Halfblood

Chapter 8

The fog grew thicker the closer we got to the twin peaks, the gatekeepers as they were called. The lonely sentinels which marked the border between the land of the spirits and that of the living. Tall and bare they stood over the land, two dark silhouettes in the mist. Everfog and Deathsbane. The guardians of dreams and spirits. Otherwise known as the slopes of sorrows. And Spectrum wanted to spend the night there? Either I  had a crazy dragon on my hands, or there was a hidden motivation involved that I needed to discover.

What makes you think it may be here? Nothing lives on these slopes. I shudder at the cold wind coming off the mountains. We should probably ch-ch-check somewhere else.

No! The dragon nearly screamed the word. It could be here, hiding in the ruins. Nevertheless he slowed a lot, almost coming to a standstill. What if the halfblood is half spirit? Then it could perfectly well be hiding here somewhere.

Even if there is somehow a halfblood in this world regardless of my negligence in writing one yet, I have a feeling it would not be half spirit. This was not technically true I just vehemently hoped it wasn't so that we didn't have to go there. It was called the land of nightmares for a reason, and writing it was enough for me to not want to ever experience it in person.

Kardmis, the spirit mage. And the main antagonist of rough draft number 12, which if I remember correctly took place after Spectrum had already faded and focused on him finding his way back to his world to  address the problem at hand.

Kardmis was one of my most powerful antagonists, with no known weaknesses and nearly unlimited spirits to command. He made Spectrum's story a living, (or rather dying) hell. And now we were headed straight to his lair.

According to your mind, I hate the fact that my adventuring partner can read my thoughts. There is as much of a chance for the creature we seek to be there as anywhere else. You simply do not wish to admit this fact because you are scared of the area. And you are scared because of a villain whom if I remember correctly, has already been killed.

Not killed I shake my head remembering that scene. Just locked into his own dungeon.

Well, he should have de-energized by now. I threw away the key.

Should have and has are two very different things. I shudder and shake my head as we come to a landing on a smooth stone surface. The area still reeked of dark magic.

I  was in an open hall with a partially collapsed roof. Slabs of irregularly shaped stone lay cracked and scattered across the ground, and the area was surrounded by stone pillars in various states of disrepair some still stood tall and supported roof sections, others cracked even more than they already were as I stared at them. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light that filtered through the wet mist that drenched my skin, I took in more and more details.

I saw the whips hanging from the pillars. I eyed a table full of various blades. An iron ring in every third pillar caught my attention, and I felt the heavy iron chains fastened to some of them. In one corner of the space I saw a device which I knew was a rack, meant for the same purpose as the other unfamiliar items and contraptions which I saw scattered about; torture. I know where we are. This is Kardmis's torture chamber, and the area used for public executions.

Why was it outside like this? Spectrum's tail swished impatiently against my leg as he waited for an answer.

Loud screams jumped into my head, dead faces filled my vision.. The nightmares I had after writing this place and villain were returning. Because he was a depraved mind who thought he should let the screams of his victims be carried on the wind as an example of why you should never cross him. He was twisted too twisted.

I feel the air around me get colder as I speak. He is nearby. I just know it.

Spectrum. I call out to the dragon, but he doesn't respond. The mist is getting thicker, closing in around me as I frantically look around for him. But it's no use.. if I could barely see my fingers when I stretched my hands out in front of me, how could I expect to find a dragon who was definitely further away than that, especially when said creature was the exact same color as the fog I now peered through. It was no use. I was alone.

Not alone, my dear. A low, raspy whisper sounded in my ear. How can you be alone when I am here?

Kardmiss. He must have heard what I said about him. And there was no dragon around to protect me. To put things quite plainly, I was good as dead and probably would be dead soon. So I did what any logically sound person would do in that situation. I screamed.

Stop that silly noise. I feel a slight prick in my skin and know that there is now the tip of a knife resting right behind my left ear. There's no one around here to save you. So if you want this to go quickly, then I suggest you be quiet now.

But his voice makes me shudder. I do not take kindly to those who make fun of me.

A lump formed in my throat and I stopped screaming. Spectrum would come and save me. I knew he would. As a matter of fact, I could hear him right now.

But he wasn't coming towards me. I didn't see him emerge out of the mist, nor did I hear him yelling at Kardmis to let me go. He was only saying one thing and his voice was fading off into the distance.

"Mother.... Father. Come back. Don't go. Wait for me!"

"Spectrum!" Something in my snapped and next thing I knew I was racing through the mists towards his voice, Kardmis's knife in hand.

It was a dark and deadly weapon with a bloodstained bone handle and a long cruelly curved blade, also red with the blood of his victims.

But it was not this that bothered me. I knew where Spectrum was headed, where his 'parents' were going. They were headed to the land of lost souls. And from that land, none had been known to return.

"Spectrum! Stop. Those are just illusions! Please... listen to me."

But he played me no heed, rushing after his family in long strides.

"Stop! Don't you understand that if you go there, you'll die?" I raced after him, but I was too slow. My hand scraped against the edge of the stone just as he flew off the edge of the mountain.