Trials Of Impending Night

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Book excerpt

Chapter 1 - New Year Revolt

Known by most, time and reality soared directly, with urgency, in order to reach an end, though the journey was infinite, therefore unceasing, as if a final destination paced in front of their stretching clutches, unreachable for the eternity. Existence span on a cycle yet flowed straight and narrow. Life, death – all that is comprehensible to the human mind unfolded as intended, leaving a great deal of mystery to skulk unwanted, outside of what is perceptible and conceivable. The famed cycle indeed moved by cosmic mechanisms, born from natural law, but alas, violent actions had been set in motion at the hands of those daring enough to peer past the curtains of all that was known, causing reality’s sequence to stagger and ultimately collapse unbeknownst to the world’s inhabitants, because of course, there was no way for them to detect such an imbalance, let alone understand it. Yewnin was knocking on a door no one should beg passage through, and with every day that passed with the Relic of Day at his side, his knocking grew louder and evermore with haste. An impending darkness was soon to swing the door right off its hinges, unleashing the merciless consequence of reality’s rupture. Even so, further tampering with ancient tools was set to occur, by all those unwillingly bound and affected by the Earth’s slow demise. With the short time humanity had left, it would take a boy to learn the truths of what is and what was – to understand, to relinquish, to overcome. However, before such conclusions could arise, all involved were to endure pain, sacrifice, and turmoil, more so than ever before – the trials that a dying reality had etched out for them were to be completed, for better or worse. Global collapse and the brink of extinction – how was a boy already cursed once before expected to fare in such a world? The answer was soon to be revealed for Greenwick in the coming years. Calamities aside, there is always a quiet before a storm. Nevertheless, the quiet in question was quaking and thunderous for the most part, which may put into perspective the scale of the storm that was to follow.

Chilly black nights, colourful paper lanterns, and a powerful smell of ale had turned the city of Filksolm into a welcoming hub for all who wished to celebrate the new year. It was a seemingly spectacular gathering for men and women from neighbouring kingdoms to join in merry rejoice, but there was something amiss regarding the morality of their festivities. The annual Dragon Showdown was a cultural norm for easterners. Tens of thousands would gather for what was deemed the event of the year, where excited spectators gazed in awe at the explosive battles between dragons to determine the name of the year to come, supposedly supplying those present with good luck and fortune. The year before saw the Tundran species victorious for the fourth year in a row, but savage Yimlams trained to kill from birth were making their debut, reeling in a larger audience than ever before. People had grown tiresome of the consecutive Tundran Years and yearned for a change in name, hoping desperately for the Year of the Yimlam. Yewnin's chaos through the past few cycles had been associated with the Tundran's constant success, so many believed that the dawn of a New Age would leave all evil behind. With such being the case, people's superstition and desire for entertainment had left them shrouded, allowing the reckless butchering of enslaved animals to be an unquestioned eastern tradition. Folks sung and danced through the streets on their way to the colosseum, dressed as their favourite species to show their support. A rather large Jevetin costume swung from side to side, concealing the chunky bear underneath, like a child draped in their quilts. A taller Greenwick walked by Moon's side accompanied by a more mature Lumni – now eighteen, close to leaving her teenage years behind, whilst Wick was barely halfway through his. The only things time supplied for the two of them was longer hair and shorter patience, though Wick was proud of the measly tuft of fluff that had begun sprouting from his chin and wished not to rush its delicate growth. As for Seffry, he was as grey as ever, simply sporting a heftier beard and darker bags under his eyes. The stress of looking after two young rebels had taken its toll on both his patience and his will to live, but he still took care of them nonetheless, ensuring that they stayed out of trouble, though there were a bevy of instances he wished he’d perhaps held back on kindness and hospitality. His adopted young would never admit it amidst his constant stressing, but they were forever grateful to be taken in by the worrying Wizard. “Out of all the places… Filksolm. I hate it here,” Seff scoffed. He looked ahead at the drunkards making fools of themselves over the sake of a calendar restarting. “It marks the dawn of new life. The year reborn, old man,” Lumni smiled. Wick laughed along whilst adjusting his Yimlam face mask. “This place is better than the place you took us last year, that's for sure,” Wick chuckled.

“Maybe for the two of you… but this is the last time I let you pick where we go. Besides, it took a whole week, three different modes of transport, and a worryingly large amount of my savings to get here when we could have just set off some of my spark bombs outside the house!” the moody Wizard moaned. “Savings? You can make gold coins with your hands!” Lumni reminded. As they walked, angry protesters covered in red jumped from behind a corner, holding wooden signs and flaming torches, screaming over the top of one another. Passers-by booed and spat at the nonconformists, finding their beliefs audacious and disrespectful towards their annual event. “Free the dragons!” one protestor screamed, which was met by a tackle to the ground by a bunch of city guards. Their wriggling bodies were dragged away from the public by the authorities, and their signs were snapped and trampled on by angry members of the community. The whole situation was rather abrupt and spontaneous, but the message was certainly powerful. “I believe wholeheartedly with those protestors. I can't believe the two of you want to watch dragons fight against their will,” Seff hissed. Both Wick and Lumni stayed silent as the old man continued to lecture. “Perhaps when you see these beasts die up close, you'll have second thoughts about this whole trip”. The two teens looked at each other subtly and continued their stroll towards the arena without a response. The deep banging of drums and screeching cheers increased in volume the closer they got, and the streets soon flooded with more and more eager people, making it difficult to move about. The bright flashes of fire seeped through cracks in the colosseum walls, met with admiration and applause from those dying to get inside before the final clash. Deathly howls shuddered through the wind as one dragon had presumably taken a heavy blow, only making everyone all the more curious of what was happening, thus the crowd of people had sped up their shuffling, and shoves and pushes had become more frequent, causing Seff, Wick, Lumni and the bear to follow the strong current. With the many bodies trawling quickly as one, it didn't take much longer for the four of them to reach the entrance, where the echoing tunnels sent roars and fiery heat past theirs and everyone else's ears, filling them with giddy excitement. “I'm choosing where we sit,” Seff announced.

“Why do you care where we watch? You'll just be reading your book anyway,” Wick whined.

“Well I don't want to sit near anyone who's going to jump out of their skin when they realise they're sat next to a bear… which would be everyone”.

“Well why don't you and Moon find a quiet spot right at the back, and I’ll take Wick closer to the action?” an enthusiastic Lumni suggested.

“And then you can read the… Grandiloquent Cosmographicum in peace,” the boy added, struggling to read the fancy handwriting on the book’s cover. The Wizard scowled at the suggestion but yearned for the solitude they offered. “I don't like the two of you being on your own at all,” he sighed.

“Come on now, Seff. I'm old enough to take care of him, and he's old enough to take care of himself!” she pressed. The old coot squeezed his finger and thumb against the bridge of his nose, clenching his eyes shut and shaking his head. “We meet by this entrance as soon as this is finished, do you understand? As soon as this is finished!” Seff reluctantly agreed. Wick and Lumni didn't waste time to thank him for his kindness and ran through the horde of men and women to get to the opening of the arena. The noise of both the audience and the dragons gushed into their heads loudly, leaving them in astonishment for a moment. The current battle was between a Bogahaggon and a Yimlam, which would decide who would continue to take on the unbeatable Tundran in the final match. Both dragons shook the ground with every step as fire and steam sprayed across the whole place, causing the majority of front row spectators to duck to the floor. Their chains and shackles restricted their movement slightly, but they still struck one another powerfully. Both their thick hides were torn and bloodied, indicating that a winner would soon arise. “Let's find where to go,” Wick prompted with a serious tone. “My pleasure,” Lumni replied, also suddenly more focused and serious.

Seff mumbled inaudibly to himself as he found a place to sit far from the action. “I'm sure Wick would think differently about this festival if it were bear versus bear,” he groaned to Moon whilst plopping his backside onto the floor and quickly turning to the correct page in his tatty tome. Moon slumped at his side, barely able to see through the layers of his costume as he shook and scratched in irritation. Seff sported a scowl as he tried his hardest to concentrate, but the loud cheers and gargling cries made it difficult for him to read. It didn't take long for him to mumble some more and practically stick his face right into the pages, rendering him unable to see anything outside of his book. This played in Moon's favour, as he planned to escape the boring man's clutches. Using the loud noises and the Wizard’s restricted vision, the bear sneakily plodded away, leaving Seff to unknowingly complain to himself for the next half an hour. To Moon's surprise, he was given no attention or concern because everyone he passed either had their eyes fixed on the fight or were too drunk to notice the bear paws sticking out the bottom of his drapes – all but one person at least. “Is that a bear?!” one inebriated man exclaimed to his mistress. She looked over and rolled her eyes. “No, it's a Jevetin costume, you dunce,” she spat to the man, followed by an eruption of laughter. Moon wasted no time to entertain the dunces and continued his hunt for Wick and Lumni, who were anything but enjoying the show. The two of them were nowhere near the seating areas and had infiltrated the private underground chambers where the dragons were being kept. “I can't believe Seff thought we'd actually want to be here to watch this massacre,” Lumni whispered whilst peering down a gloomy corridor. She beckoned Wick to follow her towards the source of whimpering noises. Their masks helped keep them inconspicuous as they scurried deeper into the complex, but the odd workman would stop to question them, which was practically a request to be knocked unconscious and stuffed into a dark corner. The two of them had reached a large locked door, too thick to barge open. “Now what?” Wick sighed.

“Use that fire blast Seff's been teaching you, obviously,” Lumni suggested sternly. He stood back slightly and thought for a moment before slowly focusing on his hand gestures. He took a deep breath and brushed his clenched index and middle fingers from the end of his forearm to the wrist, quickly swiping his hand outwards towards the door. Lumni shook her head in despair, hoping for an epic wave of flame. Instead, Wick barley blew out a spark from his palm, making him feel like a fool. He tried again and again more messily, but there was nothing more than a tiny candlelight-sized spray. “And that's exactly why I don't bother with that magic nonsense. It looks like more effort than what it's worth!” Lumni complained.

“I just need a bit more practice. I don't think my fingers are in the right place,” he explained.

“We can’t rely on your amateur tricks right now, Wick, nor do we have the time for you to practice”.

“Well how do you think we're going to get inside then?” Thankfully, Moon ran down the corridor with just half of his outfit left hanging on. “The bear will get us in,” Lumni smiled cleverly.

“They're going to hear this racket, I'm sure,” Wick warned.

“What choice do we have? Moon, knock a hole in that door!” Wick scrunched his face in grimace as the bear charged into the door like a clueless battering ram, cracking it and making an inevitable loud bang. He chewed and clawed his way through until there was a big enough hole for the three of them to enter. On the other side lay an abundance of different dragons varying in sizes and colour. They were chained up tightly, seeming uninterested in the intruders. “Glogspikes, Jevetins, Collisers, there's so many different ones!” Wick gawked.

“Don't get too close to them, not yet,” Lumni suggested. Moon looked back and sniffed. He let out a grunt which the other two took as a sign of wishful haste. Before long, a collection of curious voices made themselves known from the corridor, leaving Lumni and Wick with no choice but to execute the plan. “Those Fizzers you stole from Seff,” Lumni ordered. Wick nodded and dug through his bag, grabbing a handful of vials covered in thick cloth to avoid breakages on the trip, as well as to soften the clinking sounds, preventing Seff from ever hearing them as they travelled. He threw a handful of them to Lumni and kept the rest for himself, running over to the dragons’ shackles. They popped the cork lids off the potions, letting out a bubbly hiss as the liquid ate away at the restraints like acid, causing the creatures to startle. Soon, the hole in the door was filled with guards, clambering their way into the large room. “What are you doing?!” one of them yelled. Moon held off the small group whilst Wick and Lumni finished breaking the last of the chains. It didn't take long for dragons of all sizes to knock into each other as well as into walls due to their lack of space, initiating a chain reaction of panic. The three of them dived to the floor as wings and tails swung and scrapped the ground. The wind generated from the flapping was so strong it flung them from side to side slightly, until eventually, the largest of the Glogspikes crashed through the remainder of the broken door, allowing them all to escape frantically. “Let's go!” Lumni bellowed, leading the three of them behind the clumsy stream of fleeing drakes.