Initial Excursion: Negative Point

[How I Loathe Thee]

(Closed to TGG)

Branches broke underfoot as he slowly made his way through tightly packed trees. “Where the hell...” The sudden proclamation cut short by the realization that voicing his thoughts would get no reply. Shrugging and continuing on, the tress gave way to something resembling a deer run, the packed dirt worn free of grass and clear of the branches that earlier had clung and torn his shirt and jeans. Ribbons of black cotton and scraps of blue denim marked a clear trail backward through the more closely knit trees, serving as trail markers as well as reminder of the scrapes and bruises.

Wind rustled the cedar branches. Dancing parallel to the deer run a line of movement seemed as though something guided Daith towards an unknown destination. Hesitation swept over him, followed by a chill. In contrast to the sweet humid air this eerie chill climbed against the wind, up his leg and along his spine before dissipating, its stale smell like recycled refrigerated air. The path that lay before him became more and more rough, and looking back it wasn’t hard to realise he stood in the easiest part, the middle of extremes.

To return... to what, a clearing?
To go on... to what?
To stay here?

Putting one foot in front of another, the thoughts continued. Almost absent minded Daith’s feet continued his journey. Dense fog covered his thoughts, impervious fog. Memories, recent and distant filled with holes, bringing with them tingling pain when focused on.

No sounds rouse out of the underbrush, not even insects chirped. Steps grinding into the hard packed ground crunching dirt and pebbles together.

Daith pushed aside a low overhanging branch when a gnarled tree root caught his foot sending him tumbling to the ground. The world spun out of control, sounds of snapping twigs filled his ears as he slammed down on something hard.

...

As the sensation returned the feeling of cold stone against his bruised skin pulled at Daith, tugging him back into conscious thought. Placing one hand on the stone paved walkway beneath him he tried to open his burning eyes. Staring down at the grey stone and trying to push his body up when the pain in his arm caused his vision to go black and he fell to the ground again. Rolling onto his back he caught sight of a tall stone house with a green door that was almost ripped off its hinges. Letters of words unreadable from this distance was scrawled into its wooden face.
The wind whipped up, to his surprise wailing through and around the abandoned house, in comparison to the path that had all but disappeared, the wind was fierce.

By the time he could stand Daith noticed that the sun had dwindled to just above the horizon, its golden late afternoon glow glinted off the panes of glass that remained. Golden shards shooting skyward like teeth in the hollow brown shells of former houses, the sight conjured nostalgia. Something so forgotten as a town like this, where in the world could this be? His last memories had been of the deer run, “ahh,” and the fall, as he was reminded of by the pain in his arm.

As Daith lay on the stone trying to steady himself to try once again to stand a scraping noise came from one of the houses in front of him, the screech of metal being dragged across stone. Putting one arm out above his head he reached across the ground and pushed his torso up off the ground to look in the direction of the noise, an empty house stood with its door wide open, nothing moved, only the wind stirred dead leaves across the path. A sudden crunch in the direction of the man’s feet pulled his attention off the vacant house. Turning his head slowly to see what had caused the sound of glass being ground into stone nothing greeted him.

Shivering slightly Daith surveyed his surroundings, nothing was around him and the summer sun filtering through the trees could have been calming if not for the surrounding ghost town. Something seemed very wrong, his hair stood up on the back of his neck and he noticed only to late that he could now see faint wisps of his breath dancing through the warm summer air. Terror clawed at the man as he was hoisted upwards, held aloft by invisible hands and dragged towards the house in front of where Daith had landed.

“HELP... PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME!” The words erupted as he was pulled kicking and screaming against something he could not see into the dark doorway, his hands shot out at the frame clinging desperately for the safety of the light, only to give way under the pain that through his forearm.

[The Great Guardian]

"Do you think we should go back? I'm kind of hungry..." Miko asked his partner, his thin little legs carrying them through the underbrush of the forest, no particular destination in mind.

"Eat what we have." Glory, his partner, answered. "We should make as much progress as we can. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves, we just want to be out of here."

"How come your so worried?" Miko asked again, pushing the scratching twigs and thorns out of his way. "Why would anyone want to hurt us? We've never done anything wrong, right?"

Glory didn't answer. He remained still, and watched as Miko carried them both onwards through the forest of Concordia, leaving their home forever behind them. He wished he had an answer for his young friend. He also wished he could just spread his wings and fly them both away. He wanted to, but for the first time in his life he was starting to feel fear. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew some kind of danger had caught up them. There was something out there that wanted the two of them, but for what Glory couldn't discern. It felt like he should remember, that years ago he might have recognized the vision. All that remained of it now was the feeling of fear when he recalled the image. The shadowy ghost, peering in at his window then disappearing all at once. What did it want? Why was it searching for them?

"Well at least we finally get to see the rest of the world." Miko smiled, pushing his way through the trees with a thick stick he'd picked up off the ground. "I can't wait to see what the cities are like. Oh, and boats! I want to see a big treasure boat!"

"I'm sure we will." Glory replied, laughing quietly in his own mind. "But for now we have to keep moving and stay out of sight."

The pair kept on their way, the sun passing through the sky towards the horizon. The trees grew thicker, giving Miko a harder time pushing himself through, and hid the sun from the forest floor. Miko hummed as he squirmed around the branches, making up a silly song as he went along, Glory however, couldn't help but notice the change in the atmosphere. There was a denseness on the air now, a fog that was cold and dry had drifted in.

"Hey, look at this?" Miko said, finally aware of the fog. He swished the thick stick through the air, making swirls and 'wooshing' sound effects as he did. Glory remained silent. There was something unsettling about the scenery. The dry fog, the bare baranches around them, and the hollow ground Miko marched upon.

"It's kind of spooky here isn't it?" Miko chuckled. Glory didn't answer him. "Glory? Are you okay?"

"No Miko." Glory said. "There are spirits here."

Miko didn't need him to explain. Immediately he relenquished his hold on their body, releasing Glory from inside his mind and allowing him to take physical form. Miko's body hunched over, as if sucked into itself. There was a soft flicker of light, and then Glory emerged from the point Miko was standing.

"What's happening in there?" Miko asked, suddenly worried for his friend. Glory narrowed his vision, trying to better see through the fog. His weapon swinging to and fro he made his way into a little village, the glow off his skin and wings helping to push the acursed fog away from them.

"Glory, there's someone screaming. I can hear them."

"I know. I can see him. The spectors have him." Glory dashed on, Divinity's Thorn ready in his hands. He could see the youth in the distance, hands from the darkness mauling his living form. Glory sprinted, and as he approached the house where the boy clung he raised his weapon and spread his wings, letting his diefic aura burn the eyes of the spirits.

[How I Loathe Thee]

As his fingers slipped from the frame the world had become fuzzy or was that fog, a dense white blanket rising up from the ground. The world seemed so jolted, sudden movement made everything uncertain and even worse was now it all moved faster. Slipping into the darkness of the house bourn by unseen hands the last glimpse of the doorway seemed unusually bright before the heavy wooden door slammed shut and latched itself from the inside.


An unexpected drop to the floor knocked the air out of Daith’s lungs and he drifted in and out of consciousness. The scraping sound from outside returned as he lay their coughing and choking on the dust newly disturbed from the floor, only now the sound fell instead.

Are they moving away?

The thought crossed his mind as the slow transition of his eyes adjusting of his dim cavernous building started to reveal a hallway with empty rooms on each side. The man questioned if he would ever be able to tell when anything was empty again. Breathing out heavily and trying to collect himself the man could only be dragged and feel the throbbing in his arm.


Scenery jumped into motion as the man was now dragged across the ground leaving a trail of airborne dust in his wake. Around him vibrations filled the air, and each breath let go of turned to heavy white vapour.

Confusion still took hold of him as he struggled to understand what was happening. Rooms with open doorways were the only source of light, gaps in the boarded windows glowed yellow. As Daith became more aware his slow journey forwards stopped, looking around he could see nothing but a dark room and a table that stood beside him.

“Where am...”

A brief flash of a face hovering over him choked him up, he tried to speak if only to scream, nothing would come out, no sound, no voice, only startled mumbling.

Something tore at his clothing lifting him into the air a once more. This time though it was more violently then before, as if something had thrown him up, feeling a weightlessness beneath him he drifted there at the point just before he fell. While the moment hanging in air seemed to last forever the fall was brief, his back slammed hard against wood, though his hand continued downward and hung below his side.

“Ahhhh...”

He breathed in deeply, and his head rolled to the side as he realized he was laying on a table instead of being back on the floor. Something overhead glinted in a ray of light that broke through the old walls, looking up in terror Daith could see knives floating above him in the darkness.

[The Great Guardian]

"The door's locked Glory." Miko said, panic in his voice as Glory tried his best to shake the old wooden knob loose.

"I know." Glory answered. "They're trying to keep us out. They won't relenquish the young man. I don't know what they want him for."

"Your axe!" Miko hollered. "Can't you cut the door down?"

That was the next thought that had come to Glory's mind, and as Miko shouted it through their consciousness Glory already raised his weapon overhead. However, he had a suspicious feeling that whatever force had locked the door would strop his weapon, and as the blade on his axe crashed against the wooden door he knew he was correct. The sound echoed like steel against stone. The blade did nothing.

"We have to try something else." Miko said, suddenly panicing. "We have to help him."

"These spirits are dangerous, they don't want us in." Glory said, swining the weapon around behind him. "We shouldn't be here Miko. It could be dangerous."

"I know." Miko answered. "But we've got to try. You can scare the spirits away, can't you?"

"I'll try..." Glory replied, a loud crash coming from inside. He knew Miko was right, but he wasn't sure about what he felt right now. There was something lingering in this fog, a presence, or force that he couldn't see.

There was something hidden in this town. The spectors didn't want them here.

"The chimney! Drop through the chimney!" Miko shouted, pointing it out as Glory checked out the surroundings. He was about to say no, and keep looking for another option when it suddenly struck him as a possiblity. He backed up to get a better look at the height. He could do it in one leap. His wings would give him the boost he needed.

"Hurry Glory..." Miko whispered, the fear in his voice becoming apparent. Glory knew why, he could feel it too. The fog was thickening. Something was beginning to take notice of them. Quickly he ran in a wide loop, picking up speed as he dashed on the balls of his feet. His wings felt heavy in the fog, but the more he concentrated the brighter his aura began to burn. He felt the cold air flowing through the golden-white feathers, and with a great burst from his legs he leaped into the air and soared up on the wind.

"Glory, watch-" Was all Miko had a chance to say. As he rode up on the arch he felt something coming up behind him. Although he looked over his shoulder as it happened there was nothing, but as Miko shouted some unseen force grabbed him out of the air. There was an explosion of wooden splinters, and then a hard fall against the old floor of the house. Glory look up at the window he'd been pushed through, his weapon laying out of reach across the floor.

They were inside the house. But the sight wasn't welcomed at all.

[How I Loathe Thee]

A crash erupted from one of the rooms, somewhere that would have been towards the head of the table, and as Daith braced himself for something more horrible to appear the knives that hovered above him froze in air, their sharp blades reflecting the light at odd angles. Daith gasped and his eyes widened as the some of the knives fell around him. One brushed past the side of his face, cutting some of his hair as it pierced into the wood. Other knives pinned parts of his shirt and pants, narrowly missing his skin.

Daith looked down along his body, surveying the knives that kept him pinned. Two at his knees and three in his shirt, at first what had looked like an accident seemed placed to stop him from moving. The hazardously floating blades that remained frozen in air gathered towards the head of the table and disappeared, the sounds of scraping footsteps faintly followed. With the passing of that sound through the doorway the man could feel the hairs on the back of his neck fall as the temperature of the room climbed.

He quivered as he looked over at the knife that had come so close to impaling his face, was it a warning? Or a missed stab? It was apparent that whatever the meaning was he had to move out of the room before the ghostly knife carrying being came back.

Pulling his right arm free of the knife that had his shirt tacked down he reached over to his other arm and pulled the knife out of the wood.

“Two knives... Three knives...”

Daith sat up, propping himself up with one arm behind him and pulled the two blades that stuck through his pants at the knee free one at a time.

“Four and Five.”

He swung his legs over the side of the table after he had pulled free from the last blade. Trying to stand on his shaky legs he leaned in on the table and wrenched free the last knife that was still stuck in it from the place beside where his head had lay.

“It isn’t like I can stab them but still.” He tagged onto his mental note that on top of it being unhealthy to speak to himself when he knew he was alone, whatever had attacked him might hear him if he made to much noise.

Daith turned with the knife in hand and fled whatever the crash had been towards the back of the house.

[The Great Guardian]

His ears ringing, his face numb, and his heart pounding on the trembling wall of his chest. Glory lay faced down on the broken boards. His impact was so strong he'd almost gone right through.

"We just missed those knives." Miko whispered, obviously watching through his eyes while Glory delt with the pain. "That man ran into the next room. I think he's hurt."

"Good for him."

"Are you okay?"

"Fine." Glory grumbled, rising to his feet as his knees and elbows gave a soft clicking sound. "Sorry Miko. Whatever that was, I don't think we were supposed to be getting up again."

"You are hurt aren't you?" Miko gasped, Glory examining blood stained fingertips from touching his mouth.

"Don't worry about me Miko. This room... can't you feel it?" Glory said, shaking his head to push the pain back down below. He couldn't see anything, but he knew there were others in here with them. As if taking form in his mind's eye Glory could see small eyes and decrepit faces, watching him from the corners. Incomplete spirits, like angry and frightened emotions that hated him for being there, but couldn't stand to be exposed in his aura. These were not the ones who swatted him out of the air, they were hardly anything.

"Glory, I can feel so many..." Miko's voice trembled off into worry and panic. "They're not just scared of us... there's terrible things here."

"I know." Glory muttered, his eyes becoming angry slivers. The images dispelled when he looked at them directly, becoming nothing more than shadows in the corners of his eye. The Thorn lay partway across the floor, it's silver standing out from the dusty floor ike beacon in the night. Looking over his shoulders, making sure nothing waited in the corridors, Glory crossed the floor and pulled his weapon up into his hand.

"What about that other-"

"Come out here, this place is dangerous." Glory cut his young friend off, trying to summon their only potential ally back to the main room. He didn't want to leave this part of the house, a strange feeling telling him to avoid devling any deeper than this.

"I'm a friend. I swear." Glory added in quickly, a strange urge for haste descending on him. "Quickly, we must flee before it's too late."