by C. J. Aaron
“I'd prefer sooner, if at all possible,” Ryl grumbled.
Andr patted him on the shoulder, slowly shimmying his way off the rock covered peak. Ryl followed closely behind.
Their shelter for the night was a cave set about twenty meters below the top of the ridge. The pair had filled their water skins and stomachs as they replenished their supplies of the gritty tasting carrots at the last copse of gnarled trees shortly before settling here. They made their watchful descent to settle for an early night’s rest.
Ryl trailed Andr’s lead, carefully plotting his way down the moderate slope of the ridge. Without warning, his vision blurred and his head spun. He lost his balance with a gasp as he toppled forward. His enhanced agility failed him, and he slammed into the loose rock of the hill sliding into the back of the mercenary in front of him. Luckily, Andr braced his legs against a solid boulder, arresting Ryl’s uncontrolled tumble down the hill.
Ryl’s forearms and chest had taken the bulk of the impact from the fall. Andr helped prop him back into a sitting position, worriedly looking him over for injury.
“Are you ok?” he asked, his voice laden with concern.
Ryl squeezed his eyes closed waiting for the spinning to stop before attempting to answer.
“I think so,” Ryl responded hesitantly. “I don’t know what happened. One moment I was walking, the next, the dizziness took me from my feet. I don’t know if this is just fatigue, or if we have a bigger problem at hand.”
“Let’s get you back to the cave,” Andr said reassuringly. “Some extra rest tonight will hopefully do you wonders.”
Ryl nodded in agreement, yet in his heart he feared the worst. He could feel the subtle differences inside him. The blood in his veins felt sluggish, yet agitated, as if it fought to crawl throughout his body. As if it fought for every inch of progress. There was a war waging in his blood.
The sickness was beginning.
They made it back to their meager shelter without further incident. Ryl plopped himself down leaning against the back wall, laying his pack down next to him to serve as a pillow. He collapsed onto it with an uncharacteristic lack of coordination. Andr watched him with worried eyes.
Before tonight they'd remained vigilant in their watch schedule. The boredom from eventless shift after shift—night after night spent staring into the motionless darkness—was exhausting. The sound of their tired breathing provided the only soundtrack to their monotonous vigil. To this point, the fatigue had been held at bay by memories of the scream that had pierced the night. Images of the bloodbath they stumbled upon the following morning still haunted his mind.
He knew that Andr had been stretching the length of his own shifts allowing Ryl the additional rest. He’d sought to do the same, as he knew the mercenary needed the rest too, yet Andr had always woken, as if on cue, every time. Ryl watched the guard settle into his position by the door before closing his eyes.
Ryl hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep, waking with a start. His eyes were hesitant to adjust to the darkness inside the cave. He could make out the form of Andr silhouetted against the charcoal backdrop of the moonlit sky, head turning ever so slightly surveying the quiet night. He slammed his eyes shut again clenching his jaw together as another wave of dizziness rushed over him. His inadvertent groan drew the attention of the ever observant Andr.
“Ryl, are you alright?” Andr whispered.
“Aye, I’ll be fine,” he responded, not entirely convinced at the truthfulness of his statement.
Andr gave him a half-hearted smile, turning his head back to its original scan of the exterior. Ryl eased his body up to a seated position, leaning back against the cold hard stone of the cave’s wall. As quickly as it had come, the dizziness passed, leaving a mild sense of nausea in its wake.
Ryl’s eyes went wide as he examined the interior of the cave they’d chosen for shelter. Where there was nothing but solid rock earlier the walls and ceiling now appeared to be dripping like wax heated by a flame. He watched as the surface oozed down in sheets, small clumps falling noiselessly to the floor. Stalactites of liquid rock stretched to their limits before separating, splattering on the ground below. He shook his head, closing and rubbing his eyes.
He cautiously opened them again, afraid of what he might see. The rock before him was solid once more, though Andr had turned again at his unintended gasp. Ryl gave him a slight wave in response, placating his worrying companion. He blinked again and again yet the scene that met his eyes remained the same.
So focused was his attention on the apparent hallucination Ryl was unaware that he inadvertently scanned the area with his mindsight. He would have overlooked the blackened shape that appeared altogether had it not made a rapid sudden movement.
Ryl focused with intent, searching for the sign that now moved from right to left, skirting the edge of his phrenic mindsight. The mild nausea was forgotten as he felt his stomach drop.
A second black shape moved to meet the first.
Chapter 8
Stumbling across the small cave, Ryl reached the entrance in a flash, skidding to a stop at Andr’s side. He glared out into the darkness, eyes darting across the landscape before him. He closed his eyes, focusing his mindsight, locating the two shapes immediately. He opened them again and refocused his visual search on a small outcropping of rocks well off the face of the ridge they’d sought shelter in. His heart was convinced, yet his head needed visual confirmation of what he feared.
“What is it?” Andr whispered, caught off guard by Ryl’s sudden approach and erratic behavior.
“See that pile of rocks?” Ryl stammered out in a distressed whisper, pointing toward the outcropping he’d seen the shadows slip behind. “There’s something out there.”
“Ryl, what are you talking about?” Andr retorted.
“Just look,” Ryl hissed, interrupting the mercenary mid-sentence.
Andr’s eyes rested on Ryl for a moment before turning his focus to the outcropping where Ryl had directed them. Ryl switched between looking with his eyes, and searching with his phrenic mindsight, confirming that the distinct black shapes still maintained their discrete positions. Time stretched on; the apparitions remained hidden from view behind the rocks. He heard Andr let out a sigh as the world around them remained still and silent.
“Are you feeling alright? You’re acting strange,” Andr said worriedly. “I don’t see anything there.”
Ryl was frustrated; he ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the locks as they passed between his fingers. He froze as the idea came to him. Silently, he slid his way to the back of the cavern, falling to his hands and knees probing the rocks along the base of the wall. A chunk, slightly smaller than the size of his fist separated from the rest. Grabbing the loose stone, he rose to his feet, moving with all the speed he could muster in their cramped confines toward the entrance. Andr ducked out of his way as Ryl reared his arm back, launching the stone projectile out into the air to their right.
“What’s going on, Ryl?” Andr questioned, sounding less worried and more annoyed at his erratic behavior.
“Look at the rocks,” Ryl snapped quietly.
Andr slowly turned his eyes from Ryl to the cluster of rocks where he was again pointing.
The stone soared noiselessly through the air as it made its descent from the mouth of their small cave down toward the base of the ridge. The crack of its impact with the ground echoed like thunder through the silent night. Ryl watched with nervous anticipation as the sounds of the stone fracturing spread throughout the night like ripples over still water.
Before the pieces came to their silent rest, Ryl had his answer. He felt Andr tense beside him as a solitary shadow burst out from behind the stones, streaking across the open ground. The shape was nothing more than a blur across the dimly lit landscape before it disappeared behind another large, natural cairn.
Little in the sense of detail could be distinguished through the dark of the night. The creature was fast, lop
ing across the exposed gap between the rocks with large strides of its two long legs. Did the shadows know they were close or was it chance that had placed them behind that outcropping? Ryl shuddered at the thought—the answer was ominously clear.
They were being hunted.
“How?” Andr whispered, lost for words.
Ryl knew that they were running short of time; some secrets would have to come to light. With the bouts of dizziness and the hallucinations increasing in frequency, he was convinced the sickness they'd fled was now taking hold. He took a deep breath, finding the words before responding.
“I’ve hesitated in telling you certain things about me, not in any attempt to deceive you, but to honor a promise I once made,” Ryl said quietly.
Andr nodded as he listened yet his eyes remained trained to the outside, hand on the hilt of his sword.
“There's no way to explain it without sounding detached from reality, so I'll not try to disguise it. I’ve inherited an ability to see certain things,” Ryl spoke in a hushed tone. “Unlike how you or others see things, you rely on the details provided to your eyes. I can see them in my mind.”
“What can you see with your mind?” Andr asked skeptically.
“Contrary to eyesight, I can only identify certain objects by the color or glow they give off, and only at a relatively short distance,” Ryl continued. “Until a few days ago, the only thing I’ve ever been able to see were the other tributes.”
Andr removed his gaze from the darkness outside for a moment, twisting his head to Ryl. He squinted his eyes as he studied him for a moment.
“Those things aren’t tributes,” Andr said emphatically before returning his eyes to the darkened exterior.
“I know, I don’t understand it myself. The phrenic have the answers. That hope has carried me this far,” Ryl admitted. “To me, the tributes glow a warm, yellow or golden light. Whatever it is that lurks outside, it’s cold and black. Like a void.”
Andr breathed a series of long, slow breaths, scanning the outside for a few moments before responding.
“You know, if you had told me a moon earlier that you could see things, I would have rushed you to a mender. Would have questioned your sanity,” Andr confessed. “I believe you, Ryl. As far-fetched as it may seem, I believe you. When did you first see these ... these black shapes?”
“I caught the fleeting glimpse of one our first night in the Outlands,” Ryl whispered, watching for any further movement from outside. “The glimpse was so fleeting, I thought it was my mind playing a trick on me. I never saw a trace of it again until the night of the scream. There was a solitary black shape that darted away from the direction we heard the sound. From where we found the remains. I've seen no sign of it again until now.”
“Is it just the one?” Andr asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” Ryl’s voice was downtrodden. “There’s a second, behind the rocks where I had you look.”
Ryl closed his eyes, focusing his mind. He quickly located both shapes, motionless behind their respective cover.
“They’re both still there,” Ryl continued. “Both are still motionless. What do you think they’re waiting for?”
Andr inhaled a deep breath before letting it out slowly.
“Us, Ryl,” he whispered. “They’re waiting for us.”
The pair remained on guard together, watching the rocks for any sign of motion. Ryl frequently scanned the area, finding that the creatures remained where they were hiding. The time passed rapidly, as the sudden excitement spurred their tired minds into action. Ryl caught Andr hiding a yawn out of the corner of his eye.
“You should get rest,” Ryl commented. “I can keep watch now. They haven’t moved in hours. I’ll let you know if I see any motion.”
Andr waited a moment before responding as if searching for a valid reason to protest. Begrudgingly, he accepted the offer, shifting to the back of the cave with one final look at the exterior.
“Wake me if they move,” Andr ordered.
“I will,” Ryl replied. “Sleep well.”
Andr chuckled quietly before laying down to rest.
Ryl sat on the ground in the middle of the doorway to their cave, hidden beneath the shadow of the opening. He laid the spear across his lap, crossing his arms, resting his palms on the Leaves that lay in wait inside his bracers.
What were the creatures below?
What were they doing?
The thoughts of the possibilities carried him through the still watch. When his eyes weren't trained on the rocks, he surveyed the area with his phrenic mindsight. The creatures continued their motionless vigil, tucked safely out of sight.
Severe hallucinations, like the one he’d experienced earlier were thankfully absent throughout his watch. Ryl did, however, suffer through two additional waves of extreme dizziness as he stood guard. He braced his body against the rock at their onset, determined not to fall from his post. Both passed rapidly and he regained full control of his senses within moments.
The frequency of the bouts was alarming. Throughout his life, he’d never experienced any form of sickness before. The onset of the severe symptoms was frightening in their intensity as his condition continued to deteriorate. From all he’d heard the symptoms became debilitating. Did they have time to make it to the mountains before that happened? Even if they reached the mountains, what then?
The sun had nearly completed its circuit, pushing the darkness up from beneath the horizon. Ryl leaned back to stretch, rolling his neck from side to side to work out the kinks that had formed. A shadow from behind the outcropping on the left surged out from behind its cover heading toward the other that remained motionless toward his right. The second creature exploded forward, trailing the first as it passed its location. In an instant, the pair had disappeared behind the terrain to the south.
Ryl closed his eyes, searching with his mindsight. The creatures had already sped past the boundary of his range. All was still and silent once more. His eyes and mindsight scanned repeatedly yet no trace of the pair returned by the time the sun rose from below the horizon to the east.
Andr woke with the sun, greeting Ryl with a smile as he approached the mouth of the cave. After relaying the news of the creature’s retreat, Ryl and Andr hastily broke camp, determined to make a quick investigation behind the closest outcropping of rock. Following that, the plan was to move with all due speed to the north.
Sword and spear in hands they stalked toward the northernmost outcropping from where the first of the shadows had appeared. Andr called their approach to a halt, stopping twenty meters from the rocks.
“Do you see any sign of them?” he asked, his voice no more than a whisper.
“No, I see nothing,” Ryl responded confidently.
“Stay behind me,” Andr instructed. “Keep your spear at the ready.”
Ryl followed a pace behind Andr as he crept toward the rocks. Ryl checked again for any trace of the black masses in his vision at ten meters out, and again at five. In all directions, the surrounding landscape was clear of the blackened stains of the unknown creatures.
Rounding the largest rock that formed the right edge of the pile, they were assaulted by the unforgettable, putrid smell. The fetid, rotting stench elicited vivid memories of the carnage left behind by the unseen creature. The scent sparked another memory altogether in Ryl, a visceral experience that had been forever imprinted in his mind.
Andr dove, rounding the corner, throwing himself into a controlled roll. In doing so, he kept the bulk of his body out of the logical plane for a surprise attack had someone or something been waiting there to ambush them. He was on his feet immediately, sword ready to either defend or strike. Ryl was only a step behind as Andr slid his blade back into his sheath.
Whatever had lurked behind the rock was gone, leaving powerful traces of their foul odor behind. Sunken into the ground were a score of footprints, similar to the one they'd found earlier in their trek. The long claws on each foot left deep parall
el gouges in the earth.
Ryl rushed to take a deep, steadying breath as the dizziness struck again without warning. He gasped for air as he fell to his knees, closing his eyes as his world around him spun out of control.
The extreme disorientation passed in a moment. Ryl blinked open his eyes in the nick of time. He lunged backward; the spear slipped from his hands as the jagged, rusted sword bit into the earth where his body had been. Pieces of dirt and rock sprayed over him, stinging his face.
Chaos surrounded him. In every direction was a seething mass of disfigured bodies, churning over each other to reach him. Long claws sliced through anything in their path, swords impaled and hacked off limbs as they fought their way closer. He frantically pushed himself backward, his spine and head slamming into the rock behind him with a jarring force. His eyes clenched shut involuntarily.
Ryl struggled to correct his vision. As it cleared, he saw Andr was kneeling before him, arms outstretched, hands resting carefully on his shoulders. He was talking to him, but Ryl heard no sound. Andr looked worried.
More worried than he'd ever seen him.
Ryl’s hearing, along with the rest of his senses returned in a tidal wave of sensation. The back of his head throbbed, sweat drenched his body soaking through his thin clothes. He was shaking uncontrollably. The stench was everywhere. The noxious, gut wrenching smell of death. So too was his recognition.
“Ryl can you hear me?” Andr’s voice sounded panicked and distant.
Ryl felt his pupils contract and dilate in rapid succession as they struggled to focus on Andr's face.
“I know what they are,” Ryl said in a whisper. “The Outland Horde. They're here.”
Chapter 9
The pace they set leaving the scene was frantic. Through a combination of jogging and fast walking they pushed onward to the north, focusing on speed over concealment. The hallucinations and increasing frequency of the uncontrollable bouts of dizziness heralded the rapid acceleration of the sickness. They had hoped to reach the mountains, desperate to find safe harbor before the inevitable onslaught of the sickness overtook him. They had hoped to remain undetected.