TRA: A Scarlett Tale

Chapter 4: Remnants

Drillohiem

Drillohiem ran, desperate to escape the green beings that followed his every step. "What are these beings?" Drillohiem asked himself, he spoke quietly, under his breath, for fear that they may hear him and attack.

The green beings seemed intent upon following closely behind, but never bothered to get closer. Even so, Drillohiem had felt the cold and chilling embrace of death these creatures inflicted upon those they touch and wished to escape them. 

The land(?) Drillohiem ran on was smooth and flat. Nothing obscured his footing and yet, Drillohiem found it difficult to move with each step. Drillohiem could help but think for a moment of how this felt like a nightmare he had as a child. He could see his goal in sight, yet his legs couldn't, wouldn't move quick enough and soon, he would be caught by the monsters that chased him.

Just as Drillohiem's strength was about to give out, a doorway appeared before him. Stumbling through the door, Drillohiem quickly turned around without examining the room and closed the door. Drillohiem laid his head upon the door, panting from the unaccustomed exercise, it was cooling to Drillohiem's fevered skin.

Drillohiem didn't think to turn around and search to see if any of those things were in this room, or even if this was a room. Drillohiem didn't know where he was nor did he bother to care, all that mattered was a moment's rest and the cool touch of the door.

Sounds started forming behind Drillohiem, the sound of someone clearing their throat, the shifting of movement, whispers. Drillohiem turned around, his hand instinctively going to Oathbreaker. Before him lay a round table and sitting at the table were several of the green creatures, but these seemed different. Unlike those outside of this room, these hadn't tried to reach out to him, nor had they tried to touch him.

"Drillohiem," one said, "come sit. We have much of great importance to discuss."

Drillohiem looked around the room and silently reached for the door. It was gone, replaced by empty air.

"We sent the door away, for now, and will bring it back once our meeting has concluded." Another said.

Cassandra

Cassandra stood in the practice fields for her soldiers. Since her experience with The Reaper, Grall, Cassandra had confined herself to her room, permitting none entry, this was her first day in the sunlight. 

Cassandra raised her sword and took a fighting stance. Her sword arm felt weak, probably from the time she spent locked up in her room. She had refused most forms of nourishment, only eating or drinking when it was necessary. Her once beautiful white skin now sagged and had the appearance of the dead.

No one would tell her this for fear that she may lock herself up once more. Cassandra knew, however, and, at first, had resolved to just leave it. She had no desire to fight or lead, she only desired death. She should have been killed by Grall, but because Tyril stopped him, she lived. 

Cassandra cursed Tyril under her breath as she swung her sword, fumbling with the hilt as it landed a blow on the practice dummy. Cassandra winced as a stinging pain shot through her arm. 

Gritting her teeth, Cassandra tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword. Death was in her future, but she wouldn't go out the way Grall had wanted her to. She was a proud warrior and would die as such.

Jaxale

Jaxale and Dronde landed in an empty field, the snow crunching under Dronde's talons. Jaxale swiftly threw his legs over Dronde's side and climbed down. 

"This is the place." Jaxale said as he looked around, searching for what he came for. "Where do you think he is?"

Jaxale knew the answer and he was thinking the same, but he didn't want to admit it. Dronde leaned down and sniffed at the snow in irritation.