Darkness Beside: A Prologue

Before

I dream of an eternal chase. I chase him, he chases me, neither of us gaining nor losing ground. There is balance.

I come upon a great tree. It is permeated by death. From its branches are hung animals of every size and variety, from the rotting remnants of a crow to a freshly dead lamb. Their eyes follow me as I pass. An ox, on the lowest branch, moves its mouth in a mockery of speech. Words like bending metal grate against my ears.

“This ends. With blood comes triumph. You are held-fast.” The truth of the words rings through my existence. I cannot move. The scales tip in his favor. He will escape me, and in that escape he will find me.

The ground and wind herald his approach. Everything shudders, seedlings crack and fall to the forest floor. The animals sway as if a great wind were blowing. I meet each of their gazes in turn. Their eyes draw my attention, each exactly alike.

I shift my gaze and in the distance I see him. He carries a twisted and seared staff of oak in his hand, bits of raw leather wrapped around his chest, draping over his legs, shoulders bare. His uncovered skin is covered with twisting symbols. They writhe like burning paper on his skin. My sword is useless, my hand unmoving at my side. Our eyes meet both knowing that this is an end never imagined. Before there was balance and peace, now there is confrontation and violence.

He lifts the staff overhead and swings it toward the ground. Time slows, all I can see are his eyes, golden in their entirety, and the staff’s final arc. The swing, so fast that I can see the trace of the embers in the air, stretches out, lasting far too long. His mouth moves with words unheard. In the fury of motion the smoldering oak reignites in a burst of sickly red. The flare of red impacts and the ground erupts in a plume of darkness. From a fissure torn by his strike a primeval shadow twists skyward, expanding. It bends and circles, folding around itself until it reaches the firmament. Embodied in formlessness it comes for me. There is nothing left and into that I fall.