Hellbeast

12

1184 words

•———————•

Horus had only ever teleported once- to get away from a certain mer. In that moment, he had felt nothing but a tingling sensation traveling down his spine. This time it was different. This time it was darker, and it took a lot longer for some reason. Horus soon found out that reason. Transparent faces with sunken black pits for eyes screamed hollowly at him, whispering unintelligibly. He would've screamed, moved away even though they surrounded him, anything- but he couldn't move.

Just as quick as the moment came, it was gone. He was standing in a dark alleyway, the streets empty and the hot wind warming his exposed skin. Horus shuddered and shuffled out of the tight spot, frowning. When he had left the mountains it was early day, this was the south of their continent, not halfway across the world. So why the hell was it dark? Had it really taken him so long to travel that long distance? Last time it had only taken a few seconds. Horus stared at the bright night sky. Just how long had he really been in that scary abyss of screaming shadows?

•———————•

Meanwhile in a forest located at the base of a particularly steep mountain range, stood a large red headed man, impatiently tapping his foot while his blue companion took absolutely forever to piss in those bushes located a few meters back. A rustle in those very same bushes alerted Mavic that his partner was finally finished with his business, and he spun around with a familiar scowl. Eris looked up sheepishly and revealed a giant disgustingly swollen leech stuck to his arm. "Sorry. I fell in a pond." The dragon's scowl hardened. "Aren't you a fish or something? Can't you tell it to let go via screeches and clicks or whatever you use to communicate?"

At this statement the mer reflected the dragon's brooding face right back at him tenfold. "I'm not a fish. I'm a mer. It's very rude to compare a fish to a mer Mavic." The redhead just stared down at him impassively and rolled his eyes. "Yeah whatever, let's just go." And with that, Eris ripped the leech off his arm elbow and threw it to the side, then went to retrieve his bag. Mavic looked up at the darkening sky. Earlier, the little apple core had started spinning wildly out of control in the river. It took several minutes for it to finally start pointing in a single direction. He stared down at the core and felt his jaw slack in disbelief. It was pointing south now. Something rustled in the bushes.

•———————•

It didn't take Horus very long to find a newspaper clipping with a date. He sighed in relief when he discovered it was still the same day. Pulling up his hood, he trudged down the wet brick road to a once empty field, now filled with snow and a single blossoming apple tree. The fields were empty, completely devoid of life. There were no birds, no hushed whispers from passerby's. Although the silence was unsettling, Horus found it to be more than welcomed after what was happening to him these past few months.

Hunkering down beneath his tree, he pulled out a map and began plotting new routes. The familiar heated magic flared from the roots of the tree and curled around his cold legs. Warmth soon enveloped him, and he could've been practically invisible to anyone walking by. Horus had never succeeded in reigning in his magic. He had tried countless times and failed, but he had never pushed himself nor had he gone searching for answers. He surveyed the familiar terrain and glanced back at his map. The edges were fading into a yellow, conveying to any stranger just how old it really was.

Horus traced his cold fingers against the fragile papyrus and shifted his attention to his pale fingers. Perhaps he should've invested in gloves this autumn, before winter had rolled in unforgivingly with its harsh winds. Instead, all he was left with was fingerless gloves, made of a dark leather, yet easily his favorite item of clothing. They belonged to his mother, as she had been an adventurous woman before settling down at her young age. Horus looked back at his map, intent on thinking of another way into the dead zone, when he was suddenly hit with a bought of fatigue. Fluttering his lashes and dropping his map, he instantly fell back against the sturdy trunk of the cursed apple tree. In a quickly deepening slumber one could only hope he'd stay in until four lords could find their way back to him.

•———————•

Somewhere far away, in a land riddled with pestilence and unrelenting rain, stood a man over a ball of light. Cracks began growing on the outside of the crystal orb, as the man desperately attempted to use his magic to see beyond the veil trapping him and his kind in this hellish scape. The glass shattered and he fell to his knees, a cry of pain erupting from his mouth as shards of what felt like ice embedded themselves into his arms. The doors were swung open, slamming into the walls and rattling on their hinges as several guards and servants rushed in to check on their master. Arms outstretched to help their savior were met with a dismissive wave. A woman clad in black rushed through the crowd and knelt beside her brother.

The entourage of people left the room, closing the door quietly as to not disturb the siblings, but not without a few worried glances being cast back. The metal doors finally shut with finality and the room was quiet. The man's body shook as his sister pushed him back to sit against the wall. She proceeded to grab multiple medicinal items from a nearby cabinet and sat beside him. With silence filling the room, she worked confidently on repairing his bleeding and torn arms. "I was so close. I reached him and he looked terrified." The man's voice cracked with uncertainty. "I don't want to scare him but what can I do? He's the only hope our people have. I'm the only one that can reach him."

With an enraged look upon her face, he saw his sisters fury, agonizing and raw. She did not need to speak to convey her anger. She did not need to speak to tell him that they could find another way, that he didn't need to waste away in order to save a kingdom he never asked to be his own. But she also didn't need to speak to now that he was an unrelentingly kind man, with enough consideration shown to his people that she could never hope to have him show to himself. So silently and diligently, she sewed the cuts strewn across his bloodied arms and dared to pray to the gods that had abandoned them, that one day her brother and her would live past this punishment ruled upon her people, and see the cloudless sky for just once.