Guardian

By Dale W Watts

Billy Crains father went missing without a trace almost a year ago. When Billy is rescued from a pit by the village Hermit, he discovers the Hermit knows where his father is. Theres another world involved called Palithion. The Hermit takes Billy and his two friends to aid in his quest to awaken the sleeping wizard and help in the search of Billys father. There, they experience many adventures, encounter danger and see many wonders. Can they wake the sleeping wizard? Can Billy find his father is this vast new world?

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Apr 10, 2018
• ISBN: 9781489712509

Dale W Watts

Dale W Watts wrote in his spare time while working for a propane company. He was a fan of J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" trilogy as well as "The Hobbit". He loved nature and being outdoors. He is remembered as being creative and having a sense of humor. He was known for his "voices" and used "Deputy Dog" on his answering service. Dale passed away in April 2000 at the age of 40. This is his legacy to his family.

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Copyright © 2018 Dale W Watts.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Diane Wiles Illustrator

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

LifeRich Publishing is a registered trademark of The Reader’s Digest Association, Inc.

LifeRich Publishing

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Bloomington, IN 47403

www.liferichpublishing.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4897-1252-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-1251-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-1250-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017906861

LifeRich Publishing rev. date: 03/14/2018

CONTENTS

Foreword:

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter 2: The Treehouse

Chapter 3: The Hermit

Chapter 4: The Grunkies

Chapter 5: Shindric

Chapter 6: Old Dorro

Chapter 7: The Quarquarack

Chapter 8: The Misty Marshes

Chapter 9: The Rainbow Mountains

Chapter 10: The Dwelworrow

Chapter 11: Cyzos And The Sea Of Tears

Chapter 12: Kuldor Tower

Chapter 13: The Journey To Kapalkor

Chapter 14: The City Of Oressia

Chapter 15: Kapalkor Tower

Chapter 16: A Shift In Time

Chapter 17: Serina’s Crib

Chapter 18: The Mournox And Cyzos

Chapter 19: The Perduinian Sands

Chapter 20: To Mourn And To Honor

Chapter 21: Billy’s Dilemma

About The Author:

FOREWORD:

My brother, Dale, passed away unexpectedly in 2000, leaving behind a novel he was working on.

It took some time, getting my son, Eric, to transfer my brother’s book from an old floppy disc to a CD-ROM. Then, because my mother wouldn’t even touch a computer, I bought a ream of paper and ink to print out the entire book, taking up two large notebooks. She and I took turns reading it.

Later, I had a local printer print out copies of the book, so I could send one to my sister, Diane in Oregon. Reading the book gave us a greater appreciation of our brother’s creativity. Sharing this keeps alive happy memories of Dale’s enjoyment in the process of writing this book. After hours of editing and Diane doing the illustrations, we are ready to share his gift with you. It is our wish that fantasy readers find this book as enjoyable as we have.

Terry L Burton

Sister of the author

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Chapter 1: PROLOGUE

A strong wood fire blazed. In the stone hearth, licking its tongues high up the chimney, its bright shadows waved and danced along the ceiling and pine walls of the bedroom, while a family portrait which hung above the fireplace, seemed to come alive with the flickering light.

Jacob’s tense form paced the hardwood floors of the room, treading a path from the eastern most corner, turning abruptly without showing patience, then moved quickly towards the western end, following the outer wall of the first floor and passed a multi-paned window along his way.

He kept his head bowed low, watching the floor, as if tracing every step repeatedly. His coarse black hair swung back and forth, brushing the shoulders of his cotton shirt as he rapidly paced, causing only a slight sweeping sound to his ears, but it still irritated him, so he swept it off his shoulders and into the middle of his back.

Jacob was a tall, muscular man with dark eyebrows and a crook in his nose where it had been broken years before. Deep lines creased his grim face, showing him aging much quicker than his true years.

The scuffing sounds, caused from his weathered boots slowed to a stop as he stood in front of the open window and remained in a position with his head limp for a moment, then raised it as if it held a great weight and brought his vision upward into the night sky. A whirling breeze blew in through the window, settling lightly on his sweating skin. The feeling was soothing as he combed his fingers through his thick hair, allowing the coolness to fan his forehead. Jacob listened to the light wind rustle some leaves on the topmost branches of an old oak outside as he peered into the gray evening. The clear sky above swam with bright stars, but the oncoming clouds from the west, and progressing winds, warned him of an upcoming storm and he prayed that it wouldn’t come too soon and cover the full moon that was so desperately needed on this evil night.

Even though his mind raced with other unpleasant thoughts, he fought to keep his eyes downward and pushed the temptation to look over into the bed away. The hoarse sounds of heavy breathing came filtering into his ears as it broke his thoughts, and again reminded him of the other deep presence in the room. He fought back the impulse to consider that dark corner, but this time the urge was overwhelming, and it tugged at his conscience. He could feel the haunting of those eyes still staring at him like stabbing knives, and it twisted inside of him. Jacob knew that it would do no good to turn, only slap more pain into his now crushing heart. But even though his conscience warned him not to, even though it tore at his soul, he just had to look, to try to help in some way, though he knew he was paralyzed in giving any support. He just had to try and be comforting in some way and hope beyond hope that this dreaded curse would at last be removed.

Jacob released his mind from its battle and relaxed slightly. Like the sun rising in the east, at its own pace, so did his head turn until it reached the southwest end of the bedroom where, standing alone, stood a richly carved bed. Each corner towering with a swollen post of deep craftsmanship. A heavy quilt of many colors covered the bed. Its intricate patterns weaving together a design in which the colors seemed to flow as one, baffling the minds of any onlookers and its blue borders resembled a chorus of ocean waves.

The colors now stood out from the middle where it bulged, because under the quilt was a hideous thing. A creature that was once a young man, well known to all, but now a nonhuman monster.

His brownish head rested heavily on a pillow of goose down. The soft quilt wrapped tightly around his solid neck with ears that were once there, but now gone, as they seemed to have melted off, leaving only small, curved holes.

A monstrous thing he was, but the sight that mostly disturbed Jacob, that chilled his bones to the marrow, was his pronounced cat-like eyes, jutting out from his thick hide.

He stared back at him in disbelief, knowing his nightmare continued, dread sucked into his heart once again from its deepest pits and he felt as if he was dissolving where he stood, that all life he ever knew was meaningless. Was it chance, or fate that abruptly placed him into this hell, he didn’t know, but only prayed that it would soon be over. His vision continued to stay locked on the beast. Its freakish yellow eyes reflected off the bright flames of the wood fire, making them glow a luminous color. The black slits staring out, as if the devil himself had come, bringing with it an evil, deadly purpose. But Jacob knew that they only held great sorrow and desperately cried out for his help. Help he prayed his powers could give this black night.

He continued to watch as the eyes stared back at him with undying guard. His huge chest, heaving up and down as he gasped for oxygen. The creature’s body cringing every few minutes with quick convulsive fits as if burning pain would overcome it.

Jacob was helpless as the thing reached out a weak shaking hand, pleading with him to please save him, and it tore deep into his soul as he turned away with closed tearful eyes, not being able to handle the anguish of its begging any longer.

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This nightmare had all started late last fall, when a troubling dream had invaded his sleep. In the dream, it showed him a strange vision of a long, dark cave that was cut deep into a mountain’s rocky face. A place he did not recognize, but the dream was as clear and solid as if he had actually been there and seen it with his own eyes.

It was not just a passing dream, as he had thought when it first came to him, forgetting it as soon as the sun rose over the horizon the next morning, brushing it off as another unexplainable illusion that would occasionally enter his world of sleep. But this dream broke into his nights constantly, keeping him awake as he pondered what the visions could mean, until even his days of wakefulness were full of its persistent thoughts.

Jacob felt as if he was becoming trapped in its web, the doors of escape closing with each passing day. The dreams now echoing with hushed voices and becoming stronger as it called out to him with a certain mystical power, one of empty darkness that pulled at his mind unceasingly, and it tormented him to search out the vision of his dreams. The controlling voices whispered phantom thoughts of power and wealth, trying to persuade him to come, to find them, corrupting his mind every moment. Jacob found relief from its persistence, for some reason unknown or unexplained to him, with the passing of a full moon and the help of another intelligent presence that he perceived coming from the cave, like to the darkness, but this entity being a presence of pure wisdom, illuminating a bright light that would soothe his mind and force the darkness out.

His torment that urged him to search out the cave would dissipate for a while, allowing him to at last relax his thoughts as it would become blank and empty within a lonely mist, all memories he once had, draining into a void to nowhere.

Unfortunately, this calm never lasted for long. The darkness guarding on the outer edges of the light and fighting always with its undying struggle to cloud over its radiance and extinguish its powers. Then the light would release its helping hold on Jacob and he would be forced to concentrate onto the strengthening darkness. Then his torture would once again return to tug at his will.

These pursuing whispers followed him relentlessly for months. He found no peace and knew he could not go on like this. The strain on his mind unbearable, he had no choice left to him, but to search out the darkness that beckoned to his soul.

Jacob found himself facing the mountain side of his haunted dreams on the third day out on his quest. The weather being on his side for the most part of the journey, with sunshine the first two days, then on the third clouding, with occasional light rain.

The dark voices guiding him well and strengthening with every march closer.

As in his dream, the cave’s mouth hid itself behind a large broken rock, grey and white in color with jagged edges. It blocked the entrance enough so that it was impossible to see from the ground level, but he knew exactly where it was, too long did it plague his being not to know.

The vertical side of the mountain was sheer and flat with scattered clumps of dying brush all around. Its height to the entrance a long hundred yards up.

Hazy clouds swamped the sky above, letting loose a fine drizzle and wetting the smooth rock of the mountain, making it look polished and treacherous to climb.

Jacob secured his pack tighter around his back then scouted the cliff for his best path to ascend. The power of dark whispers, much stronger now and throbbed in his head like drums, as he would soon be within its reach.

The going was slow as he carefully chose his way, one cautious foot at a time, the slippery stone causing his climb to be extremely dangerous, and at one point he tried to go back down to wait for drier weather, but it was too late. The powers within too strong with him so close and it oppressed his mind, pounding deep pain inside at the mere thought of retreat, and he was forced to go on.

The approach to the entrance became the most hazardous of the climb, because of a shelf of rock which held the large rock in front of the cave’s mouth. He found it virtually impossible to scale. He had to circle around the bottom of its base, over to the western side where a small section was flat and horizontal enough to enable him to drag himself upward, using only his arms. He crawled at a snail’s pace, inching his way up with his legs dangling in the wind, until he had his sore body lying on the level area.

Breathing heavily, he rested awhile before attempting to enter. His sore muscles flaring in his arms and legs from the hard climb. The ghostly voices that followed his every move, were as forceful as ever, but now somehow different. The words spoken to him were filled with an overjoyed urgency, pleading with him to enter the cave, promising that all his torment would soon be over. The presence of the pure light flashed in his mind words of warning.

Jacob staggered to his feet and took a few shaky steps forward into the mouth, having to bend downward as he entered and leaving daylight behind. It was dark and damp inside, the acidy smell reminding him of an old river bed. Only shadowed light entered the cave from the heavy overcast outside and made it hard to see much at all in front of him, but that didn’t matter. The voices continued to guide and pushed him deep into the rear, where the cave abruptly ended, the entrance becoming a small circle of filtered light from the day that still held onto the outside world.

The very end of the cave where Jacob stood opened into a wide round arch. Moisture collected between many of the deep cracks in its roof and dripped lonely pellets of water to the floor.

At the center of this open room, Jacob was guided to a flat stone, several inches wide, lying in a bed of wet sand and instinctively bent over to pick it up. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he could just make out a strange mark on the stone’s white surface and he carefully studied it.

Engraved in a skilled craftsman’s hand, was the design of a quarter moon in front, of a bright sun with many flowing rays, and above both, in a crowned arch, stood the glowing depths of five distinguished stars.

Lifting the stone carefully, he placed it to one side and impulsively began digging, quickening his pace with every stroke, a madness overtaking him to uncover the treasure he knew was under the earth waiting for him. Luckily the sand he pushed to one side remained light and loose, or his knuckles and the tips of his fingers would have become bloodier than they already were.

Before long he had a hole dug, two feet wide and four feet deep. Sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging them, when he uncovered the hard top of a chest. He pulled and struggled to remove it from its depths but found that he had to dig further as the long chest hid itself deeper into each side of the hole he had uncovered. Finally, Jacob could grab one of its two side handles and slid the heavy object out of its long tomb and placed it to the right of the hole, his heart beating out of his skin in anticipation.

The chest was unadorned, made from a thick brown leather, cut from an animal of some unknown origin. A plain, tarnished lock of brass held the two halves of the chest together and Jacob picked up the stone that had marked its hiding place and used it to break the lock apart, succeeding with his fifth stroke.

The dark voices were overwhelming his mind as they sang with evil joy. Just barely perceivable, filtering through its black web, was the presence of the light that had helped him through those hard trials, and on the very edge of his corrupted thought, it warned him to choose with his heart. What this thought truly meant, he did not know, but the purity of its wisdom made him try his best to ally with it and to struggle against the pursuing voices that tormented him for so long.

He placed one straining hand on top of the chest and pushed upward until it fell over to the other side and hung off its leather hinges which bonded the two halves. Jacob leaned over slightly, curiously looking into the chest, his blood racing through his veins.

Inside, on a bed of scarlet cloth, laid a pouch, black as jet, and to the left end of the chest laid one of soft white. Both were hiding a circular object in each as the pouches hugged tightly around them. Lying in front of the chest, as if guarding the cloth sacks, was a long sword with a richly carved sheath of silver, its golden handle studded with bright gems of ruby and diamonds and forming the same sun, moon, and star design as on the marking stone that he had found.

His immediate thought was to open the pouch of black. It was his yearning, his craving, pushing him to open this covering. His hesitation in doing so saved him, because fighting away his desires the best he could, he found and followed the voice of the light, even though it seemed false and harsh with the evil voices singing to him so close as they conquered his inner self. But still, he found his heart and amazingly the pouch to his left began to glow with a flowing warmth that dazzled his eyes. His mind easing in its desires for the darkness and Jacob reached toward the white cloth, but his hand directed itself uncontrollably, as if drawn by a pulling magnet to the black. His fingers hovering just a hair above it, the voices screaming in his head, take us, take us now, before it’s too late.

Jacob’s body began to shake with sweat flying off his haggard face, and he fought his craving to at least touch the cloth of black, knowing that in doing so, would be no different than placing his hand into a crippling bear trap, but still his needs were there, even though it would destroy his life. The freedom in doing so did not seem to be such a high price to pay.

His fingers twitched above the black cloth and crept its slow way to its awaiting hell.

Jacob didn’t notice it, being engulfed in his struggle, but a floating mist began to flow out of the pouch of white, stretching itself upward like a ghostly finger, as if reaching for Jacob’s hand. The illuminating light from the mist brightening the rocky cavern tenfold with its soothing glow, the screams turning to screeches in his mind, begging and pleading with him to take them.

As the reaching finger of mist at last found its goal, it touched Jacob’s hand, just above the wrist. Immediately, a clear pure warmth shot throughout his shaking body, his tight muscles relaxing quickly and drooped downward. He sucked in a hard, deep breath and quickly snatched up the white cloth bag before any more indecision invaded his head. The black voices dwindling to whispers, then dispersed out of his mind and were gone.

The difference from his constant torment and the sudden release of its pressures, shocked him as if he had taken a bullet to the heart. His head became light with swirling visions of unknown designs, then he collapsed head first into the sandy floor of the cave, unconsciousness relieving him of his long battle.

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When Jacob awoke, he was confused to where he was and a small amount of panic set in and he quickly looked around to his surroundings, his eyes slow to focus into anything recognizable. Then, all the realization of where he was, and events that passed, came flooding back. His head throbbed with the thoughts and he forced himself to relax again. When he felt that he was under his own control, regulating his breath, and calming his beating heart, he again looked around. Hours or days had passed, he did not know which, only the cloudy, dreary day that was there when he had first entered the cave had turned itself into a starry night.

As he looked to the end of the cave’s mouth, he could see the corner of the moon peaking its face just to the left of the entrance, its radiance shining a few of its beams inside the cavern and producing a soft glowing light. Jacob moved his body slightly to his right to begin his ascent up to his aching feet, then noticed for the first time that a clear, crystal globe was clutched hard into his left hand. He held it as if his life depended on it, the knuckles of his rough fingers were white from its crushing grip and painted with dry blood. The white pouch that seemingly covered the globe was discarded to the ground.

Gaining his balance, muscles stretching in sharp pain, Jacob slowly got to his feet, swaying for a moment, then controlled himself, his mind empty of most thoughts, but refreshed and tranquil, a comforting feeling he had never experienced before and he found it strange. Only a very small amount of light filtered into the back of the cave as the moon rose and hid itself from the entrance, but it was enough to give Jacob some bearing on his movements, his eyes leading him back to the leather chest lying to the left of him a few paces away. He could just make out the shadowy form of the black pouch still bulging with what he guessed to be another crystal, it’s memorable voices causing shivers to run down his spine and he turned away from its presence.

Jacob’s only desire, was to leave this accursed place, the evil creeping its slow way back into his mind and he debated with himself if the wicked thing should be buried again, deeper this time, but he did not dare to bring himself any closer to it, for it may jump back into him as before, with his torture returning. He did not wish for its maddening presence again and took no chance.

He gathered up the white covering and slipped its silky skin over the crystal he held in his hand, lacing it with an attached string and placed it into his pack. As he did so, a gentle glistening flash caught his eye near the open chest on its right side. After focusing on the object, he realized that it was the long-jeweled sword. How it escaped its bed of scarlet cloth was a mystery to him and he pondered this thought for a moment. He knew he had fallen unconscious, dead to the world, but did he somehow remove the sword from its bed, just as he thought it possible that he could have uncovered the crystal from its pouch without remembering to do so? He could not recall the memory even though he tried and quickly dropped the puzzle.

The jewels on the swords hilt sparkled in the thin light of the rising moon and he was amazed at its beauty.

As he soaked in its splendor, his instinct, or some outside force, told him distinctly that the crystal he held, and the sword, were bounded somehow and belonged together.

So, without hesitating, as quick as a snake, he snatched up the blade, making sure he made no eye contact with what still laid in the open chest, then made his slow way up the shadowed throat of the cave and began scaling down the mountain’s face, using the moon’s glowing beams to guide him.

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Back in Crocker Village, in the security of his own home, exhausted from his long journey but extremely curious, Jacob removed the crystal from his pack and unlaced the white bag. He gathered up a blue cloth and placed it on his wooden table of pine, its polished knots eyeballing his every move. He then curled the cloth around, so it formed a soft pillow and laid the prized globe on its new home. With his body thrilled by his new possession for reasons he really couldn’t understand, he sat himself in front of the stone and brought his head downward to search into its depths.

As he analyzed the clear crystal, it seemed to be made of just ordinary quartz or fine glass with no special characteristics illuminating from it and he was about to withdraw himself a little disappointed when its very center began to change and suddenly expanded outward. Jacob snapped back in his chair astonished. To his complete shock, the inside form of the stone began to move with a foggy mist that swirled around in its interior. It looked as if a storm cloud with heavy circular winds were passing its hurried way through it. Jacob sat back silently for a moment, telling himself that what he was witnessing was really happening and not just fatigue. Once again, he bent slowly down to within inches of its surface, his eyes scanning nervously.

On the other side of the mist he could just perceive a ghostly image moving in the background, but the thick cloud cover would not allow him a good enough picture of the undetermined scene to know what it was. He caught sharper glimpses as the mist would thin for an instant, then grow thick again, blocking his view.

Then suddenly, the cloud broke away altogether ending its viewing barrier and Jacob sat back again with a quick jerk. He could not believe what his eyes were seeing, and he rubbed them for a moment to remove the dream he was having away, but when he looked again, the images were still there.

This magical crystal revealed to him black and white flashing visions of many things. His head becoming mesmerized as he watched fleeting pictures of old warriors dressed in strange garb unknown to him and their hard struggles. Strange lands would flash by that he knew were not from his world. He saw fierce creatures that only the devil himself could be in league with.

As he continued to view these swiftly moving scenes and concentrated on what it was trying to show him, the picture slightly slowed, and he saw an old man with a flowing beard of snow white, dressed in a dark blue robe. Then the scene suddenly shifted, and a race of short, stumpy people came into view, their coarse beards braided into a fork and placed to each side of their garments, their energetic bodies working ferociously at a great furnace, forging what looked to be a long weapon of some sorts, it’s blade molten hot as they hammered away at it. Leathered smocks draped to their feet to protect them from flying sparks.

Jacob noticed the hilt of the weapon as they carefully placed in selected gems, their patience showing them to be great craftsmen. He let out a gasp as he recognized the weapon as the very sword he had lying next to him and he watched the scene more intently as astonishment ran through his blood.

Soon the scene changed, and he saw a huge white castle with many high tiers. Incredibly, it seemed to float on the surface of a large waving lake. At its top most tower, peaked a radiant star that shined its brilliant rays down into the water below and the lake became a maze of a thousand flashing diamonds.

Then some great horned creatures engulfed the crystal and Jacob drew back. Their massive heads swinging around in search for something and he felt as if they were looking for him or that which he possessed. Then again, the picture changed, and Jacob relaxed as it showed a bright sun warming a village of reed huts that stood above the grassy earth, supported by bamboo stilts. A silvery river flowing around them.

Then he saw a moon at its fullest, shining its light on two figures, one a man he recognized in the blue robe, the other figure, a curious creature, the top half of its body being a small man with large pointed ears, the other half of its body, from the waist down, to be that of a two-legged horse. Then it shifted to a great wide plain with an endless sea of rich golden straw. Then a large forest mountain with many populated fortresses and flowering gardens upon it.

The crystal began to shift swiftly again where he only saw quick glimpses of certain scenes, knowing somehow that each held great importance and he realized that the stone was revealing to him a history of events from a strange world, other than the one he knew and lived in.

The globe changed back to the cloudy mist of before, then nothing, returning to the ordinary stone he first thought it to be.

He relaxed to the back of his wicker chair, his mind flowing with renewed thoughts. After a long while of pondering, he reached over to the table and placed the white covering back over the stone. He then rose to his feet and dragged himself to his bed of cotton where only scattered moments of sleep came to him throughout the night.

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Time flowed by with a harsh winter passing into early spring, green buds enhancing the surrounding trees as they waited to open to their freedom.

Jacob learned much from the stone. After some time of using it and watching its fleeting scenes go buzzing by, he learned that if he concentrated on his deepest thoughts hard enough, staying focused on certain subjects, the crystal would sway his way and reveal to him the knowledge he would search for, but never for very long.

It seemed to have a mind of its own and always pursued the history of the other world, never giving him full control of the visions, but showing quickly moving pictures as they whipped by his eyes, sometimes slower and holding to one specific scene as if its importance was needed to be known, and he would study the vision intently.

In addition to this other world, Jacob’s knowledge of his own earth increased dramatically. He learned the ways of the world’s creatures, big and small, to the thundering elephants in its scorching habitat, that he thought only to be a child’s tale of imagination, to the buzzing bees and their relationships with the many sprouting flowers of the fields and forests. He understood the ways of the stars and their many faces, the rise and fall of sun and moon. How specific plants on earth had certain virtues for illnesses, and how to apply them and use them properly.

He used his new knowledge to care for his fellow villagers and their children, and they took his generous help gratefully. He himself became a teacher of the earth as the stone had taught him, showing anyone with a thirst to learn anything and everything they wished to know. In this way, Jacob became the most revered and respected man of the village and all the surrounding populated areas, his name becoming known to all.

But as his popularity grew, so did his troubling thoughts that refused to yield to his unrestful nights of sleep as the cycles of the world brought him change. Changes that disturbed him.

He learned that the powers of the crystal would wax with the coming of a full moon and this is when he mostly used the stone, but to his despair, when the moon waned, the presence of his old torment would again be felt. Not like it had tortured him before, but just enough to let him know that its corruption was still there patiently waiting for its day, and he again debated with himself to go and bury the leather chest and its contents deep under the earth to hopefully rid himself of its presence forever.

He planned to make the journey once more when the spring rains had ended, but to his deepest regret, he procrastinated too long. Spring was warming with summer around the corner when he felt that black presence again, much stronger this time and he knew that his old plague was within him once more. This time with a different feeling, as if it was close by, patiently waiting no more, but rejoicing as it did when he had first uncovered it from the ground, and he brought out his precious crystal to search into its depths for guidance.

As he explored its foggy center, his mind straining with thoughts of the shadows that troubled him, the stone reluctantly revealed to him a devastating scene that crushed him so hard, and so low, that his life from that point on would only lead him down narrow paths of darkness and pain. The vision shown to him was the beautiful lady Isabel, with her silky auburn hair, waving in a light breeze. She knelt in a patch of soft grass, growing thick on the edge of a small lake in the forest that the villagers used to gather water when their wells dried. Cupped in her hand was a circular crystal, like the one he kept, only this one jet black and Jacob immediately recognized it as the source of all his past torment, the thing that ate at his mind, night and day, until he thought he would go mad or perish.

Without seeing the stone with his own eyes, he still held no doubt that the thing Isabel held in her hands was a powerful evil that would cripple anyone’s life who came close to it, and here she was, touching the vicious rock with her own fingers. Jacob’s heart fell from his chest, tears forming in his eyes as he watched in total devastation. How could this be? he asked himself.

She was staring directly into the blackness, obvious confusion invading her mind, her once shining eyes straining as she searched into its wickedness, her mouth slung open as if its hinges were broken. It seemed if it was tearing at her, her body jerking as if she were being struck by some unseen hand. Jacob remembered the pain he went through, and it pierced him like a dull ripping blade to see her in this agony. He knew that she wanted desperately to throw the hated thing down to the ground, cast it away and run, but it had trapped her thoughts in its grip, just as it tried to trap his.

Jacob knew the grave danger she was in and he flew out of his chair with a heavy rush, the chair flinging itself outward and crashed into the wall. He rushed to the wooden door to his house, fumbled with the knob, then opened it hard with his tremendous strength and the door smashed against the wall to his right, causing it to shake in a quick convulsive fit. He sprinted out into the night and turned westward down the main road towards the village where there was a path on its northern end that would lead him to the lake.

Jacob ran as fast as he could to Isabel, a few lonely tears streaming down his cheeks as he began a race with the devil. His legs moving doggedly as if in slow motion and every sacred moment was needed.

When he reached the village, there were no men nor women about the great buildings of the community. Everything was silent, and he remembered that the time was approaching midnight, if it hadn’t already passed and no one would be about at this late hour.

Finally, he had reached the path on the other side of the village. He had almost run past it and he cautioned himself to slow down a pace and stay alert. He could afford no mistakes. He was forced to slow anyway because of the low branches looming up in front of him through the grayness of the night.

Jacob began to feel and hear the presence of the blackness again and its voices, but it no longer called him with feigned words, it used harsh, devilish expressions of warning for him to turn back. He was no longer needed. It held no soothing powers in its voices as there once were when it constantly tried to persuade him. All words heedless, coarse, and with an overpowering hatred for all things in the living world.

Hours seemed to pass by as the lake finally came into view from the left side of the seldom used path he took to reach it. His chest heaved for air as he stopped and desperately scanned the lake. Hot sweat masking his face and he slid his shirt sleeve over his forehead to relieve himself, a gesture he didn’t realize he made. It was hard to make out much from the shadows. No moon showed its face this night. Then incredibly, he spotted the silhouette of a woman down by the water’s edge, about fifty yards to his right.

Jacob jumped towards her, running and earnestly calling out her name. Isabel, Isabel! But she failed to respond to his voice and remained unmoving as if she was frozen in place. He drew quickly within sight of her dusky features, the evil still playing in her hands and he cried out a fearful No!

The ball she held threw off rays of a kind of blackness that somehow reflected off surrounding objects and sharpened their features as a natural light would shine and expose things under the shadows of night. This darkness causing all things to look deathly, as if rotting with an incurable disease. The black light of the stone showing a transfixed face in its gripping beams that was no longer Isabel’s. This face was haggard and aged, stretched as if fighting a tremendous battle of the mind. The straining hands that clutched the ball twitched hard, as the nerves were on the brink of their capability and stressed to the limits that she was now going through.

Jacob continued to call out her name. Isabel, Isabel, please, with no response, calling it softer as he approached this different woman, every step closer revealing another tormented line on her face and he felt a new wound in his heart.

He pondered how she could have possibly come to have this stone in her possession and again regretted never burying it deep into the earth. How could she have scaled that steep mountain’s face? How could she have journeyed so far without any of the villagers or even he himself noticing her absence?

Jacob remembered the darkness calling him out repeatedly and the desire and yearning to seek for it, even though he knew its evil. He needed it, his craving being so high for its touch and he was forced to search for the stone or go mad with its constant whispers, and he realized that the thing must have given up on his conscience and turned to corrupt another. Why had it been Isabel? Why did she yield to its voices?

The woman bent over, staring into the rays of darkness and did not respond to Jacob’s calls until he was within a few strides away. Then with the speed of a flash of lightning, she snapped her head around piercing his eyes with her own and suddenly bolted up to her feet and faced him.

Demonic growls of some wild rabid animal flew from her mouth and he stopped dead in his tracks, dazed in disbelief of the nonhuman sounds that thundered from her throat. He stood motionless for a time, stunned. Then slowly recovering from his shock, remembering why he was there, he reached out his hands, palms up, and pleaded with her, Isabel, please give me the stone, it is evil.

She didn’t flinch a muscle.

Please, my lady, let it go.

Then her eyes opened wide until they looked ghostly in the black rays of the stone, her face agonized, and she looked at Jacob as if she was appalled by his suggestion. She held the stone behind her, gripping its surface hard to ensure no escape from her hand. Then sucking in a huge breath of air, her chest heaving upward, she screamed at him long and loud with the same phantom voice as before and Jacob had to cover his ears from the thunderous hammering she inflicted upon him and he hid his head in his arms, her roaring voice undying.

Finally, he looked up to her with caution, holding his movements to a crawl and only when her breath completely extinguished itself, Isabel stared back at him with hateful eyes, unmoving, like a wild animal waiting to be leapt upon and ready to run for its life. Then her jaw and lips began to grimace in tight knots and nonsensical babble produced from them, but the actions were not in control of herself. It seemed as if some outside force were moving her lower face as a puppet would with the aid and skill of its master.

Jacob again raised his hands, lower this time, and softly called out her name, Isabel.

She only continued to stare back, speaking unknown words.

Isabel, please give me the crystal, he whispered pleadingly and was about to take a cautious step forward but stopped abruptly when a black fog began to creep its slow way out from the globe and crawled with great patience up her body until it engulfed her whole in its mist and seemed to squeeze inward.

Isabel suddenly let out a hard shriek, her own voice coming back to her as she absorbed excruciating pain throughout her body and she fell to the ground as if her life had just ended.

Jacob jumped forward to help her, but as he came closer, so did her pain worsen. She cringed in front of him like he was the culprit of all her pain, as if his own hand was stabbing her with ripping tortures. He stepped back a pace and continued to retreat away from her until her agony lessened, then finally, many strides back, the pain seemed to pass away from her body.

Isabel laid motionless in the soft damp grass, her green dress stained with earth and torn in several places, the mist that surrounded her unrelenting.

Jacob, not knowing what to do, did the same, not moving at all for a long while. He watched the guarding cloud about her, hoping for it to remove itself or blow away in the light breeze of the evening. His wishes seemingly never to come true. After hours of patiently waiting, but still he refused to give up and continued his vigilance over her motionless form except for her light breathing.

The constellation Orion with its belt of shining stars which was in the eastern horizon when he had first come to this place, was directly overhead. He considered a small grove of maple trees that grew numerously around the lake, their leaves clapping together with noisy applause in the soft wind. The sky above their shadowed bulks was lightening. Sunrise would soon be upon them.

Then Jacob began to move. He crept like a dormouse in the direction of Isabel hoping to get close enough to her to remove the dark stone from her grip and hopefully release her from its iron hold, but the cruel infliction from the blackness immediately stabbed at her again because of his attempted approach, her body tightening as she once more suffered its tortures.

Jacob retreated quickly, his soul torn from being so helpless and seeing the lady Isabel in such pain and not knowing the extent of her injuries. All he could do was sit and wait for any window of opportunity that might open so he could help her. How, when and if that window would open, he did not know.

Time waned as the light of morning grew and pushed out the night. Then to his complete surprise, Isabel began to move, first only slightly, like she was fighting against the unseen ropes that bound her, then made her slow, weak way to her feet from the grass, and without looking back in his direction, she walked shakenly away from Jacob with the evil still clutched in her hands.

Isabel, he said, but again there was no response. Jacob knew that there was nothing he could do to help her. For him to plead with her was useless. To approach her would only inflict great pain. He thought of forcefully taking the stone away from her, but that would probably drive her mad or even bring her to her death, because he knew only too well the powerful control it locks into the mind and how it would break if that power was pulled away suddenly. The black crystal had conquered her soul under its total domination and he knew he was crippled in trying to aid her. His sorrow for her was deep, and he felt as alone in the world as he never felt before, his helplessness burning him inside as his praying eyes watched her stumble away down the narrow path that led around the lake until she fell out of sight, falling behind the forest trees.

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As Jacob’s cluttered mind reflected on these ugly thoughts of this past summer, it suddenly snapped back into reality when a loud knock came to the door that startled him and his spirit melted away with the expected sound he had been waiting for. His heart throttled up quickly and began to race as he reluctantly dragged himself out into the other room and towards the wooden door that led to the outside, the sounds of heavy breathing still echoing in his ears.

Jacob knew that his appointed time had come. The destiny of all was in his gripping hands, as all his past nightmares that he had hoped he would awaken from, came crashing down into one point with the truths of it all following with it, and he knew what he must do, even though the lives of many would be in jeopardy.

Minutes seemed to go by before he reached the door. A shaking arm stretched to the knob and he twisted it to the right. He opened the door with effort, as if it were made of iron, the brass hinges rubbing a sound of warning as the door slowly swung inward. Jacob’s face was bowed low, his body limp. He neither lifted his head to see who was there or even bothered with any verbal communication. He only stepped back and waited for his doom.

Alexander’s huge bulk stood motionless in the doorway. Only the wind showed movement as it pulled at his soft clothing. The light from an oil lamp hiding deep within the room reflected off his face, causing it to look devilish with his short pointy beard. He wore a dark wool coat with a wide white collar, his blondish hair waving in the breeze like a ghost in the wind.

He alone knew what this night meant to Jacob and he hesitated before speaking. We must leave now, Jacob. The moon has risen and will soon show its face above the tree line.

Jacob nodded his head a few feeble times, up and down as a gesture showing that he understood. He then waved his hand in front of him, telling Alexander to go. Then picked up a small white sack which held a heavy object in its bottom from a polished end table that stood by itself under a window.

Alexander turned from the doorway and glanced behind him, making sure that Jacob was going to follow and stepped into the starry night. The villagers have already gone to the lake and have gathered around the witch’s house. There will be no escape unless she again uses her black magic, Alexander said, but still we must hurry, they are impatient and may not wait for us even though we warned them that they must.

Jacob nodded his head and said, Lead the way, at the pace you deem is needed and I will follow. His thoughts and racing heart settling some. Now that things were set in motion it seemed somehow easier even though his legs still dragged as if restrained. He noticed the wind blowing heavier than before, or maybe it just felt that way because he was outside, and he looked up into the trees. The moon was bright and solid and could be seen just peaking over the tops of some white pines ahead of him and to the right. On the left side lay a flat, hay field large enough to show the horizon and he saw the dreaded cloud cover racing forward to engulf the crucially needed moon. Without its bright fullness, all could be lost and many of the villagers harmed.

Seeing the clouds coming up faster than he had hoped, his effort renewed, and Jacob’s pace overcame Alexander’s and he passed him as they headed northwest up the gravel road which led into the village center. Alexander showed some surprise as he did so, and Jacob pointed somewhat urgently to the coming storm. Alexander nodded solemnly, showing that he understood and pushed himself to keep up with Jacob.

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Jacob’s thoughts returned to Isabel. She had put forth this evil deed that laid in his bed, three mournfully long days ago. He had prayed that she would feel remorse or sorrow and remove this accursed spell, but the blackness inside her was just too deep. Everything was tried to save her from the darkness of this world and he found no choice but to send her away, even though the others will want her dead.

Jacob could not find it in his heart to kill her, she was once a good, favored woman. It was not her fault for what she had become. It was the fault of that cursing black stone, one of two stones that he had uncovered, and he blamed himself for the wicked thing she now was. Still, he had no choice but to send her away forever, to save herself, the people, and the village from the terror that she had so wantonly plagued.

Isabel had disappeared for weeks after that dark night she had become entrapped in the black crystal’s powers. Jacob had searched for her night and day, relentlessly, but to no avail. She was gone, vanishing without any of the villagers seeing even the slightest glimpse of her and it stayed that way for a long while, until unexpectedly she resurfaced out of the forest one gray morning, and wandered into the streets of the village. The green dress that she had worn, now tattered into loose, dirty rags, while her once radiant hair was tangled with a swarm of tight knots. Everyone kept their distance from her as her red bloodstained eyes stabbed out to them with warnings of sickness and they were afraid.

Jacob, hearing that she was still alive, believed that she had rid herself of that evil thing and prayed that she was alright, but when he found her and approached her, and saw how she was, he knew it wasn’t so.

She had aged terribly in the time she had remained hidden, her body slumped to one side and she had to drag herself about.

Jacob did not give up on her, he still held hope and studied her for a way into her heart, so he could again show her the life she once knew and lived, but all he could find was the great struggles and misery written in her face. He tried to plead with her, to let him help rid herself of the anguish that was inflicted upon her. She would only walk away from him, always avoiding his staring eyes. Once he had grabbed her arm as his patience wore thin from her stubbornness to let him help, and hoped to shake some sense into her, but all she had done was screech at him in the same loud, animal voice as before and he had to let her go, his efforts fruitless.

She became more distant from all that knew and loved her with each passing day. She would not even look into their faces as they would brave themselves from her contorted body and beg her to accept their aid, but she would never take it, only retreating into the dark woods near to the lake every evening, just before dusk, alone, and the ones who cared for her cried with pity.

Before long, Jacob understood why she had ventured upon them once more. She had plans of her own and laid them out quickly.

Isabel persuaded some of the village men by giving them empty promises, or somehow bribing them with her evil, to build for her a small stone house by the water’s edge of the lake and in a very peculiar spot.

Jacob had intervened and forcibly tried to stop the construction of the dwelling, some of the men listening to his strong words, others not, and the house was eventually built. She disappeared into it, never to be seen again, but for a few chance times in the evenings when the skies were black with clouds.

As the days passed into weeks, weeks into months, so did the horrors of the village begin to grow, until the choices were laid out on the table. Either to kill Isabel or find a way to stop her evil deeds.

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Jacob’s thoughts returned to himself and he quizzed Alexander on what his duties would be when they reached the witch’s house.

Alexander related to Jacob, When we first enter the dwelling, it is imperative that I search out and find the black stone and cover it, adding immediately, the witch most likely having it in her hands awaiting to blast us with its evil.

Do not worry Alexander, I will protect you from it. Have trust in me, he reassured him. And what must you not do? Jacob asked sternly.

I remember your warnings only too well, my friend. At all costs, I must not look directly into the stone.

And the others?

They stand ready.

Good, good.

Then his eyes looked up and he scouted out the upcoming buildings as they approached the village.

Three men with lit torches stood under the eaves of a wide grey barn, its back half stuffed with hay. They came walking out to the road as the two men began to pass, their grim faces struggling to hide their true fright, but still they fell behind Alexander who followed Jacob.

Other men, some with torches, some with choice weapons like pitchforks and axes, waited for their arrival. They stood in various places, mostly in the front yards of the closely set buildings that were surrounded with wide gapping fences of uneven wood boards, looking like the crooked teeth of some giant.

As the men passed by, the yard dwellers took up the rear of the group, a few of them cheering Jacob’s name. For they knew that this man held the power to rid them of the evil witch who had harmed them all in one way or another.

Their healthiest of crops rotting for no apparent reason, their young livestock being newly born mutated with gnarled hooves and legs, or blind, some unnourished and unable to stomach any of the grains given them until the poor beasts starved themselves to death.

The witch’s master atrocity was when the villagers’ very own children became afflicted with some feverish spell of the hag’s, their bodies burning and convulsing uncontrollably as if warding off hard battering, by some invisible entity, the youngest never recovering as they would slowly weaken day by day until they gave up their struggle and perished.

The men knew that Jacob alone held the strength to destroy her forever, and they had faith in him that nothing could befall them from the witch’s curses when they were in his presence.

Jacob, Alexander and the following men reached the northern end of the village and struck a seldom used cart road with tall grass growing between the wheel tracks and to the sides. It wove itself through the forest trees and led mostly east, trailing deep into the dense woods and hugged the lake where Isabel’s transformation into the witch began and hopefully the place where it shall end.

The path had been dark as it tunneled through thick groves of tall fir trees, their green needles blanketing the sky from their view, but as they came closer to the lake, the trees grew thinner with young poplar and a few scattered birches, allowing the evening stars to shine through them.

The moon showing its radiance and brightened their vision, but not so with their hearts and the conversations between the men boiled down to whispers as they approached the witch’s dwelling. Then there was only silence.

The storm clouds were still some distance away before they would reach the moon’s glowing surface, both in a race to rise higher into the night sky, the clouds closing the distance.

The men had marched in single file through the thick pines but doubled up as the path widened. Alexander making a point to stay close to Jacob’s shoulder. When they came within sight of the house, shaky cheers rose from the many men who surrounded the small building and rock shed across from it. They hid themselves behind the numerous trees and stayed well out of sight of the building while maintaining a constant guard.

The house was cleverly placed near to the water’s edge, but not on, to keep it out of view of wandering eyes and blending well with the solid foliage. The outer shell and foundation was hurriedly laid with many heavy stones of a cloudy grey color and tightly cemented together by a mixture of clay and crushed straw. Soft filtered light illuminated from its one tiny window that looked westward back up the thin cart road. The northern side, facing the water, was cleared of majestic oaks that once inhabited the land, cut down unskillfully and dragged to the sides heedless of how they were placed and where they now lay to rot and eventually return