~The Manifestation~ pg 2

The rest of the wind did not seem concerned with their current trajectory, though. It turned her around to face their destination. Cooooommme… sseeee… it reassured, although her uneasiness did not leave completely, especially when the wind picked up speed. Too fast… she flew too fast to make out more than a blur of anything on either side of her. Not that she would have recognized anything, but the sense that she would never be able to make her way back steadily grew. 

She couldn’t count the ticks that passed, it seemed to last half a day, but the sun had not moved much from its height when the wind finally brought her to an abrupt stop at the lip of a rocky cliff. Hovering just at the edge of the precipice, she felt like screaming again. Ssshhhh… the air hissed around her, though she did not think she could make a sound if she wanted to. It crept over the edge in a thin ribbon that stretched her senses until it found a crack in the wall half way down and pushed its way in.

When she finally emerged in a hollow cavern, there was little light to see by, but the wind mingled with the rest of the stale air bringing her a different type of sight. A cloaked man stood before a huge polished crystal wall. From floor to ceiling, it was over three men tall and had not a single crack on its surface. Unnatural, but also beautiful – reminding her of the smooth marble of the Sanctuary floor – until the man pulled a jagged stone across his palms, drawing much blood. He started chanting words she could not understand as he wiped his hands on the crystal in front of him and the blood sizzled and boiled with power. The iron stench of it permeated the chamber and burned her senses while the surface of the rock began to waver as if turning to a liquid itself. 

His strange chanting stopped momentarily but only long enough for his lips to form new, recognizable words. “Kill the girl…” This sinister hiss echoed off the walls and sent a discord vibrating through her essence. He repeated the phrase many times – sometimes a whisper, sometimes a growl – and with each hate-filled command her sense of dread increased. 

The End

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