Lowelm's Shadow (Part 1) (Original)

And now for a bit of a change of pace. Fantasy is considered by some to be a lesser art of writing, because it's "easy" (at least to write bad, potentially publishable fantasy) and because the writer gets to make up their own rules for just about everything. And then they get to break those rules using magic. I would agree, but also argue that the art of writing good fantasy is very difficult, because you have to maintain consistency and develop the entire history, pantheon, social structure, etc, in order to present an engrossing and believable world.

But I digress. As a short story, it is largely devoid of the connections to the greater world, history, and all those good qualities I just espoused. But, rest assured, it does belong to such a world, and I hope to write more from it in the future. Also, this is the first part of the short story. I'm still working on completing it, but given what I've written so far clocks in at around 2,200 words, I thought it would be best to post it in two parts.



Naptali whirled as a threatening noise cracked forth from the natural thrum of the forest. Her long, burnished hair rippled with unease as a strange energy coursed in the air. Birds became silent and flittered away, while the soft thumping of feet spoke the retreat of deer and rabbits. Her elven ears pricked tightly, Naptali drew her sword with soft hands, unsheathing it without a single whisper against its scabbard. A faint hint twitched through Naptali’s body, telling her the source of the disturbance: magic.

Her footsteps barely left a touch on the wild grass, practiced movement meaning she was silent and untraceable. The trees rustled with grave warning, letting their friend know of an impending danger, all the while trying to conceal her presence. Whatever was stalking her, Naptali could tell it was close. It was moving cautiously, yet with not enough stealth, and she ducked quickly into a seemingly impenetrable growth of spiked bushes with untold ease.

The unknown foe approached as Naptali crouched at the ready, and suddenly a figure stepped before her invisible hiding place. In an instant Naptali was on her feet and had her sword point at her opponent’s throat.

The man stopped deadly still as he felt the sharp tip against the side of his neck. His dark eyes moved sideways to look at her nervously while rooted in place. Brushing the top of his hood back slowly with his left hand, he gave a puzzled look. “How in the world do you do that?” He asked incredulously. “And is that any way to greet an old friend, Naptali?”

“Drauglin!” She said with a great smile. He sheathed her sword and kissed him lightly on the cheek before embracing him. “It’s been too long, friend.”

“Indeed it has, my dear elf,” his look of worry giving way to a warm smirk. “Though, of course, I have to envy that you still look like someone I wish I could court.”

“Don’t be foolish, Drauglin,” she admonished him. “If you wanted to court me, not even your magic would give you the power to speak even one intelligent word!”

Both of them had been young when she had first met the powerful magician, and no matter how many years passed, neither of them could forget his painfully inept attempts to woo a young girl on that first occasion. It had been a running joke between the two of them ever since. Drauglin grimaced in mock anguish at Naptali’s barb and sighed. “Ah, a precious flower you would be to me, dare I to pluck you and offer my kind heart.”

“That’s more like it,” said Naptali with a grin. “But how come I’m lucky enough to see you here?”

Drauglin’s faced dropped. “I wouldn’t exactly consider it luck. That would probably be the last word I would use.”

Naptali knew the graveness of his tone spoke of a deep-seated worry. It was a voice that was reserved for matters of importance, matters that could affect the futures of many. She gave a concerned look East to the town of Lowelm, a community that had long been under her protection, and her home. “Come,” she said to Drauglin. “Whatever it is that you have to tell me, it would be best said in my home.”

“But,” began Drauglin.

“No,” she insisted. “It is late in the day already. And whatever it is can wait until we return there.” He nodded in reluctant acquiescence. “Besides,” Naptali added with a knowing look, “I’m guessing we’re going to need supplies for wherever it is we’re going.”

The two reached the small town just as night began to fall. Knowing Drauglin would not wish to attract significant attention to himself, she took him directly to her home. She moved quickly about the house and lit several lamps to combat the fading light. Offering him a seat, she sat down and looked at him concerned. “I’m worried that I might have an idea why you are here,” she said.

Drauglin appraised her cautiously. “What do you know?”

“I don’t know anything,” she replied. “Not for certain. I just know that I felt something about a week ago. It was big.”

“Magical?” He exhaled pointedly as Naptali nodded. For reasons Drauglin didn’t know, Naptali was strangely attuned to magic energy, despite that she was unable to use it. That she had felt something was worrying.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” She inquired.

“It was a release of magical energy,” Drauglin explained. “Or rather, being violently dissipated. Near the old ruins to the south.”

“I’d often thought to ask you about those,” said Naptali. “Though I suppose you probably would have dodged the question.”

Drauglin smiled. “Possibly, but generally I’m evasive for your own good. But in this case, until recently I wouldn’t have been able answer you. It was only because of that something that I found out what was there. Many things are forgotten and become secrets for a reason.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “What kind of reason?”

“Because they are dangerous things for people to know.” Drauglin’s voice had reassumed that flat, serious tone. “But sometimes they must be remembered. So that something can be done about them.”

“Stop speaking in riddles,” Naptali growled. “What is this secret?”

“To be honest?” Drauglin paused. He ran a hand slowly back through his cropped, greying hair and sighed. “I don’t know. All I know is that something is there. And it is nothing good.”

“You’ve got to give me more than that, Drauglin!” She exclaimed.

“I wish I could,” he said. “But I don’t know what it is. I just know that there is a lot of magical energy being disturbed. And there’s some kind of underground complex.”

“How do you know all this?” Naptali asked, her face hard.

“I felt that disturbance too. From a lot further away.” His eyes were flooded with concern. “I found the entrance yesterday. I walked only a short distance inside before I saw a corpse. The injuries it had sustained, it had to have been caused by magic.”

“I understand,” she said flatly. “We’ll leave tomorrow. I’ll ready my weapons and get supplies.”

“That’s it?” Drauglin asked.

“What else is there to say?” she replied. “I’ll make sure the town is prepared in case we don’t return.”

“You have a very bleak outlook at times, did you know that, Naptali?”

It was Naptali’s turn to answer with a dark tone. “Not all of us have magic to alter our destiny.”

She was glad Drauglin knew her well enough to answer only with silence.

They woke early the next day. They ate a full breakfast in a wisp of sunlight, and set off before it was fully risen. Both carried a small pack of food supplies, and Naptali carried her sword and bow. She had offered Drauglin a lightweight weapon, but he produced an ornate dagger and refused.

“No offence, Naptali, but if I have to use this, I doubt whatever you can offer will protect me more.” Her simple shrug was the only natural reply.

The hours of walking passed with light conversation, with both recounting events since they had last met. Drauglin shadowed Naptali, for her natural affinity with the forest produced an easy path for him to follow. Across the light scrub she found flat ground, through the trees she made a straight path, and in dense brush she trod an invisible track through seemingly impenetrable vegetation.

“Naptali, I think you have your own kind of magic in weaving through this forest,” Drauglin commented. She stared back with a blank expression, an icy disposition lurking beneath the surface.

“Sorry,” he apologised. “I know how you feel about magic.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she replied, and then continued walking in silence.

A few moments later, Naptali came to an abrupt halt. Drauglin, with his head still partially down to avoid her gaze, bumped into her back. She gave a short curse as she grabbed onto a sapling. Her body teetered forward over the steep bank of a river, the small tree stretching painfully under her weight. Drauglin recovered quickly from his surprise and grabbed her free arm, tugging her back from the edge.

“Thank you,” she said. “Though it helps if you look where you’re going.”

He gave her a sheepish expression, and then looked at the river. “I don’t remember this.”

Naptali looked at him quizzically. “I’m not sure how you missed it,” she said. “It’s virtually impossible to cover this territory without crossing it.” She looked left and right in vague annoyance. “But I thought it narrowed enough that we could leap it somewhere around here.”

“Why don’t we just wade through?” Drauglin asked.

Naptali scanned the river for a moment then pointed a finger at the water. Drauglin followed her motion to a patch of shade. Just as he was about to speak, a bird dived down and skimmed the surface of the smooth river. In an instant, the dark patch darted forth and a mouth filled with teeth emerged from the surface. A flash of those stained daggers enveloped the hapless bird and disappeared like a nightmare beneath the impenetrable murk.

“Good answer,” said Drauglin.

“Come on.” Naptali motioned for him to follow her.

“No,” he said. “My turn to find the path.” He signalled for her to come to him. “Take my hand.”

“What?” She asked. “Why?” She grimaced as her hand clasped his. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Probably not,” he answered.

Naptali felt her stomach churn as Drauglin’s eyes gave a brief look of concentration. Time felt as though it were slowed down and the air crackled with a silent sound that Naptali knew was magic. She almost felt compelled to shut her eyes, but she kept them open and saw the colours of the scenery warp into a green mud. As the blur cleared, Naptali saw they were on the opposite side of the bank

“Next time I won’t ask,” she said. “Though it still doesn’t solve the problem that I’m now not sure exactly where we are.”

“That’s not a problem either,” said Drauglin. “I know where we need to go.” He concentrated for a moment, and Naptali felt the distinct unease of magic pulse through her. “It’s that way.” Drauglin pointed a finger slightly to their left. “And it’s not very far away.” Naptali shook off the unnatural feeling of Drauglin’s spell and started moving in the direction that he had pointed.

The sun had already passed its peak and they had still not eaten since morning, so a trace of hunger lingered in Naptali’s stomach. She had a vague desire to stop and eat, but black clouds loomed with malice, so grabbed an apple from her pack and ate as they moved. She felt an uncomfortable itch on her skin for an instant, and turned back to see Drauglin with a peeled orange in his hand. “Can’t you use your hands like normal people?” She asked.

Naptali had almost finished her apple when they came to the clearing. The forest suddenly gave way to erratic grassland dotted with the remnants of buildings. The ruins were an oddity amongst the substantial foliage, for they marked an otherwise interrupted wilderness. There was something amiss in its presence, its silence dissonant against the typical murmur of the forest.

Naptali felt a chill rush through her body involuntarily, and looked at Drauglin accusingly.

“That wasn’t me,” he said worriedly. “I’m not sure where it came from.” His eyes glazed in concentration for an instant. “There’s nothing.”

“What do you mean, nothing?” Naptali asked.

“I can’t feel or see anything,” Drauglin replied. “There’s nothing around here that…” He suddenly looked at Naptali in shock as they both felt a massive surge of energy.

“What was that?” she exclaimed.

“We need to get to that complex. It’s coming from inside.” Drauglin’s tone was severe.

“You didn’t answer my question,” said Naptali.

“I’ll give you the answer when I know it,” he replied. “Follow me.”

They moved with measured urgency, eager to find the source of the disturbance, but also wary of its possible danger. Drauglin led with the confidence of conviction, his normally troubled step finding easy purchase on the undulating terrain. His steps travelled in a near straight line, his faultless memory taking them directly to a near invisible arrangement of stones near the edge of the clearing. “Here,” he said.

Naptali looked around, confused. “I don’t see anything.”

“Not yet,” Drauglin replied. A soft whisper parted his lips as his hand made a small circular motion at the stones embedded in the ground. Three pale flashes of light sprung forth from his hand and danced around the rocks. Their spirals lasted momentarily, then burnt out into nothingness.

Naptali stood bewildered for an instant, before her expression turned to one of amazement as the ground began to shimmer and fade before her eyes. The grass disappeared to show a small staircase of stone leading into darkness underground.

“A concealed entrance?” She asked incredulously.

“The mark of a secret that is supposed to be forgotten,” Drauglin said.

Naptali gave him an admonishing look. “Not everything can be fixed by hiding it.”

“Then let us determine which one of the two this is.” He motioned for her to go down. “Quickly, let's move.”

---------- To be concluded