Wayne Batson - The Rise of the Wrym Lord

She wondered if her parents would look in on her. Unable to have children, they had adopted three-year-old Antoinette and raised her as their own. Now, to allow their only child to enter a world at war was a huge risk for them, but in the end they trusted King Eliam enough to let their daughter go.

Back to the bridge, Antoinette told herself.

In her mind she walked to the edge of the cliff and looked down. It was a long way down-impossible to tell for sure how far to the ground because thick white mist swirled below.

Antoinette found a stone and hurled it out as far as she could. She watched it arc and fall. She saw it disappear into the cloud bank. And then she listened.

Nothing. Okay, so it’s a long, long way down.

Antoinette shrugged. The height didn’t worry her. She looked at the bridge. It looked sturdy. She looked at the sky. It was blue and cloudless, only the slightest breeze. She knew she’d make it across that bridge. In fact, she decided to run across.

Feeling invincible, Antoinette stepped out on the bridge. There, it was just as sturdy as it looked. So, off she went-a jog at first, confidence surging-then, a run. Then, an all-out sprint.

The planks went by in bunches. She started laughing as she reached the beginning of the upslope. Then she stopped running and stood very still.

She had heard something, and it was not a creak or a groan from the hallway or the rattle of the heat kicking on in her bedroom. It was not any house noise. It was a low roll of thunder, deep and menacing.

Antoinette slowly turned her head to the left. The sky, which had only a moment ago been peaceful and blue, had turned to a sickly yellow haze. And the horizon was black and spreading.

Lightning flickered. Thunder followed like the echo of a cannon. Strange, Antoinette thought. Why didn’t I sense the storm approaching? And then Antoinette was afraid.

Lightning split the sky. Antoinette ducked as thunder crashed and echoed off the cliff walls. The wind picked up and swirled. The bridge began to sway.

If the storm caught her out in the open, suspended over the chasm.

… Heavy raindrops began striking her. Antoinette held the Book of Alleble close to her body to keep it dry. Then she stumbled. Shaking, Antoinette knelt there for a moment. She wanted the storm to go away. She wanted to make it go away.

Maybe I should just open my eyes. Then she realized her eyes were already open. She was no longer in her bedroom. It was no longer a vision.

When she looked up, it seemed that there were scowling faces in the clouds. Hideous, angry faces full of hate. Her skin prickled. The air grew chill.

Antoinette stood again, clutched the Book of Alleble, and sprinted, calling out to King Eliam as she ran. Her King would not let it end here, before her mission had really even begun.

The rain came harder now, obscuring her view of the way ahead. She slipped on the wet planks. One foot went over the edge for a moment.

Thunder crashed. It seemed to be laughing at her.

Antoinette pulled herself up and struggled forward. Then, through the sheets of rain, she saw it. The door! She pushed forward until, suddenly, she stood before it. The storm was gone as though it had never been. Antoinette exhaled, wiped back her sodden hair, and whispered, “Thank you.”

The door was tall, hewn from gray stone and engraved intricately with castles, unicorns, warriors, and a long and winding road that led to two mountains. The sun rose between those peaks, and Antoinette’s heart rejoiced.

Seeing the silver ring, she reached down and pulled. Light, fierce and startlingly pure, shone forth from behind the door. Antoinette shielded her eyes with one arm and walked through The Door Within.

Wayne Thomas Batson

The Rise of the Wrym Lord

Passage

The light was warm, and all chill and dampness from the rain left. At last, the light dimmed and flew away to a pinpoint-one star among many in the darkness that seemed to stretch to forever all around her.

Antoinette now walked on a gray stone path. She felt light, almost as if she were floating. She began to hear voices, many voices, like echoes of all the conversations of history. But one voice rose above them all.

And though she did not recognize the language, she felt it was calling her. It was the voice of her King, and she knew it like a child knows the voice of her father. His voice drew her along, and she followed.

The darkness on both sides of the path began to flicker. Images arose-huge, vivid, moving images. Antoinette felt a tiny scratching in the back of her mind. Had Aidan said anything about this?

The first vision was of a deep forest where immense dark trees grew. In the center of the forest was a marvelous tree, older and taller than the rest. Its vast canopy suddenly withered and became smoke from the fiery cauldron of a volcano. Molten rock ran red down cliffs and into a cratered landscape spiked with jagged stone.

The vision changed again, and one dark crater became a tomb. Its door wrenched free and splintered. The vault was empty except for a rectangular altar of white marble in the exact center of the floor. The tomb vanished, but the white altar rested now on a wide balcony overlooking a sleeping city.

Suddenly, something blacker than night fell from the sky and shattered the white altar. It was a stone. In quick succession, another fell on the balcony. There was a marking in red on the stone. Soon stones like the first began to rain down from the sky, and the vision changed.

There were many visions, one after the other, accelerating so that Antoinette could not follow them all.

It is too much for you, an icy voice whispered. You will fail.

Aidan had told Antoinette of the voice that had warned him off of the path. She tried to ignore the voice, determined not to listen.

She looked at the path ahead. It was narrow.

Come, my darkness will save you, the voice called.

Antoinette did not veer right or left, but focused on maintaining her straight course. And there ahead was a window in the night.

You will not escape the storm again, the voice warned her.

With all her strength, Antoinette lunged for the window.

M ’lady?… M’lady, if you please,” a voice persisted. “May I enter?”

Sleepy, Antoinette thought the voice sounded familiar. Perhaps a bit formal, but nice.

There was a knock on the door. And again the voice said, “M’lady?

… M’lady, if you please. May I enter?”

Her eyes sprang open, and she sat bolt upright, looking around at unfamiliar surroundings. “Yes,” she said.

A Glimpse knight opened the chamber door. He was backlit in gold from the hall’s light.

“M’lord’s Sentinel has summoned thee.”

“Aidan?” Antoinette asked.

The Glimpse’s eyes flickered blue, and he shifted uncomfortably. “Nay, m’lady. I am called Aelic. You speak of my twin in the Mirror Realm.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just got confused because-”

“You have traveled the narrow path between our realms,” Aelic said. “It is quite disorienting-I know. I made such a journey once upon a time.”

“Am I… is this?” Antoinette looked hopefully around the chamber.

Aelic leaned a little farther into the chamber, but did not step in. “You are in King Eliam’s castle in the city of Alleble. On behalf of my Lord, as well as the citizens of the Land of Seven Fountains, I bid thee welcome.”

He bowed low with a flourish of his dark cape-all the while keeping the chamber door propped open with one foot.

“Thank you,” Antoinette said. Wow, she thought, Aidan really does look handsome in armor.

“On the chest at the foot of your bed, you will find warm clothes and suitable armor,” he said, gesturing and letting the door begin to close. “Elspeth will be along shortly to help you dress, and I suspect she will bring you a goodly assortment of victuals. I will return in due time to escort you to the Guard’s Keep.”