Submission (#5709) Approved

Sariel was dazed and disoriented, unsure of where to go next.  Darkness surrounded him, thick and suffocating with a haze or fog that seemed too heavy and dark for the normal refreshing coolness of Kyendi’s mists.  He turned his head, struggling to make sense of his surroundings.  Looking about, he could not discern any familiar landmarks – only odd twisted trees, bristly grasses, and the ever present swirling dark fog.

Cautiously, Sariel stepped forward, measured and deliberate.  He moved with trepidation, keeping low to the ground, aware that there could be danger lurking in every shadow.  His ears pricked, but the air was heavy with an oppressive silence, broken only by the sound of own beating hear thudding against his ears.  He made a conscious effort to stay hidden, frequently flicking his gaze underfoot to ensure he did not give his location away by a sudden rustle of snap of a twig.  Something about this land, the air, the undergrowth itself, made his fur stand on end, sure that danger lurked just a breath away.

The land beneath his feet felt unfamiliar and unnerving.  The ground reminded him vividly of what he had seen – the shattered island, leached of color, the oily sheen of the miasma barrier, decaying everything it touched.  It felt tainted, corrupted.  The landscape before him was a surreal tapestry, a copy of what had lain beyond that barrier – miasma tainted the land with its venomous purple swirling to deep blue and dripping black.  He startled when he saw a dark crystal floating two feet above the ground, casting a distorted reflection upon the soil and plants below, giving the plants an eerie pallor.

Dread grew in Sariel’s chest, a lump forming, as he continued forward, catching a glimpse of oily waters, reflecting the light from the dark crystals.  He felt watched, as if something was curled within the crystals, as if something lay just beneath the surface of the slick water of the lake just beyond.

Amidst the disorienting haze, a scream shattered the silence – shrill with panic and pain.  A dying creature bellowing for its last hope.  Startled, Sariel jerked forward, before he heard the voice call again – a grating, ratcheting cry for help that cut off as abruptly as it had begun.  His heart skipped a beat as recognition washed over him – that voice.  That voice.  He would recognize that voice anywhere.  It had haunted his dreams and nightmares and early waking memories for as long as he could remember.

Driven by a sudden rush of adrenaline and an instinct to act, Sariel broke into a sprint, legs pumping to carry him to the sound of the desperate plea, ignoring the slimy water clinging to his feet, the buffeting plants that batted him with spines, the crystals looming like sentinels overhead.

He ran along the shores of a slick oily lake, gleaming purple in the darkness, necessity driving him forward.  Something dashed out of the corner of his eye—impossibly massive and hulking, a snarl ripping from his throat.  Sariel was turning now, slipping on the wet sands of the shore as his paws scrambled for the purchase necessary to turn sharply away from the creature.

It, too, slipped on the sands, stumbling so that its jaw smacked hard against the ground.  That barely slowed it, however, as its teeth snapped wildly, snarling and gurgling at Sariel’s tail.

It was a thing of nightmares – Sariel was afraid of even acknowledging what it was.  Its body was composed of a dark violet energy, like shadows, twisted and contorted until it barely resembled anything that could be living.  Should be living.  Plates and scales covered its body like erupting growths, and its eyes glowed, unblinking.  Fixed on Sariel.  A desperate sort of starving hunger leaking from its malevolent gaze.

Fear propelled Sariel’s paws, spurred on by the same wild panic that prey felt before its predator.  The lone deer knowing its only hope was to outrun the pack of wolves at its heels. 

Wet sand kicked up from his paws as his efforts dug runnels into the shore.  He ran as if his body was built for nothing but running, his heart echoing a manic beat in his ears.  The creature followed, its size ensuring that, while initially slow, its momentum helped it pick up speed, snarling, gurgling, hissing as its massive bulk reached for the kittom.

Desperately, Sariel climbed over a rock outcropping in his path, hoping that, for some recklessly lucky reason, the creature could not climb.  But as he reached its top, he turned to see the creature just behind, slipping on pebbles, but relentless in its pursuit of him.  He gasped, turned to face the waters of the lake just below, and with little hope, ran to it, jumping to plunge himself beneath the surface of the lake.

That was where horror hollowed out his stomach.  The liquid, though it seemed to be water, was unlike anything he had ever encountered.  It clung to his fur and mouth and eyes, clung to him as if it too, wanted to drag him beneath its depths to devour him.  He kicked his legs, but the thick liquid resisted his attempts to swim, the viscosity weighing him down, making his movements clumsy and heavy.

Sariel fought until his muscles screamed against the oppressive current, struggling just enough for his mouth to break the surface of the lake, breathing in a lungful of breath that felt like glass on his lungs.  He kicked again, panic threatening to overwhelm him as his burning muscles exhausted and weakened.  He struggled to push his head above the surface once more, but found himself sinking deeper into the lake.  The eerie light of those ever present crystals fading into darkness.

His eyes jolted open, and he sat upright in his bed, drenched in sweat, heart twisting in his chest, and his breath gasping.  He looked around his room, startled by its familiarity, by the soft light of the moon filtering through his window.

A sense of dread coiled in his spine – a daeva?  And that voice—?

He pressed his paw against his chest and willed himself to calm.  A feeling of foreboding souring his stomach.  When would this end?