Chapter 34 Calder
CALDER
Forest of Fear, Skalor
With unsteady steps, the Iss Drengr forges into the Forest of Fear. Aura’s head of copper curls bounces away, leaving him with a further uneasy sense of what will come.
Legends state that these trials remain in the forest as long as the pilgrim can maintain a logic-bound headspace. If only the mere thought of confronting his fears did not constrict his throat, leaving him struggling to breathe.
Each crunch of the snowy forest floor dims the light of his surroundings until a wave of blackness crashes over him.
His heart pounds against his ribcage as it threatens to burst at the abrupt shift in his environment.
“Aura!” The panic in his tone renders his voice unnaturally higher-pitched.
They are safe in the Forest of Fear. Makt and Lavinia are unwelcome here.
He spins in a vain attempt to make sense of the dark area until he falls face-first onto a plush red carpet.
Hesitantly, he lifts his head and, to his horror, finds himself in the entry hall of Nightwall Keep.
No… he shakes his head. This is impossible. I am in the Forest of Fear.
Pushing to his feet, he takes a few shaky breaths to compose himself. His hands quake at his side as a thousand possibilities race through his head.
Even though the logical solution is that he is still within the woods.
With no way to turn back, he twists through the cold corridors of his personal Abyss, wondering what revulsion the Norn will force him to confront.
As he follows the familiar stone passages shrouded in vivid tapestries of Skalor’s history and landscape, the tightness intensifies in his chest.
Will this end with Lavinia?
His ex-wife?
Makt?
Or Avard, whom he has failed above all others?
Mahogany locks with streaks of white flash out of the corner of his eye, jolting his gut as the Queen’s recognizable hair taunts him with her presence. The faint sound of her laugh raises the tiny hairs along the back of his neck.
I must move through this delusion without losing my mind.
His mantra does little to assuage the brewing disquiet under the surface. The sensation of someone watching him from afar grips what little stability remains within him. There must be a way out—a back door to the woods.
Am I still in the Forest of Fear? Is this all in my mind?
A pinch on his forearm assures him he is not asleep, and all he sees is as real as any day.
The crackling of a fire draws him to the next cracked door. A peek inside reveals the same vaulted space where Lavinia placed the bounty on Aura’s life.
When the door bangs off the wall, a child runs out.
“Papa!” The little boy cries, clutching his leg with a heartbreaking amount of despair for someone of no more than five winters.
“It's okay, boy. Why are you here?” Calder kneels, regretting the decision.
It is like turning back time and gazing into a mirror—the boy bears the same dark hair color and icy eyes as himself.
Yet his nose and mouth are slightly off, yet familiar.
Nothing about this boy resembles his late son, whose straw-colored hair and brown eyes resembled those of his mother, Calder’s ex-wife.
However, the mere existence of this child, even in his mind, feels like a gut punch, and he struggles to understand why the ache from the boy’s bright eyes haunts him so profoundly.
“I couldn’t find you, Papa. Then someone in a cloak took Mama!” Tears stream down the boy’s snot-filled face as Calder hugs him tightly as if he might vanish. He lifts his tiny form into his arms, feeling that same connection with the child he lost so long ago.
This cannot be real. I have no other children.
“You don’t know who took your mother?” Calder asks, already sensing the evil force hunting them.
The little boy rubs his tiny forearm under his nose. “They laughed when they took Mama.” He buries his face into Calder’s tunic.
He holds the young boy, reveling in the foreign warmth clutching his heart. “We will find your Mama,” Calder promises.
After setting him carefully back on the floor and taking his small hand, they abandon the room in favor of navigating the empty corridors.
Dammit, I will protect him even if he is not real.
Taunting laughter echoes off the cold walls. As the young child clings to his leg again, he recognizes a heightened panic rush through him.
The safety of this boy is everything.
I cannot let her have him—not this time.
Calder leads them through the Keep without a set direction. He has no sense of what he must accomplish to end this nightmare. The only action he can take is to trust his gut instincts. Allowing them to usher him around each fork in their path.
As they near the dungeons, a monstrous statue of Makt looms over them, eliciting a scream from the boy. Calder turns him away, pressing his face into his chest so he can no longer witness the god’s manipulative smile.
“He makes me want to scream, too.” He ruffles the boy’s mahogany hair. “What is your name?”
“Ludo.” He whispers as if it’s a secret.
“Let’s keep moving to find your Momma, Ludo.”
When he opens the dungeon door, he uncovers a young girl–likely the same age as Ludo. Her sobs shatter his icy heart as she tears across the room, fleeing from a cloaked figure surrounded by a black void.
Calder’s internal dread intensifies at the sight of the little girl whose curls bounce with every step. He rushes in, scoops her up, and slams the door on the creature.
“Papa! You found me!” She hugs his neck, leaving his heart a mess of emotions he can’t identify. “The void took Mama!” She pants into his shoulder as if she has been running the course of her young life.
A sudden realization grips him. Why are they calling me Papa?
The little girl’s facial features are hauntingly familiar. Even her curls twirl in such a way that he cannot deny.
His mouth dries at the sight.
Could these be Aura and I’s future…No, I am sure they are not. That is not the purpose of this trial.
“What is your name?” He cannot help himself.
“Addie.”
“Addie, we must get to safety. You and Ludo stay close.”
He holds her tiny figure against his side while Ludo takes his hand.
With all the confusion, he has managed to turn them around. Somehow, the corridors change, rematerializing until he is sure he has entered an endless hallway.
Calder cannot shake the feeling that this is real as he leads them through the ever-changing foyers.
No, these children are a figment of my mind. His ongoing chant ceases to feel genuine, especially as their warm, trembling bodies seem undeniably real.
Addie’s determined expression sends a chill down his spine. He knows that look, and he dares not speak aloud whose expression that belongs to.
I cannot allow harm to befall these children.
It’s as if a part of his soul has been brought to the surface to shield them from whatever horror lurks in these desolate halls.
Calder carefully rounds a corner and is met again with the cloaked figure and its endless darkness.
The children scream for his help and bury their faces into him.
Calder turns them away, charging away rather than fight it.
But the creature is faster, pursuing them while the disturbing scent of lilies and death descends on them.
A twisted combination that takes him back to a time when he had seen as few winters as his mythical children.
The creature nearly overcomes them, but Calder slides down a corridor at the final moment.
A collapsed suit of arms lies in pieces on the floor. The sword point catches along his leg, slicing across his skin. Blood pools from the cut, furthering his belief in the reality of this vision.
He leans against the stone wall, setting Addie on the ground with Ludo while he assesses himself.
“Papa?” Addie tugs on his pant leg. “I want to find Mama and go home.”
Abandoning his bleeding cut, he picks them up and moves along.
Calder slows his gait and carefully considers their states. They both close their bright blue eyes, leaning their tiny foreheads against his chest. He squeezes them both, his heart accepting them as his own.
I will not allow that bitch to take my children.
He stops beside a bench with a mirror centered above and places the young ones on the seat.
Calder glances around, attempting to understand his bearings, but his reflection does not track his movements.
He turns to the mirror to watch himself smirk. “Hello, Calder.”
The voice is a terrible combination of his and Makt’s.
“What do you want?” he snarls at the reflection.
“This,” his mirror self gestures around, “I need your body. You will permit me, my son.”
Calder edges closer. “I will destroy my body before allowing you to take it.”
Calder smashes the mirror with his fist.
Lavina’s cackle answers in that manner that sends a wave of dread through his soul.
As if the effort pains him, he turns to look down the corridor.
The Queen of Skalor restrains his children’s hands as they call him to rescue them.
“Release my children!” Outrage fills every bit of his being as he helplessly watches her retreat. His children scream for him, crying for their Papa.
“Perhaps if you will not open yourself to Makt,” she taunts, “then maybe your children will. Or your pretty princess. I have her, too.”
He charges down the hall, abandoning all rational thought. Somehow, she evades him, moving farther away into the castle with Ludo and Addie.
Not again!
He cannot speak.
He cannot breathe.
His chest spasms, and he drops to his knees, clutching at his heart that refuses to beat.
Not again.
Not again.
Not again.
After everything, he will not lose his children to her again. He vowed never to be a father again. To never place a child at risk of maltreatment and neglect, as Lavinia and Makt had sought before.
This madness dies with him.
He touches his cheek to find tears burning their way to the surface as his mind refuses to form a cohesive thought. His heart is giving out as his body fights against his need to protect his children.
They deserve better than him.