The Angel of Elydria (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 1) (16 page)

Hector looked down at his shoes, brushing the hair out of his eyes and gripping the tree trunk behind him for support. “I should like to avoid killing, if at all possible,” he explained, his voice monotone. “I’m sure the priestess will know what to do with it. I’ve no doubt this is one of the wraiths she spoke of. Now if we don’t get back this instant, I fear I shall collapse.”

Simon stared at him, and then pulled out his wand. “I can help with that―I figured this little trick out while tailing you two. It doesn’t go as fast as your beast, but it’s definitely better than walking,” Simon said, flourishing the wand. With a small crack, a shower of colored sparks combusted and a fluffy white substance began to form in the air. The puffy substance congealed until a cloud bobbed just a few feet away from Penny, big enough for the three of them to sit upon. Penny tested it with her hand and found it to be buoyant. She and Simon jumped on and helped Hector aboard.

“All right, here we go,” Simon announced. The cloud rose a few feet in the air, bucking and bouncing, and they all made a noise of surprise. “Sorry, I haven’t really got the hang of this thing yet―you’d better hold on to something,” he apologized.

“YOU SURVIVED...THANK HEAVEN,” the High Priestess beamed out from behind the sanctuary doorway at the three of them. Hector bowed his head and handed the pendant back to her.

“Madam Priestess,” Penny began, feeling shy and awkward, “I want to tell you how thankful I am, but I can’t express my gratitude in words. I owe you my life.”

The priestess laughed in a maternal way and ushered her into the sanctuary’s lofty entranceway with a supportive hand on Penny’s back. She latched the door behind her.

“Just to see you are safe, child, is good enough for me. There is no need to thank me,” she said, and then looked back to Simon. “And I see you’ve come back with a friend.” Simon waggled his fingers in a half-hearted, nervous wave.

Hector shot him a quick scowl. “Yes. We’ve been searching for him―for some time now. It is very fortunate we crossed paths,” he replied, staring at Simon.

“How fortunate, indeed,” the priestess said, a hint of doubt in her voice. She took them into a side corridor off the entry chamber.

“M-Madam, I’m afraid I have some upsetting news,” Hector began.

The High Priestess stiffened but turned with unwavering grace, waiting for him to continue. “It seems we might have run into one of the wraiths you described earlier,” Hector said.

Her expression sharpened. “What did you do when you found it?”

“I sealed it inside the ground. It shouldn’t be able to get out, but it was not harmed,” Hector assured her. The priestess’s expression softened and she breathed a sigh.

“Commendable decision, brother. Now I can properly send it on to the Dawn Mirror,” she said with a smile, touching his shoulder.

“What does that mean?” Simon interjected. She glanced at him, seeming to find humor in his outburst. Her deep gaze passed over each of their faces for a moment, as if sizing them up. She gave a little musing laugh that sounded more like a hum.

“Where did you say you came from, again?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Penny’s heart leapt. They glanced at one another and muttered some unintelligible sounds, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“As the province’s High Priestess, I have the ability to help lost souls find their way to the Dawn Mirror, or ‘spirit world’ as you might think of it. You might’ve even come across some wayward souls in the graveyard this evening, I presume? It is because a soul generally stays near its earthbound body for a certain period of time after dying.”

Penny thought of the pale, luminescent entities that drifted in the night sky. A meaningful glance from Hector told her he had made the same assumption.

“Mostly we just use this ability to help the lost ones make their way along to the Dawn Mirror when needed, and in some rare cases, help with a malevolent or disruptive soul. However, this ability can be used for another purpose, as well,” she confessed, her face growing taut, “to release wraiths from their misery. Many Ages ago, a discovery was made in a particular field of magic―nomamancy, to be exact.”

“Sorry, I failed out of school. Grew up on a farm―all that nonsense. Would you mind reminding me what nomamahhncy is, again?” Simon interrupted once more, and the priestess raised an eyebrow at his pronunciation.

“Noma
mancy
is the sacred art of name divination, or the manipulation of power over a name. It’s generally used by our Order for emotional healing and guidance,” the priestess told Simon, then continued on with what she was saying prior to his interruption. “However, three Ages ago, a very misguided nomamancer, Gilder the High Priestess of Trulle, began to study ways of misusing eidolorbes to try and capture the souls of the living or recently deceased against their will―” The priestess stopped, noting her audience’s look of confusion and sighed, seeming frustrated with having to explain simple, everyday concepts. The priestess reached inside her pocket pulled out a crystal orb attached to a long, silver chain.

“This is an eidolorbe. It’s a vessel for carrying souls. As I was saying, the misuse of these objects was discovered many hundreds of years ago. It is a twisted form of magic that abuses the very principles on which nomamancy is based. If one uses an eidolorbe to steal the name of a person, alive or recently deceased, one can take full control over the individual. The seizing of the name creates a schism between the body and soul, and the person’s body is transformed into something frightful―an abomination, which we call a wraith.”

“W-wait a moment,” Simon stuttered. “Do you mean to say that someone is going around ripping people’s souls out and turning them into monsters like that…
thing
from the graveyard?”

The priestess nodded and Simon’s skin took on a greenish coloration. “Sadder still, the wraith becomes an extension of the master, which means they can be fully manipulated to do whatever the master wills. Or simply be left to wander in unimaginable pain and rage,” she said, her voice heavy.

The idea that the horrific creature they had met in the graveyard had once been human sent an unshakable chill up Penny’s spine. She could not stop her mind from wandering back to the grisly images of the man in Hector’s drawing room window. She had no doubt that he too had been turned into a wraith, and the idea made tears well up in her eyes.

“Naturally, using this type of magic is strictly forbidden and shortly after its advent, it was extinguished by the good and gracious Lord Nestor. The teaching or study of this form of nomamancy is punishable by death in the Six High Nations and all the outlying countries, as well. Of course, every hundred years or so, someone will come along who’s able to figure out how to abuse nomamancy and will be able to create a wraith, but they are swiftly punished by their own deed. To steal the name of another living creature―this act breaks the psyche of a person, rendering them completely insane. He will be haunted by his own wickedness for the rest of his miserable life. What is so deeply troubling about the recent events in this region, is usually there is only a
single
person who creates a
single
wraith, and that’s the end of it.

“Over the past few months, hundreds of wraiths have been seen infesting the Nation of Men, and have even attacked and killed innocent people. It doesn’t make any sense how there could be
so
many of them.” The priestess looked sick with worry. “It would be impossible for any one person to create that many wraiths and still retain their sanity.” She took a harried breath and went on, her voice sounding thinner as she stared into the distance.

“I fear a very dark time is descending upon us. I thought the shortage of magic and the disappearance of the Angelic Lord would be the worst of it, but now we face the infestation of wraiths, as well. It feels as if the end-times are approaching…”

An oppressive air hung over their heads until the priestess shook off her cloud of gloom and faced them. “There’s nothing to be gained from worrying about it, though. Let’s not let these upsetting matters darken our hearts. I will take care of the wraith tonight―and you three best get to sleep. You’ll find fresh clothes, a comfortable bed, and a hot bath down that hall.” She gestured to a corridor across the chamber and turned, her lacy white robes fluttering as she exited, leaving Penny, Hector and Simon alone. The three exchanged troubled glances. They were silent until Penny dared to ask Hector the question that was weighing heavily on her mind.

“Hector, you don’t think―those monsters that attacked us that night at my house, and yours―you don’t think those could have been―”

“Penelope, I am afraid that is
exactly
what they were,” Hector replied, sounding queasy. He stared at his owns hands for a moment. “And I killed one,” he choked.

“Never mind that!” Simon squawked. “What were they doing on Earth? More importantly, we are all at risk for having our
souls
stolen! Does that not make you just a
touch
nervous?”

“Hey, we’re okay as long as no one knows our full names, remember?” Penny piped up with blazing certainty. “I even heard that Deimos guy tell the crowd not to tell anyone your full name.”

“Oh, of
course
. We can take his word for it, seeing as how he’s such a model citizen and all!” Simon retorted. Penny was about to shoot him a snide remark when Hector commanded order.

“Calm down. Bickering about this isn’t going to change anything. This affects all of us, so we might as well approach the problem in the most sensible manner possible.”

“And what might that be, Professor?” Simon challenged rudely.

Hector cleared his throat. “Thorough research and study. I should think that would be obvious,” he said and Penny rolled her eyes, aggravated
.
Hector glared back at the apparent discontent with his suggestion. “Well,
I’m
going to get some rest before I keel over, if it’s all the same to you.” He pushed past them and into the hall.

Just as the priestess described, all three found fresh robes that smelled fresh and were soft to the touch. A bath rejuvenated Penny after days of sleeping outdoors, but the hot water made her sleepy. After pulling the robe over her head, she bundled her clothes under her arm, stepped out into the chamber, and made her way down the corridor. Only a few dim gas lamps lit the long hallway, casting flickering gray shadows in every corner. For a moment the strangeness of the situation overwhelmed her, and loneliness held sway. Normally after being cooped up with people this long, Penny would have been going out of her mind and desperate for privacy. Shutting out the world for days on end always made her feel safe, yet now she somehow felt she would be more at ease in the company of others.

Looks like they already went to bed,
she thought, chewing on her fingernail as she tiptoed down the hall. She tried the door handle of the room closest to her and found a little chamber with two beds and a wardrobe. Moonlight cut in from the window and cast an eerie coldness into the room. She stepped in and sat down on the nearest bed.

Penny thought about lying down and letting sleep override her exhausted mind and body, but being all alone in the unfamiliar room made her feel too nervous to even try. Her mind was still plagued by images of the iron mask, waiting in the void she had come close to crossing into. More visions of deformed visages of wraiths whirred in her mind, and the potential of the masked entity visiting her in troubled dreams was enough to force her back onto her feet and out into the corridor. Penny closed the door behind her, feeling a knot of anxiety in her chest. She tried two more doors until she stumbled upon the room where Hector lay.

He was fast asleep in the bed nearest to the window. Glad to have avoided an awkward conversation, Penny crawled into the vacant bed, covered her head with blankets and pulled her knees to her chest. The coverlet was scratchy and the mattress hard, but even a plank of wood would have been good enough for Penny on that night. She wondered what Hector would say when he woke to find her there.

I’ll just think of some excuse in the morning.
She sighed, feeling herself slipping away. A voice jarred her from her momentary comfort.