The Great Darkening (Epic of Haven Trilogy) by R.G. Triplett Page B
Authors: R.G. Triplett
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The unease of the moment tried to give birth to vengeance, for Lieutenant Marcum was a man of action, and he was ready to right whatever wrongs had just been committed upon his men. But he knew what kind of cost would accompany such revenge, and he refused to let this insignificant uprising from those outside the wall rob the peace of those who were safe here inside it.
“Citizens of Haven!” he shouted with a little too much feigned confidence. “Be not afraid! Though the outliers grow bolder with each passing day, they will never succeed in their feeble attempts to rise against the great and shining city of Haven! Now I urge you to pray to the THREE who is SEVEN and ask him for justice for our fallen men, and I pray you then honor their sacrifice for your safety by finishing your business here with a sensible measure of order.”
Despite his brave words, anyone could see that the lieutenant was obviously unnerved, and it was as if his uneasiness had become contagious to all who were present. People began dispersing slowly, whispering in fearful groups while they tried to appear focused on their assignments.
Some of the cavalrymen approached Dreamer and helped the wounded warrior off of her back, carrying him gingerly towards the healers who were fast approaching. The apprentice groomsmen were dismissed to carry out their tasks, but as they began to lead the horses away, Cal saw it again.
Oh no, please not now , he thought urgently. Not with all these people here .
He tried to will the vision away with the sheer force of his thoughts, but he could control it no more than every other time before. Just as both horse and groomsman were passing the line of frightened people waiting for their rations, the nightmare happened all over again.
Descending in the sky from high above the timber carts, Cal saw a huge, dark-feathered Owele appear to come out of nowhere. It swooped down directly towards Cal, and before the incredulous groomsman could have time to react, the Owele fiercely clawed at the face of Dreamer.
Cal was frozen, partly from fear of the razor-like talons and the unexpected surprise of the violent bird, but mostly because whatever magic the Owele had on him would not allow him to move a single muscle.
To his great horror, Dreamer reared up violently in response to the flesh-ripping attack of the dark Owele on her soft face. She screamed in pain and kicked with what little remaining energy was left in her tired legs, barely missing the head of the frozen groomsman. She bucked wild, pummeling the nearby Priests with her flailing hooves, sending them tumbling into the team of oxen, and spooking the beasts of burden into a reckless stampede. Cal realized that the Owele was more than just a frightening vision, for the monstrous bird of prey was wreaking havoc upon his life in the here and now.
The timber flew from the cart, crashing into the bodies of the slow-responding onlookers. A shopkeeper with his back turned to the incident was plowed into by the runaway oxcart, and the wood rations were sent scattered in a wave of chaos all over the square, causing a riot of people fighting to claim ownership of the mess of timber.
In the middle of this storm of wood and blood and screaming horses, Cal stood frozen in time, like one of the granite statues in the great garden. He was locked in the magic of the Owele, who had settled without notice atop the roof of one of the taverns.
People were fighting each other over the remains of wood as the wounded and bleeding Dreamer ran screaming down one of the city’s back roads. Others began to tend to the fallen citizens, helping them to their feet and bandaging their cuts and bruises, but all of this seemed to move in slow motion to Cal. His heart was breaking over the carnage, but his body had turned to stone and he could do nothing but stare, his eyes locked in an unwavering hold with the violet eyes of the unseen, perched assailant.
The other groomsmen
The unease of the moment tried to give birth to vengeance, for Lieutenant Marcum was a man of action, and he was ready to right whatever wrongs had just been committed upon his men. But he knew what kind of cost would accompany such revenge, and he refused to let this insignificant uprising from those outside the wall rob the peace of those who were safe here inside it.
“Citizens of Haven!” he shouted with a little too much feigned confidence. “Be not afraid! Though the outliers grow bolder with each passing day, they will never succeed in their feeble attempts to rise against the great and shining city of Haven! Now I urge you to pray to the THREE who is SEVEN and ask him for justice for our fallen men, and I pray you then honor their sacrifice for your safety by finishing your business here with a sensible measure of order.”
Despite his brave words, anyone could see that the lieutenant was obviously unnerved, and it was as if his uneasiness had become contagious to all who were present. People began dispersing slowly, whispering in fearful groups while they tried to appear focused on their assignments.
Some of the cavalrymen approached Dreamer and helped the wounded warrior off of her back, carrying him gingerly towards the healers who were fast approaching. The apprentice groomsmen were dismissed to carry out their tasks, but as they began to lead the horses away, Cal saw it again.
Oh no, please not now , he thought urgently. Not with all these people here .
He tried to will the vision away with the sheer force of his thoughts, but he could control it no more than every other time before. Just as both horse and groomsman were passing the line of frightened people waiting for their rations, the nightmare happened all over again.
Descending in the sky from high above the timber carts, Cal saw a huge, dark-feathered Owele appear to come out of nowhere. It swooped down directly towards Cal, and before the incredulous groomsman could have time to react, the Owele fiercely clawed at the face of Dreamer.
Cal was frozen, partly from fear of the razor-like talons and the unexpected surprise of the violent bird, but mostly because whatever magic the Owele had on him would not allow him to move a single muscle.
To his great horror, Dreamer reared up violently in response to the flesh-ripping attack of the dark Owele on her soft face. She screamed in pain and kicked with what little remaining energy was left in her tired legs, barely missing the head of the frozen groomsman. She bucked wild, pummeling the nearby Priests with her flailing hooves, sending them tumbling into the team of oxen, and spooking the beasts of burden into a reckless stampede. Cal realized that the Owele was more than just a frightening vision, for the monstrous bird of prey was wreaking havoc upon his life in the here and now.
The timber flew from the cart, crashing into the bodies of the slow-responding onlookers. A shopkeeper with his back turned to the incident was plowed into by the runaway oxcart, and the wood rations were sent scattered in a wave of chaos all over the square, causing a riot of people fighting to claim ownership of the mess of timber.
In the middle of this storm of wood and blood and screaming horses, Cal stood frozen in time, like one of the granite statues in the great garden. He was locked in the magic of the Owele, who had settled without notice atop the roof of one of the taverns.
People were fighting each other over the remains of wood as the wounded and bleeding Dreamer ran screaming down one of the city’s back roads. Others began to tend to the fallen citizens, helping them to their feet and bandaging their cuts and bruises, but all of this seemed to move in slow motion to Cal. His heart was breaking over the carnage, but his body had turned to stone and he could do nothing but stare, his eyes locked in an unwavering hold with the violet eyes of the unseen, perched assailant.
The other groomsmen
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