From the Realm Beyond the Boundary

***The following is the third installment in a series of fictional stories that is part of a collaborative effort of Vocal Creators. Check out Part 1, Beyond the Boundary by Lena and Part 2, To the Realm Beyond by Danielle Nelson. More stories are soon to follow.

From the Realm Beyond the Boundary

A long time ago I had a name.

Now they called me The Sickness.

I creep into the minds of men, slithering through their darkest desires and most forbidden thoughts, and I circle my claws around their hearts and squeeze until they beat out of sync with the world. I play with their bodies like puppets on a string until they meld like clay in my hands, and with vicious abandon, I rip out their inhibitions and set them loose upon each other. Then with nimble fingers, I add them to the pile.

Sometimes, I would hear the screams even from the mountains, as in the village below, the men tore themselves apart like lawless beasts. Sometimes, I would see the smoke rise from their little houses. Sometimes, I would even feel their fear.

My fingers rested lithely across the snow as I sat idle with my back against a tall fir tree. Wind whistled through their branches and cast light green needles across the ground, flitting snow across the rocky, white-coated mountainside. The pale bit of sunlight that made it through the stormy clouds above glittered against the snowflakes, decorating the air with a fairy-like mirage.

A peaceful bliss settled over the world and something almost resembling a smile crossed my lips. I had just begun to trace patterns in the snow when a bullet of ice shot through my heart, and I sat up sharp, my eyes snapping towards the east side of the mountains, where, beyond the frozen lake, the last remaining village lied.

I had felt them all, every last soul that ventured into my realm, and I have let them perish one after another at the hands of the Iblis that wandered the forests at the foot of the mountain. None who came ever went back.

But something was different this time.

A familiarity burned through my veins like poison.

I picked myself up off the ground and began to climb. I grabbed onto frozen branches and hauled myself upwards, with the crack of ice crunching under my bare toes and the screech of my ice-crusted gown tearing at the fingers of the thorns cropped up out of the snow echoing throughout the otherwise empty mountainside.

The air grew thinner the higher I climbed until I could not breathe at all, but still, I continued to ascend.

I did not need to breathe. It was a pitiful comfort, a mournful melancholy reminder that once I had been as human as the men I crushed in my palms. Now I was the monster they all feared.

I paused at the mountain’s peak, gazing out over the desolate landscape beyond the mountainous barrier where men and monsters roamed free without law or restraint, where often, the men were more the monsters than the beasts themselves.

I turned from west to east and bowed my head, folding my arms over my torso. And I sat down at the apex of my castle of snow and stone.

I could have been a queen, they’d told me.

But fate had other plans.

I lifted my head and put up a hand against the glare of the sun glinting across the clouds. My eyes locked on the tiny figure scrambling across the ice far, far below. Fire shot through my stone-cold heart, and something sharp twisted in my gut, and for an instant, the whole world went still.

Saraya.

But it was not her. It could not be her.

After all, it was I who had killed her.

My lifeless heart skipped a beat and my breath caught in empty lungs. For a moment, I wavered. Then I viciously shoved it aside. I could not lose myself now, not with my powers growing to heights I have never experienced before, not while my influence spread like a wildfire across the land.

Saraya had stopped me once.

I would not let her descendent do it again.

With a fierce set to my lips, I began to rise, only to stop cold when white fur flashed across the ice. Four great snowy paws planted themselves beside the girl, hackles raised and canines bared, facing off against the forest ahead and the creatures only we knew hid within.

My feet skid down the ice back into the forested mountainside, quick and nimble movements guiding me across the ledges down to its base.

By offering his aid, Savaric sent his message clear as day.

It was time.

But I was not ready to go.

Decades had passed since I’d gazed into his milky white eyes, since he had spoken to me with a voice so gravelly and so grave it had seemed to have risen from the depths of the earth itself. That day had been the only time I had ever stepped foot upon the ice. And I believed it had been the last.

I was a fool to think Savaric had given up.

My tears froze on my lashes as I pushed through the forest. I could still see it all, hear it all, feel it all. Flashes of her hair, white fur and snarling teeth, a gentle touch on my lips, the clouds darkening with fury, moonlight glinting off the icicles hanging from the trees, crooked figures stalking our every step, and the blue tips of my fingers as they pressed against her cheek, the look in her eyes as the ice wrapped her in its arms, as her hair turned stark white and her skin pale as the snow beneath her feet. The color drained from her body as her life leaked away and then she was gone, my fingers curling tight around empty air as, with a resonating crack, her body hit the ice.

I stepped into the mountain pass, the only gateway into the realm of men and monsters. Shadows danced around me with every step, great walls of solid rock looming tall on either side. The cliffs narrowed the higher they rose until only a sliver of light could pass through, encasing the frozen crevice below in a bleak abyss of semi-darkness. Wind shrieked across the stone and rocks cracked under their own weight, sending skittering stones tumbling down the icy walls.

I faced the final wall, the end of all things human and the beginning of the beyond.

Her footsteps came ever closer, the muted crackle of snow beneath her boots a steady beat in my chest until the last beat struck and silence settled over us.

I turned to face her.

She nearly took a step back, suppressing a quiet exhale.

I observed as her eyes ran over my figure. Black swirled across the whites of my eyes and tainted my irises in ink. Hair the color of clouds cascaded down my back, its curls pulled out long ago and neglected to the elements. The blue of cold stained my skin, barely hidden under a tattered, ice-crusted gown with faded memories of baby blue. Finally, her gaze came to rest on the ice fastening my lips shut. Then they meet mine.

I dug my nails into my wrists.

She looked so much like her.

Saraya’s gentle wisps of chestnut hair tickled the girl’s flushed cheeks, and those identical freckles brushed across her nose. The same outfit decorated her body, a different fabric with a different maker, but the same style, the same loops, and diagonal seams, and the same type of fur. Those wooden buttons carved with symbols long ago lost to time, I could recognize anywhere. They were hers. Even the look in the girl’s deep mocha eyes hit the same.

Determination glimmered behind flashes of fear, and courage danced with desperation, a combination of deadly proportions.

Behind her Savaric paced back and forth, muscles rippling in agitation. I refused to look at him, even though his eyes remained solely on me. But he revealed nothing.

I motioned her towards me and with a hesitant glance back at Savaric, she took a step forward. I turned and laid a hand on the cliffside, peering up hundreds of feet to the top. When I glanced back at her, she’d gone pale.

I held out my other hand and she tentatively placed her gloved fingers over mine. I guided her palm to one of the outcroppings and curled her fingers around the stone. Her head tilted up to the sky and her body trembled, but though she turned her eyes back to me and her snow-dusted brows furrowed, she said nothing.

I did not tell her who I am. She does not realize I am one of them.

She had no idea that she had come here to defeat me.

I motioned for her to climb and as she hooked her feet into the outcroppings of the rocks and gripped the wall above with gloved hands, I glanced over my shoulders into the shadowy eyes of the Iblis behind us, their crooked, warped figures rippling in the wind.

I turned away and began to climb.

***If you enjoyed this installment of our collaboration, make sure to check out Part 1 & Part 2, and keep an eye out for the next upcoming 7 parts. The Fourth Installment will be written by Vocal Creator Esmoore Shurpit, so give her a visit, and don't forget to follow along on the journey through The Realm of Men and Monsters.***

If you're a fan of fantastical worlds, fast-paced action, and surprising adventures, check out Kersali's story while you wait for the next installment of this mystical winter series.

Enjoying what you've read so far? Leave a heart and subscribe for more!