Revised "Chapter" 12

It lunged faster than he had expected, it moved with a grace born of shadows and the hunger it felt waiting for prey. Kirn imagined it simply didn't get a whole lot of meals down here- how many creatures fell into this place? After all, the greenies guarded it. They took care of most if the trespassers that would make it here. And they were ferocious hunters, as he and Nia could attest to. Regardless, they simply were not the prey that the creature was looking for- they were the prey that it wanted. They were the ones that were like the ones it had hunted before in the depths of this place. The ghosts bore strange wounds, which looked as if they could have come from the thing's claws, which looked as if they had been slashed to pieces. Some of the spirits had obviously been chewed on and devoured partially. He shuddered, as he hadn't thought that they could show the signs of their death. In Elven lore, their own spirits rose in peace once they had died, whole and hale as they had never been in life, or if they had, then even better than that. These creatures, rotted from the inside of their souls, were obviously grated no such blessing by the Gods.

Then again, if they had been blessed, they would not be here like this. Trapped, to hassle and harry innocents like he and Nia. Kirn lowered himself, thinking to get underneath the claws that went for his face. It would have been a blow that knocked his head clean from his shoulder if he did not move fast enough. He almost didn't. The creature was moving out of hunger and rage at its space being intruded. He was lucky to doge in time like he did. The sword swung upward at the being's chest, thinking to slice it open, perhaps get at its heart, but... the metal clanged against some sort of shell that it had there. He stumbled to the side to avoid another blow that was fast coming towards him. A shell! It was no wondered that the others that died here had been unable to kill it. If it had been here for that long, though. His imagination had wandered and made this the creature that had torn apart the actual sylphs that had once inhabited this place, but it didn't seem old enough, its fight not deadly enough if he was able to get beneath its guard. A youngling of its sort, then.

He nearly shuddered at the thought that there could be another older one, or even more than this one. He had no desire to meet them, that was for certain! Kirn's hands gripped the sword tighter as he raised it once more. An underbelly that was protected... then he needed to strike from above! His feet took him backwards, and his left foot splashed ankle-deep into the water that stood in a still pond behind them. Something nipped through his boot to his ankle, driving him forward into the strange, mutated dog-like thing that was eyeing both him and Nia. Nia! She was defenseless, staring wide0eyed at the beat staying as still as possible. It wouldn't be enough, in this place. After all, it was so dark. Kirn didn't doubt that it either had eyes to see in it, or had a sense of smell that was enough to eke them out; it was a dangerous situation all around.

Ankle, bleeding, he rushed the creature with a loud cry. The sword slashed at it, but the thing moved far too agile for him to do much damage. Its snout was sliced open, though, and it let out a great howl. The green eyes turned a dark emerald with rage. Kirn felt his heart speed up at the scent if it's blood, the knowledge that it would be sure to come after him and kill him. Right? It apparently wasn't the case, deciding that Nia would be a far less troublesome snack, with no weapon to her and lying on the floor like that. Her own blood was still seeping through the robes that were on her left side, staining them a deep crimson, giving the creature an ample scent to follow. Kirn slid himself between he two, unwilling to let this creature harm her. He had his duty, and this was it. The sword rose again, dully reflecting the spirits that surrounded the room. They continued to pass through him at this point, were clearly doing so to Nia. She shivered, and clutched her side, feeling the blood almost freeze. It was terrifying in its own way. There was nothing else to do but wait for the final blow to come- the creature was strong and swift, and Kirn didn't know if he was a match for it.

The paw slashed at him, and he managed to hold it back with his strength, though he was nearly taken off his feet by it. The creature pressed its paw against it, holding Kirn there. It was a strange trick, a strange knowledgeable trick that Kirn didn't know where it had learned from. It was something that let the creature draw its face close once more and give a loud roar. Its breath stank of dead things and rot. It was the same as the rest of the things in this world. He shuddered and pressed forward, unwilling to let Nia also join the ranks of those trapped here, unwilling to himself be one of the beings trapped here.

The thing seemed to smile. Fear stirred at the expression on its mutated face, the mask of disgust that should never exist. And it wouldn't have in the outside world, but... Other Worlds were full of strange things like this one. The other paw raised much to Kirn's horror. The other paw... It would do far more harm to him than anything else. He was trapped between the things, feeling himself stiffen in the coldness of Death, and unable to do a thing about it. The slight tumble of stones behind him should have clued him into what was happening, but the only thing that he could imagine because of the terror that was rising in his throat was that there was another creature behind him, perhaps feasting on Nia as he held this being off. The thought nearly made him sick, but also started his mind racing on his own death. Perhaps... they would kill him quickly and he would not have to suffer too much. That was the best bet at the moment, and he clung to the somewhat- comforting thought.

The other option was.... He didn't want to think about it, but prepared for the descent of the claws that were sure to shred him terribly when they landed on his flesh. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and wasn't prepared for the cry that erupted from the beast mere moments later. His eyes opened to see it rearing back, trying to get something off of itself. Nia! A flash of white robes alerted him to her presence on the back of the thing, fighting valiantly to stay on. A small dagger raised upwards, colored red, and then flashed down into its back.

It had to be hard and difficult for her to stay on the thing's back. She appeared to be slipping more than once, and he saw her wrap her arms around the thing's neck in an effort to stay on, clutching tightly to the fur that threatened to let her slide off. It had to be slick in some way, because she was often grabbing at it, scrabbling from some hold to it that would let her stay on through the bucking and the terrible motions that the thing made. Kirn heard her give a cry of pain once, twice as she held on, trying to get at it more than she had. He rushed forward to help her, sword at ready. There was nothing more that he could do than fight it while she was on. He just prayed that he would not accidentally slash at her.

The cries of the spirits around them were disappointed, angry, and furious, even with the damage they were doing to the creature. It only strengthened their suspicions that the thing had been used to fight warriors before, perhaps in a gladiator-style match. It had been doing before, he could tell, but this was astonishing- how many years had they done it while dead? How often when alive? Countless men and elves had to fall beneath things like this, after all that time, but perhaps not recently, for in their fury the spirits were vengeful and terrible. They stayed in place over them, hiding together in masses so that there were veritable clouds of chill to try and get through without falling to the cold. And in the center they were far colder than many things Kirn had experienced. The creature bucked upwards, and then kept falling, falling so that it would land on its back, trying to squash the uninvited rider that it loathed and wished to eat.

A dead meal was still a meal, Kirn supposed, because it seemed that the thing proffered them alive, but at this rate... He cried out to Nia, hoping to warn her, but for whatever reason - the echoes in the hall, the sound of the creature's cries, her own fear- she didn't seem to hear him, or be listening. She held on even more tightly, and disappeared between the floor and the beast. He let out a hoarse cry. He had failed! The girl was dead! What other hope was there? The thing had to weigh two hundred stone, and she was frail as it was with that injury! The thought made him want to weep, but there was no time for the thing was rolling to get back onto its feet.

Kirn would not let it. With a ferocious cry that followed up the one of despair, his sword cleaved through the air at the things' back, cutting it as deeply as he could manage. It let out a nasty cry, an angry one and pain-filled one, but he could see he had not done enough damage to kill it. The fur was thick and matter, not to mention as slimy as it had appeared when Nia attempted to stay on. He drove it in like a spear, hoping that this would at least manage to do more than before. It did- the thing was shuddering, attempting to get up, bit Kirn must have damaged the spine somewhere. It was time to finish the beast off. He looked for its other wounds, estimating where they were. They allowed him to get through the fur and the skin folds that impeded him further. Kirn drive the sword in, and after a few more times, the thing lay still. He would have said as still as death, but that humor was far too much for him at the moment. He shuddered, knowing how close he had been to death, and afraid to look for Nia's body. He didn't wish to see her dead.

Instead, Kirn took care of his sword, making sure that it was clean of the blood that now stained it. He needed this more if he was going to encounter anything else, and though he could see it starting to rust, some of the rust coming off in flakes as he cleaned it- there was nothing much else to do. His ears hurt with the ringing death cries the creature had emitted, with the cries that the sylphs now raised to the heaves for his avoidance of death and his skillful was of defeating the creature. The thing that they had given over to fighting had been defeated at its own game. Kirn felt a sense of satisfaction that they would have a hard time pulling this with other travelers, but... But... there were other things that they could trap and make do their bidding. If they could open the door to this place...

That thought gave him momentary pause. There was that thing, the flying creature that they could still call on, and perhaps others, though their fury made it seem that at the moment the blue-skin was the only one that they had on hand. He needed to get out of here. Nia, though... her death had to be confirmed. He wouldn't leave without knowing that for certain. His eyes searched the ground, looking, hoping, terrified. Blood pooled around the creature. He couldn't see her, really, not yet. Some that was a bit different from the thing's seemed to spill out from underneath it. He gave a slight shudder, realizing that she must still be underneath, dreading what must have happened to her body with the writing and thrashing. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes. If she was dead, then his duty was over. He would be executed for failure to protect such an important personage, halfie or not. Half-breed, he corrected himself, feeling a few tears begin to fall. There was no need to be cruel to her when she was already dead.

He put all his strength into attempting to move the creature off of her. It was slow going- the thing was indeed heavy, and the skin did seem to have a layer of slime to it. No wonder she had such difficulty with it! There was no way to really grip, and that meant it was all the more work for him. A hand emerged first, looking rather battered, perhaps even broken. Didn't matter, since it wasn't moving, or giving any sign of life. Then her side that had been cut so badly. He could tell that his rope had come out, slicing her more thoroughly than before. The chill that had surrounded him because of the shades of the sylphs wasn't any colder than the dread in the pit of his stomach at that moment. She was also almost covered in the spirits; they almost hid her from his view as they crawled over her body and took their anger out on her. It seemed silly, really, because how could she have survived something so terrible? But he kept going. Her face looked pretty battered and smashed. Her nose had obviously been broken in the fall, and some blood trickled and smeared across her face. He was surprised the damage to her body wasn't much worse than this, in the end, though. He leaned down to brush his fingers against her face, ignoring the spirits that covered them both, filling the room.

She still felt a little warm, strange because the spirits were quickly draining him of heat. It should have left her body long ago. Perhaps it was a thing of the half-breeds. He wondered about it, letting his fingers rest on her cheeks. What else was there for him to do? He could feel his own limbs growing numb, could hardly feel his own fingertips. This was going to be the place he died in, huh? Strange, he had thought that it would be on a battlefield. Though this was close enough, with that fight. He drew his fingers downwards, thinking to pull out the necklace, the symbol that showed everyone that she was a member of the Order. He felt something as he did so, a slight tremble of her body. He paused, thinking it had to be something out of his imagination, a vague hope that was taking shape in the form of a hallucination. How could she=? But there it was again, a slight tremble. He scooted closer, hoping that this meant something more, that perhaps her life could really be saved.

Her hands were limp and cold, and the rest of her body was no better as he gathered her in his arms. But she was warmer than a dead woman had a right to be, and she was breathing stiffly, slowly, in quiet, painful gasps. No wonder he hadn't heard it! There must be some deeper injury to this. Perhaps broken ribs, perhaps worse. He moved her cautiously. They had to get out of here, past the pool of water where there were more flesh-eaters so that he could get a better look at her wounds and fix her up as best as possible. This was positively terrifying. He had never had someone so close to death be on his conscience but the Princes, but for her... there was no hope except another healer, and he didn't know where he would find one. The camp would most surely have moved on by now.

They were on the move, the spirits, trying to get between him and the other end of the room. They were successful, draining his energy and now his spirit as well as. He kept moving. Nia's condition dicn't help his worries any. She looked pale and fragile and seriously wounded. This was as bad as things he had seen his compatriots die of on the battlefield. Swears ran through his head, heartening him in their own way and keeping him focused. He attempted to find new ways of insulting the sprits that dared keep him and Nia from the exit from this death trap. Mist swirled around his legs, different from the ones that the spirits caused and seemed to be. There was nothing more that he could do at this point than to keep moving. The hallway drifted to an end that branched to the left and the right. There was no clue as to which was he should go, none at all. There were no doors down here, no paintings, and no signs. Just some more stiff statues that were attempting to guard the halls, though like old soldiers, were just as useless and would not keep him from moving onward.

Left. That was the way to go. Right seemed as though it would take them inward of the place again, if he was thinking clearly about where they were. Left was outwards, and the safer bet. He attempted to walk smoothly, not wanting Nia to be more uncomfortable than they had to be, even in the unconsciousness that she was in. His gut twisted ever so slightly, knowing that it had been his idiocy and fear that had gotten them into this mess in the first place. If he hadn't managed to stab her, then they could have made it past the creature, she might not have been crushed, she would have a better chance of living... as would he, if she did manage to survive. It was all so much for his own consciousness. This could never happen again. He held her close, not hearing another being, not seeing anything but spirits fading in and out of the walls, wailing their anger, wailing their sorrow, though he didn't know what they had to be sorrowful about other than the fact that they had not died. What a thing to be sorrowful about! Dread creatures. If they had always been like this, then it was no wonder the Creed had been put into place. The one clause that he was starting to reconsider was that of Nia's ilk, but for the rest of them... He glared at their grotesque countenances, made even more horrendous in death by the faces that they pulled.

He would almost have been amused by the proceedings if it didn't mean that he and Nia were still in danger. The noise had quieted down, for the most part, the spirits having accepted that they wouldn't be dying tonight- not until they reached the outside, at least. He worried that they would attempt to get the flying creature after them, but these hallways were too cramped and narrow for the beast to fly down. It made him wonder if it were perhaps outside, waiting to be unleashed on them. It certainly also seemed bloodthirsty enough, as much as the blue thing. The thought made him shudder. It was not a good idea to be dwelling on this. He had enough to worry about as it was. With the passing of the shades, it seemed that they were getting warmer, which was no small relief for him. There had been a real fear that she would freeze to death. As it was, her blood loss made it a very real danger that she might die.

He didn't need anything else to worry about. Her breathing was getting easier, and that kept him going. There were a few more twists and turns in the passages, but Kirn kept going. He stayed to the left, always, going outwards. It seemed after a while that they had left all confines of the palace, that this was some system that lay underneath the town. It didn't seem unlikely- after all, he knew not the reasons the Sylphs built like they did, or why the place had been abandoned. This was a place where anything was possible. Other Places tended to be like that, at least in the stories and tales he had heard. He was just grateful that this was merely a place that a city had been built in; never you mind that it had been built by enemies of the elves. He had heard far worse stories, of creatures that made Places that were their own hunting grounds, filled with fantastical ways to die. Those seemed to be easier to escape, since it was easier to tell when you were in danger there, but still, the stories of disappearances and some of the things that inhabited them were no treat to recall. Nothing like that would happen here, he hoped, outside of the beasts that they had already encountered.

Finally, the hallway that he had come onto came to an end or sorts. There were four doors, two in front of him, one to the left, and one to the right. Ach, as Nia would say. There was little to do but to set her down and open them one by one, to see what was behind. His sword was drawn once more after he had put her down as gently as he could, trying not to harm her further. The door to the left was opened first. It was a storage room of some sort, but what it had once held he could only guess from what smelled like rotten meat and fruits. He was grateful that there was no sign of bodies to accompany it. The door to the right, next. It branched into a hallway filled with more doors. He had no desire to see what was in them because of the sounds that were coming from it. He closed it quickly, before anything could scent them or hear them and come to investigate.

The door on the right, which had been right in front of them, happened to be a rather long staircase up. Up to where, he didn't know, but anywhere was better than down here. Down here was far too dangerous, and the spirits were gathering around them once more. He couldn't let them get to Nia, not with her blood loss and her health down like this. She would catchy something deadly, he was sure, as humans were susceptible to things like that and he wasn't sure about halfies. He didn't want to take any chances, though. The staircase up ended up in another door, something that didn't surprise him. This one was wooden, though, and it was far more dangerous that the stone ones. It rotted right as he pressed against it with his shoulder, trying to keep Nia from banging against it. He nearly fell over into the large hallway that it entered into. It seemed to be a servant's entrance of some sort, to this place... must have been some sort of political place, once upon a time. The spirits here were fewer, though no less upset at the two intruders. There were once handrails on the wall, and the stone was of a fine cut and expensive price. Rare in this land, though he'd heard that in the South it was more common.

This was no place to let her stay, either. Everything had molded! Everything had rotted! And with the spirits around them, there was no way Nia would be allowed to rest and recover which she desperately needed. It would be a gambit, but he needed to escape with her now. Tonight, or today, or whenever it was. The hallway had a staircase at the end that led to the outside. He could almost see the exit from where they were. He walked with purpose in his stride. This was not going to defeat them just yet, not while the Sylph was alive. There was no sound from around them, nothing in the place that had once been so fine. He almost couldn’t tell that it had been such a nice place because of the rot and decay that had taken over- even the ceiling had begin to crumble in, and his pacing weren't helping things. In some places the echo of his boots made things crumble a little more than they would have otherwise, untouched. It was so delicate. It was so sad, in its own way.

The mystery of what had happened here would have to wait. He needed to escape. They needed to escape. And with any luck, there would be no greenies to deal with once they did. That was one of his biggest fears, that the Greenies would be waiting for them once they were out. It was very likely. Places like this usually only had one entrance, or so was told, because what creature wanted others wandering into it> Well, those other creature that used Other Places to trap and kill its prey, he supposed, but this wasn't that type of place. This had been made for hiding the community of Sylphs, and that was all there was too it. Not even the Greenies had entered here, though why, he could not tell. It should have been easy for them, with the remnants of magic they had, to turn this into a nest of their own once it had been abandoned.

A slight cough caught his attention. He glanced down at Nia. She let loose another one on top of that, and whatever had happened to her insides seemed to be affecting her breathing. It came raspier when the cough came, and some blood spurted out. He wanted to gasp, nearly stopped in his tracks. Blood! She had been internally injured, with injuries to her lings! This was something to be deeply troubled about. What on earth was he to do! She needed a healer immediately. Nia probably wouldn't last long with those injuries to her insides. He knew that eves had an easier time dying with them, but humans... humans were far more susceptible to death, and he didn't know how much that side of her blood affected her. He could only hope that the elfish side would heal her enough to live until they got out to a safe place. With this, though, he could only wonder that she would probably need another Sylph to heal her. He wondered if one would. They all had to be Elves, he took it, since they lived long enough to learn the herbs and medicinal remedies. They were more practiced than any of the others. A human would be better for treating her, perhaps with a little less of the prejudice that ran in the thoughts of elves, the elite class in this nation.

But it was pointless speculation if she died before reaching anyone. He wanted to hurry, but her injuries demanded a slow and steady pace. It wore at his nerves every time he heard her breath hitch or come rattling through her body. It didn't help that he could also feel her body temperature heating beyond what it had been before. Fever, the deadly precursor to infection, if it was infected... He couldn't help but think so. The bow string had been an emergency measure and most certainly hadn't been sterile. It was also fairly thick, and though it had closed the wound for a while, it also left its own wounds as it had been threaded through her skin. The spring also could have been a culprit, resting here for ages upon ages as it had been. Perhaps in that rot and mold something had gotten onto it. It was likely.

The outside light was dim. He couldn't tell if it was daylight or sunset, and it didn't really matter at the moment. There were things out there, outside the building. One door had been left open, and a few distant cries of things reached his ears. They would have to take cover where they could as they looked for a way out- but how would they find the way out? This question had him pausing at the top of the stairs. Shades of sylphs wandered around him, now silent, and far fewer than in the tunnels. Ones of all ages started at him, murmuring in incomprehensible syllables and babble. Had they been so dead they had forgotten language? Or had they died so long ago they could not properly address him? The latter seemed more likely, from the state of the place. He started down the stairs, determined to keep going. If they wandered around eh edges of this world, then they were bound to come across something, some way out, right> It was their only hope. A quick peek of his head outside the door, and he could see nothing except more buildings, They were into the housing district, while this appeared to be some governmental building that stood out from the crowd. It was bigger, with columns that had once been elegantly carved, but now looked like misshapen sticks that held up a non-existent roof. The roof had crumbled long ago.

The houses were simple, of various sizes and shapes, but no taller than two stories. He could see the moon beginning to rise in the distance, while the sun set beneath the horizon the buildings created. They were not the sun and moon he was familiar with. The sun had burned a strange green, while the moon had a second, smaller one orbiting it. He wondered at that, what possessed them to make such strange but wrong likenesses of them. Then he shrugged slightly. It was none of his concern. What was his concern was the shadow of a beast that passed through the light of the moon and cast darkness over his eyes. He ducked back in, but the creature seemed to not spot him and kept flying on.

His eyes closed briefly, as the spirits around him deemed it time to send up a clamor. That was his signal to go. He cradled her once more and made for the nearest building, hoping nothing was inside it, praying that they would get in, and thinking that he would just have to keep moving if he was going to have any hope of keeping them from not being eaten. Death was one thing, that was another. There were far fewer spirits out here than there had been before, though whether that was because there simply were not that many killed out here or some other obscure reason, he could not tell. There was nothing to really hide them, the streets were fairly empty, the cobblestones cracked and the houses falling in. They were also of stonework. Had they collaborated with the dwarves on this? How long ago? Perhaps they had something to do with the disappearances of the people here. There seemed like few other choices. Some of the shades had the marks of creatures, yes, but not all. Some seemed perfectly hale and whole, and those seemed to number more than the injured! It seemed very odd that so many, of all ages (he could see some that were no more than children, but the range of ghosts was all over the place) that were struck down when they should have been living peacefully.

The dwarves were not so ingenious as to figure out some way to pull that off. They marked their territory in war and conquest. They were not being that would leave a place like this to time, especially if there was so much of their work in it, and they had most certainly made a good amount of this place. The building of the Other Place was the Sylphs, but Sylphs did not deal in stonework. They did not care for the deadness of it, usually, which made this place doubly odd. His footsteps made a pattering sound that echoed off the empty buildings- they had to be empty for no sane being would live here among such creatures.

Kirn crept close to the walls, where the houses connected with a few alleys. It was the alleys he had to beware, where something could leap out at a moment's notice, where they could get at the pair with little to no resistance. Kirn dreaded this, but the spirits from the houses gathered outside, following, making noise, though it was lessened somehow, in the darkness of the night, than it had been in the hallways of stone. Maybe it was the open air, because it seemed so oppressive. There were no stars in this place, just the light of the moon, and that seemed to be very little comfort to him at the moment. It was strange enough, since he didn't know what else was out here, and the similarities were striking enough to those of his own country that he was thrown off-balance when something was different. From the way the streets were laid out, to the dead things that inhabited it, even to the vaguely familiar shapes of the houses, it was overwhelming, and he didn't like the feeling. He had to steel his nerves, or they would be in far more trouble than they were already in.

A small thought went to the Prince and the other soldiers, hoping that they were all right, that they had passed through the forest safely. The Greenies were unlikely to attack them because there number was so large and well armed. That was a small comfort, though, because it still meant he and Nia were in danger.

He paused at the edges of the alleys, listening as best as he could for things. Spirits impeded his senses, though, going down the alleys to make noise, to draw whatever they could to them. He wanted to challenge them, but how could one do that to the dead? I was impossible unless he was turned to spirit himself, but he was blessed by the Gods- they would take his soul to the Next World, even if they would not take these sorry creatures. He couldn't help but hope the Gods would allow him to get some small revenge on them, though, for doing this before he was taken away.

He couldn't deny that there had once been dreams of an entourage welcoming him in the streets of the capital, welcoming as a war hero. This... was not quite the same. This was so close and yet so far off the mark that it was astonishing. He had to keep his cool, though. The spirits seemed to be fixed to certain places, so when he moved to another area, some were left behind, even though new ones joined. A few times he ducked into buildings because whatever was roaming the skies- and there seemed to be several, by his count- seemed to hear the clamor and came to investigate what was happening. It was a close call, since as they hid in the stairwell in the back, one draconian creature deemed fit to stick it's snout into the windows of the upper floors, nearly breaking the house, and indeed cracking the walls, and into the doors of the bottom floor. It seemed to find nothing of particular interest, and so decided to ignore the spirits. The thing growled, then howled fiercely, making Kirn's ears ring once more.

Nia didn't stir, however, and that worried him more than the creature. Her fever was running hot and true by now, and that made his heart beat with urgency.

Just a few streets over, he could hear a fight erupt between two creatures that inhabited this place. It was odd, knowing that they were so close, and other creatures were soon attracted by the blood that was spilling. It was a small blessing- they could hardly notice another bleeding creature over all that, could they? The houses spaced out, creating more danger as they neared The Edge. It seemed that the world was made like a bubble- the land just ran into the sky, with an abrupt distinction. It would be dangerous to touch it, he didn’t know what would happen if they fell into the sky in a place such as this. There was no one to save them, and it would most certainly kill them. Kirn was certain that even if they found a hole in it to leave from, it was going to be tricky to leave- the spirits seemed to understand what was happening.

They seemed to have some sort of way to get messages from one place to another, probably by word of mouth but this moved with supernatural speed through them. All the spirits that could get to the edge of the land crowded against the sky, making it difficult for his to see, and making it easier to trip over something and fall. With Nia in his arms, he wasn't sure that she could take a hard fall. And with the noise... Even if the one creature had dismissed it, others might not. The only thing to do was to walk, though. Those they had passed by quieted down, while those that were ahead started making noise, giving the creatures something to track by. Kirn was right- there were others that would be intrigued by what was going on, fresh blood or not.

He stepped up his pace, not close enough to the sky to fall into it, watching his step so that he wouldn't trip. He could feel himself tiring from the events of the day. He had hardly rested, and there was not going to be any more for a while, he suspected. He glanced down at Nia's peaceful face, almost surprisingly calm since she was obviously sick and ill. A thin trickle of blood was leaking from the corner of her mouth, indicating how badly damaged she was internally. A silent prayer went to to the God of healing, that he never really called on before. This was the time for a prayer to be answered, if ever there was one.

Distraught over the creatures coming towards them and Nia's deathly state, he nearly missed the strange gap that seemed to be in the sky. His eyes had passed over it briefly, it was almost as dark as the sky itself, but with a strange tinge to it that marked it as something that wasn't quite normal. His heart nearly skipped a beat, hoping against hope... His hand reached out into it, a space barely big enough for them to squeeze through. He felt a rock wall meet his fingers. It was an exit! He slid through, hearing the cries of the creatures almost upon them. Though the tunnel was as dark as the halls in the palace of the Sylphs, his eyes were adjusted enough that this gave him no problems. His strides were stronger as the tunnel angled up towards the surface, feeling hope bloom in his chest.

Revised "Chapter" 11

(plans are to move this to another section of the story- I don't like where it is at the moment)

It was great that the rain didn't last long. Not so great that it got into everything. By the end, the Prince and his men were covered in the stuff. It coated them in a thin layer, soaked through their clothes, crept under them in thin rivulets and nasty-smelling drizzles. He could hardly recognize some of his best men by the end of it. They looked like rotting creatures that had taken on the vague shapes of elves, not like soldiers that had taken cover from something. He hoped they would not encounter others that would mistake them as such. However, at the moment, it was more about surviving this forest, wherever it was. The trees seemed more alive than before, the goo giving them the facsimile of being alive, but they were now sticky, as if to trap prey, and the rattle of the leaves against each other had a sick feeling to it, more like the sound of a Venus fly trap snapping around its prey than leaves or the ashen whispers of before. It was worse than before for it, what with the knowledge that they were surrounded by creatures that would eat them at a moment's notice and having no issues with picking them off one by one. He hoped that no more were missing. The order for regrouping went out, and with that came the groups, almost at a run. In their rush they let sight of each other go, somehow, because a series of screams was let loose rather close, and the sick sounds that followed were not reassuring in the least. It was wet and crunchy and all the sounds that made people cringe at the thought of death.

His face hardened at the soldiers that huddled together, their nerves strained to the breaking point.

"Who lost sight of each other? Who wasn't watching another group?!" Fury was creased in every line of his scowl. His men were more cowed by his immediate danger than the one that lurked in the forest, unseen. A group let their hands rise, taking responsibility for what had just happened. They were at the far end of the line, almost the last spread out among the trees to cover themselves. When the call had gone out, they had just... moved... assuming that they were safe as they gathered together with the others. They had been, but the group that had been just a bit farther out had not. The cries had spurred them to the rest of the group.

Liam closed his eyes for a moment, almost afraid to do so because of what could happen to them. But there were too many to be done in like that with so many gathered around. He didn't show any sign of fear or weakness- that would frighten them even more, cast them into doubt and depression. Good leaders, like he had studied when he was younger, did not do such a thing as leave their soldiers in doubt. His spine and shoulders stiffened so that his frame seemed larger than normal, giving him an aura of power. It was a trick he had picked up from his father and the other generals long ago. "Soldiers! Move out! Cavalry, surround the foot soldiers, and no gaps between the ranks! Tighten up your positions!" There was nothing left to do but march on into the unknown.

The path had disappeared by this time, and they were forced to make their way through a maze of trees and undergrowth. Occasionally, the members of the cavalry gave small grunts. Blood slipped down their legs from where they had brushed the shrubbery. Greenies? Didn't seem like it, though that wasn't an uncommon tactic of theirs. This wasn't the sort of place they would hang around willingly, though, simply because they liked their greenery... living, and whatever this stuff was, it didn't really seem to fall under the common definition of 'alive'. The sap got into the cuts, though, and shouts soon came out. Eyes had been washed by tears long ago, but the sap clung to the skin around the wounds, and made it burn with an even harsher sting than before. It wasn't going to be the easiest thing to deal with. The woodsman was useless, unable to tell them what this was or how to heal themselves of it. How useless! There would be a demotion as soon as they were out of it. At least if the enemy soldiers had fled into this, then they were also at just as much risk of not making out alive. It was a small comfort to Liam, though.

The trees thinned out into sapling-like things that were as skinny and rotten as anything he had seen before. The soldiers were relieved for the shrubbery that had plagued them also disappeared with the trees. It did leave them in a very odd position, though- this place, wherever it was, was not on the maps that they knew. This was a place Outside. Liam's forestry and lore skills only gave him the information that various creatures had the abilities to create pockets of space where they could make their own kingdoms, and lure people into to be eaten, but this... to take an entire troop of men, spoke of an entry that had been ripped open. They were made to be small and easily hidden, so to be able to do this was something to be very worried about. Elves didn't have the ability to do such a thing, but he couldn't think of many creatures that did. Not only were these areas dangerous for any passing travelers, but it meant that they would have to backtrack in order to get out- something that wasn't possible. The ground that clattered beneath his mount's hooves had a dull metallic sound to it, and no prints of any sort were being left it. The sheer size of the area meant that it was not a place to wander about in, more dangerous than any battlefield.

The only creatures he could imagine that had made this place... it made him want to shudder at the thought of it. The woodsman was called forward once more, to give his opinion. He was cowering at this point, pale beneath the layer of slime, a faint blue tinge to his cheeks that spoke to illness that was setting in. Perhaps infection of some sort, though anything was possible. His legs had been slashed as well as any of the other cavalry member's, and who knew what this stuff was capable of? It would be a shame if he died before they got out- Liam didn't want rotting corpses attracting even more- and worse- creatures. For a moment he had to pause and wonder at how cold his thoughts on this were. He wasn't usually so cold, but with all the danger that surrounded him and what his men were going through and were still going to go through, he felt very little sympathy or sorrow for the man. The woodsman was terribly incompetent, and that was something that needed to be punished, as well as those who had put him in his position.

He vaguely wondered if they would come across Nia and her guard. They had come before them. Perhaps they were already dead, though. A flitter of sorrow crossed his mind at that. He didn't want to lose a Sylph that had her skills, and he did have a certain fondness for the girl that had saved him, even though she could not be fond of anything his father had done. But since he and the guard had passed through in safety, perhaps they had been equally lucky in returning to the camp. He gave a small prayer to the gods as he thought that, sending them his best wishes on the strange wind that warmed their skin. He brushed back his hair from his face to see better, then winced as he had to tug his hand off of his head. The goo! It was sticky! He could hear the soldiers beginning to have trouble walking, and the pace of the horses was slowed. Whatever this was, it was like the sap of an insect-eating plant, or the web of a spider. It was not something that should stay on their skin for long. He stopped his horse and give orders for his men to dismount, giving the order that the men were to use the water in their water skins to wash it off of their boots and hands.

It was strange to give such a thorough cleaning to their steeds, but necessary. They whinnied at the odd treatment, but held fairly still. The soldiers found it just as odd, and difficult due to the ropes that tied them together. It worked out, though, because once they were finished everyone found it far easier to walk. It was more difficult to move, though, since it also made their clothing stick and their equipment was useless with the goop on it. If there was any more trouble, then this was not going to go well.

Another start and the men were in slightly brighter spirits. The sun was looking bright and normal, and there were no more disappearances. They still had water, they were still alive. What more could they want? Even Liam could feel their relief. It was odd that in such an empty land that there could be such feelings. The saplings gave way to empty, rocky land. It was like the deserts told of in distant lands, and yet it wasn't. It was only slightly warm- even the rain of green sap seemed warmer than this land, but it also seemed to provide some insulation from the vague chill that was permeating the air. Their water was now low from the wash they gave their extremities, though they had been careful not to waste all of it like he had feared. But there was no place for anything to hide here. It was empty, a dead place. Whatever had been in the woods would stay there, and they would be able to find their way out in safety.

The sun set eventually, after an hour of hiking. It was a strange thing to know that the day had started out rather well. Even if they had been going to battle, that was a danger that was known to them. This wasn't, and it exhausted the men in a way that made Liam not press the march. Whatever this land was, it was small- he could see the beginnings of another forest in the distance. There was likely another entrance in there- and they would be able to find it with planning. The soldiers had to know something about it. Or perhaps something would come in their sleep. He knew that his own would be deep and dreamless. It was a tiredness he had only felt after long days on the battlefield, or when he was younger, after the intensive training- both mental and physical- that he had been forced to undergo. Liam touched his side. The wound was healed, but it had to be exhausting to his body to have done so, so quickly. That accounted for much of the exhaustion.

No tents were made. Men seemed to lie down where they stood, huddled in groups for warmth and companionship. He felt badly for ordering two to stay up, and set up watches so that the rest would not be in danger. Everyone needed rest. He and his men pulled their blankets from their packs and lay down to sleep. Not one of them approached closer than necessary, and Liam was both grateful for this- his own nerves were tense enough as it was- and disappointed, for even on the battlefield, companionship was something that was treasured. Prince Liam, though, was not someone to be comforted and befriended, he thought grimly. The sound of that statement rang in his head, echoed in his father's voice.

Ah, well. There was nothing for it. He closed his eyes, and was in a deep sleep before the next breath was drawn.

The dreams he had were almost euphoric. The kingdom he had was peaceful and prosperous, his wife was lovely and kind and his children were beautiful and smart. There was nothing he could want in it, nothing that he could desire for more than what he had. This was the life that he wanted so dearly, and this dream made it so real. It hurt like a physical wound to awaken and find that was not the case, that he was cold and wet and still in someplace that he didn't know. He could not have been more grateful for the awakening, the shouts from one of the three soldiers that had managed to stay awake on their watch, for the ground was trembling ever so slightly beneath them. It was almost unnoticeable- would have been completely if not for the quiet shifting of the rocks beneath them, and the fact that the horizon, so flat and lifeless, had taken on a strange round shape, rising above them. He could feel the stinging of his side that had been on the ground. Blood was on his hand when he reached to touch his face to figure out why. His eyes widened as he struggled to get his thoughts together on what was happening.

It was difficult. His thoughts were still on the dream, flickered back to it even as he shouted to raise his men. A solid half were so deep in sleep that nothing would do the job, while the others were disoriented, some gazing around in confusion and apprehension as those who could think more clearly shouted for them to get up, to get the ones that wouldn't awaken onto the horses in order to move out.

The only things that Liam could think were that perhaps his likening to plants earlier weren't so far off. The ground seemed to be eating them, the edges of the land casting up around them. The trees, like rows of teeth, to trap them or spear them should they try to escape. The sap... the goo... it must have had some sort of drug in it to make them less aware! Tossing a soldier over his saddle and mounting up, he nearly fell back off with the sudden dizziness that overtook him with the motion. Liam was determined to get out with as many men as possible, and to do that he had to help those who he could. Some men were being carried by others; more were on the horses with the cavalry, tossed there like sacks of goods instead of men. It was the only way to get them to stay. Ropes had been untied in the rush to get everyone ready, since some of the groups had a mix of conscious and unconscious members. It would not do to have them hobbled in such a way. Liam called out for the men to fall out, that no one was to be left to whatever fate was going to await them if they should be left here.

Thankfully, all seemed to be taken care of. As bloody and wounded as some were from the eating, they were ready to go. The ground was starting to eat away at their shoes. It seemed to be coated in a thin layer of acid of some sort, to digest them. He wanted to shudder, but instead gave the order to head for the other side. Anything that had been left on the ground was to stay. Their first priority was to get out. The soldiers marched quickly, even though it was difficult to move in the clothes that had stiffened in their sleep. Staying here was worse than facing whatever could be in the forest ahead of them, and that was a daunting thing. They remembered what had been in the forest behind them, wondered if a similar creature would just outright pick them off. But to be digested slowly was a painful and disgusting idea. At least they had weapons to deal with a creature of they came upon it.

The horizon was tilted up much more than before. It was odd to think that it had done so much while they were asleep. It was just before dawn, but the pale light of the sun barely overcame the land behind them. They were being wrapped in it, so that they could not escape. He shuddered, wondering how they were going to escape. His hand reached out to brush a sampling that they passed. What kind of land was this, to be living and yet some stone? These things... these were... He gazed back at his men. "Cavalry! As you pass into the trees, set fires! This is partly alive- it will feel it. Perhaps we will get an opportunity to escape this way!" Some of the men looked at him, bewildered. Set it on fire? While they were trapped in this place?! That could only set their fate to be smothered by flames and smoke, or to be trapped in the rocky land where they would be eaten for sure. But... there was the chance that it would work.

The men trotted faster into the forest as the men in the rear dismounted to set the flames. The wood resisted it at first, the green goop from the day before seeming to put it out when it seemed that they got a good start going. But with enough wood and enough heat, even the sap wasn't enough to resist the blazes that were being set. The trees acted more like charcoal than wood, and quickly blazed up into flames. Liam felt a grim smile light his face. Perhaps the deadness was a blessing in disguise. All that was left was to keep going and to see what happened.

It didn't take long for the effect to show. Whatever creature was in the woods with them alerted them to its presence by letting out a shriek, but no attack came. It was no small relief that another cry was heard farther off. The line of burning trees must have scared it, the men decided, giving a brief round of cheers as they paused to catch their breath. It was no small matter to be doing this.

The ground's slight shuddering became more of a quake. The ground buckled beneath them more violently than it had before. It was a nasty thing to deal with, the men falling over, the horses attempting to bolt. A few more woke up in the scuffling that was occurring, but they were safer where they were instead of on the ground. No trees fell, but the horizon seemed to move. They were closer to the 'edge', as Liam saw it, the place where the world fell away into nothingness, the edges of the creature's creation. It was astonishing and terrifying. He had never seen anything like it, and neither had the men, those who could take their eyes off of their horses and each other long enough to see it. Sounds, strange and unnatural, started up to their left. There was no sign of an opening, and the idea of going towards the noise was almost worse than facing the slow death they would have otherwise.

Still, they had to chance it. Over the sounds of rocks creaking and wood snapping, he issues loud orders for the men to head towards whatever it was that was making those noises. Thankfully, the sounds were dying away, but the men were not comforted. He had to inspire them to follow, or they would stay here to their doom. Liam spurred his horse onward, heedless of the cries of his advisors and guards. They had to get out of here. The fire was turning into an inferno, something that threatened all their lives at this point. The men took heart in his action, thankfully, and followed as best as they could with the world in the upheaval as it was. The tilted ground slanted even more, making it more difficult to go onward. It was closing like a fly trap around them. He could understand the terror those insects felt as they were trapped. That was not going to stop him.

There was no sign of any monster or creature as he kept going, but the trees gained some color. Instead of the deathly ashen color of before, tinges of brown and green touched their limbs and leaves. It was no small relief to see that, and to feel the quaking lessen beneath his horse. The worlds weren't simply one and then the other- they melded into one another slowly, gradually. No wonder they had all managed to stumble into it! It was one that the creature had created just to catch meals. The men were heartened by the discovery that it was coming to an end, both the ordeal and the world. That they were going to live seemed no less than a miracle. There was just the small issue of the worlds closing off. The woods didn't change at all for almost a minute, and the distance between the changes to the real world were growing father.

The thing was closing its space off from the real world! It was trying to keep them here! That should not have been a surprise, but now he regretted not waiting longer to order the fire set. He glanced around. There were no magicians in the elves around him, none that could take on anything other than what their bloodline gave him. But perhaps with his own... It was a vague hope. Any amount of magic was quickly extended. Few elves even bothered to train with theirs because it was seen as so weak. Few elves had it in the first place. His eyes closed, and breathing deepened as he kept riding, his men close behind. With the edges of his senses he could 'see' the end of the tunnel stretching further and farther away, closing down. A tiny spark of magic might stop the process for just long enough... He nipped his own finger and drew an arcane symbol on the shirt of the man in front of him.

It extended his power to the area in front of him, interrupting the movement of the world. This was one of the few spells that remained to them in this day and age. But it was never used- who actually was caught in and survived an encounter with an Other World builder, especially when the world was being built? It wasn't made specifically for this, though- it was modified for it. Liam grinned. Thank goodness his sister had put him through his steps in learning how to think on his feet about this. He would have to thank her later. The changes became more regular, the shaking lessened to a quiver, and changed to nothing, and soon they could be sure that they were in the real world. The sun was burning bright in the sky, where it had been barely over the horizon before, and there was soft earth beneath their feet. No monsters or creatures could be seen.

Now the problem was to figure out where exactly they were. And to get out of the woods as soon as possible, because the creature that had escaped was still out there, and they had no desire to encounter it, he was sure. His shoulder slumped as his guards and advisors surrounded him, thanking him and making plans to get out, as the soldiers cheered for their good fortune. While they weren't out of the woods yet (figuratively, but Liam allowed himself this one pun), this was something more than what he had expected, and it was a relief. No men had been lost in the escape, and while bleeding and wounded, they would be battle-ready in a few days. After some rest.

The instructions for how to get out were estimated, no less than two maps being pulled out and argued over for the better part of an hour. Eventually, Liam made the decision based on the word of two of his best soldiers that had fought in the wilderness before, and they started in the direction they estimated to be the best one. By the time the sun had set, they were out of the woods, out of the danger it presented, and ready to rest. Liam could not blame them. Watches were set up, and what supplies were left were passed around. The Mourning ritual would wait until the next evening- this was not the time. His thoughts wandered toward the Sylph and her protector once more, thinking that he would need to say a prayer for them as well.

Revised "Chapter" 10

You knows, Rotheryn isn't as safe as thems up power claims it to be. You young 'uns, you'd best be believin' that there's still the Wild Ones... thems Others... that still roam the wilds. We's rarely trespasses on their territory, we's stay in ours own borders, but that doesn't mean that theys aren't out there, watchin' for a chance to get yous. They're tricky like that. Especially afters the King and thems Advisors made the Creeds. Yous all know, the Creeds that- Kuon, sit down and listen!- made the halfies outlaws (why we's all can't rise up through marriage any more) and also made us enemies of them Others. Eh? No, Grier, I don't remembers what exactly it was, but... I'm not tellin tales, you all... Eh! Maire, another ale!
- Lesson from a Rotheryn elder (human) at a local tavern

Nia could smell the thick, rich loam of the forest. It was both relaxing and made her more nervous, as it was tinged with something sour and rotten. Had some fruit of last year gone uneaten and was spoiling? But these trees were strange. They looked like they didn't give any fruit, or blossoms, or anything for that matter, except for moss. Perhaps that moss was what the trees blossomed with. Even so, it wasn't exactly a pleasant thing to witness. They were covered from canopy to root in thick layers, some adhering to the bark of the trees, others draping over as blankets did people. Some you couldn't see for the veil of greenery that lay over them, as if it were some large room that the tree had claimed for itself, and was determined that no one should approach or steal it from it. It was astonishing to see it, and menacing, since it always felt as though there were something behind the walls, waiting, watching, hoping for a chance to reveal itself, or perhaps take them and hide them away. Never to be seen again, of course.

It was all rather frightening. her heart skittered all over the place, the only comfort she had the quiet company of Kirn, who spoke not to her, and didn't acknowledge anything other than what was going on around them. It was both a relief and an irritating thing, since nothing was happening around them. Nothing that she could sense, at least, but with her senses she guessed that he was picking up on far more than her. That was not a relief. If he could sense it enough to be on guard, that meant there was something sinister. Nia's fingers rubbed together, feeling the scratches that those cruel little sprites had given her. The blood had dried and hardened into scabs fairly quickly, thanks to her Elven blood. If only some other of the inheritance of that side were more useful!

Kirn stopped, listening. Nia followed his example, hearing only a soft whistle of the wind through the leaves and branches. It wasn't anything different from what they had been hearing for the last hour, after the Greenies had quit following (though she suspected she still saw them in the trees, their brick-like countenances and loamish hair streaking by at the edge of her sight. The wind actually whistled here. Something about the wood, the trees, made it seem as though a tune were being sung just a bit ahead when the wind was going. It had been going almost this entire time, however, which had put her nerves more and more on edge as time had gone on. It was tuneless and wandered randomly around them, which made it far more frightening than when they had been followed by the Greenies. At least, in her opinion. Those, she knew where they had been and what they were about, but this nothing that seemed to live around them was something else entirely.

Her eyes closed. Nia heard.... nothing but the wind, except the tune seemed a little richer than before. Just as silly and pointless, but there were more notes that went into it. She shook her head and looked at Kirn, waiting for him to say or do... something. She was not about to get herself in trouble over this. What had got him riled up, anyway?

His head twitched slightly, attempting to follow the sounds. Eyes flickered quickly beneath his eyelids, as if he were reading some impossibly fast-unraveling scroll. Her breath caught as she watched him, the pale violet statue that he had become in that moment. It was spoiled in the next as his hand tightened on hers. "This way!" Kirn hissed to her, pulling her along. She stumbled for a moment, unsure of what he was doing and why he was in such a rush. It had to be because they were in danger, and the adrenaline that had worn off from the near-constant worry surged back. She couldn't run as quickly as he could, but she was giving it her all. They slipped off the path and into the trees. Screeches filled the air behind them, as if a hundred birds were attacking. Except they sounded like birds that thirsted for the blood of someone that had disturbed their nest.

"Greenies? How did you-" She was cut off with a glare from him, and decided to save her breath for the sudden exercise. The sounds were approaching them. Their run was slowed by the thickening of the loam, soft earth that she nearly sank into up to her ankles. In places it crunched unpleasantly, in others it stung like briars, but she tried to keep up. The trees were creaking and groaning as they passed, as if to warn the creatures that they were passing by. Perhaps they were warning them, Nia corrected herself, feeling the soft brush of spider's webs and moss over various parts of her body. At some points it even seems as though they reached out to them to get them on purpose, but such wispy and ethereal things would not hold them back for long. It was the ground and the forest itself that would, given half a chance. She wanted to shudder at the thought of it, since by now it was apparent that the stuff they ran on was no normal soil. It squished once, beneath her toes, and Nia didn't have the courage to look down. Whatever it was could wait until later, when she had the time to scream and fret about such things.

As it was.... She tripped over something that hadn't disintegrated entirely, that clutched about her ankle and was most definitely going to bruise later. She went down, her robes accumulating dirt and turning them a dusty brown as she lifted herself back him. Kirn had dropped her hand in the sudden fall, unwilling to go down with her. His eyes darted towards where the screeches were fast approaching. It was too late to change course, they were going to die! Nia reached out for his hand, backing away as she listened to the calls and cries of their little pursuers. Beings no bigger than her hand, that snarled and spat sap, which would eat them from the insides out... It turned her stomach. Her back pressed against a wall of moss, pressed into it and through it. She was uncaring of what lay behind as she pulled Kirn with her. Perhaps it would grant a momentary reprieve from the gruesome death. Perhaps... perhaps... she glanced up at the branches that spread above them, the moss hanging over like a blanket. The cries and shrieks had muffled and gained a confused tone, and it was no wonder- the moss had sealed up behind them.

Kirn looked as bewildered as she felt, and must have looked too. This was unexpected! A smile reached her lips as she felt a sparkle of hope ignite in her breast. She moved backwards, taking in the tree, seeing it reach above her as she neared the trunk and then... feeling darkness engulf her. There was no sound other than her own heartbeat and breathing.

The shock of this after the near escape overwhelmed her, and Nia passed out, wondering if she would wake up at all.

Kirn turned towards Nia as she kept backing up, seemingly in a trance. Some sort of euphoria, perhaps, at work? She couldn't make a sound, it was too dangerous, and if she kept up lie this... he started for her, seeing that she was going to hit her head on the tree. Her back slipped against it, and into it, and she just kept going, swallowed in an instant. Kirn could hardly believe his eyes. He paused for a moment, hoping it was just his imagination. A hallucination. He was not so lucky. With a shout- one that renewed the furious calls nearby, he ran for where she had disappeared... and also vanished into the darkness that had taken Nia.

It was no small shock to have that darkness, that emptiness, engulf him. If he had not known that this was no dream, he would have thought himself either asleep or dead. Had he not felt the weight of his weapons upon him and the clear memory of what had happened before, he would have imagined himself to be insane or perhaps have gone blind, Though there was no guarantee of the latter, was there? It nearly made him chuckle. The ways of the creature forests were strange and filled with dangers untold, magicks that were as old as time. It was no wonder he should happen to stumble into one of them at some point- he just wished that he was going to live the encounter. He could feel nothing around him, and even as he groped with his hands, felt no surface beneath his feet and no solid thing to give him an idea of where he was. All he could do was fold his hands into themselves and wait. Wait for what, he didn't know, but what else were his choices? It made him shudder to think that he had to stay like this for an unknown period of time.

But wait he did, unsure of whether his eyes were open or closed and wondering if he would see Nia- or anything else- ever again.

He must have fallen asleep at some point, for it was with a yawn that he opened his eyes to light. It stung his eyes for a moment, and he had to turn away from the source. It was weak, flickering unsteadily, and barely enough to illuminate three feet around it. The darkness that he turned to seemed so much more welcoming after the time he had spent in it. How long that had been, he didn't know, but that was unimportant at the moment. After a few seconds, when his eyes had adjusted to it, he slowly let his gaze find the source. It was a hanging lamp of some sort, and as Kirn approached, he found it to be filled with a number of twinklebugs. They shone like weak stars in the night, but were decently bright enough that they could be used for such things if it was so desired. It wasn't often, though, except in the most desperate of circumstances, as they died easily and dimmed even sooner than that. He grasped it from the hook in the ceiling that it dangled from.

With it down about eye level, Kirn made his way cautiously forward. He could see nothing ahead of him, and had no desire to bump into anything that was lower than that with his shins. Some would say he was overly so, but a broken nose would mean blood, and who knew what would be attracted to that? He didn't want to think about it. He edged a little more forward, and from the darkness emerged a grotesque face from a person that was larger than him. He let out a startled cry, unsure of what to make of it and frightened that his death had come at last. The lamp dropped, as did he, cowering and shivering with fright. It was all he could do to not scream more than he had, though tears threatened to escape.

It was more than a few minutes before he had the courage to glance up once more. No sword was emerging from the darkness to join the face, killing him. No movement was made by the feet that were now showing. But the feet weren't really feet. They looked... odd. Still. Like something that had never really been.... His hand reached out gently, and discovered he was right. They had never really been (in real life, that was). They were painted onto a wall, and as he grasped the handle of the lamp again- which had gone dangerously low- he crawled upwards onto his knees and then up to where the face had been, looking up since it had been taller than he. The grotesque face was no longer so, merely sharper, with eyes that were deeply sunken into their sockets, and hollow cheeks besides a gaunt and stringy body. It was a sylph. A painting of one, at least. His eyes glanced at the lamp, then back at the painting. Who made these anymore? They were uncommon, as the sylphs themselves had gone to being as cruel as the greenies.

His hand against the wall, he started moving along it to the left, hoping that it would lead him to an exit of some sort. There was little else to hope for, since he had no idea where Nia was, and whatever this place was, he had no idea how to escape it.

He could feel rough patches in the wall, felt where paint was and had been, could smell the dust that covered everything- including the flaking paint that was covering his hands like pigmented snow. It was said that in some of the highest mountains, it fell as blue, but somehow he doubted that this kind had been seen anywhere. The light from the globe shrank quickly, as the bugs began to die. He reached in and picked out two of them so the others would not be exposed to the rot and death of their comrades, so that they would have more room and air and would live longer. It was the least he could do, so that he would not be in the formless night again. Rough edges of... something... brushed his fingertips. It felt different. It wasn't paint, nor the rough stone of the walls, though still stone. He traced the outline, his eyes straining against the nothingness that was threatening to swallow him. A door? Where had this been! He pushed against it, hearing it scrape against the flagstones of the floor, but not wanting to give up, no matter what was on the other side of his. He strained his body, and it moved further, little by little, inch by inch. It was slow going, but eventually he could see a faint light spilling from around the edges, spilling into where he was. It hurt his eyes more than the twinklebugs had, but he merely closed his lids so that he could keep going. If he paused then the door would fall back into place under its own weight, trapping him once more.

He could feel a sweat breaking out by the time he managed to get it open enough to slip through. He edged as close as he could to the opening, making sure there was enough room for him to slip through without getting crushed between it and the wall, or in the doorway, as was like to happen as not. It was a grim thought, but the faint grey light encouraged him on. A deep breath and Kirn went for it, pressing himself against the wall as he was unable to open the door enough to step into the room in front of him as fully as he was able. It swung closed behind him, scratching up his back, but that was not the important thing to him. The cool, wet breeze that cradled his skin was. His eyes were watering against the light, but he didn't want to let go of the sight. Wherever he was, it was someplace that he had never heard of before in tale or legend, or history or geography. This was some sort of palace that he had entered, and if anyone had heard of this, it would have been telling.

The slender hallway he entered faced some sort of solarium, where four wings met in the center, and a skylight opened up into the world beyond. Only gray light filtered through. It must have been a cloudy day here (odd since it had most definitely been sunny when he had disappeared from the forest), and fog rose from the sunken center area, where a large and twisted tree grew, the color of his skin. It was odd to see it in another living being, especially one that seemed to eschew such colors and existed in such vibrancy. As he walked towards it, his eyes catching the sight of moldering tapestries that lay on the floor and paintings in crude but vibrant colors that covered the walls, he wondered where this was. It was not the world he had come from, that was for sure. However, the only beings that could create such a place could be the sylphs- and they did not leave ruins like this, did they? Few lived to tell tales of such places, and sylph nations were not places that one just wandered into. They were often closely guarded and manned, and most who attempted such were gruesomely killed, their remains left as warning for others who would think to do the same. This place, however, reeked of age and neglect.

Could it be that the ones here had been wiped out? By the Greenies that they had fallen in league with, perhaps? No, greenies didn't have the ability to Pass like elves and other, more elf-like creatures. Like humans. His head whipped around, looking for some sign that perhaps Nia was here, perhaps had passed by... there were tracks in some mud that pooled in a little corner of the hallway, but they were animal tracks, as near as he could tell. The closer he got to the center of the hallways, the worse the floor got, cracked and crumbling. Vines and ivy reached up the walls, striving to conquer the stone that dared defy it and stay where it was. It was almost ready to fall into the center area, when he was close enough to look over. To his surprise, he realized that this was two stories high- he could vaguely see other entrances down there, through a fog that seemed to crawl and slither up the stones towards the second floor.

He couldn't see any sign of anyone else, though, and that was more than disheartening. Where could she possibly be? Or perhaps they had ended up in two different places? Kirn wasn't well-versed in the tricks and magicks of the old races such as sylphs, as they were enemies and to be avoided at all costs. He didn't even know much about humans, for that matter, but sylphs went far beyond that in obscurity. He stepped back, and waited for something that could tell him where she was. If she was able to be heard or seen anywhere here- this place seemed to have been built entirely of stone and it had been hard enough for him to get out of that hallway. That he had made it here was a miracle in and of itself! Perhaps she had been far unluckier in her area of reappearance.

It also gave him time to think about what had happened and how he had gotten here. Old stories told of getting to these places by tunnels or the like, placed in odd places, some in fruit, some in rocks, others in trees and nests. Whatever they were, though, they were Other Places. Not like normal ones, for entire cities could not be held in a normal nest, right enough! These were places to hide things, and the Sylphs loved to do that. They were odd to begin with, loving to play tricks, loving to hide away and be found, but when the King had discouraged the races to mix, they went from odd but prankful into downright spiteful. They went to old enemies, went to destroy old friends. And created these Other spaces, so that they could hide away and rest, and go to wage war another day. He supposed the lantern appearing was a leftover magic, something that let the sylph that entered know that they were welcome. Too bad there really was no welcome. Perhaps that was for the best, though.

He glanced around him at a rustle, and then realized it had come from below. He peered over, slowly, hardly daring to breathe to try and hear what was below. A shriek, decisively inhuman, met his efforts. A startled cry and he covered his ears as he backed away from the center. A dark-winged creature was rising from the mist slowly, and Kirn was not about to wait for it to get any higher up! He started running down a different hallway. The lantern was left behind, useless, as he hoped that he would be lucky enough to escape with his life. There was little else to hope for, in this place. A door, made from the differently- colored and textured stone than the mansion (possibly a palace, depending on how old it was) appeared to his right. He slammed his body against it. While it was going to leave a rather nasty bruise for the next day, he felt it give way more easily beneath him than he thought it would. It was no small relief to have it shut behind him. Thankfully, this place had a window to the outside, and with the light that filtered in through dirtied and broken windows, he could make out this was a sitting room; an entrance to somebody's living quarters. The wood was rotting, and the cloth for the most part had moldered away. He could feel the soft remains squishing beneath his feet as he ventured forward, hoping that he would encounter something more friendly and less dangerous than whatever had been in the solarium. He could hear its wing beats as it flew on past, seeking out it's mean with a few clicks and screeches.

Kirn was relieved that it would have no luck finding him today. His sword was now drawn, and he tested the weight in his hands. This would have to do- there were probably weapons of some sort here, but it would be dangerous to use them, even if they were not long-rusted and ruined. He could hear nothing from the next room, so hoping against hope, his hand pushed against the next door. It slid open far more easily than expected- the sylphs must have had dwarves help them with these, though their work had been unused for so long and most of it had started to fall into disrepair. Only dwarves could make doors like these, with no apparent hinges and light enough that one such as him could have no trouble. This room had once been a bedroom. He could see where the posts had once stood, and the few carvings that weren't worn away by time or things that ate such woods stared at him, strange and eerie. They were not ones that he was familiar with. They must live here in the Other Place, he reasoned, though that was no comfort. He would probably have to deal with them soon enough, and not knowing what they were would make them more difficult to defeat.

Piles of what once had been furnishings and clothes were in heaps, but it wasn't untidy. None of the ruin he had seen had been such unless it was simply by not being used. It was as if it had simply been abandoned. But why would the Sylphs do such a thing? There was no purpose to it, and whatever this place was, it had been built with great skill and care. His eyes strayed to the window in this room, which had been left open. Dangerous, yes, but he had to see. He slid forward, long-gone floor coverings almost ticking his feet, in this place where the memory of things long past was so strong. He could hardly wonder that there was anything left but the stone. There was no sound or movement but the wind, but it lacked the creepy whistling that the forest had, which had turned out to not be the wind but the calls of the greenies that were about to attack. No sounds were preferable, since the danger of them being signals to attack was high. He eyed the world outside. Fog and mist covered this Other Place. It was an empty town, large, at one point obviously bustling, but now left to the ravages of time.

It was a mystery as to why it was here, and one that he desperately wanted to know. It had saved his life, after all, but also... to know about it meant to know how to escape it. That was something he was unsure of at this point. He stepped back, unwilling to stay close to the window for too long. Back to the other room, glancing at the remains of what had to have been scrolls (what some people would give to be able to read them! He would be able to buy back his belongings and tools ten times over, but alas, these were in far too poor condition for anyone to read). Another door on the other side caught his eyes, and he went to push it in, too. There was a light scuffling noise. He paused, holding his sword at ready. Whatever it was, he would kill it. That he was certain of. He would kill it before it killed him, and he would feast on its flesh! There was no creature that would stop him!

It only took a moment and a deep breath for him to gain the courage to slam the door open- thankfully, it opened as smoothly as the first one- and went in, his eyes scanning for the danger. It was coming at him, a blur of brown and white, spreading its claws out wide. His sword went into and through it, and a scream emitted from it. From her. He felt the weight of her body on his sword as his mouth opened. The only sound he could make was a groan, as the horror of what had happened filtered into his brain. The creature he had seen with his fear-addled mind turned into a slight figure, dirtied robes clinging to her, but flowing out when she saw him and rushed towards him, a smile on her face as the crown of white hair streamed behind her.

She was crying, lying on the ground and clutching at her side. Kirn started at her in shock, utterly useless and unable to do anything except watch, studying her, making sure she was really the little Priestess that he had vowed to protect and take to camp. This was no trick- Nia lay there on the floor, and when Kirn finally was able to do something, her dirtied, brown robed were slowly staining a dark red, as was the floor around her. The sword clanged on the floor, and she let out another scream of pain as he lifted and turned her, needing to see where the wound was and how bad it was, the robes ripped in his hands as he tugged on them, looking at it, and needing to get a better view. They were in his way, and that would not do. A hiss of air between his teeth, as he drew in a sharp breath. His heart and stomach sank to the floor. This was as bad as anything he'd seen, fairly deep but only cutting her side. She needed this stitched up immediately.

He felt around on himself, hoping for a needle, as his eyes glanced around. His gaze alighted on something that would do in a pinch- it was a pile of steel settings, what looked to be what was left of a clock. His fingers fan over and through the gears. If he was lucky... if he was lucky.... Ah! A spring! He pulled it from the pile and glanced at it. This would do! It had started to rust in a few places. It was steel, though, and hardier than most other metals. It would do for now- it would have to do. Otherwise, there was no hope. She straightened it out the best he could, then glanced down at his own shirt. Something to sew her up with... only one thing would do! He pulled out the string for a bow. While Kirn himself was not trained as one specifically, he had been trained to use one in an emergency, and this was something every soldier carried on them. Who knew what would happen in an emergency! While it was a rough solution, without it she would bleed to death. As it was, Nia was looking pretty pale- and with her complexion, that was no small feat. He untied her belt and folded it, making sure that she wouldn't bite off her tongue by placing it in her mouth.

With that he gathered the flesh, pressed it together- the slick feeling of blood making it dangerously likely he would lose his grip and stab her in the wrong place- and began to sew. He glanced at the window that was also in this room - was there no place here that was protected from the elements? - And could see nothing eyeing them from the outside. Even if there were, there was nothing he could do about it at this point. His fingers worked their magic, as unskilled as it was, to let her see another day. If they got out of this place, at least. Small whimpers were escaping, as were tears. She was definitely crying. Kirn wanted to stop and make the pain stop, but if he didn't, then it would all be for nothing. He couldn’t do that. It was no small relief when he was able to stop and tie the string. Nia had gone limp by then, from the pain, probably some exhaustion. But at least she was not in pain while she was unconscious.

He rested his bloodied hand on her forehead, pushing aside her hair so that he could look on her sleeping face. It was a comfort to him right now, and that was something he wasn't going to give up easily. His red hands stained the white strands of hair equally red, giving her a look that was not dissimilar to that of the punks that ran around the capital back home. A small smile escaped. He wondered how she would take that comparison. Of course, that it was blood spoke to something far more serious than simple rebellion...

This was a dangerous place to stay while she healed. Her blood was on the floor, and the wound was still oozing, though he had done his best to patch her up. She would need time, and rest, and the work of her elfish heritage to help her through this. For now... perhaps the hall where he had first come from? Nothing seemed to be there, and he would likely have been attacked if it were. The issue would be that creature from before. Was it lying out there in wait for him? Anticipating his next move? What else was he going to do, though? He took his sword back into its sheath and lifted the girl into his arms. She looked quite young like this, helpless, in a deep and possibly escapeless slumber.

His ear pressed against the door that he had entered the set of rooms from. He heard nothing out there, nothing to indicate a living presence. That might mean nothing here, especially with doors made of stone. He set Nia downright next to it, in a position to be grabbed easily and run with if so necessary. He leaned into the door, and it swung open more smoothly and before, almost as well as the inner chamber doors had. His eyes saw nothing as they gazed into the hallway. There was... nothing, though the hallway faded into darkness as it went farther from the skylight. His eyes studied the center area. He saw no movement in the fog that threatened to escape the bowl that cradled the old tree. His hand reached down to grasp his ward. Then his hand jerked back- he had forgotten for a moment that he could not pull or tug her. That would pull the stitches out, and the renewed bleeding would certainly bring something their way, whether they were aware of them right at the moment or not! He bent down, taking his eyes off the main area of the palace for a moment.

When he turned back, there, at the dark end of the hallway, was the beast. He froze, Nia in his arms, unstirring, but most definitely appearing to be a snack to whatever it was. It was humanoid, covered in a dark orange fur, and with two great wings upon its back. They reminded him of butterfly wings, but the orange and crimson pattern looked far more insidious than those. Its head swung around, enlarged nostrils sniffing at the air. Its eyes were a pale, sightless blue, but still managed to pierce his soul when they met his. He felt dizzy, more frightened than he had a right to be, and though the girl in his arms was not to be jostled or moved quickly, he found himself doing exactly that. His footsteps pounded through the hall, echoing and deep. The creature let out a loud shriek and a few clicks, and took to the air. Its wings pounded the air steadily. It wasn't a fast pace, but it didn't need to be- it was able to cover a lot of distance with one wing beat.

That distance was a curse to Kirn as his footing faltered over the cracked and dangerously crumbling rocks that were what was left of the floor. He could hardly believe that there was any way out from this situation. The door that he had come from was... was... open? He couldn't believe it. Almost didn't, but he could hear the wing beats behind him and they were the same tempo as his heartbeat, and all that he could do was dive in and pray that they would be safe. Thankfully, that was exactly how it worked out. The door closed behind him as he stumbled and bumped into it, and that left him and Nia in the dark, with no way to see, and no discernable escape. After all, the door had been open. But who had opened it, and why? He waited for someone to say something, to reach out and kill them, perhaps, but it never happened.

That was even more wearing How could he know what to do, how to protect Nia, if there was nothing to protect her from except that thing out there? Especially when there was so obviously something in here that he couldn't see. He closed his eyes and lay her down on the ground. His hands felt nothing on the floor but pieces of rusting and rotting things, nothing that would cause her harm for now. There was a fierce pounding at the door behind them, the creature unwilling to let his meal escape so easily. That was the case, though- it couldn't seem to make the door move. That was no small relief to Kirn, as he had little hope of defeating it in this place, with Nia so wounded. Time seemed to take forever in this place of darkness and silence, except for his own heartbeat and the rustlings and various noises from the thing that was attacking them. His hand went to Nia's, holding it as he waited for silence once more. It would be easier to seek out any other enemies when the pounding stopped.

It eventually did, though how long it took he didn't know. The pounding grew erratic, weaker. He could smell some blood from the other side of the door, signaling that it had likely injured itself in the rush to get at them and its attempts to break in. That was a good sign to him- it meant that if he was forced to fight it in some point in the future, he'd have a bit of an advantage. That was the best he could hope for, really. And then it stopped, the noise, the rustling, and the shrieks. The wing beats beat a retreat away, onto better prey, he hoped. That was also the signal he needed to get up and start figuring out another way to escape. He squeezed Nia's hand as reassuringly as he could, though she wouldn't be able to tell in her sleep, and rested his palms against the wall to the right of him.

Kirn's movements were slow and cautious, though that didn't stop him from banging his shin into something at one point (it sounded metallic, and felt like it too. It was all he could do to not shout at the sudden pain). His hand scraped against something sharp that was against the wall, and he could feel a faint trickle of blood that seeped from the scratch he received. Suddenly, there was nothing beneath his foot as he took another step. The suddenness of it caught him off guard, and he stumbled forward, trying to catch his balance. It wasn't very successful- his foot came down hard on an object, sharp and pointed enough to get through his boot and into his foot. He finally list all balance and tumbled down the flight of stairs. He knew that he was making a bit of noise as he did so, and was unable to stop the various cries of pain that escaped during the tumble. He didn't know if he had passed out when he reached the end, but after his eyes reopened, Kirn felt as though he had rested for a bit- even though there was a pounding headache to go along with it. It was an odd combination.

He didn't move for a while, making sure that he wasn't really hurt, before sitting up and removing the object from his foot. It felt like a long and slender rod- a piece from an ancient, destroyed apparatus or perhaps from some sculpture or decoration. There really was no telling with no light to see it by. It made his imagination go wild with thoughts and speculation. It was hard to bring his thoughts back into the moment, where he needed them if he was going to protect himself and Nia.

Kirn stood, feeling pain shoot through his leg as he walked. It was hard, he could tell it was bleeding, but it would stop. The wound wasn't that large. The only thing he had to worry about was infection. And if Nia survived this, then she would be able to take care of that. He winced at another burst of pain, but kept going. His hands felt more sensitive to what was going on with the masonry. It was astonishing how he could tell little nooks and crannies apart from old carvings that had worn away, and was able to tell what had been painted so long ago. It was astonishing, but for all he felt... he felt no door. It unnerved him. It was even worse when she felt a slight breeze brush his hands- he couldn't tell where it had come from, and had no reason to have appeared. It was cold and dank, and the light scent that reached his nose was of must and ash. What was stirring down here? He didn't want to know, but realized that unless he found a way out, there would be little choice but to find out.

He kept going, and the path seemed to slope downward. The deeper he went, the deeper the darkness seemed to be. It was strange, how he could almost differentiate between shades of it at this point. Some of it was no more than a spot of grey in nothing but darkness, other times it was a deeper shade of black that seemed to mark someplace where a statue or something similar stood- or once stood, as some had obviously been made of things not stone. They were long gone, while some of the stone ones had crumbled bases, a few even having fallen into his path. With his night vision increasing, he could make out them and avoided the worst bumps that he encountered. He stopped for a moment, after what seemed to be an hour of walking. It probably wasn't but each footstep took him father away from Nia and deeper into danger. That was the only thing that could be ahead at this point. He didn't like the slight whispers of air that brushed against his skin, or the soft crackle that occasionally touched on the edges of his hearing. He would have taken it for hearing the things disintegrate around him, but at this point, he was taking no chances. Kirn turned around and headed back for Nia. He couldn't leave her alone like this, here, where there was no way of telling what was around her. She was defenseless enough without her herbs and medicines. This only made the situation worse, and he didn't want her to wake up without him nearby.

It seemed even longer to get back than it had leaving, perhaps because of his worry overriding his sense of time, perhaps because the darkness made it impossible to tell when it was. Kirn hit some things in the darkness he hadn't intended to or had gone over before. It seemed like a few of them were in different places, and that made things even more troublesome. The crackling came more often, louder than before. It wasn't his imagination- it was sure that something was there in the darkness, that he couldn't see or touch or deal with, and his heart raced from the fear that ran through him. Nia! She had to be all right! If she wasn't, he would... he would be in a lot of trouble, from the kingdom, from the Prince. How could he face his Liege, having failed in this task? She didn't deserve to die because of his incompetence, and the Prince would have his head for failing his savior! He was gasping by the time he stumped on Nia, quite literally. Her dark shape seemed to blend into the floor and the shadows of the things around him. The darker shades of the painting loomed over her on the walls, the masks of the Sylphs boring into them.

He didn't like the sound of the whispers, like crackling leaves, like the breath of a mummy that had revived. He had seen something like it in a travelling show once, and had no desire to repeat the experience. There had been no sign of bodies so far, and most of those had probably been rotted away long ago, if the age of this place was anything to go by. He placed his arms underneath Nia, lifting her so that she was cradled in his arms. He was unable to draw his sword, but if they escaped fast enough, that wouldn't be a problem. She was still in her dream world, though, and there was nothing else for it. Taking slow steps, he started back towards the way he came. The crackle-leaves sound grew louder, thicker, but he kept going. It grew distant as he headed down the path he had been travelling earlier- he wasn't about to go the other way, since that was where he had come from and was fairly sure that there was no escape that way. This was their only hope.

The clacking of nails seemed to skitter around them. It was worse than the whispers. What was this? Why were they after them? Why were they even there to begin with? What exactly had happened here? All those questions ran through his head, distracting him. Kirn nearly stumbled and fell with Nia in his arms. It was a shock to him, and made him concentrate. Around him, though, he could hear the creaks of things unknown, the breaths and cries of creatures that would stir the blood of any seasoned warrior with fear and longing to be back somewhere safe and sound. It was not to be so for him. All he had was the woman in his arms that he clung to tightly. Perhaps too tightly, for she cried out and stirred, nearly making him drop her again with the motion. "Be still!" He hissed harshly.

The tone hit something in her, and she stopped. Nia curled up into him; he could feel her trying to get closer, probably trying to ward off the fear of what was happening. That would be no surprise- he would let her down and hold her in their last moments if he could. He wanted the comfort she could give him right now, more than he had wanted anything in his life. What hope did they have to get out alive? Especially as he limped and stumbled and hit most everything in their paths, be it old furniture or statues that he had passed by twice before with little incident. The sloping floor leveled out, and he could feel her trembling in his arms as they heard the moans and voices of people that shouldn't be there- people that had been long dead. The coolness and wetness of the air on him made him realize they had reached the level the fog and mist had been at- something that didn't comfort him. They might as well be twice as blind with that! He gathered Nia closer. It had to be uncomfortable for her, but she made no sound.

Wherever they were, it seemed a little lighter than before. Vague shapes and shadows weaved around him. At first Kirn thought they were tricks of his imagination, making out shapes where there were none in an effort to make sense of the place around him. But after a minute, Nia had tugged on his tunic slightly, to catch his attention. Deeming it safe or at least as safe as it could be here, he bent his head so that his ear nearly touched her lips. "I see people in the shadows. Please, am I going insane?" The question made him realize that what he saw was no shadows. They illuminated the painted faces on the wall, the Sylphs that guarded this place now that no one else did. They had to have been the ones that lived here- were they also the ones haunting it? It hardly seemed believable, but then again, that they had stumbled into this place and were not yet dead also seemed to be so. There was little else to do but to trust that these were indeed the spirits of those who had long since passed, though what they were doing was beyond him. Playing out their last moments? Frightening them on purpose? Anything seemed possible at this point, and equally dreadful. His grip didn't loosen.

There was little else to d but press on. A screech near his ear had him flinching, but there was no one there. Nia whimpered at his briefly- tightened hold, but was soundless and motionless. In this situation she had to be at a far worse disadvantage than he- she didn't have the fully-sensitive senses that he did, nor the capability of making out more than what the shapes and shadows seemed to be. They passed around them, through them, cutting them to the quick where they were with chill. Sometimes one passed by that relieved it with scalding heat, but those frightened him more. Nia wasn't much better off. In most light she would have matched the paleness of these shades that haunted them. Now, she blended in for the most part, but with a bright look to her eyes that spoke of terror and caught him in their sight, begging for relief from the nightmares that surrounded them. There was nothing for him to do but press on. The way split in three ahead, each way looking equally dank and dangerous. He could hear a wet dripping from one entrance, and wind whistling through another in a way that sounded ominous and deadly. The third was as still as the tomb. He paused, and shapes began to form around him from the shades that had been before.

More whole than before, they shrieked and scolded, and made cries from which no discernable words could be made. And they were indeed directed at the two trespassers, since the creatures that ran around them were decidedly fixed on them in motion and in the gaze that was fixed on them. It was no relief to them to know this. He could feel Nia trembling, about to snap from it all. Her voice finally rang out, trying to drown out the monstrous thunder that was filling the air around them. "What do you wish from us? How do we get out?" It seemed like a pointless question to ask those who hated them, but for whatever reason, the spirits were silenced. There was no motion as the stopped where they had floated by, no noise issued from their beings. It was as if they died a second death there, from those demands. Some parted from the room as still as death. They left it, cleared the way, made it so that Kirn could see a distance into it unobstructed. Wondrous as it was, he couldn't help but feel his gut twist. Could they trust these dangerous spirits that dared to frighten them, that were of those who hated elves, which he surely was, and which she obviously had blood from? No. They couldn't, he decided, and that was enough for him.

Kirn didn't run with Nia in his arms, not like she was, but he pushed into the sea of spirits behind them. The energy and breath that they had was sucked from them like water from a cup, emptying them of will and heat. He felt as though he was going to freeze from it all, and was frightened for it. It was tempting to just sit down and curl up with Nia in his arms, to try and warm each other with what little energy they had left. Wasn't that what they did in those mountain regions? Yes, and this way they would never be found out by those Sisters, who would surely behead him for doing such a thin, whatever the reason might have been. Ah, such a shame. That thought kept him pressing on. He didn't want to die from the cold, didn't want to dishonor Nia like that. She wasn't worth the trouble, and this place was not one to die in. He was a soldier- the place was the battlefield. And Sylphs should die in the same way, tending those who had fallen. This was no battle, and she was the one who had fallen.

His blood which had been stirred by fear, and later by terror, was now stirring with determination. What right had he to die here, dishonorably, when he had not even completed the simple mission of retrieving his things? Ridiculous! He pushed on through, to the room with the water dripping that echoed throughout the place and made it seem far larger and dangerous than it was. Well, at least, more dangerous than he hoped it would be. This was the place that they needed to be in. Shrieks followed them, as did the spirits. They were sending up such a racket it was a wonder no other beast had come after him!

There was a deep growl behind him. Perhaps he had spoken too soon. That was not comforting in the least. He turned to look over his shoulder, but saw nothing in the almost- fog that the spirits created by crowding themselves together. He Hugged Nia as best as he could, then set her down gently. She clutched at him, trying to keep him from going, but the wound had made her weak, and the pain was eating at her. She could not keep her grip before giving a moan and whimper of pain. There was nothing he could do for her at this point than save her from whatever was coming for them. Or try his best to, at least, because he doubted his ability to fight would do much good here. His hands clenched the hilt of his sword. He had not cleaned it of Nia's blood earlier- a dreadful oversight that would have him reprimanded for neglecting his weapon. After all, this was what the soldier lived by- and died by, doubly so when it was not in working condition. He had no idea how to tell what condition it was in now, though.

He raised it, feeling the weight and heft of it in his hands. It was a relief to have, relief to be carrying as some protection, though if this beast was as incorporeal as the spirits, he doubted it would be much help. Then again, if it was like the spirits, there would not be much to worry about. Too bad that wasn't the case. He could see something with deep green eyes approaching through the strange shield of must that the ghosts created. It looked ugly and dangerous. Like it would eat them up. He supposed it had to be hungry, living in this place by itself, with little else to worry on but the other creatures and whatever came through the portal. They were the latter, and doubly bound to make an interesting meal for it. The long-jowled creature had skin that dropped everywhere, like the skeleton wasn't big enough for the body it inhabited. It was bald, and he could see where the skin was hanging because of the light that emitted vaguely from the spirits.

The blue skin was just off enough from a nice color that it made the green look unnatural, or was it the other way around? It looked horrendous, with that skin that was nothing like anything else he had seen in his life, a sick color, the color of death in the winter that came to the purple-skinned elves of the North. As if they had been dipped in the sky and left to rot for a few days. The off color that made others recoil in terror, that perhaps they had been inhabited by a spirit of the snow that had left them to die when all the warmth had been sucked out. What else was there to describe it as? He shuddered. It left him feeling colder than the spirits did, and those continued to weave in and out and around him and Nia. Nia seemed to be unable to see them, or the creature, because of her weakened sight. There was no motion of her head that let him know that she was aware of their approaching doom. Why not, though? Even she had to know that something was wrong? But then again, perhaps she could hardly see him, and most definitely not what he was doing. It seemed her ears were on alert for what was going on, and were focused on him.

He would do the Prince proud and protect the Sylph. Kirn was determined to. If he didn't, he would... he would.... There was no answer to that, for if he didn't, he was dead. That was the only option left. There was little time to waste. The creature seemed to be sitting, watching him with eyes that pierced him in strange ways. Did it have powers of its own? Unlikely, though sometimes beasts had been endowed with them through experiments, or had picked them up from living in places with too much magic. This place was made with magic, so it seemed reasonable to thing that perhaps the thing had been endowed it merely by existing here. After all, it had been ages since the Sylphs of this place had left, and from the look of things, they had been entrenched here for far longer than that. Who knew how many hundreds of years it had been changing, the magic seeping into its core and becoming a part of its being? Because that was the only reason he could think of for his complete inability to move at the moment. He felt as frozen as anything, as an icicle dangling from some peasant’s roof, as a snowman that had been built in a field and left to watch over travelers.

Its eyes were glowing. It was bunching its muscles, getting ready to move, getting ready to take out its hunger out on the elf that stood before it. The cries of the spirits seemed to urge it on, and sounds that almost made it seem like laughter were issuing from all sides. What was this? Some sort of duel? A gladiator battle in the ruins of some long-forgotten city, held by participants that had no money, to whom the earthly riches were no more than the fields abandoned by the farmers? It made no sense. Jeers and all, that rang out, incomprehensible, but no longer because they were merely noise. Now it was some language that he had never heard or had heard of before. It resounded in his bones, harsh like the rock around them, but with moments of quiet clarity and a rhythm that spoke more to the softness of this place, the hiding that these creatures were so fond of.

For a brief moment, he wondered why Nia's station had been named after these creatures that were so clearly taking some sort of pleasure out of this. It seemed an off anachronistic thing, since they had long been enemies of the kingdom. Who knew? They certainly weren't going to give an answer, and Nia was as clueless as he was about what they were saying- he could see it in her eyes and the way she furrowed her brow. The glance around him made her attention catch on the creature that had begun to lope towards him, fangs at the ready. They gleamed silver in the misty, faded light that seemed to reach across a thousand years to this place. The drool that fell from its jaws coated the floor in a slick slime that was as green as the creature's eyes, Kirn could hardly help the shiver of disgust that ran through him. It alerted him that the balance of his sword was off, and in the dim light that shone off the smooth skin of the creature, so did it reveal that his blade was rusted. He could hardly believe his eyes. Rusted? But it had only been forged this year! And it most certainly not have done so with Nia’s blood.

It had to be a trick of this place, but knowing that would do him no good against the attacking beast. He refocused his eyes and prepared to kill the thing.