Children of the Silent Season (Heartbeat of the World Book 1)

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Children of the Silent Season (Heartbeat of the World Book 1) Page 24

by T. Wyse


  There was a quick flash of a claw, slicing her arm in a neat line. The cut was shallow, and short, but it burned. Amelie winced, but held her arm out strong.

  There was that warm lapping, down the brunt of her arm, and then it ceased. Amelie brought her arm back, intending to wipe the blood, lest it stain the relatively immaculate sheets. She had prepared a tissue stolen from the bed stand, but on inspection the wound had sealed itself completely. Her arm was, in fact, utterly without souvenir of the sacrifice.

  Kokopelli had grown, his fur finer, neater. His eyes shone white, with a sparkling halo of red. He spoke, and it echoed with nobility, rather than a crackled muffle. “The first truth I will give you is this: you call your pursuers crows, but they are of one being, one mind. She may be of many pieces, formed of seeking eyes beyond count, but she is simply ‘Crow.’

  “And now we cross a point we cannot return from I fear. I will tell you of Crow, and her kind.”

  Kokopelli breathed out, like before. The tendrils of white breath spun, caught in spiritual currents, then formed figures once again. Once again they faded into blackness before they could be perceived in full. The earth formed beneath where the figures had been, in its brown crescent glory.

  "In the Silent Season, things that do not exist take shape. Things that cannot be, the very concepts of things, become alive and animated, and walk the silent earth."

  Shapes emerged from the nether. They were barely visible, until a soft red glow illuminated them from behind. They seemed to have no real shape at first, cloudy shadows. Amelie looked at each of them in turn, only when her eyes locked upon them a moment did they flitter into shape. The first was a lurching humanoid, its proportions exaggeratedly muscular and looming. The second was a serpentine creature, with three grandly swooping wings upon its back. The third crawled forward, its growth stunted a little, then finally rested in the form of a two headed wolf.

  "These beings, are known as Aspects. They personify the intangibilities of human thought. What humanity deems important, even on a subconscious level, the values and fears therein, become spirits, both beasts and benevolent."

  A fourth figure shimmered forth from the nether. It was for all appearances the same as the seeking humans had been though lacking in their radiant green inner life. Instead a soft red glow emanated from within him, as with the other Aspects, and a beard of many years hung beneath his roundly styled face.

  The Aspects began moving through the silent world, Amelie’s eyes were still locked on the figure of the old man. He leaned on a cane, hobbling forth slowly.

  “Aspects represent raw opportunity. Those craving power, seeking to entrench themselves into the spiritual world, seek out these creatures and best them, returning them to the ashes from where they were spawned.”

  A new figure, shining blue, appeared. The blue figure met the lurching giant, stabbing it with an ethereal sword. The lurching figure threw its head back in mock pain, and exploded outward. Where its corpse fell, rose the silhouette of a mountain, shimmering blue. Upon the mountain slowly rose the figures of plants. The blue figure walked amongst them, then knelt down, in some gesture that Amelie strained to see.

  The image was swatted away like some troublesome gnat from the illusory world. The swiftness of her guardian’s paw had been too quick for her eyes, but she saw the lingering wisps of wind from its strike, the tendrilous remains of the lines tracing back to his paw.

  “Why did you…” She began, fighting that irritating fog, but was silenced by the movements of the image.

  The blue figure shimmered back into the world, climbing down from a mountaintop that now was beyond the sight of the lines. He strode to the winged serpent, thrusting his ethereal sword at it, but missed. The serpent reared back, striking him, and he fell to the ground, motionless.

  "Aspects fear those who would seek them out, those who would return them to the earth. Many are creatures of fear, many creatures of uncertainty. They wish to continue their artificial existence, for if they live unto the end of the season, they will become real, they will become personified in the material world."

  There was another swatting away of the figures as something happened between them. She could have sworn she saw the blue human rising once more before the dispelling of the lines.

  The snake appeared on the world, shimmering with a blue luster and a renewed power. It flew, strong and very real upon a once again living cityscape. Figures of people, silhouettes against a dim blue glow of the new world gazed up at the sight of thousands of the creatures above.

  There was a disconnect there, an omission of time. It was after the season had run its course, Amelie decided finally, watching as the panicked humans were overrun by the children of the living Aspect.

  The lines were disrupted again, rippling like a pool of disturbed water, then they rested once more on the image of the empty world. The blue warrior rose up again, leaping into the air, and caught the snake creature unaware this time, dragging it to the ground, slaying it.

  The snake creature erupted, much as the bulky warrior had, millions of tiny elongated insects burst forth from it, but instead of continuing the attack, they danced around him with a friendly merriment.

  The image was swatted away once more, leaving a cloud of darkness.

  “Why do you keep…urgh” She fought against it again, and this time there was that terrible ringing in her head, silencing her. Her silenced words became tendrilous ether, orbiting the empty world, and prying curiously around the empty blackened spots.

  He ignored this, continuing.

  "Know that while they may seem insurmountable, as long as you keep fear from your heart, you can pierce through their invincible deception, and see into their weakness."

  There was a pondering pause, Kokopelli’s tail brushed against the wind with aggravated contemplation. “Fine.” He purred softly, his eyes narrowing in resolve.

  The blue figure met the two headed wolf. They stared at each other for a time, locked in an attempt to master the other. Finally the wolf creature leapt upon the warrior, pinning him and killing him.

  "Though they lust for existence, Aspects rarely enter into the material world, when they do it is only in times of utter upheaval, when those who would master them are few, and without the power of knowledge behind them."

  The sun went and rose once more upon the empty world, and on its rising the warrior stood once more, alive and strong. Again it faced the great wolf, only to be slain once more.

  She realized that this was, at least in part, something that had been dismissed earlier. The rising of the warrior from the dead, something that had seemingly happened to her.

  "This, is the fate that the crows would have you suffer." The voice declared, the hint of the crackled purr returning.

  "Why did they let me go, then?" She asked, surprised that the ring had dissipated for now. Her breath caused a blue stream of vapor, a figure of her, with her dress appeared there on the empty world.

  There was something there, a lingering circle of some sort, a sphere unconnected to the world, enveloping the figure that had appeared on the canvas. It was dragged away quickly by the stifling paw of her guardian.

  "When they are borne from the nothingness, Aspects are aware of certain needs, but also of certain rules." A shapeless reddened creature rose from the earth. "They crave the power of sacrifice, but with the hunger comes the knowledge that the forced sacrifice carries a bitter taste." The shapeless creature devoured the tiny blue figure, the figure lay inside of it. Slowly the blue figure faded, and along with it so did the red figure of the aspect.

  "By paying respect to the chase, and the balances of chance, that is where the true power lies." The figure rose again and absorbed the blue figure into it once more. It spat the victim out, and chased it as it ran from it. The chase seemed to brighten the red tinged halo of the Aspect, but also brightened the blue figure's glow. They disappeared from the edge of the crescent world.

  How much power is w
ithin consented sacrifice then, Amelie pondered darkly.

  "The heart drives them as well." Kokopelli followed with more simplicity. "To see, to be willing to see, and to perceive of the aspects as they truly are, each has a heart."

  The wolf creature's tail began to pulse with an orange light. The staff head the old man carried pulsed with the same light.

  "To be open to seeing this, and to take advantage of this, is to master the Aspect."

  The day was reborn, and so was the warrior. The Aspect and warrior locked gazes once more, but this time the blue figure made a surprising move, leaping on the wolf's back. It struck at the beast's tail, and the beast exploded. Large lizard like creatures poured from its corpse who joyously met the man as a liberator.

  Again there was a premature dismissal of the image. Was there something there, beyond there seemingly being creatures, and objects of some kind inside of the Aspect?

  "Aspects represent a duality of forces. The ferocity of wild animals, may be balanced by the tameness of others. Some may represent kindness, and dependency. It's impossible to know an Aspect by simply seeing it, you must see into it, and know it, before you can truly understand it."

  The warrior met the shape of the old man. Instead of raising his sword to the old man, the warrior simply bowed before him.

  "Not all Aspects are malevolent, not all of them need to be returned to the earth. Some are forces which humans have known since their memory began, and having those forces personified in reality can be a positive thing."

  "I don't quite understand." Amelie declared finally. Her words travelled confused over the shape of the silent earth, flowing around it like currents of wind.

  "I still don't understand what Crow wants with me." She protested. The shape of the crows, their red eyes were pinprick dots, they moved like a snake down towards her shape in the pseudo world.

  "They seek the forced sacrifice, they seek to chase you and give you chance to run. Only through that may they gain power through what they take." The crows spiraled down towards her, enveloping her.

  “How many times?” she mumbled, the words trickled out a yellow drizzle.

  “Until you perish finally?” the enveloping crows paused. “When there is no sacrifice left to take, perhaps, when the well has run dry, but you are not there, not even close. While she seems mighty in truth, she is scattered, unknowing. She can still be shooed away, at least for now. Mostly she craves surrender, the end of your hope. Only when she has defeated your spirit can the feast of your sacrifice begin.”

  There was a new figure, a grey figure, who stood in front of the crows, stopping their progress towards the newly risen avatar of Amelie.

  "It may change, however." There was a thickening of the snakelike thing, the legion of crows had become reinforced, then increased again. Amelie felt chills, the grey figure burst into dust, falling to the earth, and her avatar was once again enveloped.

  Her avatar lay in the sand, and rose up, only momentarily before being devoured again, barely having the time to react. "They may change, come to believe that they have the power they want and need, and leave the chase and its rules."

  “Wait…” Amelie said, forcing the words out. “That blue figure, it was a different person each time!” She pushed the realization out before the ringing could beset her mind. The exact meaning wasn’t clear, yet its implications drove chills down her spine. It had been a different little blue figure fighting each of the Aspects in the memory, had they…

  Amelie squinted, she thought she saw something there, beyond the colours of the lines. Yet there was nothing upon the wind, no indication of an intruder.

  The light from Kokopelli was fading slightly, and the animated silent world faded away.

  Amelie realized what she had seen wasn't part of the little show. There were shadows in the hallway. The shadows were moving, but there was nobody there. That chilled feeling shot through her legs suddenly, and crawled at her back. Something was wrong, very wrong.

  "Hello?" She called out, desperate to be wrong, feeling against the blurred wind’s barriers. The silent world had disappeared completely now. There was a strange sound, so muted and subtle as she couldn't perceive it, yet it intruded into all of her senses, even the feelings of the wind.

  Amelie walked towards the door, stepping lightly, not sure what she was going to say if it was M'grevor, or someone else. The sound was there, as subtle as the hum of electricity in a darkened house.

  She looked at Kokopelli on the bed, and those crawling chills became an iced torrent of fear. His fur was standing on end, and he was transfixed with an expression of utter horror.

  "Don't." He hissed, "Come back here, quickly."

  Amelie retreated back, towards the bed. She was too afraid to do what her mind told her to do: it screamed "escape!" The sound crawled over her skin with icy nibbling, a whisper not perceptible as a whisper yet.

  The shadows themselves had seemed to taken a life of their own, they convalesced and pooled, pouring down the half visible stairway leading to the third floor. The thing, the shape forming, it felt intrinsically wrong, like some unplaceable taste in the back of her throat, only this was right before her.

  A long snout-like appendage appeared, slowly shuffling as if carrying some great weight behind. She only knew it from the shadowed aura around it, because of the strange contrast of its form.

  It was like static, only this was black on black. The form of the shambling thing was only knowable by the way the shadows moved frantically inside of it randomly, spastically. It was that illusion of movement the mind gave when looking for patterns when completely devoid of light. It was maddened hallucinations of tortured wretches staring into the abyss.

  There was that sound, a numb, silent sound. It was like a million bees at once, yet at the same time there was nothing but silence, nothing to hear.

  “A mirror! Is there a mirror here?!” Kokopelli sputtered.

  “A mirror? I…why?” She tore open the bed stand, but found no mirror.

  The thing shambled forward, dragging its nothing hide behind it. Its form paused, two talon-tipped hands grasped the sides of the door. It made motions, like some sniffing dog, maddened and blind, trying to find any sort of prey.

  “Shiny then! Anything with a metallic finish, chromed, like—”

  Finally it lurched forward, moving its massless bulk into the room. The thing moved like a crippled enrobed man, only instead of cloth billowing out there were hints of lazy, loose flesh dangling behind, flapping in an impossible wind. The thing was coming, coming slowly, and it wanted her, it sensed her.

  “No! There’s nothing like that!” She poured the contents onto the floor. “I can’t…I can’t see in this light!”

  "The window! The window!" Kokopelli hissed through that numbing sound of mothwings against darkness.

  Amelie fell towards the window, trying to tear open the boards. The thing, the buzzingly silent thing, reached out for her, dragging its heaps of stripped loose flesh on the ground. Its hands were tendrilous, impossibly long, and spindly, skeletal.

  In a desperate bid for freedom, she tore away one of the boards, her strength made sufficient only by sheer desperation. She wanted to get out, get away, but it wasn't enough, not enough.

  The light tore into the room, and pierced the silhouette creature, forcing its hands whipping backward into its body. Instead of shining light on its terrible form, the light passed through it, tearing a hole in the cloud, reflecting off of the stairwell beyond.

  "GO!" Screamed Kokopelli.

  Amelie leapt forwards, through the hole in the thing. It made a silent roar of horrid darkness, and she passed through it.

  She touched it, ever so slightly while tearing through its body. Sensations and memories overwhelmed her with the faintest glancing contact between them. It was the feeling of being alone, stumbling through a room, and knowing something was there with you, watching you, waiting for you. It was the emptiness of darkness, it was a darkness
deeper than a hermetic cave.

  Her eyes wide, her arms shaking now, she bypassed the stairs, opting to simply leap over the bannister and drop onto the stairs below. She landed hard, slamming her leg onto the blade of one of the lower steps. The thing was there, billowing behind her, flowing like inky water down the stairs, its wretched hand reaching out for her. She scrambled, a panicked animal, tearing with her fingers across the floor, towards the door, towards the light.

  “Ignore the pain, ignore the cold, the numbness you're feeling from touching it, just run,” her mind screamed. She reached for the door, fumbling with the knob uselessly. She couldn't look back, wouldn't dare to gauge where that thing was. The sound fluttered in her mind, fighting with her own maddened heartbeat.

  Finally, with supernatural agility fueled by panic, she tore the door open. She sensed it, a stink hanging back onto her subconscious mind, felt its coldness, its emptiness, inches behind her. It was there, reaching out dragging lazy filthy flesh of darkness and fear behind it.

  She erupted out of the door and into the yawning brightness of the day's sun. She landed clumsily on her hands, narrowly avoiding having a face full of dirt. She couldn't stop, it still wasn't safe. She scrambled up again, dirt flying off of her in silted clouds. She ran towards the gate, limping, on her last leg. Her eyes darted around the scenery. There was nothing there, just the ruins, an ugly old fence around Timothy's house.

  She didn't dare look back, didn't dare to stop, fearing the light somehow had not defeated it, had failed to force its retreat.

  Then, across the way, she saw the figure of a large man. He dropped the armfuls of wood he had collected, and began running through the loose soil towards her. She tripped over, falling this time full on her face into the padded dirt trail. Her eyes stung, her mouth tasted the still earth.

  She scrambled once again, rising with more pain, more desperation. Then she saw the first of them.

  In her irrationality, in the depths of a primal animalistic fear of a force so unknown and dark, she had somehow forgotten her original pursuers.

 

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