The Killing Dreams

Demise of the Innocent

Chapter 20

Demise of the Innocent

"This way," whispered a figure swathed in black, a raven-sheen vale concealing her face, leaving only the eyes uncovered. She kept stride with a well-dressed man, advanced in years, who looked to be a scholar. With a lit torch leading the way, the two nocturnal wanderers traversed the dark till the woman in black pointed to a structure in the distance.

"In there?" asked the man, pausing at the sight of the crumbling keep before him. "They say nothing but evil lives in Oaladrawn since the Earl of Breen disappeared."

"Superstition," spoke the clandestine lady in her seductive voice. "Don't let such tales frighten you. One can not explore the mysteries of magic without first exploring the keep."

"I suppose your right, but perhaps we are moving a bit fast. I only said wizards fascinate me, not that I wish to become one."

The cloaked figure moved closer to her companion and reached out with slender, naked arms, caressing the man's hunched shoulders. "Wizardry may not be for you, but unless you try, how will you know? A learned man like yourself shouldn't shun such opportunities."

"I still don't understand how you even talked me into doing this, but if the tome you speak of can truly prevent the nightmares from returning, then perhaps I should at least try to invoke its powers." He turned to her, the summer heat, even at night, caused trickles of sweat to stream down his face. "How can you stand being clothed so. Aren't you uncomfortable?"

Concealed from mortal sight, the woman smiled from under her vale and only glint-glassy eyes reflected her mirth. "The heat makes me think of home. I find it quite pleasant."

The old man chuckled. "Pleasant? This heat? Maybe in winter, perhaps." His gaze met hers, and suddenly he felt his blood stir (a sensation he had not experienced in quite some years). He shivered in spite of the heat. 'A young man's fancy,' he thought to himself, dismissing the notion. "How strange you make me feel, my lady. If it weren't for my good sense, I'd say you were from the realm of the supernatural."

This time the woman's eyes did not reflect mirth but a sinister delight that could not be hidden.

"Come. The moon rises. I have much to show you."

"What's your hurry, lass," puffed the man, climbing over a pile of rubble that had sloped from a rent in the keep's outer wall.

"In here. Come." She pointed to an open book on a stone altar. Two burning braziers sat before the rock-hewn structure.

"How did they come to be lit?" he asked, pointing to the flaming pots.

"It matters not," answered his strange companion. "You'll need light to read the tome. Think of it as divine intervention, or fated to be, if you must."

"But how or who lit them," protested the scholar. "Are you telling me how it came to be doesn't concern you?"

"Of course it does, but there's no time to worry about that," hissed the woman in vexation. "If you're to end the nightmares, you must read from those pages."

The man's eyes went to the tome then back to her.

"Hurry you old fool," she said anxiously.

"What was that?" exclaimed the scholar, straightening his stiff back.

The woman gritted her teeth in anger, for excitement and anticipation had nearly ruined everything. With her poorly chosen words spoken, it was clear that this pawn would not be coaxed without an added incentive. Making sure her victim had his eyes set upon her, she disrobed. Her vale she cast aside, but the rest she just let fall to the ground in a heap. The woman was no mere mortal, but Essa. She was not in her fiery form, but in the sinful façade which men desire and few could deny.

The scholar stared, his heart thumping faster and faster as lust filled his soul. Reason and good sense ebbed until carnal thoughts were all that was left to him. She smiled satisfactorily. He was smitten and fully malleable now, and she knew it.

Brushing fingertips along the curves of her body, she gazed at him seductively. "To claim this, all you have to do is invoke the powers locked within those pages. I know the carnal pleasure men crave, and I also know how to satisfy it. Do as I ask and you'll have no doubts, nor need to. That I promise."

Moistening his lips, the man slowly approached the tome, all the while keeping his gaze upon the demon. Reluctantly he turned his eyes from her to the book before him. "Darkness free thee; Darkness shroud thee; Darkness take hold and aid thee." His skin started to prickle and itch; yet he did not pause to scratch. Soon that itch became a burning sensation, and still he went on. "Fire bind to fright; Fright embrace the night." Blood trickled from his nose and ears, and when the pain became to great he looked towards the demon for help with blood-soaked eyes. Essa urged him on reassuringly. Hesitantly and with much effort he continued. "And with this... entwine a dark kiss." Feeling his hands twitch with pain, he raised them up for examination. Soon the twitching and burning caused his whole body to contort. He feebly tried to finish the last words but could not.

Essa reached for him but not out of pity or concern. She needed him, needed him to live and complete the ritual. With the touch of her hand, the pain-stricken fellow grinned as if torment had suddenly become a twisted pleasure. With new effort he shouted out the remaining words, then began to convulse. Smoke wafted from his body, and as it thickened, flames engulfed him. He wailed in pain, and in his fitful throws, knocked the tome from the altar.

Essa's form slumped visibly as the scholar's flaming body finally collapsed to the ground. It was a heavy blow for the demon. It had not been easy to find someone who could possibly perform the ritual. As if defeat were not bad enough, Essa cringed at the cackling coming from over her shoulder. Turning, she faced Nayvalyan who had stepped from the shadows and into the light cast by the burning braziers.

"Did you really think that would work, my dear Essa?" he wheezed.

Essa balled her fists in anger. "How dare you," she snapped. "You have no right to interfere."

"And how have I interfered?" asked the wizard, slowly bringing his mirth under control.

"You know very well what I'm talking about."

"Oh, so you think it was I who burnt that poor fellow? If you want to accuse someone, accuse yourself. That was your doing."

"My doing. I didn't want him to burn."

"Indeed not," replied Nayvalyan sarcastically. "And what did you think would happen when a mind unprepared for the strain of magic attempts it?" He stooped to recover the tome. "No my sweet, there are no shortcuts; no work around." A wicked smile formed on the wizard's face. "Without me the realm of dreams will be forever out of your reach. Let this serve as a lesson." He snapped the book shut, emphasizing his words, then disappeared into the dark.