CIRCLE OF SHADOWS Part 1: Shadow Chaser
† 3 - memories I †

Hoooowwwwooooooollllllllllll!!!!!

The carpet of silence is ripped into shreds by the piercing cry of a lonely howl echoing through the forest, drifting miles on the light breeze. Eyes pop open. Virian sits up hastily and looks into the surrounding trees, ears straining as she listens intently for the sound that woke her. Snatches of faint birdsong flutter from the trees around her.

Te-thud! Te-Thud! Te-thud!

Her heart beats rapidly in her chest as she sits quietly and listens.

Te-Thud! Te-Thud!

Each boom pounding loudly inside her inner ear. Each beat of her pulse like a foot stepping on her head. The thudding completely blocks out any sound. Breathing deeply a couple of times, she closes her eyes, reaching towards the calm centre deep within she slowly begins to gain control over her beating heart.

Te-thud!...Te-thud.

The painful pulsing in her ears fades away slowly as her breathing slows, her chest barely moving with each breath. She opens her eyes, thin slits barely moving as her eyes dart around, quickly surveying the area surrounding the silent campsite.

‘Nothing,’ she opens her eyes wider, dipping her mind into the tranquil pool of power inside her she casts out her other senses, questing outward like tentacles into the forest. ‘I can’t sense anything not supposed to be there.’ She mumbles softly before turning slightly to looks towards Galen’s limp form. The fire between them lies dead, a few smouldering embers and ash all that remains, a thin wisp of smoke rising into the cool morning air scattered by a sudden breeze as it flows upwards through the lowest branches. Galen lies spread out on his back on the opposite side, a peaceful grin spread wide across his bronze face, week old stubble dark against the coppery skin. Underneath his shirt, his chest rises and falls steadily, a soft snore escaping between his lips with every other exhalation.

Virian’s gaze slips to his neck, her eyes following the leather thong slightly exposed at the collar. Relief flows through her as she notices the stone talisman hanging deep inside the shirt, hidden safely from her view. Pushing to her feet, she walks to the edge of the small clearing, ears perked up as she listens at the quiet forest morning. Dawn sunlight filters past the leaf canopy into the dense forest, imperceptibly lightening the surrounding area in a dull grey light. Shrugging her shoulders, she spins around and heads back towards the dead fire, collecting fresh kindling from the ground along the way. Bending at the long dead fire she tosses the small branches and sticks onto the embers and ashes, a small cloud puffs into the air. Kneeling lower she peers at the wood, eyes riveted on the pile of wood. Her grey-green eyes focussed, both irises glazing over she blows softly onto the small clump of wood, a soft murmur escaping her throat.

Whhhoooosssh!

A small flame flares up, licks across the dried wood and the kindling bursts into flame, reaching hungrily into the sky as it burns. Grinning smugly to herself she pushes to her feet, moving quickly around the edge of the clearing as she collects larger pieces of wood to burn. Back and forth she moves, dropping pieces of wood on the ground in a small pile next to the fire.

Eyes straying to where Galen lies prone, appearing to be fast asleep on the ground, she hums a soft melody as she bends over her bag and pulls out a small dented pot, filling it up from her water bottle before placing it at the edge of the blazing fire. Steam rises from the pot as the water begins to boil and rummaging through her bag, she pulls out a small packet, ripping it open with her teeth before shaking the powdery substance into the boiling water. Crumpling the packet into a small ball, she crams it into the bag before sitting back down on her bedroll, gathering the loose blanket up around her legs. Reaching forward she lightly stir the pot’s contents with a small wooden spoon loosely held in her fingers.

Plop-plop!

The thickening contents begin to simmer and soon a wildly exotic and aromatic flavour floats into the air. Closes her eyes she sniffs the air, inhaling deeply as she savours the aroma. ’Ahhh...,’she moans softly, her mouth watering from the delicious smells drifting through the air. Reaching behind her she pulls a small plate from her bag, bends over the small pot and scoops generous amounts of porridge onto it. Stretching her long legs languidly out in front of her she blows on the steaming porridge before ladling a heaped spoonful into her mouth. A loud groan rolls through her throat as the first delicious mouthful, bursting with the taste of wild berries, sugary honey and sweetened bread-cakes, hits her palate, flavours filling her mouth a heavenly cascade of delights rolling over her senses. Savouring each spoonful, she eats slowly, contently licking her lips, careful not to spill a single drop.

Shrill birdsong and crackles of flaming wood siphon through the darkness of his awareness. Opening crusty eyes slowly, a small crack barely noticed, Galen scrutinises Virian where she sits eating contently, her long legs spread wide as she rests next the fire. A tiny pile of dried wood lies to one side and a small pot stands steaming and plopping on the ground next to the fire. Lying quietly, feigning sleep as convincingly as he can, Galen tries to get a better view of his surroundings through lidded eyes, his head moving slightly as he examines the area. The small clearing, hemmed in by tall trees, thick tree trunks faint in the early grey morning light filtering through the leafy canopy, lies quiet.

Ccrroogggg!

His stomach grumbles softly. Hungry! The rumbled message cannot be mistaken. Wincing inwardly he breathes easily as he realises Virian has not noticed that he is awake. Casting his mind back he thinks hard, trying to remember when the last time was that he had eaten. Memory dances into being, images flashing through his mind’s-eye; a boat, a meal, candle light.

Rocking movement overwhelms him and his senses roil as a feeling of overbalanced vertigo fills him, pushing his stomach into his throat.

‘My last meal was on the boat before the storm hit.’

The thought materialises from nothing and dissipates as he sinks into a grey nothing, snatches of conversations and swiftly flowing memories swamping his mind as images and voices rush past him...

Three men sit silently around a small table, a single burning lantern dimly lighting the small room hanging from the low roof casting a small pool of light across the stained planking. The darkened wooden panels of the cramped cabin creak dryly as the room sways, the rolling movement of the waves outside causing the suspended lantern to sway as the boat rocks on the waves. Groans echo through the silence as the boat pulls against its moors, the faint sounds barely discernable from the waves slapping against the hull, the boat securely anchored for the evening meal.

Dented metal plates lie on the table in front of three men sitting hunched over, steaming fish, soft-boiled carrots and potatoes swimming in a thin watery broth. Tankards of ale stand next to each plate. The amber liquid sloshing gently with the boat’s sway touching the rim lightly without spilling out.

‘Aye Lad!’ says the one as he lifts the cup to his lips, wiping a greasy hand over his thick red beard. ‘We be alm’st at th’ place we needs ta be at!’

A smooth faced Galen looks up tiredly, gently holding a small potato dripping with juice between his fingers before popping it into his mouth. Chewing thoughtfully, shoulders lifting up slightly one eyebrow cocked he looks at eth grizzly man opposite him.

‘Is so!’ adds the scrawny dark skinned man on the other side quickly, nodding his head repeatedly up and down, wide golden loops swinging wildly below his ears. Peppery coloured hair cropped closely to the tanned skin, a puckered scar running down his cheek from his left ear to the corner of his mouth, white as he grimaces. The gravelly voice becoming stern. ’I see dem black hills gets a closer erryday. No a far to go no. Captaan Rol is raaight!’ The guttural accent typical for a native found in the Neemish grasslands becomes even stronger as he gets excited.

‘Settle doon, Karai. Th’ lad does believe us, he does, he has jus’ go’ a brain stuff’d to th’ brim with tings.’

Nodding his head in silent affirmation Galen continues to chew as he tries to smile at Kari disarmingly, washing the mushy potato down after a moment by taking a big swig of beer before sitting back and looking askance at the captain.

‘How long Captain Rol?’ he asks, looking the big red man straight in the eyes.

‘Eh! How lawng?’ pausing slightly, a freckled hand scratching his double chin vigorously through the thick red beard. ’Eh... giv’ ‘r take... eh... one... ma’be two days,’ thick hands lifting into the air. ‘Depend’ on th’ weather, see.’

‘I understand.’ Looking down into his tankard Galen frowns, his face scrunched up in concentration as he looks at the small bubbles floating within the amber liquid. Tensing slightly at the small display of displeasure, Captain Rol’s eyes flick nervously to Karai before he glances back towards Galen.

Looking up from the cup, a wide grin spreads over Galen’s face. ‘Well, great then!’ he exclaims suddenly. ‘If all goes well, I will be able to be back home before winter sets in completely.’ Rol leans back, an uneasy smile on his face. Sitting back into his chair Galen smiles happily at his two companions, lifts the tankard from the table, the two sailors smiling back uncomfortably. ‘Let’s have a toast!’ he shouts, startling the two sailors, ale slopping unsteadily over the rims of their cups. Jumping up, Galen shoves his tankard towards the other two.

‘To fine travel companions!’

‘Ay’! Fine compa’n’ns!’ Rol mumbles thickly.

‘Ja, to dem!’ Karai says loudly, his grin pulling awkwardly at the corner of the scar.

Clank!

Ale slosh over the tankards and spill down the sides as the three cups join in the air over the table. The three companions throw their heads back and drink deep, the golden amber rushing down their throats, foam dripping from the corners of their mouths as they put them back down on the table.

‘Ahhh.....!’ Galen exhales as he wipes the sleeve of his blue shirt across his mouth.

Thud! Clang! Clump!

The sound of things crashing on the deck above, reverberating through the wood panelling above their head echoed by thundering steps as someone comes stomping down the ladder leading towards the cabin shared by the the three men around the table. Alarmed glances flick between them as they sit down.

‘Captaan! Captaan!’ a screaming voice floats dully through the closed galley door.

Swissshh! Bang!

The door swings open on oiled hinges, crashing loudly against the wall behind it. Stumbling through the open doorway, Torai, Karai’s identical twin brother, straggly hair hanging loosely over broad shoulders, stumbles in sweat pouring down his face. Dark blue eyes wide, white orbs stark against his dark skin he stands quivering in the dark doorframe, hands trembling by his sides.

‘Fo’kn whot noo?!’ Captain Rol screams, jumping up. Grabbing Torai by the arm, he pulls Torai through the door and into the dimly lit interior. ‘Whas th’ matter boyo?’ he asks as he leads him to the vacant chair at the table. Pushing him gently into the chair he forces his tankard into Torai’s shaking hands. ‘Drink this lad, then tell me whas got you shaking like a li’le girl!’

Lifting the rim to his lips, Torai drinks, his throat working steadily as he swallows. Wiping his sleeve across his mouth he looks wearily towards his brother, eyes flitting quickly past Galen to rest on the wall just past Rol’s head.

‘Clouds, Captaan! Laat of clouds!’

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‘Dark storm bee comin on verie quicklee!’ Torai’s eyes widen with fright, thick lips pale, hands shaking wildly as he places the tankard on the table.

Looking towards Karai, Captain Rol nods his head grimly in the direction of the upper deck. Giving a slight bow before leaving, Karai heads out the open door running swiftly up the stairs.

Galen’s eyes pop open, the smell of grilled fish lingering in his nose, the taste of beer on his lips lingering a moment longer as he looks dazedly around him. Virian sits on the other side of the small fire savouring her bowl of porridge, heaped spoon after heaped spoon, face scrunching up in delight with each mouthful as she swallows. The light in the clearing has shifted to a subtler shade of grey, lighter but still far from a bright sunny day.

Dark trees loom ominously in around them, blocking any other light from streaming in, large branches and thick leafy tops spreading out to form a thick interlaced layer. Glancing around the small clearing, Galen notices the soft mulch of rotting leaves and soft loam beneath him. The faint smell reaching his nose smells faintly like a recently dug grave.

Ghoooarrrr!

His stomach groans loudly, dragging his wandering thoughts back to the pot of porridge pritting on the fire. Twisting his hands, he tests the bonds behind his back.

‘Hmm... Still quite tight, but not nearly as uncomfortable as before.’ Thinking glumly to himself he wriggles his wrists inside the knots, chafed skin red and bruised stinging slightly as the ropes grind with each movements of his hands.

‘Owwoooo!’ the exclamation explodes from him as a hot stabbing pain lances up his arm, a burning sensation spreading from his wrist radiating upwards.

Thump!Cer-Clang!

Clenching his jaw, he glances across the fire, in time to see Virian jumping up, her body shaking as she looks down at him, eyes blazing furiously.

‘You idiot! Look at what you made me do!’

Looking up in silence, eyes flickering defiantly Galen hisses, ‘I didn’t make you tie me up. If I wanted to be tied up, I could have paid for it and gotten someone much better at it then you!’

Blinking down at him, momentarily taken aback, her voice turns frigid as she points to the ground next to her. ’I am talking about my breakfast, you oaf!’

Glancing to the where her finger is pointing, the small pot lies kicked over next to the fire, gooey porridge splattered everywhere across the soft mulch. The small bowl lies on the other side of the bedroll, flung away as she jumped in fright.

‘Why did you not tell me you were awake? Instead you frighten me half to death by screaming at me!’ Her voice sounds shrill as it pierces the silent morning. Shrugging his shoulders, Galen grins smugly up at her before spitting towards her feet.

‘Are you always this miserable!’ Virian’s voice turns softer as she turns away from him and walks off, her silhouette fading into the shadowy trees beyond the clearing.

His smug grin dropping, Galen pushes himself up and despite the pain coursing up his arms and little manoeuvrability, he slumps sideways against the pine tree behind him. Staring hungrily at the porridge seeping slowly over the ground he grumbles thickly. ‘Nice going idiot!’

Garrrooo-gggoo-gooo-goo! His empty belly bellows loudly a mournful cry for the spilt food, cramping painfully as he turns his face away from the sight and closes his eyes.

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