Read Daegan (The Age of Alandria: A Companion Novella) for Free Online Page B

disappearing or having accidents. Perhaps he was just here to observe something. Perhaps he was here to stop something, to save someone? He could only hope, but the fear clenching his stomach into knots told him otherwise.
    Standing, hidden near a tight grouping of trees, Daegan was silent. He listened. The sounds of the night were oddly absent. Everything was still. It was eerie and sent chills down his spine. A slight breeze in the crisp night air brought scents from a doused fire mixed with cooked meat not far off. He could hear the sounds of deep sleep coming from several of the small huts closer in to the center of the village-type camp. It was late—or possibly even early—and there were not many sounds of life stirring in the camp. There was, however, a guard on the opposite side of the camp from where he was—he was moving about quite loudly, Daegan mused.
    Daegan tried to turn from where he stood, but his body would not obey his command to move. His feet were rooted to the ground, waiting for something. All he could do was try to center the power of his energy and focus it on moving his feet one foot at a time. They felt like they were covered in cement blocks. While he was concentrating on his feet, his other senses told him something was happening. He slowly looked around, paying attention to every detail around him, so not to be surprised when something moved. A bird screeched in the far distance, a call that broke the spell of silence. What Daegan was not expecting was for the movement to be his own.
    His feet began moving, following the silent command of another while he was helpless to use his own appendages. Paralyzed... trapped in his own body; only his mind free to witness his actions whether intentional or not. Closer, he moved to the edge of the clearing, sneaking like a sleuth on a mission toward its goal. His vision locked onto a small hut built from blocks of straw and planks of wood mixed together. It was primitive and basic. It was also the home of a twined family. The father was a shifter, the mother, a Faerie, and they had a daughter who had not yet reached the age of maturity, not yet even having experienced her first shift, since she was only half shifter. Daegan had brought them food when things had got tough for them not long ago. He knew that in Feraánmar the shifters were considered a lesser race. He didn’t want to admit it—and he did not agree—but it was unfortunately the attitude from many of the elders in this territory, including the Paladin leaders.
    Daegan could not stop his feet. He put all of his strength of mind behind his energy to stop... to turn around... His skin was breaking out in a cold sweat. He could hear them breathing heavily and peacefully in their home. For the first time in a long time, he felt fear... fear for the safety of those whom he considered his people... fear of himself. An echo of the old Faerie woman’s voice rang in the recesses of his mind: “...you are in danger... so are others.”
    Closer; his body moved slowly as he fought every step. There was a small fence built up around the home. He had helped them build it to keep their daughter, Katéri, close to home as she was still quite young. Her simple toys were strewn about the sparse and patchy grasses.
    He had thought at first she would be afraid of him, but she had ran up to him and looked him in the eyes with no fear at all and told him, “They told me you would come. I am not afraid. You will be stronger.” He had no idea what she was talking about, but she had placed her little hand inside his bigger roughened hand... trusting. His heart was hers in that moment.
    Daegan had reached into his shirt and pulled out a necklace, on which rested a black obsidian stone, that he wore at all times. An old man from his past had given the stone to him telling him it was special, so he’d kept it all this time. It was small, but it meant something to him. He had removed the stone and given it to