Insomnia: Fear
Oct. 1st, 2019 09:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thesmallestlightFrom the Bakerstreet Meme.
Shaveth shivered in the alcove she was in, her back pressed tightly against the as she clutched the prayer beads her mother gave her tight to her chest. She was absently tapping each bead as if she were praying, though her eyes were frozen open as she watched the entrance of her little alcove.
She had tumbled through the crystalline pool in the astral plane and had found herself in the center of what appeared to be a grand city. Tall elegant spires of obsidian reaching towards a ceiling she couldn't see in the dim light, with elegent people around her. They were dark like the depths of the astral plane, with what looked like the silver strands that connected travelers atop their heads. They were not pleased to see her and quickly took aim at her, trying to hurt her as she turned and ran. Run she did, hunched, small - they couldn't hit her. She dodged through the city, rolled out of the gate, and darted into a tunnel. She was lucky as she rubbed her god bone while running: a gate was open at the first checkpoint and she managed to slide under the darks that were there, quickly gaining her feet and continuing the sprint. She didn't look back, not even when her hood fell back.
She ran, and ran, and ran, and ran... Shaveth had no clue how far she ran, nor how long she'd run, she just knew she ran. She dove past more tall dark ones, skirted her way past a strange orb that seemed to not notice her, and had to grip her head as she ran past a creature that reminded her of the black hole god that occasionally floated through the astral plane. The whispers of it reeked of corruption and it smelled of death. She kept running. She didn't stop.
She eventually found herself at what seemed to be a dead end, but her keen eyes caught what looked like a crawlspace, so she crawled. She crawled for what seemed like forever, becoming acquainted with the little spiders with eyes as bright as she, the little beetles with carapices like hers. She understood them, so small, so frightened. She tried not to hurt them.
Shaveth found the end of the crawlspace to be this alcove, and she climbed up and into it, crouching there in complete stillness and silence for at least a year. She clutched her mother to her chest as she stayed there and listened to the skittering of her friends in the crawl. She knew she should set up camp, but she was too afraid to move a muscle. This place was just as dangerous as the god isle she was from, but at least on the god isle she knew the landmarks and the twists and turns. She was clever, oh so clever, but she was very rapidly coming to grips with the reality that her cleverness was more of an intimate knowledge of her home.
She stood for another year, not moving a muscle.
Eventually she convinced herself it was safe enough, and she moved, the sound of her chitin rubbing so earshatteringly loud. She cringed as her feet clicked on the floor, and she shuddered as she set her things down and her bones and crystals rattled. She crouched again, back to wall, next to her pack, still clutching her mother. Another year passed.
She pulled her hood up and pulled her tattered cloak around her and laid down, almost writhing in a panic as she heard her chitin click against the rock. Eyes frozen on the obvious entrance to here. Another year passed.
And another.
And another.
She wasn't going to sleep. The rock wall against her back was no comfort, nor was the skittering of her little friends.
In her mind she could hear the chiding of Zhizadal, mother, warning her she would one day run somewhere too far and not be able to carry herself back. She could hear the grating disappointment in Bekruk's voice as he told her she was too weak to be the wanderer she was. She could hear the encouragement of Chonri to take her morph, become the strong knight or mother she was to be. She clutched the beads closer to her, the bone shard and fabric falling over her hand.
She was alone. She was afraid. This place was as unforgiving as the god isle, but now she had nobody to help.
She wouldn't sleep those years that night, but she would eventually find the courage to stand and move on, still cringing with every sound her chitin made.
Shaveth shivered in the alcove she was in, her back pressed tightly against the as she clutched the prayer beads her mother gave her tight to her chest. She was absently tapping each bead as if she were praying, though her eyes were frozen open as she watched the entrance of her little alcove.
She had tumbled through the crystalline pool in the astral plane and had found herself in the center of what appeared to be a grand city. Tall elegant spires of obsidian reaching towards a ceiling she couldn't see in the dim light, with elegent people around her. They were dark like the depths of the astral plane, with what looked like the silver strands that connected travelers atop their heads. They were not pleased to see her and quickly took aim at her, trying to hurt her as she turned and ran. Run she did, hunched, small - they couldn't hit her. She dodged through the city, rolled out of the gate, and darted into a tunnel. She was lucky as she rubbed her god bone while running: a gate was open at the first checkpoint and she managed to slide under the darks that were there, quickly gaining her feet and continuing the sprint. She didn't look back, not even when her hood fell back.
She ran, and ran, and ran, and ran... Shaveth had no clue how far she ran, nor how long she'd run, she just knew she ran. She dove past more tall dark ones, skirted her way past a strange orb that seemed to not notice her, and had to grip her head as she ran past a creature that reminded her of the black hole god that occasionally floated through the astral plane. The whispers of it reeked of corruption and it smelled of death. She kept running. She didn't stop.
She eventually found herself at what seemed to be a dead end, but her keen eyes caught what looked like a crawlspace, so she crawled. She crawled for what seemed like forever, becoming acquainted with the little spiders with eyes as bright as she, the little beetles with carapices like hers. She understood them, so small, so frightened. She tried not to hurt them.
Shaveth found the end of the crawlspace to be this alcove, and she climbed up and into it, crouching there in complete stillness and silence for at least a year. She clutched her mother to her chest as she stayed there and listened to the skittering of her friends in the crawl. She knew she should set up camp, but she was too afraid to move a muscle. This place was just as dangerous as the god isle she was from, but at least on the god isle she knew the landmarks and the twists and turns. She was clever, oh so clever, but she was very rapidly coming to grips with the reality that her cleverness was more of an intimate knowledge of her home.
She stood for another year, not moving a muscle.
Eventually she convinced herself it was safe enough, and she moved, the sound of her chitin rubbing so earshatteringly loud. She cringed as her feet clicked on the floor, and she shuddered as she set her things down and her bones and crystals rattled. She crouched again, back to wall, next to her pack, still clutching her mother. Another year passed.
She pulled her hood up and pulled her tattered cloak around her and laid down, almost writhing in a panic as she heard her chitin click against the rock. Eyes frozen on the obvious entrance to here. Another year passed.
And another.
And another.
She wasn't going to sleep. The rock wall against her back was no comfort, nor was the skittering of her little friends.
In her mind she could hear the chiding of Zhizadal, mother, warning her she would one day run somewhere too far and not be able to carry herself back. She could hear the grating disappointment in Bekruk's voice as he told her she was too weak to be the wanderer she was. She could hear the encouragement of Chonri to take her morph, become the strong knight or mother she was to be. She clutched the beads closer to her, the bone shard and fabric falling over her hand.
She was alone. She was afraid. This place was as unforgiving as the god isle, but now she had nobody to help.
She wouldn't sleep those years that night, but she would eventually find the courage to stand and move on, still cringing with every sound her chitin made.