CIRCLE OF SHADOWS Part 1: Shadow Chaser
† 31 - remains †

Running flat out, chest wheezing, Galen reaches the wall and without slowing his pace, jumps up into the air, thudding painfully against the wooden planks, jarring his teeth with the impact. Scrabbling for purchase he slides down the wall, grazing his arms and knees against the rough grain of the planks.

Too low!

He turns around and trots backwards, stops and then launches himself towards the wall in a sprint, plants his feet solidly in the ground and jumps in the air. His fingers brush the top of the wall, but not finding any grip he slides down the planks again, cursing loudly in frustration. Walking away from the wall he glances around the yard, eyes searching for anything he can put to use to get him to the top of the wall.

A bang rattles against the wall behind him and startled, Galen spins around, short sword snaking into his hand in one fluid movement. Eyes flicking around, he notices the end of a rope dangling over the wall, swinging listlessly around, scraping against the wooden planks.

Galen moves forwards, his eyes locked suspiciously on the rope now hanging limply against the wall. Stopping close by, he reaches gingerly for the rope, takes it his free hand and jerks it.

Snapping taut, the rope cracking loudly through the silence permeating the yard, he calls out questioning.

‘Virian? Siril?’

His voice bounces hollowly from the wall and echoes across the yard. Wincing he bends closer to the wall and places his ear against the wood, closing his eyes as he listens for any sound on the other side.

A voice whispers from behind the wall, soft and slightly muffled as it goes through the wooden plank.

‘Galen? It is Gawayn. Use the rope to climb over.’

Breathing a sigh of relief Galen pushes away from the wall, slams his sword back into its scabbard and then grips the rope tightly with both hands.

Foot over foot, and hand over hand he walks up against the rope, glad for the strength of Galen’s knots anchoring it tightly on the other side.

Galen reaches the top of the wall and climbs up and swings his legs over quickly, straddling the top of the fence as he looks down at the group huddling below him at the edge of the woods.

‘Glad to see you are all safe!’ he calls down happily, smile stretching widely over his face.

Sullen faces look up at him and he frowns slightly, shrugs and then using the rope climbs down quickly to the loamy ground below him.

Turning, he sees Dallin and Gawayn, their eyes filled with suspicion, looking at him and smiling he regards them in silence.

Scanning the small clearing between the wall and the woods he notices Virian and Talli kneeling concerned next to Siril, who sits slumped against a knotted oak, his face drawn and pale.

Virian’s hand is flung across his shoulders, her crossbow lying discarded next to her. Several bodies lie strewn around the small clearing, splotches of blood seeping into the ground, their bodies left where they fell.

Galen walks towards them, his movement attracting Virian’s attention and she looks up at him, her eyes glittering wetly as she regards him.

‘You made it. How did you manage to kill the daemon?’ her voice sounding strained.

‘It was as I had hoped. My powers returned to me. Or should I rather say the knowledge. The power can never really leave you.’

Smiling weakly Virian gazes up at Galen’s face, a frown marring her pretty features. Turning her head she whispers to Siril and Talli then gets up and moves a short distance away with Galen.

‘What is wrong with your father?’

Galen’s voice hushed as he looks across at Siril still sitting slumped, eyes closed, next to Talli. Turning to face him, Virian sighs, shrugs her shoulders and says softly.

‘I do not really know. One moment he was using his powers to ward off two of the attackers then he just suddenly collapsed.’

Taking a deep breath she glances frightened towards Siril.

‘I have no idea how much damage the backlash of that amount of power could have done to him.’

Scratching his head in thought Galen ponders, opens his mouth to say something then shuts it just as quickly. Galen looks at the wall he has just scaled then turns to face the woods standing dense behind him.

‘We will have to get going as soon as possible. Even if it means we need to carry your father for most of the way. The villagers will be curious as to what happened behind the inn and from what we have seen they are not too hospitable when it comes to strangers.’

Virian nods her head as she bites her lip gently, mulling over his words in silence.

‘When that blast occurred, someone screamed out in pain not too far off into the woods. Could it be the one that summoned the daemon?’

’It might be. When you summon a beast like that it links with

your body in way to anchor itself in this world. So when it dies the summoner will be temporarily incapacitated.’

Virian nods her head thoughtfully at Galen’s words. Looking down at her Galen is amazed at how composed she looks.

‘We should go have a look then. I will come with you.’

Startled from his musing, Galen stutters surprised.

‘Look? You mean search the woods for the one who might have summoned the daemon?’

‘Yes. Is there a problem with that?’

‘Well, I guess not. No. But the rest will have to figure out how we can move Siril. When we get back we will need to move out.’

Virian nods her head, gives Galen one last thoughtful look then turns around and walks towards Gawayn.

Looking after her as she moves off, Galen can not help but stare at her backside. Shrugging he drags his eyes away as she halts next to Gawayn, the two quickly engaged in a deep discussion, before he turns and walks over to where Talli kneels quietly next to Siril. Dropping down beside her, he feels the old man’s brow with the palm of his hand.

‘I am sure he will be fine Talli.’

He says in a soft voice, trying desperately to sooth Talli’s fears.

Blinking rapidly, eyes wet and cheeks streaked from tears, she looks into his eyes.

‘I hope so Galen.’ She swallows heavily before burying her head in Galen’s shoulder. Feeling quite awkward, Galen pats her gingerly on the back, her sniffles and sobs muffled by the material of his shirt.

Pulling away, Talli smiles shyly at him then wipes her hand over her nose, giggling nervously.

‘Sorry.’ She mutters.

Galen waves her apology away, gives her a caring smile then wipes a tear from her cheek.

‘Hgm hmm!’

Glancing behind him he sees Virian standing, smiling sardonically at Galen’s compassion, so he gets up and moves to her side.

‘I think it was over this way.’ She says icily before she sets off, leading him at a rapid pace into the dimly lit woods.

Virian, feeling annoyed both by the familiarity with which Galen had comforted Talli and her own jealous reaction to that interaction between them, pushes the low hanging tree branches and leaves out of her way as she moves deeper into the woods.

So far their search for the fallen assailant had been fruitless, but being in the state of mind she is she has decided they will keep looking.

Galen moves in step with her, slightly to the right of her position, his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him, his Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

head only occasionally swinging side to side as he inspects the brush growing around him.

Virian stares at Galen, her breath catching in her throat as his toned body brushes tightly against his clothes, the thin fabric not quite able to hide the contours and shapeliness of his muscles.

A slight blush creeps up her neck and she hurriedly looks away, reprimanding herself for her lapse of concentration.

Walking forwards, Galen noisily moving to her right, she feels an odd prickly feeling running up the back of neck, icy tentacles probing her senses, testing, searching.

Virian jerks around, searching for the source of this feeling in the brush growing to her left. The green leaves densely covering everything in sight.

Moving forwards tentatively, she pushes a clump of branches aside, her eyes widening in shock as she stares down on a richly dressed man with a narrow face, the fine features trimmed by closely cropped brown hair. A neatly trimmed moustache curls out from underneath a sharp nose, his lips a pale pink above a sharp jutting chin.

Virian pulls back silently, turns around and whistles lightly at Galen, who stops and seeing her hand gesture, comes towards her at a careful trot.

As he comes to a halt next to her Virian bends close to his ear and whispers softly while indicating with a finger.

‘He is lying behind this bush. He looks young.’ Virian pulls away from Galen and then pushes the branch aside so that Galen can have a quick look.

As Galen leans forwards his shoulder brushes against Virian’s arm and she feels the contraction of the muscle against her ski, her annoyance at him forgotten in an instant. A tingly shiver races up her arm and she inhales sharply, a gasp of surprise.

Virian gazes intently at Galen as he leans past her, her gaze sliding from his chin up towards his ear. Noticing a small scar on his jaw, she nearly lets go of the branch to reach out and run her finger along the smooth patch of skin.

Shaking her head she looks away from Galen, she tries to clear her mind, tries to focus on her anger at him, but standing so close to him she can smell him: the scent of sweat on his body, the dust on his clothes.

‘What are we going to do with him?’

Virian’s voice trembles out of frustration and as she speaks and Galen pulls back to regard her inquisitively.

‘I guess we can take him with us, or just leave him here.’ Shrugging unconcernedly Galen peers through the bushes again, draws back and turns to walk back to where the others are waiting at the wall.

‘But what if he attacks us again?’

Virian asks exasperated, quickly following after him as he walks around a tree, disappearing from sight.

Waving his hands through the air he says without turning back to look at her.

‘We will be a long way off before he regains consciousness.’

Virian grabs Galen by the elbow, ignoring the feel of his skin under her fingertips, dragging him to a halt and spinning him around to face her. Consternation flashes across her face and she almost screams in frustration at him.

‘How can you be so sure of that? He might be conscious as we speak! Only faking it in the hope that we will leave him there and go on our way, unsuspecting, and then he can sneak up behind us and attack us when we least expect it.’

Her face slightly flushed, she looks up at him, as he stares at her wordlessly.

‘I have seen many people who did not wake up at all after having been severed so harshly from a summoned daemon.’

Virian frowns at him, his words holding no meaning to her.

Breathing in deeply, Galen tries to explain again, his words slow and considerate as he expounds, gesticulating with his hands to impress the meanings on her.

‘When a person summons a daemon from the upper spheres, a link of sorts is formed between them. Like a bond. This bond joins together the summoned and the summoner, similar to a life line connecting the one in the water to the boat.’

Virian nods her head in silence, her frown fading slowly as Galen’s explanation continues unabated.

‘When this link is forcibly severed, for instance by the untimely death of the summoned daemon, the summoner will suffer from a severe backlash of released power.’

Galen jabs his finger into the palm of his hand to indicate the severity of this part of the explanation. ‘Now, if the daemon summoned required a lot of power to keep it on this plane, the backlash could be fatal to the summoner. The power unleashed by such an event could incapacitate the summoner for days.’

‘Aaahh!’ Virian exclaims sagely as Galen pauses for breath. ‘I understand now. So this man will probably not be able to summon or conjure for quite some time then, would he?’

Galen shakes his head, turns around and then walks briskly off, Virian following doggedly, in complete silence, at his heels.

Walking together in silence, they push through the dense copse of brush ringing the clearing where the rest had stayed behind, and both stop in surprise at the sight that greets them.

Lying trussed up on a makeshift bier, rope tying the pieces of wood tightly together, Siril smiles weakly up at them.

Virian smiles caringly at him, then moves forwards and kneels next to his covered body, lifting his cold hand and pressing

it against her chest.

‘How do you feel father?’ she asks softly as she gazes into his lidded eyes.

Closing his eyes, Siril whispers weakly and Virian has to lean forwards to hear the softly uttered words.

‘I am better now my child. I lost my concentration and then the flow collapsed in around me. I have not used the power to harm another soul in many years. It was quite a shock to see those frail bodies flying through the air. So limp.’

A tear rolls down the weathered cheek and Virian wipes it tenderly away, her own eyes glistening wetly.

‘We will go to Feesh and then you can recuperate.’

Siril nods his head gently then turns and looks at Virian, his eyes stretching a little wider as he speaks.

‘Did Galen defeat the daemon? Has he regained his powers?’

Virian nods her head as she looks over to where Galen stands, restlessly pacing back and forth, alone at the fringe of the group.

‘Trust his instincts Virian. He is from a powerful lineage. He has many hidden talents that will aid us. But protect your heart.’

Startled Virian looks over at her father, cheeks turning scarlet.

’I have eyes. I know the songs that sing the hearts of the young. But be careful. To love a Necra, is to love Death

herself.’

Virian nods silently, her heart fluttering in her chest as she glances over at Galen again.

‘We must get going. Will you be comfortable in this bier, father?’ she asks as she lets go of Siril’s hand and pushes herself to her feet.

‘As comfortable as I can be.’

His weak smile fades, and a stabbing pain grips her heart. Turning in a wild flourish she calls to the other.

‘We go now!’

The group springs into action, gathers up discarded packs and weapons before surging towards her and Siril.

Galen grabs the back end of the bier, waits patiently for Gawayn to grip the front. Together they gently lift the bier, Siril slumped limply within and in without a word fall in behind the rest as they walk alongside the wall, eventually coming out onto the dusty road, coming from the village behind them, leading to the north and the hulking shadows of mountains faintly outlined against the blue horizon.

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