Tales of Xyanthia: Part Fourteen

This is a dual collaberation story with DarkRen and myself, Part Thirteen is HERE, if you haven’t read it yet. His sections will be in Violet and mine will be in Blue. And, a shameless plug, just in case you haven’t started reading this at all and want to start at the beginning, the first part is HERE

Without an immediate answer, Renyck resolved to continue inward as he could. Having rested for some moments, with the silent dead milling below, he rose from the resting crouch to consider his options in upward mobility, such as it was. The best path was clear, near columns within a few feet of his perch. He gauged the distance, and then leapt carefully, landing on the next squarely. A moment to recover then he leapt again. Progress was slow and tiring, but better than an attempt to fight through the dozens upon dozens of Unworthy who trailed along after him, able to keep up to his hopping pace.

By the twentieth leap sweat was beading on his forehead, his legs burning lightly with strain. He paused again, the meandering dead slowly congregating around his perch once more as Renyck rested. But the time wasn’t wasted. His young mind was hard at work, will to continue undaunted. There was a means; he needed only to discover it. And he would, if he spent days atop these pillars.

When he was again ready to move, he had observed a better path ahead. Pillars close enough that he could leap easier. But to get there he had to make two tricky leaps. Two normal hops brought him to them. There again he paused to consider his path carefully. Ahead, just within the distance he could leap was a slender pillar, just thick enough for two feet. Past it was another. Closer, but leaping from the slender one would be hard with little room. Glancing down toward the shambling creatures he licked his lips, hand lifted to draw his blade. If he falls, he shall need it ready.

He backs to the edge of the wide pillar he stands upon, focusing on his goal, the slender pillar. With a quick forward step he leaps, legs drawn in close. Cloak rising and falling behind him, his aim is good. He lands on the pillar in a slight crouch. The momentum of his leap is used in the second as his legs snap again, launching him forward. But he can see almost instantly that he’s falling short. Desperately he reaches out with one hand, snagging the edge, emitting a light grunt as he crashes into the side of the pillar, holding on by just his fingers. Side lightly bruised, his fingers already aching he is thankful for his light armor. The shambling dead below approach, but his feet are just outside the reach of their fingertips. The mournful cries from them affront his ears as he lifts his blade up to set onto the pillar.

With the relief of his second grip in the edge Renyck grits his teeth, slowly pulling himself up. The toes of his boots scrape against the side as he seeks purchase; laboriously he manages to pull himself upward. Getting his arms over the edge and wiggling himself upward until he can crouch low atop, gathering his breath. He looks up, as his hand lifts his blade, seeing that the line of close pillars, almost close enough to walk along, lead to a wall that surrounds some manner of cleared area. Is this the goal? He hopes as he sheathed his blade, slowly rising to his feet.

As he stands and turns towards the wall and clearing, the sounds of the Unworthy remains, and yet they are not the only sound heard, for there is another that filters through. A low hum, a crescendo of sound that grows louder, coming from ahead, and he follows that sound, his footsteps sure and careful. A rumbling sound, reminding him of a herd of horses hoof beats or a multitude of winged creatures, yet cutting through the rumble is a high-pitched scream, startling him as he places his hand upon his sword again, beginning to draw it from his back sheath.

Reaching the wall, stepping off the last pillar, there is a flicker of movement, not from below, but ahead that draws his eyes. Holding his sword before him, hand gripping firmly, and then.. just there.. beyond the wall a shadow moves to his left, rimmed by a brilliant light that almost instantaneously disappears again. Already pushed to the point of endurance and beyond, the adrenaline rushes through him as he quickens his pace. Light footsteps, quick and sure, and so he approaches, ever closer. So intent is he that as he nears, he is startled by a bright arc of light, brilliant as the sun that forces him back two paces and almost causing him to stumble, the sheer drop along the other side of the wall certain death. Flames shoot towards him, though there is no heat, and no time for him to make sense of what it is that produces such or where it came from. It is the cloak that protects him, pulled swiftly to guard his face, turning away from the clearing to crouch low, facing the other side of the wall as a shadow teases his vision from where the dark fabric flickers around his face in the slight breeze.

Again the scream that fills his mind, a woman’s’ voice, tormented, tortured, beyond all hope. A rage fills the young man as he gathers his resolve, when he stands carefully, slowly and with grim determination turns to face what he feels could be his ultimate challenge. He is unprepared, however, for the sight that greets his eyes, the lack of foe, instead the normalcy, and the trees that grow beyond the wall of stone pillars. He turns his head to look back along the path he’s made along the wall, from the pillars, there is still the shambling of the Unworthy, the cries almost non-existent in the face of their quarry gone. The faint smell of burnt flesh, of decay, of death permeates the air, yet not so close yet, still a distance from where he is.

When Part Fifteen is ready, I’ll post a link.