The last Nightmare of Gwydion the Quick Jun 2, 2017 8:30:47 GMT -5
Post by spyd3r97344 on Jun 2, 2017 8:30:47 GMT -5
Gwydion plummeted through an endless midnight sky. Around him lightning streaked silently through the void. Nothing could stop his fall. Ever. He opened his mouth to scream, but like the lightning, he, too, was mute. . . .
The weight of the damp earth pressed down on Gwydion. He tried to move his arms, but couldn't. He wasn't paralyzed; his fingers could flex a little, just enough to feel the coarse loam packed around him, the worms and slugs crawling through the ground. They'd buried him alive! Gwydion struggled, but but that made it worse, brought the earth down like a giant's fist. Then the tiny carrion beetles arrived hundreds and hundreds of them. . . .
From atop a high tower, Gwydion watched the sun rise in an azure sky over the peaceful city of Suzail. He hadn't slept well the night before, but such were the burdens of his title. In the streets below, merchants threw open their shops to the women and men out to buy their day's supplies. Soldiers, Purple Dragon Knights from his old regiment, patrolled the crowded alleyways, though their presence wasn't really needed, not since Gwydion had become monarch of the rich and expansive kingdom. Children filled the parks and boulevards with their happy cries, their shouted games - until the shadow passed over the sun.
Dendar filled the sky, her dark scales turning the day to night. She rose, bloated with the world's nightmares, and swallowed the sun. The laughter and bustling cheer of the city turned to scream of terror. The cool spring breezes became the chill of eternal winter. Ice covered the harbor, splintering the ships like tinder. It spread over the land. Gwydion tried to shout a warning, but it was no use; the men and women and children were overcome, dark shapes trapped in the blanket of silver-white ice.
As the killing frost scaled the high tower walls, Gwydion heard Dendar laugh, her sibilant voice carried on the wind blowing over the dead world. "The last nightmare to feed me was your'se. . . ." - Night serpent
-- Exert from "Prince of Lies" by James Lowder.