Wingless [Complete]

Chapter 28: Dreams and Bitterness

My feet are walking of their own accord. I don't know where I'm going but I need to get there, wherever it is. I have to. Right now. It's urgent. Move. Move. Quicker. Faster. Hurry, hurry. These thoughts kept ringing through my head getting more and more panicked.

Now I was running. Full speed. Sprinting through the gray. Twisting, turning, avoiding invisible walls and obstacles. It was like it was an invisible maze. The ground beneath my feet is hard and unforgiving while also being so mallible that my ankles twist and turn at strange angles.

I suddenly come to a stop and rest my hands on my knees, gasping for air. I've arrived at my destination.

I look up and my heart nearly stop as I look at the sight in front of me. There is a deathly-looking skeletal woman lying draped across a throne of bones, as if it were her deathbed. Her chest rising with shallow breaths is the only sign that she's still alive. Otherwise, she looks like death herself.

She's so thin that she's all angles, with her sharp elbows and knees, her tight dress outlining her extremely thin waist, and her sunken cheeks. Her skin is devoid of any colour, and has a sickly grey tinge to it. The only things remaining to show that she might have been the most beautiful fey in existence, was the elegant way she held herself, her beautiful high cheekbones and long fingers, and the long, silken, silver hair that flowed over her right shoulder, across her body, and pooled on the floor.

I slowly walk forward a few steps, as if the figure on the throne was calling me. My heart beats fast in anticipation of something unknown to me.

Her eyes fly open and I stop on the spot. I gaze into her eyes. Her purple eyes are dull but still captivating. I can't seem to look away from them. They draw me in.

"Fire . . ." She whispers.

I stand there, frozen. I don't know what to do. The moment she spoke, I sensed the sleeping power within her. It was immense.

"Your hair . . ." Her voice sounded like rustling leaves. Dead leaves scraping against each other. "It's the first bit of colour I have seen in days . . . or is it decades? I know not." She beckons me with one bony finger. "Come here child. Closer."

Once again, my feet move by themselves. I walk forward until I come to a standstill in front of the throne of bones. She reaches one feeble hand out and touches my hair. Her hand shakes as her fingers slip through the strands. The smallest smile appears on her face.

"So beautiful, child. Your hair is so beautiful."

I stay frozen and mute. I don't know what to say; I don't seem to be in command of my body. I simply watch as she marvels over my hair. I dont blame her for admiring the colour. After all, it was the only thing around here that wasn't grey, black, or white. Even my clothes are a silvery grey and my skin had turned a sickly shade of a ash gray; whether that was because of the light in this place or my true skin color at the moment, I know not.

She drew a great, shuddering breath and she let the stand of hair slip slowly through her shaking fingers. She moved her hand up a little to rest her fingertips against my jawline. The touch of her fingers is almost unnoticeable as they brush along my face, over my lips, down my chin, and then finally drops away.

"So young. You are so young and healthy." She whispers. "Be happy. Youth never last long, even for immortals, for there is youth of the body and youth of the mind. You have both. Enjoy it before you see the monsters."

Her eyes start to clean with a wild light. She looks crazed with passion. However the rest of her body remains unmoving. Then her eyes fix themselves to mine.