Ariana in Underland

Chapter 8

Whistling wind blew through the desecrated landscape, a cloud of dust rising and falling sleepily. A myriad of night-filled colors obscured the sky as the ethereal moon replaced the shining sun, the land cooling slowly with every dip the blazing star took. Silver scales glided through dispersing gray clouds, an aquatic tail swaying gently from side to side. As the spotlight from the moon reflected off large scales, a metallic glow glinting from every intricate spot, dim lights were flickered onto the ground. The gentle sway of the creature passed by soundlessly.

The land was barren, cradled between dry palms of lifeless landscape that was left to rot in its abandonment. Crumbling rocks were scattered in its arrangement. A broken down tower and dried out trees that had decayed over the years lay over black and white. If a rare traveler was passing these lands, they would've thought the random blocks of color made the place even more unique with its eerie presence. Dust gathered from time dirtied the white spots that formed half of the ground. Dried liquid that caked the white's counterpart somehow managed to taint the black stone further.

From an aerial view, the black and white blocks that seemed disorderly at a glance to passersby formed a large and well constructed chessboard. A battle had taken place. A battle that had reached every single crevice of Underland. The air hung with dread over the entire landscape. Thick enough to be a fog and light enough to be unnoticed, the crawling presence was a creepy residence in the desolate place. If one had to compare their feelings of the land to anything, it would have been likened to a cemetery. Obligated toleration and happy indifference mixed bitterly. History spoke of the battleground with reverence and as the catalyst to freedom. Yet there were lingering doubts that were agreed upon unconsciously that the place was to be avoided. Not a creature had went against this unspoken consensus......until a few years ago.

Click. Clack.

White blonde hair swayed with each step that was taken from small, almost nonexistent heels. The only sign of the woman's excitement.

As she neared a rough, gnarled tree, she revealed a white pouch that was previously held in her pocket, the folds of the dress concealing it perfectly. There were no signs that showed any amount of unease one would have felt at such a place.

A mist of black and purple was blown from the palm of nimble, pale hands. As if a smoke of poison, the mist sunk into the tree, eradicating an inch of worn wood, revealing a hollow trunk that gave way to a deep hole possibly hundreds of feet deep. She put away the pouch, descending into the hole and dropping below the depths of darkness.

Grains of wood slowly replaced itself, sealing and melting into place without any evidence of what happened.

White-blonde hair flapped in the wind as the woman plummeted to the ground to meet her demise – or so it seemed. The hole was pitch black and the smell of dusty dirt encased the female's form. There were no signs of anything to hold onto, yet she remained calm. At the last moment, a rapidly growing light at the end of the hole revealed a large, fluffy bed. Four feet tall, the mattress was shown to be worn out with feathers and springs occasionally sticking out.

In a display of childishness, her bottom met the bed like one would when jumping on a new mattress, sending her body a feet in the air again before gravity pulled it back down. She quickly bounced off the mattress and landed on her heels, the ground muting her graceful landing. Her appearance remained spotless, the fall only shifting a few strands of unnoticeable hair. Mood light, she strolled down the narrowing hallway without a falter in her step despite the black emptiness that shrouded most of her vision. The hall lit up gradually with every step she took until there was a dim glow bathing the curved walls.

She stopped.

Two guards were posted at each side of the walls. It would be difficult for an enemy to sneak past without raising any alarms. There were only two entrances to this place, the tree and a well-hidden door serving as an 'in-and-out'. Two opens, one exit. Unless the enemy either had a)the ability to spider walk up a twenty foot hole and laser eye their way through a tough-ass tree or b) somehow found the door – the chance of that being as likely as finding peace with Cheshire - then they better buck up, because these guards would demolish them. Taught by one of the best knights, the guards were one of the top ten fighters in this deserted piece of land and a whopping eight inches of kick-butt. Yes, they were short - incredibly short, ridiculously short, 'passing Midgetville and kicked smack-dab into TeenyTinyTown, population: 100 ants' short - but their skills made up for it. With their backs against the wall, heads straight, and a tiny paw on their swords, they made the picture of alert soldiers ready for anything.