Dack waited patiently in the grass. A small glimmer, a subtle signal to begin, was all he hoped to see. He had already spent many hours totally still, and the inaction was causing him to turn inward to his thoughts and motivations. During his entire life he had never wandered more than several miles from his tiny home. Today, in fact, was the farthest Dack had ever traveled for any reason. As the breeze gently moved the plant life around Dack’s hiding place, he began to recall everything Theterm had told him to survive his trip through the Shadow Cult forest.
Dack’s natural abilities to remember and to run were what made him a perfect candidate for delivering the Scarlet Brotherhood’s message. Theterm had told Dack all the turns, twists, and traps he would encounter, and Dack began reviewing them in his mind’s eye. It wasn’t enough to remember directions; he also learned how the Shadow Cult would react to his intrusion. It would be crucial to Dack’s survival that he be able to communicate, so Theterm taught him the words that could give him an audience with the most feared leader in all of Storality.
A message of hope and peace from the Scarlet Brotherhood to the Shadow Cult leader would be the first step in returning the island of Storality to its former way of government and life. Too much time had been wasted on selfish ambition by the current ruling kings, and the Brotherhood knew it was time to gather the people for change, both human and otherwise. Peace between all those who willingly and unintentionally inhabited Storality would be forged for the first time, or many would die trying to achieve that goal.
Stories, too incredible to be true, about exactly what and who the Shadow Cult were flooded through Dack’s mind. He had heard that they did horrible, unmentionable things to humans who had the misfortune of stumbling unknowingly into their forest. Here Dack lay just yards from possible death, and he had to put it all out of his mind. His job was simple: deliver a message and come home. When put that way, Dack’s mind began to relax as his body tensed, ready for action.
At first the faint reflection had no effect on Dack because of his deep thinking, but as it grew, he was aware that the time had come to act. Between two ancient trees the sun caught the smallest glimmer of steel as a cloaked figure moved toward a pile of leaves. Dack was told that the only time the Shadow Cult was vulnerable was when the guards changed. For a very small time their forest was unprotected as the outgoing guard turned his back and blocked the view of the incoming replacement. Dack knew their weakness and launched himself at the task of getting through their defenses to the leader who ruled in the midst of a dense and dark forest.
A guard, in a finely woven cloak made to blend with the pile of leaves in which he was hiding, stood with its back to Dack, a good sign that his timing was accurate. He knew that the guard couldn’t see him; by the time he heard him, he would be unable to react. Confusion was Dack’s advantage, for no human would be so foolish as to intentionally run at full speed into a heavily guarded territory full of highly trained warriors. Although his actions seemed insane to the two guards standing at the only entranceway to the Shadow Cult, Dack knew full well what to expect. His lips curled up slightly at the ends as the shadowed jaw of the incoming replacement dropped.
Come and get me, thought Dack as he barely dodged a steel blade, making it possible to begin this gauntlet.
Several seconds later, much longer than Dack expected, an alarm arose from the entranceway. A deep, bellowing sound echoed around Dack as the forest came alive with motion and sound. On the path straight ahead of Dack more guards emerged from huts and hidden places. Within feet of the guards, Dack dropped to his stomach and rolled into the thickets, barely missing thorns grown to stop intruders. While Dack, dressed in light summer clothes and a tight dark green cloak, was able to clear the thorns, unclear words of frustration were heard from the well-armored guards now entangled in their own trap.
Sliding down a small hill to another path, Dack found that not all the guards were stuck, but that was to be expected. Picking up his pace to a run enabled Dack to avoid limbs sweeping down to knock him over. The forest itself even gave him a few unplanned obstacles in the form of roots big enough to trip a large animal. Dack’s mind focused to ignore the sounds of numerous guards shouting at him in their own strange tongue.
Theterm had told him that allowing his body to run the course his mind knew perfectly, he would not have to worry if any small changes had occurred in the forest. Arrows whistled by Dack’s ears, but none came close, for he had memorized the method learned by every good Shadow Cult warrior on how to obtain a target. He only feared those who did not learn their lessons well, but he knew they would never be given the right to use weapons until they learned to fight as one in technique and ability.
Ahead, Dack saw the one thing he longed to see: an obsidian throne carved from a single large stone. Its dark features combined with the dim lighting gave the illusion of a hand rising from the forest floor. Finely detailed, the throne was the centerpiece for the Shadow Cult people, the place where their brand of justice was dispensed. Dack knew little except what Theterm had told him about the Shadow Cult, but he was impressed with what he saw of their craftsmanship and well-trained warriors. Something about their way of life appealed to him, called him to join them, but he had a task to do on behalf of the Brotherhood.
Circling the throne were hut-like houses made of wood and roofed with leaves. Impressive, Dack thought, but realized he didn’t have time to study their architecture; he was moving too quickly to see much more than blurred browns and greens. With guards closing in on him, many other Shadow Cult gathered their nerve to view the intruder who so callously invaded their part of the island. Dack knew that he had only moments until he would be surrounded entirely by an inescapable band of flashing metal.
Ducking under several outstretched weapons, Dack landed roughly on his knees in front of the throne. A strange sense flowed through his mind, like he had come home to a house filled with strangers. Many swords were trained at him, their points mere inches from his sweat-soaked skin.
“Minwa!” Dack shouted. “Minwa par Orex!” he called loudly while trying to catch his breath. Those surrounding him pulled back and looked at each other in astonishment. Strange words made Dack realize just how little of their language he really knew. “Minwa par Orex,” he said calmly but insistently. After some words, the guards moved back to allow a tall, thin individual closer to Dack. The official looking figure was covered in a dull grey robe that hid all of his features.
“Minwa par Orex?” questioned the official calmly, his face completely obscured by the hood of his robe.
“Orex,” demanded Dack.
The official moved forward to within inches of Dack’s ear. “You may drop the false pretense, human; sanctuary is only given by Orex to our own kind. You are nothing but human.” The official laughed as he pulled back his hood to reveal his gaunt, pale face. His deep black eyes locked with Dack’s, who, for the first time, felt his confidence shake.
“You speak the human tongue?” asked Dack, honestly bewildered.
The official nodded and motioned to guards to have Dack pushed down to the ground.
“Will you kill me without an audience with your king, Orex?” Dack shouted as he struggled to gain his freedom without success.
“Yes, human. If we allowed humans free rein in our forests, then more would die than already do at your hands,” said the official coolly. “I promise you won’t feel a thing. We are quite skilled at removing heads. I am sure you have heard that before, have you not?”
Dack swallowed hard and determined that he would suffer in silence. The official motioned again, and Dack could feel strong hands pulling his hair. Suddenly, the hands loosened their grip as the official spoke to the guards; Dack was put back on his feet.
“The mark you bear on your neck, how did you come by it?” asked the official.
“Theterm has always told me it is a birthmark,” remarked Dack, not understanding the sudden reprieve.
The official spoke hurriedly to the guards, turned to Dack, and continued, “You have earned a review from the king. If Orex decides he will speak to you, you will be free to seek sanctuary.”
“But,” Dack stuttered, “why did you make me—” The official held a single index finger to his lips, indicating that all questioning was over.
Moments ticked away in silence until a cloaked figure emerged from a hut in the distance, followed by a group of guards. This one is surely Orex, Dack thought as he studied his regal mannerisms as he closed the distance. Pale hands ringed with exquisite black bands of fine-cut stone distinguished this king from his people. Dack knew this was who he had to convince, the one who ultimately would decide his fate.
As Orex came closer, the official moved cautiously to him and whispered something quietly into his ear. Several more exchanges in a foreign tongue were barely audible as Dack strained to hear what they were saying.
“Approach the king, human,” demanded the official.
Dack heard the words, but it was difficult to obey. Something about Orex made Dack feel welcome, but the surrounding guards made him pause. Sensing Dack’s nervousness, the official repeated his request in a more commanding tone. Again Dack found his body rooted in place.
Blurs of black, grey, and white, accompanied by painful hair pulling, were all Dack’s mind could comprehend as the king rushed to Dack and pulled him to his knees. “When my friend speaks, you will act, is that not so, human?” asked the king, his voice little more than a whisper.
Dack nodded slowly as his eyes locked with twinkling darkness, which could only be the king’s eyes hidden almost completely by his hooded robe. “I am sorry,” was all that Dack could utter before fear closed his throat and dryness stilled his tongue.
“Good, then we can start again,” assured the king. “The mark you carry on you, how did you come by it?”
“It is from birth, I believe,” stammered Dack.
The king stood and motioned for Dack to do the same. The king spoke loudly to those standing nearby. Quickly, those who only moments ago threatened to engulf Dack rapidly retreated back into the forest. The official must have protested, but was silenced as Dack tried to understand exactly what was unfolding.
“I sense your need for room, is that not correct, human?” asked the king, already quite sure of the answer. The king composed himself, walked casually to his throne, and sat down. After getting comfortable, he removed his hood and stared commandingly at Dack.
Dack was told by several people that the Shadow Cult leader was strange looking, but he was not prepared for what he saw. Orex had a very thin face with close to milky white skin; he was bald with a small patch of black hair on his chin. His eyes, while black, faintly shimmered red when he realized that Dack was staring rudely at him. “I will cover myself if you cannot control yourself, human,” Orex said calmly, breaking Dack’s concentration and making him realize he had been lost in his thinking.
“No, it is that you are so different from me,” Dack blurted out.
“Could it be that you are the different one, and not me?” asked the king, smiling all the while.
Something feline and feral about the king’s smile made Dack feel lightheaded. “I am sorry. I never meant to say anything that would offend you. I am just so shaken right now,” explained Dack.
“That is good, human; we have a reputation to uphold,” said Orex, obviously trying to make Dack relax. The official smiled as he, too, relaxed and sat on the side of the stone throne. He motioned for Dack to sit on the king’s right, opposite him on the black surface.
As Dack settled comfortably on the amazingly smooth rock, the king asked Dack, “What can you tell me of your parents?”
Dack shrugged his shoulders. “Not much to tell you. I never knew them. Sometimes I have a dream with a woman who takes care of me, and I feel good when I awake, but I never remember much. My father I have no remembrance of at all. I was told he died before I was born. Theterm has raised me since I was a small child, barely old enough to know what was happening.”
At the mention of Theterm’s name, Dack noticed a faint return of red to the king’s eyes. Orex turned to his left and began to speak the Shadow Cult tongue to his most trusted friend and advisor, Valay. Dack began to wonder if he had insulted the king somehow, or if they didn’t believe his story. Valay, noticing Dack’s furrowed brow, held up his hand to let Dack know there was no need to worry.
Again the questioning came, but this time it was Valay who spoke. “How old are you, human?” Valay’s face seemed to glow with excitement that Dack could not understand.
“If the King’s Tournament were still being held, I would be allowed to compete. Is it not easy to tell that I am young, only a score from my birth?” asked Dack as he looked at the pale faces staring rudely at him. “Your people really do not know any more about those who live outside this forest than we know of you, do you?” Dack wondered aloud as he thought how sad it was that so much hate arose between humans and Shadow Cult because of ignorance.
“Humans have killed us since the day we agreed to come here with Lucan. They hunt and kill us more often than you know. We will never see our homes again. Death by human is all we have to look forward to in this life,” Orex said through clenched teeth. “You will have to forgive us if we have not had the time to study the human life cycle.”
Valay sat forward; he touched Orex’s shoulder and quietly explained, “Our human friend is right. Neither people have tried to understand the other recently. That can change now. That will change now. Your mark proves that you are the one to bring our peoples together, even the whole of Storality. Orex, we must not delay. Tell him what he must know. Give him his past, it is only fair.”
Orex locked with Valay, who did not look away. Dack realized that a power struggle was waging right in front of him, and he wasn’t sure who was winning, or what they were fighting for, but he knew it concerned him; he decided to intervene. “My name is Dack,” he announced as he held his right hand forward to the king. Valay spoke more Shadow Cult to Orex, who began to soften in attitude and demeanor. Orex looked at Dack and took his hand.
“You know me as Orex, King of the Shadow Cult, and that is fine, but I have been remiss in allowing you to introduce yourself. Please forgive me,” spoke Orex in a soft, soothing tone. “My friend, Valay, trusted advisor to our people, has informed me that I have been wrong to question you so harshly.” At this Valay nodded for Orex to continue. “You have gained the right to sanctuary because you are one of us; your mark proves your heritage.” Dack’s eyes narrowed, but Orex continued.
“Although you may not remember your father, I do. He was my friend, a general among our warriors. That is why I had to know your age, to see if one so mature as yourself could be so young as to be his offspring.” Orex stopped when it was obvious that Dack had something to say.
“Ask, Dack. It is all right to know,” encouraged Valay.
Dack could feel emotion building up, but needed to speak anyway. “My father was a Shadow Cult general? I am a part of all this?” asked Dack as he spread his arms wide and looked around with mild distrust. “Why wouldn’t Theterm have told me?”
Valay began to laugh, but stopped when he saw Dack’s seriousness. “Theterm did tell you, you just did not know you asked. By sending you here, for whatever reason, to seek Orex’s audience and sanctuary of our people, he told you that you would survive. Did he not tell you that the king would grant you what you asked if you but only reached the throne?” Dack nodded. “You’ve been told by other humans that to enter the forest is sure death, but yet you did. You trusted Theterm because you knew, somehow, that he was right.”
Dack stood up to think. His mind was filled with questions, but one had to be answered. “How did he die? Theterm would never talk about my father; he told me he did not think it was the right time. It was never the right time to have a real talk with Theterm.” Dack sat down and hung his head. “How did he die?” he asked, almost reluctant to know.
Orex spoke up, knowing Dack would want to hear the truth from his lips. “Your mother’s son, the current king of the Northern Territory, found out that his mother had fallen in love with one of our kind soon after the death of his father. The timing did not really matter so much as the kind, but that was not how he presented it to his hired killers.
“He gathered ten of his best guards to hunt down your father and mother. Although they had no way of knowing they were in danger, your father was ready when they attacked. Ten to one and still no humans made it back to the king. It was not a clean victory though; one had fatally wounded my friend, your father. Your mother risked her own life to return to tell us that he was dead, that the humans had done the killing, and that she was sorry.”
Dack snapped his head up and demanded, “What did she have to be sorry for? She did not kill him.”
Valay broke in, “Your mother knew what other people were thinking. She realized that her love was able to look past the differences between our peoples, but she knew others could not do that. Humans hated her, as well as many from this forest, but she was determined to do whatever it took to return life to the way it was before Lucan waged his war against the entire island. Your mother would stop at nothing short of a complete solution to Lucan’s war and did whatever it took to guarantee that he was totally defeated. True love, love that did not see boundaries, was the result.” Valay paused as he collected his thoughts.
“Your mother and father tried to unify the island while everyone did their best to selfishly destroy the fragile peace. Your father’s death did not stop us from helping the humans end the war, but it did stop any further attempts at peace since Lucan’s defeat.” Valay knew it was probably too much for Dack to grasp, so he decided not to add any more words to his answer.
Dack began to feel a peace inside, like he knew where he had come from, but felt empty when he considered what to do next. “Theterm must have known all this, right? So why wouldn’t he have told me?” asked Dack, feeling betrayed.
“Would it have helped you to know it before this time?” said Orex, raising his eyebrows. “Theterm knows much more than he reveals about many things. However, you will never know why until you ask him. Seems to me that he is always involved in the affairs of this island, but no one is ever sure how or why. He constantly moves about here and there, but why? Once you question him, you will surely begin to understand what to do next.”
Dack began to wonder exactly what Theterm had in mind, or was it just that no one understood him except Dack? Was Theterm always involved? Theterm had raised Dack; surely Dack would have known. More questions plagued Dack as he reflected on Orex’s and Valay’s words. Theterm had never told him much about the history of the island. What he knew he had overheard from Theterm talking with some of the Brotherhood. Dack had his chance to ask their side of how things had happened.
Orex, sensing Dack’s further questions, added, “Theterm has set you on a path, one that is perfectly suited for you. We can provide history, but it is Theterm alone who has the answers. Feel free to ask what you want, for it is obvious by your manner that more explanation is needed.”
Dack took a deep breath and looked around the forest before asking questions. Everything had taken on a different hue, more alive and green. Where before he only saw darkness and shadows, he saw beautifully kept flowers and people. As he continued looking around the forest, he noticed how close the guards were still standing after being dismissed.
These forest people have lost something, or rather had it taken away when they came here, Dack thought.
“Tell me about Lucan,” snapped Dack as he realized that it must have been that experience that hardened them into who they had become.
It was quite clear that Orex’s eyes were heavily tinted with red now that Dack knew where to look.
“Of all the things you could know about, you choose the one thing that is best left undiscussed,” said Orex sadly.
“What do you want to know about Lucan?”
“Why did he do what he did? Why did you help him?”
Valay sat forward and said, “We wanted our freedom. Lucan offered our people the chance to come here to see this island, our new home. He never once told us that others lived here, that we would have to fight for the right to the island. When we arrived, Lucan told us that if we helped him seize control of the king’s territories, we could take any part of the land we wanted. It did not take long to see that we were just pieces in a game that Lucan was playing. Our people turned against Lucan and he fled, barely escaping with his life. We settled here and realized we were never leaving.”
Valay sat back, saddened by his own thoughts of what he had lost by coming here. Orex, too, was downcast, but hopeful.
“Valay and I will return home someday, of that I am sure. Lucan told us that he was a Whisperer of Lore, and that is why he was able to open a portal between our two worlds. He called it the Way of a Whisperer, and said he was able to open many Ways to other places. I am convinced that he had to learn from someone, somewhere. Once we are given the chance to return, we will, and we will never leave again. Even though our situation was bad then, this is much worse now.” Orex sighed, remembering.
“Why your people? What did Lucan have to gain by bringing you here, only to strand you when you decided not to help him?” asked Dack, unsure of Lucan’s motivation.
“He needed us because we had learned many ways to defend ourselves in our own forest. He wanted to use our strength and skills, never knowing we were so much more than warriors. That is probably why Lucan only allowed our men to come here, so that we would be a dying breed if left here. Of course, we did not see any reason why our entire race needed to examine this world before having us come here, but Lucan was better prepared to turn the situation to his favor. Even though we did not help him, he still used us,” growled Orex.
“How?” asked Dack, becoming enthralled by the story that Theterm would never tell him. Dack wondered what he could do to change things.
“How? Simple lies about the new creatures that suddenly appeared and tried to kill him were enough to have numerous humans trying to kill us. We did not know your language then, and only Lucan was able to speak in our tongue. He wanted to draw the island together under his leadership to defeat the menace that the present kings could not face. However, his shouts were not heeded any longer when we retreated farther into the forest and bothered no one unless they first attacked us,” finished Orex.
“Lucan had a plan, well thought out,” began Valay, “but it was not what the humans wanted, so he found others to help fight his war.” Valay looked at Dack with obvious sorrow. “Human against human, that was the real tragedy of his plan.”
Dack looked at Orex and Valay differently now that he knew their side of the story. It was not completely their fault that they were so hardened, but he wasn’t sure if he could help them get home. “Is ‘Shadow Cult’ what Lucan called you?” asked Dack as he began to see them differently.
“Yes, that was what Lucan wanted all to believe we were: some dark, twisted people from an evil place. It is hard not to become what everyone believes you are and forces you to become. Our people have changed; they grow weary of being forced to live in such a small area. Our world was mostly unknown to us, as is this place,” concluded Orex.
Dack, as if remembering something he had almost forgotten, said excitedly, “That is why I have come. I got so caught up in my problems and questions that I neglected to fulfill my duty as a messenger.”
“You mean there was a purpose to this visit?” asked Orex, laughing. “What is your message then?”
Dack stood up and straightened his clothes. “I am here on behalf of the Scarlet Brotherhood to offer a bargain. The Brotherhood will aid you in protecting your people and your forest if you will give them your help as they try to reestablish the King’s Tournament in the Central Territory. It is their desire to give those who have been stranded by Lucan a chance to empower themselves while returning Storality to its old government and way of life.”
Orex and Valay had to stifle their amusement at how serious Dack had become; he was quite a polished diplomat. “So, the Scarlet Brotherhood wants our help again?” asked Orex while rubbing his chin. “I guess you trust these people, Dack?”
“I trust they will succeed with your help,” answered Dack.
“If they promise to help us, we will extend our pledge to aid them. You may tell the Brotherhood that whenever they need anything, they have but to ask. Do you plan to return to them shortly?” asked Valay.
“I wish to stay and talk with you, perhaps meet some of your people, if that is acceptable,” Dack said hopefully.
“You are one of us, and everyone will want to meet you for themselves. If you can delay your return, we will feast tonight, and you may move about our forest freely. Valay and I will introduce you to our generals and our historian. I am sure that between the questions we all have it will be several days before we really get to know each other,” Orex said as he stood and motioned for them to move to another location.
“I would really like to stay a while before I get back to Theterm and the Brotherhood,” concluded Dack.
Over the next several days Dack learned as much as he could about his parents and the people who, although he was different, so lovingly embraced him. While Dack was well trained in defending himself, Orex managed to find several teachers who had some new techniques that completely amazed Dack. His stay was purposefully refreshing, for he knew that once he left the shelter of the forest, he would once again be faced with the challenge of helping the Brotherhood gather popular support for their plans.