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Chapter 3

  Ailwin, the Lord of Shadows, eldest son of Artoris. Before his father’s downfall, Ailwin had created servants for the gods carved out of his own solid shadow. His Shadowkin were powerful, almost as powerful as the Evara of old, yet had also been imbued with an additional enchantment – courtesy of Artoris. No Shadowkin would even be able to disobey a direct order from a deity – be they minor or major – unless the order directly contradicted an order given by a higher-ranking deity. Besides granting powerful weapons to the gods, this event also fuelled Alen’s jealousy and fear towards his brother, for the enchantment put upon the Shadowkin considered Artoris of a higher-rank than Alen. In the war, many Shadowkin would be slaughtered. Only a few of them survived. These were the weakest among them, surviving only because Ailwin and Artoris considered their very existence a waste. Even killing them would be more effort than they were worth. Yet, the Shadowkin were nearly immortal and over the centuries – as the average magical power of the people diminished – Shadowkin became one of the more feared races of demi-mortal creatures roaming around Traisil.

  ???

  Elion finally allowed himself to drop down onto the ground, his lungs and legs burning from the presumable kilometres they had been running through the forest. Not a word had been shared between Aly and him since they escaped town. She looked different now – way different. He still recognised her, her face was still the same face, but it looked almost like someone had used a paintbrush to change all the colours. Her eyes were different, her skin had turned grey, her hair a much lighter grey – almost white. She looked like a ghost, or something out of the scary stories his father used to tell him before bed.

  “What are you doing? We have to keep going!” Aly said, very clearly in distress.

  “I’m resting. I haven’t heard those soldiers for a while now, and I can’t keep going forever. We’ve been running for over an hour now, and there’s only two of us. They don’t even know what direction we went in due to that… trick of yours. Frankly, I’d like to sit down and discuss that if anything. I feel like I have the right to ask some questions,” Elion stated.

  Aly’s look of distress turned into frustration immediately.

  “You feel like you have the right to ask questions? Elion, the whole reason we’re even on the run is because of you, and you haven’t even told me everything about that yet. If you want answers, that’s fine, I understand, but you better be ready to grant me the same courtesy when it’s your turn. Besides, this is not a good place to rest. I say we keep going until we find some place we can find actual shelter. Somewhere we can rest without being disturbed – preferably somewhere with food?”

  They kept silent for a few seconds. Eventually, Elion realised Aly was waiting for him to respond.

  “You’re right,” he started, “This is my fault. Being hunted won’t make our journey any easier, but it doesn’t make it any less necessary either. We’ll talk about it – and I’ll tell you everything I know – but I agree with you that we should find proper shelter first. If I’m right about where we are, there should be an abandoned farm a few more kilometres towards the east.”

  Aly nodded, her anger slowly fading away.

  “Alright, but we’re walking the next bit. I’ve done more than enough running through the forest for one night.”

  On they walked for about an hour, paying close attention to the sounds of the forest – listening for possible signs of soldiers closing in on them. Fortunately there were no signs of danger during their walk to the abandoned farmhouse.

  Over a decade ago, the farmhouse had mysteriously fallen to ruin. From one day to the next the kind elderly couple who had been supplying hunters and travellers with a warm bed and a hot meal for decades had simply disappeared. An investigation was opened, but it had run cold almost immediately. There was no sign of the former inhabitants. One of the main reasons no further investigation ever happened was because no one actually managed to get inside of the farmhouse itself. The shed or the grounds could be managed, although people had reported hearing strange sounds coming from beneath the ground. Only a single person had ever managed to conquer the sheer terror that ruled over that place and went into the farmhouse. According to eyewitnesses the man had come back no more than a minute later, screaming and clawing his eyes out. The unnamed man had not survived. His final screams were a desperate warning – do not go in there, for you can never unsee true horror.

  Elion didn’t believe it.

  Sure, people probably disappeared and he could even believe the story of the man who clawed his eyes out, but he refused to believe there was actually anything terrifying inside of the farmhouse. Even so, why take the risk? They could build a fire inside the shed.

  “I don’t like the feeling this place has,” Aly noted as they crossed the threshold of the old farm.

  “Really? How so?”

  Aly sighed and looked around at the different parts that made up the home. The walls of the shed had been mostly torn down, the old well appeared to be unusable, and the plants themselves had all long since died out. The old farmhouse however, stood tall and appeared to be in perfect shape. The sun had come up slowly behind them, its golden light slowly making its way over the treetops and illuminating the grounds.

  “I can’t explain it,” she said. “There’s just something off about it. I can feel it.”

  “Odd, I don’t feel anything. We can keep moving if you’d like, but the next village is over three hours away and I bet this is one of the only places in the area that hasn’t received our wanted posters yet.” Aly nodded, and reluctantly followed Elion towards and into the shed. ‘Into’ might have been a slight overstatement. The walls were mostly gone, either torn down or simply weathered away due to a lack of maintenance.

  As she sat down, Elion walked over to the lumber-storage behind the farmhouse and gathered a bunch of wood for a fire. Even though the night had come and gone, it was still rather cold. On top of that, their run through the forest had made their clothes rather wet. They would need to dry or replace them before they could continue comfortably. Elion looked around for anything else that would be useful besides wood. Unfortunately, there appeared to be no food around. He would have to go back into the forest to gather mushrooms and berries. Either that or he would need to find a bow and a collection of arrows in order to hunt something small they could roast above the fire. In truth, they would need to gather a lot of things in order to make their journey even remotely possible. He didn’t have anything on him when they had to escape from the tavern, neither did Aly. All they had was the clothes they’d been wearing at the time. He didn’t even have a dagger on him.

  By looking around for a bit longer Elion managed to find a rusted hand-axe he could use to cut the logs down into smaller pieces of timber. It wouldn’t be much of a defensive tool however, barely worth taking with them. Elion doubted these farmers would have a good bow lying around, let alone after more than ten years of the farm being abandoned. Now that they had stopped walking, he also began to notice the pain in his legs returning. He decided to sit down next to Aly and begin creating a pile of wood-shavings for the fire.

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  Just as he sat down, and the rays of the sun touched the old well, a horrifying scream erupted from inside the farmhouse. It was a sound the likes of which Elion had only ever heard in his nightmares. Startled, he jumped up – the rusted axe in hand. Aly instinctively clasped her hands together, readying herself for an escape similar to how they got out of Hunter’s Rest.

  Nothing happened.

  Soon, both of them began to wonder if what they heard had actually been real. However, the fact that both of them reacted at the exact same time proved it happened. Now they had to decide what to do next.

  “What was that?” Elion asked first.

  “I don’t know.” Aly stood motionless. Even Elion got scared now, but also felt an immense sense of curiosity. He needed to know what was going on inside of that farmhouse.

  “You’re not thinking of going in there are you?” Aly asked.

  “I am.”

  Aly scoffed. “You must be insane,” she said.

  “Perhaps, but what if someone in there needs our help. I can’t just stay here without knowing what’s going on – and I can’t leave with the possibility that someone needs my help.”

  “Your heroism is going to get you killed someday you know, you can’t carry the responsibility of helping everyone all by yourself…” Aly echoed a conversation they’d had before. Elion had a tendency to put too much on himself. He’d never been able to let go or admit something was out of his control. If it needed to be done, he’d be there – he’d mess up half of the time, but he was there. That’s one of the main reasons he became a hunter. By being in town less he’d feel the need to help everyone much less. Still, the weight of the responsibility of providing for everyone never lessened. And now he was about to throw himself towards an unknown threat with nothing besides a rusty handaxe and the stubbornness of a human.

  Aly was left no other choice.

  “… which I why I’ll have to join you.”

  Elion smiled, “I was hoping you’d say that.” He threw down the rusted axe and started looking around for something a bit less weathered to defend himself with. Soon, he realised there was a vital bit of information he needed to know before they went into the farmhouse.

  “Aly, can you use that magic of yours to defend us in any way?” An absent look fell over her face, her eyes looking off into nowhere.

  “I can,” she eventually answered.

  “How?”

  “I won’t tell you, because I won’t use them that way. I promised – besides, if you knew, you’d only ask more questions and we’d be standing here all day. I’d much rather not waste time on deflecting questions.” Her tone was friendly, but Elion knew that if he pushed any further that would change dramatically. He had seen Aly yell at too many employees and suppliers to dare face her wrath.

  “Alright, but if we need them-”

  “We won’t. And even if we do, I’d rather die than fuel that connection any further,” Aly interrupted him. Elion remained silent and kept looking for a threatening stick or something similar. With that rusty axe he’d be more likely to harm himself than anything attacking him. Safer to leave it behind and find a substitute.

  Eventually he found a half-decent pitchfork hidden away towards the back of the shed. Aly had decided not to take a weapon – if she needed to defend herself, her innate strength and dexterity would be more than enough.

  After a bit more mental preparations, the two of them decided to head into the farmhouse. The door was unlocked and opened surprisingly easily, its hinges not even squeaking despite presumably years of not being used. As they crossed the threshold, the cozy warmth of a fire and pleasant smell of freshly-baked bread enveloped them. From upstairs came a comforting woman’s voice.

  “Ooh honey come quick, we have guests!” it sounded as someone came running downstairs.

  “What is this?” Aly whispered into Elion’s ear, soft enough so that no one would be able to hear.

  “I don’t know, but keep your guard up,” he responded.

  From upstairs came a rather plump woman with a round face, her clothes a bright blue and her hair done in some elaborate style Elion imagined the royal family would appreciate much more than any farmer ever could.

  “Oh darling they even found your pitchfork!” the woman yelled in no particular direction as she snatched the pitchfork out of Elion’s hands. Something felt very off about the whole thing. No lights or smells or warmth had radiated from the farmhouse before they entered, yet now it appeared as if it was never abandoned in the first place.

  “How sweet you are,” the woman stated as she squeezed Elion’s cheeks. “Quite underfed however. I suppose you’ve got a lot on your mind don’t you? Hunting for everyone in town. Go! Go take a seat at the table. I’ll bring out breakfast shortly.” The woman shoved both of them into the dining room where they were each forced to take a seat.

  Once seated, Elion whispered into Aly’s ear; “what on Traisil is going on here?”

  “Oh, nothing bad I think. I’m sure these kind people just want to feed us, that’s all…” she said before staring off into the distance.

  “What? Aly, what’s going on with you, aren’t you the least bit suspicious of this?” Elion continued.

  “Not at all. I’m sure these kind people just want to feed us, that’s all…” same sentence, same absent-minded stare afterwards. Elion started stressing out. Something was going on with Aly, something bad – he didn’t trust any of it for even a second.

  Elion looked around for something to defend himself with. They were in a dining room after all, something must be around that can stab or poke an eye out. There were five pairs of cutlery set around the table – presumably one for each person, although with the two of them and presumably the couple running the farmhouse that would only be four. Elion decided to grab one of the knives and hide it in his sleeve, hoping that their host wouldn’t notice the missing knife before he needed it to escape. Soon after, the woman returned with – seemingly – freshly-baked bread.

  “Well now, let’s eat. Shall we?” the woman said. “You need to be good and plump for the mistress.”

  “Who is the mistress?” Elion asked. The woman looked up and gasped, clearly surprised that Elion said anything at all. Her cheerful expression turned to anger, and with a wooden ladle held high she took three firm steps towards him.

  “You should be in a trance by now! Why aren’t you?” she shouted at him. In the corner of his eye Elion noticed Aly was sheepishly buttering her bread. “Answer me!” the woman screeched.

  "I- I don’t know ma’am,” Elion said, trying desperately to grab the knife he had hid up his sleeve. Clumsily fondling the knife trying to grab onto the hilt he accidentally dropped it. It fell on the ground with a loud clang. Elion’s stomach turned and his heart sunk. The woman looked at the ground for a moment and then straight back at him, a furious look in her eyes.

  “You cretin!” she shouted, raising the heavy ladle up high. Elion tried to duck underneath the table, reaching for the knife, but alas he felt the blunt strike of that wooden ladle hit the back of his head, and everything went dark as his face hit the ground.

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