The frozen north: Ayrin's journey

No Answers

The black dissipated like fog swept away by a swift wind and Ayrin found himself at the mercy of frightful dreams. That smile tormented him, that thing, demon, monster. Whatever it was. He cried out, but nobody heard him, he thrashed and clawed at the smiling thing but could never seem to reach it.

He saw the face of the man that had impaled him, he remembered the pain, the helplessness. He remembered his parents, with a sharp slap of loss and misery. He slipped in and out of dreams for a long time, the dark nightmare blended with fevered rememberings of the real world. Voices echoed in his head. Shep, concerned. Daramon, appraising with a cold, medical distance. Flint, sounding worried, even fearful. The twins, curious. Even Isiri's voice intertwined with the dreams in a musical manner, her usually harsh tone was soft and sad.

Ayrin had experienced the madness of fever years before, when he was much younger. It was during the heavy middle of winter, he vaguely remembered his mother fussing over him. He was bundled in blankets and slept close to the hearth. But this seemed different, instead of the head-full of cotton and the crazed fear, he was almost completely aware of what he saw. Where he was. What was happening within his mind. He simply felt trapped by his thoughts. It was terrifying.

All of a sudden it was gone. Like rising from freezing water into a warm day. It was refreshing, it felt like he had been holding his breath a long time. He shot up suddenly and breathed in. The sensation of a deep breath felt new, his lungs hurt.

He took in his surroundings: Familiar stone walls, a crackling fire. He was underground again, on the same stone slab. In the corner sat Shep, tired-looking but awake. He didn't seem the least bit startled by Ayrin's awakening. He nodded a small greeting.

Ayrin sat further up and the blanket covering him fell. Despite the warm fire, He shivered when the air touched his bare, sweat-soaked skin. He wore nothing save for his simple cloth pants. His blanket was near-sodden and his hair clung to him in mats. He swallowed but found his throat seemed to be the only dry part of his body. He tried to cough, but it came out weak and small. He looked away from Shep, embarrassed. He felt like a child. He felt powerless.

As he uncurled the knot that had become his body, he became aware of a solid mass in his left hand, pressing hard into his palm. He unclenched his fist and a familiar small stone fell from his slick grasp. It rattled as it hit the floor, skittering off into the far corner of the room. Ayrin was transfixed by it, the small dark shape was flecked with deep blue and tiny spots of white. Even as far away as it was, every detail stood out, clear as day.

Shep stood and crossed the room, he stretched as he did so. It was obvious by his stiff motions that he hadn't left the chair in a long time. He knelt down and picked the stone up from the corner. "Interesting little trinket, this." He said, holding it up to the light, inspecting it like as jeweller might with a diamond.

Ayrin swung his legs out of the blanket and placed his feet on the floor. He shivered, the floor was not cold, in fact; the fire had done a good job of heating the room. But Ayrin still felt cold. He felt as if the warmth in his bones had been pulled from his body and would never return. While his arms, his legs, his whole body was warm, deep inside, he only felt cold. Like a block of ice sat inside him.

Not only that, the feeling of being watched had returned. It was so subtle that Ayrin wasn't sure when the feeling had left, but now that it had returned, it weighed heavy on his heart, which pounded slow, heavy pulses in his chest. Shep inspected the stone for the span of seven slow breaths and for that time, his eyes were so intent that they almost burned. There was a bright, blinding intelligence in his eyes, one that Ayrin hadn't seen before. In those eyes held years, aeons of knowing. They looked across the stone with familiarly, with that knowing, that intensity. Ayrin was surprised the stone didn't crumble to dust in that moment.