Trapped With No Future

Chapter 8 Lost in the Deathly Lifeless Realm

Blood of black darkness dried upon the two of them. It was dusk of twilight burning before midnight reaps. Bloody blanks of illumination flooded the sneaky sharp-movement mists. Every piece of air put together a slinky of death and lifelessness. Eliathem was gnawing. Wishing for her restless lungs to expand. Very little wrinkles of sighing oxygen followed the path of her beseeching gasps. It felt as if the drapes of hell crashed down on them. The King or his real name, Donclane. Eliathem was able to hear and then know his birth name when they were swallowed and consumed by the portal of whispering wraiths, who always know the truth.

Eliathem was the first to rise up. She trembled as she put her hands on the floor to give her more balance and her legs fluttered from left to right as she gradually dragged and lugged them up into a standing formation. Then after slowing her heart rate down and could finally lose fatigue, she graciously threw her arm around to aid the King in yanking him up. "How are you feeling thy King, or should I be more accurate and call you...Donclane", Eliathem said with some arrogance in her voice.

The King for a small second gave a wide eye glare towards Eliathem and then forcefully put his head back down before she could acknowledge the coherence of him. With much sweat freshly bleeding from the ends of his light brown shade of hair, he replied, "Yes, I know that you know my name, I heard all the same as you did in the dark portal of Whispering Wraiths of Secrets, so please put away the 'I caught you' look on your lips".

"You have no right to tell me to do anything. Why in the world would you never mention your name", Eliathem asked with a crooked gasp.

"Well...um...you...never asked", the King said cautiously.

"What? I am getting tired of you saying that. I do not get why you could not tell me your name", Eliathem said with disappointment sketched on both her cheeks.

The King then started to explain exhaustively, "I do not feel comfortable using the name, Donclane because it reminds me of my Father, who was called Donclane and named me Donclane. He was—"

"Wait what? You had a Father? I thought you said that you were the first God", Eliathem said confused with astonishment.

"Of course not. I created this world and inherited everything, but I had someone who created me, who essentially is my Father. Back to what I was saying. He was not a very good person. I did not admire him that much. He tended to only care about himself and left me alone to think of this life on my own. He left me. I have no idea where he is. So, I decided to not allow people to know my name. It just made me feel more alone", the King said with much grief.

"That sounds horrible. I am sorry about that.", Eliathem said compassionately.

"Do not worry. I am past it. Now we must get on with what has happened. Eliathem, what shall we do now", the King demanded as he wiped away his light, melted tears?

"I think we should um. Oh, we should look at the small chest we found in the cavern", Eliathem said excitedly!

"Do you still have it", the King quickly replied?

Eliathem turned over her pack and ripped it open. Scavenging through the pack, she was able to see the chest at the bottom of her pack. "Yes, here it is", Eliathem whispered with joy. With cautious hands, She unlatched the box and gradually started to open it. There was an overcast of dismal murky dust that mounted over the treasure. The cinders washed away into the bleak air. She was able to see the blooming heart with the furrowed-out shape of a cylinder edged inside the middle of the possessive heart. The two of them were glistening with astonishment.

"We found the next symbol of the heart. I cannot believe this", Eliathem said with enthusiasm.

"Did you bring the first symbol of the cylinder with the key symbol in the middle of it", the King said.

"Yes, I did", Eliathem said as her hands chewed open the front pouch of her pack and snatched it out.

There, facing her, was the two symbols, the cylinder, and heart. It was glorious for her mournful eyes.

"Put the cylinder into the heart", the King spoke. Eliathem glided the cylinder into the middle of the heart. Nothing but a sparking puff of limpid starry smoke burst out and rained down and was buried into the filthy ground. She put it into her pack and then they started to walk forward to explore what would hopefully not guide them astray.