Post by gathera on Oct 10, 2014 10:20:25 GMT -5
What is a choice? Is it that instant, that moment in time, a blink of an eye where one action changes everything? Asking others for their opinions on what I must do had not solved anything only made my choice murkier blurring the black and white of my decision to a bland featureless gray. Was this my destiny to be at this particular bay here, now or was it my choice? Regardless of which it was the die had been cast.
I stood at the ocean’s edge, its waves gently lapped at my boots as the crisp cooling sand surrenders the day’s final heat. It was night now both the sun and moon having fled the skies. Only cold distant uncaring star-light glimmering lit the heavens. The night’s air was chill and across the bay the first slender tendrils of fog were cat-creeping in across the bay. This was to be expected, the image unveiling here was of one that had haunted my fever-addled dreams.
Three men lay on the beach tightly bound in opiate trance their bodies splayed out heads touching. A slow patter of blood stained the sands. Cruel men with cruel faces I thought. No one would miss them and their crimes were evident. Scant distance away the remains of a ravaged hut stood watch over the three. The young girls cries from the shack had sealed the pirates fate; at least in my mind. From this moment on there would be no turning back. It would not be a clean death for any of the three; it might not even be just death. I shook my head. It was foolish to think such thoughts. To dwell on too long on what would transpire this night was to invite doubt and hesitation. Such would be fatal to me this night. Like the oceans wind I must be crisp and cold. I set down the wrought silver bowl and removed the black pearl from my pouch. It was a magnificent gem although it had cost me far more gold than it was worth. Still some things have value far beyond mere money.
The pearl slipped from my hand into a pungent oily mixture. Without hesitation I crushed the gem grinding it into a cloying ebon-hued paste. I closed my eyes to recall the twisting writhing symbols from my dreams and with practised hands painstakingly fashioned the marks. All was as it should be.
I steeled myself drawing a deep ragged breath and began to utter the words from my dreams. From my lips escaped the harsh guttural cadence of noise. Twisting sounds that rose like bile in my mouth spilling out into the night air.
They were jagged reverberations that caught in my throat like ground glass. Sweat dripped off me as I stood stalk- still my muscles burning in agony. Wet noxious damp tendrils of fog crept about me, gray cold strands that slithered malevolently over my feet. The air felt thick and cloying about me with rank with the fetid scent of damp and decay.
Flecks of blood stained my lips as I spat out the remaining serpentine sounds. I could manage no more than a low guttural growling of sounds now as I strained to utter the remaining words.
My teeth clicked like staccatos as the oceans damp and cold took its toll on me. Exhausted my muscles ached from their enforced stillness and yet I persevered. Had the summoning worked or was this all just some futile exercise of my fever driven imagination? I gazed out over the inky waters of the bay straining my eyes scanning for any sign. It was velvet darkness as silent as a tomb when suddenly the smallest glimmer of oddly hued light manifested.
From the oceans depths a bruised stain of illumination oozed lethargically out. A shimmering nimbus of flickering sparkles, a kaleidoscope of impossible colours. It was a dizzying array of radiance that sickened me to stare at. With a wet febrile tear three vermicular strands tore free of the radiant mass and languidly inched forward towards the men. Heavy damp misty tendrils crept over the prone pirates tenderly enveloping them into its grasp. A spiders-web of smoke cocooned the three in a coruscating glimmering haze. Red-green-blue each mist-enveloped form shimmered in spasmodic bursts of illumination with each pulse more blinding brilliance than the last until with a final blinding burst of cerulean radiance, darkness once more. Only one man remained basked in a dim afterglow of azure light. The others, gone taken by the mist, consumed … simply vanished into the light.
One last task remained. As from my dreams I knelt beside the prone form and from the jangling collage of shells about my neck snapped off a thin sliver. Fingers trembling I set down the bone sliver upon the man’s forehead. Twisting writhing the shell fragment slithered along the man’s forehead, crawling as if a worm upon a branch. With one final lurching motion the needle sharp shell slipped beneath the skin leaving only a small red droplet as witness to its very existence.
Slumping I slid down beside the comatose man shivering with exhaustion. Only vestiges of a lingering blue aura could be seen now. The man was weak now but in time his/its strength would return. Even now subtle changes had commenced; thin batrachian webbing between his fingers a profusion of warts developing on the back of his hand. The first of many changes, changes for us both.
I stood at the ocean’s edge, its waves gently lapped at my boots as the crisp cooling sand surrenders the day’s final heat. It was night now both the sun and moon having fled the skies. Only cold distant uncaring star-light glimmering lit the heavens. The night’s air was chill and across the bay the first slender tendrils of fog were cat-creeping in across the bay. This was to be expected, the image unveiling here was of one that had haunted my fever-addled dreams.
Three men lay on the beach tightly bound in opiate trance their bodies splayed out heads touching. A slow patter of blood stained the sands. Cruel men with cruel faces I thought. No one would miss them and their crimes were evident. Scant distance away the remains of a ravaged hut stood watch over the three. The young girls cries from the shack had sealed the pirates fate; at least in my mind. From this moment on there would be no turning back. It would not be a clean death for any of the three; it might not even be just death. I shook my head. It was foolish to think such thoughts. To dwell on too long on what would transpire this night was to invite doubt and hesitation. Such would be fatal to me this night. Like the oceans wind I must be crisp and cold. I set down the wrought silver bowl and removed the black pearl from my pouch. It was a magnificent gem although it had cost me far more gold than it was worth. Still some things have value far beyond mere money.
The pearl slipped from my hand into a pungent oily mixture. Without hesitation I crushed the gem grinding it into a cloying ebon-hued paste. I closed my eyes to recall the twisting writhing symbols from my dreams and with practised hands painstakingly fashioned the marks. All was as it should be.
I steeled myself drawing a deep ragged breath and began to utter the words from my dreams. From my lips escaped the harsh guttural cadence of noise. Twisting sounds that rose like bile in my mouth spilling out into the night air.
Ya uln vordanyi gln nog nw sgu'wahl shugg-or Abeir-Toril
Gof'nni gh Ygorl hupadgh
Wahli mg nawali
Gof'nni gh Ygorl hupadgh
Wahli mg nawali
They were jagged reverberations that caught in my throat like ground glass. Sweat dripped off me as I stood stalk- still my muscles burning in agony. Wet noxious damp tendrils of fog crept about me, gray cold strands that slithered malevolently over my feet. The air felt thick and cloying about me with rank with the fetid scent of damp and decay.
Ch'Abeir-Toril ah-ftaghu gh fhtagn
Goka h'grah'n Ya stell'bsna
Athg nahrii orr'e goka hai-n
Goka h'grah'n Ya stell'bsna
Athg nahrii orr'e goka hai-n
Flecks of blood stained my lips as I spat out the remaining serpentine sounds. I could manage no more than a low guttural growling of sounds now as I strained to utter the remaining words.
K'yarnak bsna Vordanyi-gof'n n h'shugg n'ghft
Ya Ygorl-nyth stell'bsna s'uhn hai
Y'hah
Ya Ygorl-nyth stell'bsna s'uhn hai
Y'hah
My teeth clicked like staccatos as the oceans damp and cold took its toll on me. Exhausted my muscles ached from their enforced stillness and yet I persevered. Had the summoning worked or was this all just some futile exercise of my fever driven imagination? I gazed out over the inky waters of the bay straining my eyes scanning for any sign. It was velvet darkness as silent as a tomb when suddenly the smallest glimmer of oddly hued light manifested.
From the oceans depths a bruised stain of illumination oozed lethargically out. A shimmering nimbus of flickering sparkles, a kaleidoscope of impossible colours. It was a dizzying array of radiance that sickened me to stare at. With a wet febrile tear three vermicular strands tore free of the radiant mass and languidly inched forward towards the men. Heavy damp misty tendrils crept over the prone pirates tenderly enveloping them into its grasp. A spiders-web of smoke cocooned the three in a coruscating glimmering haze. Red-green-blue each mist-enveloped form shimmered in spasmodic bursts of illumination with each pulse more blinding brilliance than the last until with a final blinding burst of cerulean radiance, darkness once more. Only one man remained basked in a dim afterglow of azure light. The others, gone taken by the mist, consumed … simply vanished into the light.
One last task remained. As from my dreams I knelt beside the prone form and from the jangling collage of shells about my neck snapped off a thin sliver. Fingers trembling I set down the bone sliver upon the man’s forehead. Twisting writhing the shell fragment slithered along the man’s forehead, crawling as if a worm upon a branch. With one final lurching motion the needle sharp shell slipped beneath the skin leaving only a small red droplet as witness to its very existence.
Slumping I slid down beside the comatose man shivering with exhaustion. Only vestiges of a lingering blue aura could be seen now. The man was weak now but in time his/its strength would return. Even now subtle changes had commenced; thin batrachian webbing between his fingers a profusion of warts developing on the back of his hand. The first of many changes, changes for us both.