Page 89 of The Source of Storms

“Hello, Halja,” she said, clear voice ringing and energetic. How I despised that voice.

I did not answer.

“How are you?” she asked, looking down at me in the cot.

I kept my eyes on the ceiling.

“Did our last meeting leave a bad taste in your mouth?” she asked, and paused, awaiting my answer.

I did not offer one.

“Understandable, I suppose. But the truth is harsh sometimes, child. The truth can hurt. And it is in your best interest, and mine, for you to come to understand the truth.”

There was a pause as she waited for a response that did not come. I kept my eyes on the ceiling. I hadn’t even glanced over to see what her mask of choice was today.

“There are rumors going around the city that werewolves stalk the Tiverose Forest. The edge of which reaches near this very Temple outside the city, did you know?”

I said nothing.

“Several of Avanis’s citizens have gone missing. Peasants, mostly. Families out foraging or hunting in the woods. And one guard who wandered into the forest during his duty one night and never came back. His brothers-in-arms found his dismembered body in the woods two days later, half consumed, his leather armor ripped to shreds.” She paused again.

“Locals who live on that side of the city say they sometimes hear the haunting howl of wolves at night. They also say they’ve seen their tracks in the forest, and sometimes the tracks of large men as well. All signs, in their minds, point to werewolves. They believe people in the city are being turned and now hunt the woods at the night for their fellow citizens. I sincerely hope, Halja, that these shadowfiends have not been summoned by your Sourcery to terrorize my city. But worry not. Our guards will remove the threat soon enough.”

She was silent a while. So was I.

“Do you hear him?” the High Priestess asked, and a jolt went through me.

“Who?” I could not help myself from asking.

“The Dark One. Do you hear him in your dreams?”

I could read nothing in her tone. I did not answer.

“I used to hear him too,” she continued, taking my silence as confirmation. “He came to me at night, when I was already lost and alone. He talked to me at first, pretending to care. He told me I was powerful, important. He proclaimed he knew the potential I held. Then he turned angry and violent. He would threaten and berate me. He tormented my mind, and I, a young woman already dealt a hard hand by the world, nearly broke beneath the weight of it.

“I had no home then, no family. I was broken and alone and I prayed for guidance from whoever would listen. That was when the Dark One came. He knows when we are most vulnerable, and he exploits our weaknesses. He senses them, like a predator. So when I was asking for help, he offered me his. Although it was in truth no help at all.”

She sat down on the edge of my cot, as if we were two friends just having a chat.

“But my Lord Enos saved me. He came to me in a vision. Told me I was His Chosen One, a beloved child of His own blood. He told me I would be a great leader, and bring safety and security to all of Elvik. I pledged myself to Him there, and baptized myself in His name in the Gravesend River. I was washed clean of my past, born anew. I became His High Priestess, and never again was visited by the Dark One.” Her voice rang with pride.

She looked down at me, and placed what was meant to be a comforting hand on my leg.

“So if he does indeed haunt you as he did me, if he torments you, steals you from sleep, know that there is salvation in the Light. You can be cleansed of him, of your past, your shame. You are welcome in His Light.”

She rose and left quietly.

∞∞∞

The voice––the Dark One, as the High Priestess called him––had been mercifully more quiet that day. He spoke to me in low tones, calm and collected. Sometimes silent altogether for hours, like perhaps he felt guilty for his previous outburst. I shouldhave seen his mellow disposition for the warning it was: The calm before the storm.

I climbed into my cot, delirious with lack of sleep, and waited for his menacing laugh. Surely he’d ruin my sleep again tonight, just like every other night. He’d rip me from my dreams into his nightmare.

But I slipped into unconsciousness without interruption. Merciful, restful sleep.

I don’t know how long I slept before he came, but I awoke into his hallucination feeling like I had actually rested. I was in a bed draped with dark curtains, smooth onyx sheets and plump pillows, a room of all black. Candles were everywhere. On the nightstand, on the dresser, many floating suspended in the air. They cast a warm glow about the shadowy interior.

I sat up and looked across the room to see a dark haired, dark eyed man staring at me. His strong jawline and short hair framed an unsettlingly handsome face. Two horns rose in sweeping spikes from the peak of his forehead. He wore no shirt, only black pants. His body was incredibly muscular.

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