1.10

The screams of the night had forced the group to move forward at what felt as an inhuman speed. The horses had been left two hours before since they refused to move any further. Lars led the way with Clark close behind. Cassandra was bringing up the rear and it was her that just an hour before had alerted them to quickly hide.

Secure in hiding they could see five beasts running easily up the narrow road jumping up the tight bends with great leaps. In the moon light it was as if seeing a vision of evolution taking a tight turn to deliver something not of this land. Large open mouths filled with long sharp teeth shone in the light and as they leaped up onto rocks and stones their fangs sent sparks across the darkness.
When the sounds of the beasts was disappering upwards the three ventured out onto the road again and cautiously continued their climb towards the nest.

As the morning light started to break through the clouds at the horizon they arrived as close to the nest as the road would lead them and they started to climb the steep hillside. Helping each other and through careful choices of the route they managed to move the last few hundered meters upwards in barely two hours. Sweating and tired they took the last few climbs upwards to find the nest close to empty. In the nest only two creatures laid slain.
Each was humanoid with thick fur and large teeth. Each was dead since hours and had terror in their eyes. And both was severly dismembered. Blood was drying in their fur and the stink of flesh and feces was heavy. A shredded piece of cloth stuck to some branches in the nest but of the woman there was no sign.

Clark through his hands up into the air as if giving up hope and sat down on the sticky branches.
- What now?, he asked
Lars and Cassandra looked at each other and shrugged.
- I guess we might as well go down again, so much for nothing

3.7

Fangs slicing through muscletissue and flesh. Red eyes gleaming with rage. Howls embedding in the ears and provoking further howls. A landscape of stone and rock racing by at breakneck speed. A target at a distance closing in quickly. Innocent bystanders ignored, all for the final goal. A great leap and a heavy landing. Fangs extended and teeths showed fully. Biting and clawing in a frenzy in the darkness.

Hiding, waiting, biding the time.

Emelie woke up screaming not understanding why she could only follow, not interact. Darkness almost all around. Only the soft breathing of the great bird standing beside her sleeping area. The scream was waking it up, making it blink in the thin moonlight. It looked down and her and then scanned all around the large nest. Shuffling it's feathers it closed it's eyes again, going back to sleep.

Echoing over the mountains a bloodcurling scream rolled up against the nest getting Emelie to immidiatly curl up into a small ball. The eagle woke up faster this time looking towards where the sound came. It's response was a loud squeal thundering down the mountain.

4.4

The steep climb was taking it's toll on the horses. The speed was slow and the nighttime was closing in fast. The last few hours they had been going upwards through an ever increasingly hostile environment. From time to time they could hear the goal of their race, the cry of the eagle high above. Though they had travelled far they was still far from it's nest and they had to follow the narrow rocky road winding it's way upwards.
Lord Anon had become ever more detached from the others in the wagon. He was contemplating what ever it was that had gone wrong. It was supposed to have been so simple, just go to the monestary to meet the saviour and then bring her to the castle. Then all would be well, but now nothing was well at all.
Grief was turning into blame and in his inner eye he was searching for whom to lay it upon. The archlord was slowly but surely being singled out as the one that could have caused it all, perhaps as a twisted test or joke. No, not joke, it could not be. The archlord know the danger involved and the consequences if she was to fall into the wrong hands.

Darkness was falling faster now, engulfing the world in a purple haze. For some a soothing environment but to Lord Anon a place where claustrophobia could dwell.
The wagon stopped as the horses cried out a short abrupted cry. Snarls and wolflike barks were heard all around the wagon which woke Lord Anon out of his own misery.
- Devil, what is the racket?, he bellowed as he saw his aide pulling down the blinds for the windows.
- Wolfs my liege.
- Well do something about it then, he said and pushed him out as he opened the door. Scare them away.

- Lord, you may want to see this, the aide said as he opened the door.
As the Lord looked out and forward he saw the two horses laying on the ground bleeding heavily from large wounds to the neck and belly. The were obviously already dead he could see. As he stepped out he saw dripping of blood from the top of the wagon. Before he looked up he said,
- This is no wolfs doing.

3.6

Rough branches tore into her skin when she woke up. The light was already blinding as she tried to shield her eyes. As she moved about a great shadow fell over her as the eagle stepped infront of the sun. She looked up at the great bird and remembered calling for it, felling it and being it.
Cornered on the parapet she had felt no other option than to reach out as far and forcefully as she could. And at a distance she had felt an animal larger than anything else that was flying. The beast had been willing and before long she had been heading away from the captivity. But the concentration needed to keep control of the eagle had drained her powers quickly and she had had to land here at a large nest for rest. She must have slept throughout the night and long into the morning considering how high the sun was.

Looking down out over the lowlands she could see people moving towards her. Three distinct trails of dust was racing through the dry landscape. First she saw a small group of riders, some miles behind she saw a single wagon and far behind them a small sandstorm was gaining on the other two groups with an alarming rate.

Still tired she fell into a deep sleep once more dreaming of movements tugging her around in a field covered in fog. Screams of desperate children echoing all around her. Devoco! Indolentia!

1.9

The ale was bitter and room temperatured. Smoke was hanging heavy throughout the tavern and at most of the tables men sat sunken deep in their own thoughts and inspected the bottom of their mugs. From time to time someone would cough terribly or shout an order to one of the two elderly waitresses attending them. At the far end of the room Clark saw two slim long shadows of men moving unnoticed among the bar patrons, sometimes sliding through some drunk causing him to dom something or say something. This was mostly ignored by the rest but every now and then a short shuffle or fight broke out because of it. Every time this happened the shadows stood still inspecting what that was happening as if studying.

- Those are the enemy, Cassandra said. We don't know how to stop them yet but me and Lars have travelled the lands for a long time and there are more of those creatures here than anywhere else we have seen. And there have arrived many more in the last few days. We assume that it has to do with the girl and the eagle so we must follow it. The girl obviously is important to many people.
- Those are some large mountains, I saw that when riding in. How sh..
- Shh, quiet. One is coming here
One of the shadows moved in close to them and moved around as if searching for something.
- So as I was saying I think that was a splendid show the guards did there by the parapet, don't you think my dear?, Lars said
- So it was, too bad they did not develop some wings, haha. Cassandra laughed a clearly faked and overstressed laugh
- It was truly a sight to see, Clark continued and laughed shortly too.
The shadow moved behind Cassandra and slipped into her.
- You don't love me Lars, I have had a lover, she blurted out.
Lars looked confused and then upset but he didn't say anything. Cassandra swept over the table with her arm and sent a mug of ale flying.
- Now calm down Cassandra, Lars insisted looking stern but making sure not to be aggressive.
Clark saw the shadow slip out of Cassandra and move over to another shadow. In the corner of his eye he saw two more shadows join the others, all standing in a group as if discussing.
- I do think we should get a move on, Cassandra said quietly.
- I agree, Lars replied.
They stood up calmly, left a few coins on the table and started to walk towards the door. Halfway there they met a waitress carrying three plates.
- But your food?
- We're not hungry now, Cassandra replied. We left enough money to cover us. Good bye.
Outside they quickened their paces and moved over to the stable
- No horse right?
- No horse now, Said Clark.
Lars went over to the stable keeper and quietly discussed for a minute after which he said.
- We can take any three horses we like.

Riding westwards at a blistering speed Clark felt good. It was as if he had found what he really wanted to do. He was free and felt stronger now than when he had just been a musician. He was more now, obviously he could do much more. He had never been on a horse until just a few days ago. The sun was starting to set but they urged the horses on in an ever increasingly desolate landscape. The farmland was slowly withdrawing and being replaced by a rocky terrain with broken dried patches of sand as if the sun had been too intense. The mountains was growing larger infront of them and as the sun set behind them they seemed to burn like ember.

4.3

Running through the gates Lord Anon was concerned. He had seen the great eagle descend and his mind was racing through the scriptures that he had read so many times in his life.

A child of mark be born
To free the world from blaze
Among the ruined youth
A touch of god will guide
A touch of damned will find
The scar of scorned inside
For she must not be freed
Or earths unknown we'll see
An eagles bloodied nest
The death is to the west

As he reached the parapet the eagle was long gone.
- Where is the girl?, he shouted to a group of guards.
- The eagle has her now Lord, one of the guards replied and lowered his head.
- Bring me to your archlord!
The guard did not answer but silently showed the way with his hand and started to walk down the stairs to the inner halls of the monestary. On the way they met the supreme priest who was climbing the stairs with heavy steps.
- The girl has been removed, Lord Anon declared and squeezed his way past the priest. The archlord will know what action to take.
Through several large rooms filled with expensive furniture, large paintings and gigantic fireplaces they passed until they reached a small room with two simple but comfortable chairs in it. The room was divided in half by a large velvet curtain that blocked the view. Infront of the curtain at each wall there was a guard posted with long halberds. Lord Anon and the supreme priest sat on the chairs and went all quiet. A deep breathing moved across the room and seemed to disappear behind the curtain.
- Lord Anon, a calm almost boyish voice said.
- Archlord, Lord Anon replied.
- Priest from beyond, the voice snarled
- Supreme Priest, my Archlord. There was a clear feeling of hostility in the way he said it Lord Anon thought.
- The girl is gone, Lord Anon confessed
- It is most regretful. She must be found and returned safely immidiatly. You have my task to do this Lord, make sure it is done swiftly. Your first stop shall be the groove of tree due west from Banford, there you will meet companions. Now go bring what is ours back.
It was silent for a short time.
- And you priest, leave and return to Marshmountain. Make sure Lord Anons domain remains unthreathened.
- Yes Archlord, both men replied as they stood up and left the room without looking back.

2.7

- Doomed I tell you!
- Shut up, will someone shut that head up now!
- Yes boss.
The wrap around Jobs head wasa wound harder and a few more layers of cloth placed around it to almost block all the noise.
- A small blessing, Petrus said, thank you Lateralus.
Lateralus dropped the head back in the cart and walked up beside Petrus again.
- You do not think there can be any truth in what he says?
- He has not given any proof of what he claims. All he has done is to scream doom and curse at people passing by. He is surely insane, as perhaps we are too for listening to him. For gods sake! He is a decapitated head, he should be quiet and starting to smell foul by now.
A screech made them look up.
- That is one big bird Petrus, he said.
- That my uneducated fellow is an eagle thought dead for eons, an ebon eagle. Descendant of the gods pets.
Petrus followed the eagles path until it disappeared among the clouds. Never had he thought he would see one of those creatures. His thoughts was brought back to reality by a heavy pounding in one of the crates. Another pounding almost lifted the lid of a crate and a wild howl was heard.
Lateralus and Petrus looked at each other in fright and grabbed hold of Josef and ran towards a ditch for shelter. Diving into the waistdeep muddy water a tremendous smash was heard and splinters of wood came flying across the air. The three men hid along the side of the ditch not daring to move and the pounding and breaking of wood continued for minutes.
A rip of fabric and then a terrified scream of Job was followed by a hissing sound and another wild howl. A few more minutes of smashing wood was ended by Jobs head being flinged through the air landing on the slope of the ditch beside the men. The heads eyes was glowing brightly and it was screaming as if it had seen the death of deaths.
After the head had gone quiet and the noices had died Petrus held his men down in the ditch for a long time before carefully peering up over the side of it. The crates were smashed to pieces, sand and straw spread wide. The cart was totally destroyed and the two horses lay slained on the ground, Petrus could not remember ever hearing the animals die. On the ground large clawed tracks lead of over the side of the road where they abruptly ended.

1.8

As Clarks horse rode into Banford the weather was closing in on the town. Dark clouds were blossoming and a cold wind was gaining in strength. On the far side of the monestary he could see the occasional lightning and hear the roar of thunder. The horse stopped just before the crowd infront of the monestary bacame to thick to move and Clark dismounted. Without him doing anything the horse rose on its hind legs, whinnied and rode off out of the town.
I guess it knew it's work here was done, Clark thought to himself and started to orient himself. A tavern to the left, some blacksmiths and stables to the right. Infront of him the monestary and behind him was a large number of smaller houses and dwellings. Most of the citizens of the town seemed to have left their homes and was gathered in the crowd.
Clark got the attention of an elderly man beside him and asked,
- What is going on here?
The man smiled a toothless smile and just pointed upwards, towards the parapet of the monestary.
Peering hard he could make out a silhouette against the dark skies. A lightningflash illuminated a slender figure standing totally still with it's arms stretched out wide.
A screech was heard from a far distance and the figures arms moved slightly. On either side of the parapet armed men stood at guard aiming their weapons toward the figure, they seemed to be shouting something but the meaning of it was lost in the sound of the increasing storm.
Behind him Clark could hear shouting and frightened screams. When he turned his head he saw a large wagon pulled by two large horses running towards him. He yelped of surprise and shock and jumped sideways to avoid the wagon. It was just centimeters from running him over but he counted himself lucky, in the wake of the wagon people were laying around with wounds and bruises. The beastly screech was heard again, this time closer and louder.
- An ebon eagle, Clark half spoke, half whispered to himself. How he knew this he did not know. He had never heard of it but still he knew it's call.
The wagon had made it all the way to the monestary gate where cleric guards were pushing people away to allow the Lord Anon to entrence to it.
Over the parapet Clark saw an immense shadow swoop in and land behind the figure. Folding it impressing wings the ebon eagle swept wide enough to push two of the guard over the side screaming until they hit the muddy ground. The figure held on to the leg of the eagle and it screeched loudly once more before flapping it's wings causing even harder winds for the people on the ground to deal with. The eagle flew off towards the large mountain range in the west with long powerful wingbeats.
- I'll be damned, Clark said
- And you damn sure should be, he heard from his right side accompanied by a deep laughter.
A large man and a small woman was standing beside him.
- You don't look like a commoner, said the woman.
- No I guess I don't really, I'm fresh from Craw, Clark replied.
The man and woman looked at eachother.
- Ok, I guess that is a good thing. An ebon eagle you said.
- Did I?
- Yes just before the beast landed.
Clark realised he had spoken a little too loud to himself.
- It was an ebon eagle but I do not know why I know that.
The woman leaned towards him and whispered in his ear,
- This is not the place to discuss this matter. Eager ears these commoners wear, lets not destroy their view of the world. Follow us to the tavern, have some drink and food and perhaps more.

3.5

Scuttling through the debris she smelled fresh bread. The hunger was tearing through her mind like a ice dagger, why did she have to chose a hungry rat or perhaps all rats were hungry all the time? She remembered the rodent she had tricked up on the rock, that one had been hungry as well. Looking around she saw the doorway to the kitchen and ran through following the wall around some side tables and then quickly infront of the large oven. Heavyset women were working doughs and preparing large chunks of meat and vegetables for the evening dinner. Jumping in behind a table she found some dropped vegetables that she greedily ate. After calming her stomach slightly she could think more clearly. Now where would her room be? The kitchen she supposed was in the basement so she would need to climb up somehow. She looked around the kitchen until her eyes found a service elevator. It was already half stacked with foods to be served at the dinner which would be a perfect way to quickly move up. Hiding as best she could she ran towards the elevator and was just about to jump up on a table placed just beside it when one of the women placed a large plate on the table blocking her way. Scrambling to stop and move into the shadow she accidentally disturbed some cutlery hanging along the side of the table. The clang of metal made the woman look down and see her. The scream that Emelie was expecting never came, but a tenderizing hammer did.

Emelie was shocked to be back in the white room. She had never been in a body dying until now and it was a frightening moment. She felt beads of cold sweat on her forehead. Concentrating on her breathing calmed her down enough to begin focusing again.
- No more deaths, ok?, she said to herself

- Squeek.
She was looking at another rat. It was brown and quite a bit larger than herself and it was showing it's sharp teeth at her. She put her head low by instinct and backed away far enough so she could turn and run away. After backing up a bit the other rat seemed to calm down and she moved away from it trying to figure out where she was now. She was even more careful to keep out of the light now. Waiting in the darkness under a bed until it looked safe and then run for shelter under a locker and then in under a closet. In the room she could hear several voices talking calmly and a few snores. Soldiers quarters she thought, it has to be close for here.
She stayed under the closet for some time figuring out how many men it was here, she managed to figure out it had to be six or seven of them, there could be more but they would have to be really silent while sleeping. She had tried to use her sence of smell to figure it out but again the smell of food was disturbing her concentration. Beside the closet there was a door leading into a circle stair heading upwards. There was no way down so she figured she once more had ended up in the basement. She jumped the stairs up to the second floor and was happy to do so unnoticed. She was in luck, here she could smell her own scent from her body in the white room, it was down a hallway that ended in a small room in which there was a table and a few chairs. A candle was burning on the table and there was some papers beside it and a quill of ink.
She could here the steps of a man heading towards the room. She hid under the table andsaw a guard with a large black dog entering the room. She saw the dog catch her rat smell and rush in under the table. The guard managed to hold on to the dog and yank it's chain so hard it almost choked the dog. The dog growled loudly when the guard pulled in the chain again and started moving towards the white room. Emelie switched to the dog and felt a surge of violence rush through her. She had an idea and a way that could just set her free.

The guard slid open the large wooden beam that locked the door and prepared to open the door when the dog all of a sudden snarled and attacked him. It jumped up towards his face but he managed to raise an arm in selfdefence. The sharp teeth of the canine dug deep into the flesh and the guard screamed in pain as he tried to shake the dog loose. Another attack landed hard over his ancle and he fell to the ground and his good arm stretched down towards the leg wound. The feriocious dog saw it's chance and fast as a dervish dug it's teeth deep into the throat of the guard. A gurlging sound bubbled up from the lungs of the guard as Emelie sent the dog running down the hallway and let it's mind go.

Coming back to herself she slowly stood up and carefully opened the heavy door. She stepped around the dying guard who tried to grab for her but she kept out of his reach. Then she ran down the hallway, past the circle stairs and down another hallway. At each doorway she stopped and peered in to make sure noone was there. She could hear the sound of the dinner going on upstairs so she continued to move towards freedom whereever it might be.

1.7

- There is a lapse in the human mind that filters out things that stretch beyond it's own imagination. It can be triggered when encountering something too unbelievable for the individual or because of some global trauma. Banes use this lapse to the fullest. After ages of living in the dark they one day stepped out into the light. It was then that they realised that most humans do not have the capability to even notice. This have emigrated them into all the folds of humanity but they are careful to observe newcomers and people that act outside their sets of normal behaviour. This is why you must act ignorant to astounding things happening beside people acting oblivious.
- You mean that these Banes walk among people unnoticed?
- Yes, totally unnoticed. But this have posed a problem for the Banes as well. Since they are removed from human conciousness so completely they have to use tricks to manipulate humans. This can be made through things that humans call supernatural.
- Ghosts and mindreaders and such?
- Basically yes. And if they have a calm enough environment they have an excellent opportunity when humans sleep.
Clark closed his eyes and concentrated on remembering all this unbelievable storymaking. It sounded like a ramblings of a deranged mind but too much strange things had happened to him already to just ignore it.

The old woman continued to explain the world of now for a long time but she seemed to avoid the obvious question and finally Clark couldn't hold it back anymore.
- All of this is just weird but the main question is, why are they doing this?
- That is what you have to help me find out. There are news about an epic event about to unfold that the Banes have failed to defuse. Something that can disrupt the powerbalance they now hold. I think it is time you travel to Banford where you will meet up with three others like you.
- Ok, I will play your game
- This is no game! And you should make haste from now on. Banford is two days quick riding from here.
The old woman stood up and walked into the kitchen.
- I will pack you a meal if you ready the horse.
- What horse?
- The one in the stable of course.

In the stable a giant of a steed stood waiting for him. Dark with a few brighter patches with a mane flowing far longer than he had seen on any of the horses in his youth. The horse seemed very calm and it was an easy task to saddle up. The old woman came and filled the saddle bags with food and a pack of what she called things nice to have.
- It is time for us to say good bye. I'm called old lady Craw by the way. The ones like you know me and will help you if they can. Good bye.
- Good bye old lady Craw.
The horse proved to be a most powerful one with great speed and stamina. Clark went sore and tired long before the horse showed even the slightest hint of getting tired. They only stopped to eat or sleep. It seemed as if the horse knew where to go as it weaved across grassy fields and along roads. At a distance Clark could see villages settled among farmland, small forests and rolling hillls. At regular intervals he noticed large buildings floating halfway to the clouds above the villagesbut did his best not to act as if he had noticed them for who knew who watched.

On midday of the second day he was riding past a line of wagons and carts that had got stuck in a long que. With the traffic coming towards him as well the horse turned over the ditch and rode alongside the road. As he rode past the broke cart that had caused the long cue he saw the most peculiar sight. A large wagon was just passing by the broken cart with a wealthy man waving towards an angry man on the ground who was screaming back at the wagon. Stretched out over a crate on the ground there was a dark slim shadow of a figure who had placed it's head into a dead mans head and was screaming towards the wagon as well. All he could hear over the steady thumping of hoofs was, Damnation! Lord Anon!

2.6

They stopped for the night at a small guesthouse but choose to sleep by the carts. At the break of dawn they paid their dues and got up in the carts again for the final part of the journey. Barely 7 hours of traveling was left according to the owner of the guesthouse.

The traffic on the road was light in the early hour but was quickly getting heavier. Most of the traffic was going towards Benford but the wagons and cart heading the opposite direction caused the travelling to become an affair of squeezing by eachother with just inches to spare.
The road in this area had been laid with stone instead of being just a dirtroad. This made it more durable but also tougher on the carts. After some miles of the stone road the left rear wheel of the second wagon had had enough and broke at the spoke. The cart collapsed backwards and the three crates slid back and broke open slightly at the impact with the stones. Jobs head rolled out of the cart en rolled down into a ditch. From the crates a thin stream of white sand and straw fell out.
- Get me outta here!, could immidiatly be heard from the ditch.
Petrus jumped quickly out of the cart and started ordering the others around.
- Seal those crates, inspect the damage on the cart, get those wheel parts, find the tools. And someone hide that japping head!
After finding the tools and pulling the crates down on the road they mended them hastily with some nails and inspected the cart.
- Sorry Petrus but the impact cracked the woodwork of the cart and it would need a fair amount of repairs to work again.
This was not the news Petrus was in the mood for but he had to trust his companions with their craftmanship.
- Ok, we move the crates to the other cart and continue on. It will mean we will have to walk from now on but the goods will be delivered and they will be delivered on time. Get a move on now!

A coachdriver shouted at Petrus and his men to move but Petrus waved him away.
- We are working as fast as we can!, he shouted back
- My lord is very pressed for time. He will be most unpleased with you unless you move now!
- I cannot magically make this move by itself! Can you?, Petrus shouted back more than a little annoyed.
But the large wagon started to roll by no matter what and Petrus had to move aside quick to avoid being run over. Just as they passed by the rear wheel got stuck on one of the crates and began rolling over it cracking it in the process.
- Stop now! You are destroying my goods!
- It is too late to stop now, the coachdriver shouted looking back guiltily.
Out through the side window a welldressed man looked out, waved slightly and said,
- It is for the good of the country. We thank you for your sacrifice.
- It is him, the lord Anon! It is the damnation! Stop that wagon or we are doomed!, screamed Jobs head.

4.2

Even with the expensive suspension of the royal wagon it was a bumpy ride between Marshmountain and Banford. Lord Anon was unusually joyous and talked at length with the supreme priest about all sibjects that came to mind. He even gave hints about how he thought the priest should try out one of his many dress maidens. They were all very enjoyable he exclaimed with a booming voice. The priest tried to tell the Lord that he had taken a vow of absense which promptly was dismissed by the lord.
- Absense huh? I know what you priests are like. You are like all men, you and me are branched from the same tree. Give us a glimps of a beautiful virgin and we make damn sure that we are the one to deflower her. And you know what this one will be, don't you?
The priest tried to look unaffected by this but after he had been allowed to read the message that had caused this hasty journey it was a tough job just to keep himself from smiling. But he was a man of god and had to show up a front that at least indicated that he still were one of the glorious ones.
- After all these years of waiting, would you have thought that it would be at a village so close that the embraced one would show herself. Imagine what she can grant us! Ferocious powers and exstatic emotions. Coachman, more speed please!, he shouted out the window.
The lords aide sat silent beside the priest not knowing where to look. He was used to his lords language and expressions but today he seemed possessed by this message of his.

- Coachdriver, why have we slowed to a crawl?, Lord Anon shouted to the driver. You do know we are in a hurry, don't you?
- Yes my liege, I know we are in a hurry. But the road is blocked by a broken wagon.
- Can you not drive beside it?
- I will do my best my liege.

1.6

- You are still Clark, my good man. But you are not in Kansas anymore.
- I have never been to Kansas.
- You miss my point, which is not at all uncommon it seems. You can not go back to where you came from because it does not excist anymore. What you took for granted back in the old days does not excist here, not since the Banes emerged. They changed everything.
The old woman became very silent as if she was recollecting old memories.
- Banes? What is that?, asked Clark
- It is more who are they, but they are now the invisible rulers of this world. They have encased the earth and forced knowledge from the grasp of common man. For hundreds of years they manipulated mankind against itself until there was barely any man left. It had already started long before you were born in a small scale. They started wars in already unstable regions and tried to make these wars grow. The first few times they failed and the conflicts cooled down enough for humans to stop the fights. But for each battle they learnt some more about the human mind. But the human mind is a confusing and complicated place which they couldn't understand so they decided to select a group of people and use them to their own needs. These were collected by the Banes and brought to their lairs. There the humans were configured to do their biddings and sent back to earth. Most of the people handled in this manner never got triggered for their duties, some were activated and caused massive destruction. But a few of these humans broke free from their mental bonds and tried to cleanse their minds fully of the Bane and vowed revenge on them. You were one of the sleepers, one that was about to be activated. The freed ones tried to deactivate you but the Bane started their sequence. The freed ones had only one choice and they took it. They shot you dead.

Clark had to get another warmerupper.
- You say I have been dead? It really was hell?
- No, it was a Bane lair you were in. And the Bane managed to wake you and keep you for years in an induced coma trying to read yout mind of who the freed ones were. Eventually they got through you and sent you down to assassinate the assassinators. It was a job in which you had no control of yourself. You managed to almost wipe out the whole freed ones cell but you were once more shot dead.
- I have died twice?
- So far, yes.
- How do you know all this?
- I have my ways. Anyway, Through miscommunication you were brought back to the lair and kept in storage for a long time before being revived. That was when you had your little hell moment.
- So hell is a alien headquarter?
- Something like that, but it is more to it.
Clark felt as if he was stuck in a bad dream and he pinched himself to wake up.

2.5

Travelling across the landscape during the day moved the group from the disarray of old, abandoned farm houses that they had spent the night around and into a more cultivated part of the land. Small villages surrounded by fields of corn and barley where spread out barely an hours travel distance apart. They met carts with various goods on them, some with bags of grain, some with live stock and some with boxes concealed under large wrappings. The scared mood that the morning had started in slowly were being shifted into a more relaxed and sometimes even enjoyable affair. At times the sun would break through the clouds enough to warm them but the wind was still a touch chilly.

A signpost on the side of the road had wooden arrows pointing into different directions at a crossing. Petrus read the different signs and pointed to the left road.
- This is the way to Banford, we are getting close men!
- I will be happy as soon as we can get rid of these crates, Petrus. They are the bringers of defeat, mark my word. Our numbers have halved since we took this mission.
Petrus couldn't help but to think back on the men they had lost on the open sea and now most recently Job.
- Don't count me out yet.
Petrus and Jonathan, who he was speaking to turned around on their benches and looked back on the crates stacked in the back.
- Did you hear something Jonathan?, Petrus asked
- Yes, and from the look of it you did too.
- I said, don't count me out yet, repeated the voice in a raspy hoarse voice.
Petrus nodded at Jonathan who stretched back towards the voice.
- Get me out from under this damned cover, demanded the voice
Jonathan picked up the head of Job and looked straight at it in horror. The sockets of the eyes in the head had sunk back and in it there now was a slight glow of red. As the head spoke it was no movement of the mouth and except from the eyes everything looked as it should for a dead man.
- Do not go to Banford!, it said, Great danger awaits us all if you do.
Petrus stopped the cart and couldn't believe he was going to do this, but he turned to the head anyway.
- What makes you believe that I will follow the orders of a dead head? Put it in a sack, wrap it up tight and shove it deep under some cloth so we can go on.
Jonathan looked at Petrus unsure of what to do.
- Do it now!, Petrus bellowed
- This is the moment you decide if you live or die Jonathan, the head countered.
As Jonathan still didn't move Petrus took the head from him, shoved it in a sack and pushed it down deep among the other goods in the back.
- And quiet back there! We are delivering these goods no matter what! We have an obligation to do so.
Fuming Petrus ordered the carts to continue their journey towards the final destination. If he had got the right information at the last village they passed it would only be one more night before they would reach Banford.
In the back they could all hear the muffled sounds of the head as if it was trying to scream but they could not hear what it was screaming, not did they care. No one of them wanted to be on the recieving end of Petrus rage.

1.5

- So you call yourself Clark?
- Yes, it is my name so I find it pretty easy to use.
- No need to get smart with my dear friend. I have been here for longer than you can know and had this discussion with more people than you would want to meet in your life. I know when someone tries to get smart with me and I really don't enjoy it that much.
There was a strength in the way the old lady said it that made Clark sit back in his chair and just wait for her next question.
- What is the last thing you remember before waking up on the beach, since I guess that is where you woke up.
- Yes, that was where I woke up. And before that I was at some strange place, I got a weird feeling that it was hell but that must have been the bump on my head.
- Hell you say? No it wasn't hell you saw, though some would say that the place you ended up in is very simular to it.
-Would you mind to help me here? I am getting very confused here and you are just asking me these questions.
- Now now, what did I tell you? Calm down and all I know I will tell you. How did you come to end up in "hell". She said it as if she was mocking Clark.
- I was playing my latest work at a concert when I guess I was assasinated. I am not sure since it is all in a blur as it is now. But that is the best guess I have to what happened back there.
- Did you notice anything strange or unfamiliar just before the assasination?
- No, I don't think so. I was trying my best to concentrate on the music.
- But something distracted you?
- Yes, there was this little girl who had a small parrot in the audience. The bird shouldn't have been there I think. Maybe it is my mind acting up again.
- No I don't think so. The old lady put a hand on his shoulder as to reassure him.
She sat quiet for a minute and then said,
- How old are you?
Clark was taken back by the question.
- I turning 28 soon.
- I see, she said and picked up a mirror from a table by the chair and held it up infront of him. In the mirror he could recognise himself but just, it was a face several years older than 28 that looked back at him. He moved his hands to his face and realised that the small wrinkles and age signs really was his own.
- How can this be? What have happened?
- Ok, this will be a bit hard to understand. Lets start with this piece of information. Have you noticed something in the sky when you have been here?
- No, I don't think so. Nothing that out of place. Clouds, the moon and some airplane trails.
- Those were not airplane trails, they were higher up. But have you noticed how the lands look around here?
- Not really, it was pretty dark when I arrived.
- Of course it was but this little bit of information is vital you never reveal. Never ever ask anyone about the trails in the sky. People here do not notice them, people here cannot understand them. People here have lost all knowledge you possess, the same knowledge I possess. Science has died here and only those that make the trails have it, them and us.
- When am I?, Clark wondered very carefully while his mind was racing with what he had learnt could mean for him and his future.
- And who am I?, he continued.

3.4

She was laying stretched out on the tiled stone floor. It was cold but she did not mind, in fact her mind was far from the locked room. She was soaring among the clouds again. Of all the minds that she had felt the eagle was by far the one she enjoyed the most. The fierce power of the bear and the keen senses of the rabbit had their rewards to but nothing could compare with the flight and freedom of the great bird.

Someone shook her back to the white room again. For the last few days it had just been a sence of waiting, eating and sleeping. Noone came to visit her, not even for gloating of beating. It was incredible boring but on the other hand, she did get a lot of time stretching her senses and learning more from the wayland session that she had started to call them.
She opened her eyes and saw a guard standing above her pointing to a tray beside her. On it was some boiled vegetables, a grilled chicken leg and a cup of beverage. Fairly tasteless but she was used to not having much taste from her upbringing. Besides, she could still feel the taste of fresh kill in her mouth from her latest catch with the eagle. It had been a special treat. She had managed to move between the eagle and a small rodent. She had moved the rodent up on a rock and just in the nick of time switched over to the eagle as it slammed it's claws into the small animal. It had not been as tasty as some of the kills the bear got but it was an interesting experience anyway.
Slowly she chewed her way through the food and then pushed away the tray to lay down again. She closed her eyes and started to slip away towards the bear but suddenly got an idea. No, not the bear right now. How about a trip with a nearly domesticated rat.
She laughed at the thought of it. If not more she could at least get a good laugh from it. Perhaps she could grant herself so much more. Perhaps even the freedom she so longed for.

4.1

Lord Anon looked out over the landscape from his courtrooms large balcony. Below him the city of Marshmountain spread out over a large flat hill beyond which the farmland had been irrigated over the last decades to push the marsh away so far that he could only barely see it at the horizon. He had been a good leader for his people he told himself every time he could. This had led to the blindness for reality that was emerging all around him. There were schemes and plots on how to eliminate him bubbling among his underlings and throughout many of his citizens. Though powerhungry Lord Anon was no fool so he had made sure over the years to surround himself closest with strong allies that would never leave his side and he had built his powerstructure to be able to remove problems almost before there was even a notion of a problem. His three coadjutors was the key to the system, one to keep close control of each caste. Filden held a firm hand over the military, Wiltord over the clericas and Degan had the responsiblity of the lower caste. At times Lord Anon would assist Wiltord who would come under heavy attack from the wise men of the church for protecting what they called a tyrant with no sympathy for the common men. Anon thought fondly of all the times he had been able to sway the opinion around to his favour with carefully selected promises that eventually drained out into smaller promises and finally ended up as basically nothing.

An eagle came in for landing on the rail of the balcony and squaked at Anon. News come fast for the wealthy if they know how to train the messenger, he thought for himself when he undid the strings that held the little container. He opened it and unrolled the note inside. It was a note from his loyal friend at the monestary over in Banford. Carefully he read the tiny letters and his smile began to grow even wider.

- Aide!, he screamed into the courtroom.
- Yes, my liege, a small man answered as he came running.
- Prepare my wagon, we are going on a fieldtrip. Alert the cleric with the biggest hat, he will want to join us.
- Biggest hat, sir?
- Yes, the Supreme Priest, do you not understand a joke boy?
- Of course I do my liege, the young boy answered and laughed a little too much to be believable.
- Well, off with you and do your duty. And send in the dressmaidens.

As the aide ran down the stairs he could hear him shouting to the service maidens to alert the dressmaidens that they were wanted immidiately.
Lord Anon read through the note again and thought to himself, At last it is time, at last she has shown true self.

2.4

Waking up was easy for Petrus this morning. The screaming men around him did a good job with that. Disoriented he sat up and wondered what all the commotion was about. Mere seconds later his eyes found first the head by the fireplace and it's body a few meters away the other way across the room. He immidiatly recognised Job and was awestruck by the whole image. What his eyes come to freeze on was the expression on Jobs face, it was something about the fear in it and the expression of knowledge untold, or in Jobs case, unscreamed.
- We bring the head, leave the body. Quick, gather our belongings, we are leaving now!
His three remaining companions were quick to follow his orders. Dry, hanging clothes were gathered, the fire smothered and the tins and cans collected. Within five minutes they were out the door and setting up the horses to the carts.
- No good can come from this town, Petrus said, only death lives here now. Lets go as the wind.
Only now Petrus realised that the storm had eased, it still did fall a little rain but it was a mere trickle compared to yesterday and in some places in the sky the sun broke through the clouds. Not that Petrus took much joy in this, his mind was firmly set on getting as far as possible between themselves and this town as quick as humanly possible.

In a window on the second floor dark eyes followed the carts as they left the village on the muddy, uneven road. The eyes met with another set of dark eyes that looked back from under the sheeting of the rearmost cart. It's eyes flashed lightly in crimson and faded into the shadows of the darkened window.

1.4

- Welcome welcome. Oh my, you look drenched poor man.
The old woman in the doorway opened up the door some more to let Clark into the cottage. Her clothes look ancient and her face matched their age. A nearly toothless grin peered up at him when he walked onto a thick rug where he removed his shoes and socks.
- Let us get you out of those wet clothes, she said with a voice filled with misplaced youth, I am sure I have some old clothes laying around in a closet somewhere around here, one moment please.
She grabbed a walking stick and walked over to a small cabinet from which she pulled a large towel that she handed to Clark. Then she went into the next room where he could hear her rummaging around accompanied by little ooh's and aah's. After a few minutes he had carefully got out of his soaking clothes and stood wrapped in the towel when she came back with a batch of earthcolored clothes.
- These should fit you well, she said, they belonged to my old husband who died years ago. Bless his corpse.
Something about this old woman felt strange to Clark, she was surely more than ninety years old yet she behaved like she was some kind of giggly schoolgirl.
- Oh you are a shy one aint you, she said to him playfully, Oh alright, I'll turn my back to you so you can change. Which she did slowly and very dramatically as if she was trying to make a point out of not really wanted to turn around.
- Where are my manner, she exclaimed so suddenly Clark almost dropped his towel, I should make you a hot bowl of soup and find you a nice cup of warmerupper.
And with that she walked briskly into another room which he decided had to be the kitchen. From there he heard the banging of metal against metal, there was some sound like water being poured and the opening of a cork. This made Clark feel calmer and he quickly changed into the new, well old, clothes. There was a distinct aroma of years gone by on the clothes which made Clark wonder where he really was.
He walked over to the doorway to the kitchen and asked,
- Excuse me, but could you please tell me where I am?
The woman looked back at him as if confused by the question.
- You are in Donville of course. Noone ever comes here without wanting to end up here. Which way did you come here? Was it from the mountains in the north? No, it couldn't be. It's the wrong hour for that. Perhaps you came from the moors in the east? No, your clothes are much to undamaged for that. You had to have woken up on the beach right?
Stunned Clark looked at the woman,
- How could you know that?
- Everyone has to start from somewhere. Oh, look, the warmerupper is ready. Come join me by the fireplace so I can get to know this new you.

3.3

With her mothers screams echoing in her head she was placed in a chair in an empty room in the monestary. There had been some commotion when she had been brought through the village but the cleric regiment had quickly formed a ring around her as she was being moved. Villager were quick to form their own opinion about what was happening and the general thought seemed to be that she was something to be scared of and someone to heckle.

Alone in the empty room for some time she had time to feel all the emotions around her. It was a very tall room with white plastered walls and a thin churchlike window in each direction. It was round and on one wall between and below two windows a wooden door was closed. Beyond the door she could her some low voices but it was impossible for her to make out anything they said. The sun was shing brightly outside but all she could see of it was the reflection on the opposite wall from the window. A chilly wind blew in through the windows so she knew there was not glass in them but they were too thin to climb through anyway. The sounds from outside had at first been of the crowd that had followed them to the monestaries gate but as time passed people moved on to other businesses and the sound of animals came through stronger. First the birds chirping and the sound of dogs fighting but as time passed more and more animal sounds came to her. She could hear the eagle screeching far away, she could hear bees and wasps flying around. She could even feel the nature around her. The creak of trees bending, the pain from an oak being harrased by a woodpecker, worms wriggling around in the ground just beneath the monestary. This surprised Emelie but as she concentrated she started to feel them more and more. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself being the eagle, to soar free of all chains and obligations. She could feel herself flapping her wings as she performed a wide turn and in the distance she could see the village. She shifted her attention down from the eagle to a black bear who had a fresh kill. She tasted the flesh and felt the energy rushing through her body. In this empty, isolated place she felt stronger than ever before.

2.3

Shadows and light played around from the flames in the fireplace. Faces of torment and disformed bodies seemed to bend and twist their way around the embers and out into the room. Petrus was having a fitful sleep sweating heavily and tearing his head front side to side. Job was laying rolling a bead from his rose bead necklace between his fingers frantically watching the nightmares flicker inside his mind over and over again. Cold shivers slid down his back and gripped into his spine making him try to pull the rags of clothes he wore even closer to his body. He was trying to breath calmly but failing miserably. Tearing his mind from his nightmares he looked at his companions sleeping calmly between him and the fireplace. The warmth spreading from it had caused them to move towards it in their sleep in an attempt to warm up a little more, to scare away the bitter cold that had haunted them all day.

Outside the storm was still going strong and flashes illuminated the windowshapes on the floor in the room with every thunderstrike. Leaves and twigs smashed against the walls making the night a constant rumble of noice and disturbance.

Job never saw what came from behind, he never had a chance to react. The last thing he would ever see was the reflection on the floor infront of him. It was a reflection of the window, but with a slender shape of a man standing infront of it with inhumanly long curving fingers. His throat started an exhale for a scream but before the vocal cords could be engaged his head was bouncing across the floor towards the fireplace and only a hiss rose from his lungs.
Slowly his body fell over in a damp thud with noone else noticing.

Up the stairs a silent creak moved and a soft otherworldly giggle was heard.
Petrus turned over to the other side in his sleep.

1.3

Water flowing back and forth over his legs brought him back to reality. He sighed heavily and wanted to go back to the comfort of darkness. His head still hurt lite hell but not as bad as when he had been awake last, if that could be called to be awake.

When he opened his eyes he realised it must be late evening or early night. The sky was dark except just at the horizon where a thin line of purple crimson was dominant. He was laying on a stony beach where the waves had polished every stone into smooth pebbles. Beyond the beach there was a cliff, maybe four meters high, which transferred into lush hills filled with windbeaten little trees. The tide had to be coming in since now his back was becoming wet as well as his legs.
He walked over to the cliffside with unsure steps. The cliffside was made up of larger rocks stuck in limestone but since he could not see any easy way up he figured he would have to follow the coast until he could find a way up and try to find a road or city or anything where he could get his bearing.

Fifteen minutes later he was walking waisthigh in water and considering taking his chances on climbing up the side. On the other hand he didn't know how big the tide would become, perhaps he could just relax as the tide rose up to the edge of the cliff so he just could step up on it. But he wasn't sure how strong the current of the water would get so he started to try to climb up as fast as he could. On the good side he thought, if I fall I sure won't fall far.
It was an remarkably easy climb he thought after a few minutes of climbing when he sat on the edge of the cliff breathing heavily. Now just to figure out where the hell I am.
He looked around the darkness and saw a brighter edge on one of the hills. There must be some kind of lightsource over there Confident of this he stood up and walked with careful steps over the grassy slope. Breaking a leg now would not be recommended, neither would a hurt hip be welcome so I better watch out for holes in the ground.
Above him him he could sometimes see trails of light zipping in straight lines and from behind a cloud a full moon opened up and gave him a bit more light to see where he was stepping.
Beyond the hill was a small cottage with a grass roof and crosshatched walls. Through the small windows a warm flickering light shone out to him.

3.2

One morning Emelies mother was not by her bed when she woke. Instead there stood a tall dark man in a clerical robe. She recognised him as one of the men that conducted their daily meetings with her and her mother but that he was there very rarely. She recognised him mostly because he gave her glances as if he was undressing her when he thought she would not see. Of course she always saw it as she noticed everything that happened around her at all times but she was careful to never reveal that she knew.
He had that look in his eyes now and didn't bother hiding it, perhaps he had been worried before that someone else would notice his behaviour and there was no worry about that now.

The front door opened and another man walked in with his nose up in the air as if he was inspecting the ceiling expecting it to fall down on him. He stopped in the middle of the room and addressed Emelie without looking at her.
- You are Emelie, daughter of Sofia, are you not?
Before she had the chance to answer he bellowed,
- Are you slow or just disrespectful? Do you find your situation amusing in some ungodly way? Did you find pleasure in your actions and demonlike behaviour? Did you?
Emelie just looked at the man wondering what he was talking about.
- Have you become deaf or are you just a mute imbecil? Tell me now, how can it be that we found your mother in that state? What have you done to her?
- I have only been sleeping all night my lord, she managed to say, mother was awake when I fell asleep and I expected to see her as I always do. As the first thing my eyes see each morning.
The man looked as if he could not believe his ears.
- You mean that you do not know anything? The work of witches is obvious here. See to it that she is not left by herself and take her to the bastion.
The tall, dark man grabbed her arm so it hurt and pulled her out into the bright morning light. Out through the door with the monestary as their goal. At the wall outside the little house she saw a small crowed being held back by clerics. Through the crowd she caught a glimpse of her mother sitting against the wall with a frozen face expression looking out into thin air grabbing around but catching nothing. Suddenly she screamed, devoco devoco!

2.2

With the harbour town disappearing into a haze behind them the storm was increasing in power. The roar of the wind was earshattering and they had to stop to tie down their goods on the wagons. They wrapped a thick sheet over the crates and strung ropes around the wagons several times. As they started to move again they could feel the wheels of the wagons slip back and forth over the narrow, muddy road. The five of them tried to keep as dry as was possible in the infernal weather but within half an hour there was barely a piece of dry clothing left on them.

- We cannot go on like this Petrus!, one of the men screamed in his ear, we need to find shelter and a change of clothing if we are not to freeze to death!
- The harbour master spoke of a village barely six hours by cart following this road, he answered, we will make it there and stop for rest. Perhaps the weather will be gentler for us after that.
The man looked fairly content with this answer and shrugged in the cold.

Five hours later they still could not see the village but Petrus knew they had to be getting close, it was only the weather and the poor condition of the road that slowed them down. He tried his best to keep morale up by singing songs of fair maidens and rivers flowing with wine. Before his inner eye he could feel the warmth of the wine and the touch of the maidens but there was a sadness in knowing that these things were a far way from where he was now.

Beyond a great field they could finally see the rooftops of several houses huddled up together in a shallow valley, barely protected from the strong winds. As they rode closer they realised that all the windows were barred and the whole place had a deserted feel to it. They braked the carts infront of the largest house and opened the door. Unlocked but heavy to open it revealed a dusty interior, dark and cold but at least dry. By the door they found some wood that they lit up in the old fireplace. Slowly a little warmth spread through the room and they could hang their clothes to dry.

As they lay down to sleep for the night noone noticed the creaking that was barely audible coming from the second floor of the building. And slowly but surely one by one fell into a deep sleep.

3.1

Ever since she was a small child her mother had held her very close. She had not been allowed to play with other children and she had not been allowed to go to any school. She knew that other children did go to school since she had seen them leave their houses in the morning and return late at night. She had also heard them talk among themselves about what they did during the days sometimes. But she never had been allowed to listen for any longer times because her mother had pulled her away from the window and given her different jobs to do at home.

Her mother was always awake she thought, every night when she went to sleep her mother looked over her and every morning when she woke up her mother was there to give her tasks. Lately she had noticed her body had started to change rapidly but her mother said it was just a sign from the gods that bigger things were meant for her, that she was special and that she would be loved.

The village that they lived in was laid out among large cornfields over rolling slopes. During summer it was searing hot but most of the year it was very cold with winter bringing heavy snow and hard work to be able to get water from the wells. In the center of the village was a large monestary with a well kept church were everyone seemed to join mass every second day. Everyone that was, except her and her mother. They did get daily visits from the clerics and priests from the church and it was always the same thing. They would arrive, two or three each time, and pray for the two women after which they place a hand on their foreheads and whisper into their ears. It was different words each day but she did not like any of them, sometimes she would ask what they meant but only seldom would she get an answer. Most of the time the priests would only say that it was godly blessings. Every time they said so Emelie believed they lied, but didn't let them know.

1.2

Heavy pounding over the eardrums and a blurry vision of a unlit room welcomed Clark back to consiousness. Without moving his head he tried to look around but even that caused him to get nauseous so he closed his eyes and focused on the sounds. A steady, heavy beat with a thin line of chorus was heard as if from a room down a long corridor. The matress he laid on seemed old and lumpy but he didn't care, all he wanted was for his head to recover.

Someone cleared his throat above him but he kept his eyes closed firmly. Through the eyelids he could see a lightsource moving around infront of him rhythmically. He tried to ignore it by concentrating on listening to the chorus. He thought he could make out a few words in the text but couldn't make any sence of them. Two words seemed to be sung more often than others, devoco and indolentia, and he thought they sounded latin but since that was an unknown language for him he soon gave up on it and decided to open his eyes.

A blurry image of a face appeared infront of him, large and reddish. Intense eyes scrutinized him for what felt like several minutes after which it's mouth opened.
- You are not meant to be here, you should not even be dead. But welcome down here.

2.1

The sea was violent and sickening for Petrus in the morning light as he tried to stear the ship clear of the last few miles of shoreline towards the safe harbour. It had been a truly tiresome night bound to the rudder in a hope to avoid being crushed against the sharp rocks lining all of the irish coastline. The cargo he and his small crew was delivering had to arrive before the night after tomorrow at the monestary in the center of Cork county. The heavy storm that had haunted them all the way from their waystop on the bristish islands had been truly relentless and had during the night finally torn several large rips in the sails. But Petrus figured that it actually might be for the best to let some wind storm through so the ship didn't tip and sink at the brute force of it.

Barely an hour later they managed to get in behind the wavebreakers of the small harbour and lower the remaining strips of sail. Some locals in small rowing boats came out to them and tugged them to the docks. Petrus was directed towards a small house at the center of the docks where he had to pay the tolls and make arrangements for the ship to be repaired during the time he delivered the large crates of goods to it's final destination. On the goods manifest he had been instructed to always them down as farming equipment but he knew this to be a blatant lie, who in his right mind would send farming equipment thousands of miles at great expense.
The harbour master seemed pleased with the arrangement after recieving a few extra coins so the crates could be loaded up on two carts, each with two largeset horses infront. These were no quick horses, but they sure seemed powerful.

Leaving the harbour behind he could se a new storm building up infront of him, up in the mountains.
- This truly must be cursed goods, he whispered to himself careful not to let anyone else hear him.

1.1

Opening Night for the orchestra was supposed to be the excellent opportunity for Clark to get in touch with the audience which he had lost years ago in an attempt to make his music more artistic. Sitting at the grand piano he could feel the hesitation from the crowd wondering if he was once more going to go Kafka on them.

The first few notes proved very hesitant but when the brass and string section kicked in, Clarks fingers started to respond to his vildest desires. The flow of the music seemed to bend the world around Clark and the audience. The cresendo worked flawlessly and the calmer parts of this, his latest, creation was blossoming into the masterpiece he had always wanted to create.

Then the world around him stopped and the sounds he had grown so accostumed to disappeared in a flash. He could feel himself loose touch with his own body and sense that he was falling from the chair. The hardwood floor stopped his movement but he could not feel the impact. Red started too blur his vision and the pounding of his heart became more laboured as darkness started to close around him.

It's been a while

A year and some have passed and I do think that the basic premise for the first little story is a little too much Lost and all that so I will refuel and start writing something else. Hopefully it will be a odd little story full of twists and turns written without ANY thoughts about what the next episode will be about.

I just have to figure out what the basic setting should be like.
Be back with you shortly.