by David Yazel
The Blight had decimated the valley in recent months, leaving every farm with failing crops and tainted water. While other valleys were on the edge of starvation, with Thom’s help the small farming community of Small Haven had been able to stem the tide of total disaster, and produce enough food for the coming winter and seed for spring planting.
For years the small farming community had listened with open skepticism at Thom`s fanciful stories of the magic academy he claimed to have attended in his youth, laughing politely at the small magics he had shown them in the way of proof. Although they all thought him a little eccentric, they respected his capabilities as a farmer, and if he wanted to believe he was a Mage then, well, that was a small price to pay for the wheat, rye and corn his farm produced with such abundance.
When the Blight started ravaging the crops in the valley, Thom sent off a query to the Magicians Guild, some four days walk to the west in the city of Forbecca, asking them if they had any suggestions in dealing with this unknown malady. The answer came back in the form of a dream, telling him in precise detail how to combat the Blight and purify the crops and water.
Since then Thom had hardly known a moments peace, for while the spell was a relatively simple one, only a Mage could use it. So day after day he trudged from one farm to another and performed the spell on well and the fields, while the farmers took turns tending his farm, so that his sacrifice would not cause the ruin of his own crops.
He smiled as he thought about the dinner his wife was making at their home, his stomach growling in anticipation of sitting down to even that simple fare. While food was not in abundance this year, Brianna could make mutton taste like the finest meal produced in the fancy city inns.
"Mama says it time for dinner," said a small voice behind him. Surprised, he turned around to find his son sitting contentedly on the stone wall which bordered the field.
He grinned, "You are getting better at sneaking up on me every time, Darial." He moved over to the wall and sat down heavily. "It has been a long day today and a hot one too."
His son looked at him solemnly, "I don`t think the last cast took, Da." He pointed to the last row in the field.
Thom looked out on the field where his son was pointing and then back down. "Why do you say that?"
"It still feels bad." Darial jumped down and stuck his hand into the soil at the end of the row, "The dirt is sick."
Thom had learned to trust his son`s intuition about plants and soil, although it still amazed him that at the age of six his son could have such a gift. Darial would make an incredible farmer in time and if the gift grew into anything more substantial perhaps he could apply to the Magic Academy. "Like father like son," he thought to himself and then jumped down to join his son, wincing as the dull aches in his legs and back reasserted themselves. As they walked along the path back to their homestead he thought about how lucky he was with his lot in life.
Dinner that night was a cheerful occasion, filled with good smells and hearty food. While he listened with one ear to his wife talk about town gossip he noticed that Darial had a troubled look on his face and kept glancing at the door.
"What’s wrong, Darial?" has asked and silence fell around the table as husband and wife regarded their little boy.
"The bad man is coming tonight, Da."
Thom looked steadily at his son, "Now son, you know those are just bad dreams you have been having. Nightmares. No one is going to come tonight."
Darial looked down at the table for a minute and then back up at his father. "He’s coming tonight. I know he is. He told me."
Thom sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I’ll tell you what. I will put an extra special warding around the house tonight, OK?"
Darial smiled, "Can I help? Please?"
Thom laughed. "Of course, lets get to it, its almost bed-time."
Later that night Thom was haunted by a dark dream such like he had never had. A formless terror stalked him across an endless plane in twilight. No matter how fast he ran, he could feel a cold and heartless malignancy drawing closer with every step. On and on he ran in eerie silence, even his gasping seemed muted. When he could flee no farther, he stopped and confronted his pursuer, swinging to a stop, his chest heaving and shuddering as he pulled the thin air into his lungs.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT!", he screamed into the darkness. A mocking echo was his only response. A swirling eddy of darkness hung before him and pulsated with power and hate, like some miasma of evil intent. He could feel it leaching the strength from his body and soul, stripping away the last vestiges of his courage and resolve.
He sensed more than saw the blow coming toward him and barely managed to invoke a circle of protection before the psychic bolt slammed onto his shield. With barely more than a whimper the hastily erected shield flared once and then died, dissipating as the power overwhelmed his meager magical reserves. He was flung off his feet; energy coursing through his body, tearing at his mind and flesh. He screamed once before darkness took him...
Darial screamed and woke. It was pitch black in his room and in sudden fright he dove under the covers.
"Thom! Thom!" He heard his mother’s terrified voice in the other room. Jumping from bed he ran into his parent’s room. His father was lying on the bed with his mother leaning over him, shaking him. "Thom, wake up! Thom!"
Darial ran up to the bed and looked at his dad. Thom was flushed and a heavy sweat covered him. His eyes were closed but his head swung back and forth, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. All of the sudden Thom went rigid, as if every muscle in his body clenched.
Darial started crying. He had never seen his father like this before. He backed away from the bed, staring at his father and anxious mother.
Suddenly there was a ripping sound and a crack appeared from floor to ceiling in the air behind his mother. As she whipped around, the rent slowly widened, flames spewing out to lick greedily at room around it. She shrieked and stumbled backward, staring in terror as something moved within the flames.
A pair of hands reached out of the inferno and grasped both edges of the opening, slowly pulling them apart and widening the gap.
Darial and his mother stood paralyzed in fright as a horrible thing stepped through the opening. It was something out of a nightmare, red and scaly and smoke pouring off in billows. It stood seven feet high, grossly male, with a vicious barbed tail and upward curving horns on his forehead. He paused for a second and glanced around, taking in the terrified family. He smiled, showing a mouthful of teeth and a long forked tongue which flicked in and out as if testing the air.
"Darial, run!" Brianna screamed and snatched up a poker from the fireplace, heaving it with all her strength at the creature. With a casual wave, the monster batted the poker out of the way and in a single leap bounded across the room. His tail, arrowing over his shoulder, impaled her in the chest. She clutched futily at herself as her life’s blood drained from her body and splattered onto the floor. Cruel yellow eyes watched dispassionately as she died and then with a single flick of his tail sent her body hurdling across the room to smash like a broken doll against the wall.
Darial was still screaming when a blow to his forehead send him spiraling into darkness.
