Druan Episode 2: Dark Water

By Mark Robson

Darkness consumed the world for centuries, under thick black clouds that blocked the sun. Without light, the plants withered and died, and the animals starved. Few survived in this wasteland of night. With a final, desperate effort, the shamans gathered together to form a great chant. They gave their lives to open the clouds and let sunlight shine back on the world.

When the scattered remnants of humanity step from the dark, with nothing but their wits and the waning power of an old shaman to protect them, they are faced with a cracked, lifeless desert. Led by a child, guided by the spirits, their deeds will become myth.

To survive, they must train a new generation of shamans to face the coming dangers. Thirteen students to guide the people into a new age. And, of those students, two young sisters will grow to stand at the heart of a legend.

Each episode is written as a short story, to be read in a few hours, but together they tell the story of two sisters growing up in a new world and facing responsibilities and dangers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark Robson
• Release date: Oct 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370528868

Book preview

Druan Episode 2: Dark Water

By Mark Robson

Copyright 2016 Mark Robson

Smashwords Edition

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Cover Art by Alan Mence

Cover Text by James Eden

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Autumn

The Age of the Sun, Year One.

Darkness embraced it with a mother’s comfort. Water cocooned it in a lover’s embrace. It drifted through the shallows, shrouded by night and silence.

Clouds hung low overhead, a soothing roof after the gaping vastness of day. Without the moon and its glittering field of stars, the world was so much closer, so much more intimate.

A curving wall of reeds reached across its vision, following the stretch of the shore. Beyond, through waving gaps, short grass glowed around crackling fires. Laughing shadows flitted across flickering light. Voices echoed across still water. Food was passed and drink was spilt. Shouts and clapping rose into the night.

Its stomach growled. Patience.

Two shapes moved away from the fires. Hand in hand, talking softly, they strolled with carefree gait down to the shore.

It tracked their shadows through the reeds, keeping pace with slow sweeps of its limbs. Wide eyes, so used to the dark, watched from the brim of the water. Nostrils flared, breathed in the smells of the lake.

They stopped by a gap in the reeds, as it knew they would. They moved closer together. Whispers and giggling. Suddenly the shorter one, the female, broke away and ran to the water's edge. With a quick glance back at the male, she peeled her thin dress over her head and threw it aside. She waded into the water, squealing at the cold.

Wait. Not yet.

The female turned, up to her neck in black water, and called to her companion. He shook his head. Her voice became mocking, insistent, and then promising. Eventually he shrugged out of his tunic and stepped gingerly into the water, calling out as the cold bit his skin.

He sank to his shoulders with a splash. He spluttered, regained his footing, waded forward and reached for her. She swam away, laughing, and he pursued. They met in the dark beyond the shallows, drew close, kissed.

Soon. It floated by the reeds, shrouded by deep night.

The female pulled away, turned back to shore, her small feet kicking out. The male treaded water for a moment. He called to her, laughing, as she hauled her slim frame out of the lake. She sat on the grass and beckoned him closer, her bare arm pale in the dark. The male hesitated, arms circling through the water.

Now.

It took a breath and sank beneath the surface. Sound reduced to murmurs behind the bubbling swirl of water. The darkness was absolute. Above, voices seeped thinly through the surface. Calls, taunting each other, oblivious. The position of its prey was marked. It swam forward, sure, relentless and deadly.

Pressure and sound up ahead, and then the barest sensation of a shape moving back and forth. Legs, treading water. It closed, heart rate rising as the thrill of the hunt took over.

It grabbed the leg, wrapped itself around the knee. The male thrashed, panicked, churned the water. Too late. Far too late. A foot slammed into its shoulder, and again. It bit down hard on the male's thigh. Blood filled its mouth, warm and thick.

They sank together, wrapped in a fatal embrace. Down into the deep. Down into the welcoming cold and black. It heard more than saw the stream of bubbles leaving the male's mouth in a drowning scream. He twitched, futile. It felt the strength drain from its prey. Then stillness.

Triumph. It exulted. The bloody taste of victory made its heart pound with raw delight. Blissful cold darkness clung to its limbs as it floated, submerged, its desire to kill sated for the present.

Slowly, silently, it broke the surface. The dead body bobbed face-down on the dark waves nearby. It took a long, deep breath.

Heavy clouds hung low overhead. A gentle breeze teased its face and coaxed the water into lapping waves. Peace.

It took hold of the corpse and began to swim. Blood in the water would attract other creatures and it had no desire to share. There was a place nearby, a safe place, where it could feast.

The forlorn cries of the female echoed across the water.

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Bare feet kicked up dust. Lungs burned. She ran, arms and legs pumping, pushing faster, faster. Heart pounding wildly, hair streaming behind, breath sharp and fast, she flew.