04-24-2016, 02:01 AM
The light of the flash ebbed away slowly but inevitably, and the sun had again been rendered all but impotent by the time the Sage neared where the flash had come from. He was still on the beach, despite having left the shore behind, but this thought barely registered as he began to search the nearby wrecks for any sign of the flashes source. He felt sick as the dread stole over him once more, but vastly strengthened in this sun-defeating gloom. He trudged on, the mixture of dry and wet sand caked onto his boots. The thing about looking for a flash, after the fact there is very little to go on. He was relatively certain he was near where the flash had originated, but between the darkness and the shifting dunes, there was no sign of anything that could have been the source.
The Sage was becoming frustrated. The natural laws did not seem to apply to this place, the sun was lightless, and even after scrambling atop an overturned galley, there was nothing but sand and broken timbers in sight. He couldn’t even see the ocean anymore, though he felt that he hadn’t wandered far inland at all. Even if the darkness prevented him from actually sighting the water he should at least have been able to smell it and hear it. The darkness seemed to encroach ever closer, crowding him and encroaching on the farther edges of his mind. He shook himself with irritation. There was no sign of the flash, no scorch, no smolder, nothing to prove to him that the thing had ever even existed. That was no longer a surprise in this place. The darkness seemed to laugh in his ears as it continued to destroy the sun. The Sage gritted his teeth.
“What are you?” He shouted into the void, almost shocked at his own volume in the silence. He waited for a reply, standing in the darkness atop the broken sea vessel. For a time, there was no sound, no cry of bird, no wash of water, no breath of wind. Then the smallest of voices whispered into his ear.
“Your… death.”
The Sage’s will sagged as he heard the voice. It was too close, nothing normal could have crossed that distance without him noticing. There was no delaying the inevitable, he decided, and turned himself around every muscle tensed, preparing to react within the smallest of windows. He did not expect to get more than a sliver of time.
He turned, and at first he thought he had been struck blind, for there was no light and he could not even make out the boat on which he stood. He realized the truth as he held up a hand in front of his face, the gloved fingers still faintly visible in this utterly cloaking darkness. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he slowly raised his head to look at whatever he had sensed above him.
Easily thirty feet above his head. The darkness was punctured by a slitted pair of orange-tinted eyes. They gleamed down at him with a predatory interest. The Sage froze, his face a mask of uncomprehending terror. It would be better to play the fool until he learned more about this thing. The eyes gleamed down at him, their own glow the only source of light that did anything to illuminate his surroundings. The voice sounded again, far louder this time, a deep baritone sounding from the sky, “I have found your little HIDE-AWAY,” it rumbled to itself, “…and now the poem has reached its FINAL verse.” The Darkness seemed to coil in readiness, as if anticipating an action from him. The Sage simply stayed put, there was no chance of escape, so running would only provoke the thing to action. “You seem to have me at a disadvantage,” he shouted up at it, his own voice also seeming to rise far above its normal volume, though I cannot tell you how many times that’s been happening lately, he thought with slight irritation “You seem to know me, but I cannot imagine where I would have met one such as you before.” He said, putting off his best air of non-chalance.
He had been on his back-foot since the pirates had first found him, and his continued reactions seemed to be pursuing an inevitably downward spiral of peril. Culminating in a shadowy monster on an island of dead ships. There’s probably a reason for this… he mused, …or perhaps I just should have picked a different boat. The thing was still there, it seemed even to have grown slightly larger. It’s orange eyes watching him closely, they flashed slightly as the thing spoke again.
“Truly it would be a strange tale to tell, I have neither the reason nor do I care to explain to you. Neither of us will be here for long, and I have no need to assuage your crippling lack of knowledge. Outsiders who are unable to adapt are quickly are removed from circulation.” In an instant the largest mass of the shadows crossed the distance until it was blocking out everything else he could see. The Large orange eyes boring into his face with their intensity.
“Natural selection. ONLY the strong survive.” The Sage leapt backwards sensing an imminent attack, and there was a snapping off timbers from where he had stood seconds before. He never touched back down however, as he felt himself caught by something unseen. It was too solid to be shadow, but he couldn’t see anything to know what it could be.
“Only the strong, not the cowardly.” The Sage felt himself gaining altitude, as the orange eyes followed him. He lost all reference as only darkness surrounded him, “Not the cowards, not the sickly, not the slow, not the foolish, not the naïve…” The being continued, with every proclamation the Sage felt himself squeezed a little bit tighter. He was thoroughly caught; he could make barely the slightest of movements. The Eyes gleamed, two bright fires into his face as he continued, “NOT the WEAK.” It finished, then hurled him away. Only after he connected did the Sage figure out he had been hurled downwards. The Sage grunted, the force of impact knocking the air from his lungs even though the spray of sand greatly cushioned the impact.
The Sage pushed himself up and spit sand out of his mouth. He struggled back to his hands and knees, he could sense that the being was growing close once again. With a slight growl he sprung to his feet and began to run blindly in the darkness. It seemed running was the only course of action after all.
“You would DENY your FATE?” the voice sounded mildly annoyed, on an instinct the sage flung himself to the side, and felt something rush past him at extreme speeds. The Sage managed to turn the momentum of his dive into a roll, and he continued to flee, spraying sand into the shadows. He needed a plan, he had to find someplace to hide.
“You cannot RUN from THIS.” Suddenly the Orange eyes were in front of him again, and The Sage was flung against the wooden hull of a ship. He fell to the ground in a heap, pain sparking up and down his spine. He got back to his feet quickly, his body running off the adrenaline of unbridled terror, but was immediately slammed into the boat again. The being held him there, his feet dangling above the ground that he could no longer see. The orange eyes drew close, staring into his core once again, “You CANNOT, run from the inevitable.” The eyes glowed with a balefire and whatever it was that was holding the Sage began to apply extreme pressure, crushing his chest. “I need you to UNDERSTAND this.” The eyes somehow continued to grow brighter, but the Sage wondered if that was simply his vision being affected by his lack of air.
“but it would SEEM, you humans never learn it.”
The eyes disappeared, leaving the Sage in darkness. He struggled, the grip on him still continuing to tighten. Spots began to dance on his eyes, the only light in the utter darkness.
He was trapped in a void.
No sight save the darkness that surrounded him.
No sound save his own gasping struggles.
No smell save the stink of his own fear.
No feeling save the wooden planks ground into his back.
No taste save the blood he could feel trickling out of his mouth.
Somewhere nearby, there was a creak as the pages of a book were opened.
Another flash of light exploded in his face.
The Sage was becoming frustrated. The natural laws did not seem to apply to this place, the sun was lightless, and even after scrambling atop an overturned galley, there was nothing but sand and broken timbers in sight. He couldn’t even see the ocean anymore, though he felt that he hadn’t wandered far inland at all. Even if the darkness prevented him from actually sighting the water he should at least have been able to smell it and hear it. The darkness seemed to encroach ever closer, crowding him and encroaching on the farther edges of his mind. He shook himself with irritation. There was no sign of the flash, no scorch, no smolder, nothing to prove to him that the thing had ever even existed. That was no longer a surprise in this place. The darkness seemed to laugh in his ears as it continued to destroy the sun. The Sage gritted his teeth.
“What are you?” He shouted into the void, almost shocked at his own volume in the silence. He waited for a reply, standing in the darkness atop the broken sea vessel. For a time, there was no sound, no cry of bird, no wash of water, no breath of wind. Then the smallest of voices whispered into his ear.
“Your… death.”
The Sage’s will sagged as he heard the voice. It was too close, nothing normal could have crossed that distance without him noticing. There was no delaying the inevitable, he decided, and turned himself around every muscle tensed, preparing to react within the smallest of windows. He did not expect to get more than a sliver of time.
He turned, and at first he thought he had been struck blind, for there was no light and he could not even make out the boat on which he stood. He realized the truth as he held up a hand in front of his face, the gloved fingers still faintly visible in this utterly cloaking darkness. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he slowly raised his head to look at whatever he had sensed above him.
Easily thirty feet above his head. The darkness was punctured by a slitted pair of orange-tinted eyes. They gleamed down at him with a predatory interest. The Sage froze, his face a mask of uncomprehending terror. It would be better to play the fool until he learned more about this thing. The eyes gleamed down at him, their own glow the only source of light that did anything to illuminate his surroundings. The voice sounded again, far louder this time, a deep baritone sounding from the sky, “I have found your little HIDE-AWAY,” it rumbled to itself, “…and now the poem has reached its FINAL verse.” The Darkness seemed to coil in readiness, as if anticipating an action from him. The Sage simply stayed put, there was no chance of escape, so running would only provoke the thing to action. “You seem to have me at a disadvantage,” he shouted up at it, his own voice also seeming to rise far above its normal volume, though I cannot tell you how many times that’s been happening lately, he thought with slight irritation “You seem to know me, but I cannot imagine where I would have met one such as you before.” He said, putting off his best air of non-chalance.
He had been on his back-foot since the pirates had first found him, and his continued reactions seemed to be pursuing an inevitably downward spiral of peril. Culminating in a shadowy monster on an island of dead ships. There’s probably a reason for this… he mused, …or perhaps I just should have picked a different boat. The thing was still there, it seemed even to have grown slightly larger. It’s orange eyes watching him closely, they flashed slightly as the thing spoke again.
“Truly it would be a strange tale to tell, I have neither the reason nor do I care to explain to you. Neither of us will be here for long, and I have no need to assuage your crippling lack of knowledge. Outsiders who are unable to adapt are quickly are removed from circulation.” In an instant the largest mass of the shadows crossed the distance until it was blocking out everything else he could see. The Large orange eyes boring into his face with their intensity.
“Natural selection. ONLY the strong survive.” The Sage leapt backwards sensing an imminent attack, and there was a snapping off timbers from where he had stood seconds before. He never touched back down however, as he felt himself caught by something unseen. It was too solid to be shadow, but he couldn’t see anything to know what it could be.
“Only the strong, not the cowardly.” The Sage felt himself gaining altitude, as the orange eyes followed him. He lost all reference as only darkness surrounded him, “Not the cowards, not the sickly, not the slow, not the foolish, not the naïve…” The being continued, with every proclamation the Sage felt himself squeezed a little bit tighter. He was thoroughly caught; he could make barely the slightest of movements. The Eyes gleamed, two bright fires into his face as he continued, “NOT the WEAK.” It finished, then hurled him away. Only after he connected did the Sage figure out he had been hurled downwards. The Sage grunted, the force of impact knocking the air from his lungs even though the spray of sand greatly cushioned the impact.
The Sage pushed himself up and spit sand out of his mouth. He struggled back to his hands and knees, he could sense that the being was growing close once again. With a slight growl he sprung to his feet and began to run blindly in the darkness. It seemed running was the only course of action after all.
“You would DENY your FATE?” the voice sounded mildly annoyed, on an instinct the sage flung himself to the side, and felt something rush past him at extreme speeds. The Sage managed to turn the momentum of his dive into a roll, and he continued to flee, spraying sand into the shadows. He needed a plan, he had to find someplace to hide.
“You cannot RUN from THIS.” Suddenly the Orange eyes were in front of him again, and The Sage was flung against the wooden hull of a ship. He fell to the ground in a heap, pain sparking up and down his spine. He got back to his feet quickly, his body running off the adrenaline of unbridled terror, but was immediately slammed into the boat again. The being held him there, his feet dangling above the ground that he could no longer see. The orange eyes drew close, staring into his core once again, “You CANNOT, run from the inevitable.” The eyes glowed with a balefire and whatever it was that was holding the Sage began to apply extreme pressure, crushing his chest. “I need you to UNDERSTAND this.” The eyes somehow continued to grow brighter, but the Sage wondered if that was simply his vision being affected by his lack of air.
“but it would SEEM, you humans never learn it.”
The eyes disappeared, leaving the Sage in darkness. He struggled, the grip on him still continuing to tighten. Spots began to dance on his eyes, the only light in the utter darkness.
He was trapped in a void.
No sight save the darkness that surrounded him.
No sound save his own gasping struggles.
No smell save the stink of his own fear.
No feeling save the wooden planks ground into his back.
No taste save the blood he could feel trickling out of his mouth.
Somewhere nearby, there was a creak as the pages of a book were opened.
Another flash of light exploded in his face.
If history is to become legend, it first must be recorded.