Sorry for the delay in continuing this story, I have some time now to really put more effort into it and I hope you all enjoy. Snork Maiden 03-06-2002
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The hot desert sand stretched out undulating irregularly into the distance to meet the blue of the cloudless sky. The heat conducting through the thick leather soles of his sandals scorched his feet and the sand spilled unrelentingly between his toes irritably as he strode forward. The sun shone brightly, a white hazy disc, its light too fierce to regard with unshielded eyes. Its rays seemingly piercing his skin like a thousand tiny red-hot needles. The sand stuck to his skin, blending with the salt that had been left behind as his perspiration evaporated, white trails that tracked across his sunburnt forehead to his reddened sore eyes. The hot dry air burnt his nose and dried his throat scentless and thin. His lungs expanded again filling with the arid atmosphere as it passed through his cracked and chaffed lips. If there was a hell on Vosyn this was surely it.
The sand was interrupted only by the occasional rock or the sun bleached skeletal remains of some poor unfortunate creature or man that had succumbed to the unforgiving terrain and the cruel radiance of the sun. As he pressed on the horizon became hazy, shimmering, distorting his vision. The end was near now he knew it. Above the group of buzzards circled, his only companions in this deserted land. Some swooped lower, their courage growing as his own strength ebbed slowly from his legs. Managing to cover a further fifty yards or so he fell to his knees. His face raised towards the heavens in some gesture of pleading. He could hear the flapping of the large carrion beasts as two of them settled near by. Filling the air with the sound of their cruel cries, they hopped and edged closer to him, a vile, hungry gleam in their eyes, almost mocking him as they stretched their wings. He waved his arm weakly in their direction, an attempt to scare them back into the sky. They halted momentarily, standing and watching as he strained to raise himself to his feet. Consumed with fatigue he collapsed finally his face hitting the hot soft sand.
With a final effort he raised his head once more, four more vultures had now joined their companions and moved inexorably towards him. The heat haze and his exhaustion played tricks with his eyes. In the final moments before slipping into unconsciousness he was sure he saw two figures walking towards him, an old man and a young woman. The man was dress in green robes with a white beard that flowed from his face to almost his waist, the woman dressed in deep blue, with gold edging that glittered in the sunlight, her long black hair flowing over her shoulders and back, her eyes violet sparkled with youth and wisdom. On her arm sat a falcon, its hooded head twitched occasionally sensing, hearing the cries of the vultures nearby. She smiled at him gently as he passed out for the last time; it seemed as if the sand was shifting and he was being sucked downwards into the ground, a mist formed in his mind and then it was black.
The mist started to rise and he felt strangely cool. The change in temperature was soothing to his sun ravaged skin. Still cooler the air became and a sense of suffocation filled his mind, gasping for oxygen that was not there, his lungs ached and he was filled with panic. The mist thickened and his vision became blurred. He was still conscious of that he was certain pinching himself to prove it no this wasn’t a dream. His panic deepened as he fought to breath in the stifling atmosphere. Was he falling?. The sensation of being suspended was very real and he waved his arms about him. Yes he must be, there was no ground below him, above him or around him yet in this grey mist he was unaware of any motion at all. If he was falling then surely he would feel the rush of air against him, but the air was still.
The mist was thinning again now and a bright silvery light illuminated the vastness around him revealing shapes in shades of grey. ‘Night Time?’, he thought to himself, yet only half convincingly. Certainly the ghostly light gave the distinct impression of night, and the coolness around him strengthened the idea, yet he could see as far now as on a clear summers day. Looking around him as the last few wisps of mist dissipated, he could see conduits of light twisting in and out of view like huge water spouts, here and there the greyness was interrupted by pools of colored light. He watched a blue one below him, rotating slowly like a disc, yet as it moved and rotated he could see it had one side only as it drew to a line and winked out of existence the slowly moments later reappeared and grew again. Hypnotised by the disk his mind wandered. In the distance he could make out a small outcrop of land. It too, rotated as he watched and as it drew near he could see small pieces of rock and debris floating past him in all directions.
He started to make swimming motions, resolving to reach this island, but with nothing to pull against, his position remained unchanged. He was startled when he felt the tap on his shoulder. Turning his head sharply, the rest of his body refusing to comply, he could make out the face of an elderly man gazing at him with a puzzled expression on his face.
‘I see you made it through the mist.’, the old man said moving slowly around him, and fiddling with his beard. ‘Question is, what are you going to do now?’