~Part Two ~ Into The Twilight Winter~
~Chapter Twenty One~
The camp of Viand's horde was completely silent, the only sounds were those of the rain and winds, everything seemed to be still, as if the world were bracing itself. The army and slaves all enclosed in their tents, slaves under heavy guard, much heavier then usual. Aren sat, surrounded by his fellow otters, Jimene among them. They conversed in low tones, trying not to wake the guard who sat, half asleep and muttering softly, at the entrance to the tent.
"How long do you think it'll be?" Aren asked in a soft voice, shivering a little. The tent did very little to shield them from the cold and they weren't allowed a fire due to the lack of dry wood to be found in the forest off the path.
"By the looks of things, it shouldn't be too long . . ." An older otter, scarred heavily by the whips, answered as he held his wife close to him. "All of the soldiers have been readying their weapons for sometime."
"It can't be too long, ye can feel the tension out there . . .every beast is nervous." A young otter maid said in a quiet tone. She pointed to the guard sitting on the chair, his newly sharpened blade reflecting the moonlight.
"Aye, so what are we going to do 'bout it?" The older otter asked, his paw absentmindedly running through his wife's head fur.
"Good question, but wot can we do, we haven't got a plan at all." Aren muttered.
"We can get ready to do something, our numbers are pretty even with theirs after all. We can at least do something. I don't feel like waitin' 'round fer them to get us workin' on some castle." The otter muttered back, his tone forceful, filled with hatred for the shackles upon his wrists.
"That's all nice an' lovely Balin, but wot exactly do ye 'ave in mind." A younger otter, his eyes dark, answered angrily, his spirit having been crushed long ago.
"I don't know." Balin answered dejectedly, but he refused to give up on the idea. "There has got to be something fer us to do . . ."
"Wait an' hope mate, it's all we can do . . ." Some beast said as a flash of lightning lit up the tent and as the thunder passed over them, they were silenced. Hope was distant memory that kept them alive, but they had given up on actual hope. Then again, it was still what kept them alive.
Rain pounding down upon, Yuval stood leaning against a tree on the outer perimeter waiting for the young weasel maid to return from her mission. Ilana had been gone quite a while by now and the stoat was getting worried, his group had been dropping like flies and Yuval couldn't shake the suspicion that it was all according to Viand's grand plan.
"Damn that martin . . ." Yuval cursed under his breath, shaking his head slowly. He'd get even with the scum someday, too many friends had been lost on his mission and still no beast even knew why they were heading north. Sighing Yuval slid down against the tree, pulling his hood over his head, trying to get a bit of rest in. He hadn't been able to sleep for days, always having to watch his back; paranoia had been getting to him as of late.
"Yuval?" Before the stoat could fall into the comforting realms of unconsciousness, he found some beast standing over him. Yuval glanced up to find Ilana there, breathing heavy with her cloak caked with mud and debris, a strange sort for smile on her face.
"Ilana, you're back. Did you find something?" Yuval asked, getting to his feet quickly, he saw the strange look in the weasel maid' eyes, she had certainly found something, something big.
"Quick. Get the gang together, we need to meet outside of camp." Ilana told Yuval.
"Get the gang together? What did you find?" Yuval asked, curious. It was usually only on special occasions when Viand or Jalin called them, did their gang meet.
"I found something big, but I can't talk till ye get every beast 'ere. It's something real big." Ilana replied, pausing a moment to see the stoat's response, which was merely a continued look of confusion. "I'll wait 'ere an' you get 'em all down 'ere. This is important, trust me."
"Aye, don't worry Ilana, I do." Yuval muttered and quickly made his way towards the camp, disappearing into the dark. The stoat knew it had to be important or Ilana wouldn't have to get them all together. Soon, within few minutes or so, the stoat returned with about a score or so of beasts surrounding him. It was a diverse group, a collection of weasels, stoats, ferrets and rats with a stray otter and a pair of squirrels, collectively known as the 'Hunters'; they were a highly skilled group. Assassination, scouting, spying, fighting and tracking, they did it all, it was a definite blessing to any beast to be in control of their group.
"Is this every beast?" Ilana asked, looking around the group to see that indeed no beast was missing.
"Aye, tis all of us, 'cept for those dead or missin'." The lone otter of the group answered, leaning against a tree.
"Good because I found Kishara." The weasel maid said quickly, setting off a small ripple of murmurs in the hunters.
"Ye found Kishara? Alive an' well?" The otter asked, his demeanor absolutely serious.
"She certainly is. In fact . . ." Ilana began, but was quickly cut off.
"Ha mate, ye owe me now. Told ya she wasn't dead." The otter laughed as he collected a small bag of jewels from one of the squirrels that grumbled a little as he gave up his earnings.
"Kesh, will ye shut up an' let 'er talk?" Yuval demanded, shutting the otter up quickly.
"As I was saying, Kishara's alive an' well, but there is one thing." Ilana began again, bringing the volume down to a bare whisper that was nearly blocked out by the rain.
"Well spill it already."
"She has a plan to get revenge on Viand, but she needs all of our help." The hunters took the news well, not a single one of them were surprised by the news for they all knew Kishara. The weasel maid went on, repeating what Kishara had told her exactly, the hunter's response limited to simple nodding and as the rains continued to fall, Ilana finished and it began.
Once again he was lost in his dreams, the voices calling out to him, begging him to change the path of events to come. Viand found himself in that town again, he recognized a few of the buildings and could even point out the spot where he had been slain by an arrow. It was a different time though and everything was different there, all was silent, not a single beast stirred on the scarred battlefield. The skeletons of buildings standing surrounded by the ashes of their neighbors and somewhere beneath it all lay the bodies of those slain.
"Turn back." A voice demanded, it was the ferret maid again; she stood at the end of the street, standing on top of the ashes as if she were floating on it.
"Who are you?" The martin demanded, making his way through the town towards the ferret maid, leaving twin tracks through the gray ashes. The maid simply stood there, floating on the sea of ash, silently awaiting him.
"I am those that haunt your dreams, milord." She stated it as a simple fact, but it was merely a line of gibberish to Viand, his subconscious mind unable to comprehend her words.
"I'll ask you again ferret, who are you?" He demanded as he reached her side. The ferret maid was dressed in a strange white cloak that stood out as a bright contrast to the bleak gray that she had surrounded herself with. Her eyes were closed and her features were downcast.
"I am the shadows within your dreams, I am the memories that you have buried. I am the demon, which haunts you night and day." She answered, never opening an eye to look upon the pine martin lord.
"Make sense!"
"You cannot see milord. Your eyes deceive you at every turn, but the time is coming when you shall be born again to see the truth. It is coming milord." Slowly the ferret maid opened a single eye, glaring at him with disgust, a single sky blue eye piercing his soul.
"Then why do you tell me to run?" Viand asked, confused by the ferret's self-contradiction.
"You will see things you are not meant to see . . .the temple of the watchers shall be found . . .your unseeing eyes shall be your key." She said, opening her other eye to reveal a darker shade of blue, nearly black, the absolute opposite of its companion.
"Unseeing eyes?" Viand repeated softly. "What does that mean?"
"You shall see milord." The ferret maid replied, closing her eyes to the pine martin.
"Tell me." Viand demanded, angry at the ferret maid's quiet refusal.
"You shall see milord." She repeated, angrily Viand tried to grab her by the arm, but stumbled back clutching only ash and nothing more. Staring at the maid, he watched, as she seemed to crack before floating away as dust in an unfelt breeze, disappearing into the dark.
"What?" Viand tripped, falling onto the ashen landscape, he felt it give way and then there was nothing, but darkness as he fell. Turning himself in the air he found that he was falling down a long dark corridor, glancing to his sides he found doors whizzing and then there at the end, a shining red light. It was rushing up to meet him, a burning crimson point of light at first that grew and grew until it began to burn into his eyes. Screwing his eyes shut, Viand felt the winds beginning to whip by him as he continued to fall, throwing his paws in front of him to brace for impact, he waited for the ground to meet him.
But after time past by and the wind died out, he opened an eye to find that he was no longer falling; he was standing on solid ground at the end of a black corridor. A ray of light shone brightly at the opposite end, darkness and the unknown standing between them. Viands tread cautiously towards the light, glancing around nervously at the infinite darkness surrounding him. As he drew closer to it he felt a cold wind blowing into is face, pushing onward through it he found himself in a glistening snow covered landscape, white snow flakes falling gently from the sky, pushed this way and that by a gentle breeze.
Stepping out of the cave he found himself in the middle of a vast field of snow ringed by great pines, the sun was a gleaming yellow orb floating in a sea of blue sky marked with a few white clouds. Everything as far as the martin could see was covered in a thick coat of white snow, glancing towards the cave he found that it had disappeared with a sheet of white, melding into land as if it had never existed. Walking slowly the pine martin wandered into the center of the field, feeling the sun's warmth upon his fur, wondering in the back of his mind about where he was. He was completely alone, isolated in the field of white; there were no signs of civilization whatsoever, just an endless white.
"What is this?" Viand wondered aloud, glancing around at the white lands around him.
"This is the future of all, can you not see?" A voice murmured, but as he snapped his head towards the source of the sound he found nothing there, merely white snows and nothing more.
"What do you want?" Viand yelled, tired of playing games with the voices and never getting anywhere.
"I want nothing, I am merely here to act as your guide. I am an echo of your own self, nothing more, nothing less." Viand suddenly realized that it was not the same voice as before, this one was different, a very familiar voice to him. It some beast he knew, some beast he knew very well.
"Who are you really?" Viand asked, shrugging off the cold feelings that had swept over him despite the warm sun hanging above.
"That is a question you should ask yourself milord, for you would not want the answers that I have." The voice responded and then a wind swept across the field, kicking up snow as in went, instinctively Viand covered his eyes. When it had passed, the pine martin glanced up to find himself staring at the mirror image of himself, a perfect copy of himself.
"Who are you?" He demanded of his double, but the other pine martin simply shook his head slowly, almost in disbelief that he would ask such a simple question.
"I am you." The copy answered, his voice exactly the same yet subtly different somehow; Viand simply couldn't put his paw on it. There was definitely something different about the pine martin, it was not a perfect copy, something was off.
"No . . .you aren't, I know you aren't. You can't be." Viand shook his head slowly, glaring into the eyes off his other self.
"But I am Viand, I am you. You are correct though, I'm not you as well." The copy answered and then suddenly another wind blew around them, blinding Viand temporarily.
"Then who are you?" Viand yelled through the winds, but he was greeted only with a soft chuckle and then the wind died and he looked up at the other martin.
"I am your future." Viand shrank back in terror; he wasn't looking at his mirror image any more. It was a more aged version of his present self, scars littering his body, fur missing in patches, but that wasn't the worst. Viand stared into his future self's eyes to find nothing; it was a skull, empty sockets from which nothing came. He found darkness there.
"What . . . how?" Viand found himself at a loss for words, but the eyeless martin simply laughed.
"Do not worry Viand, it is for the greater good. I can see more clearly now then you have ever." With that the snowy landscape and everything in it was swallowed up by darkness and Viand found himself sitting up on his cot in his tent, rain falling softly on canvas above. Lying back down he pondered the dream, considering calling upon Rikaaj for her interpretation, but he thought better of it. After all, they were just dreams.
~Chapter Twenty One~
The camp of Viand's horde was completely silent, the only sounds were those of the rain and winds, everything seemed to be still, as if the world were bracing itself. The army and slaves all enclosed in their tents, slaves under heavy guard, much heavier then usual. Aren sat, surrounded by his fellow otters, Jimene among them. They conversed in low tones, trying not to wake the guard who sat, half asleep and muttering softly, at the entrance to the tent.
"How long do you think it'll be?" Aren asked in a soft voice, shivering a little. The tent did very little to shield them from the cold and they weren't allowed a fire due to the lack of dry wood to be found in the forest off the path.
"By the looks of things, it shouldn't be too long . . ." An older otter, scarred heavily by the whips, answered as he held his wife close to him. "All of the soldiers have been readying their weapons for sometime."
"It can't be too long, ye can feel the tension out there . . .every beast is nervous." A young otter maid said in a quiet tone. She pointed to the guard sitting on the chair, his newly sharpened blade reflecting the moonlight.
"Aye, so what are we going to do 'bout it?" The older otter asked, his paw absentmindedly running through his wife's head fur.
"Good question, but wot can we do, we haven't got a plan at all." Aren muttered.
"We can get ready to do something, our numbers are pretty even with theirs after all. We can at least do something. I don't feel like waitin' 'round fer them to get us workin' on some castle." The otter muttered back, his tone forceful, filled with hatred for the shackles upon his wrists.
"That's all nice an' lovely Balin, but wot exactly do ye 'ave in mind." A younger otter, his eyes dark, answered angrily, his spirit having been crushed long ago.
"I don't know." Balin answered dejectedly, but he refused to give up on the idea. "There has got to be something fer us to do . . ."
"Wait an' hope mate, it's all we can do . . ." Some beast said as a flash of lightning lit up the tent and as the thunder passed over them, they were silenced. Hope was distant memory that kept them alive, but they had given up on actual hope. Then again, it was still what kept them alive.
Rain pounding down upon, Yuval stood leaning against a tree on the outer perimeter waiting for the young weasel maid to return from her mission. Ilana had been gone quite a while by now and the stoat was getting worried, his group had been dropping like flies and Yuval couldn't shake the suspicion that it was all according to Viand's grand plan.
"Damn that martin . . ." Yuval cursed under his breath, shaking his head slowly. He'd get even with the scum someday, too many friends had been lost on his mission and still no beast even knew why they were heading north. Sighing Yuval slid down against the tree, pulling his hood over his head, trying to get a bit of rest in. He hadn't been able to sleep for days, always having to watch his back; paranoia had been getting to him as of late.
"Yuval?" Before the stoat could fall into the comforting realms of unconsciousness, he found some beast standing over him. Yuval glanced up to find Ilana there, breathing heavy with her cloak caked with mud and debris, a strange sort for smile on her face.
"Ilana, you're back. Did you find something?" Yuval asked, getting to his feet quickly, he saw the strange look in the weasel maid' eyes, she had certainly found something, something big.
"Quick. Get the gang together, we need to meet outside of camp." Ilana told Yuval.
"Get the gang together? What did you find?" Yuval asked, curious. It was usually only on special occasions when Viand or Jalin called them, did their gang meet.
"I found something big, but I can't talk till ye get every beast 'ere. It's something real big." Ilana replied, pausing a moment to see the stoat's response, which was merely a continued look of confusion. "I'll wait 'ere an' you get 'em all down 'ere. This is important, trust me."
"Aye, don't worry Ilana, I do." Yuval muttered and quickly made his way towards the camp, disappearing into the dark. The stoat knew it had to be important or Ilana wouldn't have to get them all together. Soon, within few minutes or so, the stoat returned with about a score or so of beasts surrounding him. It was a diverse group, a collection of weasels, stoats, ferrets and rats with a stray otter and a pair of squirrels, collectively known as the 'Hunters'; they were a highly skilled group. Assassination, scouting, spying, fighting and tracking, they did it all, it was a definite blessing to any beast to be in control of their group.
"Is this every beast?" Ilana asked, looking around the group to see that indeed no beast was missing.
"Aye, tis all of us, 'cept for those dead or missin'." The lone otter of the group answered, leaning against a tree.
"Good because I found Kishara." The weasel maid said quickly, setting off a small ripple of murmurs in the hunters.
"Ye found Kishara? Alive an' well?" The otter asked, his demeanor absolutely serious.
"She certainly is. In fact . . ." Ilana began, but was quickly cut off.
"Ha mate, ye owe me now. Told ya she wasn't dead." The otter laughed as he collected a small bag of jewels from one of the squirrels that grumbled a little as he gave up his earnings.
"Kesh, will ye shut up an' let 'er talk?" Yuval demanded, shutting the otter up quickly.
"As I was saying, Kishara's alive an' well, but there is one thing." Ilana began again, bringing the volume down to a bare whisper that was nearly blocked out by the rain.
"Well spill it already."
"She has a plan to get revenge on Viand, but she needs all of our help." The hunters took the news well, not a single one of them were surprised by the news for they all knew Kishara. The weasel maid went on, repeating what Kishara had told her exactly, the hunter's response limited to simple nodding and as the rains continued to fall, Ilana finished and it began.
Once again he was lost in his dreams, the voices calling out to him, begging him to change the path of events to come. Viand found himself in that town again, he recognized a few of the buildings and could even point out the spot where he had been slain by an arrow. It was a different time though and everything was different there, all was silent, not a single beast stirred on the scarred battlefield. The skeletons of buildings standing surrounded by the ashes of their neighbors and somewhere beneath it all lay the bodies of those slain.
"Turn back." A voice demanded, it was the ferret maid again; she stood at the end of the street, standing on top of the ashes as if she were floating on it.
"Who are you?" The martin demanded, making his way through the town towards the ferret maid, leaving twin tracks through the gray ashes. The maid simply stood there, floating on the sea of ash, silently awaiting him.
"I am those that haunt your dreams, milord." She stated it as a simple fact, but it was merely a line of gibberish to Viand, his subconscious mind unable to comprehend her words.
"I'll ask you again ferret, who are you?" He demanded as he reached her side. The ferret maid was dressed in a strange white cloak that stood out as a bright contrast to the bleak gray that she had surrounded herself with. Her eyes were closed and her features were downcast.
"I am the shadows within your dreams, I am the memories that you have buried. I am the demon, which haunts you night and day." She answered, never opening an eye to look upon the pine martin lord.
"Make sense!"
"You cannot see milord. Your eyes deceive you at every turn, but the time is coming when you shall be born again to see the truth. It is coming milord." Slowly the ferret maid opened a single eye, glaring at him with disgust, a single sky blue eye piercing his soul.
"Then why do you tell me to run?" Viand asked, confused by the ferret's self-contradiction.
"You will see things you are not meant to see . . .the temple of the watchers shall be found . . .your unseeing eyes shall be your key." She said, opening her other eye to reveal a darker shade of blue, nearly black, the absolute opposite of its companion.
"Unseeing eyes?" Viand repeated softly. "What does that mean?"
"You shall see milord." The ferret maid replied, closing her eyes to the pine martin.
"Tell me." Viand demanded, angry at the ferret maid's quiet refusal.
"You shall see milord." She repeated, angrily Viand tried to grab her by the arm, but stumbled back clutching only ash and nothing more. Staring at the maid, he watched, as she seemed to crack before floating away as dust in an unfelt breeze, disappearing into the dark.
"What?" Viand tripped, falling onto the ashen landscape, he felt it give way and then there was nothing, but darkness as he fell. Turning himself in the air he found that he was falling down a long dark corridor, glancing to his sides he found doors whizzing and then there at the end, a shining red light. It was rushing up to meet him, a burning crimson point of light at first that grew and grew until it began to burn into his eyes. Screwing his eyes shut, Viand felt the winds beginning to whip by him as he continued to fall, throwing his paws in front of him to brace for impact, he waited for the ground to meet him.
But after time past by and the wind died out, he opened an eye to find that he was no longer falling; he was standing on solid ground at the end of a black corridor. A ray of light shone brightly at the opposite end, darkness and the unknown standing between them. Viands tread cautiously towards the light, glancing around nervously at the infinite darkness surrounding him. As he drew closer to it he felt a cold wind blowing into is face, pushing onward through it he found himself in a glistening snow covered landscape, white snow flakes falling gently from the sky, pushed this way and that by a gentle breeze.
Stepping out of the cave he found himself in the middle of a vast field of snow ringed by great pines, the sun was a gleaming yellow orb floating in a sea of blue sky marked with a few white clouds. Everything as far as the martin could see was covered in a thick coat of white snow, glancing towards the cave he found that it had disappeared with a sheet of white, melding into land as if it had never existed. Walking slowly the pine martin wandered into the center of the field, feeling the sun's warmth upon his fur, wondering in the back of his mind about where he was. He was completely alone, isolated in the field of white; there were no signs of civilization whatsoever, just an endless white.
"What is this?" Viand wondered aloud, glancing around at the white lands around him.
"This is the future of all, can you not see?" A voice murmured, but as he snapped his head towards the source of the sound he found nothing there, merely white snows and nothing more.
"What do you want?" Viand yelled, tired of playing games with the voices and never getting anywhere.
"I want nothing, I am merely here to act as your guide. I am an echo of your own self, nothing more, nothing less." Viand suddenly realized that it was not the same voice as before, this one was different, a very familiar voice to him. It some beast he knew, some beast he knew very well.
"Who are you really?" Viand asked, shrugging off the cold feelings that had swept over him despite the warm sun hanging above.
"That is a question you should ask yourself milord, for you would not want the answers that I have." The voice responded and then a wind swept across the field, kicking up snow as in went, instinctively Viand covered his eyes. When it had passed, the pine martin glanced up to find himself staring at the mirror image of himself, a perfect copy of himself.
"Who are you?" He demanded of his double, but the other pine martin simply shook his head slowly, almost in disbelief that he would ask such a simple question.
"I am you." The copy answered, his voice exactly the same yet subtly different somehow; Viand simply couldn't put his paw on it. There was definitely something different about the pine martin, it was not a perfect copy, something was off.
"No . . .you aren't, I know you aren't. You can't be." Viand shook his head slowly, glaring into the eyes off his other self.
"But I am Viand, I am you. You are correct though, I'm not you as well." The copy answered and then suddenly another wind blew around them, blinding Viand temporarily.
"Then who are you?" Viand yelled through the winds, but he was greeted only with a soft chuckle and then the wind died and he looked up at the other martin.
"I am your future." Viand shrank back in terror; he wasn't looking at his mirror image any more. It was a more aged version of his present self, scars littering his body, fur missing in patches, but that wasn't the worst. Viand stared into his future self's eyes to find nothing; it was a skull, empty sockets from which nothing came. He found darkness there.
"What . . . how?" Viand found himself at a loss for words, but the eyeless martin simply laughed.
"Do not worry Viand, it is for the greater good. I can see more clearly now then you have ever." With that the snowy landscape and everything in it was swallowed up by darkness and Viand found himself sitting up on his cot in his tent, rain falling softly on canvas above. Lying back down he pondered the dream, considering calling upon Rikaaj for her interpretation, but he thought better of it. After all, they were just dreams.