Planebreakers of Torment

The Exit

Ganainm and Katsugi tried really hard not to scream. They failed. An ethereally black ribbon of chaos snaked beneath them, the Realm's ground growing more distant by the second. As the two hugged the ghostly creature's never-ending neck, the girl dared to look back.

All looked normal. The court of mushrooms loomed in the distance just as before, the Toad-Road kept winding across the landscape — seeming almost stationary from the height she was at — and the obelisk—

The obelisk. She focused her eyes on the black rock. Of course, the farther they got, the less she could see, but even from such a distance there were things to be observed. For one, the colossal stone's tone faded ever more quickly.

From a jet-black darker than the night itself, to finally a grey husk, a widdling imitation of what it had been. The blackness seeped out of the structure, as if being sucked out by gravity itself. For the obelisk dripped.

It dripped in darkness. The river it sat over — normal upriver, yet a black sludge below — now inhaled even more of the corruption. As the obelisk itself first greyed then whitened, the river looked to be washing away all the evil, the plague it had produced and accumulated. And once more, it was the victim who saved the bully.

Another thing the girl noticed, almost missing it though, was a tall, white line with a very reptilian head spiring towards the sky. With a loud roar, it then turned, having met the impenetrable sky and shot towards her.

Ganainm tried defending herself, but that meant letting go of the black dragon's neck. And she did not want to do that. When the bellow grew stronger, she simply closed her eyes, all her efforts and traumas, and hopes and just an everything rushing before her mind's eye. Then the roar stopped. No, not stopped. It had never been there. The girl opened her eyes, the Realm's sun blinding her.

All looked normal. The court of mushrooms loomed in the distance just as before, the Toad-Road kept winding across the landscape — seeming almost stationary from the height she was at — and the obelisk—

The obelisk wasn't there. The river below...well, the river, was now perfectly clean. It flowed gently and swiftly. The current blackened in the upstream, gently snaking through the landscape, only to then whiten towards the lowlands as it gained both momentum and space for all sort of manoeuvres.

The dragon's black tail whipped in the wind. The girl finally brought her sight back to towards where they were going. With each passing second, all three were inevitably approaching the black dot ominously hovering in the sky.

Or maybe it didn't hover at all. Maybe, it was exactly what they thought it to be. A hole. A way. An exit.

The dragon's black tail whipped in the wind. Then everything became black. The dark phantom of steed the pair had enjoyed disappeared completely when they entered the hole. They could only feel the fur and scales gently shifting below their own bodies. A loud bellow then came from before them.

Inside of the black hole there was quiet. And a moment later, a yellow sun.

The spectral dragon darted through the Forest. Ganainm and Katsugi alike closed their eyes, letting their own dimension's winds caress their struggled faces. Not winds of treachery, of bait, like the ones the girl met in the orchard. Genuine winds of honesty, with gusts of random kindness. Both of their muscles relaxed so much they nearly let go of the dragon.

The serpentine phantom was less and less real with every metre of land darting below them. At one point, even the leaves and branches started going through it. But it flew on. Determined, ghostly, and impossibly fast.

The creature then elevated its flight ever so slightly, with much less branches making up the journey and much more views. From that height, Ganainm could peer over the dragon's disappearing body and follow the Road as they went by. With her eyes only, of course. After that adventure she felt done with following it in any other way.

Then, a branch slashed her cheek. Not very much, only a thin, red line of crimson added to her visage. She noticed the dragon was gone. They somehow still flew, as if the creature kept helping them out of sheer spite or even contempt for the enchanted wood below.

As the flight lowered dramatically, Ganainm stared forward. Finally, over the horizon of trees something changed. First came the hills. Round, plump spots of circular green occupying a vastness in the distance. She swore she could hear a song coming from there.

The pair's feet were now brushing the Forest's tree's upper layer of leaves. But they persevered. They'd been told to hug the neck, and they'd hug the neck if the world would be about to collapse. Even when there was no neck to be hugged.

The two felt the godspeed carrying them further. Ganainm focused again, when something grey glinted far off. Her mouth fell just a smidge. The mountains. The Roaring Peaks, as she'd once heard them being called.

They looked like if one were to imagine a mountain range made out of needles. Tall, stone, terrifying needles. Spiring, almost stabbing the sky above—

The Forest's edge was close. And it was getting closer. At a speed none of the two was comfortable with. But, as they say, it's not the speed that matters, it's the landing. And it was exactly what mattered.