I woke with a start. An evoking feeling that I've been inclined to experience time and time again since entering Overcast. It feels like a hammer. Or a an extra heavy mallet that's been crafted from sheer metal - dropped down onto my head without hesitation. The pounding only got worse when my eyes popped open, and my surroundings were anything from what I expected.
I was in a prison - that was an assumption - but judging by the black barred windows, the murky walls, and the unusual coldness that gusted through the cracks in the sealed-shut door; it was the most likely building for trapping an individual.
But why was I in here?
I remember being dazzled by visions of gold in Lark Umbra's kingdom. My eyes were weak (there was no questioning that) but surely a blast of colour couldn't damage you to the extent of passing-out.
Just as I made a valid attempt to move my body, It was only then I discovered that I was chained in secure place. My figure was sitting securely in the ground. My feet and my two boney arms were confined in metal cuffs. All I could do was shake myself senseless; listening closely to the rattling of the clacking chains.
'What is this madness?' I asked myself out loud. I'd never been in prison, never! There goes my clean record that Tarmonty adorned their happiness in. 'I've got to get out of here!'
Just when I thought insanity had officially greeted me, I laid my eyes on a mysterious figure at the door who responded to my self-talk abruptly. I couldn't concentrate on what it was saying, I was more confused on how it entered the door in such a silent way.
'You can't leave,' It said in a sinister manner. "You have been put here for a purpose. Your own good. Scravs' running around the area would be a calamity. We can't let one get away."
I recognised that tone immediately!
'Let me go, Lark!" I snapped back in an instant, shaking the chains. "I'm not a Scrav! I'm just a girl. Just a girl who wants to go home.'
Lark laughed in self pride. His belly jiggled like jelly as he scratched the hairs beside his embellished crown.
'Just a girl, you say?' He questioned. 'Oh I'm sure you must be much more than that, Serena.'
He was trying to make me question myself. I couldn't let him!
'I must say, you are a very sound sleeper,' he added.
'You!' I yelled out. 'You've been putting me to sleep. You've been making sure I don't tell too much to Astrid or Terry or Red before making me faint. You're a sick man, Lark.'
'That's very cynical of you, my dear. You're a very smart young lady, there's no denying.' He walked towards me so our eyes met closely. 'But as well as you are right you are very much wrong, too. There's a prophecy.'
'So now there's a prophecy,' I laughed. 'I can't wait to hear this one.'
'Oh contraire... you will.'
I sat back in my dress. Judging by the mellowed tone in Lark's voice, I had a feeling this talk was going to last longer than one would ever anticipate. Just as I thought he was going to start explaining, a wave of unconsciousness swept over me, and a deep, alluring vision - vivid in colour - opened up explicitly in my brain.
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YOU ARE READING
The Prime Of The Outcasts
Fantasy-REACHED #252 IN FANTASY ON 17/09/16- Credits: @Electrama for the cover! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Magic is not something that is out of our control. It lies within us, embeds itself deep inside our hearts and looks upon its master for directions". ~~~~~~...