Of Ancient Passages: Chapter 3: Dying

How did it come to this? How did she worm her way into living with him? He tried to kick her out. Nevertheless, she sneaks back in. Since then he has given up completely. Each night he would give her his bed and each morning she is curled up with him.

She must be tormenting him. Like an unwanted relationship spiraling out of control. An undead stalker, come to give him a twisted relief of loneliness. Wherever he goes, she follows. For Sol there is only one question: why?  

He stands on the edge of the Honeysweet River. D’ereen plays some ways off. She is happy among the trees. In his mind is the image of a corpse. He knows what she really is. It scares him and he cannot shake it away, or her.

Alunda’s words bubble in his skull. He had missed his chance. Now he would never find the adventure he wants. The water runs fast. A rocky drop to the bottom. A long drop.

Depression shakes his core, ending it could be so easy. After all what did he have? Life has no meaning for the dead and dying. If he moves just a little, he might fall. He began to edge to the end. Rocks plummet down.

A dead silence hushes around him, hoping for the spectacle of his death. Watching and waiting; yearning to see. Even the trees want to see what he will do. Then he heard the taunt of the water. Sol needs only drop down and all the pain would disappear. In one easy plunge, it can all be over.

Villagers cannot despise the dead, they would not even notice. He lifts his foot into the open air and lets it linger. He began to have doubts. What about the girl? Sure, he did not know her. But what if she needs him. No, only a fool needs someone like him.

Who would miss him? Who would care and lament his passing? The girl? People do not miss whom they do not know. No poem will be sung for him. No prophecy to burn his heart. No joy, no happiness, his way is only numbness and the world of cold.

Sol pitches forward. “Mine is a sickness unknown to the world. I alone feel its chains, its heavy burden. I feel such pain it shall make the undergloom agonize. Here amongst the trees I fade from memory, and with it, my heart goes. Inside myself, there is a long black sea of blades and daggers, that burn with tainted edges. I’ve been poisoned with loneliness, I know its despair. Open dismal gates of the undergloom, grin well imps and demons for you sup well tonight!”

Dropping, his heart gives no remorse. Sol expects to feel the green flames of the dead engulf him. Instead, flakes of his skin peel away to embers. He smashes against the water hurt by its icy sting. Plunged he wonders if Hatabis will come to greet him personally. He cannot hold his breath any longer this is it!

Something begins to pull him up, despite the rush of the river. Like a giant hand wrapping about his body. It is not something physical but residual and full of power. He takes a large breath of air, the feeling disappearing. Something hot beats throughout his veins, and then just like that it is gone. The current drags him forward.

D’ereen saw him take a tumble over the edge, she runs to see. He races down the intrepid river. He smashes his head into a large rock. Is he dead? What should she do? Before wasting any more time, she dashes down to the riverbank. Searching, there is no one.

Hysterical she looks harder. Nothing. Taken by Hatabis it seems. Anguish falls upon her. Shaking her head, stubborn refusal rises. She has to find him. She has to. If D’ereen loses him, she will not forgive herself.

D’ereen moves up and down the riverbed, still finding nothing. “I will find you, I must. I can’t lose you.”

She shouts his name, starting to dribble. Why would she cry for him? The sun glints on something. Running towards it her heart leaps with joy. His body is full of dirt and weeds. What she mistakes for blood is his skin, where it splashed against water and rock.

He is virtually unharmed. I mean aside from the redness. She punches him in the chest. Lip quibbling. He spits up water. She moves back giving him room to breathe. Short shallow breaths come but he is alive.

“Am I dead?” He asks.

She cannot hold back her tears. “No, no you are not.”

Next thing he knew he was in bed. The world is still tangible he is still here. His skin burns with every soft touch of the sheets. Sol’s clothes had been changed and he is embarrassed. She becomes more perplexing. Why did she save him?

D’ereen comes around the corner with a tray of soup and bread. She smiles at him setting the tray down. Her smile makes him feel guilty. Quite cozy in his bed he rolls over. So he can better see. He can see the red around her eyes.

“You took a nasty spill. Don’t hang over any cliffs from now on.”

So she does not know. She cannot see I am not okay, not mentally. Well I cannot tell her anyway. What would be the point? Confess myself to a stranger. To some deranged dokkilalfer. So she can have pity on me. No way, this is my burden and I will carry all its brunt.

He gets lost in her eyes. Water lingers in the pools of purple. Hands shake and he spills the soup on himself. All over his crotch making him jump. She grabs a towel and pats him dry, Sol tries to take it from her but she is stubborn. Was that a grin he saw?

She takes the bowl from him putting it in her lap. Drowning the spoon, it fills with soup. Cooling and holding it up for him. There is awkwardness while he does not eat. She signals it is okay. Shyly he has some.

He gets up. “Where are you going?” She asks.

Struggling thousands of needles press against his skin. “I’m going for a walk.” In truth, he feels strange, compelled to get away, not just from her but all people.

She quickly gets up barring his way. Her delicate fingers press gingerly on his shoulders. “You need to sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

She squints looking at him. “Really because I don’t think so, your skin is much too red. It looks incredibly painful.”

The way she says it makes him feel guilty, besides, she seems to be right. “Really I’m okay.” The room begins to spin. “Okay, you may be right.”

Wrapping her arms around him, pulling him to the bed. “Just lay down. You’ll feel better soon.”

“Funny, I remember living alone a short while ago. How in all the worlds did this happen?”

A cute smile sweeps her face, hips swaying. “You’re just lucky I guess.”

He lies down. “Who are you really?”

“I am D’ereen really.”

“Who is D’ereen?”

She trails her finger on his chest. “Don’t ask so many questions. Rest now.”

“But—“

“Don’t be a gentleman Sol, time to sleep.”

Is he a gentleman? He does not think so; he is left speechless. The door is closed plushly. She is gone. He has to take it all in stride. Sucking in a great breath of air, he lets it out slowly. Nerves fall away.

Eyes droop, growing heavy. Sleep drags him away with hurried hands. Dreams are far more fantastic and ethereal. Comfort to the mind. Nothing can ravage the veil. Nothing can really hurt you, unlike the real world.

It seems like he was asleep only a moment, when he heard a knocking. He hops out of bed to see the matter. Stretching and yawning in awakeness. He tries to drive away the daze of dreams but it is slow work. The knocking gets louder. As if from a matter of urgency, or perhaps something to add to Sol’s growing collection of weirdness.

D’ereen bursts into the room. “Expecting anyone?”

“No. Rare few come here.” He says.

Her hands change in drastic appearance. Becoming white fur paws with black stripes. Flexing, talons appear, sharp as razors. A short fright escapes his lips. Sol is not as scared as he should be. He is gradually growing use to expecting strange things. But he is not accustomed to seeing them.

Sol opens the door an inch or so, peaking through. It slams against him hard, stumbling. The person runs into the room. Before he can go, much farther D’ereen jumps on his back. She knocks the person from his feet. He makes a loud noise as the air escapes his lungs.

Sol can see the intruders face. She is about to stick her talons into jugular, a perfected move, I do not doubt. Yelling for her to stop, she does. Climbing off the man’s back. He yanks the hood from the intruders face.

He smiles at the wizard. A startled face looks back. His hair is full of mats. There is dry mud on the fringe of the cloak. Color is lost from his face. What has he been doing?

Sol helps him to a chair. He does not speak. Lost in thought about something. Whatever vexes him to come here is bad news. Sol’s eyes move to D’ereen, she is wearing little, one of his shirts and panties. No bra hinders the movement of her breasts. He flushes.

Alunda looks to her. “What’s this? When I first met this boy, I fingered him to live alone. I did not know he has someone special.”

She grabs Sol’s arm, breasts pressing freely. “D’ereen…could you….” He says feeling expressively awkward.

She speaks amorous of Sol. “I’m his and no other man may have me. Don’t get any ideas you weirdo.” She says as sticking her tongue out.

Alunda chuckles. “I was only joking. I wouldn’t pry him from his girlfriend.”

She blushes happily; he blushes for a different reason. What is going on? How could this all turn so normal? It starts to feel vivid. Only a week back he was living quiet and undisturbed. How of all the places in this world did they find this one?

“Why have you come back?” Sol asks.

“I have run into a few complications. Your home was the fastest place I could reach. No one in Kyre knows me. I would have let you be, as you wanted. I must stay hidden for a few days, at all personal cost to myself.”

“Why who searches for you?” She asks.

Alunda explains. “It’s not who it’s more of a what. I sought to seek an old friend at Thrott, the nearest wizarding academy. Use him to contact the council at Exezla. What I found there was only shattered glass and fire. One of them stood out front. I could swear it saw me and smiled. A few students and one of the teachers ran to Hylthen. They were killed. I left as soon as I could. I was followed.”

“Dreadful!” Tension boils in her voice.

Alunda’s face scrunches showing the creases around his eyes. “I evaded most of them. I cannot tell you how many followed that night. The next day only one remained it was persistent and narrow was my escape. I made sure they could not trace me here, to my savior.”

How can someone be a savior when he cannot save himself?
She bites her lip. “Only one thing comes to my mind when you speak of such utter destruction. It is impossible, thought, they sleep dormant, presumed to never wake or stir. Their eyes, it is said, is yellow as piss.  Hair and skin are whiter than the snow on a winter night. They appear as children with smiles that cause madness and sometimes--even death. Their presence chills the air. Voices twisted—causing doubt and fear.”  

“What are you talking about?” Sol asks.

They look at each other before gazing at him, confirming their worry. They say the word together. “Darklers!”

The wizard explains. “You see when the first dark lord, Grimdas, was destroyed. Zaladen took the ashes and fused them with a part of him. It is said, he took the last good of Grimdas and a portion of his own evil making them into one being. Thus, he had his great servants. They are only a small matter in the bigger picture. Shentra, it seems, has found a way to free their lord, from the Wall of Penstare.”

“How can he be set free?” Asks the boy.

Alunda thinks about it. “There are many rumors and myths about opening the Wall or destroying him entirely. Weapons crafted by alfen and the like. So many stories are told too many possibilities. Hard to think on to decide which, the ideas are all too endless. Tomorrow I will leave, I promise. Tonight I have to rest.”

“Tonight we will rest and tomorrow we will go.”

“’We?’” Wonders Alunda.

“I could not say it before, I do crave excitement. You caught me by surprise last time. I have been alone for so long. I am not use to talking to people, it is odd to be around any, and it is all different now. It is time for a change.”

“I see and I am glad you have reconsidered. Where does that leave her?”

Before Sol could say anything, she speaks up. “I am coming along. I won’t leave him.”

“I expected as much. Fine, you can come along. I wish only we were under better conditions. This may be difficult. As if, anything was ever easy. Anyway, I am very tired. Let’s call it a night.”

Sol points to the door at the end of the hall. “You can have that room. There is a bathroom in there. Mind the shower, the spirit is old and it takes him a few minutes to run the water.”

“Thank you.” Alunda heads to his room. The door shuts with a light thud.

D’ereen pulls him into his room. The pain makes him ache. She motions to the bed. Taken by surprise he heads for the door. She throws out her arms blocking the way. A mischievous glint shines in her eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Lay down.” She giggles.

“Why, what are you going to do?”

“Just lay down silly.” She blows out the light.

Too tired and sore, he cannot resist. He just wants to sleep, hoping for the pain to go away. She snuggles close to him. Her hands snake down to his thighs. He slaps them away; she does not try it again. Both fall asleep quickly.