The Channel

From the moment the strangers arrived from the stars, nothing was quite the same. Nothing had really changed, but it definitely wasn’t the same.

Instead of tyrants from their own country ruling over them with a heavy hand, they had tyrants from the sky doing much of the same.

Any violence was promptly crushed and the instigators killed in large, public displays. There was no doubt of what was expected from the people: don’t give the new regime any trouble. However, these new masters seemed less concerned with the local day-to-day events and, for the most part, left them alone. As a result, a certain amount of personal freedom ensued.

Selera moved to an area outside the walls of the city and took up housekeeping on what was formerly a parcel of the king’s land. It was good land with many trees for building and keeping a hearth warm. It was a great deal of hard work, but a far better living for a young lady than prostituting to the local whore-mongers in the city.

Selera stood from her gardening work this third Spring and rubbed her back. Surveying her crops of fruits and vegetables, she was pleased: they would fetch a handsome price. Her talents at growing things had progressed with each year of practice. She would barter for a good amount of wheat from her neighbors as she had done for the past several years. One thing was for sure, she ate much better since the strange men from the stars had arrived.

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After harvest, she did her bartering with her neighbors for grain and took the surplus of her crop to sell in the city. The money would definitely come in handy. Selera set up her small cart in the market at the center of the city. From this vantage, she could see the castle high up on the hill: it looked virtually unchanged by its new occupants.

An occasional guard, dressed in their strange armor walked through the crowds. They carried weapons that fired lights that could injure and kill. She could not see their eyes, and she was afraid of them, even though her friends told her they were only men. Sometimes they would stop and talk as if there was someone standing next to them, but she could not hear the voices to which they answered. Perhaps they are gods, she thought and she kept her distance.

Everyday, for over a week, Selera came to town with her food surplus to sell. She kept all the coins in a small leather bag, tied to her waist. As she came to the end of her surplus, Selera’s money bag was heavy with her earnings and she planned out all of the things she could buy for the coming year and still have some for savings.

It was still midday and she was nearly finished selling her goods when a commotion started at one end of the market. She could not see what was going on, but Braith, a nearby vendor and friend, pointed out a black hooded figure walking through the market.

“There he is, Lass,” he said, pointing through the crowded market.

“Who?” Selera said as she stood on her toes trying to get a better look, shielding her eyes with her hand from the noon-day sun.

“The new Lord of the Castle, that’s who,” he answered. “He is the new King’s servant.” He leaned in close to Selera’s ear and whispered: “He is the Devil.”

Selera looked at him sharply, “Stop that,” she teased.

Braith maintained a sober expression, “Don’t pay me no mind, but he has a sword of fire that can cut right through a man.”

At first Selera thought he was joking, but having seen a few of the new things these strangers brought with them from the stars, it was entirely possible.

“How do you know about this sword?” She asked.

Braith drew in his breath sharply as he watched the stranger come closer to them, “Wait, Lass, and watch. You’ll see….”

Selera saw the hooded stranger approach their side of the market. Everyone was moving out of his way. Unlike their own kings, this man was unescorted. Does he have no fear? Selera wondered, but her question was answered when he walked to a group of men standing not far from Selera’s and Braith’s stands.

He stood and simply motioned all the men to leave, except one.

“That’ll be Rayson Gerel,” Braith whispered in Selera’s ear, “He’s been talking rebellion for weeks now. Even has an underground movement, I’ve heard.”

Rayson had obviously been caught off guard by the stranger’s appearance, and before he could do anything, the new Lord pulled something from beneath the folds of his cloak. No sooner had he pulled it out than a long, ember-like sword was in his hand. It hummed as he wielded it, moving deftly forward toward Rayson.

Everything went so quickly that Selera didn’t know exactly what happened until it was all over. By then, Rayson’s head was on the ground, next to his body. After initial cries of surprise, the crowd fell silent. If he wanted to instill fear into his people, he had accomplished just that.

The new Lord pulled the cowl from his head and Selera gasped: Braith was right. This was no man: he had black and red stripes on his face with bright orange eyes. A halo of horns topped his hairless head. Selera grasped Braith’s arm. The new Lord turned slowly and looked at the crowd, meeting everyone’s eyes.

She saw his eyes meet hers for a moment. Instead of looking away, he continued his gaze. Selera felt a shiver run up her spine as if he could see right through her. Then she saw flashes of light and went all giddy, as if the earth were turning upside down. When she came to, she was face down on the cobble stones and felt hands turn her over. Her head hurt and she brought her hand up to rub her eyes, but she could not open them.

Even though Selera could not open her eyes, she could hear how quiet it was. Braith had kneeled on the ground near her, pulling her skirts down around her ankles. Leaning down, he whispered, “Be still, child. He is coming.”

She heard someone walk to her side. There was a long moment of silence before a low voice quietly ordered, “Bring her.”

“My Lord,” Braith spoke slowly and respectfully, “She need not be a bother of yours, my wife and I can care for her. She is….”

“Bring her,” the man ordered again. The insistence of the lord’s voice was enough for Braith to obey.

“Hold on, My Dear,” Braith whispered to her as he scooped her up from the street.

Braith carried Selera some distance before he passed her off to someone else. Braith smooth the hair from her forehead.

“Take care, My Girl,” was all Braith said to her as he left her.

Try as she may, Selera could not open her eyes to see what was going on. It was several more minutes before her head cleared enough before she managed to open one eye: what she saw distressed her. The Lord of the castle was carrying her up the castle drive, which was no short walk and a steep incline as well.

Selera began trembling. “My Lord,” she managed weakly, her mouth was dry. She swallowed and continued, “Please do not trouble yourself.”

“Does your head still hurt?” he asked bluntly, with an extremely strange accent.

This caught her off guard, wondering how he would know. “Yes, My Lord.”

“The light bothers your eyes and your vision is not clear,” they were statements, not questions.

“Yes, My Lord,” was all she could answer.

“Then I do trouble myself,” he said, “Be quiet.” He spoke no more.

When they reached the castle, they were met by several people. Some took Selera from the strange-looking man. They looked to be normal people, although they were dressed strangely. They spoke in a strange dialect, one she did not recognize. They spoke to her insistently, but she couldn’t understand and just stared at them blankly.

The lord said something to them in their own tongue before turning away. Someone came up to her with what looked like a small type of weapon and pressed it firmly behind her ear. There was a quick sting and the feeling as if someone had hit her from behind. She instinctively brought her hand to the area and rubbed it to see what they had done: no damage that she could feel. As the pain passed, she noticed she could understand the strangers quite clearly, even though they still spoke in their own tongue.

Her pulse quickened and her palms began sweating profusely.

The Lord looked back at them and said, “Catch her.”

Two of the men took Selera by the elbows just as she was heading for the ground once again.

“Come on, now. Let’s find you some place to sit down,” one of the men said, helping her inside.

They found a seat just inside the front entry and put her there. “Stay here for a moment,” one of the men instructed. She nodded and they both went back outside. She leaned forward, closed her eyes, and put her head in her hands, rubbing her temples and eyes in hopes of squeezing the pain from her head.

Selera heard someone step before her and she opened her eyes and looked up: it was the new lord. She looked into his eyes fearfully: she had never seen anything like him before. He was both awful and beautiful at the same time. And, yes, she believed he was a demon.

He removed a black leather glove from his hand and stretched it out placing it on her head. Instantly, her pain was gone.

She blinked, took a deep breath, and sat up in the chair, still looking at the man. “Thank you,” was all she could manage.

He did not say anything before turning on his heels and walking swiftly from the antechamber. She watched his robes flow silently behind him; even his boots made no sound on the stone floor.

Selera looked around for the other people that had been there. They were watching as their lord disappeared into the back.

Finally, one of the women came forward. “My Lady, our Lord wishes for us to make you more comfortable. Please follow me,” she said.