She stood in a dark hallway, carrying a lantern. A pale night gown hung loose on her form, her naked feet embraced by the cold floor boards. A black silhouette of a tall man stood some feet away from her.
She swallowed lightly, yet stepped forth, raising her lantern warily to illuminate his features. The fragile flicker of the golden flame revealed her brother. The tall man stared down at her in silence, before taking a step to his side and vanishing in the shadows. Along the hallway another dark figure appeared some feet away from her. The woman rushed forth to illuminate him as well, only to meet her brother again. Silently he stepped to his side like before, allowing her passage. She sprinted forth now in a feverish pace, meeting hundred shadowy figures of her brother. One by one, all of them fled her grasp by stepping into the shadows.
For ages she ran along the black hallway which seemed to stretch beyond forever. Yet gradually her legs grew heavy, as if they would have turned into iron and she halted, panting. The familiar dark figure stood afore her still, but this time she found herself unwilling to chase it. Suddenly the figure stepped forth. When the weak light of her lantern could reach the man’s features, she could see it was her Reeve. The old leader walked past her, staring vacantly in front of himself. His words echoing darkly, “I give you three days.” She turned to follow him, yet he too vanished in the shadows.
She let out a slow breath, turning around again, only to be frightened by the figure of Thrymm who stood right in front of her. He was pale and sickly, bathed in sweat and dirt. She frowned anxiously, her words trembling, “I will find you, Captain. I promise, I will find you.” Thrymm’s strange features twisted into a disappointed frown before he turned to reveal another figure behind his back. The shadow was slowly walking toward them both. Faerhild raised the lantern which trembled in her grip and the dark figure gained the features of Arewe. His pale face was solemn, even if blood was gushing from between his lips, painting his beard crimson.
Faerhild stepped backward, her wide eyes filled with terror, “I...I’m sorry... I’m so sorry... Master...” She flicked her frightened gaze on Thrymm, seeking her Captain's support. The Captain was covered in blood. His heavy breaths steaming as the air around them turned freezing cold.
Her heart turned in horror.
The woman gasped and winced awake, her breaths short and heavy, steaming in the cold air. She was shivering in a pile of hay inside a barn. A barn, which her and those whom she had freed, had chosen as their shelter. The distant snoring of the men traveled across the dark and cold adobe. Her features squeezed in pain and she quickly covered her face with her hands to constrain herself from making any sounds while she cried.
After she had managed to calm her heart, she pulled her hands down, leaving one upon her chest atop her heart. She frowned with determination, staring up at the dark ceiling, “I will find you, Captain….I promise.”
She swallowed lightly, yet stepped forth, raising her lantern warily to illuminate his features. The fragile flicker of the golden flame revealed her brother. The tall man stared down at her in silence, before taking a step to his side and vanishing in the shadows. Along the hallway another dark figure appeared some feet away from her. The woman rushed forth to illuminate him as well, only to meet her brother again. Silently he stepped to his side like before, allowing her passage. She sprinted forth now in a feverish pace, meeting hundred shadowy figures of her brother. One by one, all of them fled her grasp by stepping into the shadows.
For ages she ran along the black hallway which seemed to stretch beyond forever. Yet gradually her legs grew heavy, as if they would have turned into iron and she halted, panting. The familiar dark figure stood afore her still, but this time she found herself unwilling to chase it. Suddenly the figure stepped forth. When the weak light of her lantern could reach the man’s features, she could see it was her Reeve. The old leader walked past her, staring vacantly in front of himself. His words echoing darkly, “I give you three days.” She turned to follow him, yet he too vanished in the shadows.
She let out a slow breath, turning around again, only to be frightened by the figure of Thrymm who stood right in front of her. He was pale and sickly, bathed in sweat and dirt. She frowned anxiously, her words trembling, “I will find you, Captain. I promise, I will find you.” Thrymm’s strange features twisted into a disappointed frown before he turned to reveal another figure behind his back. The shadow was slowly walking toward them both. Faerhild raised the lantern which trembled in her grip and the dark figure gained the features of Arewe. His pale face was solemn, even if blood was gushing from between his lips, painting his beard crimson.
Faerhild stepped backward, her wide eyes filled with terror, “I...I’m sorry... I’m so sorry... Master...” She flicked her frightened gaze on Thrymm, seeking her Captain's support. The Captain was covered in blood. His heavy breaths steaming as the air around them turned freezing cold.
Her heart turned in horror.
The woman gasped and winced awake, her breaths short and heavy, steaming in the cold air. She was shivering in a pile of hay inside a barn. A barn, which her and those whom she had freed, had chosen as their shelter. The distant snoring of the men traveled across the dark and cold adobe. Her features squeezed in pain and she quickly covered her face with her hands to constrain herself from making any sounds while she cried.
After she had managed to calm her heart, she pulled her hands down, leaving one upon her chest atop her heart. She frowned with determination, staring up at the dark ceiling, “I will find you, Captain….I promise.”
