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THE LURKING SHADOW Jabbz
The
Lurking Shadow – Part 1. Eorlan
hadn’t slept much in the past few weeks, as something had been bothering him in the
night when he slept. He woke up in a sweat breathing heavily once more and noticed his
wife looking at him, the lines of her face showing her worry as he smiled and tried to
reassure her that he was fine. “My
dear Eorlan, you cannot sleep?” Her voice was quiet, muffled slightly in her
tiredness. “I’m
fine. Just you rest my love for you have a big day tomorrow.” He
would not go back to sleep, not for the rest of the night as memories of the dream dogged
him persistently. The only problem was that he did not remember exactly what he was
dreaming about, as the details seemed to slip away the moment his eyes opened. But he
remembered the lingering sights and smells of a battlefield, of men elves and orcs as they
lay dead and wounded on the ground. He could remember hearing a voice calling him,
beckoning, and then feeling a sudden chill in the air making him feel cold to the core
– and yet he still woke up in a sweat. He
rose out of bed and gave his wife a gentle kiss before walking out from his room and
looking up at the night sky. The night was warm, warmer that usual and it made him feel
slightly uncomfortable as he walked out from his home in his tunic. He looked to his left
and he could see the moon sitting high in the sky, it was around midnight. There was
something different about the night sky, more of a reddish tinge to the darkness. “Evening
Captain Jabbz. Can’t sleep? I can definitely feel something is happening tonight
sir.” It was one of the guards on his way to begin patrols around the city’s
borders. Eorlan looked at the guard and gave him a glare as he was addressed as Jabbz as
it was not a name he particularly enjoyed being called. He watched as the guard continued
past after a short nod and he wondered whether or not they were all being haunted by the
same dreams, or if it was just him. He looked up again and felt the unease come upon him
again.
Yes, there is something amiss this night, of
that I am certain. The night sky has a red colouring; blood is being spilled on this
night. A thought struck him and he immediately raced off downwards towards the gates
and looked out over from the walls. *
* * Eorlan
remembered something back when he was just a young boy, running through the woods in
pursuit of a small wounded animal. He had fired an arrow and heard a cry of pain from the
animal, but he had not seen it go down. It was time to begin tracking, and Eorlan slowed
to a walk and found some tracks. He looked towards his father who was following closely
behind and waited for him to inspect the tracks. “Eorlan,
use your eyes. It is just behind that bush, can you not see?” His father had knelt
down next to him and pointed a little bit past the bushes where the head of a coney could
be seen peeking out ever so slightly. Eorlan ran as fast as he could to the dead animal
and dragged it out of the bushes, seeing an arrow pierce its side. “Well
done son, you have killed your first animal. Let’s take it home.” Eorlan looked
from his father to his little brother standing behind him and smiled. He grabbed a stick
and prodded the coney’s side to see if it moved, but saw only to his disappointment
the limp body. He prodded the coney again and again, trying to make it move and wake up. “Father?
I killed the coney. I killed it.” Eorlan’s felt sadness though the more he
thought about it. He had taken a life, a gentle innocent animal that had done no harm to
anyone. He turned back to the dead coney lying on the ground and felt pain as he saw the
arrow still in the coney’s side. He jabbed the coney more and more in a vain effort
to make the coney wake up. “Wake
up! Wake up! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you!” Eorlan knelt to the
ground and put his head up against the coney, trying to get close enough to hear a
heartbeat. There was none. Eorlan decided the continue prodding and jabbing the coney with
his stick, trying to force it to come to life. “Eorlan.
It is dead, let’s take it home.” His father spoke with a stern voice, ordering
his son to stop jabbing the coney. “Yeah,
come on Jabbers!” It was his little brother calling for him now, calling him Jabbers.
The story was passed on by his little brother until the entire town began to call him
Jabbz. And every time they did, Eorlan still had memories of the sweet little coney he
killed… *
* * There
was nothing there, just his fears playing with his mind. The guards looked up with
surprise as they heard a rush of footsteps approaching them from behind, swords at the
ready. Seeing it was their captain, they saluted and returned to watching their perimeter.
Little did they know that there was a dark shadow approaching, using the cover of darkness
to hide. Eorlan knew that there was nothing he could do this
night, and thusly decided that it was wise to return to bed. He made his way back, looking
up at the night sky at the formation of stars that were aligned above the town – they
were in the shape of an eye.
No, Sauron has been
defeated, the ring destroyed. There will be peace now, peace and joy and no more
heartache. I cannot stand to lose anyone else. Yet deep down inside he wondered if
indeed he was happy at this peace. He was a man of action, a man who had to be doing
something, anything at all to remain contented. He
entered his home again, as silently as he was able and went back to bed quietly. His wife
slept peacefully, the worry lines removed from her face as she breathed gently. Inhaling
and then exhaling. I could watch her all night
long, such a beautiful woman. Eorlan was indeed lucky to have a wife, as memories
flashed back to the very first time they had met as he lay next to his wife. He had
returned from battle, tired and bone weary as he rode with the few survivors of his
company back through the gates of Meduseld. She was standing just to the side as he rode
through, and she threw flower petals in front of him, cheering. As he led his troops
through the crowd he could not take his eyes off of her, his sweet Mendolin. She was a
good 10 years his junior, her long red hair flowing behind her as she followed him through
the paths of Meduseld. Yes, he had loved her even then.
Rest
up my sweet darling, do not let the worries of this man harm you. He
began to slowly stroke her hair as he just watched her chest move up and down as she
breathed. It took a short time but he eventually fell asleep, his hands still stroking his
beloved’s hair. The
Lurking Shadow – Part 2. Eorlan
opened his eyes and he knew that he was in another world.
I’m dreaming now. I recognise this place.
As
he looked around all he could see was mist – it was everywhere. He could feel the
mist clinging to him as he walked, making him feel damp and uncomfortable all over. He
could not feel the ground beneath him, he could not feel anything at all – he was
walking on air. Eorlan knew not where he was going, or whether he was going anywhere at
all, but he did know he was about to reach his destination – or it was going to reach
him. The
mist slowly peeled away and Eorlan could see the black clouds taking their place. The
atmosphere darkened, the humidity rose and Eorlan began sweating profusely. Eorlan knew
what was coming next, and yet he was still surprised at the pure hatred that filled his
very core as the voice boomed and reverberated around his head.
Thou art mine. Come to me! The voice was the same
as every other dream he had, saying the same words and giving him the same feelings of
fear and loathing. It was here and now that he would normally wake up, but something was
keeping him in this dark world. Suddenly
before him Eorlan saw lush grassy green plains and hills. The sky was black still, causing
a heavy rain to fall along with flashes of lightning and the clanging sounds of thunder.
Marching cries could be heard, war cries and the clanging of shield and spear as a massive
army approached and walked right through Eorlan.
He felt the anticipation of the battle, the clawing and scrambling of blood and the
longing to kill. It was important to him
suddenly, and it seemed that his eyes had been opened to the reality that was his inner
soul. Then in another moment Eorlan can see banners waving in the air bearing the name
‘Jabbz’ – This is my army. They fight and they die for me. This
is what it is like to be truly powerful. Then the voice spoke to him again, and the
visions of the army left his eyes and he was taken to a dark room. Eorlan
sat down in a large throne and slowly his eyes adjusted to the dark. To his left he saw
some cages – and inside of them prisoners. To his right he could see an empty chair,
presumably for his dear wife Mendolin, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Where are you my sweet? Where have you gone? Eorlan
could barely see in front of him, but he could slightly make out to each side of him two
massive guards wielding scimitars and dressed in blood red armour. On their backs was the
insignia painted in white of a small forked stick –
Jabbz?
This
is all mine, I hold the power here. He felt himself smiling, and he felt a rush of
heat flow through his body at the realisation that this could all be his, the power and
glory. Yes, it was enticing indeed, but it was not entirely important. He
knew that something else was out there, or more importantly someone else. Yes, there was
someone talking to him, and this someone had promised him the world. But he did not know
what the cost of his actions would come to. He felt something deep down inside of him, a
strength that had previously lay dormant inside of him slowly arise and awake while he
felt the hatred well up inside of him. Yes, he was getting closer to the source of the
dreams and visions. Eorlan saw the throne room that he was previously in disappear and
form black clouds. He could feel heat, a dry and oppressive heat as he looked around and
saw that he was standing merely a few feet from the tip of a very active volcano. Panic
struck Eorlan for just the barest of moments until he regained composure and deep down he
knew he would not suffer.
Thou
art mine. Come to me, search me out and you shall receive immense power.
The voice reverberated through his mind and he felt something else rise from within. He
felt power, and anger, and hatred. Oh, the hate flowed through him now, consuming his
heart like a fire consumes hay. Yes, he felt an inner strength arise and consume him, and
before he knew what he was doing Eorlan was pledging his fealty to this great being of
darkness. He knew what he had to do. He
awoke from his dreams and stared right into the eyes of his beloved wife Mendolin.
My sweet precious wife, I hope you can forgive me.
Eorlan
rose out of bed and packed some supplies, all the while being watched by his wife. “Where
are you going at this hour my love?” Her voice sounded sweet in his heart, but not
even her voice could quell his inner fire.
Come to
me. Come now. Eorlan could only look at his wife before heading out from his home
wondering whether or not he would ever return. |
