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.