Dark Soul Silenced - Parts One & Two: Dark Soul Chronicles, #1

By Simon Goodson

A hunted girl. A marked soul. Will he choose redemption or damnation?

Daniel can barely control his aching bloodlust. The newly-made vampire's diminishing humanity compels him to fight off the cravings and let sunlight incinerate his abominable flesh. But when the soft light of dawn takes his darkness instead, Daniel is left with incredible powers and no memory of who he used to be…

After helping a family fight off bandits, he discovers a girl with dark abilities of her own. In a world where magic is a death sentence, Daniel must help them ward off witchhunters while convincing his allies that he's regained his soul. But with their persecutors closing in, can the reformed vampire protect the magical girl or will his darker nature destroy them all?

Dark Soul Silenced is an epic fantasy crafted in a medieval world. If you like vampires with teeth, complicated characters, and evil with a twist, then you'll love Simon Goodson's imaginative saga.

Buy Dark Soul Silenced to tempt the darkness today! 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Simon Goodson
• Release date: Oct 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781910586167

Book preview

Dark Soul Silenced - Parts One & Two

Dark Soul Silenced - Parts One & Two

Simon Goodson

Dark Soul Publishing Ltd

Copyright © 2013 Simon Goodson

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

---

Cover image © 2013 Susan Mullan

First Published 27th March 2013.

Published by Dark Soul Publishing Ltd

10.018

---

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

www.simongoodson.com

Contents

Also by Simon Goodson

Get your free starter library…

Dark Soul Silenced - Part One

I. Awakening

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

II. The Journey

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

III. The Hunt

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Dark Soul Silenced - Part Two

I. Unfulfilled Plans

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

II. The Fall

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

III. The Hunt Resumes

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

IV. The Bronze Order

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

V. Echtberg

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

VI. The Temple

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

The Dark Soul Chronicles will continue…

Get your free starter library…

Also by Simon Goodson

Wanderer’s Odyssey

Wanderer's Escape

Wanderer - Echoes of the Past

Wanderer - Tainted Universe

Wanderer - Origins

---

Dark Soul Chronicles

Dark Soul Silenced - Part One

Dark Soul Silenced - Part Two

---

Short Story Collections

Last Sunrise & Other Stories

Tales From the Starflare Universe & Beyond

Grab your Simon Goodson Starter Library right now - just click this link to get four novels & six short stories absolutely free…

www.simongoodson.com/library

Get your free Simon Goodson Starter Library. Four books & Six short stories.

To the many people who made the launch of Dark Soul Silenced – Part One such a success. The friends and friends of friends who helped spread the word by Facebook and other means.

---

Thank you all.

Dark Soul Silenced - Part One

Part I

Awakening

Chapter 1

He sat waiting on the lonely beach. He sat waiting for the dawn. He sat waiting for his death.

The sky was already starting to lighten. He knew his vigil wouldn’t be a long one. As he waited he tried to pull his mind together, wanting to die as whole as possible.

His name… that was gone. Gone beyond recall. So were all his memories older than a week or so. He knew he’d once had a name, knew he’d had memories. He could feel the gaps where they’d been. So much was lost. The first thing he could remember, vaguely, was riding through a forest. He thought it was a week ago but it could easily be more, or less. Time was another thing he’d lost.

He remembered riding through the forest. He remembered a blur of movement to his side. He remembered being slammed out of the saddle…

Maybe he was knocked unconscious. Maybe his memories following that moment were gone. The next thing he remembered was being trussed up on the floor, with a group of rough looking men standing around him…

---

One of the men stepped forward. Their leader.

Well boys, he said. Looks like we’ve got a tough’n here. Riding the forest alone. He may be too tough for us. I reckon we should soften him up a bit.

The leader took another step closer, then kicked his victim in the stomach. The rest of the band joined in with shouts and curses.

---

Again… a gap in his memory, though for that he was thankful.

---

When he came to he was still lying on the floor. Every part of his body screamed in pain. His left eye was almost swollen shut. He was still tied up, though he doubted he could have moved let alone run off after the beating. Above him stood a figure. The leader, smiling down at him.

So you’re back with us again are ye? I told the boys you were tough. Well, we’ve had our fun. We’ve taken your horse, your sword, your money and your food. But we’ll leave you your life.

The leader turned away and for a moment a flicker of hope flared within. Maybe he would survive this after all. Suddenly the world lurched. He screamed in agony as he was lifted into the air by his bonds. He ended up hanging upside down, his head slightly above that of the leader.

The leader turned back with a nasty grin. Yep, we’ll leave your life. Leave it for the wolves. They get hungry you know!

The others laughed and jeered. The leader leaned in closer.

I’m not a cruel man, though. If you’re still alive in a few days we’ll come back for you. This time there was no hope. He waited for the twist he knew must be coming. We’ll come back and let you down a bit lower. So the wolves can reach you. Wouldn’t be fair to deprive them of a meal.

The others roared with laughter again. Then they were up and moving, leaving the clearing. Many landed a last punch to compound their victim’s pain.

The next set of memories were seared into his brain. The pain from the beating compounded by the pain of being tightly trussed up and hung upside down. It was soon clear that struggling wouldn’t loosen his bindings, it just brought more pain. Nevertheless from time to time he did struggle, the agony of his position forcing him to try something, anything, even when he knew it would just make things worse.

How long did he hang there? Days? Weeks? Months? It seemed far longer as he wept, screamed and raged against his fate. Yet it was only one day. One day that faded into evening and then night.

---

The moon was already up as night fell so he was spared the horror of hanging in the dark, wondering what was out there. It didn’t ease the pain, though. Nor did it make time pass any more quickly. When the wolves finally padded into the clearing, silent as ghosts and glowing eerily in the moonlight, it was almost a relief. Almost.

The wolves circled, sniffing him, studying him. His head was six or seven feet from the ground – easily within their reach if they jumped, he was sure. Before the first wolf could decide to leap a shadow fell over the clearing. The moon still shone but the clearing suddenly felt much darker. The effect on the wolves was startling. They crouched submissively, whining as they did so. Then they started to slink away, all casting nervous glances back as they left the glade.

---

Then his memories completely fragmented. He remembered that… something… came out of the darkness. The pain in his body faded, replaced by a relaxed sleepiness that made trying to think much too difficult to bother with. He was cut down, that he remembered, lowered like a small child to the floor. But he couldn’t picture who did it at all.

Then… warmth, safety, darkness. He’d felt safe from all harm. After that drinking, drinking something that burned as it went down his throat. Spirits of some kind. Finally darkness, true sleep.

Chapter 2

When he woke it was midday. Stretching gingerly he found only stiffness in his body – not the agony he expected. As far as he could tell he was in the same clearing, though the rope he’d been tied with was gone. He stood, then stretched again, noticing a few bruises that were already almost faded.

That made no sense. Had he been asleep for days? Had something sped his healing? He didn’t know and his memories of the night before, if it wasn’t longer, were slippery, impossible to hold on to. The blazing sun stabbing down and giving him a thumping headache wasn’t helping his attempts at thinking, and he was still exhausted. Shading his eyes he stumbled from the glade, searching for somewhere to rest. Even in the shade of the trees the light was too harsh for his eyes. He came to a fallen tree trunk with a small hollowed space underneath. Crawling in, he curled up with his back to the light and closed his eyes. Within seconds he was asleep.

He woke to darkness and a feeling of being smothered. Panicking, he sat up quickly, smacking his head on the trunk and falling back to the ground. Slightly dazed, he felt for what he’d hit. The tree’s rough bark reminded him of where he lay. This time he turned over carefully and crawled out, then looked around. The moon was shining but only a little light made it through the spreading branches of the trees. He stood for a while, head still throbbing where he’d banged it, thoughts coming slowly.

He knew he should be scared… or worried… or even angry – but he wasn’t. He felt strange, distant. The world around him felt… not dreamlike exactly… but separate. He felt out of step with everything around him, even with his own body.

After standing for a time, he had no idea how long, something stirred inside. An appetite. A thirst. Both, yet not quite either. He started walking. He had no direction in mind, just a need to keep moving.

He walked and walked, still with no direction in mind. Walking through a forest could became repetitive enough normally. Doing so on a dim night, when very little detail could be made out, was doubly so. Wolves, bears, bogs and holes… all could be deadly when walking a forest at night… but he didn’t care. Somehow he felt sure nothing would harm him, though he had nothing to base that feeling on.

He walked until the pre-dawn light started to hurt his eyes. From the lightening of the sky he knew he was walking eastwards, towards the sunrise, though he had no idea if he had been going round in circles the rest of the night. Once again he sought shelter from the bright daylight. This time he found a small hollow filled with leaves. Bushes surrounded and covered it. Burrowing down into the leaves to get comfortable, he was asleep within a minute.

He woke to night again, and walked all night in the same trance like state as the night before. As dawn approached he sought shelter from the rising sun then fell into a deep sleep again. The next two nights followed the same pattern. Nothing changing, except that the not quite hunger and not quite thirst grew steadily stronger.

He drank a little from streams, but the water just made him feel queasy. The thought of food almost made him retch. The ache in his head remained and his thoughts stayed sluggish. Once or twice he wondered if the beating he’d taken had cracked his skull. Such worries were fleeting. The thoughts soon slipped away, replaced by the mindless wandering.

One thing he did notice was that the moonlight was brighter each night, or the covering of leaves less, as with each new night he was able to see more clearly than the night before.

Things changed the next day. Sometime mid-morning he woke, screaming in agony, pain burning through his left hand. He snatched it close, seeing smoke rise from it as he squinted against the bright daylight. The pain faded quickly as he tried to work out what had burnt him. He was crouched by the base of a huge fallen tree, in the depression left when its roots were torn out of the ground. There was no fire nearby. There was no smell of smoke, other than the burnt flesh smell of his injured hand.

Tentatively he stretched out his other hand, snatching it back with a curse as it exploded in pain. The sun. It wasn’t just affecting his eyes, it hurt his body too. For a moment fear gripped his soul. What was happening to him? What was wrong with him? But then the warm sluggishness spread through his mind again driving away all worry.

A little experimenting with his legs confirmed the sun wasn’t suddenly much hotter than before. His boots and trousers were fine, as were his legs as long as they remained covered. His skin though… it started to burn the moment the sun touched it. Squinting against the light he shifted around the tree’s roots, trying to find a safe position to lay where the sun wouldn’t find his skin. Within moments he dropped back into a deep sleep.

Twice more that day he woke in agony, woke to find flesh burning and smoking. Each time he managed to squeeze into a new position, one that shielded him from the sun’s rays… for a while at least. Leaving the shelter of the fallen tree and its roots was out of the question. He only had boots, trousers and a vest left, and the nearest shade was twenty feet away at least. He was sure he wouldn’t make it without being crippled by the sun, most probably stuck partway to shelter as the sun beat down and turned his body to charcoal.

Despite the severity of the burns the pain quickly faded each time, and as soon as he found a new position safely out of the sunlight he fell straight back to sleep.

The next time he woke it was to moonlight. He breathed a deep sigh of relief, then quickly checked the burns… only to find they were gone. Had he imagined the agony, the burning? Had he dreamt it? No… the last burn, on the back of his right forearm, was still faintly visible when he checked carefully – but it was fading before his eyes. For a moment he felt dizzy, the world seemed to lurch below his feet. Just what was happening to him? As fast as the worry came it was pushed aside again, replaced by the warm, fuzzy feeling in his head. His fears withered and died and the hunger returned, stronger than ever. Once again he was driven to move, to walk, though still with no clear destination.

As the night faded to dawn he searched carefully, seeking better shelter from the sun than he had found the night before. He discovered a small cave in a north facing outcrop of rock and headed inside before once again crashing into a deep sleep. He hardly even noticed the large bear whose sleep he interrupted. He was asleep within moments. The bear stood, back pressed against the wall, for long minutes. Finally it moved, tentatively, watching him the whole time as it slunk past. Once it was past him it turned away and raced from the cave as if its fur was on fire.

The next night brought more changes. He’d been finding it easier to see each night but had put it down to the moon growing brighter or the tree cover thinning. Now the moon was hidden by thick clouds, yet the forest shone as if in full daylight. There was no avoiding the fact that it was his night vision that had become stronger and stronger.

Another, even more disturbing, change came over him during that night. He started to see the creatures around him. Not just as he saw the trees and rocks, bushes and ground. The creatures were different. They glowed from dull red to bright yellow, standing out clearly against the background of the forest.

The hunger had changed, too. It had grown stronger, as it had every night, but now it was also far more focused. It drove him towards the creatures he saw. Drove him to grab, tear and consume. It would be so easy. He focused his attention on an adult rabbit and it froze, letting him approach… reach out a hand… grab it… lift it to his mouth…

NO! The hoarse shout startled him, breaking the spell. The rabbit bit and clawed at his hands till it broke free. It took a few moments more for him to realise the voice had been his own, the shout had come from him. And it was right. The hunger was still burning strongly but something inside him resisted. Neither the hunger nor the resistance were strong enough to win out, so the struggle continued inside him and he did the only thing he could. He started walking again. With the spell broken the creatures of the forest fled at his approach, which he was glad of. For the moment.

Several times that night he was nearly overwhelmed by the hunger, dropping into a dreamlike state where he was hardly aware of what he was doing. Each time he managed to fight back before it was too late. The final time a squirrel was held so close he could feel its fur on his tongue. As the spell faded it bit and clawed its way free, badly scratching his face and arms. Yet within minutes the wounds were healing, and soon they had faded completely.

Dawn’s light in the sky came as a great relief. He found a hole, a crack between two rocks, and squeezed himself in. Once again he dropped into dreamless sleep within a few moments.

Chapter 3

It was the hunger that woke him, as darkness fell. Not the hunger he’d fought against the day before. This was a different beast, one that overwhelmed him easily. Something waited in the dark, something the hunger wanted. Not the animals already fleeing as he started to clamber out of his refuge. They were poor fare. What waited in the dark glowed in his mind, drawing him towards it.

He didn’t walk now, he ran – almost flying over the rough ground. He ran for ten minutes, then twenty, not slowing and not tiring. Despite his speed he always found a path, was never blocked, never had to turn back. He felt so strong! And somehow he knew he’d be stronger still, much stronger, once his hunger was sated.

Then, suddenly, he sensed he was near. He dropped into a crouch, carefully closing in until he could see his target. People! Two adults and a child, bundled up beside the glowing embers of a fire. Sleeping deeply. The hunger rose like a dark tidal wave, washing away all reason. Silently he closed in on the sleeping family.

Mary woke with a start, heart pounding, eyes scanning the dark trees. She was too scared to move. Her parents still slept. Again. She’d lost count of how many times she’d woken like this during their journey. She missed the town. She couldn’t get used to sleeping outside in the woods. Her heart leapt into her throat at each strange sound, and there were many of those. Even when she fell into exhausted sleep the sounds dragged her awake again.

They’d been making their way along the coastal path by day, but each night they headed into the forest for ten or twenty minutes before picking a camp-site. Each evening the fire was small and quickly put out. So it wouldn’t attract creatures, her parents said. She might be young, only seven, but she knew fire frightened creatures off. Only one creature sought out fires, the same creature that might be prowling the coastal path at night. Man. Whatever had her parents scared it was people, probably outlaws, not animals.

Now she lay awake, scared rigid, listening for any sound that suggested outlaws had found them. There was nothing. It took her a few seconds to realise why that was wrong. There were no sounds at all. All the normal night sounds were gone. Scared as they had made her, their absence was far, far worse.

Then a shadow seemed to move above her, a man’s shadow with deep red glowing eyes that stared down at her. She wanted to scream but a heavy warmth flowed through her body, sapping her strength, her will. Her last thought was to wonder why the strange man had dogs teeth… incisors sticking out of his mouth. Then the warm fog closed around her tightly.

The child stirred as he closed in on the family. He froze. He could tell she was awake. She lay still, hardly breathing, and she was facing away from where he now crouched. After a few moments he moved on, silently closing in.

His body moved by instinct, the hunger in control. He was floating, relaxing in a deep warmth, only vaguely aware of what happened around him and not caring at all. As his body reached the child he saw her expression change from shock to fear and then into blank slackness as his power overwhelmed her. He knew what would happen next, could feel the excitement quickening the hunger. He could feel his incisors lengthening, ready to pierce her neck so he could drink deeply of her blood. He knew the immense strength her blood would grant him.

His body leaned forward, as under the hunger’s spell as the girl was. His eyes met hers. Pretty eyes. Pretty blue eyes. Eyes that stirred a memory, deep down inside him. Like a bubble freed from the oceans depths the memory rose, faster and faster until it crashed into his mind. A memory of his sister, aged seven or eight, staring at him. His sister? His sister! This child was like his sister!

He jerked back from her, revolted at what he’d been about to do. Lowered her gently back to the ground. Saw her eyes regain focus, watched her draw a deep breath… then ran as she screamed with all her might. With the scream ringing in his ears, stomach churning with disgust and chest full of hatred for what he’d almost become, he ran… and ran… and ran.

In his head a battle raged, the hunger trying to wrest control. For the moment he was winning. The girl’s face, so like his sister’s, shone in his mind. A beacon against the dark. The hunger tried to overwhelm him with a full on assault, tried crashing against his mind like a tsunami. It tried stealth, tendrils sneaking around the sides of his thoughts, feints and counter thrusts. He managed to hold out against every attempt, clinging to his sense of self.

But against the hunger’s greatest weapon, patience, he knew he would lose. Already the anger and the horror were fading, as was his recollection of the girl’s face – and of his sister’s. He could hold on for hours, maybe a day, but he would lose. And when the beast inside won the girl would die. The whole family would die. He could still feel where they were… knew he could find them again now, wherever they went.

The answer, when it came, was shocking in its simplicity. He had to die. In one way he was already dying. If the darkness won he’d no longer exist, he knew that now. Something would carry on, but it wouldn’t be him. He had to die. The question was, how?

His thoughts were clear for the first time in days, which let him realise how hard dying might be. From the way his wounds had healed recently dying wasn’t going to be a simple matter. Just harming himself was unlikely to be enough. He thought some more. How about burning? That might work, but could he build a big enough fire? Could he stay in control long enough to be sure the fire did its work? He didn’t know.

How about the sun? That had burnt him! But in the forest there was shade everywhere. If he lost control he knew the darkness inside would drive him to find cover, to find shade. Could he keep control for long enough to ensure that wasn’t an option?

He didn’t know. Ideas and their drawbacks bounced around his head for several minutes. He continued to run, to flee the family, but he knew he was only buying them a little more time. As he ran, as he felt the dark hunger slowly start to take hold again, he kept hoping for a clearing, a large one ideally. One where he might be able to seek the sun and hold on for long enough that it killed him.

Suddenly he burst clear of the trees, but not into a clearing. All that faced him was a gentle slope of scrubby grass which merged into a sandy beach a couple of hundred paces in front of him. He almost smiled at the sight. Forget clearings, this was what he needed

That beach was where he now sat, watching the eastern sky brightening above the sea. The rising sun would bring his death. That was certain. There would be no shade on the beach, and the treeline was well behind him. He was glad he’d get to see one last sunrise. It would be a beautiful one, judging by the colours already in the sky. He felt more at peace than he had since the bandits had attacked.

The dark hunger hadn’t given up, though. It alternated between subtlety and aggression. First his mind filled with thoughts of how wonderful life was, how precious. Glowing memories filled with pleasure and joy. When he resisted those the hunger attempted to wrench control. It sought to overwhelm him with its force, to stun him enough to loosen his grip. He held on. Sitting peacefully on the beach, hearing the gentle crash of the waves, he was able to resist. Despite the best efforts of the hunger inside, he felt calm, centred, determined.

The pre-dawn light was bright now. Sunrise was only minutes away. He removed his boots, then stood and removed his clothes, throwing them well away from him. He wanted to be sure the sun could reach every part of his body.

Then he sat again. The nearest shade would be under the trees, at least two hundred paces behind him. Or in the water ahead, but with the tide out that was a good hundred paces away. The position was perfect. He settled down to wait. Not thinking… just drinking in the beautiful morning.

When the sun crested the horizon he blinked at its brilliance, then cursed as his skin started to blister and burn. The sun leapt up above the horizon. His curses were replaced by screams. The darkness lashed his soul, urging him to run. Trying desperately to snatch control of his body. He stood firm despite the agony.

The light started blazing through him and he felt the darkness inside shrivel and die. He grinned through gritted teeth. At least, at the end, he would die as himself – his soul cleansed of the dark stain.

His skin charred and burnt. Far worse though was the burning he felt inside. Intense heat within his body and his head made him writhe. The pressure inside kept building, the blazing heat trying to burst its way out of him. Far beyond pain, beyond agony. Filling his world. Causing him to howl and scream. Until finally it burst through him, destroying his body and mind in a blaze of light and heat.

Chapter 4

Jon was worried, scared even. He could tell Sarah, his wife, felt the same. They were both trying to hide the fear Mary, and he was pretty sure they were both failing badly.

They’d woken to Mary’s screams. Jon had jerked upright, and seen a man leaning over Mary. Before Jon could move the man had run, sprinting away at amazing speed despite the dark and the trees. Jon stood guard while Sarah tried to console the sobbing Mary, though the stout branch he held in his hands felt completely inadequate.

Once Jon was sure the intruder wasn’t circling back he built the fire up. That helped Mary settle a little. They slowly started to get the tale from her.

Mary had woken suddenly, fear clawing at her. That wasn’t surprising – Jon knew she woke that way at least a dozen times each night. This time she’d been right, though. The man, or possibly some form of demon, had appeared right above her. He’d had red glowing eyes, eyes that made her feel sleepy, her body heavy. She hadn’t been able to move, to shout, to scream for help.

Then the man opened his mouth and she’d seen teeth that were pointed and sharp. He’d leant in, stared into her eyes… and then froze. Mary started sobbing again at this point in her tale. She kept talking about the eyes, the terrible hungry eyes, blazing in the dark night.

Jon spoke to her gently, comforting her, telling her everything would be all right. All the while feeling sick within. Sick with horror at what had almost happened. Sick with anger at both the intruder and at himself for not waking sooner. And sick with fear that the creature would return. Whatever it was had fled their camp at tremendous speed without making a single noise. It could be stalking them now, creeping closer. Or even rushing at them. How would they be able to tell? For that matter, what could Jon do to stop the creature if it did attack?

When Sarah had managed to calm Mary enough to continue the tale the strangest part came out. Mary said the man had changed when he met her eyes. His face had softened, the pointed teeth withdrew, the anger left his face. And his eyes… their colour faded from red to grey – though she said they still seemed to be lit from the inside. She said it was like a different person stood there, one who was upset – almost crying. The spell on her had faded too. The scream that had been stuck inside finally found its way out. The scream had scared him away. He’d turned and run, then Mary’s parents had reached her. At that point in the tale she burst into tears once more, sobs racking her body. Sarah started trying to comfort her again. Jon resumed his vigil, trying to shake the crawling sensation of someone approaching from behind, whichever way he faced.

That night was one of the longest Jon had ever known. It seemed to last a lifetime. Mary dozed off eventually, but Sarah and he sat in silence, their eyes and ears straining to detect any threat. Every noise made them jump, every animal sounded like the creature returning. Yet the night passed without any sign the creature had done so.

When dawn finally arrived they agreed spending another night in the forest would be impossible. They would have to shelter near the coast, run the risk of someone stumbling on their camp. They would try to travel further each day so they reached safety more quickly.

After a quick breakfast they headed back east. Only when they left the forest did Jon realise just how tense he had felt. He found himself blinking away tears of relief. They turned north and continued their journey, the forest to their left and the sea to their right.

The feeling of relief faded as time went on. Hiking along the coastal path the tree line was never more than a few hundred yards away, and often much closer. Jon caught both the others casting nervous glances at the trees on many occasions. He knew he was doing the same.

Yet when danger found them it wasn’t what they had feared. As they approached a small copse of trees beside the path a man rode out, blocking their way. Several men on foot stepped out beside his horse. Jon looked behind and saw more men rising from hidden positions near the path. There were fifteen or so, all told, far too many to fight. With Mary to carry running wasn’t an option, either.

Stay still, Jon whispered to his family. He stepped towards the leader, who had dismounted and drawn a sword.

Sir, how can we… Jon began, but the leader interrupted him.

Do you like my new sword? he asked playfully.

Before Jon could answer the leader slashed the sword forwards and across Jon’s leg above his knee.

Jon collapsed, screaming in pain. The leader stepped closer, plunging the sword into Jon’s stomach then dragging it clear. A twisted grin settled on his face. He raised the sword and spoke…

I’ve been wanting to test my new sword out. Thank you for giving me the chance. I do appreciate it.

That wasn’t very friendly was it? said a new voice.

The question was softly spoken, but there was power in the voice too. The leader’s head shot round. Jon followed his gaze.

A man stepped past the surprised ring of thugs, moving to confront the leader. His clothes were dirty, his hair a mess, yet he carried himself like a lord.

He’d been scared to open his eyes. The pain had gone, the soothing blackness too. Wherever he was it was bright. Really bright.

He must have died. He’d seen the flesh burning off his body, smelt the stench, felt liquid fire burning every single nerve. He was scared now. Where would he be? His memories were gone but he had a feeling he’d never been particularly religious, that he had no ideas on what came after life. Now he was going to find out, but he was scared to see what state he was in. He felt nothing. Was he a burnt corpse? A cleansed skeleton? A wraith?

Summoning his courage he forced his eyes open, blinking in the bright light. The bright sunlight. Squinting he saw a beach. The same beach.

Other senses started to return now. First hearing. The crash of waves, the cries of seagulls. Then taste and smell. The salty tang of the sea carried in the air. And finally touch. A gentle breeze on his skin. Sand under his legs. Both felt far more intense than normal, as if his skin was tender. Burnt maybe. Heart in his mouth he lowered his gaze to his body. He saw skin. No burns, no scars. Just plain skin. He laughed in relief, tension he hadn’t been aware of flowing out.

So had he dreamed it all? No. The answer was definite, firmly in his mind. And somewhat scarily it was not exactly a thought of his own. He knew. Knew he’d been changed, knew the burning had been part of that change. Something dark had been purged from his body. He now knew the dark nights he’d endured had been preparation, had been a trial. Had he taken the blood of a living creature, especially human blood, he would have been ruled by the dark hunger forever. He didn’t know where this new knowledge came from, other than a feeling it was related to what he had just been through.

That was all the knowledge he’d gained so far, other than a feeling that there was more to learn, more to find out. As the initial shock of finding knowledge that wasn’t his within his mind faded he decided it was actually comforting. It told him that the darkness had definitely left his soul, and taken the hunger with it. Assuming he could trust the knowledge.

Despite the sun he shivered as the wind blew coolly. Glancing around he saw his clothes where he’d thrown them. He stood and stretched, then walked over and started to dress. The sensations of stretching and of dressing felt both familiar and strangely new at the same time.

Once dressed he sat again, staring at the sea. Thinking. His memories of the past week were much clearer now, which was both a blessing and a curse. He remembered the little girl’s face vividly. The horror he’d seen in her eyes. He knew he’d carry that image with him forever. He wished he could see her again, apologise to her.

He remembered falling under the spell of the darkness but now understood it was a catalyst. A necessary step to becoming what he was now, whatever that might be.

He could still remember very little of what had started this journey, of what happened when the wolves had slunk away from the clearing without attacking him. As for his life before the ambush, he had only fragments. Fleeting images. And then, suddenly, one clear memory. His name. Daniel. He almost wept at recovering that vital piece of himself, at the familiar feel of the word.

Suddenly he had a sense of something being very wrong. Daniel sensed fear, anger. He stood, turned. It was coming from the beach to the south. He could see figures, a good mile away and maybe more.

The feeling strengthened. He ran, covering the distance as fast as a racing horse could but moving silently, quickly finding himself approaching a group of armed men who were surrounding a family. It only took Daniel a moment to be sure these were bandits, and the family were their victims.

He arrived just as the leader of the bandits lashed out with his sword, deeply cutting the surrounded man’s leg before driving the sword into the man’s stomach and dragging it clear again.

I’ve been wanting to test my new sword out. Thank you for giving me the chance. I do appreciate it, said the leader, with a grin.

This had to be stopped and Daniel knew he had to do it.

That wasn’t very friendly, was it? he said. Then he stepped forward into the ring of thugs.

Kerant stood shocked, sword forgotten. How had this intruder got so close without being noticed? Suddenly a simple robbery, and the chance to gain a woman for a while, had turned complicated. Was the man alone? Looking around it seemed so. Better to make sure though.

Wolfgang, Stephen… make sure he’s alone, he barked out.

Oh I am, said the man, smiling gently.

Good! Kerant replied, thrusting with the sword as he spoke. He’d always been fast with a blade, in the army he’d been amongst the best swordsman. Turning outlaw had only sharpened those skills. His thrust was fast, with no warning tells. The stranger had no chance, the sword would punch through his stomach and out his back taking a chunk of backbone on the way. A wound sure to disable any opponent.

Except it didn’t. Impossibly, the man had moved, stepping around the blow then in towards Kerant. He was gently resting his hands on the elbow and shoulder of Kerant’s sword arm to prevent a further blow.

Kerant’s experience kicked in despite his surprise. He shoved at his opponent’s hands to push the stranger off-balance, but the stranger seemed to flow around him, stepping in even closer. Kerant attempted a brutal headbutt, again the stranger moved effortlessly out of the way and stepped back.

Kerant was angry now. This man was making him look stupid in front of his men. It was time to end it. He caught Wolfgang’s eye, nodded slightly. Wolfgang raised his crossbow slowly, at the same time Kerant swung the sword in a flat arc. Not at his opponent. He swung at the wounded man sitting trying to staunch his bleeding. Two birds with one stone Kerant thought. Finish the wounded man and distract the stranger.

To Kerant’s amazement the stranger stepped forward raising his bare arm to block the blade. If the arm wasn’t taken off cleanly it would be broken badly. Kerant was more than happy with either prospect.

The sword impacted the stranger’s arm and the shock nearly made Kerant drop it. It felt like he’d hit a steel post. The stranger hadn’t even flinched, the blow hadn’t moved his arm and he showed no signs of injury.

Things were going wrong quickly, and they got worse. Wolfgang shot the crossbow. Somehow the stranger caught the bolt as it flew. Then his hand moved in a blur. Wolfgang made a choking sound, eyes wide in disbelief. He collapsed to the floor dead, with the crossbow bolt jutting from his throat.

Get him! Kerant screamed. No one moved. His men stood with eyes half closed, looking dazed. Sleepy.

Kerant could feel the same effect – an energy sapping warmth washing against his mind. His anger was keeping it at bay. Magic was involved, he had no doubt of that now. He stepped back, anger burning through his mind and keeping him free from the spell. He grabbed the horse’s reins. Maybe mounted he’d stand more chance. If not he could flee far faster on the horse.

As he tried to mount the horse reared, sending him crashing to the floor.

My horse doesn’t like you, said the stranger softly, standing a few feet away and studying Kerant. And I’d like my sword back too.

You! exclaimed Kerant. Yes, with the clues he could see this was the man they’d beaten and strung up for the wolves.

You! he repeated. We should have just killed you. Well, I can soon put that right!

He stood, tightened his grip on the sword and let the fury wash over him. With a yell he charged, swinging the sword in a vicious diagonal strike. His opponent moved impossibly fast to stand almost on Kerant’s toes, facing the same way as Kerant. He span with the sword’s blow, using its momentum and the turn to wrench it free from Kerant’s hand. He continued with the movement. Pivoting until they were face to face again he punched the sword deep into Kerant’s chest.

Kerant stared down a quickly narrowing tunnel at the sword handle jutting from his chest. He collapsed to the floor, dead before he could take in what had happened.

Chapter 5

As the bandit leader’s corpse sank to the floor, time returned to normal for Daniel. He pulled his sword free, wiping it clean on the leader’s clothes then placing it on the ground. He had no need of it for now.

He gestured to the remaining outlaws and they gathered in a group. He could feel his hold over them all, knew they would do as he wished. Even if he ordered them to kill each other, kill themselves. Some of the powers he’d gained were amazing. Terrifying even. In the fight his opponent had seemed to move so slowly that Daniel had been able to glide around each attack.

The control he had over the surviving outlaws… well, he was sorely tempted to use it, but he resisted. The idea of forcing them to give up their ways, forcing them to be something different than they were, felt wrong inside. It strayed dangerously close to the darkness that had been purged from his soul. Instead he formed his thoughts and pushed them out, speaking to reinforce them.

"Two of you lie dead. The rest of you I could kill with ease. But I won’t. In a moment I will send you on your way, but with one command. For the rest of the day you will think about your lives. Think about what you have done. Think of the hurt you have caused. And think of what you could be, what you could do instead.

Can you work wood? Leather? Build? Bake? Or if nothing else, could you turn your sword arms to protecting the weak? It is up to you. For the rest of the day you will consider this, then you are free to choose your own paths. But remember this… if you don’t change and our paths cross again there will be no mercy next time. No second chances. He met the gaze of each man in turn, then flicked his hand. Go. Go now!

The men turned still looking dazed but now, in some cases at least, starting to look thoughtful. They set off without talking and soon it was clear each was finding his own path, ignoring the others. Daniel was pleased. He hadn’t consciously given that command but he thought it would help their chances of turning their lives around.

He turned to the family, crouching down by the girl and smiling slightly.

It’s you isn’t it? she asked quietly. The man from last night?

Yes, he replied, also quietly. I am so, so sorry for scaring you. I was… well… I was very ill. But I am better now. You helped me to get better. Thank you.

The girl smiled shyly, then turned to her parents. The father was still sitting, now propped up by his wife. She was trying to stop the bleeding, with little success. Neither had heard his conversation with the girl, neither knew it was Daniel that had visited their camp the night before. Daniel decided that was best for now. They had more immediate problems. The man’s face was starting to turn grey. Daniel