Sol stood quietly and looked across the borough that he found refuge in. A thick slate of fog slowly crept its way towards the village ground; smothering the view, as the sky cascaded into darkness. He walked across the snow slowly, the emerald jeweled sword grasped tightly in his hand and approached the still village. As he came close, the sky had only darkened further. It had only taken a few minutes for Sol to realize that his breathing was ragged, and a flame began to cut through the heart of the village like a knife, drawing dangerously close to him.
A large sea of flames began to spread across the green expanse of the forest, engulfing it, devouring it. Sol watched as the trees that once sheltered so many with its canopy was beginning to shred to pieces, the smoldering flames climbed the trees, winding and wrapping its way around the forest's shelter like a step-ladder.
The forest shrieked, its shrubbery burning to a crisp as the hot flames tightened its grip on the bark. It ripped through the skin of the trees, and its defenseless branches, devouring tree by tree in the searing heat like a starving beast. He was trapped.
"Ying?" Sol called out, walking into the heart of the village. The smell of hot sulfur engulfing the air, his lungs, in a tight, breathless hug. The blade began to sizzle, and become hot molten lava; he gasped and dropped it with a clatter, reaching to look at his hand; searing burns on his palm.
"Shit!" he groaned , but didn't have time to think about it. A sudden flock of black crows soared above him in a haze, darting through the skies like bullets. And then in moments, they fell like rotten corpses of the fowl landing in front of him.
Then he saw it again. The huge scaled body crawled towards him, its armored scales shone in the blaring light of the embers of the village. Sol had a feeling that the beast wouldn't stop, it wouldn't rest. Not until it achieved one thing. It's golden eyes glared directly towards him, closer and closer it crawled to Sol. He was all alone, this was it.
The only thing this brute wanted was to kill. Deep down he knew, it wanted Sol's heart on a silver platter.
Sol gasped awake.
He jerked himself up from the nightmare and looked across the room in a cold sweat. He was paranoid that the horror may have followed him here too. His heart pounded, like he'd raced miles within minutes, it was ready to be torn from his chest, leaving a gaping hole just like the bird had.
The woven, decorative tapestries that clung from the walls was one of the only things that reminded him that he was safe from the Spitfyre beast. He laid back in the chair and rubbed his eyes to fully awaken himself. It wasn't real. It wasn't
But it felt like it.
"Sol? Are you okay?"
Sol turned, and his tired eyes met Ying's. "I.. Yeah. It was just a nightmare." He gave a reassuring smile and grasped her hand close.
All of his years that he had lived, he had never felt this kind of pain, or fear. He had never felt so shaken by beasts that he considered story-tales. These fables had spiraled out of control, and turned into nightmares that burned through his skull, gnawed his insides, and itched his veins. It was like nothing anybody could fathom, nor explain. It felt real.
The sun shone brightly through the gaps of the hut, washing away the vestiges of the nightmare. But he didn't feel safe. Even if the tapestries clung to the walls reminded him that he was where he needed to be, it wasn't safe at all.
He sighed quietly and gave her another assuring nod. "How long have I been asleep?"
"Since dusk."
He nodded again with a short sigh, and briefly noticed Ying's empty cup of water. "I'll get you some more."
Sol reached for the bucket beside the bed, and headed outside of the hut to the fountain close by. Today, although the air was cold, the day dawned clear skies, with the sun casting a rosy hue across it. He found it rather odd that nobody queued up today. Sol placed the empty bucket down, and turned the wooden knob.
As he did, he suddenly stopped in his tracks. Engraved in the palm of his hand in jet-black ink was a rune. Sol frowned and attempted to rub it off with his sleeve, but it didn't smear, it didn't move.
"What the fuck...," he whispered to himself and casually tried to erase it. For a few moments he thought that he was still in his bad dreams, but it was real. He balled his fist and nervously searched around, hoping nobody was watching. Runes were only part of fairy-tales.
His stomach churned in a twisted way. Sol recognized this symbol before. He remembered seeing it before, but he couldn't remember where or why. It etched a long line down the middle of his palm, and from the line came off two branches opposing one another. His people called it the antlers of the Elk, but it's true name was something else.
"Algiz..," Sol whispered, gently gliding a thumb over it in disbelief. A symbol of protection, or something more sinister, he didn't know. Was Atal protecting, hiding or preparing him for something bigger than they believed?
He tugged his shirt for a moment, and tried to forget it was there. Whatever it was, he would tell nobody. Sol turned the wooden knob again, and waited for the water to pour. It took a few moments for the fountain to gurgle, and foam on the sides of the tap, leaking black liquid.
"Well that's useless...," he muttered.
"Sol!" a voice called behind him, he turned and Malak quickly came into view. "What are you doing here? Yosef has informed everybody to be at the halls. It's important."
"What is it Malak? I need to attend to Yin—"
"I know, but Yosef informed he wants you to be there also. It's no good being out here in the cold, and Ying will be okay," She pleaded, and reached for his hand.
Sol yanked it away hesitantly. It hurt to keep these secrets from his childhood friend, but he couldn't take any risks. "Okay, alright, I'm coming."
He balled his fist, hiding the rune that bled itself into his skin, and they walked to the halls in a haste. He wondered if this was the right decision to keep it from Malak. She deserved to know what was happening to him- but no, she couldn't. He could tell nobody. He'd have to face this alone.
Just as Sol was about to speak, they had reached the halls. The halls were simply a larger hut than the rest, it looked like any other, but as soon as they stepped through, there was nothing inside to make it as homely as the others besides a couple of wooden benches. Some people he didn't recognize sat on the benches. His eyes scouted the area, before they stopped and noticed Morrigan sitting afar. "Let's go sit over there," he said, walking in the direction towards her.
They both made their way towards the middle ground where Morrigan was sat and he sat beside her. "Hey, do you have any clue what we're here for?"
"No, I don't. I was just heading back to the hut, but they stopped me." She shrugged, and turned to face the front of the halls. Yosef had made a quick appearance near towards the front of the inside hut. He looked more alert since Sol last saw him and appeared to be standing with a crowd of men who Sol didn't recognize, murmuring things to one another.
"Who are they?" He asked, but received no response. Sol let out a deep sigh and covered his hand and attempted to keep his mind at bay from the writhing thoughts from his encounter with the fountain. Perhaps that was what this was about.
Sol immediately wondered if anyone knew about the rune that appeared on his skin, if they had seen it. He balled his fist again.
"I have gathered each of you to discuss some things," Yosef paused, breaking the quiet whispers across the room as the village folk diverted their attention towards the four men across from the room. Sol's eyes followed. He noticed the other men that surrounded Yosef couldn't be much older than he was. Sol listened in closely, nervously.
"Some of you have awoken this morning and provided me with the knowledge that our lands have been cursed. Our waters contaminated, land rotten, food in our stomach's scarce," Yosef addressed. He rubbed a hand over his chin as though to ponder on the words in disbelief. "Do not worry, do not panic." He added.
One of the men on the left of Yosef's side then handed him something with a trembling hand; a piece of parchment. The old-man looked nervous, the skin around his hand looked red, blistered. The man was itching his skin, trying to be discreet when he turned away from the crowd. If Sol hadn't been paying closer attention to the strange man, he wouldn't have realized that the skin wasnt just forming blisters, but a rash appeared across the arm where he itched. Sol swallowed, the air in the hut beginning to feel hot.
"Ah yes..." Yosef fiddled with the parchment, and ripped the gold seal. The seal Sol realized came directly from the royal kingdom. "Here, we have been informed that we are to group our troops, survivors we have left, whom are able. The Druid's curse will get worse, but His Majesty has requested we prepare for the worst."
For war. But what for?
"Oh shut up! That's all a pile of blimey garbage, aye. I can't leave my wife and kids," Someone yelled across the room. They lunged a boot at Yosef, but it missed. Sol's eyes searched over the crowd. Grumbles among them turned into fits of anger. They were too weak to go to war, it was too cold. He had no clue why now. Something didn't feel right.
His eyes met Arhaan's brown ones across the corner of the hut, near the exit.
"I understand your concerns, I do, and that is why I will be ordering my men to scout the area and restore prosperity to the grounds in the meantime. We must garner strength for whatever is to come. Please inform your families that they are in good hands and—"
Sol was no longer listening to the statement that Yosef had to make. Arhaan had captured his complete attention, waving a gentle gesture to follow before he slowly disappeared from the hut, exiting it.
"I'll be right back," Sol told Malak and Morrigan. He stood from the bench and took his leave, knowing nobody would miss him let alone realize he slipped out amongst the uproar.
He followed Arhaan outside and was greeted first with the crisp air, and the crunch below his feet. Sol looked around, but heard him first.
"I was worried you wouldn't follow." A raspy chuckle came from behind him.
"Why? Did you not want me to?" Sol frowned and whisked around. A calming feeling filled his stomach with the sight of Arhaan. If he were to tell anybody about the rune, he'd tell him first. Even though they had met just a few days ago, Sol trusted him strangely enough.
Arhaan briefly shook his head, and chuckled some more. "Come. I found something and I think I should show you. Maybe you would know what is happening."
Sol didn't question what Arhaan said, but remembered Yosef had mentioned something about a Druid and a curse on the land. Arhaan would have some answers, he was sure of it. They both walked through the thick snow towards the heart of the village. This was the place where he and Yosef had dueled just yesterday, the memory in his mind like a fresh wound as he remembered the fowl.
"You tried to use the fountain earlier today, right?" Arhaan asked.
Sol briefly cleared his throat, a nervous croak came out, "W-well yes, I did, why?"
Could Arhaan possibly have been spying on him? Did he already know something Sol didn't? About the rune, or the strange man in the hut.
"Well look, you and Yosef had battled here just yesterday. The bird, I think it has done something to Belore." Arhaan's eyes gazed below their feet. "I think this is the beginning of the curse... Something isn't right."
Sol's eyes followed, immediately taken aback by the sight. He swallowed a lump in his throat. It couldn't be a coincidence that this curse had appeared just today after they had battled the noon before. This must have been what caused the water to blacken like ink.
The snow in the area was no longer a glistening white-fall. From where the fowl once lay yesterday, darkness had spread from it, a putrid stink in the shape of a deep spiral around them both. Like dust, it lay thickly along the dirty ground. The land was rotting.
Sol crouched down to peer closer at the soaked liquid that formed, seeping deep into the land. He could almost hear a hissing come from it, but a hand abruptly reached for his shoulder to pull him back.
"Don't touch it, be careful. Something bad will happen if you do..." Arhaan sounded uncertain. It appeared that he didn't have answers after-all.
"What could be worse than this?"
Arhaan said nothing. He didn't need to say anything as petrified screams came from the open hut nearby. From a distance, Sol could see the villagers, familiar because they were called to Yosef's meeting, shoving their way through the tight entrance of the medium-sized tent. A thick gurgling sound soon followed and erupted in the cold-air behind them.
Sol didn't take a moment to think about it. He was already rushing back towards the hut, for Malak, for Morrigan. He could faintly hear Arhaan call after him in the distance, but the terrified screams of the towns-people were too loud for him to hear exactly what was said.
He'd heed no warning, they were his friends. He couldn't allow for anything bad to happen to them, not this time.
Just as the tent bustled to clear out, a man, the old-man from before came into motion as he staggered out of the tent, his gaze turned towards Sol.
As the man stumbled his way towards him, avoiding the rest of the swarming crowd, Sol reeled backwards, noticing the glint in the male's ravenous eyes — something was not right. He suddenly tripped and fell back first to the cold ground with a thud.
The man cackled, his voice sounding like it was beneath water. His fingernails shredded through his skin, peeling it back, layer by layer. Crimson dripped in rivulets from each new tear, until it was indistinguishable on what was damaged and what was stained. The man continued to dig. Deeper. Each rip, each squelch, became louder than the dancing mania in his gaze, louder than the gurgle in his throat.
The man's eyes rolled back. Crimson leaked down his body, soaking his chest and staining the pale-white snow.
Sol gasped and crawled back, watching as though tranced while the bloody hands of the man continued to claw out his own throat, pulling apart the flesh manically, bit by bit.
"The man, he's been contaminated by the waters!" A wail came nearby, then more voices. Voices everywhere.
"Sol, Oh my goodness, Sol! are you alright? You're--"
Within an instant he felt the tug on his left arm and was pulled back to his feet. He didn't hear the rest of the sentence drawled from the person's mouth, whoever had came. Only a dizziness swept over him and as his eyes searched for the unhinged man, darkness greeted him with a deadly smile instead.
Word Count: 2,707