34. [DREAM; fears]
(Prose or action tags are welcome!)
"Shhhh," a voice coos, steadying the tremble that threatens to mute it. "Shhhhh," the voice - a girl - says again, soft and too hoarse to be sing-song. It will take your eyes time to adjust to the light in here. There is a faint crack of sun visible ahead, but it does little to pierce the blackness in this dank, twisted cavern. A wind stirs the leaves outside, and it carries with it a smell. You might have smelled it before. You might not recognise it. But you know what it is,
Bloodshed, battle, and death.
Somewhere, not too close-by, but not terribly distant, either, there is a war being fought. You can hear it here, muffled as it is by the black rock all around. A crackle like electricity, a roar of fire, and the song of steel upon steel. A shout rises, wordless, and is cut in half. The sound of marching feet seems to make the walls shake.
Someone sniffles, their breath catching on a swallowed sob. "Shhhh," she says again, with renewed effort to be reassuring. "Go back to sleep. Go back to sleep and it will be over."
The words have a hollow-practised ring to them, like she's had to say this many times. Your feet take you further into the space - here, you have to twist your body, bow your head to fit through. The light is all but gone now. In the darkness there are two points of blue light, an alien brightness.
There is a girl and a boy sitting on the floor, huddled behind a jut of rock, her arms around his thin shoulders as he sleeps. You might recognise her face, though it's a far cry from the one you might see in Demeleier. Grimy and bedraggled as she is, she looks younger, much younger, and instead of plate and fur she is in silk and linen. Her eyes glow glassy blue, fixed on the floor. On a knife that sits before her feet.
She hasn't heard you, focused as she is. And she sounds like she barely dares to breathe.
"Shhhh," a voice coos, steadying the tremble that threatens to mute it. "Shhhhh," the voice - a girl - says again, soft and too hoarse to be sing-song. It will take your eyes time to adjust to the light in here. There is a faint crack of sun visible ahead, but it does little to pierce the blackness in this dank, twisted cavern. A wind stirs the leaves outside, and it carries with it a smell. You might have smelled it before. You might not recognise it. But you know what it is,
Bloodshed, battle, and death.
Somewhere, not too close-by, but not terribly distant, either, there is a war being fought. You can hear it here, muffled as it is by the black rock all around. A crackle like electricity, a roar of fire, and the song of steel upon steel. A shout rises, wordless, and is cut in half. The sound of marching feet seems to make the walls shake.
Someone sniffles, their breath catching on a swallowed sob. "Shhhh," she says again, with renewed effort to be reassuring. "Go back to sleep. Go back to sleep and it will be over."
The words have a hollow-practised ring to them, like she's had to say this many times. Your feet take you further into the space - here, you have to twist your body, bow your head to fit through. The light is all but gone now. In the darkness there are two points of blue light, an alien brightness.
There is a girl and a boy sitting on the floor, huddled behind a jut of rock, her arms around his thin shoulders as he sleeps. You might recognise her face, though it's a far cry from the one you might see in Demeleier. Grimy and bedraggled as she is, she looks younger, much younger, and instead of plate and fur she is in silk and linen. Her eyes glow glassy blue, fixed on the floor. On a knife that sits before her feet.
She hasn't heard you, focused as she is. And she sounds like she barely dares to breathe.