Darren || Darren

Sunday, August 6

Darren stared at the spot where Sam had hung.  One moment she had been there, eyes scanning the rocks, looking for another place to grab.  Now, she was gone.  She hadn’t even screamed.

After a second of stunned silence, Darren was snapped back to reality as Fiona, lying on her stomach, reaching down off the ledge, made a move for the edge.  He grabbed her, careful to keep his balance as he pulled her away from the edge.

“No.  No no no no.”  Her pleas tripped over themselves as she tried struggled to get to the edge as if she could somehow undo this.  Darren held her around the waist as she struggled.  He didn’t understand what she was trying to do.  Fiona couldn’t bring Sam back.  Nothing could bring Sam back.  His muscles sagged like they were made of sand and he almost let Fiona escape his grasp.  But he held her tight, pulling her away.  Her body convulsed with every rapid, shallow breath, but finally she went limp.  He sank to the path, sitting, holding her to him.

“Come back,” she said, voice thick.  “C-come back.”  Though she’d stopped fighting, her body shivered violently.  He could hear her weak cries over the wind, blowing her hair around her face.  Spurred by a sick fascination, he peered over the cliffside.  It stretched down hundreds of feet before disappearing into the darkening night.  How long had Sam fallen?  Long enough to grasp what was happening or had it all been a blur until-

He took in a sharp breath as a hot flash gripped his body and he pressed his face against the cool marble, dizzy.  He had to keep Fiona safe.  That’s all that mattered.  That’s all he could do right now.  Still shaking, he climbed to his feet.  Fiona’s tremors had stilled a bit.  Was she awake?  He didn’t test it.  Instead, he held her as gently as possible.

“Fos,” he whispered, summoning up some orbs.  Before moving, he took another glimpse at the world beyond the cliff.  The sun peered over the horizon, almost ready to sleep, spreading some glowing light over the rest of the land.  They stood at the highest point on this side of the mountains and he could see plains and forests and deserts stretching off infinitely into the darkness.

 It was the same beauty all three of them had enjoyed just an hour ago.  Now he didn’t think he could ever enjoy it again.

---

Darren couldn’t make eye contact with Sam’s stupid horse when he finally made it back to the clearing, carrying Fiona but otherwise alone.  Allyna didn’t mind at first, whinnying at the other horses and then coming over to investigate.  She stuck her head around the start of the narrow walkway and Darren let her as he set Fiona down on the mossy rocks by their bags.  It wasn’t until Allyna started walking up the path that Darren acted.

“She’s gone.”  His voice cracked and he didn’t try to stop it.  “She fell.  Stupid, climbed out on the cliff.  I didn’t stop her.”

Allyna made a noise like a scream if horses could scream.  She reared back and he didn’t try to soothe her.  Then she took off in a dead run, back down the mountain, maybe trying to find Sam’s body somewhere down there.  Darren didn’t follow her.  Just like he didn’t stop Sam.

He’d been too focused on his goal of getting to the Order and had forgotten his real directive.  He had forgotten the rare look of sincere urgency in Aaron’s eyes, when the young man had tracked him down before they left.

“Keep Fiona safe.  And don’t-” here he’d stopped, a wry grin on his face.  “Don’t third-wheel Sam too hard.  Look after both of them.”

Darren poked at the soot where the last night’s fire had burned.  The bat’s body still sat a few feet away.  It was almost exactly how they’d left it.

It was close to midnight by the time her Fiona’s opened.  There was a moment of enviable confusion on her face as her mind raced to remember how she’d ended up on the ground, when the sun had set, what had happened.  Then her face crumbled and she squeezed her eyes shut, curling into a ball.

“Is Sam ok?”  Her voice was muffled as she wrapped her arms around her face.

Darren had no answer for her.  “I…”  He tried, but the sentence lodged in his throat.  It had been easier to tell the horse.  “She fell.”  The two words were distinct from each other, barely connected as one thought.  “She died.”

“No.  No Darren, come on”  Fiona’s shook, threatening a torrent of emotion he was powerful to stop.  “Darren.  Please.”

“What do you want me to say?”  His voice was as much a pleas as hers.  She didn’t respond.  She just started crying and he stood up from the little rock he’d been sitting on.  He started pacing, as if a mild power walk could outpace her tears, his tears.  As if he could outpace Sam.

For a few minutes, he walked like this, aimless and meandering about the clearing, when he picked up a new sound.  Not wind nor sobs, but footsteps on gravel.  New footsteps.

He whipped around, brain scrambling for a spell.

“Fos!” he shouted.  “A-atrapi!”  The two spells discharged violently in a muddled explosion of light and electricity.

“Hudtarian,” a young girl’s voice shouted.  Amidst the flashing white light, a golden field expanded, absorbing light and lightning alike.

Darren squinted through the light, sunbursts in his eyes fading slowly.  He saw, through the fading blindspots, a girl approaching them, a bow fully outstretched.  Her nocked arrow was pointed not at him, but at Fiona.

“You were dead the moment you crossed our wards,” the girl said.  Her voice shook but Darren dropped his hands.  He could lose someone else.  “What business do you have in the Marble Cliffs?  What brings you to trespass on the lands of the Njoku Order?”

“The Njoku.”  Though the light in the clearing was dim, only cast by a solitary orb hovering by the girl’s face, he could identify her.  “Asha,” he whispered.  “I don’t understand.”

The girl lowered her bow, an odd look on her face.  “Master Darren,” she said.  “Master Freya, then?  Why didn’t you-  We would have cleared the way.”  She took a few steps closer, lowering her bow.  “Did you know about the trap?  Were you waiting for us?”

Fiona stirred at this, pushing herself to a sitting position.  Her matted hair stuck to her face, obscuring her puffy lids, the scrape across her cheek, the rage in her eyes.  “The trap?”

Asha stepped further into the clearing.  She waved her hand, summoning more light orbs until the little clearing was fully lit, bright as a fairy’s circle.  The hero’s round face was troubled.  “The trap… The pass.  Master Enchanter, you knew.”

Darren swayed, still squinting.  His head hurt and he just wanted to sleep.  “The pass?”

“We told you.”  Asha gasped then, her jaw shaking.  “The pass.  To stop trespassers.  We told you!”  She looked between them before her eyes fixed on some imaginary spot in the middle of the two CITs.  “Gods, there wasn’t someone else, right?”

“That’s intentional?”  Fiona crawled to her knees but failed to pull herself to her feet.  She remained on the ground, on hands and knees, like a wounded animal.  “That whole thing was some of- of trap?  Just to kill anyone who wandered too close?  This is the Njoku?  These are the fucking information gatherers?”  Fiona broke off, trying to catch her breath.  Her arms shook before collapsing under her and she fell face-first onto the rocks.  Darren stared at her, like she was something Echoterra had created, some foreign entity something removed from him.  “Why would you do that!”  The rocks did nothing to mute her scream as it echoed across the cliffs.

Asha’s face was now streaked with tears.  “But you knew.”  Her voice was a long moan and she held a hand to her forehead.  “You knew.  I was there when we told you.”  She took a few more steps toward him and Darren was struck by just how young she was.  Maybe thirteen or fourteen.  “Who was it?”

Darren just shook his head.  “We made a mistake.”  He held out his hands, helplessly.  His brain scrambled to find Sam’s name at camp and fell short.  “We made a mistake.”

Asha’s eyes held theirs for a moment before she took a deep breath.  “You have to come with me now.”  Her voice was choked and she turned from them quickly, down the path that had claimed Sam’s life.

Darren placed a hand on Fiona's shoulder.  “Fiona-” he jerked a head up at Asha’s retreating form.  “Freya.  Come on.”

“I don’t want to go.”  Fiona’s voice was muffled as she cried into her hands.  “I can’t go.”

“Masters.”  Asha’s voice was harsh and broken and when he looked back up at her, she was knocking another arrow.  “Come with me or die here.”

Darren couldn’t keep track of Asha’s wildly varying moods.  He just knew he had to get Fiona someplace safe.  So, for the second time that day, he hoisted the elven girl’s slender body into his arms.   “Lead the way.”

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They made their way across the ledgeway for the third time.  Every step Darren thought he might just lean against the cliff and sleep, or lean the other way and fall, but finally they made it to the fatal pass.

Asha stepped across, not even bothering to step where the actual ground was.  It was as though she were walking on air.

She turned back.  “You can walk across now.  It’s just invisible.”

Despite her assurance, Darren proceeded with caution, feeling every step in front of him and gripping Fiona tightly.  There was no sense in her seeing the spot where Sam had fallen.  He glanced down only once, at his feet planted on thin air, imaging he could see her broken body, down some thousand feet.

When he reached the other side, he let out a long breath.  “We just needed to tell you we were coming?”

Asha shook her head, something like pity or revilement on her face.  “We told you.”

The remaining journey was easy and blissfully short.  Their few orbs of light did little to relieve the emptiness of the night but they did reveal the path ahead.  

Finally they stood atop a large opening, almost at the top of the cliff, with an enormous tower at the edge, continuing up hundreds of feet.  He didn’t stop to look, didn’t stop to take it in.  He didn’t care.  He just followed Asha in through a large doorway.  The sights passed by in a peripheral blur as they walked through the building.  Eventually Asha deposited them in a room. She closed the door behind them and he didn’t try it to see if it was locked.  He just put Fiona down on the bed and then sat down next to her huddled body.  And after a moment of watching her, he finally lay down and let sleep envelop him.

---

Darren sat up in bed, a cold sweat soaking his clothes.  A few silent seconds passed, punctuated only by Fiona’s soft snores, as he tried to remember his surroundings, tried to remember where he was.  After a moment or two, it all crashed down on him and his body sagged.

Then another second passed and he realized what had woken him.

A woman, several years older than him, stood in the doorway.  Two, long, curved horns protruded from her tangle of curly blond hair, which framed a face of disappointment.  He’d seen Prism’s disappointment aimed at campers before, directed at an unmade bed or a messy bunk, but there was a clarity to it now, and he felt its sting harder than any of the children could have.  She gave him only a few seconds to wake up, before speaking.  “Master Enchanter, I need you to come with me.  It’s very important.”  Her scratchy voice, normally cheerful, was rife with urgency.

Every muscle begged him to return to bed as he struggled to his feet, eyes heavy and dark. Prism gave him a look, equal parts sympathetic but stern.  “Darren, we have to go.  Trust me,” she said, softly.

Darren just sighed.   Following Prism was another monotonous adventure through endless twists and turns.  Twenty four hours prior, he’d have given his left arm to be able to see the Njoku Order brought to life and explore it fully.  Now he just wanted to sleep until the day’s events had been undone.

Finally, as they reached a steep, cramped spiral staircase, smaller than any they’d climbed, Prism spoke.  “I haven’t told any of the heroes.  It was Cee’s idea and it’s incredibly important that no one know about this.”

Darren mumbled a promise not to tell.

She continued, “We aren’t the Supaya, we don’t have a kill first ask questions later mindset.  We are not the Daisan, we do not kill those who attempt to uncover our secrets.  We are not the Binnbael, who place defense so highly over gathering intellect...” the rest of her words passed through his ear as they descended the stairs, hardly registering, until she finished, “...that is to say, we would not guard our territory with a trap intended to kill.”

It took a few seconds but as her words began to permeate his ears, he struggled to quell the rising hope.

“If an individual has tried so hard and made it this far to reach us, we want to know why.  But it is imperative that they believe it would be fatal.  If someone were to risk death to find us, do you not think it would be wise to question them?”  Before he had a chance to answer, she stopped short, turning to face him.  “Enchanter, I must ask.  Who were you and Freya traveling with?  Asha mentioned a third.”

He froze, the simple question taking an eternity to register.  “F-Feng,” he finally said, unsure.

She drew a long, thin sword and held it up to his throat.  “You will comply or I will not hesitate to kill you, Enchanter.  Don’t think that I can’t.”

Darren froze.  He must have answered wrong.  If he died here…  What would happen to Fiona?  The others?  Before he could react, she had scratched his hand with her saber and pulled out a small vial.  She uncorked the lid and let a small drop land on his hand. 

 The two were still for a moment, in silent anticipation.  Darren didn’t move, unsure of what they were waiting for.  His hand stung from the scrape but nothing else happened.  Fortunately, this seemed to be exactly what Prism wanted.  She lowered her sword, a relieved look on her face.

“Why didn’t you tell Feng about the ledge?  You were to tell all the Masters to avoid it.”  She dropped her voice, despite them being alone.  “Did Cee tell you it was survivable?”

Darren shook his head, but he clung to the word.  ‘Survivable.’

Prism’s face relaxed.  “Did Feng just dart across before you could say anything?” Now her voice was cheerful, almost scolding.

“Uh, yeah.  I was trying to tell her not to.  Why didn’t you tell me?”  There was a lack of curiosity in his bewildered tone but Prism paid it little mind as she continued down the stairs.

“Security, of course.  The impassable ledge is usually where most people turn back.  It’s supposed to look passable, of course, but most don’t risk it and as far as anyone knows, it is impassable and will break if anyone tries to cross.  It would take some desperation for someone to try to cross that ledge.  That desperation is rare.  Learning a bit about why they risked their lives to reach us could have merit.”  She smiled, almost mischievously.  “The Daisan Order is not the only one proficient in illusions.  All are to continue to believe that the pass is deadly.  Do not tell them otherwise.  But Cee and I believe in learning from all available sources.  So, she placed an invisible platform twenty feet underneath and we both placed heavy illusions on the area.  We need people to believe it’s fatal.  It’s a matter of security... and reputation.”

“Feng’s still alive,” Darren finally asked, impatiently, when she had finished, almost cutting her off.  They had reached the bottom of the stairwell and now stood in a terrifyingly dark hallway.  Two doors were on both sides, and one at the end.  Darren was hyper-aware of how fast his heart was hammering, he could hear his breathing in his ears.  He could feel things behind him, lurking in the shadows.  He backed against a wall, hands pressing against the cold stone.  His heart beat louder and louder until he slid down the wall, covering his ears.  The darkness obscuring the true shape of the claustrophobic hall and the blackness swelling from the corners had a life of their own.  The walls were closer together at the top.  Too close.  Closing together faster and faster.

Prism walked to one of the doors, pulled out a key, and unlocked the door.  She looked back at Darren.

“Really?” she said, a tinkling laugh in her voice.  She waved a hand around him, muttering a chain of unintelligible words.  Instantly the feeling of dread lifted and he could breathe normally.  The hallway was nothing more than a dimly lit passage, no different from nearly every hallway.  “It’s just an Aura of Fear,” she said.  “Archaic but it helps our trespasser friends be a bit more honest with us.”

Darren, too impatient at the prospect of finding Sam to feel foolish, hurried to Prism’s side.  The door opened at a wave of her hand and Darren peered into the gloomy cell.

A figure sat inside, curled in a fetal position, facing the corner of the cell, forehead pressed against the wall.

Darren stepped in.  “Feng,” he choked out.  The figure turned her neck, a hand partially obscuring her face.  Her eyes, peering through her fingers, were wide and terrified.  She was battered and bruised, a large gash on one arm, and she was shaking, pale face tearstained.  But she was alive.

“D-Darren,” she stammered, choking on her own words.  “I don’t-I honestly d-don’t know what’s going on or where I am or wh-what h-happened…” she trailed off, taking a deep breath, trying, in vain, to calm down.  “I don’t know what’s g-going on.  I fell.”

Darren cleared the cramped cell in one stride, reaching out an arm to her.  She grasped it and he pulled her to her feet and into a hug.  He let out a shaky breath.  “Goddamnit, Feng.”

Sam was still shaking in the arms.

“Prism,” Darren said, asked, turning to face the High Master.  “Could you…”

Prism rolled her eyes.  “Lazy lazy,” she said, shaking her head.  “You helped craft the aura, it should be easy by now.”

Darren opened his mouth halfway, trying to think up a viable excuse, but Prism clearly didn’t care enough.  Just as she had done with Darren, she cleared the Aura of Fear from Sam, who let out a long breath of relief.

“Now” Prism said, clapping her hands together, “shall we go and put Freya’s mind at ease?”

---

Despite her exhaustion, Fiona was not having a restful sleep.  She was falling, falling in her dreams and nightmares, falling to endless depths, the terror of landing present but never realized.  She was approaching the ground, faster and faster, when she jerked awake from her sleep, sitting bolt upright in bed.

“Sam!” she screamed.  She was freezing, despite the fact that her face and hair were damp with sweat, and shaking, shaking so hard.  Across from her bed, Darren’s was empty, and she realized it had been him opening the door that had awoken her.  She buried her face in her hands, Sam’s final, frozen face still emblazoned on her eyelids.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.  Just come back.”

“Um, ok?”

Fiona buried her face in her pillow, muffling her sobs.  A hand, too light and small to be Darren’s touched her shaking shoulders.  “I’m sorry, Fiona.  I didn’t mean to scare you.  I-I shouldn’t have gone out, I…”

Fiona froze, the voice, the touch, finally registering.  She looked up between her fingers, wanting to look but afraid, afraid that it was just her imagination.  She reached a hand up, placing it over the one on her shoulder.

“Fiona I-”

Fiona couldn’t stop herself and turned to look.  In the dim light, she could see her.  Could see Sam.  The girl’s narrow, pointed face, dark almond eyes, that stupid stripe of orange hair.  It was so Sam, down to her inability to keep eye contact

“Sam,” Fiona whispered.  “Oh god.  Oh god.”

She pulled Sam tighter, hugging her, crying into her shoulder.  Sam just held her tightly, shaking, tearfully apologizing.  Darren sat on the edge of Fiona’s bed, wrapping an arm around both.

Fiona needed air.  She needed out of this cramped room.  “We need to- what the fuck Sam?  How?”  Small bits of laughter broke through her tears.

“We can step outside?”  A woman’s voice offered.  Fiona could hardly make out the women standing in the doorway, through her tears.

Fiona stumbled to her feet, still holding Sam tightly.  “Together.”

---

They didn’t stray far from the building.  No one wanted to get anywhere near the cliff’s edge.  One side of the tower continued straight down blending so effortlessly that you couldn’t tell where the cliff ended and the tower began.  On the other side, there was just an empty space.  The three sat, backs against the tower, over a hundred feet of solid, stable ground in front of them.  They faced the northern side of the cliffs, looking out over the mountains, dwarfing the cliff, eternal peaks, stretching as far as they could see.

Fiona sat with her arms wrapped around Sam.  Darren sat next to her, arms wrapped around both.  The whipping, air meant nothing to them, huddled together.  Sam had stammered a few times that she didn’t know what had happened or why her fall had been cut short so fast, but Fiona wasn’t interested in that right now.  For now she was safe.  For now, just for now, everything was alright.