Where Darkness Treads: Book Two—Of Tears & Darkness

At long last, the day's events had settled down, allowing Changa time to recount and render current the written record of what had happened during this last week. If he had not participated in those events, he would've never believed they had occurred. Yes—it was true, sometimes life itself was stranger than one's dreams. Some memories of those events, the Wind Walker knew would return to haunt him repeatedly in the future. Through the open window to Changa's room, the sounds of booted feet echoed; guards making their rounds during the quiet night. A gentle breeze, which hinted of sweet, spicy, fragrant flowers and the sea, momentarily held him in its cool pleasant embrace. Ever since their little pocket force had blundered into the midst of the Chand's forces, life had dramatically taken a change for the good. Even so, the Centaur still struggled to put their past perils behind him, as he listened for any hint of danger in the night, outside his room. As Changa sat there upon his padded bench, he studied the newly healed scars upon his left forearm, as he ran his right thumb over the pale white lines. The fight to free Donovan from the insidious curse, which had chained a Demon to his brother's life-force had left reminders inside and out. Memories ebbed and flowed within his mind, as he recalled how he had felt, as Tenasae spoke within his mind, and began to guide him in combating his formidable adversary. He would never forget the joy of learning from master how to use his powers. It had strengthened him and humbled him at the same time. "Changa, this task you've accepted to save Prince Donovan's life, would be too much for your undeveloped powers and skills. The threat of destruction of your mind, body, and soul is very real," "At times, during a Wind Walker's training, it is necessary for the teacher to immerse his mind and spirit within his student's form. Through such melding I impart knowledge through instruction, and giving sound advice, as to strategies to combat you may use to defeat your enemy," Tenasae said within the young Wind Walkers' mind. "Let us begin. Become the Great Bear!" So, it began. Changa had felt his form and power expand, as he appeared in the dark realm, where his enemy feasted on Donovan's diminishing life. He advanced toward the dark entity, determined to end its threat, knowing this fight would be to the death. "The foul beast is a Demon, and his name is Metefnore. Knowing his name gives you certain tactical advantages, and makes your attacks, both mental and physical, deadlier. Challenge him!" "Leave this place! You shall not touch my brother, with your foul flesh," Changa roared in anger. Within those words, power expanded, echoing like thunder, which made the stone upon which he stood, tremble. He could feel it fill his veins, coursing through his body, as he charged in to do battle. Thus, the battle unfolded between light and darkness, as two adversaries fought for the prize—Donovan's life. Fear, for his own life, had never entered Changa's mind; rage born out of determination to end this threat to his brother's life consumed the young Wind Walker. Tenasae patiently taught him ways to use his powers, which he never knew existed. As he fought the Demon, his flesh was rent by the beast's teeth and claws, yet he had cast a cloak of regeneration upon himself, which both numbed and healed his injuries. Onward, in the dim light, the Great Bear fought, seeking an avenue of attack, which would devastate his foe. The evil entity had attempted to stifle his mind, casting dark sorcerous spells upon him, attempting to suffocate his ability to think, when a powerful blow sent him rolling to the side. The Wind Walker in great bear form, shook his head from side to side, as he fought against the confusion and bouts of terror, which threatened to close upon his mind like a trap. The runes he had painted upon his flesh in moon paint, served to clear his mind. Power surged through his body, instantly replacing the growing exhaustion filling his being. Patiently, Changa waited for the right opening, while fighting to maintain supremacy. In a flash, Metefnore exposed a vulnerable area. "Attack him now, rip out his throat, and end this battle!" Changa had done as ordered, and he bore down on the Demon's throat, biting deeply into the tender scaled flesh, with his toothed jaws. The Wind Walker felt soft tissue, and muscles being ripped away, as his powerful bear form destroyed his foe. Immediately there was a bright purple flash of light, and a deafening peal of thunder, followed by his enemy collapsing on the ground, with a thud. "You've done well Changa, the darkness has been shown another Wind Walker has joined the forces of light. As in all battles, you must heal your injuries, and recover from the exhaustion, which is now filling your body. I will leave you now, rest my friend," Tenasae's calm words filled his mind as Changa tiredly walked over to where Donovan lay silently. Donovan's eyes were closed, as Changa slipped from bear form back into Centaur form. Urgently, he had knelt and grasped his friend and shook his body. "Donovan, it's alright now, I've defeated the evil which was destroying you. Donovan-" But, there was no answer, his friend had lain there, as if he were dead. He had bellowed at the darkness surrounding them, he would fight anything threatening his friend. Abruptly, exhaustion swept through the Wind Walker's body, consuming him. The last thing the Centaur remembered, was collapsing on his side, while holding his brother close. Two days later, Changa had awakened and agonized over Donovan's still form for another three days, while waiting to see any signs of life in his friend. When the Centaur had heard Donovan's voice, he was filled with mind-numbing relief, as he entered his room and stood at his side. Despite all odds, Prince Donovan survived, and it was because Elliana truly had blessed him, and because of his own undying friendship for his brother.  Despite a multitude of delays, endless pursuit by the enemy, and numerous attempts by Bemenah's dark forces to destroy them, their pocket force had managed to survive. Through the combined efforts of the alliance, they had prevailed and discovered old allies. They had lost Berren and Arthur, their deaths had shaken Changa, as they had been childhood friends. Donovan had taken their deaths heavier than most, wearing the grief of their loss around his neck as a weighty millstone. "Every person in the alliance is vitally important, and each has value. If everyone believes that, and holds to this belief, then our alliance will remain strong," Donovan had said. The wisdom in those words made Changa pause, for within them were simple, but powerful truths. Changa paused while contemplating what he wanted to write next. The light from the small oil lamp cast a soft golden light over the sheet of vellum on the oak writing desk before him. He pondered for a moment, and with a smile, dipped his quill in the inkwell and continued. Donovan was already changing into the leader, which Mankind and the Four Powers Alliance needed. To be a great leader, one must consider all under his command to be equally important. As his brother donned his new tasks and learned to serve as king. Changa watched and knew Elliana the Great Mother, was forging within his being the necessary strength and wisdom which was required. About them, an invisible storm raged, where the unfathomable powers of the Gods of light and darkness smote the heavens. Into this dark turmoil, mere mortals had been chosen to determine the fate of Aederan, their world. The nature of the war dictated nothing less than total commitment, for there would be no retreat. There was no safe hold or harbor, only the threat of certain death advancing across the land, which they must vanquish, or all would die. So much uncertainty swirled around all of them. Despite the best efforts of Bemenah's dark forces, the old alliance from long ago still prevailed. Let no man say hero's do not exist, and true power is only the imaginings of drink-sotted minds. Elliana had subtly altered many life paths, steering them onward to a hidden agenda. She had forged what was required, within those chosen for the quest. Let no man believe that all were chosen by mere chance. They had been chosen by Elliana, who already knew the dangers they would face. Changa didn't profess to understand all the details but recognized more than mere chance was involved. The Great Mother had created new pillars of power, and they were growing stronger by the day. Soon, the young Wind Walker and others would rise to challenge the evil darkness, which threatened the world. "What say you, Master of Darkness-you've desperately sought to destroy our small token force, and so far have failed? To what depths of depravity will you venture, to rend life and hope from all forces of the light? You now know Elliana is far wiser than you supposed, as she carefully moved her pieces in this complex game," Changa thought with great presence of mind. The Wind Walker listened once more to the gentle sighing of the wind, as he relived for a few more minutes what they had accomplished while bathed in the soft golden glow of the oil lamp. Quietly, Changa set down his quill to investigate the source of the breaking of brush that he had heard. Something dark danced in the shadows outside his window, which had caught the Centaur's eye. Uneasily he searched, feeling that they were being spied upon. The enemy was desperate to learn what was being planned. What form would such a spy take? He had talked to Donovan about his feelings, and found them justified by his father, and  Prince Donovan. Unfortunately, they were under the Chand's generous hospitality, they would have to wait until they left Chandria. Then it would be easier to rid themselves of the prying eyes of the enemy. Quietly, Changa stood and silently paced back and forth as he pondered their spy problem. He walked across the rug-covered floor, to stand before the window. Branches covered with pale-white blooms waved gently in the night air. As the Wind-Walker studied the courtyard below, he heard a small c***k of more brush among a small copse of shade trees. For a moment, he thought he saw a form vanish within the gloom. Though this was Chandria, Changa knew the enemy was silently probing and testing their defenses, They Would not be truly safe until they were out of this city and surrounded by their friends, the Dreena. Intently, the Centaur studied the area for some time, but saw, nor heard nothing more. They would act on the enemy soon enough. Changa longed to be home, on the Delware Plains, among his people. But he had forgotten, that was why he was here, he was fighting for his people's right to exist. Surrendering to his need to get some rest, the Wind-Walker strode over to his bed, and laid down to get some sleep. Changa slid into an uneasy sleep filled with shadow. He dreamed about Donovan and their small force fleeing amidst black twisted thorn trees, at night, pursued by menacing shadows.