Femi trailed behind the radiant figure, his small rat form dwarfed by her luminous presence. For some reason, her blinding brilliance had diminished to a level where he could now make out the outline of her body, which was simply a silhouette of impossible grace and form. She was definitely a well-proportioned person to say the least, with curves that flowed like river currents and a posture that spoke of confidence.
Even though he could now look upon her without his eyes bleeding, he still did his best to avoid direct eye contact, as even a brief gaze sent a dull, throbbing ache pulsing through his skull.
As he walked by her side, his claws made soft clicking sounds that echoed off the dark, seemingly infinite space of the pathway. The architecture defied logic, there were no visible supports, no ceiling, only darkness that stretched upward into nothingness.
Yet the floor beneath his feet was a brilliant, polished white that seemed to generate its own light, creating a stark contrast to the shadows that seemed to swallow everything else. They walked in silence for what felt like an eternity, the only sound being the soft, almost musical rustle of Melin's garments.
Finally, Femi couldn't bear the heavy, silence any longer.
"Where are we?" he asked, his voice echoed strangely in the vast space. The question hanging in the air between them.
Melin didn't respond immediately, continuing her graceful glide forward, and Femi wondered if she had even heard him. But then, she stopped so abruptly that he nearly collided with her shimmering form. She turned to face him, a mischievous glint in her multicolored shifting eyes.
"Where do you think we are?" she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.
Femi thought for a long moment, his whiskers twitching as he considered the impossible events that had brought him here. "I believe I'm in hell," he said finally, his voice laced with simple acceptance rather than fear. "The last thing I remember is being killed, and at this point, it's becoming too abnormal."
He sighed, "My enemies are really gunning for my death, and it seems my village people aren't normal village people." He shook his head, a bitter chuckle escaping him. "To be able to kill me twice, truly they are not normal."
The silence returned.
Until, Melin burst out laughing, the light around her pulsed with her mirth. The sudden intensity caused Femi to flinch as a fresh wave of headache pain shot through his temples from looking at her directly.
"So, you think you're dead?"she asked, her voice still chuckling with amusement that seemed to feed on his confusion.
Femi nodded slowly, unsure of what else to say. "Am I not?" he asked, his voice tentative as he rubbed his throbbing head with a clawed paw.
Melin's smile faltered for a moment, her luminous features becoming strangely solemn before she responded. "Well, we won't say you're dead, but we can't say you're living either." She gestured around them at the impossible space. "This place is... the land between. There are many names for it, but I'll use one that's easier to understand."
As she spoke, her figure began to glow even brighter, forcing Femi to look away to avoid being blinded. Melin continued, her voice seeming to weave through the very fabric of this place, becoming one with the flow of reality around them. "Weee.... are currently, in your mind, Femi..." The words echoed as if spoken from multiple directions at once. "...this is the place where I'll tell you a story."
"A story?" Femi repeated, his curiosity piqued despite his fear and confusion. The concept seemed both absurd and strangely compelling in this impossible place.
Melin nodded, a mysterious smile spreading across her face that made the light around her dance and shift patterns across the dark walls. "Yes, Femi. A story."
------
The air was thick with tension, as Varga glowered at Tarlak, her brows scrunched together in anger, though a faint undercurrent of worry colored her voice.
"What?" she demanded.
Tarlak met her gaze, his own features grim. "Kug's body is missing. I remembered seeing the Harpy queen sending the upper part of his body out the wooden walls but now when we went to collect it it was missing, leaving only a trail of blood. I believe something dragged the body away."
After her briefly checking on Femi's health, Varga had followed Tarlak and another scout outside the camp. They now stood at a spot just in front of the camp's main gate, where the treeline began its thick encroachment. Instead of the remains of a fallen warrior, they found just a spot of blood, a dark, congealing patch of blood on the churned snow, with a dragged trail that vanished into the undergrowth after only a few feet.
"I really don't like this," Tarlak muttered, his eyes scanning the disturbed snow with a uneasy gaze.
"Who would?" Varga replied with a grunt, crossing her arms over her chest.
"True, but what I meant is that it's one thing for something to savage a corpse, but it's another thing entirely for something to do it while leaving absolutely no tracks," he elaborated, pointing a thick finger at the ground. "Instead, we have two sets of prints leading toward the camp. I can make out that one belongs to a wolf pup and the other..."
"Belongs to the ratling," the scout finished bluntly.
Varga's head snapped towards them, her glare intensifying at the implications. "What are you trying to say?" she demanded, her voice dangerously low.
"Peace, Varga," Tarlak said, holding up a placating hand. "The tracks lead *inward*. We know it's not Warrior Femi. This must have happened when he returned from retrieving his snarls. He saw the attack and ran to aid us. No one here doubts his honor or his bravery." He turned a stern gaze on the scout. "The ratling lies injured right now, after fighting to defend our camp. I hope you aren't suggesting he is the cause."
"I merely state what I observe," the scout replied evenly. "I offer no accusations."
Varga held his gaze for a long moment before nodding curtly. She crouched by the bloodstain, left by the missing body, her keen eyes searching for any clue the others might have missed.
"I wonder if Femi could have smelt something?" Tarlak shared his thoughts aloud, breaking the tense silence.
"Maybe one of the Harpies took the body," the scout offered a more conventional theory.
"Unlikely," Tarlak countered. "A harpy isn't strong enough to lift a krag's body and fly off with it, especially not after their queen had already sounded the retreat."
"A borrower then, they also like to scavenge," the scout tried again, searching for a logical answer.
"No signs of digging, hence our confusion," Tarlak debunked it with a sigh of frustration.
"Enough, we don't have time for guessing," Varga remarked sternly as she rose to her full height, cutting off any further talking so she could think. The two krags exchanged looks but both stopped arguing. Varga was in charge, and they had a job to do.
After a prolonged pause, the scout ventured a new theory. "I hate to be the one to say it, but this… this has the feel of a mutant's work."
"It would explain the strangeness of it," Tarlak agreed reluctantly.
"Not necessarily," Varga mused aloud, her gaze distant as she considered darker, more calculated possibilities.
The forest seemed to grow quieter. The scout looked confused, but a deep frown settled on Tarlak's face, as if he understood her unspoken fear, a deeper understanding dawning on his face.
"Well, feel free to share your thoughts Varga,"the scout eventually said to break the uncomfortable silence.
"We'll deal with it if comes to that," Varga replied grimly, not yet willing to give voice to her suspicions.
"Why the secrecy?" the scout asked skeptically. "If it's a mutant, shouldn't we act now?"
"Leave it alone," Tarlak responded darkly. "You don't want to know."his voice carrying a weight of experience that brooked no argument.
Just then the sound of heavy, frantic footsteps echoed down the forest road leading to the camp. The trio looked up in time to see a male Krag, breathless and covered in a fine layer of snow, run into the clearing. Their hands instinctively flew to the handles of their weapons, before they relaxed a bit when they recognized him as one of the men who had gone with Arieus. After spotting Varga and the others, the runner headed their way. He slammed his fist against his chest in a hasty salute as he approached.
"Varga! Arieus sent me ahead. The raid was a success; he's on his way back with the goods."the runner told them, gasping for air.
"How long?" Varga asked him, her mind already calculating timelines and threats.
"They'll be here by tomorrow if they maintain their current pace," the krag reported, wiping sweat from his brow.
A flicker of relief passed over Varga's features at the news of the warband's return, but it was quickly replaced by a scowl as she stared down thedarkening forest path, "If only they could make it sooner," she whispered to herself.
"We should prepare for their arrival then ,"She waved the messenger toward the camp. "Go, rest. You've earned it
As the runner departed, Varga turned to the other two. "Go and get the band ready for Arieus," she said to the scout. With a nod, the scout made his way back towards the camp, leaving Tarlak and Varga alone
"So," Tarlak began, his voice low, while stepping closer.. "Are we both thinking the same thing?"
"Hopefully, we are both wrong," Varga said, her voice a whisper. "But it would explain the harpies' unexpected attack. Tarlak, from now on, no one goes anywhere alone. Everyone is to keep a weapon on hand at all times."
"We are krags. We always carry our weapons with us," he laughed, but the sound was hollow. Then, he quickly grew serious. "I'll spread the word. Everyone walks in pairs. Just in case."
Varga gave a grim nod and waved him off. As she turned to head back to her campsite to make her own preparations, a heavy sigh escaped her.
"I hope we are overthinking this."
----
"No."
The single, flat syllable hung in the air between them.
Femi's large, brown eyes were narrowed, his, furry body tense. The glowing figure before him, the one who called herself Melin, merely tilted her head, her expression one of polite inquiry.
"What?"she asked, her voice seemed to vibrate
"I am not going to agree to anything until I get some more information," Femi stated, his whiskers twitching with suspicion. He gestured around them at the shifting, shadowy landscape. "Because it seems you are trying to push some kind of selling my soul agreement and it does not help even with your glowing figure, that I think you are a demon."
Melin's serene smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing her luminous features before she smoothed it away.
"But," Femi continued, holding up a tiny clawed finger. "That doesn't mean we can't reach an agreement, you just have to answer some of my questions. First, what is this place? Second why am I here? Third, you are from that dungeon, so you might be able to tell me why I was unfortunately dragged to this God for saken world?" He rattled the questions off, each one pointed and direct.
Melin clasped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with renewed amusement at his pragmatic stubbornness. "I will agree to your requests," she said, gliding a little closer. The soft light she cast made the shadows retreat. "First, we are in the Night-mares, a realm that exists beyond the boundaries of the physical world. It's a place where fears and anxieties take on a life of their own, and where the subconscious mind reigns supreme."
Femi hummed to himself, a low, thoughtful rumble in his chest as he processed this. He glanced down at his own paws, half-expecting them to warp into something monstrous. "Mmm...so, what you're saying right now is that you brought me to nightmares?" he asked, his voice laced with deep skepticism.
Melin nodded, a playful energy seeming to animate her. "Yes," she said, skipping ahead lightly on the white pathway and then turning back to him with a mischievous glint in her eye. Her movement stirred the darkness a little.
Femi's gaze followed her, and he felt a fresh surge of frustration at her cavalier attitude. This was his mind, after all. "So, this is my nightmare?" he asked, his voice rising in incredulity as he pointed a claw at the ground beneath his feet.
Melin shaked her head, with a patient, almost teacher-like expression on her face. "No, it's your mind realm ," she repeated, clarifying patiently. "Simply, we are at the place where the mind meets the Mare. We just ended up in your own gate to it, that's all." She gestured vaguely to the formless space around them. "For instance, those things that looked like your family....are part of your inner, deeper fears. Something to do with your family, I'm sure."
Femi's eyes narrowed into slits, his previously twitching whiskers now going completely still. A profound silence emanated from him.
"Don't you think you want to confront that?" Melin asked, her voice softening into a probing, tempting whisper that seemed to slither into his ears.
Suddenly, Femi raised his arm, his small palm facing Melin in a firm, stopping gesture. "Hold on there, madam," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Calm yourself down. I'm not confronting any demons. That's a motto I live by and I believe everyone should live by."
Melin's smile returned, wide and knowing, her eyes sparkling with amusement at his absolute refusal. "So, you want to continue with...?" she asked, her voice dripping with theatrical anticipation, deliberately leaving the question hanging.
Femi's eyes remained narrowed, his thoughts swimming with the heavy implications of this news . He ignored her bait. "And why am I here?" he asked, returning to his list with dogged determination.
Melin's inclined her head in a slight bow of concession. "You are here because I need to tell you something important," she said, her tone shifting to one of gravity. "Something that will change your perspective on the world and your place in it."
Femi's intense gaze locked onto hers, his curiosity, despite himself, finally piqued. "And the third question?" he asked, his voice cutting clearly through the silence of the realm.
Melin's smile grew wider, becoming almost beatific. "The story I'm about to tell you will answer that question," she promised, her form seeming to glow brighter. "It will reveal why you, as you put it, was unfortunately dragged here."
Femi hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to wake up, to flee, warring with a curiosity he couldn't entirely suppress. He let out a resigned sigh. "Fine," he grumbled finally, crossing his arms over his chest, while bracing himself for whatever inevitable trickery and nonsense to come.
"Tell your Tale."