What was once the world of light and shadow has now become the world of darkness.
Yurn found himself in that place. Surrounded by the deafening silence—no ringing in his ears, no white noise—just pure emptiness.
Even though this realm was devoid of all light, somehow he could still see his own form, still wearing the guard's armour, like the one he donned in the forest. Though this place wasn't the forest he was just in, nothing was here—nothing but himself.
No trees, no slops of mud, no leaves—devoid of all natural life.
He himself was the light; his body gave off an emanating glow, softly allowing his eyes to adjust to this desolate place.
The lone soul was now looking all around, flicking his head from left to right, then up and down. Afraid to move anything but his eyes, he thought he would fall ever deeper into the unknown.
Under his feet was the ground, but not that of mud, but one that felt like stone; it was solid. He had no idea where he was. He could have been on the edge of a cliff, in a hole, or
speaking frantically as a dark thought popped into his head.
Yurn: Alvin? Robert?, Carl?, Uill? (pausing at the last.) Vayreban? (No one answered.) Am I dead? (confused.)
Opening and closing his hands, he could feel the tightening of skin along his knuckles and the moving of tendons underneath; even his heartbeat was thumping, almost filling the chasm around him with the mixture of his breathing.
Before he could ponder any further on the state of his body and mind, something joined him in his sea of thoughts—something that was already here, waiting, and watching.
Unknown voice: NOT YET! (Distorted.)
The guard spun around, facing the area where the voice came from, his eyes squinting to allow whatever light around him into his eyes to help fight against the shadows, searching for whatever spoke to him.
Yurn: ALVIN? Is that you? Where are you? (unsure voice.)
Then a distortion caught the corner of his eye.
A shadowy form took hold, like a heat haze, rippling in the air; it looked to be like a mirage of a man in the distance, only in appearance; there were no legs or arms, just a silhouette of a man.
Two eyes began to pierce the veil of darkness that surrounded them both. Like two lone stars in the emptiness of a night sky, glowing, twinkling like flickering flames, never fading, always constant in its brightness, it was staring directly at him.
Yurn: Who... (he paused, realising something.) What... are you? (afraid tone.)
No answer came. This moment reminded him of the staring match he had with his lord, but this thing held no hatred or contempt for him. It was a blank stare; he needed no facial form to see this. He looked into the eyes of many men, but this thing was no man.
Yurn: What? What do you want? (unsure but calm)
The unknown entity that stood across from him made no attempts to venture forward; it was steadfast.
Then something began to move, breaking from the ripple of shadows. What looked to be a hand was decrepit, not in age but in form, thin and slender.
There was no beginning of nails fading to skin, only sharp points that pierced the veil of shadow. It was the epitome of darkness; some fingers were longer than others. The longest of them pointed at something to its right.
Yurn's eyes moved to his left, away from the monstrous hand.
A wall came into view; the edges of it were fading into the world around; it looked like a mirror with a watery edge, a mirror that reflected neither of them but a world beyond this realm.
What looked to be a rock wall, covered in flakes of moss, was the stone, nearly hidden by nature and time.
His eyes being the only thing he wanted to move, his feet locked in place, not wanting to get closer to the thing ahead. The guard began to speak, not knowing what the messenger ahead of him wanted.
Yurn: What do you want from me? (unsure voice.)
No answer came. Not one of words, but one of movement. The arm raised itself a little higher, and the lone man looked closer.
Yurn: (Thinking to himself.) Etched into the stone, the shape of a crudely scratched animal was embedded into the ageing rock face; it looked like...
before he could finish describing the drawing in his mind. A command came from the wielder of the hand.
Unknown voice: Find him! (slow but deep, distorted echo)—still pointing to the fading vision of a stone wall.
The arm returned back into the shadows, and as the eyes slowly closed, the vision of the mysterious form and the wall it manifested dissipated to nothingness.
Yurn was alone once more.
As the creature faded into the abyss, so did the darkness, slowly being pulled in, leaving a world of light in its wake.
The ringing in his ears started to take hold.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No longer in the realm of the shadows. The blurry shapes in front of him came into focus as time passed, melding into the world of the living that blinded him when that thing left, taking the darkness with it.
As the ringing began, it gradually started to fade from Yurn's ears. Another sound took its place, pushing it aside forcefully. This wasn't the words of Alvin's antics—not one of men comforting him, but one of guttural screams.
The white light returned once more; this time it resembled a mound of snow. The haze began to fade, and the snow melted into strands, some thick and some thin.
He was looking at the long, thin snout; it was an animal. An animal that had its jaws around the head of the man, he focused. Slowly, the face of the man became clearer; it was Carl.
Drool was pouring around the man's face, slipping down his cheeks, mixing into the tears and snot that poured down him—his own and the beasts. Blending into the slurry were streams of blood, coming from the wounds the teeth were making as they bit into the man's skull, pushing deeper and deeper.
Carl: GET IT OFF! AHHHHHH! HELP… HEL… (Muffled cries faded.)
He awoke from one nightmare, only to find himself in another.
Helplessly watching as the jaws closed around the head of Carl, clamping shut and the arms of its prey slumping down. No more screams could be heard, no more cries for help, only silence. Carl was no more.
A sword was now sticking out of the ground, with only mud gracing its edge, unused and glittering in the flickers of sunlight from above.
A roar came, not of the beast but of men. A hateful voice rang into the forest.
Robert: No, no, no! CARL! YOU BASTARD! AHHH! (screaming at the beast.)
The white mound took no interest in the bawling of the man or the insult hurled its way. Its sole interest was in the meat that was in its mouth. Clamped around what was the face of Carl, dragging the corpse of the guard around as it moved, like a doll in a child's hands, cracking sounds struck into the air with every movement. It was now looking for an escape.
A man spoke.
Alvin: Quickly surround it! NOW! (pointing to his left and right.)
Vayreban: I will take the left!
Three men didn't speak, the two still living: Uill, Yurn, and Carl. The only sounds he made were the rustles of his body being dragged along the forest floor.
Yurn was instinctively already on his feet, and the sword was in his hands; muscle memory was taking hold. He had no recollection of this happening, stumbling as his knees gave way; his body was acting where his mind could not.
Moving forward, stumbling, then holding his footing. In front of him was a young man. He gripped the neck of the chest piece with his free hand, dragging Uill away from the battle that was raging between the three men and the beast, using all of his might.
Yurn: Uill… We need to get some distance! Uill? (looking down.) UILL! (His eyes went wide.)
As he pulled Uill away, he didn't notice the trail he made—not one of mud and leaves, but one of blood.
The right leg of the guard was gone. Only a ragged stump remained; in front of him, he could see the leg under the beast.
He could see the left leg of the monster draped in blood, its claws glistening in the sun, and the blood permeating into the fur around it. If he had to guess, the claws of this monster caused the damage to Uill's leg.
Yurn: Watch out for its claws! (Aiming at the men, hoping they would listen to his words, he turned his focus back to the man on the ground.) UILL! Can you hear me? (shouting and slapping the face of the man, trying to wake him up.)
No answer came.
Stabbing his sword in the ground next to him, Yurn pulled the strap from his sheath, cutting it with the open blade from the ground. He began to wrap it around the upper right leg, above the bleeding wound, tightening it with the sheath at the core, using it as a makeshift tourniquet.
With every twist, the bleeding slowed; after three more, it stopped entirely. He angled the sheath so it ran up Uill's leg and tied it in place with another strap from Uill's belt.
Alvin: Yurn! (He turned and saw Uill being attended to; he saw the missing leg.) SHIT! We will deal with this thing; continue with him. Use it on him! (He patted his leg, clearly aiming at Yurn, then locked his eyes with the beast ahead.) Watch the claws, men! Come on, come and get it! (grinning.)
Something shot into Yurn's mind... He rummaged around in his pocket, searching for the glass bottle.