Chapter Six

Norn wasn’t much of a talker, his brother Elrik had taken that mantle. Now the silence seemed to suffocate. He found himself in odd places, wandering, always staring out toward the forest. Elrik had been taken from up north, near the lumberyards. They’d found his helm and boots, shredded to bits, covered in a thick viscous slime. The captain had sent a request for more Resonants, the boy had been useless so far. What was taking them so long? He had half a mind to go to Aetrum himself, but then, who would be here for his brother—if he returned.

The not knowing was eating him. The tracks had led to a nearby river, same as the others.

“You’ll catch a cold, patrolling out here alone.”

Elrik stood. His arms were crossed, and he leant against a brick wall as the full and pale moon hung across his shoulder blade. Norn saw his teeth, grinning, partially hidden behind that bird’s nest of a beard. He wasn’t wearing his pyre garb, instead he had casual attire for fishing. A leather jerkin and a few thatched sacks slung across his chest. Elrik pushed off from the wall, walking up to Norn and planting both his hands on his hips.

“You look like shit, brother.”

Norn felt his hand tremble at his side. The pull forward—to reach out and clasp Elrik’s shoulder—to embrace him. Thirteen, he’d forgotten how he smelled. He could barely describe it: burnt blissroot, which he had started smoking to recall. Try as he might though, it was not the same. Not the same as each day together. Norn felt his arm clench, stopping himself from moving. He could not handle what would happen if he reached out. Elrik noticed, glancing down.

“You’ve got to accept it.”

Yes, he would have said it just like that. Then he would have smiled and cracked a joke. Norn wasn’t good at jokes.

He walked around the empty space where Elrik had stood. Further out of town, away from Mora, toward the forests. The pale light was bright here, with little cover to block it. Wooden fences, dirt roads, the occasional lone tree—still as silvery stone. He reached into his side pouch, pulling out a pipe, his fingers trembled as he tried to stuff something pale-yellow into it. It slipped from his fingers.

“Shit.”

He leant down and felt the world press against his back. He stumbled over into the grey dirt. Fumbling, hands pinching both dust and plant-fibre, his breathing was shallow and he felt something burning behind his eyes. He held it back. Placing the pipe in the dirt he grabbed his flint and tried to spark it. The flash of embers illuminated his grimy face. C’mon, please. Please. He struck again. Then again. The sparks flashed white and he was back in the lumberyard, staring down at the discarded remnants of his brother’s boots. They were still, resting side by side, one leaning against the other. Just light, for once in your life, do something right. Please. He’d found them by the walkway near a large saw. The boots were a faded green, dyed for his brother by the apothecary. Elrik had loved those boots—took them everywhere.

The flint sparked. He huddled around the pipe.

Norn gently blew on the burning embers, trying to keep them alive. It worked. He sighed with relief. Standing, he placed his lips on the other end and drew in a steady breath. It’s heat spread through-out his lungs and filled his mind, immediately cushioning his prickling thoughts. His fingers stopped shaking. The bitter chill of the night did not seem as biting now, the barest relief. Norn trudged further out from Mora, heading north. He pulled his coat tighter, the cold yet to be banished, and climbed higher until he reached the treeline. He coughed, regarding the wall of trees ahead. Azirast. Here the moonlight filtered through pines, specks flitting as they swayed. The dark of the forest enveloped him.

It was a narrow and winding trail. As he walked, the trees steadily transitioned. Once in neat rows, they now crawled and sprawled over each other, a frenzied tangle to the top. Twigs snagged at his clothes, he winced, trying to dispel the image of fingers clawing at him, faces emerging from the dark. Howling. Norn and his brother had fleed from Imul, but it had left it’s mark. A touch that left him feeling tainted. And now he was alone with it. He didn’t have the strength to keep going, he couldn’t keep taking these days. Waiting and wondering if Elrik would ever return, if he was even still alive. Norn saw him leaning against a tree, that same smile. The light crept up his face, revealing his lips, nose, and two sockets where his eyes should be.

Norn emerged from the wood, entering into the clearing of a lumberyard. This was where he had been taken. He could hear the water rushing in the distance, squeaking metal. This place had already grown so large since it’s construction. In the distance he could see torchlight, a patrol, guarding the workers and tools. He kept to the treeline, pressing against the wall of a warehouse.

Eventually Norn found his way to the river. Upstream, water raged against a large wooden wheel, churning around the sluice gate therefore leaving it still. The water was shallow enough to tread through. However, Norn kept to the bank, he’d already explored the other side of the river, all throughout the woods. But what if the abducters hadn’t crossed the river? Sure there were plenty of tracks that led from that side, but he could not shake the notion that these attacks had happened near the river for a reason.

He looked toward the lumberyard. If they had used boats to abduct people, then he only had two options to follow: upstream or down. If that was the case, it would be very difficult to head upstream and manage to sneak past the lumberyard guard. So downstream it was. Norn crunched along the bank, hand on his sword.

The forest was almost quiet, which he decided was worse than silence. Each sound made clearer, jolting his sluggish mind. Norn walked till his legs began to ache, he found himself calling out for Elrik. He kept seeing him. Leaning against trees, eyes shadowed, watching him from a distance. He was in the patterns of trees, across the silvery water and gazing down from the skies above. Norn heard skittering and rustling from distant bushes, something moving outside his vision.

He stopped when he could hear the crashing of ocean waves. Had he really made it all the way to the shores of Mora? The blissroot was already starting to wear off, and with it a dull ache to his mind. His eyelids felt stuck to his eyes, he rubbed his grizzled chin, he hadn’t shaved in a while. Norn walked over to the river and fell to his knees at the bank. The water flowed gradually here. He plunged both hands in and splashed his face, feeling an immediate and refreshing shock of cold water. He drank from it, enjoying the reprieve of cool water. Enjoying the newfound awareness, and dawning realisation of how far he had to walk back, Norn turned as a twig snapped.

“Hello?” He said.

There was no movement, but a cold shiver ran down his back. Neither the wind nor water had caused the shiver, though he could not explain why, it had been caused by the feeling of being watched. He slowly rose, back facing the water, and looked out into the forest. His hand rested on the sword and his boot crunched a step forward.

“Who goes there?” He called out.

His call was met with laughter. It was so quiet, and it started coming from all directions. It sounded more like a mimicry of laughter, something about it was distinctly inhuman. Metal scraped against scabbard as he drew his sword, angling it toward where the twig had snapped, and keeping his head on a swivel everytime the laughter emerged from somewhere new. They were trying to distract. Elrik watched him from beneath the pale light of a small clearing. He could see him mouthing words, no, a single word. Repeating it.

Run.

Norn dashed for the coastline, he could at least see what he was fighting out in the open. As he did, he heard yelps and growls. Dogs? He turned back, and saw white skulls. Doglike creatures with slick dark skin and deep violet veins, they were wearing skulls on their heads. The laughter grew louder as they chased. One tackled him, he spun in the air slicing across it’s chest. The creature yelped and crawled into the water, and the others slowed. He quickly got back up. They began to circle him once more, closing in. He could see them better in the moonlight now. The skulls did not look human, they looked like no animal he had ever seen. He noticed they were melded into the creatures skin, but he did see small tendrils wiggling through the eye sockets. Elrik stood behind them, eyes empty.

Run.

Norn swiftly turned and could see the coastline now. The creatures circled to the left, pushing him right, toward the rock pools. Were they… herding him? He crested up a hill and turned back around, sword pointed out. They hunched low, quiet. There were five now, not including the one he’d injured. The laughter returned as they crept toward him, and something else, chattering. The skulls splitting down the centre and slowly opening. Were these what had gotten Elrik? He felt his anger rising. His back was too a small cliff face, he could likely leap down but he didn’t know how steep it was. Also, if these things had been luring him to the pools, who knew what fresh horrors awaited for him there. Yet, none of that mattered. These things had killed Elrik. He was going to make them pay.

Fight.

Norn swung at the closest, cleaving through bone and shattering it to splinters. Another leapt forward, teeth emerging from behind bone white. He managed to raise the sword in time to block. He kicked that one away into another behind it. They yelped, tumbling down the hillside. He felt a burst of victory as something pierced his neck. It was quick, like a jab. The tendril slithered back behind the skull mask of one of the creatures. He raised his hand, feeling where it had punctured. There was not much blood, so why did he feel so lightheaded?

Norn looked at his fingers and saw something violet mixed with the red of his blood. This was his blood, wasn’t it? A part of his mind, a part of himself that he’d assigned to Elrik’s voice, told him to move. He stumbled toward the cliff face. Another jab stung his leg. The laughter getting louder. He looked out across the ocean and saw a great dark circle. It would have been impossible to notice if not for the three figures standing in the centre of it. Did one of them… look like Elrik?

Norn stumbled over the cliffside, hand reaching out for his brother.