| Subject: OOC: *Laughs* You can't be serious Archie! It stinks!!! BIC: *Smiles* Well, it's been a while since I've last written, but here's the next part. Oh, and thanks everyone for your support! It is GREATLY apperciated! |
Author:
Sekin Brightfall
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Date Posted: 02:13:56 11/20/03 Thu
In reply to:
Artie's Role Player
's message, "OOC:your storys awesome!!!! i love all the details and all the made up names and stuff! you have a great imagination!!!" on 02:06:43 11/18/03 Tue
The agony didn't diminish with the Shadowrider's passing, instead, it seemed to grow. Tongues of firey pain curled up from his side, lancing into him, and the blood that flowed from the tainted wound seemed strangely cold. Grisen closed his eyes. He felt numb, but aflame, and yet cold at the same time.
A wood...The thought came floating to his mind like a bubble to the surface of a swamp. A wood...Blood filled his mouth and he didn't know why. A wood...Safety....Refuge from the Dark. A wood...
He didn't know how he did it, but inch by tortured inch, he rolled over onto his back, and inch by agonizing inch, he levered himself onto his hands and knees. He could hardly see the bones beneath his fingers or the blood falling from his mouth. A wood...The sword still clenched in his fist, he took a step forwards. A wood....And another, stumblingh with his ruined vision and trying not to scream. He could feel nothing, not the rain the drenched him, nor the ground beneath his feet...Not even his head on collision with the gate.
A wood...Safety. The gate swung open and he fell flat onto the dirt road outside. His feet came under him and he lurched slowly towards the wood that was just a black blur on the edge of his vision.
The road suddenly gave way under his feet, and he fell down the deep side of the ditch, until he lay in the brackish water at its bottom. Grisen lay still for a long while, a solitary figure curled in the dirty water, almost indistinguishable from his surroundings. And then, finally, Grisen raised his head out of the sludge and slwoly began to crawl up the ditch's side, sliding back into the water several times. Safety...
Reaching the field of dry grass, Grisen almost choked on the blood in his mouth. Coughing painfully, he staggered forwards. Burning, fire, burning. Safety...He didn't even see that he had reached the forest's fringes. Smashing blindly into trees, he continued on deeper into the forest. Pain was roaring in him, his blood was acid,his skull about to break. Panting harshly, Grisen tripped over a tree root and fell on his stomach. He didn't even realize he was crawling on his belly like a worm, but he was.
A light came blaring out from the surrounding trees, and Grisen crawled towards it like a moth to a flame. Safety...The light drew nearer through the rain, until Grsien crawled into the makeshift campsite.
Grisen stopped. He couldn't move any further, the pain was too great. A pait of black boots suddenly stepped in front of him, one with a jagged hole in its top and the hem of a black cloak whispered faintly. All Grisen could do was raise his head to stare at the figure that towered over him. A weak but sudden smile curled around Grisen's bloody face. "It's you Blade of Light! I found you M'Lord! Finally!...They said you were dead...But you're not...Safety..." Grisen's head fell onto the dirt in front of him and he didn't move, not even to breathe.
Fyrth's dead eyes gleamed at teh mention of teh Blade of Light, but no other emotion crossed his slack face. He stared at Grisen's limp form for a while, eyes narrowed slightly. The only sound was the squelching of rain as it fell onto the leaves and the hiss of the fire's embers as the drops connected with the glowing coals. With a twirl, Fyrth restored the long dagger he had drawn at Grisen's approach back into his belt. the steel slid in with a whisper and came to rest along side his hip. With only a slight limp, Fyrth strode to Grisen's side and squatted easily down in a crouch, reaching out with a gloved hand to peel back the bloody tunic from the Shadowrider's wound. The gash was right below Grisen's lowest rib, but it wrenched upwards to cut across several ribs. The white of Grisen's bone showed clearly in the dark of his blood. Fyrth's dulling eyes slid from the vibrant sliver of bone to the edge of the wound where the skin was black and cracked, crumbling and rotting away. Fyrth looked long and hard at the wound, face so deathly blank it could have been a mask, and eyes riveted on the black flesh. Suddenly, Fyrth rose gracefully and his eyes shot to Grisen's sword and the insignia halfway up its length. Fyrth nodded to himself once, before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.
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