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Uncertainty and confusion cloud my brain as the remnants of the gateway disappear before me. Pushing up onto my elbows, I shake my head, trying and failing to clear the fog consuming my mind.
“Where the fuck am I?” I blurt out loud, hoping someone will hear me, but as I slowly clamber to my feet, I’m more than sure that will not happen.
There’s no one around me. There’snothingaround me. It’s just me and the orange and cream shades of sandstone under my feet that go on as far as the eye can see.
13
RAVEN
Seconds drift into minutes which fade into hours. I keep walking, putting one foot in front of the other, despite having no fucking clue where I’m actually going or even if I’m even heading in the right direction.
The sandstone beneath my feet hasn’t changed, going on for miles and miles as I wonder if I’m stuck in a time loop or something. The only sign that the world is moving around me is that the sun is slowly setting. It’s falling to my right, my only indication that I’m moving south. It’s a risky move, but after considering how doom and gloom Shadowmoor and Ashdale are described, I would assume that this is the complete opposite. I am betting all my chances on the fact that I’m still north of Silvercrest. If I ever find a town or a sign, then I can reassess.
It serves as a reminder that I was supposed to be getting ready for the party now and I wonder if anyone has realized I’m not there. The Bishops are likely enjoying some peace and quiet, and Leila probably won’t notice until she’s ready to leave.
I’m going to die out here.
Perfect.
What a way to go, and at the hand of Sebastian too. That’s what pisses me off the most.
Is this where my life starts to flash before my eyes? The world tilting on its axis to remind me of all the mistakes I’ve made and all the things I never got to experience?
Sighing, I roll my neck, trying to ease the tension that has caused my muscles to bunch together.
I need to stop being so dramatic and keep pushing. Something will eventually appear on the horizon; a glimmer of hope, somewhere to take shelter, or even somewhere to find a drink. At this stage, I’d take a mirage, anything, just something more than the orange and cream rock formations surrounding me.
Hiking my backpack up my shoulders, I kick at the stones as I walk. As if seeing the sandstone in every direction I turn isn’t enough, I’m covered in it too. It clings to my uniform and skin with a vengeance I wish to harness for myself.
“Raven.”
I freeze, a chill running down my spine as I glance around. Where the fuck did my name just come from? When nothing appears, I’m sure it’s a figment of my imagination and I continue walking. I’ve only taken a handful of steps when I hear it again.
“Raven.”
It’s like my name is floating on the wind, cocooning around me as the rest of the scenery remains the same.
“Raven.”
Wetting my parched lips, I spin on the spot. “Hello?” My voice is meeker than I would prefer, but my spine is ramrod straight with anticipation.
All I can hear is my breath, surrounded by silence, which confirms it’s all in my head.
Fuck.
Placing the sun to my right again, I take two more steps before I’m stopped dead in my tracks by a hard chest. I gasp, startled by the obstruction, and look up to find Creed staring down at me with a frown firmly locked in place.
“Creed?” I’m sure he’s the mirage I’ve been waiting for, but when I lift my hand to his chest, testing his actual presence, he doesn’t disappear. “Creed?”
“Where the fuck have you been?”
My head rears back, my eyebrows pinching at his tone as I wave my hand around. “Where does it look like I’ve been?”
Shaking his head, Creed squeezes my shoulders before taking a step back. “Don’t go anywhere.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him where the hell he thinks I’m going to go, but it’s too late. He’s already disappeared. Glancing from left to right, I blink, confused as hell over what’s just happened, when a rift rips through the air in front of me. One by one, the Bishops step through the anomaly, their frowns getting darker as each one lays eyes on me.
I’ve been pleading for help, a savior to spite the depressive wasteland I’m stuck in, but by the looks on their faces, I’d rather face this mess alone.
