Whispers in my head

Somewhere deep in a forest, a cliff wall seemed to be painted with a perfectly round and perfectly black circle. So flat and dark in fact that it seemed to swallow up light and look unreal against the rock. Like the rock was gone and only the paint remained. Abruptly breaking this strange illusion, a rucksack was ejected from the strange circle. Landing with a heavy plop in the soft dirt, followed shortly after by a rangy man with slightly broad shoulders.

Blinking in the morning sun, trying to adjust from the dark interior to the blazing sun outside. “Hell’s Bells.” He groaned, rubbing the watering eyes. He put out his arms and twisted to stretch his back, then reached down and touched his toes.

Turning back to the circle, he stepped forward and grabbed at the bottom edge and pulled, and the circle came free from the cliff face and fluttered slightly, as if it were made of cloth. The man folded it until it was the size not bigger than a handkerchief. Which he then stowed in a hidden pocket on his rucksack.

Rubbing his neck and shoulders before grabbing the bag. “I need a better bed.” he said in a bemoaning tone. After adjusting the pack he did what he did several times every day. Grasping the pendant around his neck, he gave it a hard tug, snapping the thin chain. Gathering the broken ends in his hand, he spun his wrist, twirling the necklace. Whipping it through the air fast enough a light woosh hit his ear each time it passed. Until he was satisfied with the momentum letting it go, sending it sailing off into the woods.

As he kicked dirt on last night’s campfire to kill off lingering embers, he felt the weight of the pendant return. With a sigh, he took the gem in his fingers and looked at it. “I’d have thought you’d want someone more proactive and open to persuasion.” He half grumbled to nobody, at least not anyone who could be seen. He considered repeating the overall futile gesture but decided against wasting his own time.

Then came an unseen voice. A language older than ancient. “Ahh ahnythor c' ah fahf nilgh'ri yah'or'nanah.”

To Parvil however much he understood it, the voice was like a symphony of fine china being smashed in a hail storm. “Because you are still here.” he replied in a sour tone.

“fahf ah ymg' vulgtmah llll goka throdog r'luh bestowed llll ymg'?” it hissed in response.

“Consider yourself lucky, I even respond to you.”

“Nilgh'ri Y' ot ulnah ymg' l' ah ah'n'gha ng uaaah n'ghftlloig.”

“Yes yes I know this is only the millionth time you’ve said that, not happening.” Parvil said punctuating his point by tearing free the necklace and tossing it into some thorny underbrush as he walked down the tree laden path.

When the necklace returned yet again it hissed louder to him this time. “Mgah ah'r'luh ya mglagln Iiahe if Y' mgepah soth.”

Parvil however did not respond, rather he hummed a tune as loud in his head as he could.

“Mgah cahf!” it bellowed

“Yeah yeah…” Parvil thought as he tied a cloth band around his forehead to keep his bangs out from covering his eyes.

Before setting out for the day Parvil sat down on a log and pulled out a bag of trail mix. Picking out the raisins and tossing them. “Nature's candy, pah…” he said, pouring the handful of nuts and candy coated chocolate bits into his mouth and washing it down with a swig of water from his canteen.

Parvil ate another handful of raisin-less trail mix before taking out his map. A crumbled mess of folded paper. “You can never fold these the same way twice.” he complained to himself. Studying the map he casually kicked a place clear of leaves on the ground and laid the map out. So he could stand back and look at it.

“Did I overshoot Varland?” He scratched the side of his head. “I should be here.” he pointed with a stick. “...but it’s far too cold.”

“Y' ymg' mgep'ai.” the necklace chimed in.

“No. No you didn't, you said. Ah nafl bug ahagl.”

“Ahehyee hnah.” the necklace insisted.

“It most certainly is not the same thing.” Parvil interjected “One is a warning, the other is a suggestion. You should learn the difference if you are going to act so smart.” Parvil turned his attention back to the map. “Now pipe down and let me figure out this stupid thing.”

“Ymg' won't ymg' mgah'n'ghft llll cahf.”

“What do you mean ‘you won’t find yourself on that’ do you mean I’m off map?” Parvil asked.

“Ymg' ah mgep lloig”

“Okay, firstly rude, secondly what’s North of Varland?” Parvil asked.

“Y' ah nafl kadishtu.” the necklace said.

“Oh how useful…” Parvil rolled his eyes, “Guess we find a town then.”

He began to attempt to refold his map without getting frustrated enough to just wad it into a ball to sort out later. When he heard rustling in the trees behind him, Parvil began to whisper words of power, saving the final word of his spell for when he saw the potential threat.