The Shadow of Black Rock

By John W Fort

Book 1 of The Forbidden Scroll series. A young boy growing up in a medieval world finds himself torn between the duties of his religious cast and a forbidden dragon that befriends him. The beast is nothing like the village elders have taught—acting more like friend than foe—yet to be found with it would mean expulsion from the village.

The boy discovers more questions than answers in his studies as an apprentice. His confusion deepens the more he visits the dragon that defies all his masters teach. The answers can only lie beyond the forbidden mountain that overshadows the village—Black Rock, the home of the beast itself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John W Fort
• Release date: Dec 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311970633

John W Fort

John W Fort is the author of three novels and one non-fiction book. He has an MST in Science Education, has lived in Brazil and speaks fluent Portuguese. John is notably hyperactive but manages to slow down just enough for others to communicate with him when absolutely necessary.

Book preview

The Shadow of

Black Rock

The Forbidden Scrolls: 1

John W. Fort

Smashwords Edition

copyright 2015, all rights reserved.

DEDICATION

To Sydney Six and Lucas Five,

My children and inpsiration to be a better man.

CONTENTS

Part I - Shadow Fall

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Part II -Secrets

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Part III -Apprentice

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Part IV -Youngling’s End

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

How to Help the Author

About the Author

Acknowledgements

About the Forbidden Scrolls

PART I - SHADOW FALL

CHAPTER 1

The shadow overhead loomed closer as Raef ran farther into the meadow. He was running away from the village, away from safety, but it had gotten between him and home, and there was nowhere else to run. The youngling’s dark locks swirled behind him as he tore through the open field. The blades slapped against his shoulders stinging and leaving tiny cuts up and down his slim arms. The grass was slowing him down; he could not outrun the foreboding creature.

A rush of wind from behind threw him face down, tumbling him head over heels before coming to rest on his stomach in the deep grass. He felt the darkness pass so close over him its chill blocked out the sun. He trembled, crouching in a ball and closing his eyes tight as if that would make it go away. He could not make himself look up. He felt the sun on his back and he knew the shadow had passed, but he still could not bring himself to look up. Was it going to come back?

Slowly, after what seemed an eternity, Raef opened his eyes and looked up. The grass around him blocked all but the sky above. He sat up on his knees, back to the village, and carefully peeked over the grass. In the distance, high up in the sky he caught a glimpse of a dark figure flying towards the distant mountains. He was not sure, but he thought it glanced back briefly at him before flapping its mammoth wings and shooting up into the sky, nearly out of sight. Raef watched it for a moment as it continued towards the dark, spiny mountains on the horizon.

Raef stood upright and looked down at himself. He was still breathing hard. His trousers were muddied and stained with grass. The tie straps, sewn to each side and knotted in front, had come undone. He tried to tie them together, but the result was insufficient. He would need his mother’s help. The lacing above his leather shoes that held his trouser legs to his calves and ankles was also coming undone. He held out his arms and saw tiny droplets of blood where the grass had cut him. He suddenly noticed the sting again and clasped his arms together across his chest holding his hands over the bloodied spots. He felt tears begin to well up in his eyes. He looked around and realized he had run nearly to the center of the meadow on the east end of the village. He worried he would be punished for being so far from home. He felt exposed surrounded only by an expanse of grass. His village was in the center of a vast forest of tall fir trees and he was not accustomed to being out in the open. He turned toward the village and began to run back along the trail he had cut through the meadow, holding his trousers by the waist so they would not fall down. He broke out of the meadow and ran down the dirt road that led to the northeastern edge of the village where he lived.

Raef was careful to stay on the flat space in the center of the road between the ruts so he wouldn’t stumble. It was late spring and the roads were no longer muddy so running was easy. He ran past rows of small dwellings, their dark timber frames outlining white washed walls of clay and stick, the roofs thatched with poles and grass. He felt the laces of his shoes come loose and his trousers began to flap around his ankles as he neared his family’s dwelling.

Raef rounded a corner and ran down the short path to his home. He hit the thin door with enough force to make it fly open and slam against the inside wall. His mother was at the center of the room stirring a pot that hung over the house fire. Raef ran to her and clung to her leg.

Momma, Momma! It was chasing me…and it nearly snatched me up!

Malta, his mother, paused and looked down at him. She was on the short side for an adult and almost always wore a kind smile. She lifted an eyebrow as she looked down at him. She did not look as alarmed as Raef thought she should be.

What was chasing you?

The dragon, he said, it was the dragon!

She put down the wooden spoon she held and reached down to pick him up.

Raef, my little story teller, no one has seen the…well, that monster in a very long time, not since before you were born, She tussled his hair, I think your imagination…

It was, it was!

His mother’s expression grew dark, and Raef could not read it.

Raef, what did you see, exactly?

It was flying! he said, It came down out of the sky when I was in the meadow. It chased me, but I fell down, so it didn’t get me, then it flew away, but it looked back at me again and…

You were out playing in the meadow?

Raef felt a slight panic, I…I…I was just at the edge. Not out in the big part. But then it came out of the sky and chased me way out there!

His mother looked confused Raef, Raef, she said, I have told you never to wander so far from home alone. I do not want you to be going out in the meadow.

Will Father be angry?

His mother put him down, put a hand to her chin, and looked off into the distance. Her eyes squinted slightly, and her face grew expressionless. Raef followed her eyes to see what she was looking at, but her gaze led only to the blank wall of the hut.

Just then his father walked in the door, coming home for the mid sun meal. Folor ducked to get under the doorway then stood, his head nearly brushing the ceiling joists. His inky hair hung down past his waist. Folor paused inside the door with a large smile and looked at Malta, then down at Raef. Raef’s mother did not seemed to notice Folor’s arrival. Raef saw his father’s smile fade.

Is something wrong? Folor asked his mother.

No, no, stammered his mother, taking her gaze off the wall and looking at her husband, well, Raef…he says he was chased by a dragon…out in the meadow.

A dragon? Folor asked.

Raef ran to his father’s feet, waving his arms as he talked.

I saw it, I saw it! It had big red fangs and black claws…

Raef, Folor cut him off, The dragon does not have red teeth. And where are your shirt and tunic? I will not have my own son running about the village half-dressed.

But, Father, it really did chase me! It was right over me, and its wings made a big wind an it knocked me down!

Folor looked down at Raef and squinted.

Folor, Raef’s mother said, "something scared him in the meadow."

Folor sighed and looked down at Raef. What did you really see?

Raef studied his father’s face. It looked stern, almost angry. Folor got very loud when he was angry.

Well, Raef said, it was like a big windy thing, and it knocked me over and…and…I couldn’t look up, but then I did, and it was flying away and…it was really big, Father!

Folor sighed again, hung his robe on the wall and walked around Raef to the table with slow, deliberate steps. He sat on one of the wooden benches putting both his arms on the table, banging them down harder than Raef thought he needed to. Raef watched his father’s arms flex and bulge through the tunic he wore.

No one has reported a sighting in seasons, said Folor speaking in the direction of the window. Raef was not sure to whom his father was speaking.

Besides, the dragon never ventures so near a village, continued Folor.

Raef was alone in the meadow, said Raef’s mother, He is small…easy prey. Perhaps…Folor do you think?

Malta, be sensible. After all this time why would...that beast come back? And why chase our son?

It has not been so long. Narra vanished just last moon cycle. You know, Serip’s daughter.

Folor did not look at Raef’s mother, but shook his head disbelievingly.

You know it was the dragon that took her, said Raef’s mother, We can’t keep letting Raef go off alone like that!

Folor sighed. He does that a lot, Raef thought. Then Folor looked over at Raef. He smiled a little, and Raef came up to his side. Even when his father was seated Raef did not even come up to his shoulder. Folor reached out and patted his head.

Malta, Raef will be fine. Narra had already fifteen seasons. She probably ran off with some greenling from another village. The dragon had nothing to do with that. Besides, I taught Raef how to take care of himself. He will be fine.

Folor, Raef has only six seasons! Malta turned briskly back to the fire and began to stir the pot hanging over it. The dragon did see him. I am sure of it now.

Malta, we cannot keep our son locked up in the house. We will not become one of those hysterical families that believe the dragon is hiding behind every rock.

At that Folor stood swiftly, walked to his bed against the far wall, and pulled the privacy curtain closed behind him with a swoosh. Raef saw his mother sigh, pull a towel from her sash, wrap it around the wire handle of the pot, and lift the kettle from the fire.

Raef, go wash up, the meal is ready. And put a shirt on at least.

Raef padded over to the washbasin that sat on a small table against the wall as his mother put the pot on the table. It smelled like lamb to Raef, and he didn’t like lamb much. He washed his hands and his arms to get the little bits of dried blood off. He was surprised that it no longer hurt. He wondered why his father did not believe he saw the dragon. Had it been real? Was he really safe? Raef was not quite sure.

✧

The water in the small pool stirred as if a breeze had blown over it, though the air was still and hot. The image of the small youngling washing his arms faded with the ripples, then the pool grew still as glass. Erif let out a sigh, stood slowly and stepped away from the pool. He had been crouching as he watched the scene play out in the water. He put his hands to his waist and bent backward, stretching his back until he felt it crack. Groaning, he ran his fingers through his short hair as he felt the sun warm his bare chest. The tattered remains of his trousers were insufficient for the straps of his boots to hold tight to his calves. The summer breeze blew the frayed edges of his sand-colored trousers about his legs.

Erif looked out over the dry, desolate island that was his new home. Hardly a tree in sight, only sand, dust and rock. He had thirty seasons and he found himself wondering how had his life come to this. He looked down at the temporary pool of water formed in a depression by a rare rainfall. He remembered the youngling in the vision.

He is doomed.

No, said the old spirit standing beside him.

Erif looked up into Zul’s gray eyes. The spirit had a snowy beard and hair that blew in the breeze. Zul’s face looked a bit worn and well tanned, but showed no frailty that one might expect of a being so ancient. Only the spirit’s threadbare and faded robe gave any sign of age.

You know what will happen to him, Erif said.

That is why I am asking you to save him.

You know I can’t defeat it.

Not alone, that is why I am here.

Zul moved closer to Erif and put a hand gently on the Warrior’s strong shoulder. Erif looked back at the pool of water where he had seen the vision.

We can go back now, said the old spirit.

Erif looked incredulously at the spirit.

You drug me all the way up this hill just to see this? Couldn’t you have shown me down on the beach?

Use the walk back to gather your courage.

Zul faded from sight. Erif shook his head and began the long walk back to his camp near the beach. The air was hot and the path dusty. The few trees on the horizon were stunted and haggard. This particular sun’s journey had actually been fairly pleasant before Zul had interrupted. Erif had managed to put his loneliness briefly out of his mind. But now this vision of doom reminded him of his own situation. This deserted island was the very image of hopelessness. He took a deep breath and walked taller. He would try to have hope. At least he wanted to have hope. He felt ready to follow the Great Spirit, even into this fanatical plan, but what could Erif do stranded out here on this island?

Erif’s attention was snapped back to the present at the sound of a faint scuff on the ground nearby. His hand instinctively went to the sword at his side. Half hidden behind a dry bush crouched a gray wolf. Erif saw other wolves in the distance. The closest wolf snarled at the sight of the man. The wolf turned when Erif began to draw his sword. As it slinked away, Erif could see the long scar on its side from the last time it tried to ambush him. The other wolves followed the first upwards into the higher hills. Erif sheathed his sword and muttered to himself. He looked down the long, winding path. He could scarcely see the beach where he had made his camp. He shook his head and slowly trudged on. Couldn’t Zul have chosen a closer spot to show him this vision?

✧

Ow! cried Raef, falling to the ground and grimacing as he held a toe he had snagged on a rock. His leather shoes were thin and did little to protect his feet against rocks. Damn the spirits! he muttered, trying out words he had heard older greenlings use.

The three younglings walking with him stopped suddenly and looked back at him. They had his seasons but wore hair cut above their ears, indicating they were the sons of Warriors.

You are not allowed to speak that! said Keever, as he walked back to Raef.

Your father is a Keeper, said Chaz, joining Keever to circle around Raef, You profane his name.

Be quiet, said Raef, still holding his big toe, I can speak what I want.

But, you are an Intercessor, said Liet, joining the circle.

So? said Raef, feeling his cheeks burning.

Intercessors are not to speak like that, said Chaz.

You do! Raef said.

We are Warriors, said Liet, reaching down and giving Raef’s long hair a sharp tug, "Warriors don’t