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It looked as though it went on for an eternity, that anything that had the sad
misfortune to fall in would travel in a perpetual fall only wishing to hit bottom.
The expanse of it carried on in every direction. There was no way around it.
I grew confused and frustrated enough to have to consult Coleridge‘s map
even in the darkness. There were small markers, basic line drawings, nothing to
indicate the chasm at all. Could this be right? Had Coleridge not encountered
this area? Impossible. He could not have made it down to Gryphant without
coming across the chasm from some point.
My mind reeled with such questions. Giving into my exhaustion I fell to my
knees at the mouth of the chasm feeling desperate and lost. Somehow I‘d made
a mistake, had taken a wrong path, perhaps gotten mixed up in the thorn
bushes and come out in an unpopulated area that wound up in a dead end.
I could feel my pent up energy and vicious determination slip and fade
away. My quest to find the Master of Weapons, to carry on Coleridge‘s legacy
and leave one of my own had come to an end before it started.
If I turned back now, which seemed like my only logical choice, I would go
straight back to the remnants of Gryphant and there I would live out my days.
My shoulders slumped forward in defeat. Suddenly I felt very tired and
before I knew it my forehead pressed against a patch of grass, my cheek
following, and I gave in to the exhaustion that had been building in me.
I slept.
I would have no visions this time. For the first time in many nights my
slumber was inviting, warm, and dreamless. It was waking that brought the real
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Cynthia Vespia
nightmare. My body lay still across the grass, as my eyes came awake I shifted
to move and found I could not.
Each limb had been staked out, stretched to its limit down to my fingers and
toes. I saw nothing that bound me but still no amount of force or will would
move me.
In desperation I cried out. ―What sorcery is this?‖
―No sorcery at all.‖
I heard the voice sound out clear as day but as I shifted my gaze as best I
could I saw none to which it belonged.
―Who‘s there?‖
My heart started jittering in panic. Unable to move, a stranger lurking in the
night, these were surely the makings of a bad situation. With all I‘d been
through so far a multitude of undesirable outcomes ravaged my mind. That trait
perhaps had been my undoing for the majority of my life.
I‘d always related situations with the most negative of outcomes. It came
from years of living in turmoil. Now it seemed as though those thoughts and
fears had manifested into something horribly real.
―Who‘s out there? Show yourself!‖ I hollered again trying to keep as much
conviction in my voice as I could muster.
―I‘m right in front of your nose. You needn‘t shout.‖
My head swam in confusion and my eyes searched the night frantically
trying to locate my most unwanted visitor.
Just then a speck of a shape sauntered forward stepping up onto the tip of
my nose. I had to adjust my sightline, and my disbelief, to make out the tiny
man who now occupied the space at the end of my nose. He was fitted in tiny
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Demon Hunter
leather boots, a green wool jerkin, and a matching stocking cap. His face was
weathered but distinguished from what I could make out.
―Who...who are you?‖ I stuttered.
―My name is Angus and you are trespassing.‖
―This is open land.‖ I argued.
―This is Cri land and your big tromping feet nearly destroyed our entire
village square.‖
―What village? I didn‘t see anything.‖
―You didn‘t bother to look. The signs are everywhere, as clear as day.‖
With the wave of his tiny hand, Angus produced a wooden sign post no
bigger than the likes of my thumb.
My anger grew within me, steaming my brow until it was red hot and I was
ready to burst.
―You‘re magical? You did this to me...tied me down. Let me up
immediately!‖
―I‘m afraid I can‘t do that. Rules are rules, you must learn your lesson. You
can‘t just go stomping people‘s homes whenever you please.‖
―How can I be expected to see such a ridiculous sign at that size? I
protested.
―You look with your eyes and the logic of your head instead of your heart.‖
Angus shook his head. ―Talos is going to have a hard time with the likes of
you.‖
The name rolled over me, through me, down to my marrow. I felt as if I
knew it somehow, or if I didn‘t that I should.
My body started to shake as I struggled once again to get up.
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Cynthia Vespia
―I have you laced down good and tight with strings of mithril. You might as
well not fight it. Your muscles will ache in the morning if you persist.‖
I stopped at his warning, stock still and petrified. My fate lay in the hands of
this tiny Gnome and his other named acquaintance who had yet to let his
presence be known.
―Who is this Talos?‖ I asked.
―You‘ll meet him soon enough.‖ Angus told me. Then he reached into a
small pouch that rested on his hip and drew out a fistful of what appeared to be
dirt or a fine, grained gold dust.
―Sleep now.‖ he whispered the words and I could scarcely hear him, but the
message drew loud and clear when he blew the dust upon my lids and I fell
unconscious.
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Demon Hunter
Chapter Six
Awakening
―Awake.‖
Now the gentle urgings of a voice I didn‘t recognize pulled me from my
strange little dream world.
As I came around fully, I realized I‘d been moved. No longer was the grass
at my back, nor were the tiny ropes pinning my body. Angus, the little
tormentor, no longer stood upon my nose lecturing me. Instead, I saw a man [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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