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iforiaetxrisi-blog · 8 years ago

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maelstroms chain chapter one (part two)

THE DEADLANDS

“Artie,” Alisa began and she was using that voice he was so well acquainted with. It was the one that said she had a terrible idea and was about to persuade him to join in. Artemios waited, forever patient. They were sat upon a rock on the pebbled edge of the beach. It smelled of salt and sea water and the sun baked them. A cloud passed overhead to give them a reprieve and a shadow cast over them. “I say we run away.”

The announcement caught him off guard. He was thinking she was going to say something like terrorize the beach goers on the other end. Artemios looked over at her, brow arched, hands raised to respond. She stared back at him, expression severe as if she were contemplating big moves with even bigger consequences. The cloud passed. The sunlight burst upon them once more. Alisa's face spread into a smile and Artemios had never seen her so beautiful. A smile responded on his face. He was about to respond when he remembered, this had not happened like this. The smile faded in bitter degrees before becoming a pale imitation and lingering. His hands fell.

“You know we can't do that,” he said with a voice he hadn't been able to use in years. The smile still lingered, sad. He stood up from his seated position and she followed suit, watching him with the same mirror expression.

“No. I guess we can't.” Alisa closed the distance between them and the kiss she pressed to his forehead was cold. Artemios closed his eyes as her hands settled upon his shoulders. “Wake up, Artemios.”

He felt a hard shove and then he was falling, eyes opening at the last second to see her. Right behind her, stood Solnaer. Artemios fell. He gasped as the freezing water rose up to meet him and

He screamed awake, but no sound came from his throat. The mud sucked at his clothes. His cheek was pressed into the ground, something hard pressed into the soft flesh. Artemios scrambled to his knees, splashing puddles of black water and dirt around him as he did so. He knelt there breathing hard. His heart was lodged in his throat and he looked around wildly. It was still pitch black, and it was still raining. The Leesch was gone. He shivered hard. The tattered remains of his clothes hung from him, caked with black mud and blood. There was a dull pulse in his limbs and a sharp knife in his side, but he was whole and alive.

He felt magic at his fingertips. With death came renewed strength as his body was momentarily given a reprieve. But this was only temporary. The Eternity Spirit was still depleted, and reanimation took its toll. If he couldn't eat or rest in a few hours, Artemios might find himself right back where he started. He listened for the leesch. The grinding noise was absent. The crashing patter of rain was the only sound. Artemios hissed, trembling as he struggled to his feet. Wide eyes darted every which way, like the lowest prey waiting to be snatched up by the talons of a bird. Out in the pitch blackness of the deadlands, he was exposed and at their mercy. He looked back the way he came, or at least the way he thought he had come, and could see nothing. Artemios stretched a hand out and called on magic to draw a bright orb of electricity to his palm. It brightened his surroundings, of which there was nothing. There was no road, no track to follow, nothing to tell him he was going in the right direction.

If he reached out to find Enleis, they would awaken again. They would feel the change in the atmosphere, and realize that someone had been left above their dark resting place. Artemios couldn't risk it. In his current state he was nothing to them. He would be dead again before he knew it. He should have stayed in the cave. He would have had more time. Artemios shook water out of his face. He was just kidding himself, really. The leesch were always coming and would always find him eventually. That one had just been waiting for the right moment, and it would be back. He had to get a move on.

Electricity danced on his fingertips as he carefully made his way forward. He sensed something ahead, though whether it was danger or something else he couldn't be sure. It was almost always danger. There was nothing on Praxon but him, the leesch and the dead. Artemios struggled over slo hills and rough terrain, hardly able to see beyond a few steps in front of him. There were noises in the darkness. Rocks crumbling, hissing, the gnashing of teeth and a faint, wretched scraping that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He let the electricity go out. The rumble of thunder overhead announced lightning. Artemios raced toward the nearest boulder and crouched, peeking around it. Lightning flashed and lit up the whole sky. He saw the second of landscape. It stretched out before him like an endless sea of blackness in the distance. Hills rose up and down and he saw not a single sign of whatever Enleis had been talking about. Thunder rumbled. Lightning struck again.

Artemios did another quick sweep in the second that the light was bright enough. Off to the west, he saw the shape of what looked like a house. He squinted in the blackness, but only when another strike came down did he get a real glimpse. It was a rickety old thing, that might have been more skeleton than house. Artemios was desperate for anything. He just needed somewhere he could recharge. And everything was placed before him for a reason. There was nothing in this wasted world that wasn't somehow manipulated by Solnaer's will. That was how everything was now, and had been since the vadya had been released from his prison. That, too, like everything else, was on Artemios' shoulders. He sucked in a deep breath, ignored the dragging exhaustion of his limbs and ran.

Water and mud splashed up against his already soggy jeans. His boots squelched with every step. His hair slipped into his face and blinded him. He slipped on mud, tripped on rocks, but didn't fall. Around him, the shadows lurched and yellow eyes snapped open, only to close groggily seconds later. The lightning continued to dance across the sky at random intervals. Artemios never lost sight of the silhouette of his derelict hope. If he reached it, he could believe in Enleis. If he reached it, he could believe that they would end this near-permanent darkness and see the purple sky again. And yet, every step he took forward, it felt as if the silhouette grew farther away.

He imagined Hayle beside him again. He remembered the last time they had seen each other, running through a tunnel toward danger. The world had been falling apart then, but the people were still fighting. They were still making plans and trying to mend the wrongs they had done to both planet and each other. But there had been little they could do things. It had been the beginning of the end. Hayle didn't live to see it. Artemios remembered the grin on his face, though. He had always been grinning; even in the face of death because he believed that wasn't the end. People the world over said 'Move on to the Next Life'. There was nothing ending about it. Artemios never cared for such semantics. But Hayle with his grin and eternal optimism made him believe. He had promised he would always keep believing. So he imagined him beside him now, dressed in his military gear from head to toe, his voice in his ear: “Don't worry, Artie! We're gonna make it no matter what.”

It loomed over him. The lightning flashed and the shadow of its presence seemed ominous now that he was tripping over the porch steps. Artemios almost fell then. The mirage of Hayle's figure faded in his mind and he remembered the real words again: “I'll see you in the Next Life, Artemios. Lichiou lomata!” Artemios shoved open the wooden door and fled the rain.

He was hit with the stench of mold and dust. He tried the light switch without expectation and was unsurprised to remain in the darkness. The leesch wouldn't come in here. He had some time before anything would attempt to attack him. It was some kind of unwritten law of the world that he was given time before the next calamity came to claim his life. And the Leesch didn't like the indoors nearly as much as their outside dwellings. He thought of reaching his hand out and bringing light to the darkness. Instead, he sagged against the door, ignoring the creak it gave under his weight and sunk to the damp floorboards. His body ached like one massive pulsing wound and for the first time in years he cried. He cried until he no longer could and passed out.

IN HIS DREAMS the world was beautiful. The purple skies watched over them and the two suns shined down and the clouds came and went like any world of changing weather. In his dreams, Hayle and Enleis were alive, and Alisa was always by his side. But he didn't always have dreams. Hayle and Enleis always died. Alisa always left with Solnaer. He did not get a reprieve for very long. The darkness loomed over him, the Eternity Spirit always reminded him—that his dreams no longer existed, and the world he once knew was gone. And yet, he always fell into them, and there she was holding out her hand with a smirk on her face. Alisa had never been without that expression from the moment he had met her.

“Race me, Artie.” Alisa grinned, turning away from him on the beach of their childhood. Artemios held a shell in one hand, a red pail in the other. He stared at her, slightly incredulous.

“But what about the seashells?” Artemios asked, holding up the pail as he did so. She giggled, shrugged, tied her black hair back with a ribbon.

“What about'em?” And she was off ahead of him, her bare feet making deep tracks in the wet sand. Artemios shouted after her—because she was a cheater and she always was a cheater—and darted after her. He dropped the pail, the shells scattered everywhere and he chased after the tail of her yellow dress. The ribbon floated behind her and caught the shine of the twin suns. Artemios reached out to grab it, and then tugged. She tumbled backward, her mouth a big O of surprise. Her eyes were deep green saucers. She fell on her back, and the sand sucked at her arms and her hair and she cursed with laughter. Artemios continued running, sticking his tongue out after her. A ditch caught his foot and he fell forward, his face making a wet smack against the sand.

“Serves ya right, Artie!” Alisa shouted. A cold foot pressed to his shoulder and she shoved him harder into the sand. “I'm queen of the beach, Artie. You're just my subject, and not even a loyal one at that!”

Artemios peeked up at her between his bangs, and shoved her foot off as he rose to his knees. “Laurs doesn't even got a Queen, Ali.”

“So? Alsales does, and so does Ebia.” Alisa shrugged. “And I said Queen of the Beach. This beach right here. It's mine now, so it's not Laurs and so it doesn't count.”

Artemios snorted. “Alright Queen Alisa. How are you gonna convince everyone else of that?”

Alisa waved an index finger in the air as she thought. Her lips pursed and she looked off out at the purple sea. Artemios looked out with her, and saw the dark clouds rolling in. He felt Alisa behind him, and suddenly he was no longer a child, suddenly he was in his ragged jeans and red jacket.

“Well. I'll just make it so. If I can warp time and space...can I not too, change the world so they see me as queen?”

“Th..tt...” Artemios tried to speak and his voice failed. The clouds rolled in closer, obscuring the sky and even though he knew once they had raced each other on the beach, this was the reminder that he could never go back to that time again. Artemios turned to Alisa, but did not rise. She stared down at him, her expression impassive. And behind her he saw Solnaer, a silent smirk on his face and his red eyes a pair of blazing stones.

That's not what you want. You never wanted to become Queen.

“No. You're right.” Alisa smiled, and it was sad. Artemios wanted nothing more than to wipe it from her face, but he couldn't. This was their fate. This was how it would always be. He didn't understand why he knew that in his bones, but the feeling was there. “I don't want any of this, Artemios. But I have no choice. This is how it must be.”

I don't understand, why won't you tell me. Why won't you give me the real reason?

Alisa turned away again. Artemios rose from the ground. The lush forest behind them was a barren landscape of dead trees. The blackness was descending. A harsh wind blew and all Artemios smelled was burning corpses. It stung his eyes and he felt sick.

“You'll understand before the end, my dearest.” Alisa continued forward toward Solnaer and he stretched out his hand for her to take. Artemios felt the anger surge up in him and he ran. He ran harder than he ever had in his life, and electricity arced from his finger tips, from his fist. Every part of him was screaming. If he could just hit him this once. If he could just hurt him like he had hurt everyone in the entire world. Solnaer was an immobile figure and Artemios was certain he could get him this one time. Suddenly, Solnaer's hand swung up to take Artemios' fist. The electricity stormed through the vajya like nothing. His other hand came up to crush Artemios' throat and Artemios struggled, clawing at the hand. His lungs were burning, and he couldn't get enough air. He couldn't believe that the power didn't do a thing. Solnaer would always be too strong. He was the black hole that destroyed the world, that kill his father and his friends and turned his soul mate against him. An awful grin spread across Solnaer's face and he drew Artemios close.

“Rebirth, do not think for one second that you can defeat me the way you are now. You look for death like this. You will find death like this.”

Solnaer released his grip and dropped Artemios. He hit the ground coughing, and watched as the vajya's boots grew farther away, followed by the smaller steps of his lady comrade. Artemios forced himself up to a crawl but they disappeared and he slumped back on the floor. He clawed at the dirt, holding onto the rage and screaming, screaming into the abyss.

When he woke, stiff at the base of the door, the tears had long dried and he felt the anger fade, melt into a deep sorrow. Even that he couldn't hold onto. Solnaer was right. He couldn't fight him as he was and do anything. Sighing, Artemios forced himself to his feet. His bones creaked and ached as he did so, and he had no idea how long he had slept.

Not for the first time, he wondered why he was the last man standing. There had been others who were so much more powerful and so much more eager to fight. Artemios had been no one. He was just a boy living in a large Veruna city with a musician father and a regular life like everyone else. He went to school, had his friends, played his games. There was nothing about him that was different than anyone else. Perhaps he was a little smarter than the average youth, and maybe he was too interested in engineering and creating things, but Artemios had lived a relatively normal life. He had had his ups and downs like anyone else. It wasn't as if there weren't others across the world who hadn't surpassed their traumas. Had he somehow climbed that mountain differently and in doing so was given attention by the Eternity Spirits? Or was it in him since the moment of his conception; some part of his soul that was made to be a deity?

He remembered Alisa reaching her hand out and feeling a lightning shock shoot through him. He remembered using that very lightning to destroy every single one of the men who had hurt him in his captivity all those years ago. That all had been in another life, one where the cities of Praxon still existed. One where the skies were ever changing and the two suns shined brightly down on them. Artemios yearned for that world with all of his being, and wished he could turn back time. But that was why he had to keep moving forward. Solnaer was out there, and with his defeat Artemios could return the world back to the way it once was. Or so he believed. It was the only thing that kept him going anymore, and if he stopped believing in it, Solnaer would truly win. There was work to be done, and he couldn't know when the leesch would break down those walls to tear him part again.

The floorboards creaked with each step he took. Electricity crackled from his fingertips. There was a moldy, moth-eaten sofa in the middle of the otherwise empty living room. The windows behind it had been boarded up, and in the cracks he could see the shades of gray outside. To his left, the kitchen. A single island separated the two 'rooms'. A set of four empty chairs kept the island company, and beyond it a counter with dust covered appliances. The sink held a single loan plate, that appeared to have once been cleaned but now offered a thick layer of dust. Artemios turned to faucet with little expectation. Something groaned sluggishly in the pipes and he sprung his hand back as if burnt. Another groan and then out poured a viscous, awful smelling black sludge that steamed up in the damp, chilly air. With a sharp gasp, Artemios shut the faucet and then held up his soggy arm to his face. The plate was melting, and as the sludge slipped down the drawn there was a hiss and a ground. Artemios didn't have to open the cabinet doors to see the pipes underneath had broken too.

The rest of the counter was empty. He pulled open the door to the fridge unit and grimaced as he jerked away. The stink was here too, and more of that black sludge had formed within bottles and pots once filled with left overs. One of the pots formed a bubble that popped a second later, and Artemios had the distinct sensation that something could emerge from the viscous ink and he shut the door. He half-stumbled away from the fridge and toward the upper cabinets. Every so often he glanced at the sink, waiting for something to reach out and attach itself to Artemio's skin. Inside the cabinets, a ton of cobwebs drooped like defeated angel wings. He shut the doors with a slight slam. The same was found of the lower cabinets, and Artemios would have given up there if not for the pantry.

It was a thin door, and Artemios pulled it open, almost tripping over his feet when a long, tall shelf slid out. There were thick gray cobwebs hanging along the shelves, but at the bottom were three cans. If not for the dust coating their frame, Artemios would have thought they were bought days ago at a grocery store. He had seen bloated ones, and empty cans, and deceptive ones that had stank. His confidence wavered. What if it was more of that black sludge? He thought. It could be. I've never seen it before and this house was too easy to find. It's a trap, it's all a trap. But hail vajya, he stared at them, I'm starving.

He swiped them off the shelf and took them all with him toward the kitchen island. He set the cans down and a layer of dust exploded. Artemios dusted himself and the cans off before unsheathing his knive. He swung it around and feeling hope swell in his heart, he stabbed the top of one of the cans. Meat and sweet fruit, read the label. A clear thick liquid spewed up around the knife and Artemios almost cried. He almost ripped the rest of the lid off and ate the contents in one gulp. The next can went in the same way, until there was only one left. Just as he was about to sink his knife in, a loud crash sounded from the second floor. Artemios jumped and stiffened, listening for the next sound. His heart hammered in his chest and it took all of his willpower to keep his breath steady.

#nanowrimo #pargoc;#maelstrom's chain #chapter one

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iforiaetxrisi-blog · 8 years ago

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maelstrom’s chain - chapter one (pt 1)

THE DEADLANDS; PRAXON

Year 20145 After the Great Purge

In the endless ruin that remained of a once magnificent city, a small orb of faint light floated along, descending from high in the gray, forever raining sky. It drew lower and lower to the ground, sweeping around jagged, uprooted concrete and through the skeleton windows of rusted vehicles. A long comet tail drifted behind the orb. Little soul particles fell away as the orb moved, like a rain of tiny neon lights. It dipped into a wide scar, filling with black rain water, cradled by debris and destruction. Concrete, dirt, twisted metal and trash rose up like canyon walls and the orb flew through, like a rocket enjoying a clean stretch of undisturbed airspace.

Slowly the debris gave way to a vast wasteland. A plane of blackened desert stretched out before the orb, but still it continued without pause. Hills made of rocks emerged from the dirt, planks of wood jutting out like arms; more debris and carnage of a society long gone. Pairs of yellow eyes blinked every so often from the deepest shadows as it moved past. A hiss and growl emitted, along with the scratch of something moving sluggishly from the pits where they hid. The orb did not pause and wait for them, and instead dimmed in response. After speeding through the wasteland for a little longer, the orb shot up into the sky again and circled above like a bird seeking pray. Then down it went again slowing until it reached the mouth of a debris cave and inside it went.

“Artemios...” a voice echoed as if from somewhere both far and very near. There was a note of hesitation. “I've returned!” The hesitation disappeared, replaced instead by a forced cheer that even the state of the being could not hide.

The orb was greeted by the faint glow of a fire deep in the cave, and the unconscious figure of a young man on his side. Artemios did not move, and the shadows cast by the dying fire made him look ghastly. His dark skin had an almost grayish hue and blood had dried along his temple, under his nose, and around his lips. Blond hair stuck to his forehead, a sheen of sweat glistened. Every breath that came through scarred lips was a wheezing huff. Blood-caked hands clung to a tattered blanket they found three weeks ago in a half-destroyed home. Everything else, from the deep red jacket, the torn jeans, and ragged sneakers, were all remnants held onto from before the world had gone to hell. The orb, once known as Enleis, couldn't remember anymore how long it had been.

“Artemios...wake up, please.” The ethereal light brightened and a near translucent figure appeared beside the prone body. Enleis reached out to touch his son, but his fingers fell through him as if he weren't there at all. Still, Artemios shivered and eyelids fluttered. A grin brightened Enleis' ghostly features and he drifted away. A few blinks and Artemios found his focus. He responded with a weak smile that morphed into a awful fit of coughing. It pushed him to rise to a seated position and he wavered like a paper in the wind.

“Good! You're up.” Enleis couldn't keep the tremble out of his voice. “We don't have long to go. I've found it. Where she'd been locked away, I mean.”

Artemios frowned, squinting at the ghost as if he wasn't sure what he meant. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. Enleis was taken aback.

“What do you mean 'no'?” Enleis grimaced. “My boy...can't you even use the thought trick?”

Another shake of Artemios' head. He offered Enleis a shrug and a painful, sheepish smile. Enleis knew what that meant, and he didn't like it. They had gone through this already three times before. He didn't know how many more times Artemios could take it. And neither did Artemios. It had been a month since he had fought with Solnaer's General. After months or years of near-solitude, things had changed. The gray clouds had given way to sunlight for just a few hours and the wastelands had shifted, opening massive fissures in the ground. It was a sign that Solnaer had not been through with Artemios yet, and that the last of the new chosen deities had not been forgotten. Where there had been nothing in the eternal deadlands of Praxon, The Shift had unearthed the keys to salvation Artemios thought lost forever, In the deepest pits of his despair, Solnaer had given him a slight mercy. But Artemios had known, as he had for so long now, that it was just the precursor to some new awful torment the vadya planned to put him through. And he'd been right. For with this chance to redeem himself had come the General.

“Well don't just sit there. Use your hands. Don't tell me you've forgotten how to sign, too.” Enleis sighed with overdramatic flair, but Artemios knew he was only trying to lighten the mood. For Artemios to be unable to thought-speak meant he was dangerously close to being depleted. If the Eternity Spirit within him faded, than Artemios would fade as well. He wasn't looking forward to it. This would be his fourth death.

'Alright, E. What did you find?' He signed to the ghost, slowly, as if he were speaking with someone who might not understand. Enleis rolled his eyes.

“I'm serious, Artie. I think I may have found a lead--or better than a lead. My boy, I think I may have found what we've been looking for.” Enleis shimmered with excitement. Little bursts of spirit particles floated off the partly formed body.

Artemios watched them with his single good eye, and then forced his attention back on his father's face. The hopeful glow drew a smile to his exhausted features, but he couldn't deny how he felt. Things simply had not been the same since his run in with the General. She had been a formidable foe, and still was. He had overused his energy, and so the Eternity Spirit had faded within him, leaving him weak. Without the Spirits full power, he could not heal at the same rate, and without any way to gain strength, he was left almost invalid. The hopefulness faded from Enleis' expression as if he knew well where Artemios' mind had traveled. It wasn't hard to imagine. Artemios was sagging back against the cave wall with every second that passed.

“Now, hold on. I can see what you're thinking, my boy. And I won't have it! I'll be back again, I'll find something for you.”

The ghost sparkled and then dimmed to become nothing more than the orb of light again. Artemios flinched and reached out, his father's name on the tip of a useless tongue. But it was too late, and Enleis had disappeared around the corner out of the cave. A sigh escaped Artemios and he dropped back against the hard rocks. The fire had dimmed significantly during their short conversation, and the shadows deepened. Enleis was right, though. Artemios couldn't go through another death and return. The cycle was draining him, and though the Eternity Spirit promised him total immortality, that immortality would be wasted in a body he could no longer move. Silently cursing Enleis' usual ELEPHANT, Artemios forced himself up off the damp ground and to his feet. He wavered and almost fell. Every inch of him felt like lead and he wanted nothing more than to lay down again. The ground was hard and uncomfortable, but standing felt even more so. He felt like he was a teetering skyscraper on the verge of collapse. His head was a buoy detached and lost at sea. Artemios shut his eyes and sucked in a breath, drawing in the remaining gasps of strength.

He had fallen and rose to his feet before. He had picked himself up so many times, he'd lost count. There had been times where he thought he would never rise again, but in that deepest darkness he had found his true self. Artemios had promised he would never fall and stay fallen. Back then the world had been whole and he had had hands to grab to assist him out of the Pits. Now, he braced himself against his knees and straightened up. His vision swam and darkened and he remembered the voices of those friends like they were there with him. There was Hayle, with a grin on his face, and a laugh in his throat clad in his military uniform and pressing a finger to his lips, like 'shh, don't tell anyone I'm here'. Hayle draped a heavy arm around Artemios' shoulder and clapped him on the chest and said 'You just keep looking forward to the sunrise. That's how every day starts, right? So when the night comes, just know the suns are rising on the other side of the world'.

With that voice in his head, and the thought a mantra in his heart, Artemios took a step forward, and then another, until he was at the mouth of the cave looking out into the deadlands. Rain poured. The black clouds above obscured the purple hue of the sky and all light. It was a perpetual midnight, and Artemios could barely see. The reality of his situation should have quieted the surge of renewed hope, but his determination was stronger than this. He may have been the last one standing after all these years, but he wasn't done for yet. Solnaer may have torn the cities down and made the world rubble. He may have killed every last person Artemios had ever held dear, and then erased the rest out of existence. He may have laid the weight of the entire universe upon Artemios's shoulders, but he was still there. He had not given up. He would never give up. Solnaer was still out there, waiting for him. Artemios couldn't just lie here and wait until he was strong enough. He would never fix the world that way.

And yet Enleis had left. If Artemios tried to run after him now, the ghost would have to go hunting for him again, and they had been through that so many times now. As hard as it was to see Enleis in the form he now had, it was even worse to be in this desolate landscape alone. Artemios froze, staring out at the abyss of the world before him. If this fear was enough to cripple him here, then how would he ever rectify all the damage that had been done? The General had told him he wasn't ready yet, and the truth was in his failing body. The truth was in his fear frozen form. A grumble somewhere in front of him drew him out of his thoughts. The vague shadows were moving. Artemios took a step back, his heart hammering against his rib cage. If he could draw back into the cave again, he would be safe. He could stay there until Enleis came back and then they would embark. The grumble rumbled forth again. A tremor shook underfoot. Artemios held his breath.

A pair of luminescent neon eyes peered out from the shadows and stared right at him. A lightning bolt of fear struck Artemios. The next second he was tumbling out of the way as a black tendril rocketed out of the darkness. The wall of the cave exploded. The entrance caved in. Rain pelted his exhausted, painful body. His hair matted to his forehead. He slipped and tripped over stones and debris. Mud sucked at his boots. Behind him, it slithered and crawled after with an awful sound like grinding metal. Artemios was blind. The Eternity Spirit's whisper was the faintest sound. All he could hear was the grinding metal growing louder behind him. The smell of decay, rust and black water. Another swipe of a clawed tendril. He ducked and slipped. He careened down a slimy muddy hill, clawing madly for something to stop his descent. Artemios hit the bottom. His breath was caught in his chest and his limbs flailed as he tried to get up. He slipped in the mud again. He was full of it. It was in his mouth and his hair until he finally rose to his knees. But the leesch was upon him now, the grinding sound roaring in his ears. He wanted to scream.

In his minds eye he saw Alisa, her black hair braided down her back, her green eyes piercing. She was smirking with that knowing smile, the one that challenged him. He saw her turn to him, hold out her hand, and Artemios reached out to grasp it. He almost did. He almost felt the slender calloused fingers close around his scarred ones. Pain exploded in his chest and her hand faded away. Blood filled his mouth and he coughed up a mouthful. The leesch turned him around to stare up into those horrifying yellow eyes. If he could scream, if he could scream. A clawed tendril drew down like a thrown spear and it shredded him; an agonizing hole in his side. He spasmed. It drew him up, and Artemios felt himself fade as he coughed again, choking.

Somewhere he thought he heard the General laugh. It was like a thousand screeching birds.

#maelstroms chain #pargoc;#nanowrimo #chapter one #tw: death #tw: gore #to be safe bc i mean its not really thAT descriptive but s t i l l

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