Shadowlands #1 - Prologue

25 Apr 2024

Everybody has something that sustains them, something that breathes life into their soul, something that gives them a reason to wake up in the morning, something that makes them excited like nothing else can. For some beings it’s music, for others it’s love and others it’s plants.

I’ve observed though that most don’t even know why these things tickle their fancy or rock their worlds; they just do, but there needs to be no other explanation. And before I go off on a rambling tangent (which I tend to do) I’ll get to my point;

If you are lucky enough to know the thing that stirs up passion from the very core and roots of you, run with it. Never ever fight it or question it. Instead pour your heart into it, live it, breath it, become it; because if you do, at the end of things when your soul is being inspected and prepared for the great recycling of creation… well… let’s just say you’ll be a lot better off for it and believe me; I know about these things.

My passion lies in stories, particularly in books and I am their guardian. That is my purpose. But stories don’t only need protecting, they need to be shared, they need to be told and books need to be read, so seeing as how you’re obviously itching for a story so let’s dive right on in…

It was raining very heavily when he left the portal. His newly installed clockwork gears weren’t used to these conditions and it made flight difficult. He weaved through the dark skies with the imprecision of a creature who’s just stumbled out of a tavern after spending too much time inside. Howling winds battered into him mercilessly making the cradle grasped between his metal hands rock back and forth wildly. Dark muddy rain obscured his vision which he hadn’t even gotten used to before he’d left the base. You’ll be fine they told him, everything’s been tested again and again and besides; none of the other Minions had reported any defects. You just need some time to get used to the changes that’s all.

He believed them, but it still didn’t make him trust the new steam driven doo-hickies that had so hastily replaced his old muscles and tissues. Cogs, wheels, chains and springs were soldered and attached in places they never should have gone, something didn’t feel right. But that was the job. Upgrades they called them.

He soldiered on through the horrendous weather as best he could. Glad at least that the new upgrades prevented him from smelling the putrid airs of this particular realm. He had never liked delivering here, with it’s foul fog and cancerous clouds. He preferred brighter realms, not those covered in dread inflicting shadow and darkness. Not that he could actually feel dread, but if he could he knew it was here he would feel it more so than ever.

The wind ripped into him viciously sending him spinning uncontrollably for a few seconds. Mechanical cogs inside his head buzzed clicked and grated as he struggled to regain balance, when suddenly the worst thing imaginable on a delivery happened.

Violent forks of lightning slashed through the air with ravenous hunger and immediately incinerated his flight path. His whole body rattled and shook savagely. His vision exploded and a spring from somewhere within his gripping mechanism sprung loose disappearing into the darkness. Damn how he hated upgrades, he shot a glance at what was until very recently a beautiful grass covered hand noticing the ultimate disaster; he had lost his grip on the cradle.

Panic set in and still surging with electricity from the lightning he rocketed downwards, the way ahead strangely illuminated by his now glowing metal frame. But there were no signs of his precious cargo. He tried to listen for a scream, a rushing of wind, anything, but all he could hear were those blasted cogs whizzing and whirling erratically inside his steam powered head. He told them something was wrong but would they listen? And now they’d unmake him for this. Send him back to The Undertakers to be used as scrap.

But just as all seemed lost more lightning flashed lighting up the sky and he caught a glimpse of movement to his right. It wasn’t much but it was enough, he propelled himself towards it with all the strength he could and managed by some miracle to fly just underneath the falling cradle as it crashed into his head. He fumbled around trying to steady himself. You can hover in mid air now they had told him, one of the advantages of the latest upgrade, he had mistrusted the idea but for some bizarre reason it worked for him and he floated in the middle of the storm, the cradle rocking precariously on his dented helmet.

Slowly, slowly he raised his unbroken hand and gripped onto the handle firmly and gently, gently lowered it down to peer inside. Hoping with every steam powered inch of him that the contents were still intact. He didn’t know much about new cubs, or pups or whatever they were called. He hadn’t been on the delivery routes for long, or had he? He’d been finding things hard to remember of late. He knew they should be in one piece though and this one still was.

It was hard to see it in the darkness, except for the deep glinting eyes staring back at him. It wriggled around, and he was unsure but it’s silhouette seemed to change as it wriggled. Was that a cog beside it’s eye? These thing’s don’t usually have cogs do they?

A strong gust beat into him bringing his attention back to the task at hand and he sped off again clutching the cradle as tightly as possible. After a few moments specks of light appeared in the distance and he knew safety was approaching, well at least for his delivery. He still had to make it back through the storm, which gratefully started to ease up the closer he came to the lights.

Another few shaky minutes passed until the inviting glows were sprawling out below him in that vein like way that cities do at night when he remembered where he was, which, made him speed up as much as he could. These lights weren’t in fact inviting after all. This was Vrendru country and he knew just how mean tempered and nasty those horrible beasties were. They were one of the only races actually bold enough to damage a Minion. And being late with a delivery as he probably was, was reason enough for them lash out at even the strongest of Minions. He centered himself and powered on.

He surveyed the scene for a landmark or two and instantly his internal homing device kicked in and turned him sharply West towards the cities outskirts. He could feel the sulfuric fog pasting his shiny shell with thick acidic dust as he flew over the factories below and then his destination was in sight. It was the most horrific looking monstrosity of architecture he had ever seen and he wanted this to be over with as soon as possible.

Gears, levers and cogs twisted and clicked as his elevation automatically lowered. He was heading straight for the doorway but unlike his height his speed did not decrease by itself and he smashed straight into a grotesque stone gargoyle protruding from the hideous gable wall. His shell crunched and shuddered, and something squeaked and squalled out in pain. Oh no, not the delivery, not here, not now, not when I’m so close to being finished. His tiny mechanical brain rattled with uncertainty as he fell crashing into the hard ground below.

He looked up to see how far he had fallen attempting to asses the damage when something leathery smashed into him and bounced off with a squeak. It landed somewhere beside him in what sounded like a softer landing than his. He lifted himself up with an effort as sprockets and bearings grated against each other and he noticed the cradle beside him. Looking in this time he saw not one but two pairs of deep glinting eyes staring back at him. The eyes seemed to belong to two little bats. The bigger one was laughing and grabbing at the smaller one who looked stunned and injured.

Before he could inspect the scene anymore the colossal wooden door in front of him dramatically creaked open releasing the hell contained behind it and with that he was gone in a second as steam and smoke billowed out of his battered shell. There was no way he was sticking around to come face to face with one the the Vrendru, no matter how badly damaged he was. His take off was lazy and difficult but he managed it and his job was done, even if it hadn’t gone as smoothly as it should have, it was over with and now he had to get back to the portal to demand his latest ‘upgrades’ be downgraded.

As he flew off disappearing into the darkness clumsily, down below him where he had left the cradle two figures emerged in the doorway. One of them snatched up the cradle which revealed a small human-like baby with large disproportionate fangs, and a small unconscious bat laying together innocently. “Isn’t the bat supposed to still be in an egg, my darkness?” a female voice said with an air of puzzlement. “My thoughts also,” came a razor-like male voice, “Peculiar.” They both paused for a moment inspecting the cradles contents. “I am pleased with those fangs though. Made for ripping & tearing. Proper true blood.”

“Hmm, I guess so. What shall we name our… son, dear?” the female asked tenderly.