Calling Out to the Darkness

Sentinel Island - Zar'Tir
JP with Lorem and Omni

As evening approached, the village prepared for the communal meal. The air was soon filled with the aroma of cooking food, the sounds of laughter and conversation, and the comforting glow of the fire, creating a moment of peace.

The day’s tensions gave way to the warmth of shared food and stories, the people of Zar’tir drawing strength from their unity. Gonyaul found himself a part of this, though his energy was quickly waning due to such terrible sleep the previous nights before.

Gonyaul’s enjoyment, primarily as a spectator with fringe benefits, of the Zar’tir community and fellowship was bittersweet. It reminded him of home. It reminded him of his found family. Such memories mixed sadness with the joy and compassion he was witnessing. He didn’t let his personal feelings though detract from their time together, nor his enthusiasm when he did interact; after all, it was a moral obligation to choose to be happy, or at least act happy if one was not.

It was a cool, quiet night with the Surathi in their large communal hut. His energy though waned at an ever increasing increment, to the point he felt like he would fall asleep right then and there. He was grateful when Draza deemed it time to go back to confinement in the hut. He was escorted and locked back inside. The difference this time was there was respect for him following their directions; no man handling or forcing was necessary.

Gonyaul curled up in a fetal position on his side, in part for warmth but also because he favored sleeping on his side. He listened to the less familiar sounds of the island, his imagination trying to identify the music of the night. It was not long until he was asleep.

Pre-calculating he would have another nightmare, Gonyaul released all anxiety of the issue before relinquishing consciousness. His dream started as a path of carved totems surrounded by pitch black darkness. It felt as if the unseen environment was endless. The faces in the stone glowed ever so lightly to provide a insufficient amount of ambient lighting in the immediate vicinity. Their etched faces were twisting in agony and gnashing their teeth for relief. Lucid dreaming, Gonyaul sat down in a meditative stance and breathed. He was waiting for his expected guest, the ancient one.

“Whenever you are ready.” Gonyaul called out into the darkness. His calm in the face of a supernatural evil was uncanny; much different then threats governed by reality.

The contorted faces on the totems seemed to smile sinisterly, and a chilling laugh echoed from everywhere and nowhere. Then there was a prolonged silence, so profound that Gonyaul began to think nothing would happen. Just as he was about to move on to another thought or meditation, he heard incoherent whispers echoing from the darkness around him. Something slow and heavy moved far ahead of him, approaching through the dark. It stopped just outside of view, the sound of its movement replaced by a heavy, ominous silence.

He strained his eyes to see, but all he could make out were the contours of an utterly alien figure. It was much taller than him, and it seemed to slouch to the ground in a position mirroring his own.