[Authoress’s Notes:

[Alright, well, ask and ye shall receive!  It was requested that I start writing about some of my past lives.  And so, I do.

[Summary:  Lady Rhisaba has been endowed with the Power – an inborn special gift only a few have.  She is called upon to help defend her country and her people from the encroaching danger of the Shadow army; the sorcerer Phros and his minions are plotting the takeover of the whole realm of Veschet.  Along the way, Rhisaba meets true friends and makes deadly enemies – and that’s before she even joins the Resistance army!

[I may add a glossary of terms if it becomes necessary.  Let me know if things get confusing.

[Anyone who’s read my Days of the Alliance may notice some striking similarities.  Well, yeah.  There are reasons for that.

[All of Lady Béla’s journal entries *ought* to be in italics to set them apart from “real time”.  However, ffn hates me, and so that may not always upload properly.

[Read on, intrepid explorer…]

Shadows Falling

Prologue

Excerpts from the journals of Lady BélaVortei 12, Hask 36

I fear the Shadows spread yet again.

This autumn has been cooler than usual, and the leaves began changing color weeks earlier than they ought to have.  Yet all this I would have dismissed as climate changes, were it not for the strange winds out of the north.  The summer thunderstorms have given way to increasingly volatile hailstorms, with thunder and lightening such as has not been seen in centuries.  They are as unpredictable as the fury from which I believe they come.  And so I fear for the lands to my north.

The Citadel is protected, I know this.  Nothing could penetrate our defenses, not even Phros and his damned armies.  But if the lands under my protection fall to the Shadows, then I am Lady of no land, and a Lady of no land is a Lady in title only.  I can not allow this terror to continue.  But what to do?  The citizens, I know, will not accept my help.  They will tell me that their warriors have beaten back the Shadows for centuries without the help of my Sisters, and they will foolishly charge on into battle.  And I fear they will be leading themselves to slaughter.

I must review the records.  I must find one suitable for the task.  I know they are out there, those that would not come to the Citadel, those whose power is untapped and untrained.  Yet I believe it will take one of them to get through to these people, who so easily dismiss myself and my Sisters as practitioners of simple witchcraft.  One of their own must lead them.

For the time being, I shall review the records, and keep a close watch over Veschet.  I will monitor the winds from Temors and see that the Shadows do not spread.  I must be prepared.  We must be prepared, for the worst.  It may be that we Sisters must come to Veschet’s aid, welcome or not.  For I will not see the continent fall to the Shadows again, not after these good people have flourished for so long.

Unsil 9, Hask 36

I ought to have acted faster.  I ought to have put out a warning call.  Even if the general populace had not heeded my warning, there would have been some who listened, some who would have been prepared.  Yet now Veschet is thrown into turmoil.  It is worse than in previous years.  Such a Shadow storm has not been seen in many, many generations.  Truly, the past few comings have been so mild, in comparison, that these people have been made soft by the experiences of their predecessors.  And now I fear for their children…

I must not dwell on what could be.  I must be strong, and focus on the task at hand.  I believe I have found one who can complete my task… but convincing the bearer of this may prove difficult.

I have no time to dally.  The Temorsan hoards have already spread into Ferya.  The poor Feryans are always the most susceptible to Temorsan invasion—the Aberdan Swamp may be difficult for caravans and trade routes, but the Shadow armies certainly have no trouble barging through.  They approach Ludic steadily, and though the Feryan armies fight valiantly, I do not believe they will be successful.  They are unprepared to face such a terror.  These warriors are unhardened, are green to battle.  And I do not have time to act before they will reach Ludic.  They have already crossed the Tybryth River.  It is only a matter of days.

Unsil 20, Hask 36

Ferya has fallen.  The capital at Ludic is under Temorsan control, and the streets are overrun by Shadows.  Though my messengers have not yet reached the Citadel—and indeed may never, if the Shadow archers catch them—I have seen the fall through the glass.  And I could do nothing to stop it.

The army has halved itself.  They seem to think that the vast Miath forest and Kontil canyons would be too difficult a journey, and I am inclined to agree.  The Shadow armies may be fleet of foot, but they are not as agile nor as steady as they might be.  Theirs are not feet for scaling cliffs.  As for the Miath… I suppose they fear it for the same reasons the Amarians do.  There are no Amarian villages within miles of the forest’s edges, and only two paths cross from the Amarian edge into Tailin.  There are rumors there of an evil darker and more primal than anything Phros could hope to conjure or control.  Some even say it feeds on the Shadows as readily as on human flesh.  For myself, my mirrors can not see into that darkness, and I am glad of it.

I am deeply saddened by the loss at Ludic.  History shall forgive me no more than I shall forgive myself if I do not stop this onslaught before it is too late.  They press north of Amaria, back through Temors and towards the Tailin border.  I believe they mean to cross the mountains and over the Alienor River to take the capital at Kelth.  I have sent messengers far and wide to warn the people of Tailin and Amaria of this danger.  I can only hope they arrive in time.

As to my search for the bearer… there are several options.  I am pursuing all of them.  The faithful across Veschet still listen to me, and are on the lookout for the chosen few.  But these few are far between, and I fear they may not be tracked down until it is too late.  I, of course, can not leave the Citadel.  Not in this time of danger.  Were something to happen to me now, there would be no force on any plane strong enough to contain Phros and his demonic power.

Fara 1, Hask 37

The Tailin forces are holding back their oppressors valiantly.  I continue to hope that they may be able to beat back the Shadows entirely, as they have in years past.  It is hard not to hope at the dawning of a new year.  But it is a slim hope.  The Tailin armies have suffered heavy losses in their past few battles with the Temorsan forces, and it is no small wonder.  The Shadows are faster and more fierce than ever before.  And I can not get an accurate report as to their nature.  The Shadows are never constructed the same way twice—I presume that Phros knows that the humans learn the Shadows’ tricks and adapt, so Phros finds new ways to attack them every coming.  I have heard many things from my messengers—that they are gray-skinned, that they are faceless, that they have scaled backs and skin that oozes like a frog’s, that they have talons that can rip a human’s spine out through the throat… I can only hope the most extreme of these are not true, for the sake of any and all the poor victims.

Fara 28, Hask 37

Half of Veschet is now under the control of the Temorsan barbarians.  The Shadows have yet to cross the Alienor, but several of the Tailin leaders have been killed.  They have lost all sense of government.  Tailin has fallen into anarchy—what part of the land is not under Temorsan control is now lawless.

Yet hope persists.  A strong faction has sprung up.  They call themselves the Veschetan Resistance, though they are more accurately the Tailin Resistance.  For Ferya has neither the spirit nor the warriors to join a Resistance, and the Amarians do not seem to care.  This has driven me near to infuriation with my own people.  They seem to think that if they let the situation alone long enough, then the Tailini and the Feryans will push back the demons, and life will return to normal.  They do not seem to realize what danger they are in.  Not only that, but their apathy is harming their neighbors.  Again and again, I watch the Tailin emissaries beg for help, imploring the Amarian oligarchy to send aid.  The nobles offer condolences and promise to send help as soon as they can, and then they return to their business as usual.

However, I am in contact with one of the leaders of the Resistance.  While she is not among the chosen, does not have the power, she is willing to seek out those who do.  She is willing to demand the aid promised to the Resistance by the Amarian nobles.  I admire her that.  For now, she is my truest emissary.  My trust, for the moment at least, is in her.