Chapter 2: Mortis
The fog thinned as if some unseen hand had parted it. The grass rustled beneath a breeze that hadn't existed moments ago. It moved strangely now, no longer violent like the surge before. The wind no longer clawed through the graveyard. It simply passed through it quietly, brushing past broken graves and dead roots as if it knew exactly where it was going.
Then it reached Sia.
The cold breeze curled around his limp body.
It did not drag him.
Did not force him down.
Slowly, gently, the wind lifted him a few centimeters from the ground. Not high enough to seem unnatural from far away, but wrong enough that the graveyard itself seemed to fall silent around him. His thin frame hovered weakly in the air while strands of black hair drifted across his pale face.
The breeze carried him deeper from the graveyard, farther from the shattered entrance where the surge had erupted. Toward the older side where the fog felt quieter and the graves looked half-swallowed by roots.
A massive dead tree stood there, its bark blackened with age and its roots twisted above the earth like sleeping serpents.
The wind lowered him beside it carefully.
Not close enough to touch the roots.
Just close enough to rest beneath the shade.
Like someone afraid of hurting him.
Dirt shifted beneath his weight as he settled against the moss-covered earth. Thin roots bent softly beneath his back instead of piercing into him. For the first time since the surge, the graveyard no longer felt aggressive.
It felt calmed.
Sia's hair lifted slightly.
Then something warm brushed across his cheek.
Warm.
That was the strange part.
The breeze should have been freezing, yet whatever touched him carried a faint heat that lingered against his skin before fading away.
The thick black-red blood leaking from his right eye finally began to slow.
Then suddenly stopped.
Too suddenly.
The dark pool beneath his cheek trembled before lifting upward in thin strands. Slowly, the blood gathered together into a thick gel-like orb hovering inches above the grass.
Then it forced itself back toward his eye.
The blood returned to where it had come from.
Silence swallowed the graveyard.
Then the remaining blood along his skin began to move.
Slowly, the dark red trail lifted from his face like wet ink dragged by invisible fingers. Thin lines stretched outward from the outer corners of his eyes instead of following their natural shape. One sharp streak dragged diagonally upward toward the tail of his brow before extending farther still, thin as a blade, reaching toward the temple near his ear.
Another curved beneath the eye.
Then the same thing formed around the other side.
Not identical.
Sharper.
Longer.
The crimson lines framed his eyes without truly touching them anymore, as though the blood had carved something new into his face instead of merely staining it.
A slit.
A wound.
Something watching.
The marks settled against his pale skin like thin dragged scars. Sharp needle-like points stretched toward both temples while the curves near his eyes remained uneven and wrong.
Then the movement stopped.
The shapes remained.
As if they had always belonged there.
Then the wind vanished.
Sia remained motionless beneath the pale mist, blind and unconscious, while the graveyard watched without sound.
Beside him, the bone flute trembled faintly.
A crack echoed softly through the stillness.
Bone twisted. Curved. Reshaped itself with quiet grinding noises as wings slowly unfolded from its sides. Ashwing emerged in silence, hollow eyes glimmering faintly beneath the fog. The creature tilted its head sharply toward the darkness beyond the graves as if listening to something far away.
Its feathers bristled.
Then it vanished into the mist.
The dream was not a dream.
Sia floated weightlessly in endless darkness like a leaf trapped beneath still water. There was no sky above him. No ground beneath him. The darkness stretched endlessly in every direction, thick as smoke but empty of scent, warmth, or breath.
He tried to inhale.
Nothing came.
Then something breathed for him.
A deep inhale rolled through the void.
Ancient.
Immense.
The sound resembled less a living creature and more a mountain shifting beneath the earth.
Then came laughter.
Quiet.
Low.
Wrong.
It echoed somewhere inside the darkness, soft enough to almost miss yet impossible to ignore.
Sia turned sharply.
Nothing stood there.
Only darkness.
Then the voice came.
Layered.
Endless.
"So this is what they sealed me inside."
Sia's chest tightened instantly.
The voice sounded amused.
Not angry.
Not kind either.
Just... interested.
A crack of dull golden light split open above him.
Two enormous eyes appeared within it.
Watching.
Ancient.
The shape behind them remained impossible to understand. Smoke drifted endlessly around something massive coiled within the dark. Wings folded somewhere beyond sight. Horns curved outward like shattered moons.
Wings?
Scales?
Smoke?
Sia could not tell.
The creature looked less alive and more like ruin itself had learned how to breathe.
His body refused to move.
"What are you...?"
A low rumble echoed through the void.
Laughter again.
"You can feel me already, can't you?"
The voice sounded closer now despite nothing moving.
"That little fear crawling beneath your skin."
Sia stepped backward instinctively.
There was nowhere to step.
The golden eyes narrowed slightly.
"You scare easily."
The pressure around him thickened suddenly. Not enough to crush him. Just enough to make breathing difficult.
Sia's pulse quickened.
The creature watched him silently for a moment.
Then—
"You keep looking around."
Its tone almost sounded entertained.
"As if something is watching you."
Sia's throat tightened. "Stay away from me."
Another quiet laugh echoed through the void.
"I am very far away."
The darkness shifted slightly.
The enormous eyes suddenly appeared closer.
Far too close.
Sia froze.
"You already carry me."
The words slid through him slowly.
Not spoken.
Felt.
Sia tried to move.
Could not.
Then the creature exhaled.
The void shattered into fragments of memory.
Fire spreading through black trees.
Chains dragging across blood-soaked stone.
A child screaming while glowing sigils burned into flesh.
Something enormous roaring beneath the earth.
Hands forcing an eye shut.
The visions slammed into him too quickly to understand.
"Stop—!"
Sia clutched his head violently.
Pain tore through his sealed eye.
The memories vanished instantly.
Silence returned.
Then laughter again.
Soft.
Amused.
"You break easily."
Sia trembled violently, struggling to breathe.
The darkness around him began cracking apart like shattered glass.
Thin fractures spread endlessly through the void.
The dream was collapsing.
Sia forced himself to look upward through shaking breaths. "Who are you?!"
For a moment the creature simply watched him.
Then the darkness around its eyes curved slightly.
Almost like a smile.
"You'll keep thinking about me after this."
The cracks spread farther.
"You'll feel me when it gets quiet."
The golden eyes dimmed slowly into the darkness.
"And eventually…"
The voice softened.
"You'll want to know my name."
The dream shattered.
Sia woke violently, air tearing into his lungs.
Cold.
Everything felt cold.
His body ached as if every bone had been dragged across stone. Pale morning light filtered weakly through the thinning fog overhead while the strange crimson marks remained carved around both his eyes.
His breathing became uneven instantly.
Something felt wrong.
Not around him.
Above him.
Watching.
Sia jerked upward violently, staring toward the fog-covered trees. Nothing moved between the branches. No sound came from the graves.
Yet the feeling remained.
Heavy.
Patient.
Like something unseen had fixed its gaze onto him and refused to blink.
His trembling hand immediately pressed against his sealed eye.
The sensation worsened.
The bone flute rested silently beside him in the grass.
Ashwing was gone.
But the voice had not disappeared.
Sia could still hear faint traces of laughter lingering somewhere deep inside his thoughts.
Still blind.
Still terrified.
And no longer certain he was alone.