In Lost Dreams the Four Were Bound

17 - Nerin - Nightmares and Plotting

"Neris!" a small, petulant voice cried out around him as Nerin stumbled through the darkness of a maze of stalagmites and toothy crevasses.

A child called after his sister, its voice small and annoying to his perfect black hound ears. Wherever they were, he would find them and set them straight, and then he would find his sister and escape the haunted tunnels. If only he could see properly, he would have prevailed by now. But all was not lost. In front of him, he saw a glowing green wisp, a herald of his powerful master. Through it, he would find his way and return with his sister to their kingdom.

[This way,] the hissing voice of his great adviser whispered, the green orb dancing around a corner of jagged stone.

The path was uneven and littered with rocky debris, but he did not falter. He was trained, muscular, agile, and careful. His senses were acute, his every move well planned. The damp stones and loose rubble would not trick him as he skirted the corner. With his red eagle eyes, he spied the dancing flame hovering above the ground in the distance. With spite in his breast, he pushed forward, the rocks around him rippling as if possessed.

"Neris!" the boy cried again. Nerin turned to look behind him but spied no one. Then the cry came from in front. "Neris, where are you?"

Blood pumping, he raced toward the light. No one would reach his sister before him. As he got to the flame, a tremor ripped through the cavern. Rocks rained down on his head. He shook his black mane free of debris, huddling near the bright green sprite until the rumbling stopped. Readying to stand, his eyes caught a glimpse of something strange. Beneath the soundless flame, he spied something buried in the wet dirt. Without another thought, he dug his hands around the object, pulling it free from the mud.

It was a silk-garbed poppet. Blackened wood made up its body while moldy rope strung the thing together. In one of its hands was a small wooden lance made of stained white oak. Atop its head was a mixture of dried resin and tufts of black hair not unlike his. The childish implement disgusted him, but as he went to drop it, a whiff of his sister's hair rose from it. Just then he heard scurrying down another passage, the green wisp near him transporting down the tunnel in a flash. Near it he saw small black limbs skirt the side, the light disappearing with the child.

"Neris!" the child called, the cave ringing with his tiny voice.

"Come back here!" Nerin commanded, yet the boy did not abide.

[Hurry, my young master. This way. Hurry! We're almost there.]

The air was thick with dust and mold. The tunnel walls swayed with his vision as he forced himself downward. He would not let anyone have his sister. All around him, tiny voices urged him onward. He needed to reach her before it was too late. Just a little farther, and she'd be safe.

Rounding corner after corner, dizzy from the endless winding, crawling, and slipping past rocky outcrops and slippery patches, Nerin reached the maze's end. There the boy stood, looking away as Nerin crept up behind him.

"Neris, I found you!" the boy shouted, his black talvuo ears rising from beneath his dirty black hair. Walking forward, the boy was unaware of all else.

"Nerin!" His sister's angelic voice reverberated through the halls as she cried for him.

[Stop him!] a thousand voices screamed.

He couldn't wait any longer. Rushing forward, he grabbed the boy from behind and threw him into the wall. With bloodlust in his eyes, he watched the little black frame of the talvuo boy shrink against the wall as he fell into a fetal position. The child groaned and spat blood from his bruised face. With a sharp kick, Nerin sent the boy spiraling on the floor, coughing and gasping for breath.