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The Kalarian Precipice - Chapter Five
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<blockquote data-quote="daindarkspring" data-source="post: 7409252" data-attributes="member: 6939181"><p><strong>Dain - Decisions</strong></p><p></p><p>Listening to the disembodied skull, Dain appeared to shake his head slightly, as if clearing away some annoyance. His eyes closed briefly and a sensation of falling into something soft and damp followed. The pain in his chest faded. Time slowed down for him, and he was keenly aware of his heartbeat in his ears, one beat, silence, and then finally another... </p><p></p><p>Everything was dark. And warm. And then…the smallest bit of light, as if from a distant and shrouded moon, passed through a tangle of branches to speckle illumination upon Essithea’s body. She was rising up out of a gloomy pool of water, wet hair clinging to pale skin. Her gaze sought him out, stopping his heart altogether when their eyes met. *You will know me.* Her voice was a trickle of water over stones in an underground spring. It was a tangle of roots in deep earth. *As you dream of me.* And above all, it was desire.</p><p></p><p>His voice was a knot in his throat. She was near to him now, near enough that her warmth fell over him and his stopped heart threatened to burst. Her breath was like a flower that puts forth its final and most perfect scent before the bloom wilts and falls from the stem. Utterly ripe, but a moment from death and decay. </p><p></p><p>Her lips touched his forehead, and at first they were as cold as ancient ice. But his heat passed into them and they began to warm. His eyes tingled, his body shook. *Give to me, as I give to you.* It was a plaintive, but it was also demanding. </p><p></p><p>She began to recede from him, her motions in perfect reverse of when she had approached him, backwards and unnatural. The shadowy mere swallowed her. He tried to reach for her, but his body froze and thorns rose up around him. Tearing him. Suffocating him.</p><p></p><p>His heart ached.</p><p></p><p>Dain took a step backwards, a jilted motion borne of brief panic. He was back from wherever he had gone. He recovered quickly, and wiped a hand across his face to clear the beads of sweat. The pain was back as well, and it helped ground him. His eyes returned to the skull, and there was a hint of abhorrence in his face. This thing was dead and yet not dead. It was cast out of the cycle of life and death, decay and rebirth. The only thing that stopped Dain from despising it outright was the thought that it may in fact be a victim, and had not chosen its cruel fate. </p><p></p><p>Or had it?</p><p></p><p>He looked over at Metea and Otiroth. This was their domain. Talking skulls and demon-spawn. If they were in the wilds, he would offer opinion…but here? The mystics and the cleric were the knowledge bearers. “We cannot stay here long. We should follow the cart tracks. Its fate…” He glanced at the skull. “…is your decision.” Maybe the dwarf could carry him.</p><p></p><p>Dain headed for the entranceway, both to escape the heat and to join Annit in watching for trouble. Jeovanna could keep an eye on the mystics.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="daindarkspring, post: 7409252, member: 6939181"] [b]Dain - Decisions[/b] Listening to the disembodied skull, Dain appeared to shake his head slightly, as if clearing away some annoyance. His eyes closed briefly and a sensation of falling into something soft and damp followed. The pain in his chest faded. Time slowed down for him, and he was keenly aware of his heartbeat in his ears, one beat, silence, and then finally another... Everything was dark. And warm. And then…the smallest bit of light, as if from a distant and shrouded moon, passed through a tangle of branches to speckle illumination upon Essithea’s body. She was rising up out of a gloomy pool of water, wet hair clinging to pale skin. Her gaze sought him out, stopping his heart altogether when their eyes met. *You will know me.* Her voice was a trickle of water over stones in an underground spring. It was a tangle of roots in deep earth. *As you dream of me.* And above all, it was desire. His voice was a knot in his throat. She was near to him now, near enough that her warmth fell over him and his stopped heart threatened to burst. Her breath was like a flower that puts forth its final and most perfect scent before the bloom wilts and falls from the stem. Utterly ripe, but a moment from death and decay. Her lips touched his forehead, and at first they were as cold as ancient ice. But his heat passed into them and they began to warm. His eyes tingled, his body shook. *Give to me, as I give to you.* It was a plaintive, but it was also demanding. She began to recede from him, her motions in perfect reverse of when she had approached him, backwards and unnatural. The shadowy mere swallowed her. He tried to reach for her, but his body froze and thorns rose up around him. Tearing him. Suffocating him. His heart ached. Dain took a step backwards, a jilted motion borne of brief panic. He was back from wherever he had gone. He recovered quickly, and wiped a hand across his face to clear the beads of sweat. The pain was back as well, and it helped ground him. His eyes returned to the skull, and there was a hint of abhorrence in his face. This thing was dead and yet not dead. It was cast out of the cycle of life and death, decay and rebirth. The only thing that stopped Dain from despising it outright was the thought that it may in fact be a victim, and had not chosen its cruel fate. Or had it? He looked over at Metea and Otiroth. This was their domain. Talking skulls and demon-spawn. If they were in the wilds, he would offer opinion…but here? The mystics and the cleric were the knowledge bearers. “We cannot stay here long. We should follow the cart tracks. Its fate…” He glanced at the skull. “…is your decision.” Maybe the dwarf could carry him. Dain headed for the entranceway, both to escape the heat and to join Annit in watching for trouble. Jeovanna could keep an eye on the mystics. [/QUOTE]
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