extraordinary thing we have found. The chasm is so deep that we cannot see the sky, yet this river glows with a blue light. I’ve never seen or even heard of anything like this. Shall we continue ahead or climb out of this place?”

Brody answered. “Josiah,” he looked around the circle. “all my brothers, it is because it is new, different, and weird that we should go forward. We left our town to find a new place for us in the world. We wanted an adventure, and this is that adventure. I say we go forward, not back to the same old boring things on the surface.”

The other five brothers all voiced agreement with Brody. After a brief rest, they all got up and followed the river upstream. The river wound through the rock, sometimes winding one way and sometimes back the other way. The cavern surrounding the river was always uniformly large. The small-statured gnomes felt even smaller than usual in such a large cavern. Even Josiah, the eldest and almost an adult, stood barely four feet tall. The diameter of the cavern had to be over fifty feet.

The gnomes lost all track of time in the weirdly glowing caverns. There was no sun, moon, or stars to judge the passage of time. Days, weeks, months, they no longer knew. They were tired. They were hungry. They bickered with each other about every little thing, with one exception. They all agreed they had to continue forward and not back towards the crevice.

The sameness of their seemingly unending journey numbed their minds, and they almost failed to notice the sparkling green lights flickering all around them. The second youngest, Jaedon, noticed first. “Brothers!” Shouted Jaedon. “Look! All around us, even on us, sparkly green light! I’ve seen nothing like it since we’ve been down here. What can it mean?”

Matheus, the middle of the seven, replied. “Jaedon, you are right. It’s the first different thing we have seen down here in a very long time. Let us hurry. Maybe we are near the end of our journey.”

The brothers quickened their pace and rounded the next corner. As one, all seven stopped dead in their tracks. The tunnel ended in a cavern that was even more massive than the tunnel itself. The ceiling loomed at least a hundred feet over their heads. The glowing blue river ended at an enormous lake that glowed with the same blue light. A waterfall cascaded down into the opposite end of the lake. The waterfall flowed out of a crevice near the top of the cavern.

All of this amazed the gnomes. However, these wonders paled in comparison to the cavern’s lone occupant. A tremendous green dragon sat quietly beside the lake, staring at the gnomes. The dragon lowered its head until it looked straight at them with its massive yellow-green eyes. “Who are you, little creatures, and how did you find your way into my domain? I have been here for an eternity, and you are the first beings I have seen since the elders left me here. Why have you come to the source of all magic? If your intentions are evil, I will destroy you. Answer quickly, but answer true. I will know if you lie to me.”

While the dragon spoke, the gnomes fell to their knees and bowed their heads to him. Josiah lifted his head, looked directly into the dragon’s eyes, and stood. “Oh, great and powerful lord dragon, we are humble gnomes from the village of Gnarlack. Our parents were killed in the forest by beasts, and our two elder brothers took over the care of our home. We decided to adventure out to find our own way in the world. We discovered a massive crevice in the ground, leading us here. We knew not of the existence of this place or of you. If we are unwelcome, we will gladly leave and never return.” Josiah fell to his knees and bowed his head.

The dragon’s eyes narrowed in concentration, then he opened his eyes, looked at the group of gnomes, and spoke. “Stand, little gnomes, for I sense the truth in your story and goodness in your hearts. My name is Colossus, and I was the first living creature created by the Elders, whom you refer to as the Enkali. I stand guard over the source of all magic, and I have since my creation. The hole in the ground of which you speak should not exist. Since you spoke of it, I have searched with my mind and found seven such holes throughout the world. This troubles me. I possess great power, but I still cannot protect seven places simultaneously.”

Brody allowed his childish emotions to escape and interrupted Colossus’s speech. “Lord Colossus, sir. Oh, great and powerful dragon, there are seven of us. May we assist you?”

Colossus swung his massive head towards Brody. “Little one, silence your rude and loud tongue! However, you make an interesting point. Seven gnomes, seven chasms. The fates may smile on me this day.” He looked at them all in turn. “After thousands of years in this cavern, I am weary of my task. I long to see the outside world. Now, with those chasms, my task becomes even more difficult. If you all are willing, I could grant you immortal life and bestow upon you great power. There would be conditions and limitations, however.”

Jaedon scrunched up his tiny face and looked up at the dragon. “What do you mean by conditions and limitations?”

Colossus began to speak again. “What I mean, young gnome, is that though you would have unlimited access to the purest form of magic, you would only be able to wield it when someone casts a wish. The one casting the wish must make an offering fitting the wish they cast. Furthermore, the fulfillment of the wish must not affect the balance of good and evil. Keeping the balance is the most important task. I don’t mean the individual’s wish can’t benefit a good or an evil cause. It can. The wish may not unbalance good and evil for all time.”

The brothers began speaking amongst themselves. They made their decision, and Josiah stepped forward. “Lord Colossus, we came looking for adventure and our place in this world. You offer more than we ever dreamed possible. We wish to help you. What must we do?”

Colossus looked them over and nodded to himself. “First, I must test you, mind, body, and soul. Dip yourselves into the river of magic and return to me.”

The gnomes completed the task and returned to stand before Colossus. Brody spoke to the dragon. “Lord Colossus, we dipped ourselves into the magic. What more do you require of us?” Brody waited expectantly for an answer.

The dragon did not speak. He, instead, drew his head back and belched forth green fire. The dragon fire engulfed all seven gnomes. The gnomes screeched in pain and surprise. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the fire disappeared.

The gnomes looked at each other, and all started talking at once. Then, Jaedon disappeared in a flash of light. The remaining six brothers were all struck speechless. They turned and looked everywhere, looking for their missing brother. Auberon disappeared not a minute later.

Josiah spun around to face Colossus. “Lord Dragon? What happened to my two brothers? Have we failed your test?” Before Colossus could answer, a scream from Brody interrupted them.

“Josiah! Josiah! Ezekial and Zhalker disappeared, too! Shall we disappear next?” Brody buried his face into his brother’s sleeve and wept. Josiah turned towards where his remaining two brothers stood just in time to witness Matheus and Brody disappear in twin flashes of light. Suddenly, Josiah found himself alone with the great dragon. He turned and faced Colossus. “Oh, great and powerful dragon, have we failed? Are my brothers all dead? Am I next? In your infinite power, could you grant us another chance?”

Colossus looked down at the tiny gnome. “My little friend, quite the opposite is true. You have all passed the test and been accepted as the new guardians of the source of magic. I have been freed from my bonds. I am forever in your debt.”

“What happened to my brothers, Lord Colossus?” Josiah asked, concern still in his shaky voice.

“They have been sent to the other six chasms I spoke of before. The knowledge they need to perform their task has been given to them by the elders. You are the guardian of the chasm above us. I will tell you the rest of what you need to know.”

Josiah sighed in noticeable relief. “It is good to know that my brothers are alive and safe. I will never see them again, though, will I?”

Colossus bent his head down close to Josiah. “No, my friend, you most likely will not. Sit a moment, and I will tell you of your task as guardian.”

“As you wish, my Lord Dragon.” Josiah sat in front of the dragon’s snout and listened.

Colossus began. “As a guardian, you must protect the chasm from intruders. No one must be allowed to enter, such as you and your brothers did. Build a well over the mouth of the chasm. The well will become a symbol of the wishes that can be granted. You now have immortal life and unlimited power, but both are tied to the wish magic. Other beings that draw upon the magic draw upon it diluted through the land. The source funnels magic into all living things. That is the magic that those in the land above draw upon. Only you and your brothers draw upon the undiluted source. You can only use the magic in response to a wish, however. And even then, you may never unbalance the scales of good and evil. An individual wish may seem good or evil, but the wish must not alter the overall balance. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Colossus, I understand.” Josiah nodded, still listening intently to the dragon.

“One final thing before I leave you. You only remain immortal if you remain near your well. If you abandon your post as a guardian, your powers will fade, and time will catch up to you. Do you still accept this responsibility?” Colossus waited for his response.

“Yes, Lord Colossus, I understand and willingly accept this responsibility. I know the limitations and consequences of all you told me.” He bowed his head to the dragon.

“Do not fear, little gnome. One last bit of dragon fire to send you on your way.” Colossus breathed a puff of fire that surrounded Josiah. Josiah disappeared in a flash of light as his brothers had before him.

Alone again in the cavern that has been his only home throughout his unnaturally long life, Colossus leaned down and took a deep drink from the river of pure magic. Then, he, too, disappeared in a flash of light.

Colossus reappeared in a lush green forest. He looked around at all the things that he had never seen before. He breathed in deeply of the fresh, clean air. Finally, for the first time, he flapped his massive wings and rose into the air. He roared in happiness and excitement as he flew off to start an adventure of his own.

 

Colossus’s mind cleared, and he, once again, became aware of his present-day surroundings. He flew many miles while his mind wandered through the past. He was now near the intersection of two mountain chains, near the land of the trolls. He landed outside of Troll Nation and found a suitable cave for a home. Colossus was tired from his journey and settled in for a long, well-deserved sleep.

 

Rise of the Cursed Twins (Chapter 2)

Chapter 2

After weeks of hard flying and little rest, the great, green dragon Colossus crested the top of the mountains, leaving the scorching desert behind. He saw a land dotted by rivers, lakes, and forests spread out below. He flew in ever-decreasing circles, surveying the land, finally settling onto the lush, green grass of a meadow by a large lake. He had not seen a single drop of water in the last four days. He leaned down and took a long drink of the cold, crystal-clear water, even dunking his head under the water to cool down. After flying over the hot, dry desert and the tall snow-capped mountains, Colossus was bone-weary tired.

A small yet determined cry reminded him of the task at hand. He opened the claw of his left forefoot and gingerly dropped the baby on the grass. Far from Talamh Arsa, and with the Endless Desert separating the lands, this should be as good a place as any to find a home for Bahaar’s son. He could smell the stench of dark magic emanating from the baby but could sense no evil intentions from him. He could not just leave the child to fend for himself in the forest, so he decided to scout to see what manner of creatures lived in this land. He took another long drink of water, flapped his massive wings, and flew off into the distance, the baby once again clutched in his giant claw.

 

————————————————————————————————————

 

Colossus landed just outside of a small village. The inhabitants of the town, obviously seeing his arrival, gathered at the edge of the village, weapons in hand. Colossus could smell their fear but also their courage. The weapons they held looked more adapted to farming than war. Colossus shook his head in wonder. These creatures looked remarkably like the baby he clutched in his claw. However, that should be no surprise, as Andharia helped create everything. When she cast the curse, she must have had the look of these creatures in the back of her mind.

Colossus stared at the villagers gathered before him. They were tall and broad-shouldered, covered in a thick coat of shaggy brown fur. They had large, curved horns on their heads and wide nostrils on their snouts. They stood on two legs, which ended in hooves. The only difference between them and the baby that Colossus could readily discern was that his newly emerging horns were black. The horns of all these villagers were ivory.

Colossus spoke to them in the old tongue, hoping they knew it, knowing they would not understand dragon speech. “Greetings, brave creatures. My name is Colossus, and I have come from across the Endless Desert searching for a new home for this baby. Though he is not of your kind, he more closely resembles you than any other race I have found.” He watched their faces and waited.

One among them stepped forward. “My Lord Dragon, we are honored by your presence. None of your kind has visited these lands in our lifetime. I am Aleksei. My brethren do not speak this language. I was taught to speak it by the elves when I visited their homeland.” He peered at the baby. “What manner of creature is this? And why would you travel such great distances only to give him to us?”

Colossus leaned his massive head down so he could look directly into the eyes of the minotaur. He narrowed his eyes in concentration and spoke. “I took you for a simple farming community. I am surprised that you have elf-taught knowledge. Have others in your village studied with the elves?”

“No. Only the eldest son of the Tribal Chieftain learns the old tongue from the elves. There has not been a dragon sighted in these lands in longer than my lifetime. What is it that brings you to these lands, Lord Dragon?”

“I have come to find a suitable home for this babe. He comes from a faraway land and needs a new home.”

“What manner of beast is he? His black fur and ebony horns give him a look of evil, yet a gentleness in his eyes is rarely seen in such a beast.”

Colossus sighed a heavy sigh. “I will share a part of his story with you. He is a cursed demi-god. He was born of a human mother and fathered by the king of the gods. He was cursed while still in the womb by the jealous queen. She cursed him to be evil inside and for his appearance to reflect that. I sense no evil from this child, however. I do not think that the curse fully touched him. I will stay nearby to monitor his growth, but if he grows up with others who resemble him, he may stand a better chance of living a normal life.”

“I sense the truth in your words and agree with your assessment, Lord Dragon. I, Aleksei of the Minotaurs, and my wife, Senja, will welcome the babe into our home as one of our own. I will tell no one, other than my wife, his true origins. Do you know his name, Lord Dragon?”

Colossus pondered a moment. “I do not. He was banished from the kingdom before he could be named.”

“I will call him Krycus. A good strong name for a good strong babe.” Aleksei said while reaching down and lifting Krycus into his arms.

“I thank you, Aleksei of the Minotaurs, and I will not forget your kindness. I will know and come if you or young Krycus ever need my assistance. Otherwise, I will not bother you again. Farewell, Aleksei.” With that, Colossus turned and, with a massive flap of his wings, rose high into the air and disappeared from sight.

 

————————————————————————————————————

 

Colossus flew in wide, arcing circles across the length and breadth of Talamh Thar. He was searching for a race with which he could entrust certain secrets. Colossus knew that someday, the troubles of Talamh Arsa would spread into the new land. Talamh Thar needed guardians. The minotaurs were good, hardy creatures but were still just simple folk and relatively few in number. Colossus flew past the armored cities of the war-like dwarves, the elves’ homes hidden deep in their forests. He flew past schools of merfolk splashing with the dolphins in the sea and the giants’ simple villages in the fields and hills. Then, Colossus found the humans. Back in the old country, humans were clustered in small towns and were few in number. Here, they were spread out in dozens of towns and cities of varying sizes. Their numbers were vast. Colossus made the decision to entrust his secrets to humans. Colossus spotted a large castle atop a hill at the edge of the most significant human city. He circled one more time and then landed near the castle.

Soldiers flooded out of the castle’s front gate, and archers lined the parapets. Colossus cocked his head to the side and came as close as a dragon can to smiling. He blew out a thin stream of fire several feet in front of the line of soldiers and watched as they retreated and cowered in fear. The archers rained arrows down upon the dragon, but they bounced harmlessly off his scaly hide.

Colossus sat and stared as the soldiers scurried around, trying to decide what to do about him. The dragon noticed a man standing on the highest tower. The man was watching everything. Colossus noted that the man was not dressed as a soldier and had a golden circlet on his brow. The dragon knew immediately that this must be their king. Colossus stood and bowed his head toward the king.

King Tarquinn surveyed the scene below him. A creature of legend, a dragon, stood in his courtyard. The king’s first instinct was to protect his people and his castle. He deployed his formidable army, which resulted in an embarrassing failure. No weapon could pierce the dragon’s hide. When a strange thing happened, Tarquinn contemplated his next move; the great green dragon’s gaze fell upon him. The dragon stared, and the king stared back. Tarquinn’s hand instinctively reached for his sword when the dragon stood and moved toward him, but then the dragon bowed. Tarquinn was stunned. It wasn’t just a figment of his imagination; the dragon bowed toward the king, then lay down and rested its massive head between its front legs. The dragon seemed to be waiting for something or for someone. Tarquinn made a decision. He descended the tower and stepped outside of his castle. Flanked by his two most senior generals, Tarquinn stepped forward, stood before the mighty dragon, and bowed. “Greetings, Lord Dragon. Is there any manner in which we may communicate? I would greatly like to hear your reason for visiting my humble kingdom.”

Colossus was impressed that the human king returned his bow with one of his own. The dragon drew in a breath and blew out a thin stream of dragon smoke, which encircled the king. The two generals leaped forward, but Tarquinn yelled to stop them before they could act. “No! Stop! It’s ok. The smoke isn’t hurting me. There’s a slight itching and burning sensation on my right bicep.” Tarquinn pulled down his shirt and stared in wonder at the bright green dragon claw tattoo on his right arm. He looked wonderingly at the dragon. “Why did you do this?”

“I granted you Dragon Speech so you could understand me. I judge you as a kind and noble king, and I need your assistance.”

“You have already granted me a gift for which I can never repay you. Ask anything, and I will grant it.”

“I need you and your people to be the guardians of this land. A watchdog, so to speak. I have come from the land beyond the Sands of Eternity, the great desert to your west. I did not come alone. I brought with me a cursed demi-god. He needed a home far from where he came from, and I have chosen to leave him with the minotaurs.”

“Beyond the sands to the west, you say? Some have ventured in, but none have ever returned. We call it the Death Sands.” The king turned to one of his generals. “Send for a tent and a chair for me. Have drinks and food sent out as well.” The general yelled out orders to a soldier who stood nearby. The king turned back to Colossus. “Sorry for that interruption, Lord Dragon. Continue your tale.”

“The Death Sands, as you call them, would be near impossible for humans to cross without knowledge of the terrain and an arsenal to defend against what lives within the desert. That is a tale for another day, though. For now, you must learn of the boy and his history.”

“I am still amazed that I am speaking to a dragon, and now we will speak of a demi-god. How is this possible? I have so many questions. Why did you choose me to speak to? Why did you leave the demi-god with the minotaurs? They are such a simple and peaceful race! Why did you take the baby so far from his home?” While speaking, the soldiers constructed a tent around the king and brought him his throne. They got a table and filled it full of drinks and food for the king and the generals. Last, they also brought Colossus a cow and two sheep to satiate his hunger.

The green dragon licked his lips and thanked the king for the meal. “To answer your questions, King Tarquinn, I chose the minotaurs for two reasons. Reason one is that they are a simple and peaceful race, as you say. The second reason is that the curse caused the baby’s appearance to change, and he now resembles a minotaur. There are differences, but he resembles them more closely than any other race.”

“That makes sense, but why come to us? Why grant me Dragon Speech?”

“I flew the length and breadth of this land. I passed over the war-like dwarves. I passed over the hidden and reclusive elves. I passed over the people of the sea, the syreni. I passed over the trolls in their mountain caves. I passed over many other races. In Talamh Arsa, the land I came from, humans are simple folk. They live in small villages without centralized organization. You have come far here in Talamh Thar. Your people have flourished. If dark days envelop this land, humans will play a key role in saving the world.”

“You speak highly of both me and my race, Lord Dragon. I am honored.”

“I hope I am not misjudging you,” Colossus said, staring intently at Tarquinn. “As to why I brought the baby here, the answer is both simple and complex at the same time. The simple answer is that King Bahaar did not want it known that the cursed and grotesque child was of his blood. It was his Queen, Andharia, who cursed the babe. Bahaar mated with a human woman and impregnated her. Andharia cursed the child while he was still in the womb. Upon his birth, his mother was killed, and he was banished.”

“Political drama and jealousy amongst the gods. I am not sure if that is comforting or frightening.” Tarquinn said.

“That answers your question, but it is not the whole story I must tell you.” The dragon said. “The curse is of the old magic. Though I do not sense evil within him, he may yet draw evil to him. You need to know the history of the old magic and these beings I call gods.”

“Did you warn the minotaurs of this danger?”

“In vague terms only. I did not feel that they would have understood. That is why I am here with you now.”

“I am ready to listen, Lord Dragon.”

Colossus began his story. “Back before recorded time, there was one being before anything else. A being so powerful that words have no explanation. This being grew tired of the empty void and eternal aloneness. He decided to create a planet on which he could then create life. He gathered all of his magical energies and focused them on the creation of this planet. Even with all his power, he couldn’t stop what happened next. He expended so much energy that he splintered into twelve separate entities. As they each awoke, they began to realize what happened. They also discovered that their former self’s remaining energy now flowed like a river under the ground of their new home. The river’s magic seeped into the earth, imbuing everything with a small amount of magic.”

Colossus stopped his story and leaned closer to Tarquinn. “This is still true today, king. The river of magic flows beneath our feet, and every plant and animal holds minute traces of magic within them.”

“That is amazing, Lord Dragon. I never knew.”

“It is the source of magic powers. Whether they know the source or not, they draw magic from everywhere. Untrained mages can draw too much from one source and kill it.”

“No wonder they go through such long apprenticeships.”

“True.” Colossus settled his head back onto his mighty forelegs. “The twelve attempted to recombine into their one true form. They tried for months, maybe years. Finally, they gave up and started experimenting with what they could do as twelve separate entities. They soon discovered that the power of creation required all twelve to work together. I was the result of their first successful attempt. I was the first of dragons, the oldest living being except for the twelve themselves.”

“Wow! That’s impressive!” Tarquinn bowed his head toward Colossus.

“The twelve, who now referred to themselves as elders, set me the task of guarding the source of magic. I was confined to the underground cavern for thousands of years until fate intervened, and I could pass my task on to others. With the magic now guarded, the elders were free to roam. They took pride in creating small things independently but were forced to work together to create life. They started developing their own personalities and took on the separate names that we know them by today. They spent their days creating small things. Some made flowers and trees and other vegetation.

In contrast, when the twelve met again, others contemplated new ideas for small animals, insects, and birds. The world was filling up with all manner of life. One among them grew bored. His name was Ashael. He started experimenting with darker aspects of his powers, such as combining life forms to create new things, grotesque things. He began killing things only to bring them back to life. Some of Ashael’s creations escaped from his laboratories and began destroying Ashael’s siblings’ creations.

When the others realized the problem, it had grown so severe that it was too late to stop. The dark magic had warped and changed Ashael. He was now the first of the Shadowkin. The eternal war between the Elders and the Shadowkin had begun. The creatures that Ashael had brought back from the dead had the power to infect those that they touched. The Shadowkin gained numbers amazingly quickly. The eleven remaining Elders searched for Ashael, but he had disappeared. He has never been seen to this day. It is assumed that he still lives but has chosen to live in hiding.

For centuries, the elders chased the shadowkin across the lands. Around them, the world changed. The other races grew and spread across the globe. Towns and, eventually, cities were built. Stories about the two warring groups were told over and over. The elders became known as the Enkali. The mysterious Ashael and his Shadowkin became legends of terror to scare children of all races into obeying their parents.”

Tarquinn stood and stretched his limbs. He took a drink of water. “That is an amazing story, Lord Dragon. We have heard variations of similar stories. We never dreamed they were true!”

“I am not surprised that variations of the stories have reached this far. My story is not yet finished, King Tarquinn. What I have told you is but history. I told you all that to prepare you for how things currently are and how they may directly affect the lands in which you live.”

“In that case, I am quite interested, and you have my undivided attention, Lord Dragon,” Tarquinn said.

“As I have said, the Unending War has raged for thousands of years. The Shadowkin, soon followed by the Enkali, arrived in Talamh Arsa over a thousand years ago. The elves were drawn into the fight but soon fled the land. They entered the desert, and their descendants may now live in the forests to your south. It is unlikely, though possible, that any stayed in the desert.”

“Elves are a hardy bunch, but I agree with you. Why stay in that horrible, hellish desert?”

“Exactly my thinking. The truth is probably written in the elven histories, but they are hidden even from most elves.”

“Odd. We teach our history to all our young.”

“The elves are different and more secretive than most other races. That is one of the reasons why I did not choose them in my quest to find a guardian for this land.”

“My people and I are humbled that you chose us.”

The dragon cocked his head and smiled his dragony smile. “Back to my tale. So, the battle raged across Talamh Arsa for hundreds of years. The elves fled, and the dragons and our kin retreated to the northern mountains. This left the Enkali and Shadowkin to battle each other. Other races, like the humans, were sometimes caught in the middle, but they mostly stayed out of the way. Then, the Enkali made a breakthrough. Close to five hundred years ago, they created silver control collars. Once the collars were in place around the neck of a Shadowkin, that Shadowkin was under the complete control of the Enkali. Now, as far as anyone knows, every Shadowkin is collared. There has been a more extended period of peace in the land than has been known for a long time.

Now that you know a brief history let me tell you about my fears about our current situation and why I want the baby to be watched closely. When Andharia cursed the baby, the Enkali made the first use of dark magic since Ashael. I fear that the birth of the babe and the release of the dark magic within him may stir up the Shadowkin and draw Ashael himself out of the shadows.”

“Those are indeed some dire fears. It is a mission of grave importance that you place upon the shoulders of my people.”

“The mark that I placed upon you will be handed down to the firstborn son of each generation. Ensure your heirs know this story and contact me if any sign of the Shadowkin appears within these lands. I will hear the thoughts of any who bear that tattoo if those thoughts are directed towards me.”

“I will do as you ask, Lord Dragon. You will not regret your decision to put your trust in us.”

Colossus nodded his head. He rose and stretched his limbs, and then the dragon turned and flew off into the sky with a flap of his massive wings.

 

Rise of the Cursed Twins (Chapter 1)

Chapter 1

The door shuddered within its frame seconds before shattering into thousands of tiny fragments. The woman inside the room barely had time to cover her face before being showered with the demolished remains of her front door. An overwhelming scent of decay hit her, and she looked up as a cloaked and hooded figure stepped inside the room. The creature, a Shadowkin, spoke with a low, gravelly voice, “Kylia Ztalpo, bow before her Majesty, Queen of the Enkali, Andharia!”

Kylia could hardly believe what she heard, but she considered the red glowing eyes of the Shadowkin and complied without question. She fell to her knees and bowed her head towards what remained of the door to her hut. Queen Andharia stepped through the doorway and glared at the woman before her with a look of pure contempt.

“Human woman, do you know why I have come to you?” asked Andharia.

Shaking with awe and fear, Kylia spoke, her voice faltering and cracking. “My Queen, I know not why you have come to my humble home.”

Andharia shook her head in disgust. “I am unsurprised that he is as deceitful with you as he always is with me. The man you have lain with these last three nights is my husband, your King, Bahaar.”

“No! I did not know! He did not tell me he was the King! Please do not kill me, your Majesty!” Kylia’s eyes were wide with terror, and her hands were raised in front of her face as if to ward off an attack.

“Child, I will not harm you.” Andharia placed her hand on Kylia’s stomach. “His seed grows within your belly. Even I dare not kill a child of Bahaar, but this act cannot go unpunished.”

Kylia felt her entire body tingle as the ancient magic flowed from Andharia and into Kylia’s abdomen. Kylia gasped, “What… what are you doing to me?”

Andharia stood over Kylia and spoke. “Your child will be born healthy and live well, the long, full life of a child of the Enkali. However, he will be cursed with a deep hatred for all those around him. The blackness of his soul will be reflected in his outward appearance.” With that said, Andharia looked once more at Kylia, then turned and left the hut.

Kylia huddled into the corner of the room and cried for the dismal fate of her unborn child. She would not see Andharia or Bahaar again until the day she gave birth.

 

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Screams filled the air, echoing throughout the village. Word reached the Enkali that Kylia was in labor. Bahaar, Andharia, and two Shadowkin gathered outside her hut, awaiting the birth. As the sun passed the midpoint of the sky, the screams inside the cabin reached a crescendo before stopping completely. A pale and fearful midwife staggered out of the hut carrying a baby wrapped tightly in a bundle of cloth. She bowed her head and extended the baby towards Bahaar.

Bahaar looked at the baby and recoiled in disgust. “What is this monstrosity? Where is my child? Take this beast away and give me my child, human!” The King was enraged and glared at the midwife.

Andharia spoke from behind Bahaar. “That is your son, husband. I warned you that your infidelities would have dire consequences. Your child is as grotesque as the act which created him.” Andharia smiled even as Bahaar grew angrier.

“You will pay dearly for this, wife.” Bahaar scowled as he turned away from Andharia. He motioned for the two Shadowkin to come closer to him, and he gave each a command. The first one he sent to the northern mountains to summon Colossus, the ancient dragon. To the other Shadowkin, he said, “Go into that hut and dispose of those two humans. I cannot kill my own son, but none can know that this deformed beast is of my blood.”

The first Shadowkin mounted his horse and rode north as the second entered Kylia’s hut. Moments later, he returned to King Bahaar. “Master, the humans fled. Their tracks lead to the eastern forests. Shall I follow?”

“Go. Track the humans down. Do not return to me until both are dead.” said Bahaar. The Shadowkin turned and left, following the tracks into the forest.

 

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Colossus could smell the stench of the Shadowkin before he saw him. He despised the Shadowkin. Colossus thought about older times while the unnatural creature made his way up to the dragon’s den. Colossus was among the last dragons who remembered when the Shadowkin and Enkali came to this land. He longed for the old days when it was just the dragons, the drakes, and the elves. The elves suffered heavy losses in the war between Shadowkin and Enkali. Before the war was over, the elves decided that enough was enough and had left Talamh Arsa, never to return. Sometimes, Colossus wished he had gone with them. He tried and failed to convince the other dragons to leave Talamh Arsa with the elves. The other dragons argued that they could not leave their smaller dragon cousins, the drakes, alone in a land now filled with powerful magical races at war with each other. Colossus thought the drakes could defend themselves, but he stayed with his kin. Drakes are much smaller than dragons but are fierce fighters. Drakes, about twenty feet in height at the shoulder, have short legs compared to their body size, giving them a low center of gravity and making it nearly impossible for them to be beaten on the ground.

On the other hand, the dragons are fifty feet at the shoulder with long legs and large, heavy wings. The air belongs to the dragons. Colossus’s thoughts were interrupted as the Shadowkin reached his den and called out to him.

Colossus wrinkled his nose in distaste. All he could smell was the foul odor of the dark magic eating through the skin of the Shadowkin from the inside out. Colossus only tolerated the creature because he knew Bahaar sent it to him. Colossus stepped into the light at the entrance to his den and spoke. “What is it that the king asks of me this time, foul creature?”

After listening to what the Shadowkin had to say, Colossus stepped past him. With a thrust of his heavily muscled legs and a flap of his enormous green wings, Colossus was airborne and flying quickly to the south where Bahaar waited. Minutes later, Colossus landed on the outskirts of the human village. He bowed his powerful neck low to the ground. “Your Majesty, you called for me? How may I be of service?”

Bahaar told Colossus about his son’s birth and the effects of Andharia’s curse upon the boy. “Colossus, my old friend, I cannot kill my own son, but I cannot have it known that this wretched beast is of my royal blood. Take him far away from here, but watch over him. If he does the evil deeds that the curse suggests, do what you judge appropriate. I would not ask this of you if I did not feel that it was of the utmost importance.”

Colossus bowed his head again. “It shall be done, my King. I will take the beast past the eastern desert and find a suitable place for him in a new land. I will watch for any signs of evil that he may cause.” Colossus carefully took the baby in one giant claw and flew back towards his den.

 

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The Shadowkin called Ihlvo tracked the two human females deep into the forest. Soon after entering the forest, he did not even have to bother looking for footprints. The smell of blood overwhelmed his senses. He could have tracked it from miles away. Ihlvo heard screams off in the distance, in the same direction as the blood smell, and quickened his pace. Ihlvo entered the clearing unnoticed and watched the human called Kylia give birth to another baby. He saw that this baby was not malformed like the other, but he could sense the curse’s dark magic flowing through the baby. Ihlvo, being a creature of dark magic, could feel what happened to Andharia’s curse. The curse was directed at a single child. Because the woman had given birth to twins, the curse had split. The first child had the effects of the curse flowing on the outside of his body. Therefore, this one must have dark magic inside of him. Ihlvo smiled to himself as many thoughts went through his mind. His centuries-long search for a way to free himself and his brethren from their enslavement at the hands of the Enkali may be at an end. Maybe, just maybe, Bahaar’s own child could be the key to their freedom. Still unnoticed by the two humans, Ihlvo stalked up behind them, snapping the neck of the midwife before either human was even aware of his presence.

Kylia heard a cracking sound and then a loud thump. She glanced up from looking at her baby and saw the midwife sprawled at her feet with her neck bent at an unusual angle. Standing over the body was a Shadowkin. Kylia screamed in fear, clutching the baby closer to her chest.

Ihlvo stepped over the fallen body of the midwife and stood directly over Kylia. “Give the child to me, human, and he will not only live, but he will also accomplish great things. Bahaar banished your other child from the kingdom, but I will hide this one from him. Bahaar will never know he exists.”

Kylia looked at Ihlvo in confusion. “Why would you want to help my baby? What would you gain from this? Have you not come here at Bahaar’s orders to kill me?”

“Yes. I have been ordered to kill you. However, Bahaar knows nothing of your second son. Therefore, I was not given any orders at all concerning him. I sense great potential in the child. Give your son to me if you want him to survive.” Ihlvo reached towards Kylia.

Kylia shuddered as the Shadowkin reached for her. “I know I have no other choice. Take him. His name is Bartholomew. I know I will die, but I want my sons to live. If it is not too late, please hide his brother as well. Name him Zachariah. I saw his appearance before he was taken away from me, but I do not care. I love both my sons and want them to live.”

“The dragon, Colossus, has taken Zachariah away. There is nothing I can do for him. He will not be killed but, instead, taken across the eastern desert, far from this kingdom.” Ihlvo reached down and took Bartholomew from Kylia’s grasp. With the baby cradled in one arm, he drew his sword with the other and plunged it deep into Kylia’s chest. Ihlvo withdrew the sword and slid it back into its sheath. Holding the baby close, he disappeared into the forest.

 

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Colossus arrived back at his den, still thinking over the instruction given to him by King Bahaar. His mate, Atlantia, greeted him, the late afternoon sunlight sparkling off her bright blue scales. The ice dragon looked up at her mate. “You seem anxious, dear one. What has the King asked of you this time?”

“You know my moods better than even I, my love.” Colossus nearly purred. Then he sighed and dropped a cloth-covered bundle from his left foreclaw onto the ground before her. The bundle moved and then started to cry.

She nudged the bundle gently with her snout. The cloth moved and revealed the baby’s face. Atlantia pulled back quickly, with a look of shock on her face. “What is it, Colossus? Why has the King given you this beast?” Before he could reply, she sniffed the air and bent down close to the baby again. “I smell the taint of dark magic.” She looked questioningly at her mate, waiting for an explanation.

“The beast is Bahaar’s son by a mortal woman. The dark magic is a curse cast by Andharia. The King could not bear to destroy his son, so he asked me to take him out of this land and across the Endless Desert.” Colossus said.

Atlantia shook her head. “Cheating men and jealous women. Even the gods are not immune to such things. When shall we leave?” Atlantia asked.

“Not we. Me. Please stay here, Atlantia. I sense momentous events unfolding. I need you here to lead the other dragons and defend the drakes. They will follow you the same as they follow me.” Colossus said.

Atlantia looked thoughtful. “I don’t like the idea of you going across the desert alone, but I trust your judgment. Hurry with your task and come home to me.”

“I may have to stay there for quite some time, but I will send you dream messages with my progress. I will come home as soon as I can ensure the beast will cause no harm.” Colossus said.

“Be safe, dear one.” Atlantia disappeared back into the den.

With that, Colossus turned and disappeared into the bright blue sky.