“Achlys, come forth.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Achlys crossed the room to where the Dark King was standing, looking out of the window. They were in a small, poorly lit room, on the top floor of the King’s castle. It was completely dark outside; what in the bloody hell is he looking at?, thought Achlys annoyed.
Achlys knelt, waiting for his lord to speak.
“I have felt a considerable surge in magical power.” The Dark King turned around. He was about 6-foot tall, still not a match for Achlys’ 6’4”, but the power emanating from him was mind-numbing. He wore a dark cloak, and, like the Pawns he commanded, covered his face under the hood. “I fear the Shader is increasing their power. Find them and bring them to me.”
His voice, usually composed, had assumed a hint of urgency. After all, the Shader was supposed to defeat him, if the prophecy was anything to go by.
“Yes, my lord,” repeated Achlys. He rose to his feet and left the room.
As he was walking down the corridors of the dark castle, he reflected on his task. He had felt a tip in the balance of magical forces himself. He knitted his brow. He could not be sure, but it seemed to have come from the land of the humans – my land, he corrected himself, surprised at how distant he had grown from it, after the long time he had spent in the Veil.
A steep spiral staircase brought him to the top of the highest tower. He entered the small, windowless room, and stood in front of the portal. It looked like a doorway, but filled with a bubbling dark purple matter, swirling around and forcing one to avert one’s gaze. The ether.
He sighed, running a hand through his unruly, dark hair. Closing his eyes, he focused on the surge of magical energy he had felt. It had lasted merely a second, but had felt incredibly powerful. He knitted his brow, concentrating. He let the vicinity of the ether help him track the source.
Click!, like a piece of a puzzle falling into place, Achlys locked on his target. The eyes of a predator now stared into the ethereal void.
***
The sun was blazing hot, but the overhanging branches kept the small beach cool. Neera stepped onto the pebbled shore, breathing in the salty sea air and smiled wide.
She had chosen this tiny, secluded beach in Duino, a village up the coast, because it was too hard to reach, for it to be busy with sunbathers. One could only reach it by walking a mile through the woods, on an unmarked path. She had discovered this place by chance about fifteen years ago, when she had got lost during a trekking outing. She had marvelled at the serenity this place inspired and vowed to come back one day; she never had the chance till now... but it was worth the wait, she thought, with another smile.
Theo walked to her side. “This place is... perfect.” He let out a breath, visibly impressed.
Pleased he seemed to enjoy it as much as she did, she looked around, examining the 5-foot-long pebbled beach for a good place to set their things down. Just as she remembered, the beach was covered in broken bows, leaves, dirt, just about anything the rain would carry away from the woods. Eventually, she chose a smooth rock on the side, set her backpack down and removed her shoes. He was eager to feel the hard pebbles beneath the soles of her feet, and, most of all, the cool water splashing around her ankles.
She took a few steps into the water and felt whole. The crystal-clear sea water was coming toward the shore in little ripples, splattering against her legs. She was wearing workout gear: spandex shorts and a crop top; but it felt wrong not to be in the water – it was calling out to her, and she wanted to answer the call with all her being. Good thing I brought a bikini as well, she thought, already anticipating a relaxing swim later.
Realising she had spaced out for a few minutes, she remembered Theo was still there. Embarrassed at her lack of manners, she turned to him and said apologetically, “So, um... where do we start?”
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