27
ENCROACHING DARKNESS
GABRIEL
Time does not exist in this place. Days have passed since I first ended up here. Or maybe weeks? Months? I have no idea.
This place is nothing but darkness and ice and that shimmering golden rope that remains frustratingly out of reach no matter how far I walk.
The only other thing here is that voice.
It is the sole reason I have retained my sanity, frayed though it may be, the only thing that has kept me from losing everything. It speaks to something deep inside me, urging me to stay and fight.
Sometimes, the voice is pleading with me to come back. I’d love to, but I don’t know where I am.
Other times, it scolds me. For some reason, I don’t mind that at all.
But the best times, the ones I cherish and hold dear even as the temperature plummets and the night threatens to swallow me whole, are the ones when the voice is soft.
A reverent whisper meant for my ears alone.
“Come back to me.”
“I need you.”
“Someone’s here to see you.” A wet nose touches what I think is my hand, but the feeling is far away. Detached.
“We moved,” the voice says quietly. I think more time has passed. “I don’t know if you remember, but we were traveling for over a week. We’re in the woods now. There’s a window, and we can see the suns. I think you’d like it... I think you’d feel at home here.”
It sounds so lovely, and I try so desperately to get there. To reach the voice, but I can’t.
The suns-damned fucking cold is getting more intense. The flames haven’t returned, and somehow, that’s worse. A sign of impending doom, I think. The voice is still here, and their whispered words are the only thing giving me strength.
“Wake up and talk to me. Yell at me. Just say something.”
A lovely sigh has me yearning to get closer. “I’ve been practicing my magic, and I can’t wait to show you what I learned.”
A wistful murmur. “I miss the sound of your voice.”
Most of the time, there is only one word. “Please.”
It’s quiet and broken, a knife to my heart. The speaker, whoever she is, sounds as worn out as I feel.
There is an edge in the air, and it’s almost comforting in a way that has alarm bells sounding in my mind. It’s a promise of peace, endless nothingness, and an eternity of solitude.
All I need to do is stop fighting and let the cold take over.
The thought of letting everything go is tempting. Gods above, it would be easier than this. But the only thing stopping me, the only thing keeping me from giving in, is that voice. Every time I hear it, I’m reminded of why I’m still holding on.
Because of that voice, I fight. I push back against the darkness. I walk through the frozen expanse. And I try and try and fucking try to touch the shimmering golden rope that remains frustratingly out of reach.
Something has shifted.
The darkness seems thicker. Muddier. More absolute. The air is heavier. The cold, deadlier.
Somehow, I know this is the end. I have remained in this place for the suns only know how long, and my time is ending. Adros is calling my name, beckoning me to join him beyond the Veil.
I have fought against the cold, pushed back against the darkness, and struggled to reach that glimmering cord, all to no avail. The golden thread is closer, a feat I’ve achieved after walking towards it every moment I can, but it’s still so fucking far away.
