Hi guys! Sooooooooooooo infinitely sorry for the reaaaallllllyyyy long wait for this not-so-long-or-gripping chapter! I'm really sorry. I had the chapter written ages ago, I just got distracted, and recently a beautiful person favourited the story, which brought my attention back to it. So thank you to Miss Technicality. I'm really happy with the reviews you guys sent, and I'm hoping so bad that this story doesn't dissappoint. Get reading!
Chapter 2: Empty Words
~{[Sakirra's P.O.V.]}~
Sakirra's feet ached from running so hard. Her lungs heaved violently. The canyon's terrain was merciless. She could still see little James sprinting behind her, his childish spirit still full of hope and life. The poor kid had lived a hard life. Abandonned alone, and now Sakirra had led him to his death - being cornered, and devoured by hellhounds.
The scenery was nice though. Had Sakirra been going around this canyon any other day, she would've stopped to admire the scenery numerous times. The red-brown dirt covering the ground like a velvet cloak, that moved with the wind. The stunning deep crevase that curved through the land, almost as if Zeus had gotten angry and cut the ground with a giant jagged blade. The place had a strange beauty to it.
Sakirra only hated the view she got when she looked over her shoulder.
The hellhounds, cruel and inexhaustable. Their hungry jaws baring ugly fangs, tinged with the crimson blood of their previous opponents. Sakirra and James were next. The hellhounds' snarls pierced Sakirra's ears with such fear, she could've curled into a ball right there and then, but she held it together.
For James. Her only friend over long days of hiding. The little boy, barely in his double-digits. Sakirra couldn't just leave him. She could've run faster than the wind had she wanted to, but she couldn't leave James. She knew what it was like to be forgotten and rejected by those you once thought of as friends. It hurt more than any pain imagineable.
Sakirra peered back over her shoulder to see where James was. His dirt covered face was bright red from running so hard, his blonde hair messier and more knotted than Sakirra had ever seen it. Yet the boy pushed through his exhaustion, along the empty and coarse dirt trail into desolate land beyond.
The cliff face they were approaching was more than threatening. They would either be overtaken by the hellhounds and be consumed, or fall to their deaths. Sakirra really didn't want to think about either option. Both wouldn't do them any good.
Then, out of nowhere, something caught Sakirra's eye. A small construction set over the canyon. She let out a silent cry of gratitude to whoever had put the bridge there. No sight had ever been more welcoming. The hellhounds would be too bulky to cross it, or even fit onto it in the first place.
Sakirra turned to James, a relieved smile spreading over her face.
"Head for the bridge!" she yelled to him, ignoring the hellhounds bounding after them. That was where Sakirra made her mistake. James had always had hearing troubles. He wouldn't be able to properly understand what she was saying at the distance they were from each other. One of James's eyebrows raised.
"Off the ridge?" he called back, "Okay!"
"No!" Sakirra yelled.
"Was that 'no' or 'go'?" James asked. Sakirra just stared at him, because answering his question would've only confused the boy more. She was desperately hoping he somehow got the message. He didn't.
With hellhounds bounding after him, he veered right sharply, running straight at the canyon's edge. Sakirra sprinted back towards him, she wasn't worried about sprinting closer to the hellhounds, she had to stop her friend. She used the wind to push herself fowards faster. She found herself screaming after James. He looked over his shoulder at her a couple of times, but the boy was confused and afraid. He wanted to get away from the hellhounds, and he really wasn't going to observe the risks, it wouldn't have helped that he was a child of Atë (goddess of reckless behavior).
The hellhounds slowed as they turned to follow, this gave Sakirra a small speck of hope, if only she could convince James to run in a zig-zag pattern. But time was quickly diminishing. James approached that ledge faster than Sakirra could herself, even with the wind on her side.
The hellhounds released another chorus of ear-splitting barks. James didn't slow in his path, nor did he veer further left, nor right. Sakirra screamed out to him, but his bad hearing left him unsure of her words. With her heart pounding inside her chest, Sakirra gave a final effort to push herself closer to James with the wind. No such effort worked. James kept running. That ridge was drawing far to close for Sakirra's liking.
"JAMES!" Sakirra screamed, trying to get him to stop. She was lucky he didn't heed to her words, for the hellhounds were closing in on him, he would've been devoured by them if he'd stopped running.
"STOP!" Her desperate cries were unanswered. The canyon's edge was an arms distance away from James.
Then the inevitable became reality. James didn't even hestitate as he leaped off the cliff, but the look on his face told you of his fear. In a heart-stopping moment, he was gone. The hellhounds pounced at the falling boy, but instead they fell themselves.
"JAMES!" Sakirra screamed, "NO! COME BACK!" She knew he wouldn't.
She ran out to the ridge and peered over it. She could see only the winding river, that would hit James like concrete. She shook her head muttering "no" repeatedly. She didn't want to believe James was gone, but there was little hope he could possibly be alive.
Sakirra threw herself off the cliff, not even considering how un-ladylike cliffdiving was in a dress. She pulled the winds to slow her descent. The harsh air whipped around her, biting into her skin.
Don't let him be gone, Sakirra pleaded silently, Let him live. Let him be okay.
Finally her feet hit the shallows in the river. Taking no note of the water reaching her knees, Sakirra plunged into the lake in desperate hope to save her companion. She kicked her legs through the cold water, her attempts getting her nowhere, for she had no idea how to swim.
Her head broke the surface again. She gasped for air and dunked her head under a second time. Water stung at her eyes as she tried to open them. She flailed her legs wildly, trying to get into deeper water. Water worked its way into her throat. She broke the surface again, coughing and spluttering, gasping for the air she lacked.
"JAMES!" Sakirra screamed again, but she knew all hopes for him were lost. She slammed her fists at the water in anger, only managing to splash herself in the face.
The current tugged at her legs. The water slowly started turning brown. Though Sakirra knew blood was not brown, she started screaming for James again, fearing something terrible had happened to him. Had the hellhounds eaten him underwater? Then the thought occured to Sakirra, where were the hellhounds?
She whipped her head around in every direction, her heartbeat speeding up by the second. She could almost feel the hellhounds' darkened eyes resting on her back, just waiting to pounce. They couldn't have just vanished!
Sakirra could feel tears stinging at her eyes. She had to help him! He couldn't be dead. Not yet. There had to be some form of air still resting in his lungs. There just had to.
She took in a deep and shaky breath, before she plunged into the river again. She swam further out into the river than she had the last times, but she miscalculated the risks.
The current swept Sakirra away like a rag-doll. It held her beneath the surface, constricting against her lungs, burning them like a hot iron.
In her sudden moment of panic, she tried to inhale, but only got a mouthful of murky water, that tasted less than nice. She kicked her legs with all her might, but the water was stronger than she was.
The constricting pain in her lungs soon became overwhelming. Her body became numb. Her head felt light and dizzy. Her efforts to push out of the water dwindled. Her mind became foggy.
After what felt like hours of torment and pain, Sakirra slipped into the realms unconsciousness.
~{[Sam's P.O.V.]}~
The monster wasn't the thing in the cave that scared Sam, it was all the Heracles. Whether it was an ancient vase, a life-sized statue, a sword with his name engraved into it, or a sack of flour made by the brand "Heracles", it would've found its way into the cave.
The cave itself probably would've been very eerie, had Heracles not dominated every surface. The cave's interior was covered with webs. Thick icy webs. No stalactite or stalagmite had escaped getting covered with webbing. Just moving your arm would make you break a web and get its fragile wrapping all over your wrist.
Heracles just ruined its fearsomeness. His cheery face hung from webs in various places, items of random Heracles merchandise was scattered the floor, clay statues decorated every corner. No inch of the cave escaped Heracles. The monster that inhabitted the cave was very clearly obsessed.
Sam should've been dead. He could smell the Underworld. Being that far underground should've torn his life from his body. Sam knew that if he ventured deeper he'd be dead. He could feel his soul tearing. The pain was almost unbareable, burning at his heart, tearing at his head. He was drained of his power. He would've loved nothing more than a nice pillow for him to rest his head on. No such gift would come for him though.
Sam heard something shifting nearby. He jerked back to life, from his exhausted state. He held his heavy eyes open, determined not to blink. He could distinguish the faint "pop pop pop" of the monster crawling through the cavern. No doubt the monster wanted to play with its "pet" again.
Then the monster emerged into Sam's line of view. The monster was, well monstorus. It was unlike any monster Sam had ever seen. If you stared at it's neck you might've thought it was slightly normal, but any other part of the creature was purely abnormal. She had the torso of a human, clothed in only an overly large apron. It had swamp green scales where its skin should've been, that looked only as strong as chainmail.
Then there was her abdomen. It was that of a spider, a human sized spider. It was covered a mess of spiky brown fur, along with the eight legs that sprouted from it.
Then you were drawn to her face. It wasn't only abnormal because it was covered in thin scales, or because its nose was merely two slits, but because of her eyes - all four of them. Four round milky white eyes. It was a wonder they'd all managed to cram onto that forehead.
Sam wanted to curl up in his corner and vanish, that was unfortunately, not an option. He struggled against his bonds slightly, but he was tired, so his efforts proved more than futile. He didn't enjoy being this creature's "pet", nor did he like the conditions he was kept in. So far from the sky... so, so far from that blue sky.
"Hello honey," the demon greeted her voice a piercing hiss, "Do you want to see your room now?" she asked, "Mumsy Aikaterine will take you to your room." Sam wanted to speak up, but his mind was too tired to think of a comeback. He just shot deadly looks at Aikaterine.
"Get up," Aikaterine instructed, "Don't make mumsy drag you there." Her four eyes locked on Sam. A shiver ran up his spine as the sickening eyes stared at him. He looked cautiously at his legs. Aikaterine had dragged him by the legs into the centre of the cave, and Sam's legs were not in any good condition at that point. He turned back up to Aikaterine, all four of her eyebrows were angled down.
"Shut up," Sam said, "I'm not going any further into this foresaken cave." He leaned back against the cave wall, causing webs to tangle into his hair. He ignored Aikaterine's glares and closed his eyes gently, in subtle attempt to hide the fear swirling inside them.
"I might as well just eat you now," Aikaterine muttered. Sam's eyes jerked open. Eat him? Was her mind more disturbing than her appearance?
"I wouldn't advise eating me," Sam suggested, "I'm awfully tasteless." The expression that crossed Aikerine's face told him his words had made no contact with her mind. Aikaterine was going to wind up eating him.
Aikaterine stepped closer to Sam, letting him inhale her putrid breath. It smelt like the rotting corpses of victims of war. She poked Sam's legs with one of her own jagged, arachnid legs. She jumped backwards as if she'd been shocked by electricity, in fact, that's pretty much what happened.
Sparks danced across Sam's frame. There was still something left in him.
"Come any closer and you'll get a bigger shock," Sam threatened. Aikaterine suddenly looked more than happy.
"I've been waiting for this moment forever!" Aikaterine exclaimed dancing around on her eight legs. As much as Sam liked it when girls liked him, what Aikerine said disturbed him thoroughly.
"Uh..." Sam started backing away slightly from Aikaterine.
"Isn't it great that they're finally here?" Aikaterine asked.
"What are you-" But Aikaterine wasn't talking to Sam.
"I think it's truly wonderful!" Aikaterine said, "Now I won't be so lonely. I'll have someone to sing to forever." She went on talking about how splendid she would find Sam's company, answering her own questions, at one stage she even insulted herself and retaliated.
Sam edged further into the web-lined wall while Aikaterine went on talking to herself. If only he could find his way out of there. Part of him asked "what about the amulet?" but Sam just wanted to get out, and get out fast. Aria could get her amulet herself.
Sam scanned the cavern. He saw only one exit. A small opening in the wall opposite him. If he could just dash fast enough-
"I'm going to call him Heracles!" Aikaterine declared. That caught Sam's attention.
"I already have a name!" he spat.
"Let's take him to his new home shall we?" Aikaterine asked herself. She quickly turned around and something sticky gripped Sam's legs. He was yanked forwards, making him fall on his face, and his pains return to him.
Aikaterine started strolling forwards and Sam started sliding forwards. He lifted his head an inch, and saw the webbing around his legs, pulling him along behind Aikaterine, further into the dark cave.
He suddenly felt too weak to walk. Going deeper into the cave was not doing the storm-spirit any good.
Aikaterine kept up her pace until they reached a smaller area in the cave. By that stage Sam had almost lost consciousness. His vision was hazy and his ears were ringing. When they stopped, he barely noticed.
What he did notice though, were the sounds that pierced through the ringing in his ears. A soft, beautiful, mournful melody. Each note was hit with crystal clear pitch, echoing through the shadowy cave breaking through the empty silence. The song was so captivating that it left goosebumps in Sam's arms. A wave of coldness swept over his body as the rich melody hypnotised him. Slowly, gently, the song lulled him to sleep, letting him slip into the hands of fate.
~{[Briar's P.O.V.]}~
It had only been an hour since Briar had left the wood, and already he had picked up unwanted company. He would've prefered to walk alone to the entrance of the Underworld rather than walking with a persistent Detia biting at his heels.
"Were you having a whole conversation about me before I came in?" Detia was asking.
"No," Briar answered, sighing inside himself.
"You said I was vain and heartless! You'd obviously been talking about me." The temperature around the Pyroead was rising, flames were even flickering across her head.
"For about two seconds."
"I know you weren't. You were probably going on about me for a whole twenty minutes." Briar could feel Detia's glares resting on the back of his neck. As the thought occurred to him, he quickly brushed his hair down again. No one could see that scar.
"Probably judging me for talking to that satyr for too long," Detia muttered, "And critisising-"
"You're right Detia," Briar interupted, "My social life is so sad, I have nothing better to talk about than a nymph who follows me around everywhere, because I'm too stupid to create a conversation about disturbances in nature, all-important prophecies, wars that the gods aren't involved in, or anything else. I just have to talk about Detia because she's the centre of the universe!" Detia gave no response to Briar, but he could almost see her fists clenching and her eyes scowling at him intensely. She didn't like being accused of being vain.
They walked along in silence for quite some time after that. Detia was biting her lip back and constantly scowling at Briar. Briar was humming cheerily as they walked along, lightening the dreary atmosphere Detia was creating.
Their walk was rather dull and uneventful until they came to a canyon. They'd been walking for a couple of hours by that stage, and were both eager for a break, but it wasn't the clean river that made him want to stop for a moment. The disturbance in nature that had always seemed so faint suddenly seemed fresh, almost as if it had made itself part of the ecosystem the area provided. Detia had also noticed its stronger scent, its stronger grip on the environment, as she stopped glaring at Briar and started glaring at the river instead.
"Something's not right," Detia murmured.
"Is there?" Briar mocked. Once again Detia went silent and scowled. Briar gave her a smirk. He strolled over to the river, Detia was hesitant to follow. Fire doesn't run in water.
Briar strode ankle-deep into the river and watched the sun dance above the horizon. He decided that he'd rest there that night. No one would follow them from through the woods, and a canyon surrounded the rest of the river, no one would risk jumping down to attack them.
There was a splash to Briar's left. He would've normally expected Amaya to emerge from the river, but they were already far from her springs. Then to his left, coughing and spluttering sounds started up.
Much to Briar's surprise, when he turned to the source of the coughing, he saw a young boy, sopping wet, and absolutely exhausted. The boy had fresh cuts all over him, all luckily shallow and only bleeding slightly. The boy wore a shirt that might've been white once, but was now stained with so much dirt it was brown. As for his pants, they were ripped to only reach the boy's knees, also dirt covered and fraying.
The boy collasped and rolled onto his back, his heavy panting audible from metres away. The boy had clearly had a very rough time, so Briar, like any other sane person would, approached the boy and knelt next to him. The boy's eyes were closed, but rimmed with the darkest of shadows.
"Are you alright?" Briar asked hesitantly. The boy opened his eyes slightly and squinted at Briar.
"Are too alight?" he muttered, "I don't get it." The boy seemed to focus on Briar more through his quinted eyes.
"Are you alright?" Briar repeated, much slower and louder than before. The boy nodded.
"I guess so," he groaned, "Who are you? You look like a elf... Or a nymph, one of them."
"I'm Briar," Briar stated, "I'm a dryad, not a nymph."
"Oh, okay."
"Who are you?" Briar asked the boy.
"I'm James," he said, "I think Sakirra said "to the bridge" now..."
"Who?" Briar asked. James sat himself up and rubbed his eyes.
"No, not me, Sakirra," James corrected. Briar was only more confused, but James didn't notice.
"Have you seen the hellhounds?" he asked, "They followed me... I think..." The boy screwed up his face again and looked around. "My arm hurts."
"I haven't seen any hellhounds," Briar said, "I haven't heard any either." He couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for the boy.
"Who's that?" James asked, nodding at Detia's direction, sending the conversation on a completely different course.
"That's Detia," Briar told him, "She's a pyroead."
"I think she's ugly," James said, with an unchanging tone. Briar smiled.
"I'd love to see you tell her."
"I'd like to tell her. She might decide not to show her face in public again." Briar raised an eyebrow.
It might also gain you an enemy for life, he thought.
"Where were you going?" Briar asked.
"Air were oo gone?" James muttered.
"Where were you going?" Briar repeated louder.
"I don't know," James answered. "Sakirra knew. I never know where we're going. Everyone hates us."
"Why do they hate you?"
"I don't know... Scary things follow us. People don't like that. Sakirra says I'm a 'demrod'."
"Demigod?" Briar questioned.
"Yeah."
"So you have nowhere to go?" Briar clarified. James nodded slightly.
"I'm really hurty," he moaned.
"BRIAR!" The sound of Detia's shriek made Briar flinch. He turned his head cautiously towards where Detia had been standing. Detia's hair had turned to a flickering yellow, which usually meant she was scared. Her hands were clasped over her mouth and her eyes were fixated on the clay ground.
"What?" Briar called, to his great annoyance.
"The ground," Detia said. "It's the disturbance. It's not right. The clay isn't..." Her voice trailed off.
"I'm bored!" James groaned. "Can I come with you nymph?" Briar held back his irritation. Something good had finally come out of Detia's mouth, and he'd been disrupted. At that point in time, no, he did not want James to come with him. But James seemed so lost without this "Sakirra" girl. Briar couldn't just leave him on his own. The kid would probably dive off another cliff, one without water to cushion his fall! He couldn't leave James on his own.
"Sure kid," Briar agreed offering a hand to James. "But call me Briar, and I'm a dryad, not a nymph, okay?" James nodded and gripped Briar's hand. Briar hoisted James up and guided him back over to Detia.
"Detia," Briar said. "We have a new friend." Detia looked over the ten-year-old cautiously. Clearly, she didn't want to be friends.
So there it is! Please review again! I really need to know if you guys are still reading - if you are, I love you! Also, if there are any Hunger Games fans, please check out my story Static Electricity, as I am currently only working on that story and this one. THANK YOU SO MUCH GUYS! Just for reading. I'll update soon. In at the most three weeks. I'm really busy at the moment guys! Sorry! :(