Mirages-Chapter Four

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Chapter Four:2

Trees cast a myriad of patterns at his feet, constant and changing, mingling together with the bright fall leaves. Like a silver ribbon winding through the trees, the stream added its sweet melody to the sounds of daytime. Oddly, he felt relieved to have gotten as far from the close confines of the city as he could, though it was his home and he felt destined to protect it in some way. The vacation was a needed one, if not an almost unwelcome one. But he couldn’t escape the shadows.3

They were everywhere, dancing about him in a slow, steady rhythm that changed every few minutes and never had a definite pattern. It left him feeling oddly detached from his mind, left him in a state of utter blankness from which there seemed to be no return. The chill wind whispered to him in warning, telling him to be wary of the gathering darkness, but Jwerin refused to listen to it, refused to give in to his impulses to flee into the Unknown. They were born of his unwanted fear, but if one gave into fear…4

He refused to think about it. Leaning against a tree, Jwerin gazed at the banks of the river, disappearing into the distance like nothing more than faint shimmer of silvery light on the distant horizon. Standing up, Jwerin began to pick up his various things, slinging them into his backpack and began the four-mile walk to the city, muttering to himself, "If all is well then why does the darkness continue to grow so large"? With the wind whispering in his ear, caressing his cheek gently, and throwing back strands of brownish hair into his eyes, he pushed with the last remnants of dwindling strength in him to fight against the ever present fear. His booted feet fell with quickening rhythm to the leaf-carpeted ground, rapidly descending in a frightening downward motion. 5

The darkness settled about her heart, subtle and fragile. The merest rays of sunlight seemed a warmth of immeasurable portions, but the brightest rays seemed to scatter harmlessly through the darkness, refusing to intrude in her darkness. It was all so familiar to her, that it would be thus, and indeed the darkness seemed to her a thing to cling to. But the more she thought things over in her mind, the more frightening the thoughts became to her, seeming to grow to dazzling heights that left her breathless with terror.6

Opening her lips, she tried to mutter something, tried to warn them, but the warning seemed to not be able to come to her lips and fell into silence. Darkness continued to oppress her, all the while the faint illusions of color and light swept through her darkened mind with frightening ferocity, the wind shrieking its shrill warning in her ear. And the agony that swept through her closed lids was unlike any other, was almost distant and somehow vague, though there could be no doubt that it was something real, something frighteningly real.7

With daylight flooding through her partially open lids, Aerian muttered incoherently the last words from a forgotten dream, waving her hands as if to dispel the last remnants of darkness from her. Quickly, Aerian jolted upright, eyes wide and almost unseeing, staring at the impenetrable darkness of the branches. The chill crept into her heart, and the memory of the dream seemed to confine her in the shadows, motionless and lifeless, as her eyes were directed into the darkness occupying the other side of the path from where she slept. And the red eyes bore deep into her heart, savage, cruel, and heartless, seeming to pierce through every fragment of will her mind forced before it.8

As the last whispers of caution from the only lit corner of her brain swept through her mind, the eyes overwhelmed her with their dazzling brightness and cruel savageness. Head spinning with dizzying fear and heart hammering against her chest, Aerian instinctively launched herself to her feet, waving her arms in a vain attempt to ward off the darkness. Yet the eyes, the piercing, deep, blood-red eyes, seemed to dig deeper into her very skin with agonizing quickness, darkening her thoughts, but with a subtlety and gentleness that succeeded in frightening Aerian more than the cruelty of those eyes did.9

As soon as fear began to register itself in her, she felt with startling certainty that the eyes, piercing into the very depths of her heart, were stealing something from her, something that mere words would do nothing to gain back. And then a voice swept through her mind, melodious and ringing with false gaiety. They are fools. Listen not to their false predictions of what will be your legacy. Chose for yourself whether or not you shall walk the path chosen for you, the one of good that will eventually kill you, or the road that all wise ones eventually take, the one of power and glory that will earn you a special position in the scheme of things. You are great, Daughter of Evil, and whether or not you know it the power you wield is great. If not cared for, if not carefully cultivated, it will grow beyond even your tremendous will. Listen not to those fools. You wield power beyond even mine. Together we can be so great, but without me you will be so weak and helpless. They are fools. They will prove your downfall, if you chose to listen to their predictions. Especially that witch. We both know of whom I speak. 10

As surely as the apparition and the dread were real, so was the voice. It seemed to echo with evil of unthought of proportions, with a primordial savageness that echoed back to the dawn of time. Truly such power was without equal. So awed was she at the thought of somehow gaining the respect of such a being that she did not notice the voice speaking again, going on to a topic that forced Aerian into anger and rage beyond control.11

Remember what they did to you? Remember how they tore apart your life, bit by bit, piece by piece, scattering them on the wind? How they ruined your mother and your father? How they cruelly ripped apart and killed everyone and anyone that you had ever cared about? I know you still see those patient, calm brown eyes, so full of tender love and care...you do remember your own mother, don't you? I know how much you want, no you need, revenge, revenge that we can gain together. 12

Echoing the word in her mind, Aerian slowly dropped to her knees, noting how sweet and smooth it sounded, resounded continuously in her head. It seemed to slip off of her tongue with a pleasant sound, intriguing. She would have it...if not for her mother than for herself. 13

Unknown to her, a tear slipped from her eyes as she thought about her mother, her calm, loving mother. She had been there. She had seen them, cruelly throwing her into the dungeon, how her limp body had slammed against the wall, eyes staring pleadingly into the dark niche of the dark corridor, prompting her daughter to leave. And being the coward she had been, she had done exactly that, fleeing through the darkness without a thought for her mother's fate. And she was dead. 14

Balling her hands up in fists, she turned to give her answer to the cloaked shadow, to find the cruel red eyes had been placed with worrying pale blue eyes. A knot of fear gripped her stomach, and then a tide of anger swept through Aerian so strong that she knew there was no escaping it.15

"Kastel.” She whispered the name like a curse. "I thought you had gone forever. It would have been better had it been so". Kastel, seeing the anger radiated from Aerian, held back, but not because of fear.16

"I felt her presence. I truly did. It was coming from right where you stand, and it still is. I fear for you, fear for what is likely to be the truth. Her magic, no matter how fragmented it is, never truly goes away from a person that she has in her grasp.” Aerian shoved Kastel back forcefully, not seeing the worry or the pain and helplessness in Kastel's eyes. So blinded by her hate was she that she watched Kastel leave, eyes narrowed, and then collapsed in a heap in the shadows of the path, a scream of rage tearing from her throat and tears blinding her eyes. 17