The Gifts of Fate

Chapter 8

Kneeling in the street, Dusk's face contorted in various expressions of pain and agony. Evening shadows fell over his broad chest, which rose and fell in heavy panting breaths, and every muscle in his arms bulge and strain like they are trying to burst free from his dark skin.

Shadows stalked around, each in the shape of wolves or dogs. Their black forms slink waiting for the moment or command to strike. Their growls sounds echo off the surrounding buildings.

Shilpy had never been fond of dogs, and these monsters, for there were few other words to describe them, didn't improve her opinion of the creatures. Some primal instinct urged her to run, but she couldn't. That would mean abandoning Dusk.

The man named Wolf stood opposite Dusk with a revolver in one hand, and the sword from the previous vision, in the other. Wolf pointed the sword towards his opponent and the creatures surrounding Dusk grow louder.

The shadows rally in response to Wolf's command. En mass they gather to a single spot a few meters in front of Dusk and then descend on him. Together they leap into the air and soar into Dusk's chest. Blood flies from Dusk's mouth hitting the concrete in front of him. Dark shape after dark shape leaps forward until they merge funneling into a single point on his body. Each twisted and turned over the others fighting for the first position until they are spinning like a screw or water down a funnel. At the apex of the tunnel, a ball of green light filters the dark shapes through its glass surface and then focuses them into his chest.

Dusk's mouth goes slack, and his body tilts left and right like a reed in the wind until the last of them disappear. For a long moment, Dusk hangs in the air poised like a puppet before collapsing to the concrete. The green ball bounces off the ground and rolls away into the middle of the road.

#

Denise placed a cup of tea onto the table and gave Shilpy the strangest of looks. It was only twenty minutes by train to her house - a three bedroom affair in Strathfield. Her flatmate, Tim spent most of the year overseas doing god only knows what, so they had the place to ourselves.

If Keres Ter Nyx were watching it then they knew Shilpy was here, but that didn't seem important anymore.

Shilpy gave Denise a verbal dump of everything she'd seen up until now in the visions, along with the discovery that Dusk may be involved with the Erisian, but would be betrayed in the not too distant future.

Shilpy didn't tell her that he had been a child soldier. She was still working through that one herself.

Denise sat with her arms crossed, trying to untangle it all. When Shilpy finished, Denise leaned back in her chair and stared across the table through half closed eyes.

"I need to find this sword. Maybe if I have another vision, or can figure out how to focus it-"

"I'm worried about you," Denise interrupted. Shilpy raised her eyebrows. Worried? "I want to forget about Dusk for a moment, and talk about you."

Shilpy nodded, a little confused, "OK."

"How often are you having visions?"

Shilpy's eyes dropped to the cup of tea. She picked it up and took a sip. The heat from the liquid scalded her lips. "I'm not sure," she answered. "Once a day, maybe three times. I think the sword, the shadows, and Eris are all connected. If we can find it first then my vision won't come true. Also, they won't be able to use it against Keres Ter Nyx."

"Stop! Listen to yourself!" Denise said, slamming her fist onto the table. Both coffee mugs jumped a fraction into the air. Brown liquid painted the wood. Denise's face twitched as she tried to regain control of her emotions. "What good is finding the sword, if you're losing your mind. You said you wanted to stop these visions."