And Then There Is Fear
The moment seems to freeze, and all of you feel it, trapped in your own bodies as the temperature plummets and you cannot even force breath into lungs which strain against a winter so deep and terrible that it feels it may never end.
That is bad. The voice is worse.
She is confident and so cruel that you almost piss yourselves at the sound of her darkening voice whipping out to flay your confidence from far away. Perhaps you do. She is ageless and eternal and she burns like the heart of the sun whilst freezing your bones like the coldest depths of the ocean. Hers is the voice that cannot be resisted, that no prayer can deny, no door can deafen and no nightmare can withstand. She is like nothing you have ever heard or would want to hear again even though from now on you will always hear her when the dark is at your back or the cold has found your marrow. She will always be waiting for you in the dark or under the bed or in the moment that you know you will die alone. And she speaks.
“You five are bound in this as surely as my wayward offspring. I cannot seize you back from that place for long, but for a time… perhaps. The Dreaming Knight, Lord of Power, Saint of Brothers, Leader of a Forgotten Land and, yes…” At this, she laughs, and it is the most bitter sound. “Even The Ghost of Tharinos. You are needed elsewhere. For a moment, I will make as long as I can.”
It is not you who are whisked through the world this time, but the world which cracks as though it were frozen ice. The shackles around Kincaid’s wrists flare with brilliant blue power, and you are in darkness, many of you without voice, but with the sense that there are others here ensconced in the tenebral force