James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

It raised its smooth, hairless head. The snuffling sound came again, and Davian realised with mounting terror that it was sniffing out a scent.

Then it opened its mouth wide and keened in triumph, a sound so loud and shrill that Davian and Nihim both had to put their hands over their ears.

It came into the building slowly, deliberately, as if it knew its prey was nearby and didn’t need to rush. It moved for Davian with unhurried, almost lazy steps, a blade coalescing in its hand. In the corner of his mind not consumed by fear, Davian realised that the blade which was about to kill him was the same blade he’d seen the sha’teth use.

Nihim moved before Davian could stop him. He stumbled awkwardly to his feet, throwing himself in between Davian and the creature.

“You cannot have him. He is not supposed to die,” he said, lifting his chin in defiance. “You cannot -”

The blade moved forward in slow motion. Nihim screamed.

The following moments passed in a blur for Davian. Nihim crumpling to the floor, blood spilling from the gaping wound in his stomach. The creature moving forward through the mist as if nothing had happened.

Then it stood in front of him, its hideous, eyeless face studying his. Davian braced himself for the death blow, but the creature stopped, cocking its head and sniffing the air.

“ Ilian di ,” it said in a low, gravelly voice. It sounded angry, perhaps even disappointed. “ Sha di Davian .” Davian’s eyes widened when he heard his name, but he did not move.

Suddenly the creature exploded apart, disintegrating back into its wraithlike form, merging once again with the surrounding mists.

The unnatural, awful chill vanished from the air. They were alone once again.

Stunned, Davian didn’t move until a moan from Nihim spurred him into motion.

He knelt beside the priest, whose eyes were tight with pain. Davian looked at Nihim’s wound in despair. He tried to cover it with his hands, but the hot, sticky blood just pumped out between his fingers.

“What can I do?” he asked, knowing he was powerless to help.

Nihim exhaled, his breath bubbling, taking a moment to compose himself. “It knew your name,” he said eventually. His tone would have been conversational had it not been forced out through gritted teeth. “That’s odd.”

“Yes.” Davian rubbed his eyes, still trying to process what had happened.

“You made it leave,” said Nihim, his voice weak. “How? What did it say to you?”

“No! No, I didn’t do anything. It sounded… it sounded like Darecian, but I don’t know what it said.” Davian ran his hands through his hair, mindless of the fact they were still covered in blood. “We need to get you back to the others. Taeris will be able to help you.”

Nihim laughed, though it came out as more of a hacking cough. “ You need to get back to the others,” he corrected. “I fear I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m not leaving you behind.”

Nihim coughed again. Already he looked paler, seemed weaker. Then he drew a deep breath, putting a hand on Davian’s shoulder. “You’re a brave lad,” he said. “A good boy, and I appreciate the effort. But there’s no point. I’m fated to die here.”

Davian processed the statement in silence. “You mean… this was Seen?”

Nihim nodded, even that small movement causing his face to twist in pain. “By an old Augur friend, more than twenty years ago. I’ve been wondering for a long time when this day would come.” He gave a short laugh, a desperate, almost delirious sound. “It seems it’s finally here.”

Davian shook his head in disbelief, cradling Nihim’s head so that the priest would not hurt it against the cold stone floor. “Then why come?”

“To prove a point to Taeris,” wheezed Nihim, a rueful smile on his lips. He held up his hand preemptively as Davian opened his mouth. “No time,” he said in a whisper. “Go.”

Davian half-stood, then gave an angry shake of his head, crouching down again. “Fates take it. I’m not going to leave you here.” He grabbed Nihim and lifted him as gently as possible.

Nihim gave a soft laugh, which turned to a moan as Davian began walking. “Stubborn,” he gasped.

Davian crept out into the street again, barely able to carry the weight of the priest. He began moving in the direction he had last seen Caeden running, trying to ignore the blood still flowing freely from the gash in Nihim’s stomach. He didn’t know much about such wounds, but he was certain that Nihim would not survive long without assistance.

“I need to rest,” groaned Nihim after a couple of minutes. “Just for a moment. I swear.”

Davian considered protesting, but in truth his arms were ready to give out anyway. He came to a shaky stop, seating the priest on a nearby piece of rubble and turning to face him, careful not to let his emotions show. Nihim was dying, and there was nothing, nothing he could do about it.

Nihim looked up at him. “Listen, lad, there are some things you should know. Taeris hasn’t told you everything.”

“You should save your strength.”

Nihim shook his head. “He’s been waiting for you, Davian. He knew you would come,” he said weakly. “There’s a text from the Old Religion, written by a man called Alchesh, an Augur from two thousand years ago. It talks of the man who will one day stop Aarkein Devaed from destroying the world. Taeris believes that man is you. He thinks that….” He trailed off into a coughing fit, blood seeping from his mouth.

Davian frowned; delirium was clearly setting in. “We can talk about this when we see Taeris,” he said gently.

Nihim shifted, groaning at the motion. “Don’t condescend to me, boy. Listen. The Augur who told me about today… he told me I’d be with someone very important. At the end.” He coughed again, weaker this time. “Someone whom the Augurs had seen on so many occasions in their visions, over the years, that they considered him to be the centrepoint of this time - the fulcrum on which things in this era turn.”

Davian stared at Nihim with determination. “This clearly isn’t the end, then.”

Nihim gave a weak chuckle, though it quickly died out. “An optimist. I like that.” He paused for a second. “There’s something else, Davian. Taeris has a link to you. It’s dangerous for him. You need to break it, else he will die.” His breath was coming shorter and shorter now. “When you….”

Nihim trailed off. His eyes had gone wide, and he was staring over Davian’s shoulder with an expression of disbelief. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out, and for a moment Davian thought he had passed away.

Too late, he realised that something was coming.

He turned, but the blast caught him in the side. Suddenly he was spinning wildly, tumbling through space. There was agony, like a hand had reached into his skull and begun squeezing. A scream ripped from his throat, though whether it was from the pain, the terror or simply the shock he wasn’t sure.

It was like nothing he had ever felt before, ever imagined before. It was as if he had been cast into a raging river of grey smoke, a river of emptiness, of nothing – and the currents were trying to crush his mind, tear it apart, do whatever they could to utterly destroy him. He felt pulled in a thousand different directions at once, but unable to go anywhere. The buildings, the road, Nihim – they had all vanished, dissolved into the endless torrent of twisted void.

He struggled to breathe. It was impossible to say how long he had been in this state – seconds, minutes or hours – but Davian was filled with a sudden certainty that if he did not escape, he would cease to exist.