Page 37
Story: What Blooms from Death
As much as I disliked agreeing with him, I instinctively turned my magical sight back toward the gateway and nodded. “It’s like we’ve triggered an alarm. Something really didn’t want us to cross. I can’t explain it, but…”
My words trailed off and my body tensed at the sound of a low hiss echoing through the air, growing louder as the seconds passed. I held tight to my red-beaded bracelet while my companions exchanged worried looks. No one spoke right away. We scarcely dared to breathe.
“…That spell was powerful.” I ran my fingers through Phantom’s cold fur, trying to hide the way my hand shook. “There’s a very good chance that whatever created it has been staying nearby, working to maintain it.”
“Should we go back?” Elias asked.
The other soldiers—Rowen and Farren—whispered between themselves, wondering the same thing. One by one, the three of them looked to their king.
“We aren’t going back.” Alexander’s tone was grimly stoic. “But we should get away from this wall and find cover somewhere. Lay low for a moment while we feel the area out and decide our next steps.”
No one argued. We followed a small trickle of a stream with cloudy water until it led us into a clutch of spindly, leafless trees that provided some measure of cover. Here, we laid our packs down along a flat, sandy stretch of ground and quietly discussed our options.
After a few minutes, Aleksander knelt by the stream, fingertips skimming the water.
I watched—mesmerized against my will—as that water swirled and brightened beneath his touch. When it settled, a perfectly clear, purified section of stream flowed before him.
He didn’t look up at me as he refilled his canteen and several others, but I could see his arrogant smile reflected in the stream as he said, “It’s okay to be impressed.”
I briefly considered darkening the cleared water with my shadows just because I could. Petty? Yes. A waste of magic? Also yes.
But gods, Ihatedthat smirk.
I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, and then walked away without replying, announcing that I would keep watch so the others could rest.
I brought Elias along with me; he still seemed in danger of slipping back into a daze if left unattended. I tried to make small talk with him to keep him awake—something I’d never been particularly good at, which proved even more difficult than usual with my all of my nerves on edge.
I eventually gave up on trying to talk, instead stationing him at the top of the hill sloping into our resting spot while I patrolled a wider perimeter. Phantom accompanied me on this patrol, at first, but after an hour or so he grew bored and took to entertaining himself by digging holes and burying various objects in them. When I inquired as to what he could possibly be storing in the dirt here, I received only a haughty reply that it was his business, not mine.
Very serious dog business, apparently.
I continued minding my own, and I occasionally heard the same low hiss in the wind that we’d heard near the wall.
Eventually, I gathered my courage and walked back toward that wall, scanning the area for any sign of where the ominous noise might have been originating from.
I never found anything—yet I remained convinced something was there. A feeling in my gut, tightening with every strange sound or flicker in the lighting. It was more unsettling than facing a monster outright, to be able tosenseit but notseeit.
Our break was over, I decided; it was time to pick a direction and keep moving.
I made my way back to the others, preparing to rally them for an onward march. Elias had his back to me as I approached—staring at our temporary camp rather than watching for threats approaching it.
“Some lookout he is,” I muttered, picking up my pace.
As I reached him, though, I slowed to a stop. His eyes were glazed over. He was mumbling words that didn’t sound like any tongue I recognized from the living world. And no matter how I shook him, or how loudly I called his name, he didn’t reply.
A troubling thought—a possible explanation—struck me. Though I was afraid to test my theory, I reached a trembling hand toward him, giving my red-beaded bracelet a shake, bracing myself to channel magic through it once more.
The enhanced Sight fell over my eyes, revealing threads of silvery-black entwining Elias—threads the same color as the spell that had tried to prevent our crossing the wall. They clung so tightly to him in places that it was hard to see where they ended and he began; and they seemed to be sinking more deeply into his energy, changing its color as I watched.
They made it back, but they were never the same.
Was this the same spell that had infected the last ones who’d crossed the wall, leading them to madness and eventual suicide?
“Elias,” I said, as calmly as I could, “let’s go back to the others.”
“The shadows know we’re here. They know where we’ve gone. Where we’re going. We should return to them—no one escapes them, in the end.”
“…What the hell are you talking about?”
My words trailed off and my body tensed at the sound of a low hiss echoing through the air, growing louder as the seconds passed. I held tight to my red-beaded bracelet while my companions exchanged worried looks. No one spoke right away. We scarcely dared to breathe.
“…That spell was powerful.” I ran my fingers through Phantom’s cold fur, trying to hide the way my hand shook. “There’s a very good chance that whatever created it has been staying nearby, working to maintain it.”
“Should we go back?” Elias asked.
The other soldiers—Rowen and Farren—whispered between themselves, wondering the same thing. One by one, the three of them looked to their king.
“We aren’t going back.” Alexander’s tone was grimly stoic. “But we should get away from this wall and find cover somewhere. Lay low for a moment while we feel the area out and decide our next steps.”
No one argued. We followed a small trickle of a stream with cloudy water until it led us into a clutch of spindly, leafless trees that provided some measure of cover. Here, we laid our packs down along a flat, sandy stretch of ground and quietly discussed our options.
After a few minutes, Aleksander knelt by the stream, fingertips skimming the water.
I watched—mesmerized against my will—as that water swirled and brightened beneath his touch. When it settled, a perfectly clear, purified section of stream flowed before him.
He didn’t look up at me as he refilled his canteen and several others, but I could see his arrogant smile reflected in the stream as he said, “It’s okay to be impressed.”
I briefly considered darkening the cleared water with my shadows just because I could. Petty? Yes. A waste of magic? Also yes.
But gods, Ihatedthat smirk.
I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, and then walked away without replying, announcing that I would keep watch so the others could rest.
I brought Elias along with me; he still seemed in danger of slipping back into a daze if left unattended. I tried to make small talk with him to keep him awake—something I’d never been particularly good at, which proved even more difficult than usual with my all of my nerves on edge.
I eventually gave up on trying to talk, instead stationing him at the top of the hill sloping into our resting spot while I patrolled a wider perimeter. Phantom accompanied me on this patrol, at first, but after an hour or so he grew bored and took to entertaining himself by digging holes and burying various objects in them. When I inquired as to what he could possibly be storing in the dirt here, I received only a haughty reply that it was his business, not mine.
Very serious dog business, apparently.
I continued minding my own, and I occasionally heard the same low hiss in the wind that we’d heard near the wall.
Eventually, I gathered my courage and walked back toward that wall, scanning the area for any sign of where the ominous noise might have been originating from.
I never found anything—yet I remained convinced something was there. A feeling in my gut, tightening with every strange sound or flicker in the lighting. It was more unsettling than facing a monster outright, to be able tosenseit but notseeit.
Our break was over, I decided; it was time to pick a direction and keep moving.
I made my way back to the others, preparing to rally them for an onward march. Elias had his back to me as I approached—staring at our temporary camp rather than watching for threats approaching it.
“Some lookout he is,” I muttered, picking up my pace.
As I reached him, though, I slowed to a stop. His eyes were glazed over. He was mumbling words that didn’t sound like any tongue I recognized from the living world. And no matter how I shook him, or how loudly I called his name, he didn’t reply.
A troubling thought—a possible explanation—struck me. Though I was afraid to test my theory, I reached a trembling hand toward him, giving my red-beaded bracelet a shake, bracing myself to channel magic through it once more.
The enhanced Sight fell over my eyes, revealing threads of silvery-black entwining Elias—threads the same color as the spell that had tried to prevent our crossing the wall. They clung so tightly to him in places that it was hard to see where they ended and he began; and they seemed to be sinking more deeply into his energy, changing its color as I watched.
They made it back, but they were never the same.
Was this the same spell that had infected the last ones who’d crossed the wall, leading them to madness and eventual suicide?
“Elias,” I said, as calmly as I could, “let’s go back to the others.”
“The shadows know we’re here. They know where we’ve gone. Where we’re going. We should return to them—no one escapes them, in the end.”
“…What the hell are you talking about?”
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