Chapter 2 - Beyond the veil

When Mordread head finally crossed the threshold, he greedily sucked the cold air. But before he could understand what was happening he started to sink again, the complete darkness that leaves no sight of where he might be or what was happening, prompted him into a desperate attempt to escape the grasp below, would take some seconds of flailing helplessly to keep himself afloat enough to swimming in a random direction hoping find solid ground.

Thankfully it was but a few feet away from where he was when he feels the banks of sand and stone he never feel more relieved, and well… like a drowning man, he lunged himself over it and got to the shore. Where he crawled his way out of the water back to his feet, tumbling and out of air he had time enough to look around. His body looked fine, aside from the exhaustion and have almost drowned, but he keep blink rapidly because he couldn’t be sure if he was with eyes closed or open, until he turned around and saw the platinum reflection on the water he just left, perfectly still, like if he hasn't just crawled his way out of it, looking around revealed a terrible, a bad and a maybe good news.

Now that he was “safe” the adrenaline rush was in rapid decline, and the already tired body was making convincing arguments to just fall back to the ground, however all his instinct is warning him against it, while in the look for the platinum light source of the lake, nothing could be found and also don’t reflected anything aside from the eerie platinum light. But his effort was not for nought, after he looked back to where he was crawling towards, the shine outline could be seen at the distant, and when he tried to move toward it the effects of his body becoming less responsive, just after a couple of steps his was already out breathing and tumbling two steps to the side and one forward. He was sure that clearly wasn’t a light source, but something was reflecting there, and for now was enough for him, his mind now filling with haze.

His objective was but a dozen steps away, each of them was incredibly laborious. In his small journey, he saw some other shining trinkets slight outside the path, some of them are towering behemoth and others small as a mouse, but he keeps dead set on that first spark, he couldn’t trust his even more tired mind than he could trust his slightly less tired mind from before.Still, his wandering mind rambled out about it:

'Surely the words of almost dead men of 10 seconds ago is way more trustworthy than the words of dead men of 2 seconds ago… genius...'

When Mordread finally arrived, was but some kind of black metallic boxy armchair still illuminated by a light that he couldn’t see. However, what filled his mind wasn’t the sense of accomplishment but futility, looking at his ‘prize’ was just a chair. While he tried to give a self-deprecating laugh his body couldn’t resist anymore and his turbid vision blacked out over it.

The next time Mordread wake up was in a completely different place, with a distant grave and ominous sound. The mind was at least clear now, but the body unresponsive and the eyes heavy to go back to sleep, trying to open the eyes he thought:

'The first time I open my eyes on this new world and my great entrance was interrupted by almost drowning.'

But trying to force it open turned to be a more difficult task than he imagined, and after weighing his possibilities, he decides to explore more pressing facts, while he slowly moved each one of his muscle.

'Two legs; ok, one head; no, problem. Two arms, well… ok. Five fingers, hum… No tail, no wing, tentacle or any other new or extended appendix… wait... male. Well, a good sign? No, I need to focus. Ok, but, with so many bodies and possibilities and yet a humanoid one…' - Mordread let a long sigh - 'Is because great for my luck or is as unforgiven as I imagined? at least I can hope for some dragon skin or something…wait there... that voice… could be…'

After shaking his head to clear the mind, he was satisfied with exploring his new body and once again Mordread forced the eyes to open. Now was visible easier, but still filled with blurred figures and dark interiors.

'Maybe my prayers were heard and aside from everything normal I was born with fish eyes to be blurred all the time, great...'

As if hearing Mordread complains the figures are slowly taking shape, that grave sound once again resounded, now very close, he could almost feel the place he was slightly trembling.

A great hall extended before him, that sadly he couldn’t discern it exactly scope with his eyes still on this state and his surroundings poorly illuminated between complete dark and slightly less dark, an effect of the gigantic hole on the left wall that extended all the way to the ceiling and small orange sparks scattered around.

Attracted by the main light source, his head turned to the see the sky hole. must be clouded as Mordread could vaguely see the pale hue of the moon behind it, but it wasn’t this cold light that illuminated the room, but the warm light of fire, that was raising somewhere behind the hill, not very far from where he is seated, but the sound of its source couldn’t reach with the strong wind blowing.

Knowing that would be impossible to discern the geography in this darkness, he turned back to the hall, and focused on the left lighter side, that was particularly full of wreckage, big and small pieces of stone are prominent laying around, probably from the fallen column that was in the direction of whatever made the hole. Making the probably 4 pair of columns, that support the endless ceiling. As the incongruous feeling in see the hole in the ceiling edgy but when he tracked anything going after a feel meters disappeared into dark above.

'Dark adobe maybe…'

The two columns could be seen close to each other at the far end of the hall while the other is evenly spaced between the now fallen and the other two.Making the only one that Mordread had a good look of what suppose to be the columns. A 60 cm circle wide made only of stone, without any fancy detail sculpted but a metallic outer layer circlet that gave the impression that was twisted and torn, that took Mordread a moment to guess what may be, but soon figured, is a brazier or what remains of it, most of the metallic basket is barely hanging on the pillar, while other had already torn at it feet, alongside the big pieces of glass.

Noticing that the number of glass and metal pieces that was spread on the wreckage, was far greater than expected and that confused Mordread until a moving red color was caught at the left corner of the vision, it was the dark red curtain that he hasn't seen covering the large stained glasses, in fact almost all the left wall was just a mix of stained glass and pillars like rib bones between the windows, making most of the left hole but remain of the gigantic stainless glass, hidden behind the red curtains. Curtains that with the blowing wind the fluorescent blue drawing on it was revealed capturing mordread attention.

'This…'

But before could delve further on trying to read with the blurred vision, was a light green particle that floated in front of him and unlike the rest wasn’t a blurred, dark silhouette, making stick out on the same second, that quick flow to somewhere above him, or more correctly a little in front of him. Because over his head a massive raw crystal the size of a melon with all sharp edgy and rough asymmetrical shape was secured by a couple of chains and crude metal pieces that like the columns extended to the black infinite, giving the illusion that is just floating there. That green speck of light joined others colorful specks that danced around the crystal, sometimes going inside, sometimes going out, each second that passed more and more light points surrounded the crystal. Making him remember the ‘canvas’ and say;

'No… this is more alive and… free. Like fireflies.'

He hasn't noticed when he first started at it but every time a colorful speck got inside the crystal it never left, and the dead center of the crystal a black and white light see to shine and dim at each new speck that entered, but was the smell of burnt wood and flesh that drifted from the right that urged for his attention.

What he saw scared him slight, making him almost jump out of the armchair, just a few meters away almost at the corner of the room, a big ball of almost faded fire, only ambers now, however unlike it originator the a great collection of books and scrolls was scattered and burning weirdly silent and with the help of the gigantic hole on the left the probably almost dead ember rekindled once again making the remains scatter in the wind, he slowly raised his arm try to stop it but knowing it futility still tried to grab a slow rising of a half-burnt page with a figure of something in detail draw in, but as his hand tried to close in before was gentle wind surge blowing it away creating micro tornados, with it ashes remains.

However mordread eyes weren't following the ashes anymore but a suspiciously placed crevice, forming straight lines and curved ones. In a sudden turn of head he once again tracked the scene before him, on both dark and lighter side of the hall is there, and always have been this strange etched interconnected crevices,under the remains of the columns, the metallic brazier, on the chains holding the crystal and even on the stained glass.

In this sudden moment of revelation, while at the edge of the armchair, Mordread sudden howled in pain while pressing his eyes. The overstrained eyes gave him a backbite, giving an excruciating experience as if nails have been pierced on the inside of his head. Fortunately for him, the worst of the pain go away as suddenly as it came and only left a discomforting “burn” in the eyes and a headache. Now free from the torture, the sudden tired Mordread fall back to the stone armchair and eve hit the head on it, making a frustrated expiration, while using his right hand supported by the chair and massaging his eyes trying to soothe the pain, without a care of how he is seated.

And for the final time Mordread heard the grave sound that definitely shacked the castle, but after pausing slight, Mordread keeps treating his eyes. When at the end of the room the rusted hinges resound announcing a presence of someone, but the moon slowly rising from behind the clouds that the first rays of moonlight hit him straight in the eye, prompting Mordread to slight grid his teeth, but besides protecting his view he decides to bide his time, while the “'seared' pain feeling is about to pass, while his mind for some reason wander on the question of making such massive hinders that echo so far.

The sound of metal boots brought Mordread back to reality, and watching in between the gaps of his fingers, the sight was finally restored, gaining an almost inaudible snort, while thinking on all that had to pass before he could see.

However the hall was quiet and the swordsmen haven’t taken kindly the snort, and it confident face frowned slightly before going back to what it was. When he stopped a few meters away from the throne, that Mordread mind focused on him. And Thought on his head.

'Finally, it was already time for this game start.'