Darkness: Chapter 10 - Ghosts

He laid his head back against the cold smooth surface of the rock; it embraced him in this little den like a cradling embrace. Though he had managed to pop his left shoulder back into its socket, the pain continued, each heartbeat sending a surge of bewildering pain beyond his elbow all the way to the wrist.

You should have done something...

He let a short, pained breath escape his lungs. He was safe here, among the maze of tunnels and small den like holes he had memorized, it had been the second tunnel he had searched and he’d learned its paths well. With the horror of the main chamber drifting from his mind and exhaustion taking his body, he drifted toward sleep as thoughts echoed through his mind.

What could you have done... what could be done at all...

His eyes shut, fading from one black to another while his mind’s eye settled and began to wander inward. Colours he had not seen in what felt like weeks raced by, greens, blues and yellows. Their sweet aura caressed his vision, vibrant with a life of their own despite their diminished hue of grey. Even his dreams were succumbing to the dark...

Sounds rushed by his head, the whirling of the wind and rustle of long grass in its breeze. Gentle aromas overran his senses with the scent of the trees mixed with humid rain drenched earth. It was overwhelming, yet also felt as if it was barely in his grasp for every moment. it was all held on to desperately, easily lost at any moment.

Nagrand...

Home, before the first war, before any woe, before the rise of the horde. He walked through the moon and star lit meadows of a place he clung to in his dreams, at a time held dear in his memory. His body felt strong, nimble with the vigour of youth and an eagerness of an unburdened heart. He had not felt this alive in decades, not a care in the world or a weight on his heart to blemish the moment.

Then he heard it, at first it felt like a clean musical chime. It hummed through his bones and pulled on his feet, turning him toward a small pond surrounded by over-arching trees. He followed obediently, summoned by rhythmic notes akin to a harp.

So calm, serene... peaceful.

His dreaming eyes moved around the water-side, his ears strained to focus on the source of the heart stealing song. Each note was like a whisper from the spirits, calling him to come closer and fall in love with the sound. Using his young brown hands to move aside a low hanging branch of leaves, he at last saw her.

Borla...

His heart skipped, leapt for a forgotten joy. Her back was turned as she knelt before the water’s edge, her long purple hair wound down her bare back as a braid. She wove circles in the flat crystal water with a hand, crafting shapes as perfect notes of song escaped her lungs. Kalimag, it felt like, but he did not know the words, or he could not recall them in the depths of his memory.

How he longed to place his hands on her shoulders, to run his fingers down her neck, to place his lips against hers. But his feet remained rooted, unmoving. What had begun as enchantment was becoming torture as the moon arced over the horizon, its yellow surface causing a pang of horror to rise in his chest.

I know that moon...

He had not seen that moon since he and his mentor had parted ways after exchanging blows, he had of course come away the loser and mortally wounded. A throb of painful memory ran through his left shoulder, his body shifting in his sleep on the injury but also remembering the old wound.

Was it tonight? Please not now, please do not ruin this moment...

He ran his eyes over her, pleading with silence to see her face one last time. But nothing, she remains with her back turned as her voice lowered to a sorrowful whisper.

”You cling too harshly to this memory, student.” came a cold, emotionless tone from behind.

A cold chill ran up his spine, turning to face those piercing purple eyes and that gaze that missed nothing, searching and always knowing. They looked upon him with annoyance, and he felt as a boy once again.

”Master...”