The depths of fear often swallow even the largest of men, as the sea swallows even the largest of ships if there is but a hole, a gap for which the water to rush in and swiftly steal a piece of the world away to its abyss. A man needs only a small tenderness, a weak place in his heart. And forces which he know not of, nor which he can control will flood into him and steal from him his own volition, and initiative.
The moment of this terrible happening, this loss of one's control of the self, can set upon the unprepared at any moment. A bump in the night, a shadow in the doorway, a face appearing behind closed eyes, and not knowing his weakness a man can sink into despair and become nothing more than a desperate beast.
The world at large is no friend to men in such a state, it will often play games with them, tricks of light and shadow will reach out to the eye and form hideous shapes which are too frightful to appear fully in the world. Noises that seemed benign and harmless seconds ago, morph with sudden clarity into sinister calls. The trumpeting of evil before it manifests.
Of course, these traps of the mind which hold a man in place, wide-eyed and without thought only last briefly, but it does not take long for a person to lose everything. All that they care for and everyone who cares for them can be lost in mere seconds under cataclysmic conditions, which are in many ways rare but not unheard of. Briefly then, is nothing short of too long a time.
In the dark forest at night, a month before spring, and for the purpose of a rest after a day's exhausting travel, a camp was made by Two young people. One, a girl child, whose blonde hair glimmered gold in the firelight, and whose silvery blue eyes were filled with unease. The other, a boy, though almost a man. No younger than 17, with dark hair, dark eyes, and the darkened skin of someone who's spent a lifetime outdoors in the sun. His face was calm, steady, and staring into the fire without so much as a word he leaned back against his leather pack which was filled with useful things too many to list.
The Child's eyes were on her brother, and not the fire. She seemed to be staring at him with a mind filled with unanswered questions, which she didn't voice because she knew she would get no reply. Her Brother Gan often had that look on his face when he was mad. Or when he was so tired from a hard day that there was no difference from him being mad. And she knew her questions would be of no help to his mood.
"What about dinner?"
"Where are we going exactly?"
"Don't you wish father and mother were still with us?"
The Girl whose name was Roana wouldn’t actually ever dare to mention that last one, it would do nothing but stir up trouble and bring an uncomfortable gaze from Gan that no child would willfully weather. The thought alone of such a look, made her turn away from Gan and Look around at the forest. Every tree was barren, their ash grey and light brown bark dimly lit by the fire and from the full moon which cast its light out into the cold night air. The ground was hard and carpeted in long dead leaves and twigs, the earth Roana sat upon was hard and frozen, the chill reaching through her dear skin pants and numbing her body little by little.
She stood up to find a place closer to the little fire her brother had made but her movement seemed to awaken him from his thoughts. "Roana, help me lay out the bedding." Gan stood and said the first words spoken between them since the sun went down. He pulled from his pack a thick and heavy fur blanket, from corner to corner longer even than Gan's 6-foot height. The black fur was shiny, with a bluish tint that gleamed in the firelight. Once the fur was laid out, Gan pulled out a thin patched-up quilt, which was likely older than their parents from the holes and wear. He stretched it over himself as he rolled with a sigh onto the fur. With a pat in front of him, Roana was summoned, and without hesitation, she curled up under the blanket next to him.
Roana's anxiety from the day, and from her brother's mood dispersed entirely as Gan's warm arms wrapped around her. It felt almost as if she was in her Father's arms again, and for a moment she let herself believe that he was still alive, and the snoring behind her wasn't Gan's.
Weary and frayed minds often have jarring dreams, and the mind of Gan was the most weary and frayed it had ever been. They had fallen behind again for the third day in a row, slowed down by the rough terrain of the mountainous area, and by the sluggish steps of his little sister. He gave her short stature and scrawny 6-year-old body most of the credit for her pace, but it did not go past him that those short little legs worked faster when their parents were alive.
"Faster." The dry lips of Gan mumbled in his sleep. In his dream he had lost a leg, was lightheaded from blood loss, and was carrying the world's heaviest satchel, yet still he hobbled faster than his little sister. The monsters were not far enough behind to rest for a second, he was certain he could feel their wet breath on his neck. He turned around and saw the ungodly thing pounce onto him. But he didn’t scream, no the sensation of being ripped apart by the blurry creatures that prowled his nightmares was too familiar now to break down about. Instead, he gazed up away from the indistinct and surreal creature chewing on his intestines, and towards the tower.
The beam of pure white seemed so close as he was dying, if he could move his arms he was sure he could reach out and touch it. But weakness and that sticky constricting glue that holds us from moving or sometimes even speaking in our dreams overcame his will with ease. He was trapped in his sleep, forced by the torturer living in his own mind to feel the pain of being consumed. And to be unable to move, which to a soul who had never lived in the same place for more than a day was an even worse fate.
As the dream monster finished eating him, Gan woke with a deep breath. it was still night, the cold breeze cut into his uncovered face and he looked down to see the blonde hair of a snoring child wrapped in his arms and drooling onto his thick dear skin coat. He also looked up to the stars and the moon which had nearly set over the horizon, and caught sight above the trees of the tower. The same pilar of white from his dream shining just as brightly as the moon and reaching into the sky far to the west.
It was so distant now, and a part of Gan's mind hopped it was still only a part of his dream. But no dream lasts a lifetime and kills a child's parents. Gan sighed and closed his eyes to go back to sleep. When he was a child he would avoid sleep to keep away from the nightmares, but now he had no choice but to get as much rest as he could. Without sleep, a man can not protect or fight at his best.
though sleep is a fickle thing, sometimes it comes and other times it goes, and other times it brushes against your nose without ever committing you into its fold. This night Gan awoke a second time for seemingly no reason only a moment after drifting off. And though this may seem like a normal nightly occurrence, it did not at the moment seem at all normal to Gan. Instead, he wondered for an instant if there was a hidden danger around. He searched the area with his eyes and perused it with his perked ears. But found the same dead winter forest his sister had and nothing more.
The wind sounded shrill through the trees and the fire he had lit was mostly dead, but nothing was out of the ordinary, and to his calculations they were days ahead of the Spreading. The most dangerous thing in these woods would be ordinary creatures, of which Gan was not afraid. If perchance a stray predator were to overcome its own nature and linger this close to the edge of the Spreading, then stumble onto their camp, They would most certainly also stumble into one of the ten trip wires Gan had set in preparation of camp. And in doing so Give Gan plenty of time to stand and grab his spear, which was planted into the ground only a few paces away.
Even a bear or mountain lion would be remiss to take Gan lightly with his spear in hand. After all, In his short life he has faced far more dangerous things with that pointed stick. So with nothing to fight on this quiet mountain, Gan laid his head back down and tried to sleep once again. If his sister was older he would have set up a watch, but she would not be able to keep awake nor out of trouble if he were sleeping and she wasn't, his attempts previously had proved the danger of it. It all went fine as long as he was guarding her, but when he slept and left her alone with nothing but her child mind to keep her occupied... every shadow became an enemy, and every odd-shaped rock became a danger, it seemed every facet of nature became a reason to wake him.
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Or worse, her mind would wonder. She would not detect a danger until it had already made itself known even to the sleeping man. On two occasions Roana fell asleep herself, and Made it clear that a new method would have to be found. Better to have a poor but consistent watch, than put trust into a bad idea of which only one failure would lead to death. So trip wire became the night watch, and Gan became, through worry and necessity, a very light sleeper. Perhaps that is what was happening, he thought to himself. He was sleeping so light that the wind was waking him.
He had almost convinced himself of that until the seventh time he awoke in a twenty-minute span. His mind and body were far too tired to be so restless, even his nightmares did not keep him from sleep when he had spent a whole day climbing and hiking up mountains. After another fleeting moment of sleep after which he awoke again, the moon not moved but a finger length down the sky, Gan began to be a little afraid. Was this sick feeling in the air always there? Hadn't it been entirely peaceful only a moment ago?
The moonlight which was cold but at the least impartial before, was at this moment against him though he knew not why or how. And the hairs on his arms bounced into a firm standing position as the very ground under him seemed to shiver, or perhaps that was his own body. But why? Not a thing could be seen in the night, nothing but the forest. Gan sat up, something inside him was on edge, it would be foolish to try and sleep again. He did not know why that was, but he was now choking on the fact as if it were a stone in his throat.
Something was wrong. He searched in every direction, his unrested eyes straining to see into the dark. The fire now smaller than his hand was not much help but he knew to stoke it was to lose his vision for the dark around him. The breathing of his sister was all he could hear, its gentle and slow pace made him aware she had not stirred. Time passed, the feeling in his stomach became thicker. The tremble in his hands more alarming. Gan's head turned back and forward, surveying the woods with abandon in his eyes. He searched, harder and harder for some "thing" in the night. For the source of his unrest. Sitting, his legs still covered by the blanket, His mind kept attention on where his spear was at all times. His hand grasped at the air as if it thought he should already be armed.
Yet something kept him still and kept him silent as if a single out-of-place noise would summon the danger nearby with sudden ferocity. The scent of the night was fresh and chilled, yet it brought only more alertness to Gan's chest. The swaying of the trees in the slight breeze was by all looks natural and yet it looked to Gan as though the trees themselves were afraid of something. The fire at this moment chose to die completely, leaving only glowing embers and ash, Gan expected the fire to die but he couldn't help but feel as though it were retreating like a spooked rabbit, the orange glow in its place, like the eyes of a prey animal peaking out from its den in terror at what lurked outside.
All of these signals, and yet a perfectly calm night. A bright one under a full moon, which showed the emptiness of the surroundings. Gan however did not halt his search. And his instincts only became more powerful at the sight of the seaming normality. Then came a voice. "The catalyst?" was that his own mind. The whisper, as raspy as a rope pulled back and forward over a rough log, sounded like a searching ghost. "The Catalyst?" The repeated phrase struck Gan with the immutable fact that this was no howling wind or wondering thought. "The Catalyst?" Three times this voice spoke, each time it came from a different direction, causing Gan's neck to pop from how fast he turned his head. But he did not catch a glimpse of a source capable of speech.
"There. The Catalyst." Sounding like an old man who had found his long-lost smoking pipe, and now immediately planned to smoke in celebration, the whispering voice appeared in form suddenly. A small blackness, a speck of void appeared by the nearby trees. An orb showed up at the moment Gan was watching, which had he not seen appear he may have not noticed. It grew in size as it got closer and repeated a simple word with joy evident in its approach. "Catalyst. Catalyst. Catalyst." It sounded like a spell to Gan, a witch's twisted whispers attempting to worm its way into his ear and affect his brain.
Gan sharply stood up, lunged for his spear, and pointed it directly at the vaporis orb of darkness, just as it came into range. It stopped, barely an inch from the iron point. "Be gone Ghost!!" Gan shouted, hoping to gain courage from his own loud voice. The floating shadow vibrated, its reply tainted with displeasure. "Shhhhh. You'll wake the catalyst." This aperrition no larger than a human skull, shushed Gan with scorn.
Gan swallowed, his mouth felt so dry. He was above all confused about what he was facing, this floating ball about neck high was like nothing he had seen before. The monsters of the spreading were twisted and came in different forms, but never before had they taken the form of a dark ball. Or a ghostly shadow. Nor had they spoken the human tongue. "What are you?" The words fell out of Gan's mouth more than he said them. The ball of darkness jiggled up and down, its movements defying gravity and also the eye, as in the dark night it was hard to even see its form. whenever it moved Gan tried his best to follow it but was forced to concentrate hard. It did not occur to him however that such a thing might not only be because of the night, but because of some otherworldly power this shadow may command. "Useless Questions." The ghost rasped. "Shhhh... The catalyst is stirring." Again the Cytalyst it mentioned. Gan would have asked about it if he didn't have a dozen other more important questions circling his mind.
Not the least of which was How dangerous was this thing, and to him the most important question was should he attack first. "Fool, the catalyst is awake now." Gan did not know why he turned back, he was not signaled in any way by the ghost, or by sound, but perhaps he understood more about this moment than he consciously was aware of. Gan's backward glance found Roana turned towards them with wide and open eyes. At once, Gan shot his glance back to the shadow. It's listliss hovering giving off an amused feeling that put iron spikes in Gan's belly. With the interest of this dangerous thing turned to his Sister, Gan no longer hesitated. He could risk no hesitation. He struck forth with his spear directly through the center of the ghost.
Despite the sharpness of his spear, and the seemingly ethereal appearance of the being before him, the tip of iron struck as though against something hard, and a spark was thrown by the metal as it slid to the side. The Sphere didn't even move, and instead it stilled, not moving at all. Gan did not know until this moment with certainty that the being had eyes, as his spine stiffened from the feeling of being under a powerful gaze. It was as though he was being watched from behind as he straightened back into a defensive position, except this gaze came from every direction and was strong like a bolt of lightning striking from the sky.
"Be still person. I have business." Instead of whispering this time, the shadow spoke. Its full voice a thrashing and yet solid sound. Like the clanging of a bell at the bottom of a deep pool of water. It was both high and low, both pitchy and throwing from a thick throat. It forced its way into Gan's heart and caused him to freeze up like a glacier. The orb moved around his spear, which against his own will held perfectly still. And the being floated past Gan as he simply stood there unable to even turn his neck. Now it was behind him. He began to shake in fear, brutal violent shaking, which matched the roughness and quick pace of his breathing. "N...n...no," he muttered. But what was happening was beyond him, the fear from a gaze alone had stopped his heart from beating in pace and had changed his muscles to stone. The fear of that ghost at his back was compounded by the recent memory of striking against it. That shadow was not a harmless specter.
But the fear in Gan's heart for his own fate in this fight soon vanished entirely at the sound of a smothered scream. The scream of his little sister. And in response to this muffled horror behind him? More shaking. That was all, that was everything. All the storm raging in vain, the wild typhoon blasting its untethered force in his gut, his heart filled with a fire unquenchable and burning trails through the world while raining ash. And its manifestation was a shaking of terror.
"Gaaaan." The haunted and tortured voice of Roana called his name and Gan nearly fainted from his struggle to break free. His teeth clenched so tightly they felt as though they would crack, sweat poured from his face, and his flesh everywhere was red and swollen from an effort to break his own fear. There was a rustle behind him, a flapping of wind, then the world turned silent. Gan felt the presence of evil pass, his body fell then like a cloth doll cut from a thread it had been held up by. His only intentional motion as his knees caved like shattered icecycles, was to turn his head and body so his weak form landed with him looking back where his sister was. Where she should have been. His heart unprepared for anything he knew he would see, yet he saw nothing because she, like the shadowy ghost, was gone.