Elemenchya - Book One

In the darkness of predawn, a whisper crawled along the cobble stones, peering and prodding windowsills while the city of Janoiah slept. The message the whisper carried laid heavily upon the swirling mist. They tried to contain the vitriol separate from itself, but it had been a long, tiring journey and over time, the message that was carried whispered back. A growing desperation spread through the courier to unload its toxic tidings before the saturation became complete.

An unreasonable anger attached itself to the whisper. Once the melding had begun, the courier learned to hate the future recipient as well. If not for them, the whisper would not have to be so far from home. The air would not smell so strange. The sounds they absorbed would not be so unfamiliar. Had it not been for the poisonous package the whisper was tasked with delivering, they may have carried a wish, or a laugh, or even a dream.

Oh! the whisper thought to itself. A dream. How perfect, they mused. The soft, misty swirls of sounds began to spin violently as the desperation grew into determination. A dark vigor filled the elemova, aiding in its search for the target.

Deep inside the growing tempest, the message carried thrust itself in a direction and pulled its vessel with it. It sensed its destination and anchored tightly to the glass of a window like frost. Opposite the forming nightmare slept S’bowynn. The whisper rattled aggressively against the window. The determination bleeding into desperation once again. Frantically pressing against the glass, the whisper found the smallest of gaps between the wood and glass to flow into the warmth of the room.

The entity that entered the bedroom held tightly to its purpose as S’bowynn slept before it. Anger spread through the whisper’s swirls. Annoyance. Frustration. Emotions pulsed through the elemova. Would relief come once the message was delivered? Would it get to go home and never again smell the thick, stagnant air that collected between the vimova structures?

The messenger raised itself over S’bowynn. Had it not been corrupted, it may have taken time to wonder at her dreams, chancing a glance inside to experience a perception other than its own. Instead, it pulsed with a foreign hatred for the dreamer it had accepted as its own.

How could this vimova dream with such toxin in its presence?

Why did it deserve this message so much that one had to be sacrificed with its delivery?

Wanting to end the whispers torment, it leaned forward and enveloped S’bowynn in swirling purple mist. The whisper pressed its thoughts against the dreamer and poured over her breath, following her inhalation into the body. A shared heat spread against S’bowynn’s forehead, and a soft buzzing grew in her ears. S’bowynn’s mind, blank in her restful sleep, began to contort and project the vivid nightmare, translated from the message it had been forced to receive. Her dream formed with a tint of purple clinging to the shadows of the images that developed.

S’bowynn floated in the sea of her dreams, staring at the never endings sky of dark that fused with the still waters. Beside her floated the rope tethered to the shoreline illuminated by the tiniest of flickering lights. Once the dream was clear enough for S’bowynn to interact with her surroundings, she reached out and clasped the rope. The surroundings collapsed around her, plummeting into her chest until she found herself standing in Janoiah. When S’bowynn walked through the familiar streets of her memories, her shadow stalked her movements and hid the malicious intent within. She passed by the Garden archways that just hours earlier held new life and meaning for her, now twisted violently in a tempest of deep purple and darkness, perceptible only from lacking any form, color, or life. The Void pulled at her, drawing her into its nothing.

S'bowynn screamed and scrambled away from the emptiness. In her blind panic, she darted down the adjoining streets until she couldn’t see the building anymore. She arrived at Main Market and started walking casually down its empty street toward the front gate. There, a lone wagon waited for her. Inside the wagon were her companions she had met the night before. Something inside told her that these were the same vimova, but their faces were formless. She smiled, greeted them, and climbed aboard the wagon.

Within moments they were far adrift amongst the sea of swaying golden grass. Off in the distance, the horizon darkened as it does at dusk. S’bowynn looked up, confused, finding Arovdora still high above her. She gazed back toward the horizon and watched as the false dusk grew steadily. The darkness resembled a writhing mass, expanding, clawing, ripping, tearing at the distance between them with nightmarish fervor.

The giant beast pulling the wagon with S’bowynn and her companions bucked and bellowed. The wagon shook and the wood groaned as the arms strained to remain attached to the panicking animal. A loud snap rang out and abruptly the wagon jolted upward, raising three of four wheels off the ground and ejecting its passengers onto the ground. S’bowynn landed in the wagon’s shadow before it toppled backwards, landing upside down over top of her, and trapping her beneath.

From inside the overturned wagon, S’bowynn was encased in darkness, unable to see where her companions landed or see the encroaching, threatening mass. She could, however, hear the shrill bleating and stomping hooves from the beast of burden increase in panic before fading into silence. S’bowynn began to sob and helplessly prod against wood that kept her imprisoned. Next came human screams until they resembled gurgling sounds and fell silent.

S'bowynn gathered her knees to her chest and stifled her sobs. She rocked back and forth, overcome with fear. A small whimper escaped her lips when a gentle scratching started outside the wagon. The wagon shook violently as the scratching increased but wasn’t unseated from the earth. After reaching a crescendo, the clawing sounds outside retreated. S’bowynn waited for an eternity in heavy silence and darkness. A small exit, presumedly excavated by herself had presented a way out of the wagon. She hesitantly crawled through the small space and freed herself from the darkness that had kept her safe.

Arovdora had only begun to hide itself along the horizon. An acrid smell filled her nostrils causing her to balk in disgust. All the once beautiful grass as far as one could see in the fading light had wilted and turned into a greyish-purple sludge. Off to her right, lay an amorphous mound. Her every thought pleaded with her to look away or run, but her feet carried her nearer. When she was no more than an arm’s length away, the mound started to resemble what may have once been a body. Its limbs bent in every which way that was wrong and the skin had begun to slough off the muscle and bone where it was not missing entirely. The face distinguished itself from the grey, wet mounts by a set of protruding teeth.

S'bowynn wanted to scream or cry but she could manage neither. She felt an overwhelming nothingness. Inside her mind, a thought that was not her own pressed against her will.

Do not seek The Void

Stay