(OR The Cold Definitely Bothers Me)
When they told her
how the winds would sometimes blow inland over the frozen Greater Sea,
and bring with it a dens fog, and the souls of those who’d died upon it’s waters,
she’d felt her heart stop. As a child, she’d witnessed her mother
send a group of men into a Storm of Souls, a vortex created when the
dead at the bottom of the sea sensed the living and wished to add to
their numbers… or take their place.
The Storm had appeared near a newly sunken ship just off the coast of her mother’s south-most outpost, The men had been hired at a local dive where the pour and those trying to feed their families would take dangerous jobs. Ten in all, they ranged in age from sixty to seventeen, and while they shied away from her mother at first, the need of money, brought on by her mothers high taxes and a recent war between her and another nation near the equator, was greater than their fear.
She’d been pulled from the memories by her sister’s insistence they head for shelter. Packing what they needed for the long night ahead, they moved quickly to the hidden room at the center of the fortress. As she let Tristan lead her, her mind returned to that horrid night…
As they’d approached, her mother told the
men she needed eyes closer to the storm. After they departed, She’d told Lucinda they were
bait.
She’d sent a spelled bottle saying it could protect them if need be… but only one of them. The boat was lifted into the air, dumping all but the seventeen year old into the ocean. A flash of light and the storm dissipated. The boat bobbed up and down as it struck the water; she’d watched the boy raise his shaking hand with the empty bottle and the storm descended. Soon, the whole of it was captured inside the glass structure, and her mother had the now silent boy brought aboard her ship.
As they passed in front of a set of windows, Lucinda felt her body go rigid. An icy pressure closed around her heart and then pulled her towards the glass. She stared out into the night, feeling the creeping cold of death grow closer and closer….
Once ashore, the boy handed her the glass bottle and whispered,
“My father wanted you to take it. He said you weren’t like your mother.”
As soon as her hand closed around the glass, the same icy pressure clutched her heart and drew her quickly towards dry land. Her mother realized too late what she was doing, as Lucinda raised the glass prison above her head and smashed it against a heavy stone. The storm burst forth, only to wane as the drowned souls were drew down to dry land. One by one, the spirits vanished, the last ones to leave being the men her mother had sacrificed.
She
blinked as the whispers reached her ears; the large expanse of empty
tundra, twinkling in the light of a full moon, slowly filled with the bank of pale fog, blown in from the distant shore. She heard an odd sound
and stepped back to look down the hall: frost covered the
windows as the fog spread across the land, the sound of
nails and bare bone fingertips scratching at the glass soon following. She
turned in time to see a small boy’s blue-tinged face looking into the
window. He breathed out, and the frost covered the window.
She
almost screamed when Tristan grabbed her arm, “Lucinda we have to go. They’ve arrived a lot faster than we anticipated.” He said.
“B-but the… the boy…” she whispered.
Tristan placed his hand on the side of her face, “Anyone outside right now is already dead. Even you can sense it.”
She felt the pressure around her heart grow, like the crushing weight of the ocean. Tristan growled and turned his left eye to the windows,
“She’s mine!“ He roared.
Lucinda gasped as her knees buckled and Tristan caught her against him.
“Just as I’m yours.” He whispered. Half carrying her, he rushed towards the hidden room, the door held open by his father.
Lucinda…
Lucinda paused as her limbs turned to lead again and glanced behind her to see the boy’s face passing through the wall. followed swiftly by a tall, dangerously thin body that looked like a child’s skin stretched over an adult’s skeleton. The boy’s head smiled, his face splitting to reveal a mouth full of sharp teeth, before twisting so it’s cold, dead eyes stared right at her.
Lucinda… it said, the dead see you… you’ll never be free of us necromancer…
She felt another set of hand on her shoulders, and another shout,
“My sister is not yours to claim!”
Together, Tristan and Natasha pulled her inside, the wave of the frost the creature threw in their wake stopped at the threshold. The
hidden door slammed shut behind them, Lucinda collapsed into her sister’s arms as Tristan placed himself between the door and her back.
“Why?” Lucinda asked, “Why do they always seek me out?”
Natasha shook her head, “I don’t know. But you’re not alone in this. We’ll figure something out.”
*******
Better… had to fix this.. also hoping it’s not too disjointed…
***********
@zarcake-writes @inumorph @terato-imagines @momolady @howtobangyourmonster @catywampous @karanthos
MonstersinBlackSilk 