Author's notes: Another chapter, this one a bit shorter than the rest. This chapter is basically me flexing my 'creepy' muscle. As usual, thank you for your reviews and whatnot.
Chapter 5: The Mountain
Night had fallen while Atem slept off whatever drug or poison had been used on him. Luckily, the moon was quite bright, and it wasn't as terribly cold as he had expected it to be. His resolve was strengthened by these facts. He could see well. It wasn't that cold. He was not going to die. He stood there for several minutes, saying this to himself, silently, his shaky breath issuing from his mouth in lush white puffs.
He finally looked about him, taking in his surroundings. Nothing but snow, and small patches of exposed ground as far as he could see. No sign of a town or even another little cabin in sight. But that only made sense, didn't it? If you planned to hack someone to pieces with a sword as a form of assassination, would it not be best to do it somewhere secluded so as not to keep it a secret? He shuddered at the thought. No, he thought. They had to buy food somewhere; none had been in the wagon with him. There was a village or hold somewhere nearby. There had to be! So, logically, there had to be a road to and from the place. He had to find the road, but the snow coverage made that difficult to do, at least with his eyes. He walked to the side of the house, where they had left the wagon and began kicking the snow aside. Within moments, he found packed earth instead of damp and dead grass. He kicked more aside, searching out the path's direction. Thoughts were coming clearer, now. His confidence was returning. He would make it. He was going to live through this. He unsheathed his sword and began flicking the snow before him away in an effort to keep his feet dry. He had heard terrible stories of people's feet freezing solid, and wanted no part of that.
It was easy travelling. He walked for over an hour, never leaving the road for fear of becoming lost. The snow was not terribly thick or wet, and the road predictably followed the smoothest and least steep paths. But the mountain itself was a terrifying place, however easy his journey. It was cold, empty, and unnaturally silent. Or at least, it was unnatural to Atem. Having grown up in a bustling palace in the middle of a great city, he had become accustomed to hearing something, anything besides the sound of his own footsteps. But this place was different. He was alone, without even the sounds of the natural world to keep him company. Perhaps that was for the best. He could concentrate on flickign the snow away and trudging home without the distraction. Even if the silence was unnerving.
If sounds did not distract him, his own thoughts made every effort. How had he allowed this to happen? What was going to happen, now that he had escaped? What was going on back in Terranera? He could only hope that the Knights knew better than to give up the search for him after only two days. He shuddered from more than the cold at the thought of the mess he may come back to if he was assumed dead. The court had been in turmoil for weeks after his father had died. How would they handle the kidnapping and murder of the new king, only a year after his reign had begun? But even if he did have a mess to come home to, he would also have his friends and family to return to. He felt vaguely cheated that Delitia had been killed and would not be brought to justice properly for her crimes. However, she had spoken of a revolution, so that rather obviously connected her to the white-haired man with the cloak and the serpentine Spirit Beast. He'd simply bring the leader to justice in place of his follower. He shivered and flexed his hands, trying to work the numb out of them. If only he had found some damned gloves.
A sudden sound shook him from his thoughts; a harsh, warbling shriek. He gasped sharply and whipped his head about, scanning the small clearing he had wandered into. With nothing around him but snow and a few skeletal trees, what could have made that awful sound? His hand clenched around the grip of his sword, his breath puffing out in gasps as he calmed, still scanning the clearing. The sound came again, followed by other similar sounds. Atem's heart pounded as he turned toward the sound. The sight that greeted him was both astounding and greatly unnerving. A great, gnarled, leafless tree. Several large ravens roosting in its aged branches, and a few fluttered off to other trees when discovered. Atem took a cautious step back, his composure threatening to leave him again. He knew that the ravens were harmless, but some deeply ingrained terror in his heart asked if he was so certain. It also told him that he should move along, ignore the ravens, and never think about them again. He nodded as if in agreement with the notion and turned away from the tree. The ravens shouted their goodbyes at his back as he walked off, sweeping his sword from side to side to clear his path.
Atem shivered violently against the howling wind that had picked up, cursing himself for bloodying two good shirts he could certainly use. The snow around him was building up at an alarming rate. A freak storm had blown in, bringing wind and snow the likes of which he had never experienced in his relatively warm homeland. His sword had become useless against the snow, as the flakes piled up faster than he could move them out of his path. The road was lost to him, now. He plodded along, trying his best to travel through areas that anyone in a wagon or carriage might find least difficult. He stumbled part way down a small hill, thankful that he had sheathed his sword and avoided skewering himself. So far, he was not having the best of luck finding smooth paths. He shuddered again and got to his feet. His feet were becoming numb, and he had not felt his hands in quite some time. To make matters worse, the storm had blotted out the moon's light considerably. He was navigating nearly blind.
He didn't know how far he had climbed down the mountain before he had lost the road, but he had to have come a long way. The land had seemed level for some time, with only a few scant hills to trip him up. He had to be near the foot of the mountain, and the thought renewed his spirits somewhat. He practically ran down the hill, nearly toppling over again several times.
The vague outline of a forest loomed in the distance, a darker, jagged line in the horizon of his sight. A forest with trees to break the wind, and perhaps a sheltered place to rest. The promise of shelter and a safe place to rest was too tempting, and even though a road was unlikely to pass through the forest, he rushed toward it with a light heart.
It wasn't nearly as windy, or even as cold, in the forest. The tall trees and their foliage broke and slowed the wind, and most of the falling snow was caught by the trees. The blanket of snow over the ground was relatively thin, compared to the dense mounds of it outside the forest. His body still trembled at the cold, but not so much as before. He glanced around the forest floor, searching for a strong, straight branch to use as a walking stick to ease the dull ache in his half numbed feet. A promising specimen caught his eye after some hard searching in the dark forest, and he knocked the clinging snow and a few remaining twigs off of it. His new walking stick in hand, he began his search for shelter. It would do him good to get completely out of the wind and get some rest.
Even though the forest was still technically on the mountain, it was as if Atem had stepped into a completely different place. The presence of sound made it especially different. Birds twittered and squawked every now and again in the trees, and there was the occasional tiny rustling of animal life. It may have been the dead of winter on the mountain, but the forest was alive nonetheless. The familiar sights and sounds were welcome indeed after the cold, silent part of the mountain. He had visited similar forests many times, and had even gone on the odd hunting expedition with his father, when he was alive.
The wind had died down to a light breeze, now, and even the flakes that managed to find their way to the forest floor were becoming fewer and fewer. The storm had lightened up, and the clouds were moving out, allowing light from the moon to illuminate the forest once more. Atem smiled to himself. His smile faded quickly when he realized that the forest had gone quiet. The birds had stopped calling, and there was no sound of motion. Something was not right. His hand moved slowly to his sword, his eyes darting about. Had someone followed him? A branch snapped loudly to his right, and he turned.
A huge, dark form crouched in the brush less than twenty feet from him. It most certainly was not human. The same sort of terror he had felt looking at the tree full of ravens returned tenfold. Its huge tongue lolled out of its gaping, toothy mouth as it watched him, hot breath flowing out in white vapor. He took a step back, and it planted one huge paw foward. In a split second, it lunged at him fron its stone still position, and the chase was on. It never occured to Atem to draw his sword.
Atem abandoned his walking stick and took off as quickly as his legs would carry him, grateful, for once, for his light and quick frame. He scurried wildly over rocks and fallen tree trunks in an attempt to trip his pursuer up, but the creature seemed too focused on its prey to be slowed. It leapt over any obstacle, landing with a loud thud each time. Atem looked about frantically as he ran, searching out high ground or a place to hide. It was difficult with branches slapping his face constantly. He caught sight of a narrow burrow, certainly large enough for him to duck into, but far too small for the beast to follow. He dove in head first, praying that he had not just sealed his own fate. If that thing got hold of him, he was done for.
The creature stopped cold, sniffing around the tiny burrow's mouth. Then it began to pace about outside. Atem thought, for a moment, that it might just leave. It rushed the burrow suddenly, snarling and snapping its jaws. Atem drew back, finding the burrow to be deeper than he had originally thought. The thing continued to snap and growl, it great black head just more than a foot from Atem. He struggled to draw his sword and plunged it forward, skewering the thing through one eye. It let loose an agonized yowl and recoiled, retreating from the burrow. Unfortunately, it took his sword with it. He stared out the mouth of his shelter for a long while, listening for any sign of the monster returning. None ever came.
He settled back against the smooth earth wall and rifled around in his coat for the food he had taken from the cabin. He could rest, now, and some food would help him keep his strength up.