User blog:Belt of Deltora/Fan Fiction-Chericola

Hi there!

Here at Deltora Quest Wiki, we take pride in being a community-based wiki. Not only do affiliate, we take the time to talk to other Deltora Quest dedicated sites and groups too.

That brings us to something new we're going to be trying out-Fan fiction!

One of our dedicated editors, Chericola, has written some excellent fan fiction depicting Jarred and Anna's journey and adventures in Shadowlands! A story about heartbreak and survival, The Shadowlands and Hopeless  will sure to impress!

You can read them both below:

Disclaimer: Deltora Quest belongs to Emily Rodda.

The Shadowlands

Part One

As she stumbled over the dirt path leading from the Forests of Silence, Anna felt it. It was something she had not expected to feel, not for the Forests which had haunted her dreams since she was a child. But still, she felt it, a numbness, a hole in her heart which sucked everything in until there was nothing left but emptiness.

For all it was worth, for the past seven years the Forests had been home. The dangerous creatures of the forest floor which she had feared as a child had become a promise of safety, protecting her and her family from the Shadow Lord's fearsome Grey Guards. Anna had given birth to her daughter there, and had lived and loved there. It was home.

And now she was leaving. Leaving behind the Forests, leaving behind the illusion of safety it had held until that fateful day the Grey Guards captured them. Leaving behind Jasmine. Anna could have wept at the thought of Jasmine, alone in the Forests, without friend or family to support her. Even now, she could still see her curled amid the cluster of ferns in First Wood, green eyes filled with terror and confusion, waiting for her parents to return to her. But having her here in chains beside her would have been a worse fate than the one she had given her. In the Forests, Jasmine had a chance to live, albeit a slim one. Here, she would not have lasted a moment.

Anna shuddered at the thought, and felt Jarred's arm brush hers, in a silent attempt to reassure her. Anna did not know how she had been able to find such a good man for a husband. He had given up their place at the forge for his childhood friend, King Endon, and his wife the Queen and their unborn child. He had travelled with Anna along the great road that connected Tora and Del, and when the Torans refused them sanctuary, sought refuge with her in the Forests of Silence. For all the hardships they had faced, he had never faltered, never gave up the hope that Deltora would be free one day. And even now, as they marched towards certain death in the Shadowlands, he did not falter, did not give up. His hope and determination filled her heart.

Alright, she thought. If Jarred will not falter now, then neither will I.

Even so, her thoughts flew to Jasmine alone in the Forests of Silence with little chance of survival, and herself and Jarred marching to their deaths in the Shadowlands, and felt a dark terror stir deep inside of her, and her heart clenched painfully in her chest.

oOo

The Grey Guards had finally allowed their prisoners to rest for the night, after the coming of night revealed a moonless sky. Even so, Jarred found it hard to sleep. He tossed and turned upon the grassless dirt, unable to relax, wondering how Jasmine in the Forests and Endon and Sharn and their child in Del were faring.

'Jarred?' Anna's soft voice roused him from a fitful dose.

He opened his eyes. 'Yes, dear heart?'

'I am afraid,' she whispered.

Her admission tore at his heart. He hated to see her like this, green eyes round with terror, hugging the ground underneath her as if it could protect her from the monsters sleeping ten feet from them. Jarred wanted to protect her badly, but there was nothing he could do if the Grey Guards harmed her. It made him frustrated to feel so helpless.

'Do not be afraid, dear heart,' he whispered anyway. 'I will protect you. I swear on my life.'

She looked up at him and the love and trust in her gaze tore at his insides. 'I know you will, Jarred,' she said. 'That is what frightens me.'

She turned her back to him, closing her eyes. Within moments he could hear her breathing in a deep, steady pattern. Jarred was left, wide awake, on the ground, staring up at the sky and hoping her trust in him was not misplaced.

oOo

A routine established itself across the following days. The Grey Guards marched their prisoners along all day, heedless of exhaustion and thirst and hunger, only allowing them to stop when the darkness obscured the pathway before them. Then they were fed lumps of chewy meat and cold broth that slid down their throats like slime. At dawn they were marching again, bleary eyed with exhaustion, not having slept for more than a few hours at a time. Anna's feet ached; Jarred's wrists chafed in their chains. But there was nothing to be done about it. Any complaints from the prisoners would bring the Grey Guards' wrath upon them, flogging their whips at them, telling them to shut it and move faster. And thusly the days went by.

oOo

Gradually, Anna began to recognise herbs, plants, flowers in the midst of the barren wilderness. Herbs for healing, plants for eating. Herbs to alleviate pain. That night, as the Grey Guards lay snoring under a tree a mere ten feet away, she gathered some and applied them to the wounds she and Jarred had sustained during the day. As Anna and Jarred ate the remaining herbs, she felt a sense of peace she had not felt in days. Finally she was doing what she was born to do.

She handed Jarred some leaves. 'You place these under your tongue to alleviate pain,' she explained in response to his questioning gaze.

Jarred gazed at her, astonished, a slow smile gracing his face. 'You are amazing,' he whispered, awed, expression filled with pride and fear. But mainly pride.

Anna's heart warmed to see it.

oOo

It filled Jarred with pride, to see the determination in Anna's eyes, the stubborn tilt of her chin as she marched beside him. She ignored the Grey Guards, their jeers and taunts and laughter, walking just fast enough to prevent from being whipped, and did nothing to attract their attention. Gone was the fear, the trembling, the anxiety he had seen in her in days past. They had faded like ashes in the wind the night Anna had put to use her skills in healing and herbs to help them survive the hard days of walking. Jarred could not have been more proud of her. Anna had found a purpose, a reason to live, and Jarred was glad of it. He knew he would not survive this dangerous journey without her; she was his heart and soul and the very centre of his life. If she died, he would die with her, leaving behind an empty, lifeless husk of a man. Jarred knew this as well as he knew himself. He glanced at his determined, courageous wife and silently reiterated his vow to her. Anna, dear heart, he thought, I would sooner die before I see you harmed. I will protect you. I will!

Disclaimer: Deltora Quest belongs to Emily Rodda.

Hopeless

Her heart beat like a drum, in time to the hisses and cheers of the audience. She clutched the wooden sword the Grey Guards had given her, and stared as the Vraal darted out into the Arena. It was a fearsome beast, to be sure, its eyes a mere slit in its face, its mouth a gaping crimson hole. But Anna did not hesitate as it came towards her. She swung, as Jarred had once taught her, aiming for its mouth, the only weak point in its reptilian body. It was quick, quicker than she expected. It evaded the blade, moving to circle her at a safe distance as she swung at it again.

For a moment, they circled each other, never taking their eyes off each other. Anna tightened her grip on the sword, determined not to be surprised by its next attack.

The Vraal leapt at her, claws outstretched, gaping mouth open wide in a grin of triumph. Anna stumbled out of the way, but not fast enough. She bit her lip to keep from screaming as she felt the Vraal's claws dig into her leg, and felt the warm trickle of blood.

oOo

Jarred's heart hammered as he watched Anna limp away from the Vraal, a serious-looking gash on her leg. He could tell she was tiring, the way her head bowed and her breath came out in a painful sob. But still she held her sword in front of her, determined to fight until the very end.

She spun to face the Vraal, determination blazing on her dear face. Whatever you do, do not falter, Jarred prayed silently. I beg of you, do not falter!

She faltered. Her breath caught as she gazed at the Vraal's reptilian body, protected against any weapon, and Jarred could imagine her debating how to attack.

That was all the opening the Vraal needed. It pounced, jaws gaping in triumph at its prey.

oOo

Anna screamed. She screamed like she had never screamed before, her voice hoarse with exhaustion. The pain was beyond bearing. Dimly she heard the crowds cheering, and Jarred shouting.

Then it was just her and the Vraal. It clawed at her, its stinking breath close to her cheek. As it tore at her, she knew.

She was dying.

She had never expected to die in such a way, in the Shadow Arena with the Shadow Lord's creatures cheering as she was devoured by a Vraal. If she were to die, she had imagined it being in her old age, with her husband, daughter and grandchildren gathered around her. But she did not regret it. She thought of Sharn, Endon and their child, safe in the forge, preparing for the day when they would take back their kingdom. She thought of Jasmine, her beautiful daughter, left behind in the Forests of Silence, not knowing whether she lived or died. Frankly, it did not matter if she died now, as long as Endon and Sharn and their child survived. Knowing this, she could die happy.

She closed her eyes, and felt herself go limp, feeling a heavy darkness cloud her vision.

I love you, Jarred, was her last thought as the darkness consumed her.

oOo

No, please no!

Jarred watched as Anna exhaled, her body going limp, the blood flowing freely from the many lacerations and wounds on her body she had sustained from the Vraal. Her chest did not rise again.

'Anna! No!' the shout burst from his throat. Jarred stumbled forward, head pounding. Anna could not be dead. She could not be dead. He could not imagine a life without Anna in it.

'Get back, scum!' a Grey Guard snapped, striking at Jarred with a whip, forcing him to his knees. 'It will be your turn soon enough.'

Tears blurring his vision, Jarred bowed his head, unable to bear the sight of Anna's bleeding, mangled body. The Vraal was not finished with her yet, even after her death, and was tearing her into chunks, feasting with relish on her bloody carcass. The audience gave a sigh of rapture, and Jarred kept his head bowed to hide the fury and disgust plain on his face. He didn't expect anything else from them, being creatures of the Shadow Lord.

As he returned to his cell—the cell he and Anna had shared with fifteen other slaves—the silence was deafening. He stumbled to a corner of the cell, feeling the gazes boring into his back, pitying him.

'I do not need your pity,' he hissed, head bowed, unable to face them.

'What is wrong with him?' a little girl asked anxiously, a frail one with long blonde hair. Anna had treated her for a fever not even a week before. 'Is he ill?'

'His wife was thrown into the Arena,' the girl's mother said, pity laced in her voice as she looked at Jarred. 'Do you remember her, Enlinn? The healer. Kindest woman I'd ever known.'

His wife was thrown into the Arena… Poor woman, was so kind…a healer… such a kind, merry woman…will miss the happiness she brought with her…

Jarred blocked his ears to the painful chatter, closed his eyes. Could they not discuss Anna as if she were a thing to chat about and forget? It did not matter that they all saw prisoners leave their cells to die fighting in the Shadow Arena, that this was an everyday occurrence for them. This was Anna. His wife. His reason for living. Could they not show more respect?

He desperately wanted to tell them to stop, but his voice was silent, his tongue numbed by what he had witnessed. Oh, Anna, Jarred thought hopelessly. Why did you have to leave me alone?

He slumped onto the ground, and felt the world fade to darkness around him.

oOo

'Jarred!' Anna's voice rang out across the Shadow Arena, high and panicky. From his view from the back of the Arena, he could see her, exhausted and frightened, cowering before the Vraal as it prepared to pounce, her wooden sword discarded a few feet away in the sand.

'I am coming,' Jarred muttered, heart beating wildly, frantically shoving people out of his way.

'Jarred, help me!'

'I am coming!' he repeated, pushing his way through the jostling crowds of people, who kept moving in his way, preventing him from reaching his wife. 'Damn it!' he swore as yet another person blocked his path. 'Move away! I must save her!'

The person laughed, and stepped closer, and it was a Grey Guard, and not a person at all. 'Get back, scum!' the Grey Guard mocked. 'It will be your turn soon enough.' He shoved at Jarred, and Jarred was pushed back, back to the edges of the Arena, engulfed in the throngs of people gathered there, unable to free himself as Anna screamed and screamed, blood splattering the sand as she fell to ground, blood streaming from the countless wounds caused by the Vraal's attacks.

'No!' Jarred fell to his knees, hands reaching out towards her. He had to try, had to save her! 'No, please! Anna!'

She lay on the ground, motionless, breathless. Dead. The sand beneath her was soaked with blood. Her blood. But the Vraal continued to tear at her, sinking its sharp teeth into her flesh.

'No, please! Stop!' Jarred shouted. 'Stop it!' He stumbled to his feet, grabbed at someone, anyone who could help him. 'Help her, please! She's dying!'

The person turned in his grasp to gaze coldly at him. And Jarred saw that it was Endon. 'Please,' Jarred said hoarsely. 'Help her. I saved the lives of you and your family; you owe it to me to help!' He knew it was unfair of him to ask it of Endon, but he was desperate. He had to save Anna. 'Please!' he repeated.

Endon stepped away, shook his head. 'No, Jarred. I cannot; I must keep my family safe, my heir safe. You got yourself into this; you must face it alone.' And Jarred found himself clutching at thin air as Endon faded away into nothingness.

'No!' Jarred almost wept with frustration. Why would Endon not help him? Why would no one help him? Surely he deserved it more than anyone!

'You are not worthy of it,' a Grey Guard's voice sneered in the crowd. 'Ruddy tick!'

Jarred fell to his knees, clutching his skull, unable to erase Anna's ear-splitting screams in his head. 'No! Stop! Please!' he shouted, but the anguished keening continued until his heart and soul shattered as clearly as Anna had been torn apart by the Vraal and nothing was left but a deep, void-sucking emptiness.

oOo

'Anna!' Jarred found himself lying on the floor of the cell, staring up at the ceiling marked by the Shadow Lord's brand. It took a moment for him to realise that he was really awake, and not in another dream. Then a horrible awareness flooded through him. Anna was dead. His Anna, with the unruly brown hair and heart-warming smile, who could cheer an entire cell of people in a land without hope. She was dead, and Jarred was left alone.

You got yourself into this; you must face it alone, Endon's words in the dream echoed painfully in Jarred's head. The memory of Anna's anguished screams entered his mind, and Jarred bowed his head, eyes blurred with his tears. He had brought her to this end.

'I am so sorry, Anna,' he said softly, as her phantom screams resounded in his skull. 'I never meant this to happen. I am so sorry. Oh, Anna!' And he wept, shoulders shaking, hating himself with a fierce intensity he never had before.

Anna was dead.

oOo

There seemed to be no reason to live any more. There was nothing to live for, Jarred thought dimly. His wife was dead; his daughter was likely dead too. Jarred did not think much of her chances of survival in the Forests of Silence. Endon was alive, living in his family in the forge in Del, but it seemed pointless to live for him. What could Jarred do for Endon now, in the Shadowlands? He had done all he could for his childhood friend; he could do no more.

He wanted to die. It was agony, living in the cell without Anna, feeling his heart and soul break piece by painful piece as he thought of what he had done to her, to Jasmine. He had convinced Anna to leave their home in the forge, had convinced her to seek refuge in the Forests of Silence. He had caused Anna's heart to break when they were captured by the Grey Guards in First Wood, and he was the reason Jasmine was growing up alone in the Forests, without friends or family to guide her. It was his fault, all his. What was left of Jarred's heart ached to think of it.

As the two Grey Guards marched inside the cell, searching for the next slave to throw into the Arena, Jarred hoarsely called out, 'Take me, please!' Surely it was better to die in the Arena than spend another moment in that damnable cell, Jarred thought. 'I will go!' he shouted, stumbling forwards.

The Grey Guards laughed. 'You will have to wait, scum,' one sneered. 'Your turn will come soon enough.' They marched out dragging the frail girl Enlynn with them, her face a mask of despair and terror as she screamed for her mother, who only bowed her head, tears streaming down her cheeks, and did nothing. The words were an eerie echo of the words spoken at Anna's death, and in his dream. Jarred could only hope his turn would come in time; it was the only thing that gave him hope, the thought that he would be free of this agonising existence soon.

oOo

He got his wish. A week later they came for him: two Grey Guards, snarling viciously as they grabbed him and forced him out of the cell. Jarred did not even try to resist; it was almost a relief to him, to know he would die in the Shadow Arena. He willingly followed the two Guards to the fitting area connected to the Arena.

The Guards had not had a slave who did not cry, scream or struggle during their journey to the Arena. They regarded Jarred with suspicion. 'Why isn't he resisting?' one asked, irritated. They loved it when a slave struggled against them; it gave them the excuse to attack them. That Jarred did not try to escape was of great disappointment to them. They had heard of his skills as a fighter from the Grey Guards who had marched Jarred and Anna to the Shadowlands, and they had obviously hoped to test their skills against his.

At the entrance to the Arena, the Guards gave Jarred a wooden sword; still stained with the blood of the last person to enter, Jarred noticed with a shudder. 'Good luck, tick,' one of the Grey Guards, mocked. 'Try not to die quickly.' The other laughed, and shoved at Jarred.

He stumbled into the Shadow Arena.

The roar of the crowds was deafening. There were hundreds upon hundreds of them, seated on benches around the stadium, cheering and stamping their feet, eyes glued upon Jarred as he walked to the centre of the Arena. He was struck dumb at the hundreds of creatures in the audience. There were Ols, who were changing their shapes every second; and Grey Guards, who sneered at him and hooted with excitement at the entertainment to come. Jarred felt slightly overwhelmed by the sheer noise and size of it all. He wondered briefly if Anna had felt the same way when she had been sent to die.

And then Jarred's gaze was riveted on the door at the other end of the Arena. It slid open inch by inch, while the creatures in the audience screeched loudly in impatience. Jarred almost wished it would never open, but also wished it would hurry up so that he could have it over and done with. He shook his head at the conflicting feels broiling inside himself.

And then it was open, and the Vraal leapt out, claws outstretched, its crimson mouth gaping open, eyes narrowed in their slits. Jarred raised his wooden sword within sweating palms and deftly avoided the Vraal's attack. The crowds went wild. They were positively bloodthirsty, Jarred thought. They wanted a fight. So! Jarred thought. I will give one to them.

The Vraal pounced at him again, and again Jarred evaded it. But this time he retaliated, slashing at the Vraal's mouth. With great satisfaction, Jarred heard the creature screech in fury and pain, and watched as blood streamed from its mouth in thick rivulets. So! Jarred thought triumphantly. I was right. Its throat is its weak point.

But it did not fall. The Vraal pounced at Jarred again, fury blazing in its eyes. Though blood dripped down its throat, it was still lightning fast, and fury had made it even faster. Jarred leapt out of the way, too late, and winced in pain as the Vraal's sharp claws dug into his arm and thigh. He cursed his own stupidity. Of course fury would have sharpened the Vraal's focus! Jarred's retaliatory attack had made it even quicker than it was already. Blood spurted from the gashes on Jarred's arm and thigh, creating sharp bursts of pain, and he felt his energy wane with every drop that splattered onto the sand. Dropping his sword, he pressed his hands upon his wounded thigh, trying in vain to stop the bleeding.

He heard the sound of the Vraal's claws treading the sandy ground behind him. Jarred's heart sank like a stone. He could not outrun it, not now. He was exhausted; his leg was injured. What could he do now?

He felt the Vraal coil to spring, to deal the killing blow. He heard the audience hold their breath in anticipation.

Still clutching at his thigh-wound, he turned to face it. He was brought in the Arena to fight. So he would die fighting. It was a fitting end, Jarred thought. He thought of Anna, his dear wife who he had lead to her death in the Arena. He thought of Jasmine, who Jarred had left alone in the Forests of Silence to grow up without parents. He thought of Endon and Sharn and their child, the heir to Deltora, whom he had given his home and identity to so that they could survive for long enough to restore the gems to the Belt of Deltora and defeat the Shadow Lord. Jarred had done so much damage, but so much good, as well. It was fitting that he die here, in the Arena, fighting a monstrous beast. The one thing Jarred regretted the most was not having a chance to see Endon again. It seemed that they would never see each other again in this life, after all.

The Vraal pounced, bellowing a screeching war cry as it flew at Jarred. Jarred just stood there, his eyes glued to the creature. Just let it be quick, Jarred prayed. That was all he could ask. Recalling Anna's screams as the Vraal tore at her body, Jarred knew that it would not be so quick, that it would be excruciatingly painful. But he hoped and prayed anyway.

It was lightning-fast. In one moment Jarred felt the heavy weight of the Vraal thrown at him, and in the next he was on the ground, dazed, staring up into the Vraal's triumphant eye-slits as it prepared to lunge again, and hearing the noisy, deafening bloodthirsty shouts of the crowds on the benches. 'Kill him!' 'Burst his brains out!' 'Tear him to pieces!'

And then…pain, a searing pain at the side of his head, and the feeling of a disgustingly warm wetness oozing thickly down his cheek. And a darkness, a terrible darkness, pressing down upon his face, forcing his eyes to close, just for a second, as a sudden exhaustion set in.

<p style="text-align:center;">oOo

'Kill him! Kill him!' He awoke to strange bloodthirsty shouts, and a heavy panting, and a stench so horrid it caused him to wretch. That's blood, a part of him thought dazedly. The stench of blood. Whose blood? He wondered. Then he felt a wetness on his head, and reality hit him. It was his blood.

Why on earth would he have blood on the side of his head? He wondered, more than a little confused now. What on earth was going on?

A bloodthirsty bellow caught his attention. His eyes flew open to see a monstrous creature, eyes for slits and mouth gaping wide, crouching before him, coiling to pounce. He gaped at it. He was sure he had never seen the like before. What was it doing there? Why was it attacking him?

It charged at him, mouth turned in a horrible grimace. He rolled out of its way, heart hammering. What was going on? The thing did not retreat but spun to charge at him again. Was it mad?

He leapt to his feet. 'What is happening here?' he shouted. The people on the benches were shouting, cheering, stamping their feet. Did they not realise what was happening, what was going on? Why would they not help him? 'Where am I?' They did not answer him, but laughed and jeered and spat at his face.

'Cowardly tick!' one sneered. 'Get back and fight!'

Fight? He stared, confused. Why should he fight? Why did they want him to fight? Surely it was better to run away!

He scanned the area, which seemed to be some sort of stadium. There! A stream of light shone through a gap in the wall at the far end. That is where I must go, he thought. He raced towards it, heart pounding, hearing the furious shouts of the people in the stadium. 'Come back here, tick!' 'Die, you foul monster!' 'Get after him, Vraal!'

So! He thought with clarity. It seemed that he had been put there to die for some reason. And that thing chasing after him was called a Vraal. A Vraal!

He had reached the light, and plunged into it, leaving behind the roaring voices and that monstrous Vraal. Ha! He thought triumphantly. Those fools may have thought they had me, may have thought that I would not escape. They wanted him dead, for reasons that were beyond him. Well, he was not going to die today.

His heart lifted even as he heard the sounds of pursuit behind him. Despite it all, he was alive, and on his way to freedom; it loomed ahead, in the form of a large mountain at the border of the barren landscape he was running across. There, he would be free; there, he would be safe. There, he would be able to discover what, who and where he was. There, he would be able to get rid of the emptiness he felt deep in his heart. He kept running, certain of one thing: beyond that green mountain lay home.

Note: If you have any fan fiction you would like to share with us, please send me a message here.