Shadow's Advent

Chapter Four

The clicking of the claws and weapons echoed throughout the emptiness of Trilibela's docks. Snowless ice glistened off the brick buildings, icicles dripped from the edges of their roofs. Many of buildings though-boat houses, stores-had crumbled into rubble, fallen under the weight of the ice. Boats sat trapped in the frozen sea, unmoving, still anchored to the platforms, waiting for their day of work or pleasure. The wind, oddly warm, whistled between the houses and shops as though it flowed through the tunnels of a cavern. The heavy silence smothered the docks.

Approximately a mile back, the cliff that held the second level rose hundreds of feet into the air, its surface smoothed out by the transparent ice. Great tubular machines sat on train rails that moved up the cliff, connecting the docks and second level. The machines were covered in something transparent. Whether it is glass or ice, no one could say.

The most shocking were the people. Bodies littered the houses, storefronts, even hanging off the docks themselves, vainly attempting to escape what had cursed them, even in death. They came from all races of Atheran; elves, tarhyn, dwarves, and dragons, although most of them were the latter. Frozen to the ground, fear still etched into their crystallized faces.

The group stood, taking in the heart-sinking sights. Dread consumed them as the empty aura of the city became more relevant. No evil, no pain, no sadness. Just...emptiness.

"This is...Trilibela?" Kytheran asked. His face had lost color; his eyes sunk into their sockets, lips pulled into a tight thin line. His body tightened, pulling him into a sickened stance.

"Are you all right?" Aaralynn placed a gentle hand on his arm. "You don't look too good."

He looked at her and then turned towards Caraka. She didn't look much better. Her already pallid skin seemed to lose what little color it had. Her arms were tightly woven across her stomach.

A groan escaped Cipher's lips.

"What's wrong?" Aaralynn said. "Why do they look so sick?"

The goddess cringed. "I knew this was a bad place to meet."

"What do you mean?" The elf felt her stomach churn.

"Can you not feel it? Death would be welcome to this place." Cipher's lip twitched. "A place that once represented life. How ironic."

Aaralynn looked back out towards the city. "I heard stories of this place. It was the capital, the center of the Driginis Empire. It was the center of everything on Atheran. Life, as you said."

"Can we stop with the talking? Maybe if we walk, they will stop talking," said Caraka.

"Who?" asked Aaralynn. The elf wrapped her arms around herself tightly. She looked back out towards the mists, her eyes wide.

"The spirits," Kytheran whispered. He cracked his knuckles and writhed his hands. He stared down at his bone white knuckles.

Cipher blinked. "Spirits? What spirits? I don't hear anything."

"The spirits of the people. I-I think they are tainted. They sound tainted." Caraka bit her lip.

Cipher slowly walked over to Caraka, "What are they saying?" she asked slowly.

"T-They are..." she trailed off.

"They are describing how they are going to tear us limb from limb and watch our guts splatter on the ground," said Kytheran weakly, "They can't do that, can they?"

Cipher placed her hand on the back of her neck. "No. They can't hurt us. Though what concerns me is what made them so hostile." She started off towards a clear street.