*
Another handful of hours passed as the duo slowly made their way along the path. Fortunately, no more obstacles were found; unfortunately, the awkward silence made any communication impossible. Eventually, the scenery changed as the path opened up. The rocky trail became dead grass and the sea dropped away to be replaced by miles of undulating hills. They were now standing on a carpet of grey bristles, which spread in every direction without end.
However, in that ocean of grey, there was something that did not belong, something that cried out for attention. Running across the hills, straight as an arrow, was a line of green. Two feet wide and stretching from north to south, the path was made from verdant grass, somehow brought to life once more. For Barsch, there was no doubt in his mind who had created it. There was only one person he knew who could have done something so… miraculous.
“Alza…” he whispered, almost in reverence.
“Agreed. She’s been here, probably not too long ago. We should follow it, cautiously.” answered Kingston, sounding like a hunter who had at last spotted his prey.
Unfortunately, nature had other plans. Even as they watched, the green grass began to fade, its unnatural vibrancy returning to the blackened discolouration of its neighbours. Soon, the only clue to Alza’s location would be gone, and whatever she had done to reverse death would disappear.
“Come on! There’s no time!” Barsch cried, as he sped towards the fading sign. Kingston had choice but to follow him, and soon both men were running full speed along the emerald path. In spite of the death surrounding him, Barsch found himself yelling out with joyful exuberance. It had been so long since he had last felt true happiness. Running along a disappearing path, with a gentle breeze and a warm ray of sunshine, he found that he was having… fun.
Beside him, Kingston was obviously not having fun. The old hermit was breathing heavily, and his hands shook from exertion. Once again, Barsch was reminded of just how sick his friend was, and how important their quest was. The serious nature of their journey, and the invisible, ticking clock hanging over them dampened his spirit, but it could not steal the small smile from his face.
Awakening Page 50