A room, dark and shadow consumed, seemed to hold a stench of old papers and worn leather. Windows that went all the way to the ceiling gave the view of a large broken city. Bookshelves run along the walls, holding thousands of old and tearing books. A desk sat on top of a platform raised to appear as though it were a throne of some nature. Nothing living resided in the room.
A bang sounded somewhere else inside the home, next came a crash. The sounds kept getting closer, working their way through the winding halls making up the mansion. A new sound could be heard, a scream of a human. Soon more screams joined the first, coming now from the rooms just down the hall from the study. Just as it seemed the screams would never end, they suddenly cut off abruptly. An eerie silence droned throughout the whole mansion. But it ended when the door of the study burst open, creeking on its hinges. For a split second not a sound was issued. Then the heavy falls of footsteps brought the silence to a standstill as a slim dark figure entered the room.
The figure wore a cloak that shimmered when the person moved, making it shift and spin with each turn or step. From the deep drone of the footsteps one would estimate that the person wore also some thick, strong boots. The person continued their way up the steps leading up onto the platform. Cloak bellowing behind them, they reached the desk. The person began to yank open drawers and scattering papers. They were searching for something, but what? No one knows. But hopefully someone, with a little bit of help from some friends, can figure it out. Now, only to find someone with those attributes in the city of Venice.
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"What are you doing? You can't go in there! Fallan!" a young man yelled, shaking his head in irritation. Another boy– Fallan– strode toward an abandoned house a few flicks away. Its sides were cracked and had vines stretched along it from top to bottom. The roof wasn't really a roof, more like a giant net of ready-to-crash-done stone. Fallan wasn't the anxious, and worried-at-every-moment kind of boy. He was only fourteen but that was old enough for him.
Bord was a whole different case, he was Fallan's only brother. He was older than Fallan by one year and he used that to his full advantage. Right now he was trying to use it to get Fallan away from that crumbling building.
"Fallan! You come here! Do you know what the Scibs will say if they found you here?"
Scibs were the wise men of their tribe. They gave you rules and expected everyone to give them something back in return. They were pretty much the most stuck-up, overly prideful, obnoxious Scibs in the Spectrum Land. And Fallan loved to bring them down a notch.
"Fallan, Come back!" Bord yelled again, his voice barely a croak. He didn't know how to get Fallan away from the building. "Fallan, Please!" Nothing was working. Bord was getting desperate, he had to get Fallan and hurry back before the tribe noticed they were gone. Oh why did he ever agree to take the annoying fourteen-year-old dumping? He was going to get them both killed!
Fallan ignored the hoarse yells from behind him. He continued toward the building, taking his time, one step at a time. He knew Bord wouldn't follow him anywhere.
First: Because he always had to scout the area (and grumble about a billion things that was wrong with this plan)
Second: Because he was a coward (and was afraid of everything)
Third: Because.... He just didn't care enough about Fallan to.
He made his way to the only opening that wasn't looking suspiciously like it was waiting for someone to walk on through so it could fall on them. Heading inside, he found the whole place covered in bones. Human bones that littered the floor, hung from shackles bolted to the wall, and hung with ropes around their necks to the ceiling. Bile rose into Fallan's throat, coating his mouth and making him gag. He felt sick, looking around at all the death that had taken place here. Backing up a few steps, he staggered away and out of the building. He practically ran back to Bord and safety.
Now, he wasn't usually someone who would have fled a bloody scene. He could usually stomach a lot of gruesome things many people couldn't. But that didn't mean there wasn't an extent to what he could handle. The tribe thought that the weaker the stomach the weaker the warrior. And if a warrior was weak then that meant death, because no Scib was going to tolerate a weak warrior in the tribe. Everyone then knew to force themselves to look at things normal beings could not. Because not everyone wanted to die.
Bord was still screaming when Fallan jumped the cobble fence separating the building from the rest of the big bad world. After a lecture that Fallan had heard a million times–and hated with every breath– the two hurried back to the tribe. Jumping the wooden fence, crawling past the Silent One (the being that is always asleep), and sneaking past the faithful guards and into the camp. Once safely back in their tent, Fallan closed his eyes and dreamed the dream that had always welcomed him when the rest of the world had gone to sleep.
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'Fallan...' a voice whispered, resonating throughout the flat empty expanse. 'Where are you? Why don't you respond?' It sounded familiar to the fourteen-year-old, like an old tune that never left you, even if you had heard it years ago.
'Fallan.... I love you...... Come to me' It muttered. Something like a gentle breeze hugged Fallan, making him feel warm and loved. 'Fallan...Why do you ignore me? Don't you love me?' The eerie voice cried softly, sadness dripping from the words like water from a facet. "But I'm right here! I never ignored you! You just won't listen!" the boy raged. Why couldn't the voice hear him? He was standing right here. 'Fallan.... Where have you gone?' The voice whispered, sounding further away. 'Fallan... Fallan... Fallan?" With every whispered word the voice seemed to draw further away. Bounding forward, Fallan chased after the invisible being that reminded him of home. Hoping that it wouldn't disappear, wouldn't vanish with no trace. He wanted answers, wanted some sort of certainty to grab hold and give him a peace of mind.
"Don't go...Please... I'm right here... Come back!" He begged desperately, stumbling through a thick patch of mud. 'Fallan... Fallan... Fallan...?' the voice whispered, like a mantra, growing further away. The mud was sucking him in, holding Fallan in place. He flung himself forward in a desperate act of escape, clawing at the ground in rage and sorrow. 'Fallan... Why did... you leave? I... never... left... you' With those last words, the world turned black.
