Shadow Walking - Prologue

Late last year a new project came to me, an idea which imbedded itself into my brain while I was writing Hearts of Warriors. The initial idea came from the creation of The Praetorians in that tale. I loved the idea of  Elite Guardians though due to the nature of Hearts, the concept was going to be quite limited within that story. So I took the idea and expanded on it, coming up with a whole new world set apart from the FTI Saga. 

Welcome to the world of The Shadow Walkers. 

This story will not be posting up on Literotica. As I work on this tale I will post more chapters here on my Blog only. I hope you enjoy the Prologue for this new saga which I hope will be as good as, if not better than, FTI.

Enjoy! And please do comment or contact me via the Contacts options supplied on the Blog so I can get a feel for how the story is being received.

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 Shadow Walking - Prologue

 

Naughty witches in a row

Chanting spells they should not know

Casting light and ice and fire

Tempting Fate with acts so dire

Naughty witches tempting Fate

Halt this now ‘fore ‘tis too late

Darkness swirls within the gloom

Tendrils creep within the room

Naughty witches in a row

Chanting spells they should not know

Ancient Evil you will wake

And the world will scream and quake!

Deep within the cottage the Artisan shivered, an audible gasp escaping her lips as the faint rhyme ended and then began again from the beginning. ‘Ye Gods, NO!’

Where had they learned that rhyme? It had been centuries since any Artisan had used it as a deterrent to their children using magic unsupervised. It had once been in common use, the history of where it came from so vague it was considered harmless. Then one day the first tendrils of unease had seeped into the magic surrounding them.

It had been as if the darkness within the rhyme had begun to manifest itself the more it was chanted. Being in tune with any subtle difference in the flow of magic, the Artisans quickly convened a Council and the decision was made to strike the rhyme out of all books and scrolls forever.

Now Margot’s children was singing away happily outside and the more they sang the stronger the sense of foreboding became to the Artisan. Throwing down her spell book she raced from her work room, picking up her long skirt so she could run faster.

“Oro; Palantia, cease this instant!” She shrieked as she ran, her long black hair snaking wildly behind her.

Margot burst from the secluded cottage deep in the heart of the densely packed forest. Her son and daughter were still chanting, holding hands and dancing around in circles as their voices grew in strength and the wind began to gust, throwing up autumn leaves in a wild fury.

“NO!” she shrieked again, sensing the presence of evil surrounding them, trying frantically to get to her children as they danced faster and faster, magic crackling on the air. 

Naughty witches in a row

Chanting spells they should not know

Ancient Evil you will wake

And the world will scream and quake!

Lightening cracked overhead, singeing a tree not far from the children. Their mother screamed, thrown back by splintering wood. Her fear for her son and daughter clouded her mind as she feverishly tried to formulate a protection spell.

The children spun faster and faster, their dark hair flying in the wind, leaves and branches cascading wildly around them, their chanting never ceasing.

Margot chanted too, throwing out the strongest protection spell she had, crawling through the buffeting wind towards the spinning duo. Her lips moved silently as she dug deep within her, drawing on the power of the wind, her main source of magic. She tried to cocoon the children in a protective bubble but the Evil around them was skilled in the element of wind magic.

It fought her, wrestling control and weakening her spell to something so pitiful the children could have conjured up something stronger. She cried up to the sky, her voice full of desperation.  “Oh, Okeio, Goddess of Protection, I beseech you. Save my babes from this Evil!”

The wind shrieked loudly, the sound of the children’s voices faltering. The Artisan gained ground towards them, relief coursing through her as their spinning began to slow and the build up of magic started to subside.

“Thank you! Thank you!” she sobbed, finally reaching her children who had stopped their spinning and chanting and now stood with their backs to her. “Oro? Palantia?”

As one her son and daughter turned to face her, their little bodies moving in concert. Terror infused Margot and her mouth opened in a soundless scream as deep pools of darkness shone from their eyes, thin lines of red snaking from the corners to wind up to their foreheads in a intricate pattern.

Two little mouths opened but one voice issued, so malevolent to hear it froze her blood on the spot.

“Too late, Mama!”

The Artisan tried to speak, tried to issue some sound as she stared at her children and saw darkness looking back from their souls. Her mouth moved but nothing came out, sheer terror holding her mute.

A heartbroken scream finally issued forth, turning into dread and then complete agony as inky tendrils of darkness shot from the children’s eyes and entered their mother’s.

Margot began to writhe in anguish, blood pouring from her eyes. Within her body, pain like nothing she’d ever known before, began to grow as she felt her body temperature rocket upwards. Sweat covered her body, drenching her clothes in an instant as her blood heated dangerously high.  

She tried to pray for her children, tried to find some strength to protect them as they slowly boiled her alive from inside out. “Son; daughter.” Her words were issued on a cracked sound. Collapsing to the ground before them she tried to reach out but her strength was gone.

Finally her screams ceased and the darkness faded from the children leaving behind a girl of six and a boy of eight staring down at the smouldering remains of their mother.

Palantia turned to face her brother with a frown marring her brow. She pushed back her tangled hair, hating it long. “Should we feel bad, Oro?” she asked, wondering if now Mama was dead maybe she’d be allowed to cut it short. She smiled at the thought.

Her brother shrugged still staring at the corpse. “Suppose so,” he answered in a matter-of-fact tone. When the voice had whispered to them what they had to do Oro had felt a little unsure for a moment, but only a moment. Looking down at his mother’s remains he knew that he would have to help Palantia with the transition.

“We’ll have to pretend we’re sad when the others come but that’ll take a few days. That still isn’t a lot of time so we’d better go read Mama’s magic books and practice some more before the others arrive.” He stepped around the corpse and headed towards the cottage, his sister skipping beside him.

“Can I have short hair now, Oro? If I pretend good enough do you think I’ll be able to convince them that letting me cut my hair will make me feel better?”

“You can do whatever you set your mind to, Palantia, as long as you pretend good enough to fool the others.”

Smiling happily she skipped into the house with her brother. The Artisans would sense the death of their mother but they lived so remotely it would take them a while to come and investigate. Enough time for them to devour all their mother’s spell books and practice being sad at her demise. Humming to herself, Palantia closed the cottage door without a backward glance.