The Knight's Eyes

9: MAD MIST

The next day came with dark gray clouds threatening a storm some time during the day. He had arisen from death in the middle of the river of bones and made his way on land safe-and-sound. He even had the chance of claiming a new sword and forced himself not to wonder whom it belonged to. Now he was in search of his convoy whom was nowhere to be found.

Alsin's determination to find everyone reduced to a flat line. He had come to the acknowledgment that he had to finish this quest alone without his comrades. He rose onto his feet and felt the wet breeze slice through his shirt. He gasped and rubbed his hand down the front of the white shirt he had chosen to wear beneath his armor.

"Where's my armor?" With wide eyes he scanned the blood sprinkled river for his gold and green breastplate. The only part of his armor he still wore was the bottom pieces and the belt and sword. He scratched in his matted gold hair and nodded.

"Yep. I've gone mad for sure," he muttered and carefully made his way out of the boney river.

Limping with great caution to prevent falling or another ounce of pain, he kept moving onward east. The temperature turned crispy informing him that he'd managed to make it through a few mountains. Just beyond the pile of mountains sat the cold snowbound region of Icebrine.

Eyes focused on his surroundings, he pondered between two decisions. He had no map, but he could tell by the aim of the sun he was still heading east. The witch's castle should be somewhere in these parts. Maybe there was a possibility of killing the witch even if death would be his end. His kingdom would be free of the curse and his victory would be unknown. At times to take a breather, he'd stare back west where his family dwelled. He gripped his collar and knocked his knuckles against his chest to loosen up the grip that had besieged it. Could a man die from a broken heart?

Sighing away his grief and homesickness, he treaded on. He tapped the hilt of his armsman's sword and thought about the dreams he had to ignore, the warnings his body was signaling. He couldn't feel his toes in his boots and an earthquake trembled inside of him. It was getting too cold. A fire and a short break would be good about now.

He approached a scattered pile of black rocks, a nice place to take a break. After about an hour's work of finding and collecting dry sticks, he slid down a rock's face to sit. Hands trembling, he managed to ignite a tiny flame. He cuffed a hand around it to prevent the icy wind from blowing it out. Thankfully, the fire grew stronger fulfilling Alsin's present lust for warmth.

He rubbed his right leg now growing stiff in its injury. He swallowed and squeezed his eyes closed worrying about dying by his injuries rather than nature. It was too cold for him to check his leg personally, but he could imagine his olive skin tainted in a bluish-purple, hours dwindling to amputation. A pinch now and then would rake his ribcage and chest, which worried Alsin greater. All he needed was a broken rib to puncture one of his major organs and he would be dead within minutes.

He glared up at the gray sky trying to picture the afterlife. After his mother's death he and his father barely visited the gods in the temple. It was as if they secretly blamed them for taking Aurora. Then there were his strange dreams of the old man cloaked in colors of Gamael and others, which he interpreted as stories given to him from the gods to put him at ease. Rather they easily assumed it was his imagination going wild, except when they found out the stories coincided with the holy books of the Voice of the Gods.

Now that he was so far away from home in a very dangerous place, guilt of not drawing closer to the Sovereigns pinched his nerves. He could very well die in Dawn's lair of the Dauntless and be sent to Berub's Abyss by a disapproving Khaal.

"Holy Khaal have mercy," he whispered only to have bile squirt into his mouth and airway forcing him into a violent cough. The icy wind grew visible into a mist that frosted gracefully on the sides of trees, grass, and brush.