How much longer could I have continued?
I’m so tired. I’m so excited!
After months of being chased, the nasty caught up to me. It moved a hell of a lot faster than I thought possible.
I got knocked out of the skies traveling between mountain peaks. I do not know what did it. But I managed to roll out of the crash and barely got onto my feet. I shifted to elven form and ran. The creature was too close, hours perhaps and closing. I tried to take to the skies and again got knocked down. This time I landed in a valley and bolted. Its presence was overwhelming. I ran til I literally couldn’t run any farther, it was a dead end. The cliffs too steep to climb and the area too small for my wingspan. But I spun about to face it, my weapons in hand and back into my natural form. My ermine friend ran onto my shoulder, lending me her strength. The beast crashed around the boulders, all black shifting shadows and claws. I was ready to do battle and die when I heard the laughter.
It’s such a simple laugh. More a giggle.
I think I yelled for him to help me.
I thanked him afterwards. And then I was falling.
The sky was grey but it was bright, compared to the darkness I was traveling through. My weariness was gone. The fell presence was gone. I flapped my wings and I heard battle. Turning to get my bearings I saw her.
My sister. The youngest of us! She looked older but it must be a disguise. She was in trouble, there was a wolfman, werewolf near her and a displacer beast. I called out her name. Well, not her true name but the name I knew her as. And I dived down, dropping a globe of darkness.
I turned to attack the werewolf, I’ve dealt with their ilk in the arena, and just because they are hard to kill doesn’t mean that it’s impossible. But my sister shouted that he’s a friend.
Really? That murdering furbag is a friend?
I’ll have to talk to Pheraya, which is what she’s calling herself.
So I turned to attack the beast. I’m familiar with magics that mimic this monster’s ability. Just pity I’ve not yet figured out how to see the truth. They saw me. And I turned back to a woman. Human.
Then I cancelled the globe to allow the werewolf to help. And then there was a dwarf. How did I overlook him?
And then the Brokki arrived, angry about us taking his kill. I was ready to take him out. He seemed simple, if primitive. But he wisely backed down.
My sister, in her joy, ran up and hugged me. I had to fight the urge to throw her off. I’m not ready to be touched. Anyone who touched me meant to kill me or take me against my will. I killed the first and tried to kill the latter though that bastard always stopped me before I could finish them off. I had to tell myself that my sister will not harm me. But I need space.
There were too many people, and they seemed friendly enough.
The dwarf was brought her from 40 or something years ago. He speaks Shykkish, I can understand most of his dialect, as can my sister. But the Shykkish that the Brokki and the werewolf speak is different. I can understand it, but the Dwarf seemed to have a hard time.
We harvested the displacer beast Everyone was talking, and I was adjusting to the gravity, the light, the air and temperature of the Prime. I think I made some responses. I know I called myself Amira.
And we set off.
Though I found it odd. They saw me as I am. They probably think I am a Devil or a Demon. Something evil. Pheraya told them that we are sisters. The looks were dubious.
I walked and sometimes flew to get my bearings. The road we left behind. What was I going to do? Will the Beast hunt me here too? How long do I have til it arrives?
And 9 years?! I’ve been gone from my siblings’ lives for 9 years. The resistance is destroyed. The Cabal have won. And the sky is no longer blue. Vyrnith is missing or sick. Pyrico is gone too. And Nameless now scares my sister. He’s now sinister. How did this come to pass? A curse from an island in the opposite direction did this. A dragon may or may not be involved.
I’ve failed my family. How could 9 years pass?! I was banished for… 2 or so years. I am certain time doesn’t differ between the planes I was on.
There’s nothing in mother’s or father’s blood memory about this curse. The curse of no Vrynith shining upon us. Course not! It hasn’t happened when I had been here.
My twin brother is gone. I’m hoping not dead. My elven brother is also missing. As is my warrior brother. If we were together, we could do a summoning ritual to talk to the Elemental Lords. I’m not sure if my sister and I can do it together.
We camp, and the Brokki is fascinated by my ability to start fires. He got too close to me, so I leave with the werewolf to hunt. How long has it been since I’ve eaten real food? Too long.
We are silent, and it’s relaxing. I remain on the outskirts of camp with my ermine. We talk silently until my sister arrives to talk. She had noticed my reaction to the hug, I tell her I don’t want to discuss it. She pushes and finally I showed her the tattoo branded upon my neck. I tried to cut it off, but it remains, not matter my form. Pheraya is angry and wants to kill the bastard. I just shake my head, she’s grown so much. Her eyes are father’s, her temper is mother’s. I want to hug her, but I can’t. I keep watch them before the breaking of dawn, I depart.
I convinced them that we should head to the Phelmyr. I need to find a gift. And process that the only way to get food grown is by the good graces of the Cabal. The entire land is bound and shackled. Surely not everyone I knew is destroyed. Surely magic isn’t dead, but suffocating.