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Book #1 Chapter 1 = Vordin (Part 2)
***** Within the forest, he was stopped by a mysterious man dressed all in black and wearing a hooded cloak. Rasindell could not see his face, as it was cast in shadow beneath his hood. There was something about this figure that had made Rasindell very nervous, although he didn’t know exactly why.
***** “Like demons they are, created with evil intent,” said the man in a calm soothing voice, speaking of the Killnarin, “They are filled with hate and malice. They revel in pain and suffering. They bring death. A hollow tree can be a savior. The tree was once alive. You will be a being within a being. They will not see you. As a child within the womb of its mother cannot be seen directly, so shall you be hidden from sight.”
***** Rasindell immediately questioned this mysterious man about what he had told him, fearing that the beast was close behind.
***** “Their vision is different from ours,” he explained, “They can see the life force of others. Therefore, it matters not where you hide, as they can see within and beyond what we see. Your only hope is to mask your life force with that of another. It does not matter whether the tree is alive or dead and hollow. The fact that it once was alive and had a life force of its own is what is important.”
***** “Where am I to find a hollow tree?” Rasindell asked, frantic to try anything at all to save his life, “The chances of finding one are so slim and then of finding one large enough to conceal me within are even less!”
***** The man directed him over to a large tree. Rasindell was about to protest that this tree was in good health and not at all hollow, when the mysterious figure pushed him gently forward into the tree as if it had been made of air.
***** When the Killnarin came into the area a few moments later, its large head moved back and forth searching for any sign of Rasindell. Rasindell tried to understand how he could be standing within a solid tree as he was, but couldn’t come up with an explanation. The Killnarin couldn’t see him; he was sure of it.
***** The mysterious man in black stepped forward toward the Killnarin. The creature actually seemed to fear him. The Killnarin reared up until it was standing on its back four legs reminding Rasindell of a centaur he had once met. The creature swiped at the air in front of it and snapped its massive jaws toward the man in black, but dared not approach him. The mysterious figure just stood there making his presence known.
***** The Killnarin finally dropped its upper body back down to the forest floor again, the ground shaking with the impact. It let loose a terrible shrieking howl in defiance. It stomped around as if it were trying to decide what to do, and then a tear in the air appeared as before. The tear looked similar to the distortion heat from a fire makes in the air, if you look at it a certain way. Rasindell had expected yet another Killnarin or some other terrible beast to enter their world through the portal. To Rasindell’s surprise, the Killnarin instead left the world of Zaylyn, returning to wherever it had come from.
***** Once the Killnarin was gone, the mysterious man helped Rasindell out of the tree, and then he leapt up into the sky and disappeared from sight. Rasindell decided to build a home for himself and devote the rest of his life to magic. Having lost his one and only love, he had nothing else.
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***** “Could the mysterious man in the black hooded cloak be The Black Shadow?” Vordin asked himself, “The Black Shadow is supposed to be an incredibly powerful and evil being. I have heard awful things. Things that one could only imagine in the worst of nightmares. Surely it cannot be the same person. Perhaps I am remembering the story wrong.”
***** Inside the hollow tree, it was damp and cold. For once, he was thankful for his short height and thin frame as these qualities allowed him to maneuver into his chosen hiding spot and therefore were responsible for saving his life.
***** He could feel bugs starting to crawl through his hair. It got to the point where he couldn’t tell if it were some of his own hair that had made its way down inside the collar of his shirt or if it were some creepy insect squirming about. The wood was damp and had an earthy smell to it. Many times his hands found themselves sliding over slimy bits of fungus. Vordin wanted to get out of his cramped position and stretch, but he knew that he couldn’t take the risk.
***** He continued to wait. He could smell the burning remains of the village from where he was. Luckily, he was far enough away to not have to worry about his tree catching fire. Vordin waited and waited, and finally the crackling fires became nothing more than smoldering embers.
***** After dawn, he emerged with great caution. The morning sun’s rays were warm and bright. From where he stood at the crest of the hill at the edge of the forest, he could see the grassy hills rolling into the horizon. The road made its way up and over these hills until it reached Nilnont. There was no sign that the creatures had remained or where they might have traveled to afterwards.
***** He did not want to look at his village. He did not want to see the destruction. He knew it had happened, but if he didn’t look at it, he could pretend that everything was fine.
***** Before this day, Nilnont was a happy and lively place. The small buildings had thatched roofs and the walls were made from stone. Nilnont’s buildings had been constructed in this fashion for centuries. When a new building or home was to be built, it became a village project and everyone contributed in some way or another.
***** Almost every house had a garden of flowers, and it was a beautiful and peaceful place to live. Nilnont was known for its pottery. Some would be handcrafted for every day use and some would be made with artistic designs and paintings for decoration. On the rare occasion that travelers came to stop at Nilnont, they would always marvel at the quality and beauty of the pottery that the village produced.
***** It had been his village and his home. Finally, he made himself look down to Nilnont. He could see now that it had been reduced to smoldering piles of rubble and debris.
***** “My parents are somewhere down there. Everything is destroyed. Everything and everyone is gone. Everyone’s dead. No one could have survived. My parents are dead,” he tried to explain to himself.
***** He turned his eyes away from it. He stared at the road, following with his eyes as it continued past Nilnont and up into the forested hills to eventually lead into the mountains.
***** Vordin had never been to Dee’ellkka Valley, as the trek over the mountains was a long and strenuous one. It was rumored that trolls and dragons inhabited the mountain range, although few had ever seen them.
***** Vordin reluctantly returned his gaze toward Nilnont again, and then he forced himself to travel down to it. One of the persuasions he told himself was that perhaps he would find some survivors. He would rescue them and be a hero. Deep down, he knew that he would not, but he bravely continued.
***** He now stood at the edge of his village. There was nothing left of what he had called home. There was an eerie silence which emphasized the fact that he was alone. Everyone was gone. Nothing in the village had survived except for him.
***** Even though he expected the worst, he wanted to run desperately toward his house, to look for his parents and to see if they were all right. The fear and shock of what had happened and the sight of the devastation in front of him held him back.
***** At the edge of the village, from where he was standing, he saw the blackened and crumbling walls of many homes and buildings. He saw charcoaled remains of various pieces of wood furniture scattered about in the rubble. The street appeared empty from where he stood, but he knew there would be bodies. It was so very quiet. Usually, he would be able to hear the livestock in their pens at the far side of the village, but there was nothing. The crops were now blackened earth.
***** The winds changed and the foul stench of burnt flesh reached his nose. He felt numb and emotionless. It was almost as if his body wouldn’t accept the devastation in front of him as being real.
***** After many unsuccessful attempts, he finally was able to force himself to slowly walk down the street. As he walked, he was conscious of every reluctant step and of every tiny detail that he beheld.
***** He tried desperately to hold his sanity together as he passed the body of a middle-aged man lying face down in the gravel, a large pool of blood beneath him. The crackling embers seemed to taunt him, as if they knew all that had been taken from him and they had remained to gloat.
***** He felt empty. He thought he should feel at least something, but he just felt hollow and empty. It was as if it were impossible for him to be seeing all of this. It somehow couldn’t possibly be real.
***** He walked past the remnant of a house. Its garden of roses had been trampled along with the white miniature fence that surrounded it. The thatched roof was in ashes. Several of the stone walls had been bashed in, obviously by the incredible strength of these creatures. Vordin could see the destruction inside. Then he noticed the lifeless hand still reaching desperately for the sky beneath the rubble.
***** He moved quickly past with a lump in his throat as he imagined that it could have been him caught under the rubble like that. Guilty thoughts entered his mind as he passed more and more bodies and severed limbs among the debris and what was left of the houses and buildings.
***** “Why should I be the one to survive,” he thought, “I hid like a coward while everyone else died.”
***** He couldn’t help noticing that many of the dead strewn about were young children. “I should have stayed. Maybe I could have saved some of the children,” and then disgusted with himself he thought, “I’m a selfish coward. I was frightened. I panicked. I ran and hid. I should have tried to help. I could have brought someone with me. I could have saved at least one child. There was enough room in the tree for that.”
***** Vordin now approached the side street where his home should be. He hoped that by some miracle it still stood there intact, with his loving parents alive and well inside. He knew that this could never be true.
***** He could now see the smoldering remains of his home. The walls and roof had been torn down. Everything that had not been burned, had been smashed or ripped to pieces.
***** “Mother… Father…” he whispered, and such a combination of fear, anguish, and panic welled up inside him so strong that he would have never believed someone could feel that way.
***** Without thinking, he blindly made his way toward what was left of his home through the debris and mangled corpses. When he reached his goal, he rummaged around frantically in the rubble without purpose. Vordin suddenly recoiled at the sight of a charred severed arm. At the same time, a wave of reality and clarity was shocked into him. He recognized his father’s ring on the burnt and blistered flesh.
***** “No…” he choked out, “Father… No…”
***** He looked away with freshly shed tears streaming down his face. That was when he saw the leg of his mother beneath a pile of debris.
***** “Mother…” his voice said, “I’ll help you. Don’t worry. I’m here now. I’ll help you. I’m here.”
***** He began uncovering her in a desperate hope that she might still be alive. Upon discovering that her head was missing, he just sat there staring blankly into the ashes. His mind was fighting against itself, not wanting to accept the fact that this was real and had actually happened.
***** As he sobbed heavily, images of his mother and father kept flashing through his mind along with images and memories of his entire family, his home, the village, and the people that lived there. He sat there alone and distraught for most of the day.
***** As he mindlessly gazed about him, he happened upon a broken piece of mirror. He held it up and looked at the face which was reflected back to him. He knew it was him. It was his square jaw; the same as his father’s. He could see his dark brown almond-shaped eyes and his full lips; the same that his mother had. The face was his, but it seemed unfamiliar to him now. It was a jumble of features from people he would never see again.
***** His mourning turned into a helpless frustration. That frustration turned into anger. In his rage, he made a hasty vow that his family’s death would not go unavenged. Then he admitted to himself that for him to pursue vengeance would be impossible and deadly.
***** He staggered away from the village in the late afternoon. He would have to find shelter and if Rasindell’s old home still stood, it would be the best place for him. Also, he hoped that it would give him some emotional comfort. Being around his village and dead parents only brought him incredible distress. He needed to be somewhere familiar and to be somewhere untouched by this massacre.
***** Vordin walked along an overgrown path which would eventually lead him deep into the forest and to the old hut. As he walked, his thoughts wandered back to his childhood. He had always been mature for his age and therefore didn’t really fit in with the other children and their games. He usually played alone with toys, crafts, and other small projects. He was more interested in puzzles and games that challenged his mind, rather than the physical games and activities that most of the other children enjoyed.
***** Vordin had often ventured deep into the forest against his parents’ wishes. He had known by heart the way to the old storyteller’s hut. Vordin had often crept out to the hut after dark just to hear the wondrous stories he had to tell. Rasindell had become his only friend.
***** To see the warm welcoming glow coming from Rasindell’s wooden hut had always been well worth the journey through the dark and gloomy forest. Rasindell, expecting him as usual, would often step out awkwardly to greet him wearing his light grey tattered robe and leaning on a gnarled and twisted cane. The wizard would wait patiently as Vordin made his way down the forest path and into the clearing where his home was situated.
***** Vordin remembered how the old man’s grey eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement at yet another chance to have someone to share his wondrous tales with. Vordin could remember wishing that he too had eyes of a mystical color instead of his plain brown eyes.
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