The frail body of the young woman shivered as a gust of wind swept across her makeshift shelter for the night. She had bravely fought to fend off the luring call of sleep while sitting there alone in the dark with only her fear of the shrill screams of the wind as her companion. The toll of her desperate search for a path to lead her home had proven too much, however. She was now fast asleep, snoring ever so quietly.
It was odd, almost as if under a spell, she could fall asleep despite the eerie howling of the wind in these overgrown ruins of the once so proud Fearghal an Dun. Ever since the clansmen had left Fearghal an Dun, there had been rumours... dark rumours. Some said a small band of Fearghals had been left behind - for reasons unknown. And that they had been corrupted, darkened by the betrayal of their kinsmen. It was said that the arcane power of the Crionna had taken hold of the place, twisting and corrupting the very soul of the Dun.
Others yet, claimed that no living being had stayed behind. That Fearghal an Dun was now only home to darkened souls of the Fearghal legends come back from their graves, forever haunting the ruins.
Again, a gust of wind swept across the ground cold as ice. An abourn lock of hair was dancing in the air for a moment, then fell to rest on her bosom, as she sighed gently in her sleep. Her eyes twitched as she was dreaming, and she bit her lower lip as she subconsciously felt the presence of a figure watching her from the shadows. With a satisfied smile lingering in his eyes he breathed in deeply - his mouth slightly open, holding his nose upwards into the air, like a beast of the wilds. As he exhaled, a strong odour of musk crept its way into the young girl's nostrils. She wiggled her nose and made a satisfied sigh, then opened her eyes slowly.
He spoke with a voice unlike anything she had ever heard. Quiet, like rain drops falling on the soft forest bed on a spring morn. Powerful, like the distant rumble of thunder from an approaching summer storm. Eerie, like the shrill call of an autumn crow. Crisp like footsteps on winter's first snow.
”You have come to us.”
[PS: Again a special thanks to Oculus for his inspirational writting that makes our imagination grow wild ]
Last edited by Silvara-CF; 3rd December 2010 at 10:00..
Opening her eyes she blinked. Lying in a ditch a little outside Brandoc she sat up, stretching her neck that felt slightly cramped. Reaching her hand to rub it her fingers touched a few scratches at the base, right next to the colar bone.
Scattered images of the night before raid her mind, fading with each passing moment. She tried to cover up her half naked body with the torn shreds that used to be her dress. The face of a man seemed to come to her mind, only the details of it escaped her; all but his eyes. Those blood shot bestial eyes that locked her gaze and made him irresistible to her.
She tried to stand up only to crumble back to the ground. Her body seemed to ache everywhere, scratches all up her thighs. Yet what happened last night still eluded her. She sat there trying to remember where she was, what she was doing there; how did she ever come to be half naked in a ditch outside the village. Yet nothing came to mind more than a flood of questions; nothing but those eyes, piercing through her soul, that and those feelings of a recently passed moment of unprecedented ecstasy and a cutting sting of an insatiable hunger.
A distant crack in the woods behind her made her jump up on her feet with a speed that astounded even her. She sniffed the air and could swear that a large hare was grazing the short grass only 10 feet away from her. Before she could realize how she even knew that in the first place she saw herself covering the distance as if she was possessed by her hunger, a hunger that gnawed her insides. She jumped on the poor pray that never really stood a chance against her powerful grip. Sitting back basking in the moonlight a few drops of blood trickled down her hand as she tried to make sense of the night that had passed, and who she now was.
The snow fell in small clutters like crystal feathers. The setting sunlight was so bright, yet wore such soft colours that defied description. The cavernous Crionna tower was but a ruin, yet no wind nor chill could reach him here. It was beautiful as he reached Fearghal an Dun in a state of panic.
Sweat and blood became one as delicate streams formed across his sunburnt face. Whispers could be heard in the wind. Maybe one of his lost companions? His hands trembled as he breathed in deeply. He closed his eyes.
And it came. A tidal wave of calm washed away all his fears. A monumental serenity was all that was left in its wake. It was a sensation of such profound spirituality that he would think of it every day for the rest of his life.
How long he stayed in this state was without meaning. The eternal light transcended time. Around him the tower shook as a great portion of the roof tore off spiralling towards the ground. The meter thick carpet of snow cushioned the fall as eerie thuds could be heard echoing around the courtyard's walls. He was completely aware of what was going on around him, but was poised in a statuesque hypnotic state that gave no hints of his sentience.
And they watched him, spoke with him, embraced him.
[PS: Again a special thanks to Oculus for his inspirational writting that makes our bones shiver ]
Last edited by Silvara-CF; 22nd December 2010 at 08:36..
The heat lingered like a wet cloth, even though the sun had set a good hour earlier. Elyssa leaned on the wall behind her, the stones still warm from the sun. She could hear the faint music coming from inside the Serpent Heads Inn. The water in front of her glittered in the moonlight and she closed her eyes keeping that image in her head.
He had sought her out and asked her to go north, back to her old ties…memories she has tried to burry deep inside her. I never be ready, she thought.
Rumours were going round about a harsh cold that was tormenting the North. Making every hermit coming down from the mountains seeking shelter in more populated areas. She believed that everything is connected, like silver strings moving through the earth and skies. There was no coincidence that he asked her to go north. If the balance had shifted to one side... There will be consequences... Something was hiding in the cold North, something every bit as terrible as Yig.
Time to go back to Cimmera. I’m sure choosing my timing.
Last edited by Angel-of-Sins; 26th December 2011 at 05:29..