The Changing (8 page)

Sara lay unconscious, yet her mind was reeling at the blissful return to her current state for many a moment. She wanted to awake, hoping to find Seth near and learn of all that had happened in her absence, but for the moment she let her body rest and enjoyed her returned connection with mortality. Sara drifted between conscious thought and unconscious dreams on and off as her body became fully reconnected with her consciousness. Somewhere between a dream and a memory Sara found herself once again assaulted, and overcome, by excruciating pleasure. Something inside her snapped and the wall between her and the world around her fell away. With something between a gasp for air and a moan of pleasure, Sara’s back arched off the floor beneath her as her muscles tensed in a pleasurable stretch and she opened her eyes.

Sara looked up to the man she loved, a smile parting her lips, and found that he too was smiling, but something about his demeanor was off. Sara glanced around their surroundings to see if the trouble in Seth’s eyes was a concern beyond that of her understanding. Though look as she may, from her current position upon the floor, she could find nothing of terrible concern. In fact it appeared they were alone in a stone chamber of some sort that was lit by an eerie green glow that emanated and reflected off everything in the room. Returning her gaze to Seth she was saddened to find his awkward smile replaced by a look of pure, wretched pain.

* * * * *

Seth watched as Sara began to stir with mixed emotions. He was elated that he had succeeded in saving her life, but fearful of what consequences his actions might have. Seth knew not if Sara would be the same person, or in her alteration had changed to something more primitive or feral like that of his wolf troops. He worried that her view of the world may have skewed, her understanding warped. Mostly Seth feared that Sara may have been altered to something less than human and that he could no longer connect with her as he had before, or for whatever reason her love for him was lost in the transformation. So watching her eyes flutter open he tried to greet her with a smile and watched as she then looked from him to around the dark chamber. Finally Sara’s gaze returned to Seth and he knew, though afraid, he needed to ascertain her current mental state.

"Hello my angel," Seth said hesitantly.

"Hi, was I gone long?" Sara replied, her throat feeling a bit hoarse.

"A day and a half, two at most. How are you feeling?" Seth asked, a tone of concern in his voice.

"I feel..." Sara paused taking note of her body. "I feel amazing. I think that somehow I have changed. I feel stronger, more complete, more...powerful."

"Really?" Seth asked and continued without waiting for a response. "I was afraid that you might have changed in a bad way. Are you sure you are OK?"

"How would I have changed?" Sara asked, worry consuming her features as well.

Seth was forced to relate the tale of how he had somehow magically transported them to this location. How without a healer he had no viable option other than trying to mend her wounds himself. He even explained to her, to the best of his ability, how he had through trial and error transformed the great bats into the likeness of human beings, and then used their life, and their amazing healing abilities, to save her life. All the while Seth apologized and begged forgiveness, swearing that as soon as he was able, he would complete the process, restoring her as best as he was able to her former position among humanity. After relating his tale, and watching Sara’s features change as her emotions swayed this way then that, Seth waited patiently for any form of response.

Several long minutes passed as Sara on several occasions looked as if to respond, then turned her gaze elsewhere within the stone room to ponder the story further. She was not angry in the least at Seth’s actions. As far as she could tell, his actions had brought forth no dire consequences. She did indeed feel amazing. Her body felt stronger, faster, even lighter than before, though she knew this could be due to not eating in a few days, along with her body burning off weight in an attempt to heal. So far as she could tell none of Seth’s fears were founded on anything at all. How could she possibly be angry with the one man she loved more than life itself for saving her? A mischievous thought coming to mind, Sara once again returned her gaze to Seth.

"How could I possibly forgive you?" Sara asked with mock disdain.

Seth could not even manage a response, his heart seemed to stop beating and fall into the pit of his stomach. Broken as surely as a glass smashed upon stone, Seth’s head fell to his chest.

"What I mean is," Sara continued, "how can I forgive something that requires no forgiveness?"

Seth raised his head, hope restored, with a huge grin beginning to spread across his face.

"If anything I must do my best to repay such a debt with both my love...and my body," Sara said, her mischievous grin parting her lips.

Without another word Sara rolled her body over, and rising to all fours, sprang at Seth like an animal stalking its prey. Defying her size and the limited space available to them, Sara lunged more gracefully than any cat Seth had ever seen, yet more powerfully than a charging bull. Pinning him to the ground with her own body, Sara began to kiss Seth both relentlessly and passionately. It was then, in the deep gloom of their chamber, that Seth realized the first of the changes in Sara. Like she had said she was stronger, even faster and more graceful than before. But with their lips locked, and their tongues fighting for dominance, Seth discovered a slight physical alteration as well. Just as in the damned bat creature he had used to restore Sara to life, the front upper canine teeth had become slightly enlarged. Not to the point to look awkward, but enough that if she were to bite down on his lip, she would surely draw blood. Seth hoped beyond hope that this slight physical alteration was the worst that he had done to Sara, though his hope would be short lived.

Chapter 5

A Solemn Return and a Dark Revelation

The solemn procession of the king’s mounted advisors and councilors, along with the many heads of various orders and the remaining Knights of Valdadore rode swiftly back to the castle city of Valdadore. Normally such a procession would be slow moving, slowed by carts burdened with the remains of the honored deceased. But having no such remains the procession raced on, ever nearing the city. Only armor, weapons and personal effects remained of the fallen king and his many honored knights who had fallen in the final blast of the battle. Much of the funeral had yet to be planned. The procession had only stopped once along the trek back home, in Raven's Hold. The men had spent but a single night within the black walls of that castle city and no decisions whatsoever had been made. The king's absence left a great void. With no one being chosen to lead in his stead, there was a vacuum at the heart of the kingdom which too many power hungry mongrels were looking to fill. Thus no funeral arrangements had been made, and many of those in the procession were in a hurry to return home, not to lay to rest the memory of their king, but to lay a foundation of followers so that they could themselves claim the throne.

Garret rode in silence upon his great white imperial steed. It was a magnificent beast whose bloodlines had been documented for centuries. These animals were bred to perfection with a precise balance of intelligence, strength and stamina. Garret and the rest of the procession were fortunate for this fact, for it was several days ride back to the city of Valdadore. After their brief stay at Raven's Hold the horses had been pushed hard, none wanting to stop for rest until within the walls of their own city. Even now Garret could see the tops of the towers in the city beginning to appear on the horizon. A few more hours at best and they would reach their destination.

Garret did not know what to expect when he reached Valdadore. His own conscience was burdened beyond belief at the loss of his king whom he was sworn to protect and his mentor Sirus, and the possible death of his brother Garret felt somehow responsible for each of the losses and as such the deaths weighed heavily upon his soul. He had already decided against sending word to his father in Vineleaf, for he still held hope that his brother lived. Garret wanted nothing more than to strike out on his own, as did Borrik the great wolf man that Seth had created to be his second-in-command. But Garret had too much responsibility to simply drop everything to go searching for his brother who may or may not still be alive. Garret clung to hope that he would be reunited with Seth some day in the near future, but knew the effort that reunited them would not be his own.

Garret had also taken upon himself the responsibility of delivering the sorrowful news to Sasha, the now widow to his fallen mentor Sirus, the proprietor of the King’s Herald inn. It was perhaps not his duty to deliver the news, but the woman had shown Garret and his companions such kindness in the past that he could not help but see to the task himself. It was a dire duty that he assigned himself to, but none the less he would perform it honorably, just as any other Knight of Valdadore would.

So much was as yet undecided, Garret feared the kingdom might fall apart. Several men were obviously setting themselves up to try and fill the position of king, but Garret somehow doubted any of them vying for the position would be able to fill the previous king's shoes. King Valdadore had been an honorable man. Blessed by the god Gorandor he had lived an unnaturally long life, and though he appeared only a man of his mid-forties or early fifties, in fact he had been reigning as king for over two centuries. Very few lived who remembered a time when he was not the king. He had been a man of true honor, who did not lead for personal gain, but instead for the better of his own people. He made laws not to enslave those under his protection, but to give them freedom and safety. Most of those with an eye on the throne now were not such men, and their reasons for wanting to rule were not near as honorable as their predecessor’s. Garret did not know if his position as a knight would hold any weight, but with Sirus and the king both fallen, as well as several other Knights of Valdadore, Garret had found himself filling a position within the king’s council. Even though at present there was no king to preside over such a council, it would be up to them, as a whole, to decide who would take up the role to lead the kingdom. Garret, much by fate, had been given a voice though he wondered, given his lack of experience, if any would hear him.

Never in his life had Garret learned anything about politics, though he reasoned he was as sound as anyone else to have a say in the kingdom’s future. Political struggle was not what the kingdom needed at present anyhow. What the kingdom needed was time to heal and a leader who would not abuse the people. Garret had a couple candidates in mind, but even so, he did not know any of them well enough to lend voice to their cause. He knew that if he was to help the kingdom, he would have to get to know every man and woman on the council, learn what ambitions drove them and discover what qualities each possessed that led the previous king to trust them. Garret had to study each of them and only then would he decide who to swear his loyalty to. Thus for the remainder of the ride to the castle gates Garret worked over every detail he could recall from every encounter he had ever had with each of the other members of the council.

Arriving at the massive southern gate to the city, a halt was called as all the council members and war advisors gathered into ranks of four to enter the city proper. Though this was to be a funeral procession through the city, there was no ornate casket drawn by gilded steeds. Instead, with a solemn mind and somber faces, the congregation rode slowly through the huge city, their heads bowed in reverence. The procession passed through streets crowded with the common people of the city who had come to witness the return of their fallen king. Word had been sent ahead of the main procession, though the messenger had barely arrived an hour before. But in a city such as this, where all the people loved their king, the news spread like wildfire. Now it seemed the entire city had come out to see the procession return. They wanted to see their fallen king one last time, but without any such remains they had gathered only to be disappointed.

Through his visor Garret could see the looks of sorrow and concern among all who had come to bear witness. Garret too felt an unease unlike anything he had ever felt before. None knew who might next sit upon the throne, yet all knew that whoever it was, they would not be as capable as King Valdadore. The entire city was unnaturally silent, all work having ceased, all shops having closed. There was a palpable tension in the air, so much so that Garret was certain he could taste it upon his lips, and he wondered if ever the city would recover from such a blow. Block after city block the slow procession was met by the silent stares of uncertainty from thousands of the city’s inhabitants, some of whom wept openly. Garret, though uncomfortable with all the faces looking upon him, found the silence warranted. Like their king, most of the people of Valdadore were silent as death, some lending their whispered prayers to the king on his journey to the afterlife. Long hours after entering the city gates, as the procession yet neared the castle proper, Garret too found himself asking Gorandor to speed the honored king on his way to the afterlife where he might yet rule again.

Inside the castle proper was like a different world compared to the city outside. Here the people paused as the procession passed, but then hurriedly returned to their duties. People rushed to and fro with their own chores and preparations. Many a messenger came to greet the lord or lady they served, welcoming them back to the city. Stable boys also gathered here outside the palace, awaiting the arrival of the many steeds ridden by the king's retinue. Here there was life, here there was movement. Garret reveled in the sounds and the chaos. Here within the castle there was purpose. Those that resided within the castle walls understood that though the king was gone, there was much to be done, more so than usual in his absence. Thus the hustle and bustle would continue, probably throughout the night too, nonstop for many days to come. Without a leader the kingdom was vulnerable and there were those who might attempt to use that vulnerability to their advantage. The council members would have to convene nearly immediately and get to work not only for the kings burial, but also in naming his successor.