The Mark of Aether

The Gate

Soft nails were claws, harsh as stones that snaked their way up to us. And as we thought darkness was settling, more was waiting.

From the gates, pure demons emerged. The once rich sky bled until the sun turned red. Ice was painted with black, turning tar underneath our boots. As my bow rested tightly in my grasp, I knew we needed more than just an arrow. More than just a weapon.

We needed magic. But none could be reached. None would be as long as we lingered in that world. In that alternate dimension that drained life from our souls.

Hearing the wail of a shooting knife, I ducked past the ice-crafted weapon. The tree shook, sending us all in torn directions. Tumbling against branch to branch, I was tossed aside, breaking my ribs.

Each blow was a hard stab to my lungs and heart. Each breath felt harder, tighter, as air turned too cold. And as I felt boned hands on my shoulders, I speedily jerked, blindly shooting my knife.

Dripping warmness fell upon my face, trailing down the side of my cheek and down my neck. Not rain. Not tears. But blood. A blood black as coal. Thick as poison. And as it fell from my skin to the iced trunk, it left a trail of stream in the thickening air. Pushing the weight of the cadaver pressing me down, I forced the once alive corpse to thud its way down there. But not before I retrieved my knife.

Trying to rise, I found myself stuck to the wood, the cooling tar gluing me down. And wherever that darkness touched, it burned. Wherever it trailed, it killed.

My skin turned red as my insides begged me to move. I pushed myself harder. So much harder that the poison penetrated my back like shards of ice while it harassed my front like showers of arrows.

But I had to break free before it was too late. Before the ramping devil making his way to me made it too late.

The tree trembled as his weight pressed against each inch, sending it shaking by each passing second. Coldness took over my fingertips, my fingers going slack.

My arms were tied, my back still strapped to the branch. And as those dark eyes penetrated my soul, stripped my ever moment, I became fully incapable of moving. I watched with mortified eyes as he slowly pulled his axe, a rueful smile baring his elongated canines, making shudders trace my spine.

Painfully slow, he settled the blade closer to my windpipe, threatening to tear my throat from its place. And as I anticipated to feel warmth on my skin, to feel pain and numbness, to feel death and its angels, I waited.

Waited for a moment that never came.

Appearing from a thin air, an arrow pierced through skin and flesh, cutting into the side of the head. Blood splashed all around, smearing my face and clothing. Heavy and cold, it landed upon my skin as a damned curse.

And from afar, I watched Carter's shadow, feet tied to the sole of the wood. Swifts and dashes swirled in dim light, metal lashing into dark flesh. And, from a lower bottom, Leon and Luthian were having their own fight with what may have been angels before.

As I tried to move, tried to gain control over my body, I ached. And little comfort was it for my heart when a plan brewed in my dulled brain.

Like fire from hell, black blood sizzled against the coldness of ice and coolness of tar, melting it. And as each splash burnt through it with rising smoke, I found my key to freedom. Blood splashed all over me; I did my best to rub it against my wrists and arms. Painful, yes, but it paid off.

As I was halfway through cleaning my body, I pulled some from the wound of the devil lying close to my feet. Brushing the thick blood against the tip of my arrow, I shot it straight at Carter. Catching it with two fingers, he was quick to catch on. Using all the blood pooled against him, he burnt the tar and dipped his boot in it. Like what I did.

And as I peered to where Mayra was, I watched her lacerating the throat of one misfortunate black angel. Luck played for her as the tar hadn't reached her. Neither the still fighting boys.

Jumping from one branch to the other, the beasts fled, running at lightning speed. And as the tree shook once again did I understood.

From the side gates, more beasts emerged. More than to be counted. More than to be able to damn. The tree swayed left and right, the roots tearing from their places, the gates wavering.

Following Luthian and Leon, we climed the tree, using our knives to dig our support in the still ice coating the upper trunk. Running a two hundreds-seventy degrees, Luthian halted, forcing us all to a brusque pause.

Staring from the highest point of the place, horror bloomed at the speed we were followed. Wasting no time, Luthian spoke his commands.

"Down, at the lowest pond, is our escape. One by one we jump.''

And for a moment, I lapsed, wondering if I heard right.

''Did you just say we jump?'' I asked, the distance raising too much doubts.

''No time to explain.''

And with that, a hard push thudded against my back, throwing me through dangling branches and tearing air.

And as I swayed from one side to the other, I fell to the gate, splashing through the rippling surface of light. And unlike how we came, this sensation was warm. Too warm against my freezing skin that it hurt. Like burning needles stuck to my skin. And as light swallowed me, that world died. But not before I heard several other splashes, the faint shadows of my comrades floating above my head.

*****Personal Message*****
The company has made it through the gate in time, but what do you believe is awaiting for them? Comment your thoughts, I would love to hear from you.
If you enjoyed this chapter, please vote. It would mean so much.
The picture in the media box above is a map of Rimelia. Hope it will clarify how the journey will go. Kindly note that this is my very first try in designing and drawing a map.
Next chapter will be up on Saturday, 22. Until then, have a good day.