Heir to the Serpent: Onward to Air

Blackout

Sometimes Zach struggled to remember his own life. It made no sense, but some days he would wake up in his bed and feel as if there was a giant hole in his past. Eventually, he would brush it off and go on with his day…desperately trying to ignore the little part of his brain that insisted that he remember something that simply wasn’t there.

Today was no different. He rolled over onto his side in his bed, feeling as if someone was pounding on the inside of his head with a hammer.

“Zachary Traylor, get down here this minute!” his mother was becoming impatient.

“I’m comin’!” he yelled back. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He immediately regretted the decision as the room began to sway back and forth. He collapsed to the floor with a thud. He could hear his mother running up the stairs as the world around him faded into nothingness.

“Zachary.” He could hear someone speaking to him, and it definitely wasn’t his mother. Unless his mom’s voice had suddenly dropped like a hundred octaves. He blinked, the space around him was dark and unbearably humid.

A cave? He pondered. He looked down at his feet and yelped in surprised. He expected to see a stone floor or at least some gravel…not water. He carefully took a step forward, testing to see if it was an illusion.

Still standing, he observed. He got ready to take another step. He raised his foot and put it back down, and it sank. Tanking the rest of his body with him. He screamed, which didn’t work out to well underwater. He felt water invade his lungs and realized he was going to drown. It hurt. It hurt so much. All other thoughts vacated his mind as it glazed over with searing pain. He clutched at his throat as he was pulled deeper into the void. He closed his eyes and waited for the pain to subside. For it to all be over…and instead was greeted with something else entirely. He had hit something. Hard. He flung his eyes open in response to the new and quickly dulling pain.

Zach gasped for air, clutched at his chest, and finally sighed heavily before taking in his new surroundings. He was in a jail cell, an old fashioned one at that. He had landed close to a large wooden door. There was a small window near the top that was covered in bars on the inside. Light filtered into the room from a barred window on the far wall. Sitting in front of it was a small boy. He was visibly malnourished. Old trays of food sat scattered around him covered in what looked raw meat, all of it untouched.

Zach forced himself to stand and made his way over to him, he crouched next to the younger boy, “Um…hello?” he said. He didn’t see how the kid could have not noticed him fall into the cell from who knew where.

The boy himself was a sickly shade of gray, his skin drawn tight over frail bones. His cheekbones stuck out and his eyes were sunken into his skull. Physically he resembled a ghost. A deadman.

His hair was light gray and stuck out in a greasy mop atop his head. Little streaks of black occasionally appeared in random spots. His eyes were jet black, with no whites. Just big black orbs. Fangs protruded from his lips.

“Save him. Bring him to me. The one who flies in starlight will show you the way.”

The young boy snapped his head towards him and stared as if he was looking for something.

He blinked,” Hurry. Please, please hurry.” He croaked.

Zach gasped and collapsed to the floor once more