The Girl of Ossetia

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Through the darkness she had fallen, tumbling, clawing desperately for support. A million regrets rushed through her as she flailed at an unknown rate through whatever was around her – which was the years meshing by in a black whip. With an abrupt pull of her body, she lay on the floor of this blackness, shaking sheepishly. Nausea spasmed in the pit of her stomach as she swayed upward, blinking although it was perfect blackness around her.

She turned several times around, calling for Nuae, pausing and straining to listen, with nothing but an eerie wet drip that rang out from some distance away. She cursed herself a thousand times over for agreeing, and began to run in a random direction, yelling out frantically. Her heart began to thrum wildly in her chest the further she ran with no change in the oily blackness.

She turned when suddenly a pinprick of light flashed far back the way she had ran from – or what she assumed was. She gulped before leaping into a sprint for it, she hardly noticed whenever her feet began to slap on something wet as the light grew larger, but was still rather dim. The air around her became frigid, and before she knew it, watery images began to form around her, and the breath was sucked right from her as she burst into a scene. She violently shoved herself to a cornered-prey stop, staring wide-eyed around her.

She was in a dank cave, lit with waxy candles, which littered the wet, stony walls. The opening of the cave was some feet away, gaping open to the night, in which a hideous snow storm was occurring. At the sight, her body jerked at the cold gusts. She looked at the small round table surrounded by 2 women, one very familiar, the other older and frail looking. They both huddled over something Arrana could not quite make out, realizing they did not and would not notice her, she carefully moved closer. Just then, the Nuae spiraled up from the ground silently. Her face grave as she looked at her old, alive self.

Arrana studied the alive version of The Seer, whom was thin and tall, her skin fare and face lean just the same as her spirit self was. Her hair was long and ash blond, features all the same, just much more lively. The only thing that had not changed with her death was her eyes, which at the moment had flickered closed.

Arrana looked over at the spirit Nuae as the women began to murmur gently at the small bowl of silver looking water at the center of the table.

“What are they doing?” She whispered, looking back down at them.

“You will see.” That was all she had to offer, before she drifted silently back into the flickering shadows of the cave, her form dimming to just a pale mist. Arrana slowly turned her attention back onto the murmuring women, whose lips had begun to tremble, fingers began to tap. She felt nervous now, but did not dare look away. Just as the silver water had begun to ripple, the frail old woman stopped in her quivering and just sat still. Nuae jerked violently, before she stopped suddenly, and slowly leered face down into the silver water. Arrana, in horror, let out a hideous gasp. Every bone in her, every ounce of her brain told her to rip her out, that she was surely going to drown, yet she knew there was no point, this was history.

She watched as the woman, awkwardly crumpled with her face down into the silver water, her ash blonde hair falling across the table. Agonizing amounts of minutes went on, and the only noises was the distant howling arctic winds, and the whispers of the shadows upon the cave walls. A rapid movement made Arrana jump and press herself against the wax covered walls. Nuae had slammed her hands down against the table, face still submerged, when her back arched in agony, and a very loud, yet muffled scream echoed throughout the cave and shook the very bones in Arrana. She cowered back, one after one the candles blew out, and of the hundreds of them, only one remained, which was on the table. Her heart beat so fast she could no longer hear the howling winds or the whispers of shadows. She clutched the stony crag, raggedly breathing as Nuae slowly pulled her silhouetted face from the bowl, silver coils detaching themselves and falling back in liquid form. She sat back in the chair slowly, and the old woman’s eyes flicked open.