Wind blew against the azure curtains draped over the open windows, whispering her name in an almost song-like lulling. If she listened carefully, she could hear it. A wooing wind channel which wove its way into her quiet room, her private chamber, and wrapped around her horizontal form.The Fallen mind slowly succumbed to the seduction of sleep and rest.
A murky ocean greeted her on the other side, its colors as dark and dreary as long-lost hopes from the past. Dreams that did not live to see the day, each of their masts had long since crashed into the rocky bluffs to the side and fallen into the ocean's greedy hands.
Her feet were cold against the sand, who also seemed to be drained of its golden lively color and replaced with something horrifyingly unsaturated; the tone of a corpse. The water lapped at her skin as waves rolled in, wrapping around her ankles as if to grab her from where she stood.
Stacks of sand shifted behind her, giving way to footsteps. Grevaris turned her head to find the new form of company. Laden with hope, she pivoted eagerly and earnestly, but when her eyes recognized the face of her father, her heart dulled.
He looked to her with the same disapproving, stark gaze that shot through her so many times in the past she could not count them all on her hands. He was bare-chested, the unique silks of the Isldar worn around the rest of his body, draping in the wind. His pale hand lifted from his side, curling all fingers but his forefinger. It pointed straight to her, to the center of her body.
For a long while, he said not a thing. Merely standing in place, glaring icicles into her body, pointing to her in revolt. Grevaris could not escape his hellish stare. She tried opening her mouth over and over. "Go away!" she wanted to say, but the words never fell from her mouth. Her teeth trapped them in place. The same familiar knot of fear and guilt wreaked its turmoil within her, clawing its way up into her throat.
The burning, molten sun began to set behind her. Rays of red cast over her shoulders onto the face of her father, whose finger began to shape like a claw, whose body began to expand and grow, rippling with muscularity she had never before seen an Isldar behold. His head popped and cracked until it resembled that of a Varghul's, until it didn't, and took on the aspect of the hell hounds she could never forget.
He fell forward, embracing his newfound form from the Void itself with a rippling, echoing cry. In the midst of it all, he cursed her name. Nails which shifted into claws tugged on the velvet sand, dragging the demon hounds body closer to Grevaris, inch by inch. She finally gathered the strength to move, but her feet would not listen to her; for they retreated into the direction of the water.
Waves pulled her deeper, reaching up her ankle, around the calves, to the knees. Yet the hell hound continued tugging its disproportionate body ever closer, gurgling growls and words altogether. Grevaris tried lurching to the left or right, but she could not escape either fate. To die by the teeth and jaws of a creature he feared or to die by the strangling hold of the dark waters--it was a choice she never had to make.
Cold watery hands tugged on her arms, and she wondered if this is what the Isldar really felt like: Cold like death. Her face was hot from the blistering heat the hound itself conjured, and she feared that it would melt her away into nothing with one bite.
The ocean captured her up to the neck. Grevaris craned her head upwards, gasping for whatever air she could find as she pleaded to the sky to save her. The water around her shifted, taking hold of her, and began to elevate. Slowly but surely, its liquid limb stretched towards the setting sun's clouds, where light no longer reached.
A channel of storm clouds funneled and spiraled overhead, where her eyes locked. She was incapable of moving with the water's veil around her entire body. The hound no longer in sight, it howled and screamed up to her with a yearning for blood. Even then, Grevaris could not look away as the clouds funneled downwards, spiraling until they made a tunnel that let her look into the eye of the storm.
A voice she had never been able to forget split from a crack of thunder, sending lightning raining down in sheets. A burst of light shot from the heavenly storm, and the voice boomed again with clearer intent as it shook the sky and the dream-scape. Thunderous resurrection within the capsuled storm; the beat of wings that drew tornadoes down from stormy heaven.
BRING HER TO ME.
