Beyond the Void

Chapter 27, I can't find them

The Age of Sin - lasted nine hundred and forty-seven years.

of Sin 6 - War between the Alyar and Humans erupts as the Humans slaughter an Alyar Prince and his entourage visiting the Iordurian capital. During the same year, the Iordurians created the Bloodied Arts, another branch of the Arcane Arts of the Flow. In the eyes of the Alyar, a sin against the natural order.

An excerpt from the diary of Pia...

ANDREW

One moon and two tens since the Mark of the Other One blossomed.

They were snowed in. It was still freezing and to make matters worse, a huge snowstorm had started the night Anna and Andrew reached their sanctuary. It had lasted for three days now.

They had used up all the wood in the room they were staying in as fuel for the fire. Anna was slowly bringing in stuff from elsewhere in the castle.

Andrew tried to help, but was still weak enough that all he could do was sit around and keep the fire going. His right arm was not entirely useless. As long as Andrew did not move his shoulder too much, the pain was bearable.

Anna had burned the wounds shut. She had used the flat side of a dagger she had been carrying with her. He had found out the following day as Andrew had been unconscious through the entire ordeal.

He was not sure if that had been a good idea or not. He would not bleed to death. Or would he? There was a lot Andrew wished he knew right now, about internal bleeding and such. It should have been all right. The bone spikes hit nothing important. The shoulder should heal without too much trouble.

However, the wounds had been deeper than he thought. The spikes had narrow tips, almost twice the length of the bit that had not penetrated his skin. They reminded Andrew of syringes. And this lack of energy did not feel right. It was only three small holes. How had these affected him so?

During the entire fight with the monstrosity, he had suffered no other injuries, no broken bones, nothing. Maybe a few bruises somewhere. But an inexplicably strong fever had risen, and his entire body was weak and tired.

At least they had fresh food once again. Anna had found the same chicken-like creatures that had lived in the gateway village. A small flock of them was hibernating somewhere deep inside the castle. It had been a simple enough job of grabbing one and twisting its neck. The process of cleaning and gutting it was as gruesome as always.

Except for the morning after, all this time, the two of them had been quiet. Andrew was feeling guilty, being injured, having someone take care of him. He did not like it.

Andrew tried exploring the castle, but was told to sit down and rest. He did feel nauseous and weak every time he stood up. But he felt just as bad constantly resting. Most of all, he felt restless.

The blizzard kept them trapped. Although every time he reached out, he could feel the others still where they had been the day before. This offered little assurance about their situation because once again there were no signs of the horrors that pursued them. Resting, keeping the fire going and watching the snow pile up in the broken windows.

"Stop doing that." Anna's irritated voice broke silence and startled Andrew.

"Doing what?" He stammered.

"You keep sighing, it's getting on my nerves."

"I'm sorry." Andrew looked away.

"And stop acting like that. Don't turn away like a punished dog every time I say something or twitch when I make a sudden move!" What was he supposed to say to that? "Are you possessed? When we were on the river, there were times when you were like a normal person. Confident and ready to take action. Now you cover and hide behind a wall of apologies and silence again."