Fear Among The Shadows

Prologue

The little boy was afraid. Crashing into the trees, he went deeper and deeper, not knowing where he was going and not particularly caring. He didn't think about what had happened, all he was leaving behind, all that had been taken from him. He couldn't. It hadn't caught up with his brain yet and all that was on his mind was run, run, run. He needed to get out of that horrible place, get as far away as possible.

For just a moment the memories invaded his mind, crashed into him all at once – the fire, the screaming, the confusion - "Go! Go! Take your sister! Don't ever leave your brother! Stay with each other! GO!" – and he couldn't bare it. Everything collapsed into him all of a sudden and set inside an endless fear. He fell in a heap at the base of a tree and desperately tried to suck in air to satisfy his aching lungs. He couldn't move; shivering, trembling, muscles clenched so tightly, it was a miracle they did not snap. Only when he looked up to the blood red, setting sky from between the foliage did it dawn on him where he was; The Forest of Marra – of demons, of hells, of sin. The most dreaded place in all the land, where not even the bravest warriors dared to dwell. The place that was home to cutthroats, lawless mages and savage creatures.

His eyes widened significantly as he took in his surroundings with a newfound terror. Overcrowded black trees occupied his field of vision, with their long gnarled twisted branches that reminded him too much of hands and claws reaching to latch onto him. He had been used to the trees outside his window, green and lush and full of life. But here, the leaves were a garish, purple colour and their flowers a deep scarlet that reminded him too much of freshly spilt blood.

Blood.

The memories struck him again - blood splattered on the wall, her dress soaked in red, blood red eyes staring at him with fear and worry - fire.

He couldn't take it anymore. He pressed his palms into his eyes trying to stop the memories, staunch the bleeding of wounds that he could not see, stop the fear coursing its way into his veins.

He had to leave this place.

He had to get back.

Back where? His home was destroyed and he'd be killed the second anyone saw him. If he went to the humans, he'd be killed the second anyone saw him. Tull? They might not kill him but he doubted how long their hospitality would last. He was too young, too stupid, too frightened. He didn't know how he should react to this. All he did know was that he was alone.

Leaning on the tree, he pulled himself to his feet and tried to channel his mother's bravery. It didn't matter what he would find, but he couldn't stay still for much longer. Soon someone, or something, would find him first and he'd definitely end up dead. And who knows? Maybe he hadn't seen properly. Maybe the others did make it to the Forest and he'd run into them and everything would be alright...

As he walked, he couldn't help but remember all the heinous tales told about the Forest: the shadows horses that could kill a man using just their fiery gaze, the silver she-bedh whose claws could shred the thickest armour, the spirits that possessed one's body so they could get a taste of living again; and, of course, the most terrifying of all, the Witch of the Lake. Just the other day he had been telling his little sister the infamous story of how the Witch flayed a man alive for drinking a handful from her lake. All so she could leave him alone. He was sorry for that – guess who's going to get flayed now sister?

He trudged on and on, not having any clue if he was getting any closer to safety Or if that even existed for him anymore. Distractedly, he rubbed his hand over the scar on his face that ran over his right eye and down his cheek. It was stinging terribly, making his face feel tense and drawn.

All of a sudden, he heard the sound of a twig breaking behind him. He stood as still as stone, waiting to see what this Forest would send out after him. The gentle spring breeze turned into a crisp cold bite and everything inside him began to shiver. His heart raced, his fingers shook, his skin trembled; he did not want to die. He heard the sound again and this time he did not linger.

He bolted.

He didn't go far before his foot slipped on a tree root and he found himself tumbling down into a pit. He gingerly sat up and saw that the lip of the pit was at least a head taller than him. It was a miracle he hadn't knocked himself unconscious. He lifted up his arms and tried to pull himself out but he was too weak, exhausted and bruised to lift himself more than a few inches. He heard another twig snapping and the sound of steps on the leaf-strewn ground.

Whatever had been after him was here.

The boy backed away until his back was pressed to the wall at the other side of the pit. The creature came into view and he stifled a gasp. In front of him stood a great beast. Its body was shaped like a horse, with black obsidian hooves, but it didn't seem quite solid. It was made of black smoke, shifting and churning, as if eager to break free of this form. Its glorious silky black mane framed a long face where two sapphire balls of fire glowed in the space of each eye. The boy knew he shouldn't look into its eyes, that that was how they infiltrated the minds of their victims, but he couldn't help it.

They were the exact same shade as his.

He walked closer and muttered in awe and trepidation, "A shadow horse!"

It whinnied agitatedly and he could hear its voice in his head, "We are called the besokai."

His breath caught in his throat. He wasn't sure that the creature had actually spoken; it felt as though it shared its thoughts with him. While that should have brought fear to his heart, it brought an odd comfort, as though he were sharing his thoughts with an old friend. He wracked his brain for the meaning of the name it had said, because it was clearly Nendharian, until he found it – nightmares. The besoka then surged forward and bent its neck in a clear invitation for the boy to get on.

He should've hesitated, should've felt some reluctance, but no.

It was tragically and frightening beautiful to him. Comfortable. Familiar.

He hoisted himself up out of the pit and onto the creature's back. Despite its smoky appearance, it was surprisingly sturdy. It felt like any horse he had ridden before.

The besoka sprinted through the trees so fast, the boy didn't have time to take in his surroundings. It was a short ride until they stopped in front of a small shimmering lake so clear you could see the tiny luminous fish and the colourful algae at the bottom. Across the shore was a tiny cottage that seemed out of place in the overgrown brush. It looked very warm and lived-in and he didn't understand why anyone would choose to live in this horrid place. But when he saw the occupant he understood.

She was standing on his side of the lake and looked harmless enough; a plump short lady with a flowing floral dress and white hair tied in a loose bun on top of her head. Other than that, there were no signs of her age; there were no lines on her face. She could've been a young maiden or an old spinster. However, what hindered him from dismounting were her eyes. They were completely white, with no pupils, no irises, yet when they landed on him, he could tell that she saw him clearly. She gave him a small smile,

"Well, I've never seen anyone get close to a besoka before, let alone ride one. You must be very special."

"Who-who are you?" he stammered, "What do you want from me?"

She gave a slight chuckle, "I'm merely an observer. And I'm here to watch you learn."

"Learn what?"

Her eyes sparkled with a menacing glint that made a shiver run up his spine, "Learn to rule fear."

I hope you guys liked the prologue! Shall we delve deeper?