C. Friedman: Dominion

Suddenly a twig snapped behind her. She turned around quickly, seeking the source of the sound. But it had come from deep within the woods, and neither the thin stream of moonlight nor her makeshift torch had enough power to part those shadows. For a moment she held herself still as a statue, straining her sense of hearing to the utmost. But whatever was out there was silent now. Waiting. Even the normal chitterings and rustlings of the Forest had gone silent; a deathly silence reigned. Perhaps the denizens of this place were afraid of this new threat as well… or perhaps they had already fled the vicinity, leaving her alone to face whatever it was.

And then suddenly she heard another twig snap, this time directly behind her. She whirled about to face her unseen tracker, raising up her sword to the ready. The sudden movement sent spears of red-hot pain stabbing into her side, and she grit her teeth as she struggled to ignore them. But though she searched the shadows beyond the stream bed for any sign of movement, there was nothing to see. Whatever was making those noises was hidden in the inky depths of the Forest, and she was damned if she was going to plunge back into the depths of that foul brush to find it.

Maybe that’s what it wants, she thought suddenly. Maybe it’s trying to tempt me to leave the moonlight behind. The idea made her blood run cold. Only a creature of the dark fae would care about something as inconsequential as moonlight. She stepped directly into a beam of light, wishing she could somehow absorb it into her flesh so that it would remain with her.

When it became clear that whatever was in the woods was not going to show itself, she started walking again. There was simply no other option. She flinched as she heard a rustling on one side of the stream bed, and then on the other, sure signs that more than one creature was now flanking her movements. But there was nothing she could do about it without leaving the relative safety of the stream bed, and she was determined not to do that. So she just kept on moving, her hand gripping her torch so tightly that she could feel the blood pound in her knuckles, pain throbbing in her side with every step.

And then something flashed in the darkness directly ahead or her, reflecting her torchlight back at her in twin crimson sparks.

Eyes.

She could see the bulk of some large four-legged creature standing in front of her, and she thought she could hear it panting: a rasping, tortured sound. Its malevolence swept over her like a foul wind, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Only her faith and sheer stubbornness enabled her to stand her ground, with all the primitive instincts in her brain screaming out for her to flee. Or maybe she simply realized that there was nowhere to flee to.

Suddenly there was a noise behind her. She twisted about partway, not wanting to turn her back on the first creature entirely-but pain shot through her torso at the motion, with such force that it left her gasping for breath. For a moment she could not see anything but black sparks swirling about her. Waving the torch wildly around her to fend off attack from all directions, she reached out for some trees that she remembered being off to her left, a thicket of close-set trunks with a wall of tangled brush between them. It was the best cover she was going to get. She managed to get over to them somehow, and she placed her back to the natural barrier as she struggled to get in enough air to think clearly. The strange creatures moved closer, but they did not attack. She could make out their general shapes now, and as her eyes finally came back into focus, and could pick out a few details. They looked somewhat like wolves, though with chests more massive than any wolf God had ever created, and there was an oddness to the proportion of their limbs that made her skin crawl. She could have defended herself from both of them at once if she’d been in sound shape, but in her current condition she wasn’t all that confident. Still, there were only two of them, and if they were afraid of fire, as most animals were-or afraid of the faith that was bound to her sword-she should be able to handle them.

But then another creature moved out into the stream bed, beside the first, and her heart sank.

Another followed.

Despair welled up inside her as she watched more and more of the strange beasts come out of the forest, taking up positions in the open space surrounding her. Soon there were nearly two dozen of them, ranged in a semi-circle just beyond her torchlight. Their eyes glittered with blood-red sparks, and when one of them walked into a beam of moonlight she could see just how unnatural its limbs were. The muscles in its stocky legs appeared more human than bestial, and where paws should have been there were hands instead-or things that had once been hands, before the fae had deformed them.

Were the creatures fleshborn or faeborn? If they were merely animals that the dark fae had misshapen, they would be relatively easy to kill. But if they were true faeborn creatures, birthed by this planet’s malevolent power rather than by living animals, there was no telling what it would take to dispatch them. Some faeborn manifestations took on physical forms so real that they became dependent upon their flesh, and they died like true living creatures if their bodies were destroyed. Others flitted about the night in dreamlike wisps, the nightmare energies of their creation providing the illusion of flesh but not its substance. Against the latter species there was little defense but faith.

They all fed on man. That was the one terrible constant of Erna: all the creatures that drew their life from the consciousness of man had to feed on him in order to survive. But exactly what manner of sustenance a particular manifestation would require was anyone’s guess. Faith had seen some gruesome things in her life, in the aftermath of faeborn feeding, but she also knew that there were creatures who sipped from the emotional exudates of a man’s sleeping mind as delicately as a socialite sipped fine wine, their only spoor a shimmer of darkness at the border of his dreams.

Gazing into the crimson eyes of these beasts, she suspected they were not the delicate sort.

If they all rushed her at once the sheer weight of their bodies would bring her down, she knew; there was no way she could defend herself against so many. A cold sweat trickled down her neck as she prepared herself for the onslaught. At least I will go down fighting, she thought, her hand tightening about her sword. And I will take as many of these creatures down with me as God allows.

Then a new one stepped out from the shadows. It was taller than the others, but also thinner, and its proportions were disturbingly human. Its coat was not a mottled grey, but white-sickly white, crusted yellow about the edges-and its fur was stained with mud and worse. Its paws splayed out upon the ground like human hands, stunted and twisted but with recognizable fingers and even fingernails. And as she looked into the creature’s eyes she saw madness in their depths. Not some simple bestial madness, the rabid insanity of an animal brain pushed to the breaking point by having to live in this terrible environment. This was something darker. More frightening.

More human.

The others moved out of its way as it came toward her. Was this one their alpha, or something even more than that? Suddenly the beasts nearest Faith began to edge toward her, bringing her attention back to them; she swung her sword fiercely in their direction, trying to frighten them back. And indeed there was a spark of fear in their eyes as they backed off a bit, suddenly uncertain. But not in the eyes of the white one. The madness in that one’s eyes was a burning ember that did not waver even when the blessed steel sliced through the air right before its face. Could it not see the blessings that guarded her blade? Or did it just not care about such things? The latter would suggest that it was a fleshborn creature, despite its ghastly form. Which meant that it would be vulnerable to a simple physical assault.