Chapter VIII : Ghost's Song

416 23 0
                                    

"Don't forget-no one else sees the world the way you do, so no one else can tell the stories that you have to tell." -Charles de Lint

15 Miles North of the High Pass

The evening found Inconnu and her companions trapped in a cave with just enough room for all three of them. It was past midwinter now, a majority of the snowstorms for this section of the Misty Mountains having passed already, but it seems this one wished to linger. Howling winds raced past the smaller entrance into the cave but very little could enter. Inconnu huddled closer to Sverundr, who had fallen asleep an hour or so ago. It was hard to tell the passage of time in the cave. Inconnu stared into the lively embers of the small fire she started some while ago. She didn't add more in order to keep it aflame, as she knew to be sparing in feeding the greedy embers.

They were warm enough, and between the body heat of all in the cave and the embers their shelter from the snowstorm was cozy. Well, with the exception of the Witch-King, Inconnu thought to herself. She wasn't quite sure if he had any warmth to his form, as last she knew Er-Murazor was still cold to the touch. Looking at him now, he seemed to be in a state of deep rest now. This was good, as he needed all the rest he could get, but especially when Inconnu glanced over at where Ghost's Song was with Sverundr's tack and her normal sword.

The blade was easily within arms reach, and the longer Inconnu stared at it, the more she wanted to reach out and grasp it. An itch began to grow in the back of her mind, practically begging her to withdraw the blade from its sheath and look into its reflective surface. She had felt the itch before a few times, particularly when she would start noticing more signs of at least two large predators. Her instincts as the Huntress of the North told her that she was being hunted, a feeling she did not like to admit but knew it was true nonetheless.

Inconnu still had no clue as to what could've made those claw marks, and with no tracks to make some sort of comparison to she was left further in the dark. She hadn't been the only one to notice the slashes too on the trees as they traveled, as the Witch-King pointed them out a day ago and had hased her about them. Inconnu couldn't provide an answer, only some sort of uneasy reassurance. She knew that he knew she was concerned about this, which Sverundr picked up and his behavior became just a little more anxious whenever the large stallion caught sight of any marred trees.

Inconnu took a deep breath before releasing it with a quiet sigh, grey eyes still on Ghost's Song.

Another moment passed before she gave in and reached over for the longsword.

'It just needs a little maintenance,' Inconnu thought as she tried to give reason for the nagging sensation in the back of her mind 'it's been awhile since the last time I cared for it and even an unused blade still needs care.'

A good reason to look at the sword again, a very logical one indeed though it was shame she didn't truly believe in it. The sword rested in her hands now, Inconnu unconsciously softening her breathing pattern and so very slowly she unsheathed the blade, baring it to the soft glow of the embers. She didn't look at the metalwork of Ghost's Song just yet, as Inconnu then stole a look at Er-Murazor. There was no indication that he was aware of the sword's presence and she relaxed, though only slightly. Inconnu now dared to the look at the blade and as she stared into her reflection, staring into matching grey eyes.

Her awareness of her surroundings grew less and less...

-----

Sensation came to her. It was hot where she was, a sweltering heat in an area that she did not recognize. She couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything. Inconnu could very well feel the warm heat that threatened to engulf her.

His Corrupted Heart [Witch-King x OC]Where stories live. Discover now