8 year before the summerlight gathering on Bellessa
He lay on the ground, his breathing ragged, his muscles beyond sore and his head feeling as if it were going to burst. He sat up and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. He tried to clear his mind, to calm his fear. He looked down at his hands covered in dirt from his recent fall and dried blood from a more distant one. After a moment his blurred surroundings became clear. He could hear the sounds of The Wolf Wood, smell the humidity and feel the living heat around him, though he could not see the forest for the trees. He got back to his feet and began running again, desperate for escape. He could see the light from where the tree line broke, if only he could make it…he had to make it…he must escape this place.
He ran nonstop for hours and just as he had given up hope the tree line broke and before him was a man surrounded by enemies. He could only watch in terror and shame as the man fell struck by a spear to the side. He reached a hand up to his own side, pulling it back covered in thick warm blood. No, not again.
Desperate, he tried to call out a warning but he was too late. He was always too late. One of the attackers lifted their spear to put an end to the wounded man but before he could, cold blue lightning shot from the tips of the man's fingers killing the faceless attackers. He tried to turn away but no matter what direction he looked he could not escape watching them die screaming. Finally he looked down at his hands once more, the tips of his fingers billowed smoke and he knew he had to get away, had to run as fast as he could.
He took off running back through the trees, toward the clearing only to find himself watching the same scene over and over again.
Declan Osbourne woke from a dream so familiar it may have been memory. His breath came to him in ragged spurts that caught in the top of his chest, leaving him pained and panicked as if he were still in The Wolf's Wood, still powerless. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and moments longer for his mind. No he were no longer trapped in his nightmare, no longer powerless in the forest but he was still trapped, still powerless.
The familiar trappings of his cell came into focus through eyes designed to see in the dark. Ten feet by ten feet the duracrete room was empty apart from the bunk bed on which he slept and the hole in the floor for him to chit in. The windowless underground cell was silent apart from the soft sounds of breathing below him from Declan's bunkmate who was asleep peacefully.
Declan tried to swing his legs over the side of his bunk as he has done thousands of times before and found he could not move. Not just his legs but any part of him, he could not turn his head or open his mouth to cry out for help, his heart began to race and panic settled over him again like fresh fallen snow.
There was a pressure, a weight suddenly upon him and in his field of vision in the void dark room was a woman. He could feel her hands pressing into his chest and her hips on his as she straddled his prone body.
She wore a hood with dark tattoos on her chin. She was beautiful and terrible and he lusted for her as strongly as he was repulsed by her.
"Tími fyrir nrýr dream, Durinson." She said in a voice as deep and seductive as velvet.
She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips.
Declan Osbourne woke in his dark cell full of fear.
He lay on the ground, his breathing ragged, his muscles beyond sore and his head feeling as if it were going to burst. He sat up and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. He tried to clear his mind, to calm his fear. He looked down at his hands covered in dirt from his recent fall and dried blood from a more distant one. After a moment his blurred surroundings became clear. He could hear the sounds of The Wolf Wood, smell the humidity and feel the living heat around him, though he could not see the forest for the trees. He got back to his feet and began running again, desperate for escape. He could see the light from where the tree line broke, if only he could make it…he had to make it…he must escape this place.
He ran nonstop for hours and just as he had given up hope the tree line broke and before him was a man surrounded by enemies. He could only watch in terror and shame as the man fell struck by a spear to the side. He reached a hand up to his own side, pulling it back covered in thick warm blood. No, not again.
Desperate, he tried to call out a warning but he was too late. He was always too late. One of the attackers lifted their spear to put an end to the wounded man but before he could, cold blue lightning shot from the tips of the man's fingers killing the faceless attackers. He tried to turn away but no matter what direction he looked he could not escape watching them die screaming. Finally he looked down at his hands once more, the tips of his fingers billowed smoke and he knew he had to get away, had to run as fast as he could.
He took off running back through the trees, toward the clearing only to find himself watching the same scene over and over again.
Declan Osbourne woke from a dream so familiar it may have been memory. His breath came to him in ragged spurts that caught in the top of his chest, leaving him pained and panicked as if he were still in The Wolf's Wood, still powerless. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and moments longer for his mind. No he were no longer trapped in his nightmare, no longer powerless in the forest but he was still trapped, still powerless.
The familiar trappings of his cell came into focus through eyes designed to see in the dark. Ten feet by ten feet the duracrete room was empty apart from the bunk bed on which he slept and the hole in the floor for him to chit in. The windowless underground cell was silent apart from the soft sounds of breathing below him from Declan's bunkmate who was asleep peacefully.
Declan tried to swing his legs over the side of his bunk as he has done thousands of times before and found he could not move. Not just his legs but any part of him, he could not turn his head or open his mouth to cry out for help, his heart began to race and panic settled over him again like fresh fallen snow.
There was a pressure, a weight suddenly upon him and in his field of vision in the void dark room was a woman. He could feel her hands pressing into his chest and her hips on his as she straddled his prone body.
She wore a hood with dark tattoos on her chin. She was beautiful and terrible and he lusted for her as strongly as he was repulsed by her.
"Tími fyrir nrýr dream, Durinson." She said in a voice as deep and seductive as velvet.
She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips.
Declan Osbourne woke in his dark cell full of fear.
