Robert Newcomb - A March into Darkness

When the first of them came to hover before its new mistress, Einar suddenly remembered. It looked like a deadly ocean ray he had once seen. Its life finally expired, it had washed up on the Citadel’s shoreline. This new being was similar in every respect, save for its larger size.

More of its fully realized brothers came to join it. One of them rose in the dark sky to reveal its underbelly. Although its topside was light gray like the fortress, its underside was of the darkest black, with small, scattered pinpricks of white.

Near its body’s top edge, a pair of glowing, dark eyes stared back confidently. There were no nostrils or mouth. It hovered before them gracefully, kept aloft by the outer edges of its smooth, undulating body. It was a beautiful, yet terrifying thing. As the rain continued to fall, more of them formed. Einar estimated that there must be tens of thousands of them.

Serena slowly lowered her hands. The dark cloud stopped spinning and vanished. The lightning and thunder slowly faded away to show a clear night sky, and the Sea of Whispers calmed. Their dark eyes glistening, the vast horde of beings Serena had created hovered quietly. Einar stepped closer to Serena. He placed his mouth near her ear.

“Permission to speak?” he whispered.

Serena nodded. “These beings are our servants. They will not harm us.”

Reaching out, she beckoned one closer. The edges of its body rippling gracefully, the amazing creature complied. Serena stretched forth one hand to stroke its velvety skin. The creature let go a sort of soft, cooing sound. Almost like a mother and child, Einar thought.

“What are they called?” he asked.

“The Heretics call them envelopers.”

“Envelopers,” Einar mused. “Why is that?”

Serna turned to him. “Did you bring the two Valrenkians I asked for?”

Einar nodded. “They wait in the corner guardhouse.”

“They are each expendable?”

“Yes. One is an old woman near death, and the other is a boy of feeble mind. Reznik has confirmed their uselessness.”

“Good,” she replied. “Bring them.”

Einar walked down the path toward the stone guard post. One such post sat wherever two or more fortress walls intersected. Employing the craft, he unlocked the squeaky door.

Inside, an old woman dressed in brown rags sat hunched over a table. A young boy with vacant eyes and uncontrolled drool running down his chin wandered aimlessly about the stark confines. His clothing was mostly red. Two consuls stood nearby, watching them. Einar gestured to the consuls.

“Bring them,” he ordered.

The consuls grabbed the woman and the boy, and started manhandling them toward the door. The old woman screamed, alarming the boy. As they struggled, Einar scowled at the consuls.

“Use the craft if you must!” he shouted. “Just get them outside!”

Soon the two captives became more compliant and started shuffling along. As the group neared, Serena held up one hand.

“That’s far enough,” she said. “You will soon understand why. Leave them there and return to me.”

Einar and the consuls did as they were told. Unsure of their fates, the woman and boy huddled together. As the boy started to cry, the woman smoothed his hair and spoke softly to him. Einar found the similarity striking.

Again, just like a mother and child, he thought.

Serena turned toward the nearest of her envelopers. “Go,” she said simply.

Widening its undulating wings, the enveloper streaked toward its victims. Its speed was amazing. It quickly wrapped its body around them. Then the screaming started.

Einar could see nothing of the woman or the boy, save for occasional glimpses of their boots. He guessed from their muffled screams that they must be struggling, but it was impossible to tell.

As the enveloper’s deadly embrace held them fast, Einar looked down at the victims’ feet again. Despite his years of experience with the craft, he felt himself becoming sick. Realizing that he should never show such weaknesses to Serena, he again called on the craft to help steady his legs.

Blood and other body fluids started running to the pathway. The two pairs of boots seemed to somehow lose their shape, and their tops slowly turned earthward. The enveloper finally released its grip. Einar watched as the woman’s and the boy’s stripped bones rattled to the walkway amid their wet clothing and flopped-over boots. Nothing else remained.

“Now you understand,” Serena said.

“What we just witnessed,” Einar breathed. “That is how they take their sustenance?”

“Yes,” Serena answered. Raising one hand, she bid her creation to join the others. The enveloper immediately obeyed.

“But surely we cannot feed so many,” Einar protested. “Despite your dislike for the Valrenkians, we still need them.”

“Yes,” Serena answered. “For the time being the envelopers will hunt the surrounding sea. But soon they will leave us. Then they will have all the food they could possibly need.” Serena turned back to look up at her creations. “Protect,” she said simply.

The thousands of dark beings flew upward to start patrolling the skies over the island and the sea. As they went, their undersides perfectly matched the night-so much so that in mere moments, they had disappeared from view. Einar suddenly recognized that the small specks of white on their underbellies had been simulated stars. Mightily impressed, he shook his head.

“Will they be so well hidden during the day?” he asked.

Serena nodded. “Their topsides will take on the appearance of the sea, the ground, or the fortress,” she answered, “depending on the terrain over which they fly. Their underbellies will take on the sky’s ever-changing look, be it day or night.”

Einar looked up again. Although he knew that they were up there, the envelopers were nowhere to be seen. He had to admit that he felt safer, knowing that they were overhead. A quick smile graced his lips. Should theJin’Sai ’s forces approach, they would never see the monsters until it was too late.

“All of the envelopers will accompany you on your journey,” Serena said. “When added to the creatures already awaiting you, your work will be well protected.”

Her words stunned Einar. “But mistress!” he protested. “Who will protect you from the Conclave’s forces, should they attack the Citadel?”

“Your loyalty to me is admirable, but do not fret,” she answered. “The Heretics have plans to grant me another form of protection. You will also take the Vagaries scroll with you. Your destination is the last place on earth that the Conclave will think of searching for it. To them, it will be hiding in plain sight, as it were.” She turned away from her lead consul and looked out over the sea.

“I am tired,” Serena said. “I will retire.”

Einar bowed. “Your Grace,” he said reverently.

After nodding to him, Serena levitated from the guard path, her gown billowing as she went. Einar watched her land on the inner ward, then walk away.

Looking up again, Einar used the craft to augment his eyesight, trying to find the envelopers. He stood there for another full hour, dutifully searching the skies.

He never found one.

“ARE YOU READY TO SEE THEM?” LOTHAR ASKED. “BECAUSEthey are so choice, at first I considered keeping one or two for myself. Especially the one called Mallory. They’re all a bit dirty and thin, but that can be easily rectified. I’d bet that they’re all virgins-yet another selling point. Before we talk price, you can check if you want. I’m sure the guards would be happy to help.”

Lothar confidently put his feet up on his desk. His highly polished shoes shone in the candlelight. Then he took the cigar from his mouth and blew softly on its lighted end. Tobacco bits clung to his fat lips, adding to the gluttonous impression.