Grand castles full of cities and heavy, luscious woods lined the horizon. Their mixtures of grays and greens flooded my sight with thick promise. It was Alvershiven’s Den; the long journey was finally over.
“Are you going to do it?” Ten-Men asked while he bent down on one knee beside me on the hill overlooking the magnificent scene. His pale yellow shoulders stood taller than my head.
“Yes,” I said, “this is what we have come for; I must.”
“Rest their souls.”
“Seize me, Ten-Men.” The star-child giant stood and positioned himself behind me. He wedged his knees heavily into the ground and then grabbed me by my arms, fastening me to the earth as surely as flesh bound by an iron stake. “Do not let go until I have returned and spoken the words of rekindling.”
And with that, I cast my eyes to the sun, capturing its rays and connecting them to my soul.
“Hivenitar,” I spoke.
A flagrant burst of light expounded from the sun and leapt through space and time into my being, filling me to the brim with astral, cosmic transmogrifying energy. It burned through my insides and masked my shape and form immaculately, holding my physical presence within Ten-Men’s grip as a glowing shell while my true essence was released. I then shot across the valley before Alvershiven’s Den like an arrow at the speed of light.
The chillanthon was waiting for me outside of my house, calling to me with its unsettling voice, tearing through my heart with its restlessness. I could hear its arms whip across its torso as they swiveled back and forth from shoulder sockets detested with freakish pivotal ability. It stood in the middle of the street, shrouded in an ink-drawn fog that swirled around the neighborhood as a cursed drape.
As it called my name, my family looked to me from beneath the dining room table with eyes that spoke of fear so deep that pus muddled their unblinking outlines. They could not speak, and might not have ever again. They did not understand what was occurring; I did. I had been thrust despairingly into an abominable fate. There was nothing left for me but to embrace the terror, pain, and incredible sadness quelling the last remnants of my life.
I took my wife’s face between my hands, followed by my children’s, drawing them close to me one by one. To each of them I left the grace of my departing love—all of the embers of goodness remaining within me to give. I left no words unspoken—no virtue unkindled. With a kiss, I sealed each of their spirits with my own, and then I walked out of my house to encounter the nightmare stalking my existence.
Here is a promo video John F. Stifter put together for Sharkchild’s book, The Dark Verse, Volume I: From the Passages of Revenants available now at www.SharkchildsRemains.com. The music was composed by Sharkchild.
The Dark Verse, Volume I Book Promo [2:13m]: Download
