Chapter Two – Whispers in the Dark
Hot tears flowed freely down Ember’s cheeks, his eyes clamped tight, shutting out the world and the pain it caused him. In his mind’s eye the days trauma mingled with the traumatic events of his past. Hideous spectres and haunting figures danced through his grief-ridden somnolence with dizzying speed and malice.
Identical pale faces painted with venomous smiles and hair—blazing flame red. A mysterious man draped in the dark emerald cloak, and the suffocating weight of helplessness and despair… His mother’s broken body, lifeless, cold and unyielding. Burned beyond recognition, her once-loving face blackened and cracked, like the bark of a lightning-struck tree… The body of another, a twisted mask of agony, plum fabric stuck to the scabbed crackled skin…The swish of hard wood and the cracking of bone under soft flesh… A monstrous, bull-like figure encased in platted steel, menacing and merciless… Toby’s last desperate plea echoing in the depth of his mind.
Each memory plagued him with unrelenting clarity, a real of tormenting images. He could feel his mind breaking, as the visions played in a persistent loop within his waking nightmare. It would be so easy to just let go and let the madness consume him, envelope him, give in to the comfort of ignorant bliss. His body pleaded for release, anything to forget the phantoms of his past, anything to forget the pain that spread through his body.
“No!” he screamed internally, the faces of the twins flashing across his memory again, taunting him. Ember felt an anger swell inside him, an inferno of hatred stoked in his chest by the desire to extract his revenge.
He would find them. He would kill them. He vowed with clenched fists, letting out a grating scream, pushing back the despair and Ember forced his eyes open. They burned from the tears as he tried to get his bearings the taste of blood and salt lingering on his lips.
The forest shrouded him in complete darkness, the dense trees far overhead an inky black quilt obscuring the last drips of starlight. Rough bark pressed into his back, grounding him, the only sense of presence amid the ancient trees he knew surrounded him. He looked, blinking rapidly, struggling against the darkness, his chest heaving with heavy sobs, each breath drawing in the scent of damp moss and decaying foliage. Ember raised his hands to inspect them and saw only shadows-ghostlike shapes against the absolute darkness. His own mind playing tricks.
How deep had he wondered into this forest? How long had he been running? He thought with dizzying confusion, a brief moment of panic threatening to well up inside of him. He was lost, totally blind and in excruciating pain, he needed to sleep, he needed to rest his broken body.
Summoning his remaining tendrils of strength, he took a tentative awkward step, and his foot hooked a thick root sending him sprawling onto the cold damp mossy floor with dull thud. Pain radiated from his body, a fresh reminder intensifying with each haggard breath. The cold seeped through his clothing its chill immediately biting into his skin. Gritting his teeth, Ember pushed himself onto all fours, carefully removed his foot and continued forwards. I’m like a wounded animal lost in the darkness he thought, fear truly cemented in his mind.
Navigating the complex knot of twisted roots. Time became a blur as he pushed on, growing fatigue and pain making reality seem like waking nightmare.
Without warning, his head struck something solid. Cautiously, he reached out, his fingers brushing the rough rugged bark of another tree. Grasping it with outstretched arms it’s immense size defied comprehension- a colossal sentinel.
He knew the forest was old, but never had he imagined it harboured such giants, he marvelled with a sense of awe as he continued his sightless exploration of the tree, shifting around until he thought he was halfway.
Without warning Ember’s fingers brushed against a fissure in the trees exterior- a jagged, uneven opening. Taking a steady breath, his heart started pounding loud in his ears a stark contrast to the eerie stillness, he leaned closer, allowing the scents within to wash over him. He expected something to growl announcing it presence to him or worse pounce out, instead all that hit him was a waft of humid, pungent decaying wood and an aroma of moist earth which filled his nostrils. The cents evoked memories of the forgotten cellar below the Waymakers Rest, his and Toby’s home for the past two years.
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Just then, the scent of something else drew him in, ripping him from his brief homesick memories. A sharp, metallic smell tainted the air and taste of metal lingered on his tongue. There was something unnatural about the hollow opening, something emitting a peculiar odour. He felt uneasy, and despite his inner thoughts screaming at him to turn around the desire for a safe warm place to rest superseded caution and Ember hesitantly crawled inside the opening.
With slow tentative movements he went deeper into the hollow an outstretched hand in front of him, the other feeling the rough ground below. Slowly, he began to relax his tense form settling until a faint rustling emanated from the hollow’s depths.
Instantly regretting his decision, Ember’s breath caught in his throat, and he froze his body shaking with nervous anticipation. His ears tuned onto his surroundings listening for any other noise that may betray the presence of some other animal.
At first, he thought his mind was playing a trick on him, the sound was hardly perceptible, like a whispering breeze throwing up leaves. Then it grew louder, the unmistakable sound of rustling feathers and the scraping of sharp talons scurrying across wood, drawing nearer with unsettling speed. A loud ear-splitting squawk erupted directly in front of his face, and he heard the snapping of a beak followed by a low guttural growl.
His body tensed, his heart threatening to jump free from his chest with fear. Every muscle a coil of anticipation ready to spring or fight for his life. His mind conjured a reel of images, unseen creatures lurking in the darkness. All the monsters from his childhood story books coming back to haunt him in his mind’s eye, their glowing eyes staring at him with malevolent intent.
The sounds the creature painted a mental image of what lay before him and his imagination got the better of him. Large scaly muscly legs that resembled a rooster, a razor-sharp beak like a hawk dripping with blood, blood orange eyes glaring with the hatred of being disturbed. Course wiry feathers like drops of ink slick about its body…
Before he could react, a sudden flurry of movement erupted over him, ripping him from his thoughts as something large and impossibly fast brushed off him with surprisingly soft feathers, its form an imaginary purple blur in his mind as it rushed out the opening behind him. A rush of humid, sticky, metallic air followed its wake, causing Ember to shudder and recoil his heart pounding with renewed intensity, his body shaking violently.
What was he thinking? Coming in here it was reckless. Stupid. He thought, berating himself with a loud mental cry. He turned to stare at the opening behind him, straining to see, but the darkness remained impenetrable.
For what felt like an eternal age, he remained motionless, listening intently for the possible return of the creature.
He heard nothing, no rustle of feathers, no cry from an angered beast. The forest had fallen into an eerie silence as if holding its breath alongside him. Then, driven by equal parts fear and the desire to sleep he inched forward, deeper into the hollow.
A prickling sensation crawled up his spine, a silent warning, a natural desire to run while his trembling hands explored the warm damp interior, seeking a dry safe patch to coil up and sleep.
The risk of that animal returning scared him, but the thought of wandering through the forest blind scared him more. That thing, whatever it was hadn’t attacked him it had fled, and he took that as good sign. Ember was deep in thought, when his fingers brushed against a cold, smooth metallic object.
It felt like a coin. Large but still unnaturally heavy. Tracing its surface, he could just make out intricate engravings, patterns or symbols, impossible to comprehend in the darkness. His pulse quickened as the coin immediately vibrated. An abnormal energy warmed his fingers as he heard the same ear-splitting squawk echo through the forest outside. He froze again, listening intently in the darkness. A strange tingling feeling radiated through him, distracting him, and he felt a peculiar feeling, a bond or a promise had been formed. He was unsure how he knew but he felt the commitment weigh his spirit down.
What was this doing here, concealed in this tree? He mused, turning it over in his hand, to metal returning to is cool natural form. Unable to examine it further he slipped the object into his pocket, it’s natural and unnatural weight a constant reminder of the night’s peculiarities.
Exhaustion pressed down upon him like a tonne weight, both physically and emotionally, the day’s events leaving him vulnerable and weary. Seeking peace and an escape, he curled into himself, nestling up against the first piece of trunk he found. His breaths gradually steadied, through the aches in his muscles remained.
As his eyelids grew heavy, and the darkness began to embrace him he heard the alien voice, a regular companion in his drifting slumber, a gentle whispering in a peculiar ancient tongue. But the intent he understood, as brief hazy images flashed before him.
He was in a strange far-off place, a dark hidden place, cold, the smell of damp rock and old magic, the loud noise of falling water, a hand of stone, an outstretched finger with a glistening bone white band. He was being called fulfil his destiny, he reached out…
…but fatigue proved a relentless adversary and in the final stages of his waking dreams he heard the gentle patter of clawed feet followed by a sharp metallic smell and the tender touch of a large, soft feathered body wrapping around him heat radiating through him comforting his pain, pulling him into a dreamless peaceful abyss of sleep.