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.