Mirages-Chapter Two

Chapter Two:1

The cliff ran through the barren, lifeless land, jutting into the gray sky like harsh landmarks pointing the way. Parched grass tried desperately to make life amid the few trees, branches skeletal and bare, bark gleaming like the cold bite of winter. Dust and dirt swirled on the cold, biting back of the northland wind, and the deep mist sinking into the ground shrouded anything from view other than the distant, shadows of Kurl’s spires.2

Groping blindly through the mist, the twisted, contorted image flung its pale limbs about wildly, an eerie shriek echoing from its scarcely moving lips, rising to a chaotic crescendo. The noise seemed to rise on the air, swirling until it had left, faint echoes coming from the deep chasms beside the cliffs.3

The Dark Lady, perched in a throne on the highest spire of Kurl, heard the last, faint traces of the agonizing scream, a faint smile tracing her face hidden in the shadows of the cloak. Always, visible, her deep red eyes shattered through the deep mist and fog, keen eyes spotting the pale life form writhing in terror and pain.4

Sweeping her glance westwards over the vast expanse of barren land, a laugh echoed from her tight lips, echoing among the scraggly cliffs until it was lost in the cold chill of the northland air.5

The dust beneath her feet rose into the pale blue sky, cold and somehow comforting. Breathing in the mingled fragrances of the city, so familiar yet oddly strange to her. For the first several years of her childhood she had lived in the alley slums just north of the factories where the air smelled much as it did here in the market place; cold and forbidding, of death and erosion, and a bitter tang to it coupled with the fragrances of flowers. The memories plagued her, coming over her in washes and flooding her senses. 6

Pausing by a tall oak, she desperately pushed her hand again the scratchy bark, familiar to her, a place where she had gone often during her childhood to mourn about her life and to think about her resentment towards the world. Biting her lip, she cast a glance longingly homewards, to the alley slums. Fears and doubts long gone, Aerian gave in to the wistful yearning for her real home, racing across the passage and into the tight, dark confines of her childhood.7

Kastel wandered through the corridors of her memory, reliving the ghastly illusions speeding by her with troubling uncertainty. It was all so blurry and faded, her vision, as if someone or something was preventing her from accessing it. Knuckles pressing hard against her head, she stared through the thin sheet of silver at the cold wooden wall, eyes picking out shapes that were cast by the pale, flickering candle.8

Brow furrowed in thought, Kastel retreated deeper into her innermost thoughts, eyes seeing the pale shadows mingled with the deeper ones. It seemed to signify a dark presence and her minions, but the image wavered and then disappeared into a pure, blank wall of nothingness. But through the deep silence a presence could be felt, probing her mind for thoughts and memories, and in the air she felt the presence of magic, dark and forbidding, from a great distance away…9

A look of realization crossed her face, and she jolted back to reality, horror gripping her. The thin line between fantasy and reality, thinned already, had begun to fade. Images and illusions were blurring with each other to create pure chaotic results that blinded her from the truth that should’ve been so simple, and someone had gained access to her thoughts when the barrier in her mind was so tight that it was hard for her to cross it at times.10

Leaping to her feet, she crossed the distance between the chair she had been previously seated at to the door, hidden in a cloak of shadows. Before she left, she bent down to the numerous candles lighting a smile table and blew them out.11

The cold stone wall beneath his back had been warmed considerably during the short period of time by the brilliant flare of sunlight. Keen eyes, unwavering in their certainty, peered from his high perch on the battlements, sweeping east and west across the land. The darkness there was deeper than usual, preventing him from seeing anything other than the shadows, but if he focused on one thing long enough, he could just make out shadows that hinted of trees and other times beasts, but reality and illusions had become blurred to even his eyesight.12

A chill crept up his spine as he saw a stooped form rapidly approaching the northern wall, a cloak trailing behind it, and with slanted, yellow eyes focused intently on him. Heart leaping to his throat, he scooted closer to the warmth and protection of the wall, but the illusion was calm. Laughing uneasily at his increasing jumpiness, he listened to the silent approaching him, and felt the gentle hand resting on his shoulder.13

“You really should get up now. It seems the darkness is taking its toll on you too.” Jwerin glanced up behind him, seeing the dark, tanned face of the girl approaching him. Forcing a smile, he accepted the slender hand she offered, using it to help him to his feet. 14

“Indeed,” he murmured, still a smidgeon uneasy, “Anything can come to you in that darkness.”15

Rubbing life into his aching limbs, Jwerin crossed the length of the northern wall, waving to the female as he descended the stairs.16

The darkness was familiar and comfortable to Aerian, the cold stone beneath her hands soothing, and the wind, whispering in her ear, the same as it had always been to her. A smile of pleasure crept to her face, the wind stroking back strands of hair from her eyes. Quickly she adjusted to the lack of air and sight, the shadowy outlines of buildings taking on vague shapes as she explored the familiar stones of the wall jutting up into the sky. Few rays of sunlight could ever shatter the impenetrable darkness, and the scarce light that did come scattered through the shadows, insignificant and as if it was not even there.17

Stepping hesitantly from the last step, Aerian slipped through the shadows, deeper into the darkness. Moisture clung to the air, unwilling to let go, and the chill wind whispered of death and decay, soothing her restless spirit. A flare of resentment of the lifestyle flashed up in her, the stubborn streak that had marked her as unique through her childhood coming again. The feeling of hatred did not want to go, nor did she want it to go. It seemed to offer her a respite from the nothingness and monotony that was her life, giving her some reality to cling desperately to.18

Leaning against the stone wall, a sudden weariness sweeping through her, she tuned in her senses to the world about her, hearing light footsteps fall onto the ground, the sound echoing among her ears. Sighing, Aerian turned around to face the pale-headed stranger.19

The pale blue eyes bore into her, a look intensity, intelligence, and gentleness mingling in them all at once. The silvery hair hung down her face, curtaining her head. Her look was that of a child’s; innocent and naïve; but there was a light of fiery spirit in her eyes, a want for freedom, that set her apart as a seer. 20

A whisper echoed among Aerian’s ear as the seer stepped from the shadows. “I am Kastel.” The whisper broke through the deep silence, and the human voice startled Aerian with a pleasure she had never expected to feel again. The tone of the voice was gentle and soft, and Kastel hummed sweetly a tune that brought back a flash of pain, grief, and then hatred that tore from her throat a soft, echoing scream. Tears clouding her eyes, she whirled away from the stranger, deciding that the best possible way to solve her problem was to ignore it.21

“Please stay, Aerian, I am sorry.” Kastel whispered lightly, her voice as comforting as the wind. Something inside of Aerian prompted her to do just that, and whatever it was, she felt no spark of resentment or bitterness flare up on her. Staring deep into the stranger’s eyes, Aerian noted, puzzled, that there seemed to be a certain amount of life and mystery to the lightly cloaked form, a strange, gentle regality akin to that of an Elvin princess’s.22

When Kastel spoke again, her head was bent and the silvery hair felt in a curtain around her eyes, delicate, child-like face contorted in grief. “Do not give in to your inner darkness.” The strange pleading oddly grated Aerian’s nerve, though there was no reason for it, and again the stranger brought tears of anger, hatred, and grief to her eyes, mingling with salty sweat from her forehead. Whirling around, she went on her way through the darkness of the alley, ignoring all else but the anger damming up in her heart, aware of nothing else but the bitter hatred for the world that was gradually building up, preparing for an inevitable, disastrous end.23

Looking up at Aerian leaving, Kastel knew that was too late to work any differences in the girl’s heart, knew that the darkness had already taken a strong hold on her and would not late go. Tears of pity crept to her ears; tears that she kept unshed as she watched through blurry vision as the figure retreated deeper into the darkness. 24