Shadow Kingdoms | Book 1 ✔ (REWRITTEN AS 'THE EXILED KING')

Chapter 9 - Kingdom of Nightmares

"Gods!" Ryhon clutched his head. That voice. It kept plaguing him. It voice in his dreams, the voice in his memory. Daryn. His brother. Who was dying. Ryhon ran out of his sister's chamber, waving away Jemery's concern. He disappeared down a corridor with Jemery and Aelron looking helplessly there. Jemery shook his head.

"Master pushes himself too far."

Aelron stared down the corridor with pain in her eyes. She had heard it. Their bond and allowed each share their thoughts and feelings as well as pain. Daryn was alive, and Samuh... no, Ryhon... was coming to fetch him. They would all be reunited again. Then she felt something. It smothered her senses and she collapsed on the floor. Jemery turned and tried to catch her, but she slid through his hands, as they were insubstantial.

It was dark. She opened her eyes, but could see nothing. Then her body rose. She could do nothing but follow along.

Jemery watched in muted astonishment as Aelron rose, her eyes open but sightless. She turned to him, her milky white eyes staring right at him. Aelron's hair whipped around her face and flew wildly about as if in a blizzard, but there was no wind. He mouth opened and mist flowed from it. Mist flowed from around her, behind her and seemed to come from everywhere. Then she spoke.

Danger follows the overlord of the dark

Who he seeks is not the true one, but a mark

A mark of darkness that only one of the dark can see

Of this danger, one can really only flee

Only one person has the power to fight

The overlord of darkness and night

May he succeed or fail by the will of the lady

Aelron collapsed back on the floor. Her hair went limp, her eyes closed and the mist faded. Jemery called for a servant with proper hands to carry Aelron. A burly servant arrived moments later.

"Thank the Lady! Here she is. She is a prophet!" Jemery babbled on, frantic in his worry about Aelron and his excitement at learning what she was. A prophet. A reader of the future. The only other person who could read and manipulate the future was the Lady. The Lady Aethyn who was the ruler of all the souls and hearts of Heresh dwellers. All in Heresh believed in the Lady. She was the goddess of Heresh, some might say. Not even Ziocrat rules Heresh.

The burly servant, a guard, bent and scooped up the limp form of Aelron and carried her back to her room.

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Meanwhile, Ryhon stood in a deserted alleyway in a city in Sanobar. His fledgling magic had brought him to a random city in Sanobar, but at least it had actually been in Sanobar. Once, he spelled himself to Westik, attempting to teleport to Silvardor. He had found himself surrounded by angry dwarves. He looked around. There was an old beggar sitting in a corner, hoping to earn a bit of coin. Any coin. Ryhon looked down the alley. It was dotted with sleeping forms. All homeless or beggars. He frowned. In all of his experience in Sanobar, he had never seen such needy people as these beggars. As he walked down the street, gaunt faces stared at him. His neck prickled at the eyes on his receding back. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Hungry children peeked at him from the corners. Dressed in rags, they looked more frightening than real ghosts. He could no longer pretend that they didn't exist. He approached one of the thin, skeletal children. A dirt covered teenage boy. He had shoulder length brown hair and a thin and lanky frame. He looked no older than sixteen or seventeen, because he was short. The boy shrank away as Ryhon got closer.

"No. Don't go." Ryhon stretched his hand out in a vain attempt to stop the boy. The boy didn't run to his mother, though. He turned and gazed at Ryhon with wonder filled eyes. He was frightened, but he was also curious.

"Who are you?" He reached a tentative hand out to touch Ryhon's cloak. He seemed shocked to find it had real substance. Ryhon didn't blame the boy. He knew how he looked. He looked like a vampire, or a ghost.

"My name is Ryhon."

"No. What are you?" The boy frowned.

"Ah. I am a Necromancer, a servant of his royal majesty King Naghren of Heresh." Ryhon replied casually, as if that was how you greeted any old person on the streets.

The boy widened his eyes.

"You're a monster! A creature of the unholy darkness!" He exclaimed. He glared right into Ryhon's eyes, definitely, "You're Death coming to take me. Well I don't care. Take me."

Ryhon shook his head.

"No. You are mistaken. I was reborn, but I am not evil." That may be wrong, he thought. I may very well be evil.

The boy narrowed his eyes.

"Truely? Prove it by doing something good."

Ryhon sighed, but complied. He waved his hand and the boy was dressed in a neat faded and white shirt, that was nearly a yellow colour but was clean and comfortable. The seams were coming apart a bit by the sleeves that were folded up to his elbows. He had a loose mossy green vest on top that came half way to his knees, secured by a black belt with a golden buckle. The boy had beige pants that resembled leggings and brown, but well used, boots. He had a hood attached by a string, resting on his shoulders. The clothes were many times better than the ones that he wore before.

"These clothes are amazing!" He said, eyes shining, "I could go poaching for the king's deer with these clothes. I could feed my family!"

Ryhon flicked his finger and a longbow and a quiver of arrows appeared on his shoulders.

"Go. Feed your family." He said softly, then he raised his voice, "I invite one hunter for each family to tread forward and receive hunting garb and a longbow with arrows so that you can feed your families."

There was absolute silence.

"We don't know how to hunt, or to shoot an arrow." A man from the back called out.

"I can teach you. I know how to. I used to be a great hunter before we fell on bad times and I had lost my bow." A teenage boy about nineteen walked out from the shadows.

Then a man hesitantly stepped forward. Ryhon waved his hand and he got similar clothes and hunting gear as the boy. The boy stood next to Ryhon, eyes shining, watching the families finally having hopes for the future. The man smiled, probably the first one in years.

"Thank you, my lord! You have my humblest thanks. My name is Merchal."

Then he jogged back to his family and gave them all a fierce hug. More potential hunters came forward, some of them as young as eight years of age. Little boys without fathers to guide them through life.

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It took a while to get all the families equipped, but every moment was worth it, when Ryhon saw all the little children admiring him. Afterwards, he tried to locate his brother again. He teleported to the relative location of his brother, in a flash of golden light. Ryhon looked around. Something rustled in the bushes nearby. He was by a forest edge. So he was outside the city of Kenstel, then. The only other town on Sanobar near a forest is Doxford, but that one was many miles away from Kenstel. He conjured a sword and faced the bushes. Something sprang at him.