The Lostmoon Chronicles
Chapter 2
By Aer Snow96
*Hello there again, and thank you for waiting and continuing reading the story.
No sex scene just yet, to put it out there. Still building up to that. Maybe in the next one or two chapters that I'm still writing in the first draft. This chapter is about 1500 words long. As I've said before, I want to include character development, along with progression and not just sex scenes.
**All characters participating in any sexual activities are older than 18 years old and above
*
Up is down.
Down is up.
This was the sensation, as if tumbling through the vast emptiness. Like a great wave of the ocean, hitting him square in the head, and was swallowed by the rolling ton of water. Body afloat by the clashing of forces, ripping apart his bone muscles and down to the very miniscule of his atoms
Was he even breathing? He couldn't tell.
What was his name? It was a blur.
And just like that, seemingly spanning an eternity in that place between places, it was over.
The sound of some poor soul, hacking and coughing, as if he just nearly drowned. And it took him a while before he realized that it was his own voice, heaving in air he hadn't realized he needed.
Everything was cold and shivering and his nerves were lit with cold electricity. The sound of reality suddenly burst around him as if a bubble had popped with him in it. It felt like he just snapped back into his existence, from that darkness that grabbed him by the shoulders.
Oh God, he really did forget his own name in that brief and yet eternal second, Donnie thought. He repeated his own name over and over his own mind. Donnie, Donnie, Donnie.
Such a frightening and bizarre experience to have forgotten his own name.
He laid there in cold hard stone, etched with what looked like a concoction runes and hieroglyphs, the flicker of fire lit from the torches as three veiled figures stood huddled before him.
But his eyes were not on them.
No.
His eyes was what lay beyond.
For they stood in a circle of columns. All around but with no proper wall, just bare to the mercy of the elements. The architecture reminded him of temples from ancient times. Akin to the Greeks of old. Or the ancient Druids of Europe.
And beyond those pillars, he could see the horizon beyond.
Only it wasn't the same horizon that he was accustomed to.
He only stood there, gazing. Dumb and confused.
Where there was supposed to be the moon and the near constant formations of stars: Orion, the Little Dipper and so on....
It was none other than a colossal celestial body, another planet, dominating half the horizon. Donnie's brows shot up into his forehead, eyes growing wide. As he looked further up, he saw what looked like the moon.
Scratch that.
Moons,
plural
.
H-how...How was this possible?
He shook himself and pressed a nail in his palm, hard. Pain blossomed. Donnie embraced that pain, wishing to shake himself awake from this bizarre dream.
Three, then four beats of the heart and lo and behold, he hadn't woke up.
No, no, no...he wasn't dreaming.
"...he is piercing the veil as we speak," Donnie brought his gaze down. It was the one of the veiled woman. The tall one that stood in the middle.
In the dancing firelight he could tell this much: They were not human.
With a purplish hue to their skins, and the most noticeable pointedly elongated ears that seemed to move and flutter far more agile in comparison to that of a human. As for their facial features, aside from their large expressive eyes (also larger than that of a human), it was hard to tell.
All three were female.
Evident by the curves of their hips and the sway of their breasts. Those measly veils they wore can barely be called decent.
Veils, Donnie called them but they seemed to be an amalgam of different clothing he recognized, forming into something he hadn't seen before. It's as if it was but a singular elongated tassel of silky cloth, warped around their legs forming the illusion of a skirt trailing up, exposing their curves and midriff. Then wrapping around their breasts. And thus forming around their neck as and over their heads, shielding their faces.
He could see their eyes through. It was such a loose cloth that they had little trouble seeing what was in front of them. And that any eyes that lay on them, would have little trouble noticing the pinkness of their protruding nipples through the flimsy cloth.
"....sooner or later he would be able to understand us and him us."
Mind heavy and tongue feeling as if it stuffed in his mouth, he wanted to say something. Anything. To make sense of this....whatever
this
