Eparkhos
Well-known member
The desert sand and the night wind were cold against her burning skin. It had been worse than usual, a harder run over worse ground, and her lungs burned for air with each short, sharp pant, but she couldn’t risk breathing now. Couldn’t risk any noise, not anything. She lay crumpled at the bottom of the dune, doing all she could to lay as still and silent as death.
The wind rustled the sand around her but everything else was silent. No, there was a distant pounding, thunder--no, it was a clear sky--hooves? She pressed herself down in the sand, the scrape of cloth on sand the loudest sound on earth. The pounding grew louder, sounding heavier, like a giant stomping just over the hill, almost coming closer. Under her breath, still trying to choke down air, she began to pray. It exploded into a deafening loudness, daggers of pain shooting in her ears, and it was all around her now, infernally loud, crashing up and down, burning and echoing off the sand, every instinct burning to get up and run, now, now, before it found her, but she forced herself further down against the sand, ears and eyes burning, the sand scratching at her, the world exploding above her, shaking her, filling everything and--
Nothing.
The silence was sudden, the noise still echoing in her ears with the thud-thud-thud-thud- thud of her heartbeat, and then it was as surrounding and as loud as the noise had been. She lay there for what felt like an eternity, breath still high and hitched, staring up at the bright white stars above.
Roll over, she told herself, get over on your stomach so you can run or fight--fight what? Whatever had just done that? She might as well be dead already. Still, any chance was better than none, and she peeled her arms off the sand, feeling as weak and heavy as unfired clay, and rolled over onto her stomach.
The moon was full and bright, casting the desert in soft blue light. The dune was a half-crescent, falling into a flat trench that stretched away on either side as far as she could see. The sand was powder-soft, crunching softly under her with each breath--it had been skittish under her while she was running, nearly pitching her over. There was a sudden pit in her stomach as she realized her trail would lead whatever it had been straight toward her.
Or had it? The night was bright, but it was still midnight, and a single trail through the desert might have faded amidst the endless waves of dunes, especially considering what she’d been running from. One set of tracks might be missed. Might have. She lay there in the half-light, thinking, trying desperately not to think of what could have made that noise. She had spent her girlhood on the edge of the desert, and knew well the countless legends of great beasts within the sands, snakes as broad as the Gabanaha during flood, scorpions that paralyzed and then ate alive, and the all-too-real Sishenarya…
The lip of the dune loomed up above her like a cliff. She had to see, had to see if she’d left a trail, had to see if she’d gotten away, had to see whatever had made the noise. One hand snaked forward, pushed down into the sand, freezing in the cold, and she dragged herself upward. The sound of cloth on sand was deafening.
The desert spread out before her, a thin sliver of dark blue horizon cut by countless dunes. The wind blew about her, cold and harsh, but otherwise there was only silence. Her trail ran down the far side, a sloughing funnel of spilt sand, and she was tempted to try and sweep it away. That would be a fool’s errand, though, she’d run too far. She straightened up and scanned her surroundings, shadows bleeding into shadows in the moonlight. It was far too empty, like a predator lying in wait, an expanse just waiting to consumer her within itself--
“Ueh!”
The sand slid an instant before and she launched herself forward, crashing and tumbling down the dune. Her head whipped around and there it was, the Sishenary looming atop the rise, tall, a giant, its armor dunned, face a mask of shadows but spear gleaming like a star against the black of the night. Her feet found solid ground and she was up and running, charging up the slope, and it was after her, crashing behind her, all stealth discarded. She staggered up the far dune, which seemed to stretch away to infinity beneath her, and then she was up and over the top, plunging back down into the valley. There was a piercing shriek behind her but she kept going, making it to the next peak before a bright flash caught her eye.
The Sishenary stood frozen mid-stride on the ridge behind her, spear raised above its head, poised for the kill. It screamed again, a string of words in some terrible, indecipherable language, and a pale golden light flashed again, pulsing, a sheet of dark gold liquid creeping up its leg. It thrashed, other leg kicking at the sand, and then the golden film hit its knee and it screamed, voice raw and agonized, and the spear flashed as it drove it into the glowing foot. It staggered, almost hovering for a moment, then toppled and fell into the sand, its leg standing straight up like it were made of stone and the rest of it sprawled across the sand. It looked up and they made eye contact. His eyes were wine-dark, full of terror and confusion and rage. The gold light spread further up its leg and he began to wail incoherently, words garbling into a wordless torrent of pain.
Then there was silence.
She stood still, the last minute barely existing, barely realizing what had happened, then began to stagger back. It was good that it--he-- was dead, but what-- what in the names of the gods was the glowing light? It shone, shimmering like waves of heat, the most intense color she’d ever seen. She was suddenly cold, and her stomach was a torn heap, she had to go, she had to run, she had to--
Her feet suddenly buzzed. Was this how it started? Wait, no, it was the sand that was moving, shaking back and forth like flour in a pan, rising over the top of her boots, like a thousand hopping insects. Then the wind roared, cold as bronze, snatching at her robes, and the earth trembled beneath her feet. She stumbled back, legs shaking, burning with pain, and then there was a great roar and a crash that rattled the world, like all the heavens had come crashing down, and the air exploded into the crashing pounding of before, only a thousand times louder, drowning out existence until it was everything, her vision whirling and blurring around her, the wind whipping and screaming around her, the air a darkening haze of dust, death, this could only be what death was, whatever had killed the Sishenary had come for her.
She collapsed, falling backward into the sand, which was suddenly hard beneath her. Her arms shook, spasming without her control, and the world was spinning, streaking above her head. The sky was suddenly a glowing blue, blue and black, the bluest blue and the darkest black that she’d ever seen, all at the same time, and the white gleam of the stars was darkening, changing, ten thousand points of shining gold hanging in the night sky, ten thousand bright burning eyes. Her skin erupted in pain and she screamed, her back and legs afire, rising up and spreading over her skin, thick and heavy grease that was the same blue-black as the sky. She thrashed, then realized her limbs had gone numb, then her gut, then her chest, then her throat--
Almost by reflex she choked out a last cry, a feeble ‘Damash!’, praying that the king of the gods might see her and have mercy, a swift death at the least, but still she fought, shaking weakly, trying, trying, to live.
Then the wind changed, the high whistle deeping into the deepest sound she had ever heard, a roar that seemed to crush and shake existence itself.
“NO!” the wind roared.
“I AM!”
And then there was nothing.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Thoughts?
The wind rustled the sand around her but everything else was silent. No, there was a distant pounding, thunder--no, it was a clear sky--hooves? She pressed herself down in the sand, the scrape of cloth on sand the loudest sound on earth. The pounding grew louder, sounding heavier, like a giant stomping just over the hill, almost coming closer. Under her breath, still trying to choke down air, she began to pray. It exploded into a deafening loudness, daggers of pain shooting in her ears, and it was all around her now, infernally loud, crashing up and down, burning and echoing off the sand, every instinct burning to get up and run, now, now, before it found her, but she forced herself further down against the sand, ears and eyes burning, the sand scratching at her, the world exploding above her, shaking her, filling everything and--
Nothing.
The silence was sudden, the noise still echoing in her ears with the thud-thud-thud-thud- thud of her heartbeat, and then it was as surrounding and as loud as the noise had been. She lay there for what felt like an eternity, breath still high and hitched, staring up at the bright white stars above.
Roll over, she told herself, get over on your stomach so you can run or fight--fight what? Whatever had just done that? She might as well be dead already. Still, any chance was better than none, and she peeled her arms off the sand, feeling as weak and heavy as unfired clay, and rolled over onto her stomach.
The moon was full and bright, casting the desert in soft blue light. The dune was a half-crescent, falling into a flat trench that stretched away on either side as far as she could see. The sand was powder-soft, crunching softly under her with each breath--it had been skittish under her while she was running, nearly pitching her over. There was a sudden pit in her stomach as she realized her trail would lead whatever it had been straight toward her.
Or had it? The night was bright, but it was still midnight, and a single trail through the desert might have faded amidst the endless waves of dunes, especially considering what she’d been running from. One set of tracks might be missed. Might have. She lay there in the half-light, thinking, trying desperately not to think of what could have made that noise. She had spent her girlhood on the edge of the desert, and knew well the countless legends of great beasts within the sands, snakes as broad as the Gabanaha during flood, scorpions that paralyzed and then ate alive, and the all-too-real Sishenarya…
The lip of the dune loomed up above her like a cliff. She had to see, had to see if she’d left a trail, had to see if she’d gotten away, had to see whatever had made the noise. One hand snaked forward, pushed down into the sand, freezing in the cold, and she dragged herself upward. The sound of cloth on sand was deafening.
The desert spread out before her, a thin sliver of dark blue horizon cut by countless dunes. The wind blew about her, cold and harsh, but otherwise there was only silence. Her trail ran down the far side, a sloughing funnel of spilt sand, and she was tempted to try and sweep it away. That would be a fool’s errand, though, she’d run too far. She straightened up and scanned her surroundings, shadows bleeding into shadows in the moonlight. It was far too empty, like a predator lying in wait, an expanse just waiting to consumer her within itself--
“Ueh!”
The sand slid an instant before and she launched herself forward, crashing and tumbling down the dune. Her head whipped around and there it was, the Sishenary looming atop the rise, tall, a giant, its armor dunned, face a mask of shadows but spear gleaming like a star against the black of the night. Her feet found solid ground and she was up and running, charging up the slope, and it was after her, crashing behind her, all stealth discarded. She staggered up the far dune, which seemed to stretch away to infinity beneath her, and then she was up and over the top, plunging back down into the valley. There was a piercing shriek behind her but she kept going, making it to the next peak before a bright flash caught her eye.
The Sishenary stood frozen mid-stride on the ridge behind her, spear raised above its head, poised for the kill. It screamed again, a string of words in some terrible, indecipherable language, and a pale golden light flashed again, pulsing, a sheet of dark gold liquid creeping up its leg. It thrashed, other leg kicking at the sand, and then the golden film hit its knee and it screamed, voice raw and agonized, and the spear flashed as it drove it into the glowing foot. It staggered, almost hovering for a moment, then toppled and fell into the sand, its leg standing straight up like it were made of stone and the rest of it sprawled across the sand. It looked up and they made eye contact. His eyes were wine-dark, full of terror and confusion and rage. The gold light spread further up its leg and he began to wail incoherently, words garbling into a wordless torrent of pain.
Then there was silence.
She stood still, the last minute barely existing, barely realizing what had happened, then began to stagger back. It was good that it--he-- was dead, but what-- what in the names of the gods was the glowing light? It shone, shimmering like waves of heat, the most intense color she’d ever seen. She was suddenly cold, and her stomach was a torn heap, she had to go, she had to run, she had to--
Her feet suddenly buzzed. Was this how it started? Wait, no, it was the sand that was moving, shaking back and forth like flour in a pan, rising over the top of her boots, like a thousand hopping insects. Then the wind roared, cold as bronze, snatching at her robes, and the earth trembled beneath her feet. She stumbled back, legs shaking, burning with pain, and then there was a great roar and a crash that rattled the world, like all the heavens had come crashing down, and the air exploded into the crashing pounding of before, only a thousand times louder, drowning out existence until it was everything, her vision whirling and blurring around her, the wind whipping and screaming around her, the air a darkening haze of dust, death, this could only be what death was, whatever had killed the Sishenary had come for her.
She collapsed, falling backward into the sand, which was suddenly hard beneath her. Her arms shook, spasming without her control, and the world was spinning, streaking above her head. The sky was suddenly a glowing blue, blue and black, the bluest blue and the darkest black that she’d ever seen, all at the same time, and the white gleam of the stars was darkening, changing, ten thousand points of shining gold hanging in the night sky, ten thousand bright burning eyes. Her skin erupted in pain and she screamed, her back and legs afire, rising up and spreading over her skin, thick and heavy grease that was the same blue-black as the sky. She thrashed, then realized her limbs had gone numb, then her gut, then her chest, then her throat--
Almost by reflex she choked out a last cry, a feeble ‘Damash!’, praying that the king of the gods might see her and have mercy, a swift death at the least, but still she fought, shaking weakly, trying, trying, to live.
Then the wind changed, the high whistle deeping into the deepest sound she had ever heard, a roar that seemed to crush and shake existence itself.
“NO!” the wind roared.
“I AM!”
And then there was nothing.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Thoughts?
