Natanya - Journey through Oscura

[Yith]

The nightmare

When Natanya had finally gone to bed, she found herself staring at the ceiling. She lay in the drafty room at the Shiny Coppers surrounded by darkness that was only penetrated by a thin white strip of light beneath her door. Outside she heard the shuffling of feet and the muffled voices from passing patrons that stumbled down the corridor in their tired and often drunken state. She shifted left, then right, clutching her sheathed sword to her breasts, her chin resting on the round metal pummel. She had never been comfortable sleeping in strange beds, the room had an unfamiliar air about it, the blanket smelling of its dusty and damp storage chest, and no matter how she twisted and turned, she could feel the hard wooden planks through the mattress.

As time eventually passed, she fell in to a vague dream of which she was standing looking across a large drafty cavern. There was nothing here except bleak jagged rocks that stretched out in all directions like an ancient ocean petrified by some spell. Then she heard a strange noise in the distance. She first thought it to be the moaning of the cold wind that was toying with her hair. But it was not the wind, but a female voice, singing a single tone that rose in memento, as though the singer was slowly approaching. This was a sound she dreaded hearing in her waking hours, but haunted her dreams. It came from behind her, she turned on the spot and stood face to face with a tall and imposing figure. Clothed in black robes that hung loose down his slim and gaunt figure, an elf stood. His chiseled fine boned features, was framed by black raven coloured hair that hung as a contrasting curtain to his hard pallid complexion. His almond shaped green eyes were scrutinizing her and could have been described as handsome, had they not held an intense look of insanity, mixed with desperation.

She should be afraid. The memory of all this mans evil was fresh in her mind, but her Lord kept her heart at ease as though she was merely gazing at a sinister portrait that could neither harm nor touch her. Barefooted and dressed in only the long tunic she had crept to bed in, she found her sword-belt conveniently strapped around her waist and she tried to unsheathe it. The sound grew louder echoed about the room as though sung by a chorus of women, Natanya searching for it's source.

A sudden explosion threw her back, forcing her to shield her eyes. A burst of flames had erupted from the ground beneath Him and licked up along his shape in a bright light. Eventually lowering her arm she saw it was not flames. "The Oscura Well", was rising before her, and now the ghostly shapes of hundreds of mournful souls where twirling caressingly about his figure before flying up and onward, like a grotesque living pillar towering in to the darkness above.

With a delighted smile, the elf produced a white delicate hand from the depth of his now billowing robe, its slender clawed talons, reached out to her invitingly. With a stab, she was reminded of a day in the plane "where the dead still linger", and she drew back, her blade held aloft in a defensive stand.

Crunching of gravel beneath plated feet broke her attention. A handsome man of steel coloured armour, and unkempt curly brown hair had moved up along side her and she felt a stab of relief. She turned to smile at Shannon, just as a second figure made its way to her left and the calm green eyes of a female redhead, gazed over the rim of a shield baring the mark of Kelemvor. Neither took notice of her, but was staring at the elf. Natanya relaxed her guard, the family was here, she felt safe now.

Her instinct was to charge, but her wit had her bare feet rooted to the ground. She was an observer, herself being observed. She turned her gaze from the man on her right to the woman on her left, trying to get their attention. Kara moved forward. Placing her hand in his, he hoisted her carefully in to the whirlwind of shimmering light, where she with a polite nod, took a stand beside Him. Natanya shouted her objections, but her voice fell dead to the repetitive song that still rang in her ears.

Kara held his arm, her inviting smile and kind expression beckoned her to follow. She shook her head and turned to Shannon. He lowered his great-sword and slowly approached. Natanya grabbed for his shoulder but was roughly shoved aside. There she watch, as he too moved to stand beside Him. Shannon's gazed cold, emotionless and guarded, all three studying her expectantly with the elf's hand still reaching for hers.

She knew not for how long they stood so, time was irrelevant. Shaking her head, and her tears rolling freely, the elf's voice could be heard in her mind. "Your arrogance will not save you, you are weaker then they are." She knew not what he did, but with a snap of his fingers, her flesh shrunk against her bones, wrinkles spreading over her skin until it cracking dry like dust, pealed off and on to the ground. She still stood but her body was no longer corporal, she could feel neither the wind, nor the tears. Frozen in an expression of horror, she was drawn in to the whirlwind of shrieking souls, dwindling upward in uncontrollable speed as one of them, above and in to the darkness.

She awoke abruptly, her face salty with tears and sweat, her blade unsheathed on the floor along with one of her pillows. She clutched her chest to catch up with her breath, she felt normal, she was normal, everything for now was normal.