The Edge of The Light
A short story I wrote in between edits of my book.
The skin was pale and taut. Specks of ice had formed on the beard, and the ivory gull tattoo on the left side of the neck peeked out, barely visible underneath the man’s cloak. It was Frode. That part wasn’t in doubt. A pit in my stomach preceded a brief wave of nausea. I blinked my eyes twice, willing it away as best I could, and continued with my assessment. Two puncture wounds about three inches apart sat on the right side of Frode’s neck, just below the chin—no obvious signs of a struggle.
Footsteps coming towards me, crunching under the freshly powdered snow that had come in last night, caught my attention. I looked up to see Velm, dressed in a thick coat, a leather breastplate, deerskin trousers, and boots. He had a thick blonde beard and mustache that made his mouth almost disappear. I nodded, brow furrowed, acknowledging Velm’s presence.
“Shit,” Velm said, assessing the frozen corpse, flicking a finished cigarette into the brush nearby. I knew Velm wasn’t the religious type, ever preferring to drink mead than attend chapel, but even he had to be unnerved by this.
“We’d best get him cremated before others see him. We don’t want a panic,” Velm continued, his voice low like the rumble of distant thunder.
“Too late,” I responded, my eyes darting to over a half dozen or so onlookers gathered a couple of dozen feet away, gawking at the pool of frozen blood that had stained the gravel path underneath Frode’s body. Velm eyed them too, visibly annoyed.
“Come on. Take him away,” Velm said, under his breath. I nodded, wrapping Frode in my thick wool coat and cradling him in my arms as best I could as Velm turned to face the crowd.
“Nothing to see here, folks. Just a drunk who slipped and hit his head. It’s unfortunate, but that’s what it’ll do to ya if ya let it. Now, be gone,” Velm said, putting on an uncharacteristically chipper voice for the crowd. A few asked who the corpse was, and one wanted to know what killed him. Velm merely smiled and nodded, answering their queries in a way that made it seem like he had answered their question without actually answering it. Reluctantly, the onlookers began to disperse soon after, mostly satisfied with Velm’s answers. They all knew him. They trusted him.
I carried my now deceased friend over to the cemetery behind the ruined chapel. The other Watchmen and I had set up an altar behind the abbey where desecrated bodies could be burned in relative peace. It had been months since it was last utilized, a thin layer of dust covering that altar now. I dumped Frode onto the thick grey slab of stone. Boris, a fellow Watchman charged with managing that site, began stacking firewood along the base of the stone and underneath Frode’s body. I took a few steps back, lighting up a cigarette as I watched him work, keeping a careful eye on Frode for any signs of movement. Before long, the flame was burning bright against the pale white sky as a pillar of smoke climbed up towards the clouds.
“May the spirits cradle you now, brother. It’s time to rest,” I mumbled, creating a small sign with my hands in the air across my chest. The fire bloomed even brighter as if in response before quieting down once more. Boris sidled up to me.
“So, what now?” he asked.
“Well, Boris, we track down whatever did this and deal with it before it becomes a real problem,” I said, looking into the flames, mesmerized by a world a thousand miles away, one where Frode was alive.
“Do you think it was…the Beast?” Boris said, his voice almost a whisper as he leaned in close. The wind picked up slightly, almost in response to Boris’ foul invocation.
“Yeah, I think so, Boris. Do you want to come help us kill it?” I said, turning towards him, my lips curled into a smirk. Boris shrank a few inches back and laughed.
“No, no, no. I was never the fighting type. Best if I remain here if you need anything. We got so little firewood. Maybe I’ll get some more,” Boris said, his words meandering off as he ventured down a little path into a copse of trees nearby. I didn’t respond, content with watching the flames flicker a little longer. Eventually, the crunching of snow brought me back from my thoughts. Velm stood beside me, putting a hand on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he said solemnly in that matter-of-fact way, as if he could never be surprised at the cruelty of the world.
“It’s fine. I didn’t know him that well. But I thought we were done with it. We burned everyone. All of them. How could we have missed one? I just…what was the point?” I said, my voice low on the precipice of breaking, taking another drag of my cigarette.
“Listen, Hrul. We had four good months. That was the point. We bought the people here in Gaelheim four months of peace. That is not nothing. And now you know what we must do,” Velm said, turning towards me, both hands on my shoulders now, his blue eyes searching mine for any sign of the wild-hearted person he’d known his whole life. I nodded, asking the unspoken question.
“Tonight. This thing can’t be too far. We end it now, before it’s too late.”
The Daeling Expanse covered Gaelheim’s western flank for miles. Some even believed it stretched to the ends of the earth. In reality, I had seen the other side of that great forest, having business in the sprawling city of Fjordham many years ago. It was a long trek, but a surmountable one. After the cremation, I secured a horse from the stables, hitching it to a post by the tower on the outskirts of town, while I waited for him to join me. Velm said he’d meet me there after he took care of some business. I assumed he was letting each one of his mistresses know that he loved them deeply and would be thinking about them the entire time he was away. I had been alone for a while now and preferred it that way. Sometimes, I wondered if that was just a thing lonely people say to cope or if I truly felt it.
I perched myself atop a low wooden fence while my horse meandered a bit and grazed. I pulled out a paperback novel from a pocket within my coat, fingering through the yellow pages of the book to find where I’d left off. These pulpy fantasy novels helped keep my mind off things. My grandfather had left me with a whole set before he passed late last year. I had already made it through six of them. This one followed the son of a King who dared to drive the kingdom to war.
“Look what the wolf dragged in,” a voice said from behind me. I turned to see the towering, sleek form of Selene atop a gray steed, trotting towards me.
“So Velm dragged you into our little excursion, too?”
“He said you’d need someone to watch your back after you run away screaming from the monster?” Selene replied with a smirk.
I chuckled.
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
Selene opened her mouth as if to say something, but before she could, the voice of Velm caught our attention.
“Ahh, so we’re all here,” Velm said, astride a black horse, “We have about a day or so ride to the forest’s edge. From there it’s on foot.” Selene and I both nodded, dutifully mounting our own steeds and falling in line behind Velm, with him in front, then me and Selene taking up the rear.
We weaved our way through the rolling snowy hills that cradled Gaelheim and made our way westward. Little conversation passed between us, reserving every bit of fortitude we could muster to stay warm against the frost.
It took six hours to get to the western edge of the Daeling Expanse. Its trees shot up towards the heavens, towering above us as we approached. I remembered a legend I’d heard once when I was but a child that claimed that the tallest trees here were actually pieces of wooden giants that had long ruled the world before man rose to power. I couldn’t help but feel a chill run down my spine at the thought. This was clearly an ancient place, rife with secrets.
As the sun sank low in the sky, we decided to make camp for the night, content with entering the forest the following morning. Within an hour, three tents were pitched, a thin trail of smoke wafted into the sky as a campfire burned, and the savory sizzling of two rabbits caught and prepped by Selene caused me to forget even momentarily about the bitter cold. Velm produced several bottles of ale and passed them around.
I peered up towards the sky. The stars were just starting to reveal their full majesty against the dark tapestry of nature that surrounded us. I remembered my father taking me out at night, teaching me the names of different constellations. Monikers like Cephus, Cassiopeia, and Lyra, he told me. These were the names of our astral neighbors. He would say how these constellations were always watching us. But not in a hostile way. He’d stress that these cosmic forces of starlight were vast but never wished us ill will. They watched us out of curiosity because, for some strange cosmic reason, the machinations of our world meant everything to them.
I wondered if he was up there somewhere too, watching me with curiosity, with all the rest of the stars. My father died several months ago while dealing with the first incursion of the curse. I remembered the funeral like it was yesterday. I remembered seeing his body burning. I was convinced then that we had won. That my father had died so that the rest of us could be free. That Gaelheim could be free. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
Sleep was hard to come by, filled with dreams and visions of a horned face within the fire, gazing back, screaming. I awoke suddenly, the soft words of Selene and Velm telling me they were still awake as well. Several minutes passed before I decided that sleep was not returning, and so instead I meandered out into the cold night to join my two comrades by the fire.
“Ah, the man returns. No rest for the wicked, right?” Velm said, the buzz of mead still wafting off him in waves.
“Ay, I wonder if there’s any ale left for the rest of the trip, or did your sorry ass drink it all, Velm?” I snapped.
Velm gave me an odd look before motioning to a brown bottle perched atop a nearby rock. I grabbed the bottle and headed away towards the edge of the woods. Selene followed. Velm, ignoring us as we walked off, began singing an old drinking song, The Dairy Boy from Derry. His bellowing voice faded as we reached the treeline.
“Easy, Hrul,” Selene whispered from behind me, hand on my shoulder, “No need to come to blows before that thing has a chance of taking us out.”
“I’m sorry. Bad dream,” I responded, taking a swig. A moment passed between us before I continued, the ale loosening my lips and my judgment, “It’s just that I knew Frode. He was a good kid, and this git is carrying on like nothing happened.”
Selene looked back towards the campsite. The flames appeared to have grown as Velm tossed more logs on the fire.
“I know. Don’t push it, though. You know how he can be,” Selene said, “We don’t need to be doing the monster’s work for it.”
I turned away from Selene, taking in the imposing trees that stood guard before us; their branches swaying in the wind, a verdant wave beyond even Selene’s capacity to grasp. I took another swig before facing Selene once more.
“Why did you agree to come?” I asked.
Selene looked back at me, her pale green eyes shining in the starlight.
“Because who else is going to keep you two alive?”
The morning was grey, threatening a storm on the horizon. I lay awake in my tent, wondering what would come by nightfall. Would we find the beast? Would it find us? The sizzling of stew on the fire roused me from my thoughts. It was time to begin.
As I emerged from my tent, I spotted Selene gingerly stirring the contents of an iron pot while tending to the flames. The wind had picked up a bit, threatening the modest embers. Selene was a skilled naturalist, though, having created fire in far worse conditions. A little wind and cold wouldn’t stop her.
“Where’s Velm?”
“Went on a bit of a scout. I think he’s restless.”
I nodded before sitting across from Selene, pulling my down feather coat tight, trying desperately to hold onto any warmth I could. I knew once we ventured into the forest, the temperature would drop even further.
“May I help?” I asked. Selene eyed me, knowing what was coming next.
“It doesn’t taste as good,” Selene said, “But fine. We should probably get moving soon anyway.”
I drew a sigil in the air. Faint silver smoke outlined the edges of it before dissipating. The fire roared to life, and the stew began to bubble. The smell of rosemary and potatoes was pungent.
“It’s not that bad. And it saves time,” I said, finishing my little trick, a smirk betraying my usual stoic face. Selene didn’t object. I knew she liked taking her time with things. It felt more natural to her. Footfalls nearby heralded the arrival of Velm back at camp. He wore his leather breastplate, a fur-lined coat, and a pair of black boots. On his belt were two hand axes and several component pouches, no doubt used for dressing and binding.
“He returns. Is the monster slain already? Don’t tell me you did all the work for us?” I said.
Velm smiled.
“Glad you could join us. Hurry and eat. We should get moving within the hour.”
The plan was to bring only what was necessary. No tents, fires, or other supplies. Just enough to spend a night or two amongst the trees if absolutely needed. With little fanfare, we ate and packed minimally, and then crossed the threshold into the Daeling Expanse, deciding to leave our horses behind with enough feed for a day or two. No more than a few dozen feet in, a silence greeted us, punctuated only by the occasional rustling of rocks or twisting of branches. Rays of light dipped down from amidst the thick canopy, illuminating our path. Life existed here. I had no doubt Selene could spot with relative ease the creatures that chose to make this place home. To me, everything was quiet; the sounds of the world blocked by the wall of trees that was now at our backs. I said a soft prayer as an elegant, bold rune flashed across my chest.
We weren’t trying to be stealthy. The beast only hunted at night. Now, we had to make up as much ground as we could, as we weaved between massive roots and trunks that crisscrossed the ground, the spidering of an ancient network that had seen the cycles of death and rebirth a thousand times over. Was the forest even aware of our passing? Did it care? Velm led the troop, his pace surefooted and determined, like a string was pulling him towards some undetermined pit where we would either fall or cross to the other side. I could sense that restlessness in him, and I suspected he resented the fact that he wasn’t dispatched to deal with this threat months ago. But the council didn’t trust him. Believed he was hiding something.
I was loath to blame them. As effective as Velm could be sometimes, it was hard to penetrate what he was thinking. Sometimes, I didn’t see anything behind those eyes, and other times I spotted something unknowable. The sun was beginning to dim, and the temperature plummeted. There was a hope that another camp wouldn’t be necessary, but as the cold of the night began to set in, we resigned ourselves to our fate. Selene managed to get a modest fire going to give some light to whoever kept watch, though any real warmth was hard to come by. She also managed to forage some berries and trap a few small mice for a modest soup. I can’t imagine making this trip without her here. Velm volunteered to take first watch.
Velm’s dead. Attacked during the night by that thing. Two puncture holes in his neck. Like Frode. Velms’ eyes were wide, not with horror but perhaps an acknowledgment. I couldn’t be sure. His chest was soaked in blood. Selene began digging. It would take at least an hour or so to burn the body properly, but it would be a risk to leave him.
Neither of us spoke. I wondered why it had spared us. Did it enjoy this cat-and-mouse game? What was the point of this? For as much of a prick Velm could be at times, it was hard to imagine he could be taken down by that thing. There were moments where he seemed invincible, like a giant striding among men. But now it had become clear how human he was. A pang of sadness washed over me. I would miss him, and I resolved then to remember him however I could.
I drew a sigil over Velm’s chest before tossing a torch into the hole we had dug, filled with wood and leaves. Once I felt the flames had done their work, I filled it in with dirt, hoping that would be enough. I stood there a few minutes, wondering what more to say, if anything at all, when Selene beckoned me to a thicket of roots at the base of a nearby tree. There was blood on it. And not Velm’s. It was thicker and darker. Almost sludge.
She motioned further down. Another smear dotted some leaves on the ground. It seems Velm may have injured this thing and given us a path to follow. I nodded to her. She began gathering up the meager cache of supplies we had brought with us, which wasn’t much and would be even less now that we were down one person. I made a point to grab one of Velm’s hand axes before we cremated him. The other one was missing, perhaps a parting gift to the beast courtesy of Velm. Within ten minutes, Selene and I were following the blood trail as best as we could.
It wound through the trees; sometimes there would be a dozen feet or so between signs of blood. I followed silently for a bit, observing Selene work. She truly was a master. I envied her. She had found her calling long ago. Even with the gifts given to me, I still felt so unsure. Eventually, Selene raised her hand, signaling me to stop, silently waving me over.
Through the underbrush built into the side of a curving ridgeline was the overgrown entrance to a cave, a yawning expanse that seemed to pull us towards it. I was frozen, fear curdling in my stomach. A part of me wanted to run as fast as I could, yet I knew there wasn’t any going back. That thing would pick us off before we came close to the tree line.
“That thing gets nourishment from people’s blood, right?” Selene asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“It got Velm ultimately, so how come it’s still injured?” My face scrunched up for a moment as the realization hit me. I unhooked Velm’s hand axe from my belt and looked at it. At the tip of the blade was a thin, gleaming line of silver, running the length of it.
“How did he afford this?” I asked.
“Seems he had his secrets indeed. You ready?” Selene said, looking at me.
“Yeah,” I said, moving ahead, not waiting for her reply. I would not have blamed her if she had decided to turn back in that moment, but she did not, following me across that dark threshold into the monster’s lair. Our footfalls echoed through the earthen tunnel as it descended deeper underground. I turned back briefly to see the circle of ambient light framed by the cave entrance, begging me to turn back, like it was reaching out a hand to someone about to be swallowed up by the abyss. I continued onward.
The tunnel curled back and forth, snakelike under thick rock and stone. Selene cobbled together some bits to make a torch. Eventually, the passageway opened to a larger domed birdcage-like cavern. I saw the path we followed morph into a set of roughly hewn stone stairs that snaked downwards along the sides of the cavern walls towards a ground floor about a hundred feet below. I peered over the edge to see a figure down below, hunched over something. Its form seemed to undulate.
As we began our slow descent, I could make out all manner of runes and other esoteric symbols covering the walls. Even with my familiarity, the essence seemed garbled, like the various words were being passed through a sieve that removed something essential from them. The imagery drew most of my attention, with a particular phrase revealing itself to me over and over.
“The reasonable lay down their arms; the enlightened grow wings.”
As we progressed, a sick moaning sound began to emanate from the figure below. I assumed this to be the thing that had murdered Frode and Velm, the perverse survivor of the troubles that had plagued Gaelheim several months ago. As we took our final step onto the floor of the cavern, the crunching stopped. It knew we had arrived. A sick hollow laughter took its place, one that started small but grew to encompass the entirety of this desecrated place.
I pulled Velm’s hand axe from the loop around my waist, holding it high so the monster could see it. Selene stayed a bit farther back, notching an arrow in her bow. This was it. This is what we came here to do.
“And who wanders in? A willing host, perhaps?” a raspy voice crooned, the monster still hunched over. As we inched closer, I noticed a thick pool of black liquid at the monster’s feet stemming from a gash in its side. No sign of the other ax. Beyond the entity itself was an altar, draped in a cavalcade of bones, both beast and human alike, a profane place of worship.
I circled left to one side, giving the beast a wide berth. In the profile, I saw the monster tearing at the innards of a large moose, slashes crisscrossing the mutilated carcass. Blood and gristle covered the floor, pooling the monster’s blood as well, only a thin demarcation in color and viscosity separating them.
The monster froze, its head jerking toward me as I circled it. It then stood to its full eight-foot height; its skin pulled tight along a thin, lithe body. Three-inch claws stemmed from each of its fingers, and two horns curled from each side of its bulbous head. Thin strands of black hair came to its shoulders. It smiled curiously, revealing a set of sharp canines, covered in blood.
“Careful with that thing,” it cooed, eyeing Velm’s axe in my hand, “I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“Be gone, beast. Your reign of terror is over.”
The monster lunged toward me, its massive claws swinging for my neck. I tried to feint left, but its sheer size brought its other claw within range, raking across my leather coat. I stumbled forward as the thing charged me once more, but two arrows from Selene caught it in the shoulder as it reared back using its arms to protect itself. I could feel the warmth of blood as it leaked from my wounds. I rolled to the right, regaining my footing.
“Sure, you want to keep playing?” The monster teased in its lilting voice. I winced as the pain from my injuries settled into a dull ache. I had to end this quickly. I would not survive a battle of attrition. I noticed Selene crouched toward the stairs where we entered this profane place. As the monster charged again, I made a quick motion with my hands, forming a rune in the air.
With a final gesture, the rune dissipated into a wave of force that knocked the monster against a nearby wall. Hoping to press an advantage, I lunged toward it, Velm’s axe in hand. It tried to right itself, clearly dazed from the impact. Two more arrows pierced its side, before a large claw struck me in the side, plunging into my ribcage. Within seconds, the other claw caught me as well. I could feel blood start to pool in my mouth. It lifted me as it stood once more, a toothy grin monopolizing its face.
“Valiant effort, little one. But here is where the journey ends.”
I tried to form words, but I couldn’t. I could only hear the clang of Velm’s ax hitting the ground and the sick sloshing of blood below me. This was it. I had failed. It would finish me off here. I tried to form the words telling Selene to run, but they wouldn’t come. I could feel a chill run over me as my lifeforce leaked onto the ground. I saw the faces of Frode, Velm, my father, and all the others gazing at me through a vision of flame. I saw this demon that now held me magnified over one hundred times, tearing the world apart. Beyond all of it, I saw a woman as tall as a mountain, her skin a pale grey and her touch tender, smiling back at me through the smoke and ash, her yellow eyes sparking both lust and terror.
“I think she’s taken notice of you. May you be a worthy sacrifice,” the monster cooed, its beady black eyes trained on me.
“Go to hell,” I muttered, my vision blurry and fading. The monster grinned at me, its jaw expanding into a monstrous gaping maw. Its two sharp canines grew in length, moments away from plunging deep into my neck.
But before it could, the monster reeled back, wailing in pain, as it tossed me against a nearby wall. I tried to pull myself back. I knew I had cracked a few ribs at the very least. As I struggled to stand, all manner of skulls and bones greeted me, inviting me to join them. Whatever this place was, it needed to be destroyed. Every bit of it needed to burn.
I turned to see the monster bearing down on Selene, an arrow sticking out of its eye socket, thick black blood pouring down its face. She fired several more arrows into its side, but now, in a frenzied rage, the beast seemed numbed to the pain.
“I will peel your flesh from your bones and boil your brain and use your innards for my seasoning. Despara will torture your soul for centuries and use you as her plaything. No one will come and save you,” the beast bellowed.
I tried to pull myself up once more. Velm’s ax sat cast aside on the ground several feet ahead of me, amidst a pool of my blood. I began to draw a rune in the viscera. My head spun with pain, and my vision began to shift back and forth. As the creature unhooked its jaw like a snake bent on devouring Selene whole, I pressed my hand into the bloody rune. Energy pulsed through it, sending Velm’s axe flying towards the creature.
Selene stood tall, her bow at the ready, as the monster loomed over her. She would not be cowed by its demonic presence. In that moment, the beast then cocked its head before freezing in place. A sickly crack echoed as it toppled to the ground, Velm’s axe buried several inches into its skull.
I don’t remember much of what happened afterwards. By all accounts, I should have bled out down there. Selene managed to patch me up enough to get us back to Gaelheim. Before leaving, she made sure to burn that evil shrine in the hopes of purifying whatever heretical energies still existed there. In all honesty, it would be weeks before I recovered fully, yet through the haze of the campfire and then the extended bed rest, the name Despara sat in the recesses of my mind, like a worm digging its way in.