Eorum and the Shadow Man | The Original Short Story

Introduction

The following is the original short story that my new novella, The Eorum Chronicles: The Shadowman, is based on. I wrote this for a writing contest when I was 13. I lost the contest, but that did not discourage me from writing more stories set in the world of Eretor. I grew up with this world and these characters, and now I get to share them with you! But this is not the definitive edition of this story! For that, you’ll have to read the new novella, The Eorum Chronicles: The Shadowman, which is the first in a series of novellas centered around Eorum, my favorite character in my original Eretor stories. Enjoy!

Eorum and the Shadow Man

The king of Ándras was concerned with the news that this villager had brought to him.

“So, let me get this straight,” said the king. “Shadow people are attacking the southern villages, taking your people, turning them to shadows, and your weapons can’t stop them?”

The villager vigorously nodded his head. His eyes were wide with fear. “And they’re taking the people to the Lost City.”

The king needed to do something about this. He needed to send someone to find the source of these shadows and stop them. He needed someone who had seen the impossible. He needed someone who had done the impossible himself. He needed a warrior who had traveled the land and had seen things that the king himself could only imagine.

The king turned to his messenger. “Send the boy.”

***

Eorum was spending the night at a hotel in a city after his last adventure in Brevis. A mine had been invaded by some rock golems that an evil sorcerer had brought to life, so the dwarves called for help, and Eorum answered the call.

There were many other adventures and quests that he went on before this, like the trolls in the forest of Lignus and the gangs in the northern villages in Ándras. He had gone to the City in the Mountains, which was in the northern regions of Eretor, to seek rest. That place was, apparently, where everyone knew him. So he went to the south-western regions of Ándras, and that’s when the dwarf messenger came to get help for his people.

Eorum was exhausted. He was tired of playing hero. He knew that was his dream, to become a hero, but he didn’t want to run around all the time, saving everyone’s skins. He took off his armor and lay down in bed when there was a knock on the door.

“Excuse me,” came a man’s voice, “but is this the room of Eorum?”

The man sounded like he could barely contain his excitement. He was, it seemed, very familiar with the tales of Eorum.

“Here we go again,” Eorum muttered to himself. He opened the door. “Yes, this is Eorum. What do you need?”

“My name is Charles,” said the man excitedly, “and I’m a messenger for the king.”

“Which one?” said Eorum.

“The king of Ándras,” said Charles, a little embarrassed.

The king of Ándras? It’s been a while since he’s needed anything from Eorum.

“What does he want from me?” asked Eorum.

“He wants you to find out what’s going on in-” the messenger shivered, “in the Lost City.”

The Lost City. Of course he’s afraid of the Lost City. Everyone thinks it’s haunted.

Eorum had been in the area without anything scary happening. It was just a bunch of mumbo jumbo. “Alright,” said Eorum. “I’ll pack my stuff.”

The messenger told Eorum what he was up against. Sentient shadows that take whoever they can to the Lost City then turn into shadows. Eorum had already checked the surrounding area a long time ago, just in case there was someone (or something) living in the ruins. There was nothing except for a small group of goblins who immediately turned and fled at the sight of Eorum. They didn’t know who he was, they were just afraid that he was a knight sent to arrest them.

***

After a week, Eorum made it to the Lost City. He stopped his horse, Wind Rider. There were no trees to tie Wind Rider to because the Lost City was in the great Desert of Harénae, so Eorum tied Wind Rider to an old and withered shrub.

Eorum crept quietly into the ruins of the city. Suddenly, the shadows were upon him! They just seemed to have come from out of the ground.

Eorum swung his sword at them, but the blade went right through them without any effect whatsoever. Then the shadows spoke to Eorum in unison. The voices all sounded abnormally deep.

“Eorum, a legend from Ándras.”

“How do you know my name?” said Eorum.

“I know everyone’s name,” said the shadows, “for I am all knowing. I am the Shadow King. I speak through these shadows because I am too weak to leave my sanctuary. Soldiers, bring the boy to me.”

The shadows began to advance on Eorum. He started to run but ran into two more shadows. They had trapped him. Eorum began to swing his sword hopelessly, but there was nothing he could do.

The shadows took Eorum’s sword, picked him up, and brought him to the remains of Town Hall. There, in the governor’s chair, sat a black, shadowy form. The Shadow King.

“Who are you?” asked Eorum. “Where did you come from?”

“Allow me to tell you,” said the Shadow King. “My story began fifty years ago. I traveled here, but I was weak from my journey. I found this place. It was abandoned, so I made my home here. Not long after, a young man wandered into this domain. He appeared as though he was scavenging the ruins. I told him that if he followed my commands then I would give him all the glory that he deserved. He came to me, and I took his shadow. The glory that he got was being the first soldier in my army. I then used his own shadow to destroy his body. I no longer needed it and I didn’t need anyone knowing of my sanctuary. I used his shadow to bring more and more people to me. I’ve been taking shadows for years. Soon I will have enough to raise an army and conquer Eretor. I will have my revenge on the races who banished me and my people to Infurus.”

That caught Eorum’s attention. “What? You were in Inferus? You couldn’t escape that place. That’s impossible!”

“I escaped thanks to Black Veil. It took me three hundred years, but I managed to find a way to escape that hideous realm. Now I will have my revenge on everyone who put me in there. The elves, the dwarves, the men, and everyone else will become a shadow. Now, if you will just kneel before me, I will take your shadow to add to my army. It’s quite painless.”

The shadows hit Eorum in the back of the knees, and he fell. But Eorum was too focused on what the Shadow king said about Inferus to pay very much attention. How could anything escape Inferus? Inferus was a realm created as a prison for monsters. If one monster could get out, who knew what else could return to the world of Eretor. Also, what was the Black Veil that the Shadow King mentioned?

Eorum looked to his left absentmindedly. There was an old skeleton lying on the ground next to him. It was holding a sword made of black metal. That couldn’t be a Shadow Sword could it? Those hadn’t been made since before all of the Shadow Men were banished to Inferus. Well, the skeleton looked pretty old, and the shadows wouldn’t be able to pick it up. Plus, what other choice did he have?

Eorum rolled to his left and quickly grabbed the sword. The surprised shadows took a second to react, but then they began reaching for Eorum. Eorum swung the sword at their arms.

It was a Shadow Sword. Probably the last one in existence.

The shadows’ arms dropped to the ground and disappeared. Eorum slashed at the other shadows coming for him. Two more shadows disappeared.

The Shadow King started shouting at Eorum. “No! Get him. Get him!”

The shadows were quickly advancing. Eorum’s new sword sliced through the stale air. Shadows disappeared all around him. Eorum couldn’t keep this up for much longer. He looked at the Shadow King and had an idea.

Eorum started making his way towards the Shadow King, clearing the way with his new sword as he went.

“No. What are you doing?” said the shadows. “Get him. Get him!”

Eorum sliced at the Shadow King; the Shadow King disappeared. All of the shadows around Eorum froze. Without a real Shadow Man to project them, the shadows couldn’t function. They disappeared exactly as Eorum expected.

Then Eorum remembered something. Something very important.

He picked up his other sword while sprinting over to Wind Rider. After a few minutes he was hurriedly shoving the Shadow Sword into his bag and jumping onto Wind Rider’s saddle. He turned the horse around and sent him into a full sprint.

This was why he had to keep playing hero. Because of very important moments and discoveries like this. This was why he had to keep adventuring and traveling Eretor in search of monsters to defeat and people to save. This was why being a hero was his dream growing up. He had to get back to the king of Ándras. He had to warn him.

The gate to Inferus was opening.

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