It was time to meet Rorik and Arik again.
Except, maybe not. Kaara figured that it would be much better if she helped out around camp with the festivities. After stopping by Tiksu, she got a laundry list of tasks she could preoccupy herself with for the day. Gathering Ingen fruit that had fallen around the forest, hunting wild game, hanging up effigies for the ritual, weaving beads and cloth in intricate patterns to hang as decorations, and helping to cook for the multi-week feast that started tomorrow.
It was always easier to discuss things when there was food around anyways, so Kaara could always do it tomorrow. After all, the day was already done, so it’s not like she could bother the two of them with the information now.
She went to bed, tossing and turning about, trying to sleep. Tomorrow she would definitely tell them. She would make sure they knew, and they would be okay with it because they were her good friends.
But what if they didn’t? What if telling them made them afraid of the ritual? On the other end, if they didn’t know in advance, they wouldn’t be prepared. Maybe if she had told them earlier she could have avoided this situation, but now they were only a couple weeks removed from the Siren’s Night when all the children her age gathered to hunt their first Malaki.
What if something happened to her, or Arik, or Rorik? Would they feel betrayed knowing she had kept a secret from them? Would they blame her if one of them died during the Siren’s Night?
Kaara didn’t know when she had drifted off to sleep, but she knew she was sleeping when all of her racing thoughts became a jumbled mess of words and random phrases. She found herself in that cold gentle place once more.
Floating in a distant and dark void, her hand a streak of pure glowing white which shifted and smeared in the inky abyss. She wanted to wake up, but she couldn’t remember the world she would wake up to.
The crying, emaciated figure that usually inhabited the dream was no longer here. Maybe this wasn’t the correct dream?
The abyss gave way to a dimly lit area. She was walking through the forest nearby her camp, her bare feet leaving no trail in the snow. For some reason, she didn’t want to be followed.
She saw the figure, its eyes a swarm of scribbling black lines. A horrid display of teeth with its face in perpetual anguish. Meager horns sprouted from its head, its skin hanging loose off of its bone. It was vaguely masculine. Almost handsome in a way. Like a rose which had wilted and withered.
Kaara stood there as he shambled away, the crunching of snow getting quieter and quieter until she was left in the cold silence. Why hadn’t she followed it?
Maybe it was because she knew the closer she tried to get, the further it pushed her away. So she stood frozen in place.
Kaara looked to the sky, watching as the snow drifted down. It was a familiar- almost nostalgic- feeling.
What did it all mean? Seeing ghosts, having these nightmares, and her curse.
She grit her teeth, her hand squeezing the bone shaft of a spear she didn’t remember grabbing. She walked forward in the direction that figure had left. Would it be afraid to see she had a weapon now? She didn’t want to use it.
She didn't know how long she walked, or where she was. She saw the swaying effigies overhead, but their ropes no longer held them aloft. They looked like phantoms. Vague horrid creatures of the night who now encircled her.
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She saw their heads turn to stare at her, those same chaotic eyes all plastered over their doll-like faces.
She could see Rorik and Arik. Tulos, Tadios, Deka, Amaro, Sancta, Raktus, Anitus, and everyone else.
She couldn’t see herself.
Not until she turned around to see it standing right behind her. A smooth surface over where her eyes should have been, and a terrible grin with far too many teeth.
She didn’t know why, but she ran from it. She ran from herself. The twisted version of herself who always faked a smile just to put others at ease.
Her foot caught on something beneath the snow, sending her tumbling down.
It wasn't cold in the snow. In fact, she couldn’t feel anything. If anything it was warmer under the snow.
What had she tripped over? She got up, and swiped her hand, lifting the snow away with her magic. Staring back at her, a mangled face without eyes. Kaara let out a hoarse gasp, unable to scream as she dropped the snow back overtop of it. She looked around, noticing the marks of a struggle. Gashes in the trees made with blades, the blood which had long since browned on its bark like sap.
The wind spoke in whispers, the trees letting out low distorted groans as they swayed in the breeze. Maybe it was the profane chorus of effigies swinging from their branches?
Kaara swallowed, shaking her head. It wasn’t real, this was another nightmare. She’d wake up soon. But the biting cold told her that she wasn’t asleep. She lifted a shaking hand, peeling back the snow once again, tears welling up at what she saw.
A xiozian mangled and flayed open like a trout. The snow directly around it was saturated in deep crimson, its innards dull and frozen.
Did she know who they were?
She dared to look upon the xiozian’s face, their mouth agape, frozen in eternal terror.
No, this person had died a long time ago, and Kaara didn’t know who this was. Rather, she couldn’t tell. This person's face was nothing but coagulated blood and bone.
What had done this? She'd seen other animals mangled before, but never a xiozian, and not like this. It was so brutal and yet calculated. The face, tongue, throat, and eyes were missing, presumably eaten. But why leave the rest of the body? There was a hole in their spine, and their heart had been neatly cut to shreds. Their knuckles were bloodied suggesting they'd been punching and struggling against whatever had attacked them. Maybe even still living whilst being mutilated.
This could only be the work of a Malaki. Were they still nearby?
From the corner of her eye, she saw a glint of gold pass behind a tree.
Just like with grandma and grandpa. Maybe it’s their soul?
She dashed over to where she saw it,“Wait!”
She saw it again in the corner of her eye. Kaara could only just barely keep up with it. Her huntress instincts kicking in as she treated the ghost like her most elusive prey. Over trees, through deep snow, and dead bramblewood. She ran and ran, ignoring the effigies which cast their haunting eyes upon her.
She came upon a cave, its deep mouth so dark she could only see a few feet into its inky blackness. The ghost was stopped at the entrance, its form seeming to be slowly sucked in by the cave’s hungry maw. The golden light leaked into the cave’s infinite dark and vanished completely.
Kaara approached, but her body stopped her before she could get within arms reach of it. The ghost turned its head to her, its face smooth and featureless.
The skin around its mouth split into a jagged grin, showing off row upon row of needlepoint teeth. It raised one of its only unbroken fingers up.
Cruuunch! CRUNCH! CRUNCH! SNAP!
Bone by bone, it seemed to get elation from its pain, each knuckle broken backward made that vile grin spread open wider.
A brush of wind and snow obscured its form and It vanished from sight, leaving her alone to stare into the void of the cave’s entrance.
It beckoned her, and she could not help but move toward it. One slow pacing step at a time. She could feel her breath being sucked into it. Her courage, her happiness, her kindness.
Her innocence.