I screamed as the floor dropped out from underneath me and I began flailing in the darkness, flying past the dim stone walls. The manacles were still wrapped tightly around my wrists and I was suddenly pulled to a stop, the manacles ripping through my skin. I slammed heavily into the wall I was chained to, my head hitting stone with a sharp crack.
I shouted in pain as warm blood flowed down my wrists and along my fingers. It was an awful pain and I heard something snap in my arms and shoulders. Had I broken bones? What had even happened? I was hanging, suspended in mid-air. It was pitch black, and I had no idea if there was something beneath me – if the floor was only a few inches below me or if it was hundreds of metres below. I swallowed down my fear and glanced around trying to pick out any shapes in the blackness. Pain flickered sharply in my arms and shoulder, blood sticking to my skin like hot ink.
"Help!" I screamed as the sound of giant wings flew down towards me. It sounded as if hundreds of wings beat the air around me – a murder of crows that made up the darkness around me. I tried to struggled, tried to kick against the wall – but the bones in my arms shrieked in pain, and I knew that I would cause more damage than good if I continued.
"There is no use screaming," Death's laugh echoed from above me, "There is no one to hear you."
"Why are you doing this?" I cried, "Why?"
"I am curious," Death said softly, "As is my brother, as you surely already know. Why is it that you, a mortal with no particular talents or abilities, has some form of protection that allows you to pass into Alninė and still remain alive?"
"I don't know!" I cried, "And why am I here? I went to the Crystal Forest!"
"Most annoyingly, yes," Death sighed, "But I had two of my Night Elves steal you away for me."
"Night elves?" I asked.
"Spirits of deceased elves – at least the evil ones. If they had led good lives they would have left Eltor and gone to spend eternity in the Sylktäs... they disgust me – their souls are blackened like coal. Nowhere near as beautiful as those my brother guards. And yet they have their uses."
"And yet you stole me away," I snapped, "Who's to say you wouldn't steal some of the pure elves?"
"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," Death said, his wings buffeting me with cool air. "Either way it wouldn't be long before Abbadon discovered it and took them back home. But you, my dear Halfling... I can play with you as long as I want." I heard him move closer, and I wondered how large his wings were, just by listening to them move. It was a relief to feel the coolness on my hot, flushed skin. My wrists still stung where the flesh had been torn away, and the sticky half-dried blood coated my skin.
"Why did you take me?" I asked, "What could you possibly want with me?" I winced as my shoulders lanced with pain, "Please...let me go."
"I have already told you why I stole you from my brother," Death sighed, sounding slightly bored, "It is true we don't know what is so special about you, but that doesn't mean we can't figure it out. But if you really wish for me to let you go, it can easily be arranged."
I couldn't believe my ears. He was going to free me? Just like that?
"Of course. It doesn't mean you will enjoy the arrangements." There was a cool edge to his voice and my heart leapt into my throat. The chains suddenly unclamped themselves from around my wrists and I fell for a few moments through dark air until I crashed into a surface. I felt every inch of me smash into the ground, become one in a farrago of pain. My body crumpled to the floor. I could hear my blood flowing. My head hit stone ground with a sharp whack.
And I knew nothing more.
I was left alone again in utter silence. But this was a terrible silence, one that caused your skin to crawl and for the hair on the end of your neck to stand up. A silence that told you that something was awfully, horribly wrong. I shielded my eyes from the harsh wind that threw sand at my face, trying to see if there was anything out here at all.
But before I could make out more than the tombstones that surrounded me a loud crack broke the silence, the sound of bones breaking. I shuddered as it came again and again. I turned quickly on the spot, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. Crack. Another broken bone snapping in half. Then dead quiet. Even my heart was quiet... had I died? No, no there it was... a racing pulse.
My muscles were all stretched tight, ready to move, and my ears were straining, waiting for the next noise. I suddenly tasted blood in my mouth and realised I had been chewing into my lip, breaking the skin. I felt something hot run down my bare leg and saw blood pouring from a gruesome wound that had been torn into my thigh. My arm still dripped warm scarlet blood, and i fearfully wondered if that was how I would die – bleed to death in some foreign place, not even sure what had killed me.
When the next crack filled the air and I turned, I wished I had died that death. No pain, no knowledge of what had been tearing into me... Ignorance truly is bliss.
My eyes locked onto the eyes of the creature before me – or where its eyes would have been did it have them. It had been human at one point, with two arms, two legs and a head attached to an almost recognisable torso. But the skin was gone, with only shreds left as if someone had hastily peeled the skin from its body with a rusty blade. Underneath the few threads of bloody hide still left, was rotting flesh, green and black mould covering the pulverised muscles. Ivory white bones, broken and jagged poked out of its body, resembling a shoddy version of a skeleton. Organs stood out from the rest of the bloody mass, blue and purple, like tumours, and then I saw a pumping black growth on its chest. It's heart.
I froze, every muscle in my entire body just... stopping. My mind wasn't working; it was as if I had gone into shock. The only thing that even registered was there was a horrifying demon of a monster right in front of me... and then it started walking.
Its walk was an awkward, sickening jilting gait that had the sound of crunching bones as it moved. Crunch, snap, crack. I shuddered as my muscles suddenly began to come to life again and I stumbled away from the monster, falling backwards.
What was this thing? What did it want with me? how did I kill it?" it made an awful whispering noise, each word accompanied by an awful sound like when you dropped something slimy on the ground. I shirked away from it until I had scrambled backwards into a tombstone. The stone was surprisingly hot against my skin, almost burning and I quickly moved away from it, climbing to my feet. The monster was getting closer, and I could smell it now, like fetid breath, rotten meat and the smell of sweet decay. I could hear it still whispering, as if it was trying to speak to me. I stifled a scream as it fell down onto the ground before me, its leg snapping out from underneath it.as it started picking itself up again I could see the sand clinging to its sticky, slimy surface and I began to back away. I had never felt this vulnerable before, with no weapon, no clue of what I was fighting, and even less of an idea on how to kill it.
My beck pressed up against something hot and soft, and I turned to see one of the sand figures watching me, hand held out to me.
"Come." It rumbled. I just stared at it, utterly confused and terrified. What to choose? Horrifying demon skeleton or strange creepy sand-person.
Something squelched around my ankle and I glanced down to see the skeleton had grabbed my leg tightly. With a low groan it pulled itself towards me, its bones snapping angrily. I screamed as its other arm extended up towards my throat...
Beyond it I could see the blazing fiery eyes and knew it was all over. I closed my eyes, not wishing to see it happen. Something hot and wet, and unnerving touched my throat and I couldn't stop the cry that escaped my throat.
"Enough!" a voice yelled, waking me from the terrible nightmare. Its frightful grip was still wrapped around me as I saw the monster still reaching for me, fingers like broken, splinters of wood wrapped in rotting flesh. My eyes flew open and I found myself lying on the ground, arms and legs chained the stone. I felt a rush of déjà vu as I realised this was how I had woken the last time. However, when I tried to move my arm and found the chains were barely long enough for to move more than an inch.
And this time I wasn't alone.
"Ahh brother, how nice of you to drop by." Deaths deep voice said warmly. I tried to sit up and see what was happening but the chains held me against the ground. And there was only shadow around me – I couldn't have seen anything even if I had looked.
"What... what's going on?" I wanted to ask. But my throat was so dry, and nothing more than a croak came out. Suddenly, as if that had been a cue of some kind, roaring pillars of flame burst into existence around me in a huge circle. I could see; I was pinned against a stone slab, and at my feet I could see, by painfully craning my neck, two tall figures, facing each other down.
Red and blue, they stood before each other, of equal height, and with identical stances. Death was a terrible, strange sight, with no face visible, just a pale ivory mask made of an actual skull covering his features white bone in the shape of horns curled up through the hood of the cloak, their ends glistening with what could have been anything from black ink to drying blood. His cloak was a deep, blood red, as if it had been soaked in the life-force of all of the mortals he had reaped.
He held a scythe, its metal handle as tall as his body, the blade the length of a sword. He used it as a prop, leaning against it as red eyes blazed out from the eye sockets. His hands were deathly white, with black runes identical to Abbadon's burned into the skin. From his back sprouted four wings, as black as raven, and so large they seemed to fill the room.
Abbadon stood before Death, blue cloak swept around him elegantly, his own scythe in hand. His face was not the look of boredom or patience I had seen before, but of anger, and it filled me with fear. His eyes blazed black, his lips curled up in a frown. From his back erupted two wings, white as snow. Two reapers – one of the dead, and one of their souls. Both as identical as could be imagined, but impossibly different.
As I sucked in a breath they both looked at me in unison – it was frightening and eerie, and my already racing heart sped up in my chest. A moment later something dark and feathery appeared in my face. I flinched away, but chained the slab, all I managed to do was smack my head against the stone. As it perched itself on my chest and stared down at me with beady eyes I realised what it was, though my heart didn't slow.
"Daud..." Death's voice brushed through the room, "griešan." The raven cocked its head to one side before it took flight again, feathers scratching my cheek before it returned to it's master. "She is awake," Death sighed, sounding resigned, "Thanks to you."
"Thanks to me, you did not just claim someone who was not yours." Abbadon said sharply.
"Like you wish to do?" Death snapped, "Admit it. That's why you took her blood, so you could keep her."
"What?" I interrupted, "What did you do with my blood?" Abbadon cast Death an annoyed angry look.
"Ālis, you really need to keep your tongue still." He said sharply, though his eyes remained glued to mine. "Halfling..." as I watched the black receded until I was looking into deep blue eyes.
"My name is Irene," I snapped, "Not Halfling."
"I don't care what name you prefer to be called by, Irene, Daughter of Veshin," Abbadon sighed, "It does not change you. A name is a name – it is not important."
"Quite contrary to that, dear brother," Death said icily, "Names give power... names are power." I glanced between them, not knowing what to feel. There was fear, of course, thrumming through my veins with every quick beat of my heart, but as I watched the two men argue, one all black and red, the other white and blue, I couldn't help but feel slightly amused – despite their power, they were at the core, two siblings arguing.
"Halfling," Abbadon said smoothly, ignoring Death, "What you just witnessed was the memories one poor soul had to face as they found themselves in the Fiery Plains... the hellish place my brother here holds dominion over."
"You mean... what I dreamt happened to me... actually happened to someone?"
"Yes, I remember the man quite well," Death said shortly, "Stout, annoying... and he was sent here because of the things he did in Life."
"In Life?" I asked, "You mean this is...?"
"You have visited Sylktäs," Death nodded, reaching up a bone-white hand to scratch the raven – Daud – on the top of his head, "Or as many would call it the Crystal Forest. A place for souls to rest in peace. Here..."
"Here we are in Alninė." Abbadon interrupted, "A place where souls go to be punished. For deeds made in Life."
"Why am I here?" I snapped again, "Why did you bring me here?" I glared at Death who didn't even move. "I'm not dead! You can't... can't punish me!"
"And why ever not?" he asked, "That soul who's punishment you witnessed. He was here for murder, for killing. Something you almost pride yourself on your ability to do so. So what makes you different?"
"I... I have done those things for good reasons!" I cried, "To... to protect..."
"Murder is still murder," Death said, drawing himself up to his full height, "And no less done in the name of revenge." His mask remained as eerie as ever in the flickering firelight as he crept closer without a sound.
"You have a habit of asking annoying questions too," Death cocked his head to the side, "I might feed you to the skeletors after all."
"Skeletors?" I gasped, "Feed me?" I tried to pull free of my manacles but they held, as solid as stone.
"Yes. They get rather restless when they've gone a few centuries without food." Death said, his gaze unwavering, "I trust that it would be quick though – the hungrier they are the quicker they feed."
"No!" I cried, tugging and pulling, almost wrenching my arms out of their sockets. I felt sick – he was a monster!
"Or you can come with me," Abbadon said calmly as he stepped forwards. He pointed his hand at me. The chains around my wrists and ankles suddenly fractured into a million pieces, rubble skittering across the slab and floor. Suddenly free I scrambled off the slab and fled to the far corner of the room from the both of them. I rubbed at the torn skin on my wrists and as I stretched felt a horrendous pain in my shoulders and spine.
"Could there be a third option?" I asked, eyes darting between them, "Where I can leave this hell-hole and go back to Eltor." Now that I was facing the two reapers, I didn't particularly want to go to the Crystal Forest. Why had I even wanted to go?
"There is that option," Abbadon said, voice as smooth as velvet, "It is true neither of us can lay claim to you, but if you go home... how will you save Cedric?" I sucked in my breath and glanced between them. That was why.
"What's the catch?" I asked, heart racing. The obvious choice would be to go with Abbadon, but why would he so happily offer for me to go to the Crystal Forest and leave with Cedric once again?
"Catch?" Abbadon and Death asked in unison, "Why would there be a catch?"
"Because nothing is ever for free," I snapped.
"It seems you do learn," Death said softly, sounding almost pleased. Daud rose from his shoulder and perched himself on mine, as light as a shadow. I froze, unsure of whether or not I could move. His beak looked very sharp, and very close to my face. My eyes switched to Death. On the one hand I could become the next meal for... whatever it was that skeletors were. Or I could leave with Abbadon, to Cedric... but what was the catch?
"It is true nothing is ever for free," Abbadon smiled knowingly, "But you will have to take that risk. He held out his hand, and raised his staff. With a swirl ash seemed to rise up around him, and grey and white feathers flurried around him in a storm.
"You can come with me, or you can stay and try to find your way out," he said softly, "your choice."
Death was watching me carefully, as if he was hoping I would stay. His red eyes dared me to stay, glowing from within the mask.
"Well as much as I love a challenge," I cried, "I would rather take the easy way out." I could almost see Death grinning under the mask. Once more Daud took flight, circling me as I moved closer to Abbadon. I didn't want to take his hand, but I wasn't left with much of a choice. As I stepped inside the whirl of feathers and ash Daud veered off and returned to Death who held a hand out to catch him. Abbadon's hand clamped down on my shoulder, an icy vice, and the ash rose up around us until I could see nothing more.
A moment later I was spinning through air, with nothing solid above or below me except for Abbadon's hand on me. And then as I had been tackled to the ground, I fell to my knees as the force of landing again hit me like a slammed door. It knocked me off balance and sent me sprawling into the glowing blue grass of the forest. I felt Abbadon's hand disappear.
"Welcome to your new home," Abbadon grinned, pulling his hood down.
"I don't think so," I said with an edgy laugh, "You can't keep me here." Abbadon smiled at me and held up a vial filled with dark red liquid.
"Your blood." He said simply, as if it explained away every question.
"My blood?" I asked, growing confused, "What has that got to do with anything?"
"You see, I couldn't keep you here, because for some reason a powerful magic protected you from my grasp. But I have found a way around that now." Abbadon said, taking obvious pleasure in explaining, "At the end of your last visit I took you blood, and in doing so I held the key. If I could lure you back here and trick you into returning to the Crystal Forest willingly... well... now you're mine. And you will be mine for ever."
"So Death stealing me away... the whole argument... it was all a ruse?" I gasped, glancing around at the trees, glass-like and beautiful. They seemed to be closing in, their branches wrapping around me in a suffocating hold.
"Of course... luring you into the land of the dead was only part of it. I needed you to agree to accompany me right into the centre of the forest for it to truly work. And so I asked my brother to help, as long as he too could have some of your blood."
"What does he need my blood for?" I growled, glaring at him.
"He is the Blood Reaper. While my duty is to collect the souls of those who die it is his duty to collect their blood. That is why my cloak is blue, and his is red. Your blood is now mixed amongst hundreds of others, soaked into the fabric of my brother's cloak."
"You used him to scare me," I said, "To scare me into wanting to go with you."
"Yes. It was not easy, I was half expecting you to stay behind and find your way back to Eltor. You've always been a resourceful one... but no... love is powerful."
"That isn't fair," I snapped, "You used Cedric to get to me."
"Since when have things ever been fair for you, Irene?" Abbadon asked, clamping his hand shut around the vial, "You lost your parents so young... you were forced to fight a losing battle for your entire childhood; face a losing war with a witch you can never hope to outmatch, and all through it cannot keep your grip on the man you love.
"So no it isn't fair. And of course I did. I do not care if Cedric is still alive, even though his Soul should have been mine months ago. He is doomed anyway, should he return to the land of the living – the new queen has her mind set on destroying anything in her way to power. She would slay him within the hour. Already her empire rises, and more join my trees.
"But you... I wanted you back, and so I thought to myself, I will use this love to my advantage. And here we stand, at home at last. And you, Halfling, are my prisoner. They save love is a great virtue for one to have; ironically, it almost always ends up with those virtuous ones being destroyed."