OathBlade (Wattys2015)

11. Lost In The Dark*

Stinging pain along the side of Elery's face filtered through the haze of unconsciousness as she opened her eyes. Pink and green phosphorescent grettlemoss swathed the rocky ceiling overhead. Water dripped somewhere nearby. She raised her hand to her face, wincing as her fingers touched raw flesh.

Memory of the encounter with the strange seryn came back and she sat up.

She was alone.

Her sword lay just a few steps way and she groaned with the effort it took to stand. How far had she fallen? Why was there no opening above?

Where is everyone?

A deep howl rumbled down the wide, lengthy tunnel and she sighed with a modicum of relief. " Dakkan!"

The howl resounded again and she walked forward to retrieve her sword.

"Cylphi? Zethir, Taelin!" She placed a hand against the jagged stone wall and closed her eyes.

"El-ry?"

"Cylphi! Where are you?"

The girl answered but it was distorted and weak. Completely unintelligible. Elery frowned and started to walk forward, splashing through placid puddles of murky water and clumps of mud.

She drew closer to the source of the dripping and stopped. A thick crack ran across the roof of the tunnel. Water trickled from the sides to the center of the fissure to drip in a puddle on the floor. Smells of stale water and moss dominated the air.

The tunnel was more than three times her height and equally as wide. As another howl echoed through the cavernous passage she turned her head to try and catch the direction from which it came. "If anyone can hear me, call out!"

Voices rang from various distances, with Dakkan's sounding closest. She turned and ran, splashing through mud and stagnant water that coated her boots in filth. Some voices grew more distant. Taelin's went mute.

The tunnel opened into a vast expanse and she stumbled as light flooded the cavern. She brought her arms up to her eyes to shield them. A dull ache throbbed behind her eyes.

"Father, why are they doing that?"

The voice bolted through Elery's body and she lowered her arms.

The vast fields of Lyewryn stretched around her and a breeze swept her hair. Loose strands lashed before the wind allowed them to settle.

Soldiers stood around a funeral pyre, their fists to their chest, while a child of five summers stood beside her father. His hand was clasped between both of hers. Her dusky golden hair bobbed and shook as she pulled at his arm.

"Father, why are they burning Uncle and the other soldiers?"

"Because they have passed, Elery." He scooped her up to hold her with one strong arm as they watched the pyre crack and spit. "Their time with us is done."

She shook her head. Her horns, bare stubs, did not hold her hair back as they would when she grew. It fluttered around her face and she sobbed. "But if you burn them, they'll disappear!"

"We are freeing them, precious." He raised a hand and settled her hair, then pressed his lips to her forehead. "Long ago we buried our dead. We did not wish to erase them from this world, but our loved ones became pawns of the ghastly necrocasters. They raised their corpses from the land and used them to attack our homes." He pointed to the pillar of smoke. "Now we honor them by sending them to the land of the homeland gods. They ride the pillar high, beyond our sight, to begin a new life. One day, I shall go there, as well."