From Shadows
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About this ebook
Zev Porter, a run of the mill Fortune Hunter, never expected to find magic during a simple job - to listen to an old woman's story. But stories hold magic, and upon completing the job, a piece of Ulterra's missing magic is released. There are more stories to save and more magic to release.
However, not everyone wants to save ma
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From Shadows - R.E. Journeys
Written by: R.E.Journeys
Cover art by: Natalia Jones
Published by R.E.Journeys Creations LLC
www.journeythruthepages.wordpress.com
Copyright © 2021 R.E.Journeys
All rights reserved
ISBN 978-1-7368547-1-6
To my parents – you are both the heroes of my story. Thank you for your support. I couldn’t have done this without you.
To all my pets, both past and present – thanks for being my companions while I worked on this. I couldn’t have done it without your support either.
Chapter 1
Hey kid, watch it!
I jump back to avoid being trampled by a horse-pulled wagon and its driver. Cold, dark water sprays me, staining my clothes. I shoot a death glare at the back of the driver’s head as he, and his wagon, disappear around a corner.
I sigh. I should’ve stayed in bed today. My stomach growls in protest of the thought, reminding me why I’m out here in the first place - food and rent aren’t free – and the only place for me to get a job is the Fortune Hunters Bureau, the FHB for short. I run my fingers through my now ruined hair and step out on to the uneven cobblestone street.
The leaves that dance by, a cold wind ushering them along, serve as a reminder of the changing seasons. The autumnal sky is gray, much like everything else around here. The people, the buildings, even the mid-day sun – everything is so monochromatic.
I stumble along the streets of Lummava, learning just how stiff I am from last night. I know one thing for sure – Zev Porter will never do that again. The icy wind picks up, further chilling the barren streets. I step into the plaza, the central focus of the town. This place is always so cold and desolate. The central fountain is cracked and in need of repair. The statue that crowns the fountain, missing its head and a wing, is all too metaphorical of my life. I too feel like I’m missing something, but I don’t seem to have the brains to figure out what it is.
The wind gusts and I wrap my jacket around me. I need warmer clothes, or a warmer climate. Thank gods I’m at the bureau now, the local FHB branch, and my second home.
The building stands tall, close to the end of town, and almost acts as a fortress – against what would be anyone’s guess. The cobblestone street here is the worst in town, thanks in part to the dirt path that starts at the edge of town, leading up to some long-abandoned hill.
I open the door and warmth rushes toward me. Laughter, yells, clanks, and the occasional snore, join together in a strange, but familiar symphony. I smirk.
I wander into the oil-lamp lit building, the door cutting off the howling wind. I step over a discarded helmet and weave around several chairs. A few muscular Fortune Hunters pass, their trays full of meats, cheese, breads, and ale. Mutters and shouts about work bounce off me as I walk deeper into the Grand Hall. It’s not an unusual sight to see the FHB full of people, and it’s certainly not unusual to get knocked on your hide before getting to a table. The weaving and dodging of members and discarded weapons and armor make for an interesting dance.
That really kicks my can!
a hearty, female voice shouts above the noise. They think they can do anything! Anything!
I’m glad someone is having a lively conversation.
That’s how the story goes,
a male responds, his voice ever monotonous.
But those poor people…
the female continues.
That’s the Shadow Dwellers for you,
the male answers, not acknowledging his partner’s change in mood. He’s used to it.
I make my way toward the voices. A fortune hunter, carrying a tray of breakfast, almost collides into me, distracted by someone’s new set of blades. I duck and spin, preventing him from spilling his food.
Usual sight is about right.
Hey, Nayfa. Hey, Klous,
I say as I approach the pair.
Hey, Zev,
they respond in unison.
What’s this I hear about the Shadow Dwellers?
I ask.
That SD King is at it again!
Nayfa slams her fist into the table, her salmon hair flying with the sudden motion. The SD King is threatening citizens who don’t join him and his goons.
Klous stares at me with steel gray eyes. He didn’t even flinch at Nayfa’s response.
The villagers refused to help the SD, so they were slaughtered and their village was burned,
Klous explains.
Which village?
I ask. For all I know my hometown, a fishing village, was destroyed overnight.
The one near Ephemeral Mine,
Nayfa crosses her arms.
Good, inland, not Marshiptan.
What do they want with the mine?
I prod.
They seem to be in search of a large quantity of quartz,
Klous continues, though with all of the precious gems that mine has, I don’t know why they are so fixated on quartz.
Beats me.
We’re heading down a dangerous path, so I change the subject. Well, I’ve got to find a new job soon or else…
You’ll be stuck rescuing Mittens again?
Nayfa nudges me in the gut and winks. You’ve got to be quicker on claiming a job, Zev.
The humiliation from rescuing Mittens turns to heat on my face. There weren’t many options left when I took the job yesterday. I figured it would be easy money and no one would see me. Ideal, since I fell twice and was mauled by Mittens when trying to reach the damn cat. Still, someone found out.
It can’t be that bad,
Klous says.
It’s just not my cup of tea,
I say. Actually, nothing is my cup of tea. I’m not a fan of the stuff. Nayfa laughs and Klous smirks as I walk away. It’s time to see what the board says.
The job board is more like a wall than a board. The wall is an eyesore with job postings hung like eclectic wallpaper. Every job imaginable can be found here. Well, that is if you are quick to grab one. A lot of jobs require teams, something I’m just not use to. Which means, slim pickings for me.
A familiar figure is near the wall observing the latest job postings.
Hey, Todd,
I nod.
Hey, Zev! Long time no see!
Todd’s booming voice responds.
He grasps my shoulder in a welcoming squeeze. I wince. I landed on that shoulder the first time I fell.
Looking for a new job?
I ask.
Yeah, I just got back from a body-guard mission. I was escorting a merchant from a few towns over. The route is always safe, but you know how squirrely those merchants can be,
he nudges me. What job are you looking for, Zev?
One that is not cat rescuing,
I respond. He lets out a hearty laugh, not that it’s funny.
Well, cats can be wild.
I know he’s not mocking me. It only sounds that way.
I sigh and shake my head. You fight wild animals, you travel, you don’t…rescue kittens. Look at all the scars you have.
Every scar has a story. I eye his most distinguishing scar. The slash starts at the corner of his right eye and stops mid-cheek. I vaguely remember him telling me how he got it.
He touches the scar and laughs, This ol’ thing? I got it from a pack of wolves. It’s not that interesting.
Not inter – a pack of wolves? Wasn’t it a…gob-something? The name is on the tip of my tongue.
Kittens can be like a pack of wolves sometimes.
He smiles and rips a paper off the wall. Well, I’ve gotta get this job registered and head out. Fortune up, Zev!
Todd turns and heads off toward the registration desk.
I watch him leave, my mind a million miles away from me. A revelation is coming, but my head throbs before I can realize what it is. I shake my head.
Let’s see…jobs, oh, here’s one: helping paint a fence. It’s a farmer from the next town over. I helped him once, if you call trampling his crops helpful. I probably shouldn’t go back there. Let’s see what else…another pet rescuing job. Pass.
That’s when the yellowed paper catches my eye. It beckons for me. The hand writing dancing across the page:
Come visit the house up on the hill, and hear my story, it may give you a chill. I am looking for one who can last the night, for everyone who tries dies in fright.
What a weird job description. The paper seems to have pieces torn from it, like other Fortune Hunters have accepted this job. Just how long has it been here?
Maybe I should take this job. Something in the pit of my stomach is telling me to be wary. But this might be my opportunity to do something different. Besides, I’m always up for a good story.
I rip the paper off the wall, like many others have done before me, and head for the registration desk.
A smiling red head with braided pigtails greets me. Her eyes sparkle when she sees the paper in my hand. Hey Zev, you got a job there?
she asks nodding at my hand.
Yep, here it is, Tiff,
I slam the paper on the counter. She looks at it and eyes me.
Seriously, Zev, you’re going to try this one?
she asks in disbelief.
Well, yeah. Think it’ll be too easy for me?
I smirk.
For the lazy Zev? Everything is too much work for you. This job has been failed by the best of the best, every time.
The nagging sensation I have grows. Maybe I shouldn’t take this job, but she’s waiting for a response - can’t back down now.
Well, it’s time for the worst of us to take a shot at it then. Besides, it’s pretty embarrassing that it’s still on the wall after all this time? I mean, talk about harming our reputation,
I feign concern. She twitches. Bingo, I’ve got her. She purses her lips and furrows her brow. I brace myself for what is going to happen next.
A loud noise sounds from the room behind the registration desk, scaring everyone stiff. My heart is racing. This is not what I expected.
Tiff puts on a fake, eerie smile. One moment please,
she turns and disappears behind the door. Markeen! Abram! What have I told you about playing around in here?
I’m glad I’m not on the receiving end of this, I’ve still got a bruise from the last time I crossed her. I hear some more thuds and shouts of fear come from the room. Her older brothers cause a lot of problems.
After some whimpers and promises to behave, Tiff returns to the desk, a smile still on her face. Sorry, Zev,
she continues smiling. Now let’s get you registered.
She goes through a binder, stamps a few things, and hands me a sheet of paper with the address of the client. Well, fortune up, Zev!
she says.
Then, a tiny explosion sounds from the room behind her, shaking the whole building. I look back at her, but she has already spun on her heel and is heading for the door. I run toward the exit. The bureau should still be here when I return. If I return.
I head for the main plaza, to kill some time and calm my nerves. I need something to get my mind off of Tiff’s anger, falling from trees, and the slaughtered village.
I enter Lummava’s plaza and encounter the familiar mid-afternoon site: apprentices scurrying around, running errands for their masters, and the usual mother and child, hurrying to the store. This is the busiest I’ve seen it in a while. Though, I’m sure this area was bustling with all sorts of life at some point. There was always something going on in the fountain plaza, and around town for that matter.
No, this is normal. There can’t be anything missing.
So, why don’t I believe that?
My head aches as I try to remember something long forgotten. I squint and wait for the pain to stop. Maybe I should just get this job started.
I make my way up the winding path from town. The brisk, autumn air chills right through me. I zip up my jacket to protect against the wind, wishing I would have brought something more. Instead, I focus on the job description, if only to distract myself from the weather.
Die in fright,
I say aloud. The wind gusts by and I shiver. It’s not possible to die in fright, is it?
Remnants of a past I don’t remember fade in and out of my mind. My head starts pounding. Thank gods I’m almost there.
The hill flattens out as I stop at a wrought iron fence. The gate, covered in dead vines and leaves, has seen better days. I look out over the sun set, searching for a reason to turn around and leave.
The sun paints the depressing landscape below in a murky orange. Fear washes over me. It’s as if this is the last time I’m going to see the sunset. I force the feeling from me and turn back to the gate. I can’t retreat, not this early in the job.
The gate, while chained, has a gap large enough for someone to squeeze through. I push through and get a good view of the grand house before me. Well, it was grand in its heyday. Like the plants readying for winter, the manor appears to be dead and dry.
The foliage in the courtyard looks invented, like an artist’s model of real life. The trees appear fragile and I hazard to guess if I were to touch a leaf, it would crumble to dust. The bushes and flowers are no better off. It’s almost like something sucked the very life out of them, leaving nothing but a husk.
I walk past a fountain, the central feature to this courtyard. The stone pedestal in the center sags to the side, mirroring the decayed foliage around it. Fountains can’t wither. I steady my breathing. This job description has gotten into my head.
I reach the front door and I’m greeted by two empty plaque door knockers. Something was on them at one time but has long since taken flight out of here.
I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
I grab a ring and knock, the sound reverberating throughout the courtyard. I shudder and look around. The noise stops and complete silence screams around me. Nothing, I’m just on edge, that’s all. I let out a sigh of relief.
A gust of wind sweeps through the courtyard, catching fallen leaves and debris. The gale pounds into me, the dry leaves and twigs scraping and slicing me as the cyclone continues. I forgo an invitation and rush in, away from the wind.
I race through the hall, the wind following close behind. Grayed out paintings and other furniture blur by in my frantic flee. A set of doors appears at the end of the hall and I sprint for it.
The sense of decay grows as I approach the room, the hall becoming darker and more ominous. I push through the double doors, slamming them shut behind me. The wind howls and retreats, slamming the front door behind it.
I let go of a breath I didn’t know I was holding and turn around. I’m ready to face the next challenge in this grotesque house of horrors. I wait for my eyes to adjust to the darker room. Oil lamps line the wall, but it seems no one has bothered to light them in quite some time.
The room appears to be a grand sitting room. Well, a grotesque sitting room now. To my right there is a bookshelf the size of the wall. There are still some books on it, though most are rotted or torn. The floor is littered with pages and covers, discarded like garbage. There are some chairs and a table in front of the wall, dust and cobwebs covering the surfaces. If this is some practical joke a Fortune Hunter is pulling, they really went all out.
Across from the door are two columns. They appear tired and ready to succumb to the weight of the upper floor. Past the columns, there is a glass wall, with French doors. Surprisingly, the glass is still intact, though it is gritty and melting to the bottom of the pane. Out of the grime-covered windows stand four pedestals. The grey and decay seems to be emanating from them. I would laugh at myself for the thought if I wasn’t so dumbstruck by the state of neglect this manor is in. No one can possibly-
Hello? Is there someone there?
I jump and look toward the two high back chairs on the other side of the room. The soft glow of the fireplace illuminates the chairs in a gentle orange.
I open my mouth, but words fail me.
Is anybody there?
the raspy voice calls out again.
I-I-I’m Zev Porter, ma’am, I’m here from the Fortune Hunter’s Bureau. We got your request…
and what? I’m here to see if I can die in fright? I do believe it’s possible now. There is so much about this place that creeps me out.
I saunter over to a frail, old woman sitting in the chair furthest from the door.
Please sit down, Zev,
she smiles an almost toothless grin.
I obey, keeping my eyes on the woman. Her mousy, gray hair is pulled back in a bun and the wrinkles on her face are deep set. She looks at me through half closed eyes. Despite this, her fierce blue eyes pin me in place. They’re sharp, intelligent, and aware of my every move. Something’s not right. My senses scream to run while I still can. Despite this, I sit back in the chair.
You’re here because of the job request?
she wheezes. I nod my head.
That’s good. Before I begin, can I offer you some tea?
She raises a shaky arm.
I wouldn’t want to be an inconvenience ma’am,
I respond.
It’s no trouble, dear,
she says, gesturing again at the small side table between us.
Impossible. Sitting there, with steam coming out of the spout, is a teapot accompanied by two cups on a tray. It takes everything in me to keep my face neutral. How did this get here?
Is something wrong, dear?
the old woman asks, eyeing me with those sharp, blue eyes.
I shut my jaw, cursing my inability to hide my fear.
Maybe someone came in while I was occupied with the old woman. That has to be it. There is no way she can live here by herself. Of course, there is no way she should live here at all.
Nothing,
I respond.
I’m glad my mouth is working – I would hate to miss out on screaming until my last breath.
The woman leans to pour tea for us. The teacup clatters on its plate as she pours the amber liquid from the pot. This is too creepy, even for my tastes. She stares at me in earnest as I sit with the teacup in my hand. The silence carries on until I realize what she is waiting for me to do. I smile and take a sip of the tea. It takes all of my energy not to gag as I swallow the hot liquid.
Well, shall we get started,
she asks, smiling.
I get comfortable for what will be the longest story of my life.
Long ago there was a ruling family. They were happy and treated their kingdom well. Because of their kindness and generosity, the land prospered and drew the most interesting of life from all corners of the realm.
Ok, this could be an interesting story.
There was a set of twins with a remarkable power. Together, they were able to predict the future. They came to the land to help the family continue their success and happiness. Then, maybe the twins would be able to find a little happiness of their own.
What does she mean by power
? Predict the future? There’s no such thing… My head throbs.
The twins came to the castle on a bright summer’s day, winter cloaks wrapped around them. They were careful to hide their appearance for fear of recognition, as their skills are so desired by kings of all types…Entered the throne room…
Did she skip something? Maybe my hearing is off.
Please you must understand!...What could have….You wouldn’t…The twins were desperate…
Something is wrong. My body goes numb and my head is throbbing worse than ever. The woman’s mouth is still moving, but I only hear bits and pieces of the story. What’s going on? I run through a catalogue of options.
Poison! She wouldn’t! She couldn’t! Of course, I didn’t see the tea appear, so poison is possible. I look at her to see if she is satisfied, but the woman stares at the cup in her hands, continuing her story. At least I think she is still talking. Everything is muffled now.
I try to get up and succeed, for a second. I fall, spilling the tea all over me. How could I have let this happen? I am normally more careful.
What’s worse, the woman hasn’t even acknowledged me.
Until…cooperate…dungeon…
Chapter 2
Oh my! How did you get in here?
a gentle voice asks. I try to open my eyes, but my head protests with its constant thumping.
"Who cares where he came from or how he got in, he must know a way out!" a different voice says.
I play dead a little longer to get a sense of my surroundings. Something sharp is poking my back and legs, much like hay. But I was just sitting in a chair. Also, there have been two female voices so far and they sound close. The first voice sounds pleasant, she might be willing to help me out of this situation. Of course, she might be the cold-blooded murderer in the room.
You know, we can tell you’re awake, so you might as well open your eyes.
I’m sure they are talking about me, but maybe she’s addressing someone else.
"Oh, he’s awake? That’s great! Maybe he can help us!" the lighter voice exclaims.
I open my eyes to a stone ceiling illuminated by natural light. Stone? That can’t be right. I was in a house before. I don’t recall any stone, especially on the ceiling. Also, it was dusk when I went to the manor.
Two heads pop in to my field of vision.
See, he’s awake,
the colder voice states.
It can’t be. They can’t be. I rub my eyes. The faces that stare at me remain the same.
Nope, I was right. The two women have light, lavender skin and pointed ears. My eyes widen as I have an epiphany.
Elves!
I shout.
I jump, almost knocking the two elves to the ground in the process. Spinning on my heel, I shout again, ELVES! But, you can’t…you don’t…
We can’t and don’t what?
giggles the lighter elf.
"Exist! You don’t exist! That’s impossible. Elves don’t exist in the world. They are only in…stories…" I trail off.
It couldn’t be, could it? The old woman, the tea with the poison, the story about a king, twins with a gift, now elves? This is making no sense,
I mutter. Am I hallucinating?
You’re making no sense. We should stay away from him,
the colder elf says.
Yes, I think you’re right,
the other says, nodding.
I pace back and forth. What could have happened? I have to be dreaming, right? I don’t remember the last time I dreamt, but I can’t recall being so nervous either, so this could very well be a dream. They always say you can do whatever you want in dreams, like flying or walking through walls.
That’s it!
I shout, startling the two elves who have been watching me the whole time.
A scan of the room leaves me with two ideas involving a tiny window and a strong door. A quick check out the window shows a far drop to the ground below. Should I try flying? My gut says it’s a bad idea, so I run over to the only door in the room. The small, barred window in the door reveals an empty hallway on the other side. Perfect.
There is a whisper and a giggle behind me as I take off running toward the solid, iron door.
*BANG*
I slam into the very solid door and hit the floor, writhing in pain. I shouldn’t have done that, especially because I went face first.
Are you alright?
the light elf laughs.
I remove my hands from my face to reveal the elf standing next to me. She has white wavy hair with pastel highlights mixed in. The blue dress she wears reveals her lavender coloring covers her legs as well.
A bit of disappointment flairs in me, maybe I really am somewhere else. But how? Why?
Here, let me help you up,
she says as she offers me her hand.
I hesitate.
They’re locked in here for a reason. They could have killed someone, or someones.
Besides, she’s an elf. I don’t know how I know the word, but that is what she is. There are no elves in Marshiptan or Lummava, and I’m pretty sure the rest of Ulterra.
She waits with her hand outstretched.
Uh, thanks,
I say confused.
I’m not sure what is bothering me more; how I got here, the fact that there are elves here, or that I am not dreaming. The pain in my head isn’t helping matters either.
You think that bump on the head calmed him down a little?
the other elf says with a smirk.
Opposed to the other elf, she has short, dark, lavender-grey hair with bangs and she wears an even darker dress. Dancing throughout the dress like torches in the night are orange flowers. The dress stops about mid-shin and has slits on either side up to her thigh. Tiff has one and she calls it a cheongsam or something. The slits reveal a pair of black, baggy pants that go down to her ankles. Maybe all elves are well dressed.
I clench my jaw when I realize what I was doing.
Tiff and Todd tried to teach me