Chapter Eight
The Capture
Mel and Varah step out of the portal and into darkness. The stillness is frightening at first, but then it feels comparatively peaceful after their last encounter. Unfamiliar with the surroundings, Varah turns to Mel, “Where are we?”
Mel grabs both of her hands and begins to wrap what seems like twine around them. Varah tries to back away, but, without her powers, she is no match against his strength. “What are you doing? Stop! That hurts!”
Mel stares at her. “I’m all done.” Varah looks down at her hands, eyeing the complicated knot. “Not even a Class Six witch with all her powers can get out of that.”
A frustrated Varah asks again, “Where are we?”
“We’re in The Hidden Forrest.” Mel grabs the rope and yanks it forcefully. Varah is forced to follow him.
“You don’t have to be so rough. It hurts!”
Without looking back, Mel says, “If you keep up with my stride, I won’t have to pull so hard. We don’t have much time. Hurry.”
Varah tries hard to keep up, but she stumbles over a tree root. “Where are we going? Where are you taking me? What about my kids?” Varah yells all of this insistently, but getting no response, she stops and yanks back on the rope with all her strength.
Surprised at the intensity in her force, Mel stops. He turns back to look her in the eye. “Look, I understand your frustration, but I trusted you. Now you have to trust me! If we are going to get away and escape from this Olivia, you must trust me! I’m taking you to a safe haven.”
Varah gazes into his eyes, searching for a lie, some hint of deception. Unable to find any, she hesitantly replies, “All right.”
“Good. Let’s move.”
As Varah begins to look around, she notices the thick layer of fog that shrouds even this Lower Volonia darkness. The heaviness of the thick trees compounds the effect. She feels completely bare in a strange land without the use of her powers. She looks to her left as something rustles in the bushes. She gasps.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she responds, not wanting to seem weak. She refrains from telling Mel what she saw, but her eyes shift nervously along the bushes. “Can we get a bit of light? It would make this journey a little easier.”
Mel says, “VANDUCIO VALLUR,” and a flash of light spreads out along the ground. Their path is illuminated, the light consistently stretching five feet ahead of their next step.
“Thanks.”
Unsure of her sincerity, Mel replies, “You’re welcome.”
Varah moves up closer to Mel and asks, “Can you give me some idea as to where our final destination is?”
The barrage of questions bothers Mel, but upon realizing that they’re not going to stop, he replies, “The Invisible Fortress.”
Varah repeats, “The Invisible Fortress?” She chuckles. “That’s old Volonian folklore. Impossible, it doesn’t exist!”
Insulted, Mel turns to Varah. “Is it as impossible as a Class Six witch conjuring the Vondercrat?” Varah struggles for words. “Exactly.”
“Go ahead.”
“The Invisible Fortress is a place where members of the Vamede, an army of selected Volonians, practice magic spells and prepare to protect Volonia in case we’re ever attacked. We are hand selected by the Lords and approved by the Guardians.”
“You were a part of the Vamede?”
“I am a part of the Vamede. Once a member of the Vamede, always a member of the Vamede. In order to keep everything safe and hidden, the Lords propositioned the Guardians to send us to Lower Volonia. Those Volonians had limited powers, so no one, even if they desired, could come up against us. The Guardians placed a spell on the fortress, making it invisible.”
“I’ve heard about the Vamede; my father served. He used to leave a few times a cycle when I was a little girl. My nana said he was going to bring us back gifts, but the older I became I realized he must have been part of the Vamede. I didn’t know the fortress was invisible; I thought that was just folklore.”
“You were not supposed to know. The Guardians have severe penalties to anyone who leaks that information.”
“So why are you telling me this?”
“I have a past that has haunted me for cycles. I have nothing to lose.”
Varah and Mel continue making their way through the forest. “Enough about me; what about you?
“What do you want to know?”
“Well, first and foremost I’d like to know how a Class Six witch conjured the Vondercrat.”
“I don’t know. I just repeated a spell that I remember my father saying, and it just came!” There is a long silence. “I’m sorry if my tone seems inappropriate; I just miss my kids, and I have been hearing talks of my being exiled.”
“What are their names?”
“Broc and Shenzara,” replies Varah.
“Those are unique names, different.”
“Well, as you know, no two Volonians can have the same first name, so after millions of names being chosen, you get kind of creative.”
“I know a thing or two about the Lords, and while I can’t tell you if they will exile you or not, I find it hard to believe that they would separate a mother from her kids.”
Varah breathes a sigh of relief. “Thanks, I needed to hear that. Do you know of any exiled Volonians?” she asks.
“It’s rare, but I do know a couple of exiled Volonians.” Still unsatisfied with Varah’s answer about the Vondercrat, Mel attempts to probe a bit more. “So are you going to tell me how you really conjured the Vondercrat, or do you expect me to believe that the Guardians would make it that easy for a Class Six to get a hold of it?”
Varah becomes enraged. “I’m telling the truth! If I knew that I really would have been able to do it, and that it would have led to this, I would never have repeated that spell!” Suddenly her hair starts to rise, wind begins to blow, and her eyes turn from hazel to a glowing red as she rises from the ground. Frightened, Mel backs away.
“Calm down!” he yells. Then, her Vicklor shocks her with an electric pulse, and she falls.
Mel catches Varah in his arms. “Varah! Varah, wake up!” Her eyes slowly open. Mel’s eyes sink into Varah’s. He is mesmerized by her beauty. He notices her deep, brown complexion, her long dark mane and prominent golden streak. He holds her until she has fully awakened. Weakened from the electric charge, Varah looks into Mel’s deep and troubled eyes; she is also completely entranced. She is amazed by his strength and masculinity. Enjoying the moment, she lingers in his arms, watching his beautiful veins rippling through his tight skin and along his muscular body. After a moment too long, Varah catches herself, not wanting to seem overly interested, and pulls away. Mel helps her up. There is a silence between them-- an understanding.
Mel grabs the rope, pulls her forward, and cuts the portion of the rope that binds her hands. “Follow me; we’re almost there.” Surprised by the gesture, Varah nods and begins walking at a slightly faster pace. They move together toward the invisible fortress.
As Varah and Mel near their destination, Mel notices a four-legged creature running in the distance alongside of them. It’s moving at twice their speed. He extends his hand toward Varah; she grabs it, and they begin to run. Varah looks to her left and sees three creatures moving at a ridiculously fast speed. She whispers to Mel, “We’re being chased by Mali!”
“I know, hurry!” They run faster, their hearts beating hard in their chests. The faster they run, the more the Mali duplicate in number and in speed.
“We can’t outrun them!” Varah shouts. “They duplicate based on how much fear they sense from their prey. Do you have any spells left?” she asks, panting, nearly out of breath.
“Just one,” says Mel.
“Remove my Vicklor!”
“What?” asks Mel, hardly able to breathe. “Do you think I’m insane?”
“Remove my
Vicklor! Your last spell can’t handle all the Mali, but my powers can!” Realizing he has no other choice if he wants to escape, Mel looks around. The Mali are closing in on them. Their vicious yellow teeth drip at the sight of a delicious meal. They close in, snapping their powerful jaws at the pair. Their sleek white fur and purple eyes zero in, ready to charge. “Do it!” yells Varah.
“VENVENTI VEREAR!” Mel shouts, regretting the words as they pass his lips. Her neck device drops to the ground. The Mali close in, now only inches away from Mel’s face. Their breath is hot.
Varah rubs her neck and immediately chants, “VANDISCO BARRE VAONDULVO VON!” The ground shakes. Mel and Varah rise off the ground, but not before one of the Mali lunges, sinking its jaws into Mel’s leg.
“My leg! Ahhhh!” screams Mel. Varah’s eyes turn from hazel to glowing red. Her hair rises on her head. Mel screams again, “Ahhhh!” The pain is piercing. He doesn’t know what’s happening. His skin turns from its golden brown to a dull, dark grey. He holds his leg trying to keep the blood from seeping out as he rises from the ground. The wind blows fiercely and the Mali jumps in the air, snapping their fangs. Some are on the ground fighting over the chunk of flesh ripped from Mel’s leg.
Varah shouts, “VENYATI VALLOW!” and the ground beneath them swallows up the Mali. The predators vanish one by one, howling as they disappear beneath Lower Volonia. “VENYATI VOWN,” Varah chants. The two descend back to the ground. Varah lands gracefully while Mel lands with a thump. The wind ceases, and the ground stops shaking. Varah, her eyes still flickering red, turns to Mel. His leg is bleeding and his skin is slowly draining of its color. Varah quickly floats toward him and wraps her hands around his neck. “VENYATI VAYEAL,” she whispers.
A sharp pain penetrates Mel’s neck. He lets out a piercing scream. He looks at Varah and moans, “I trusted you,” his last words before he falls to the ground, completely lifeless.
If you have enjoyed the Volonians: Part 1
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Volonians: Mysteries of the Vondercrat Part 2
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