A/N: Udûn is basically the word for hell in this fic; just wanted to clear that up. Heh. Miso Chian is an inside joke; don't worry if you don't get it. If you do, you probably know me IRL. e.e
"What's a Neverborn?" Mordi asked, in a trembling voice.
Kash blew a forced breath from between his teeth. "The Neverborn were created…or rather, twisted…into their present form within the mountain of Shayol Ghul, nestled inside the Blightlands. They were once furres, long ago, but through the torture and abuse of the Dark One they lost all sense of normal being. Their very souls have been corrupted, and their bodies have wasted away. A single look from them can strike fear into the bravest furre, and sometimes even drive a victim mad. Neverborn have no true form; they are the essence of shadow and darkness, and where there are natural shadows, they can meld into them and become all but invisible. Even where there are none, they create a shadow of their own, one that draws all light near it into their abyss…They can see only in the Shadow-world, but their sense of smell is so refined that they can sense the life-blood of a creature from a half-mile away. The only known weakness of theirs is water; they will not wade into anything more than waist deep, and even then, at the utmost distaste. Sunlight also deters them; they cannot hide when their shadow is there for all to see. They were, truthfully, never born."
Mordi fell silent, wishing she had held her tongue.
"We leave by dawn. The Neverborn are sly creatures; they're hardly above an ambush."
That night, they set up camp again underneath the little alcove. It was cramped, and no one even suggested starting a fire, which Mordi didn't mind much. When they unpacked the blankets and made ready for bed, she could not help peering out into the black night for any sight of a shadow, or cocking her ears for any sound of hooves. She tried to sleep, but she kept shifting, thinking of nothing but that dark shadow. Kash seemed to be the only one asleep; at any rate, Mordi hoped that it was a light one. Tam moved not at all, but with the glint of the moon's light Mordi saw that his eyes were wide open as well.
Sighing, Mordi closed her eyes and snuggled deeply into her thin blanket, trying to drive away the dark thoughts that invaded her head.
* * *
When Mori'gaia had heard of Mordi and Tam's exodus, she was furious – that she hadn't been brought along. Now, she sat on a small wood stool in her room, idly twirling her finger within the water of a pitcher; she was supposed to be readying herself for bed, but the night kept her awake, and her thoughts were too muddled from the previous day that it was hardly a surprise that she was wide awake.
A loud, whinnying cry was heard. It had a scream-like quality to it that Gaia could not place; but at the same time, an odd feeling came over her. She quickly withdrew her hand from the pond, disgustedly, eyes carrying a fiery glow. She was angry. Angry at the water, angry at the thing that had screamed, angry at Mordi for leaving, angry at Tam for following, angry at Kati for being with Tam…
She snarled, hardly aware she was doing so, hand brushing aside the pitcher, unaware as to the clatter it made as the pottery impacted the floor, surprisingly, without breaking. In the back of her mind, there was a voice, a crying, plaintive voice that wondered what had happened, what fell beast had taken control of her body…
Just as suddenly as it had come, it had gone, and Morgai was left standing there with her teeth bared in a rictus, and ignorant as to why. Blinking, she covered her teeth, and backed away from the spilt contents of the pitcher. For an odd reason she could not place, she hated the water – hated it with as much of the emotion that was in her. Turning, she padded toward her bed, sitting down while her face contorted into a deep frown. What just happened? What was that? Who was that inside my mind?
Shaking her head, she rose and padded quietly toward her bedroom door. Peeking out, she snuck to the doorway; grabbing a lantern and some flint on the way out. Once outside upon the cool grass, she hastily lit the lantern – quickly, for she had an odd talent for starting fires – and headed toward the village library, wondering lazily if she had the energy to deal with the monstrous head librarian known as Miso Chian. Already the strange feelings were buried beneath a stack of other, more important thoughts.
The grass masked her pawtreads, enough so that most wouldn't have heard if she had been within a stride of them. A few people were about; it was just after sunset, and the glow of the sun had all but faded from the night sky. Not terribly late, but she winced anyway. It was after dinner, but that didn't mean that chores were not to be done. Stifling a groan at the thought, she gave a start at finding herself at the library so soon. All other thoughts rushed from her head as she quietly opened the door, formulating a plan to escape the dominant creature here.
As if thinking the name had summoned her, Miso Chian appeared before Gaia, arms crossed beneath her breasts while her foot tapped the floor irritably.
"Why you no be bringing back the book on time?" Miso said in a commanding tone. The female musteline acted as if she was the head of every country on the face of the World; at the least, she was queen of her library. Her foreign accent marked her as a rare immigrant to their village; her strange way of talking announced her as Naillaner
With a small start she remembered: she had borrowed a book from the library, only to have lost it. If that witch finds out… Eyes darting to and fro for an avenue of escape, she muttered "Uhh…I don't know?"
A tight-lipped frown caught Miso's lips; Gaia braced herself for one of the librarian's infamous upbraidings.
* * *
In the morning, Mordi awoke to the noise of scraping. Barely awake, she sat up, opening her eyes until they were bare slits, and no more. She saw Kash squatting on the ground, ladling stew into a bowl. Tam was still asleep; from the state of his blankets (thrown askew), he had gotten about as much sleep as Mordi had, which was close to none. There was not much light, only the cold glow that preceded dawn; the air held a fresh chill to it.
Not looking up from what he was cooking, Kash said, "You're up. Good." He gave Mordi a bowl filled with some kind of stew, along with a wooden spoon. "Here. Eat. You'll need your energy." Drowsily, Mordi took the bowl, her head nodding. Kash flicked her cheek; Mordi's eyes snapped wide open, then fell half-closed again. "Not a good night's sleep, eh?" he said, mouth twisting into a wry grin. Mordi's reply was a feeble attempt to feed herself; she missed her mouth. Feeling the hot liquid spill down her vest, she snapped semi-awake. Tam emitted a loud yawn as she struggled to wipe the steaming stew off of her. To Mordi's senses, it smelled like meat of some kind; where Kash had found the time to hunt, skin, and butcher an animal was completely beyond her at the moment; she could hardly concentrate on more than one task, anyway. Sighing with fatigue, she set to feeding herself diligently.
After everyone had eaten, Tam gathered up everything hurriedly, though he was careful in his inspection of the camp afterwards. They made their way briskly out of the little alcove, and had soon left the camp far behind them.
***
Glancing around, Mordi sighed. For all the eye could see, there was nothing but low hills, sheathed in a covering of tall grass. The monotony of the scenery was occasionally broken by a scraggly copse of trees. Worse, she had had to put up with it for four days. Her legs hurt; she wasn't surprised. Even though she was the fastest runner in her village, she had never walked twenty miles a day for four days. Back bent under the weight of the bag she now hoisted along with each step, Mordi looked forward: toward the high hills that had now loomed above them for the better part of a day.
They trudged on, oblivious to anything that crossed their path unless it carried promise of food or water; Kash seemed to be the only one not succumbing to the dread disease that plagued Mordi and Tam: boredom. Mordi had glared at Kash's back enviously numerous times, and Tam had taken up muttering to himself under his breath for the past ten miles.
Suddenly, a faint tickle in her ears brought Mordi's head jerking up. Nothing could be seen, but while the scenery had remained virtually unchanged for so long, Mordi had gotten used to the abrupt silence of the plains, known as the Caralain grass, and the usual clinking and padfalls of her companions. Now, at the reach of her hearing, the disturbance manifested itself: a steady, drumming rhythm. Kash held up a hand; Tam halted, nearly running into Kash, and Mordi followed in actions, though more gracefully. The sound was closer now; close enough so she could recognize their origin; they were the beat of a horse's hooves upon the terrain.
I know I'm mean with the cliffies. e.e Sorry about the delay for this chappie; I had to go back and redo the first four chapters because I suddenly was stricken with a better idea. O.o Anyway, review. Now. Or I'll hurt you. J (just kidding…we hope…mwahahah…)
