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Verses of the Black Sands

Part 10

By E.B. MahoneyPublished 3 months ago 1 min read
Verses of the Black Sands
Photo by Milada Vigerova on Unsplash

Collecting her cloak from the ground, she proceeded down the tower steps with Laukey’s band of men and eventually made it to where they had set up camp.

Urla spent a night on the hard stone of the ruins of Hrathen, wrapped in her cloak. She had no inkling of whether her signal with the fire had been seen. She merely hoped she discovered soon.

Urla woke to screams. Not the kind of men, but the unearthly cries of a beast. It was high and lilting and pierced to her core. Around her, Laukey’s men scrambled to their feet, calling to one another in panic. Someone collided with her, grabbing her and pulling her toward the camels. She recognised it, barely, as the man from before. Barir.

“Help me get the camels ready!” He called over the screeches. She followed him willingly. She would rather stay with Laukey’s men and live than face whatever terror resided in the ruins and die. The sun was beginning to rise as the sky was a good deal lighter than it was a few hours before.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Laukey, running between his men, calling out instructions. The camel Urla was tending to lurched to its feet, leaving her stranded on the ground. Barir pulled the beast towards a fallen wall, making to climb up.

Someone grabbed her roughly from behind. Laukey. He helped her onto his camel, rising and heading out swiftly down the path to the gates of the ruin. Screams of men rose around her. Barir and his mount nearly collided with them. Whatever dwelled in this place they had disturbed, it was an omen of death. Perhaps it was a demon of old, come to bear their souls to judgement.

And that was when she saw the great wryme. It's coiling, jagged hide. Gliding through shadows like a viper through sand.

heartbreaksurreal poetryCONTENT WARNING

About the Creator

E.B. Mahoney

Aspiring author, artist, and sleep deprived student. Based in Australia, E.B. Mahoney enjoys climbing trees, playing a real-world version of a fictional sport, and writing in the scant spare time she has left.


Pax tecum Tom Bradbury

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  • Naveed 3 months ago

    This was so deep and powerful!

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