Enimty

She could sense it moving in the dark, surrounding her, taunting her. She wanted to scream at it, to curse it, as it seemed to silently curse her, to taunt her. Never before has she felt so alone as she does when she is in this dark void. She has always been surrounded by love, by people that cared for her. But here, it is different. Here, she is surrounded by such hate, such enmity, rancor and hostility.


Slowly she sinks to the ground, pulling her knees up, wrapping her arms around them, maybe thinking that if she makes a smaller target, it will lose interest and go away. Her head sinks to her arms and she tries to will it to just go away, to leave her be. But such was not to be.


The first faint quivers of light show between her bare feet and make her raise her head. Then the sounds of battle assault her, and the light is bright, almost to the point that she cannot see into it, knowing that she must. Lifting her arm to try and deflect the light, she instantly wishes she had stayed ignorant to what was transpiring. In that shaft of light, what she sees makes her want to turn away, but she cannot. She will not.


He is there, fighting on foot. The weariness in his features shows so clearly, along with the fear and loathing for what he fights. Dark shapes are around him, also fighting. Are some of these his companions? Perhaps yes, but others are shadowy, terrifying creatures. Not quite men, not animals, but something in between, as she sees it. His voice cuts through the smoke and shadows as he screams at his combatants........


Show yourself, you bastards!


Never has she heard such a tone from him. Such fear, abhorrence, trepidation. She has never known him to be afraid of anything, or anyone, this favored son of the Sky. But he is now, almost to the point of panic as he fights that, which she is sure he cannot see. There is thunder, or drums, of which she is not sure. She only know that they are a portent of death, pain and sorrow.


She swears that the bolt that hit him in the shoulder had whizzed past her head on it's journey. Is this possible? His hand moves to it, then his face contorts with agony as he grasps it and pulls it out to cast it aside. The blood flows freely, unstinted. She can not only see it, but can smell and almost taste it.


Without thought, she comes to her feet and tries to run into the fray to aid him, only to find herself laying prone on that cold ground. Her hand reaches out, to find a barrier as cold as the ice from the previous winter, if not colder. Circling the barrier, she fights at it until her hands are numb from the cold, but finds to egress that will allow her to get to him.


Stumbling back, all she can do is watch with horrified eyes as he and his companions continue to fight and to fall. Rage and fear overcome her and she turns in the darkness and curses that thing with her. It is then that she realizes, that it feeds off of her fears, off of the rage that has suddenly consumed her soul. Turning, she sees him fall, then all was black. There was nothing more.


And she begins to scream, and scream, and scream, as she struggles to pull herself up. It is like she is drowning, fighting to resurface into sanity, battling against the madness that tries to pull her down. The antipathy is strangling her, sucking the air and the life from her, but still she fights.


She breaks free, like a drowning woman finding air above the surface of the suffocating waters, and realizes that she is still screaming. Then there is a jolt of something else, the touch of a small, cool hand on her arm. Her head whips around, and there beside her furs kneels Also, his eyes round with untold emotions and fears. She pulls back, not wanting him to touch her, not wanting him to be tainted by what still has its' grip on her.


Go! Go! Run Also, run and do not stop! Slowly his head shakes and he whispers.


It is gone.