Post by spiral on May 1, 2011 13:38:42 GMT -5
Hello?
..
I wonder. Is there anybody here?
..
Pain returns first. Dull sensation. Lying awkwardly on a floor of bracken, sticks, scratching sharply at your face. You twist. You ache.
Smell. An animal odour, creeping, growing stronger. A deep, musky scent fills your weakened senses. You gag, rench yourself from the blackness. The sick burning in your throat forcing you awake.
But you are blinded. Or blindfolded. It is hard to tell. The floor sways beneath you. You would think yourself drunk, or drugged, if not for the sound of waves lapping around you. Your head sinks to the forest floor once more. Confused. Exhausted. Aching. How can it be? You are drifting, on a sea, blind, in a giant animal nest. Blackness once more, and you welcome the abyss.
Pain returns first. The rocking of a boat, the stench of animal, and hard sticks and splinters sticking into your face where you lay. Somebody coughs. You are not alone.
The waves lap.
The sea stirs.
Mingled with the stench of animal is something more of man. Strong. Acidic. It smells of burning, of dormant conflagration. Something in search of a spark. Is it torch oil?
"Who..is there? Is there anybody there?" asks a voice in pain, while another coughs.
The waves lap. The boat nest sways. Salt. Animal. Oil.
You try to move your hand, your feet. They are bound. You roll to one side and feel water rush over you. You gasp and kick like a worm, trapped in a nest, unable to see the bird who will eat it at last. Your feet feel the waves where they hang over the edge of the nest. Salt in the air. You drift on the sea. A worm in a nest.
"Hello?" croaks another voice. So, other worms lie in this nest.
You kick back from the nest's edge, bury your head in the bracken and push, scrape, and tear with the side of your face to pull the rag from your eyes. Blood weeps from the sticks' flagellations, one eye burns still, refuses to open, but the other blinks wide.
Stars wheel above you. A clear, fresh, freezing night.
The waves lap.
Your head lolls right. You see waves rolling in the moonlight, pink and blue in the twin shades of Nullin and Aldetor, the twin moons of Belenor. You twist and wriggle to find them in the sky. There, above and behind you. Nullin, a large lambent moon a quarter full with a solid dark spot showing Aldetor's slower ascent from beneath the horizon.
You laugh.
But your relief at the familiar is short-lived. A fiery streak tails across the sky above you. A comet? It burns closer, growing, flaming. It is an arrow. It whistles and gasps a final breath of smoke as it strikes the waves beside the nest.
More streak the sky, their source unseen beneath a horizon of rolling waves.
Salt water splashes your face, wakening you further.
Salt.
Animal.
Oil!
What do you do?
..
I wonder. Is there anybody here?
..
Pain returns first. Dull sensation. Lying awkwardly on a floor of bracken, sticks, scratching sharply at your face. You twist. You ache.
Smell. An animal odour, creeping, growing stronger. A deep, musky scent fills your weakened senses. You gag, rench yourself from the blackness. The sick burning in your throat forcing you awake.
But you are blinded. Or blindfolded. It is hard to tell. The floor sways beneath you. You would think yourself drunk, or drugged, if not for the sound of waves lapping around you. Your head sinks to the forest floor once more. Confused. Exhausted. Aching. How can it be? You are drifting, on a sea, blind, in a giant animal nest. Blackness once more, and you welcome the abyss.
Pain returns first. The rocking of a boat, the stench of animal, and hard sticks and splinters sticking into your face where you lay. Somebody coughs. You are not alone.
The waves lap.
The sea stirs.
Mingled with the stench of animal is something more of man. Strong. Acidic. It smells of burning, of dormant conflagration. Something in search of a spark. Is it torch oil?
"Who..is there? Is there anybody there?" asks a voice in pain, while another coughs.
The waves lap. The boat nest sways. Salt. Animal. Oil.
You try to move your hand, your feet. They are bound. You roll to one side and feel water rush over you. You gasp and kick like a worm, trapped in a nest, unable to see the bird who will eat it at last. Your feet feel the waves where they hang over the edge of the nest. Salt in the air. You drift on the sea. A worm in a nest.
"Hello?" croaks another voice. So, other worms lie in this nest.
You kick back from the nest's edge, bury your head in the bracken and push, scrape, and tear with the side of your face to pull the rag from your eyes. Blood weeps from the sticks' flagellations, one eye burns still, refuses to open, but the other blinks wide.
Stars wheel above you. A clear, fresh, freezing night.
The waves lap.
Your head lolls right. You see waves rolling in the moonlight, pink and blue in the twin shades of Nullin and Aldetor, the twin moons of Belenor. You twist and wriggle to find them in the sky. There, above and behind you. Nullin, a large lambent moon a quarter full with a solid dark spot showing Aldetor's slower ascent from beneath the horizon.
You laugh.
But your relief at the familiar is short-lived. A fiery streak tails across the sky above you. A comet? It burns closer, growing, flaming. It is an arrow. It whistles and gasps a final breath of smoke as it strikes the waves beside the nest.
More streak the sky, their source unseen beneath a horizon of rolling waves.
Salt water splashes your face, wakening you further.
Salt.
Animal.
Oil!
What do you do?
