Shadows of Ember

Chapter Seven

The forest felt different as I entered; I no longer felt as though it was a safe haven. The trees stood utterly still, the sentinels of a silent living museum, where no leaf dared to fall. As the mist crept in, it seeped through the corridors, brushing over the dusting of deciduous needles that blanketed the floor, caressing the lichen-encrusted bark of the ancients. Damp clung to the surrounding air and leached its way into my boots. My eyes glanced around, Laura was in the perfect environment for camouflage. Any pile of ferns or bush could be her, and with this impervious mist shrouding the forest, my eyes struggled to adjust.

‘Laura!’ I cupped my hands to my mouth and called, my fearful voice radiating and bouncing off the trees. I began to step forward, each footprint caused dewed grass to caress my legs, sending a fleeting shiver through my body.

Silence loomed all around as I made my cautious steps through the bracken. The mere snap of a twig would reverberate into the atmosphere, yet the only noise I heard was my own. Everything else hung still in the air.

As I progressed into the denser heart of the forest, a familiar burning scent caught my attention. I couldn’t distinguish what was mist and what was smoke; it was all mixed in together. This new, unnatural, choking mist that swirled and sprawled through the forest floor was the first thing that spoke of a strange sort of wrongness. It was thicker, more impenetrable than usual; the sickly white substance possessed the properties similar to that of the milky look contained in a dead man’s eyes.

The smoke made no sound; it merely parted, allowing for visual placement of my feet, only to swallow them up once a safe location was found. As I trudged on forwards, the first, bloodcurdling sound reached my eardrums. It came from up ahead.

‘LAURA!’ I screamed, no longer being restrained as I raced forwards, the noise intensifying.

Suddenly, a finger of light poked through the phantasmal gas, streams of golds and reds filtering their way towards me. The stench of burning intensified and caused my eyes to well up and clamp shut; a single tear parted with my cheek and disappeared into the milky abyss below.

Blinded, I made my way forwards, arms reaching out to grasp the rough bark in search for a trail. This time, a long, rumbling howl rang in my ears. I coughed back the smoke and risked opening my eyes.

The mist had parted, revealing a familiar location; both in reality and dreams. Rubbing the last of the dense mist from my eyes, I glanced at my surroundings. Both nothing and everything had changed.

The mirrored lake remained in its usual position, resting in the centre of the clearing. Yet, instead of reflecting the star-spangled sky, it was a deep black void. The willow, which once caressed the skin of the water with its jade fingers, now stood as a barren, lifeless stick of charcoal; no more vibrant than the rusted streetlamps that lined the roads in town.

The overhang at the far side of the lake loomed ever closer, and cast a great shadow across the clearing. There were no signs of a fire, but I had been wrong before. I darted my eyes around the clearing, my voice cracked as it dried out.

‘Where are you?’ I attempted to call out, but only a whisper escaped.