Specters of the Void: Part 3
Deep in the depths of an impenetrable fortress, whose walls were of mist and whose roof was the sky, there was a chamber where souls of the living repented and souls of the dead felt remorse. A torture chamber of the worst kind, one of the human mind. The instrument of their torture was a mirror, in which they could see everything they were. They attempted to tear their eyes from the vision time and time again, but to no effect, for they were meant to suffer.
The moon remembered. She did not know why she had not remembered before, but neither could she recall more. She supposed it had something to do with the mortal who had crossed the border into her world. There was, after all, only a slender line between a nightmare and the Land of Souls.
I had been walking for a short while, having picked out a direction between the trees to walk, and hoping I could maintain it. I would have gone towards the setting moon if I just could have seen her clearly through the boughs of the trees. Soon, I hoped, the sun would rise and I would better acquaint my myself with my surroundings.
The moon was just bright enough that I could use her beams to discern between trees and walking space, but not as bright as to reveal many of the colors I was sure decorated my surroundings. But what noise was that? I harkened to the night, which had uttered no sound to my ears except the moan of the trees under the pressure of the soft but chilly breeze. If I had not known better, I would have thought my straining ears picked out the softest melody; a tune from the lips of a fellow mortal I would have hoped. But it could not be. Could it be? Perhaps it was. Forgetting my path, I made my way, quickly as I dared, in the general direction from which I believed the “voice” to have issued.
Suddenly, all light around me disappeared. I started in surprise, and in this movement tripped on a branch and fell flat on my face. I lay, and almost immediately realized that once again a thick cloud had covered the moon. I groaned inwardly. Was this world and everything in it determined not only to keep me within its borders, but also to keep me from gaining any knowledge of itself? But again the singing began, slightly louder this time, and I listened in delight.
To be continued…
By Chaidie Petris