Mirages-Chapter Three

Chapter Three:1

A twisted, lone peak shot through the mist, the pure white of the uneven mountain face bleached white, the color of bones left out in the sun for an excessive amount of time. Mist shrouded the topmost point of the peak, hiding the glare of the northland sunshine. Twisted trunks rose high to meet the glare of the sun, leafless branches extending like clawed limbs searching for something, or more specifically someone.2

Shadows clung to the vague path meandering between the tall oaks, branches drooping slightly to create a low arch over the path. The lightly boot of the traveler’s feet made no noise but aroused a heavy layer of dust, that, while muffling his footsteps, creating a swirling cloud of choking dirt that filled his nostrils and prevented him from breathing.3

Coughing, he leaned against the soft, chill bark of the oak, allowing the dust to settle before moving on, pressing restlessly into the undisturbed land that had remained empty of all life forms other than the pale shadows that flitted through the cold air, unseen by any save for their kindred.4

The whispering wind sent the drooping branches scraping his shoulders as he trudged restlessly onward, deeper into the land void of living, where no living had trespassed since the dawn of time.5

Moonlight scattered across the sloping ground, gleaming a dull, silvery-white that split through the almost impenetrable darkness with a thin beam of light. The darkness, for the most part, pressed against her, heavy and restricting. It seemed to forbid her of movement; it seemed to suggest to her that any movement would break the cycle of stillness. Her breathing, quiet and calm, sent a chill up her spine at the thought of what evil had caused this.6

Back uneasy and uncomfortable against the cold stone wall, she brushed her hand against its icy surface. It was cold and forbidding, adding further to her apprehension that was brought on by her own unexplainable fears. Shaking them off, Aerian straightened her slightly arched back, hurrying own through the darkness pressing up against her with its chill moisture.7

Her footsteps against the path seemed soundless, but the rising cloud of dust, while muffling he footsteps, brought a cloud of dirt around her throat, mingling in her nose and choking her. Wandering aimlessly through the cold night, Aerian hopelessly went through the alley streets in a vain attempt to find some lighted area to offer her a bit of respite from the inky darkness.8

Kastel moved once again through the corridors of her mind, the chill of the past swarming in on her, leaving her breathless with fright. It was a terror so strong, surging restlessly through her body, that the very aspect of life and the prospect of prospering appeared to be the folly hopes of one that was already dead.9

Blurred images passed her in a rush, some hinting of blood and others of a hazy form that seemed so light it would drift away in the breeze. A whispering seemed to make itself heard in her ears, hinting of death or something like it. Or something worse than it. The fear rushed through her again; stronger and more vivid as she explored the blurry images that were still offered her in a vain attempt to recover the lost prophecy.10

As she neared the last door in the corridor of her mind, a swarm of pale forms rushed against her, hands seeming to extend to caress her arms with chill hands. Moisture seeped into her skin, chilling her into the bone. It was void of warmth and life, and knowing that the image in that room would be too much for her to face a second time, she retreated from her mind, pushing through the barrier that fell away.11

Sweat beading on her forehead, she lurched forward in her chair, scrambling across the floor to where the door was located. Something she had seen there seemed vaguely familiar to her; deep red eyes that pierced through the fathomless Abyss of Time, cutting a whole through her and leaving her breathless with fright. They shone with a vicious malevolence and a love for cruelty that appalled and frightened her. And they seemed familiar to her, as if she had seen the frightful apparition before.12

Hand tracing the length of the chill cliff, he murmured a few words under his breath. Far above him, at the summit of the peak jutting up to meet the bland sky and pale sun, a darkness swirled around, showing faint traces and vague hints of shapes, and ever now and then deep red eyes seemed to shatter the world. Following the cliff upwards, he stared deep into the eyes, and they seemed to be focused on him alone, piercing deep through his skin and into his mind. They seemed to know his strengths and weaknesses, and the stout-hearted traveler felt a quiver of fear pass through him.13

Averting his gaze to the sloping ground beneath his feet, he wearily made his way down the meandering path. Pale branches seemed to reach for him, and the wind whispered dire secrets to his ears as it harshly stroke his short, tousled hair. Brushing hair from his eyes, he shivered in the chill of the wind working deeper into the cold northland than even the story books of long ago described, into the heart of the land itself and closer by each footstep to the Dark City of Kurl.14

Day had long since risen into the city by the time her feet paused, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she sagged against the wall in weariness. Breathing franticly for air, she felt the darkness close in on her as it had earlier, dark and forbidding, and strangely familiar. It was creeping in on her, closing in, encircling her, and though her eyes tried franticly to grapple with reality and fiction, the two seemed blurred together, dancing oddly in a smooth rhythm void of joy and life. Something was wrong, and as much as Aerian hated to admit it, it could well prove the end of her and the others alive in the city.15

Once again she raced through the sunlit streets, feeling darkness brushing lightly against her, hearing the wind whisper secrets to her, caressing her hair and cheeks. Steadily and smoothly, her feet pounded against the alley streets as she raced with all her might, unnerved by the emptiness in even these parts and fully aware of the implications of it.16