Post by ladytera on Aug 7, 2008 10:36:08 GMT -5
Excerpt;:
Lt. Sterling felt a tremendous pull trying to drag him after Logan into the mists. He grabbed onto a nearby body, hoping that the weight would anchor him. He looked away from Logan and stared into the lifeless eyes of the body he was using as an anchor. The gray bearded veteran with the set jaw looked as determined in death as he had in life. Movement caught his eye and he turned his head back toward were Logan had been.
Horror gripped Sterling as he looked back toward the fog and light. He saw huge shadows flashing deep in the mists, spouting what looked like flames in front of them. His heart nearly stopped when the mists cleared for a moment and he glimpsed a huge, red, reptilian head with malevolent yellow-green eyes looking straight at him. The creature’s powerful wings stroked downward, its long neck and body arrowing toward him. A scream of pure terror tore from Sterling’s throat at the same time another shell exploded nearby. The concussion knocked him sideways, breaking him free of the force that had been trying to drag him away. He fell heavily to the ground, jarring a wound in his hip. His last conscious thoughts were that the mist and light were gone, along with Logan. As the pain from his wounds darkened the world around him, his prayer was to have the chance to repent of whatever sins had destined him for the hell he had so narrowly escaped.
***
Logan awoke with a crushing pain in his chest and a steady roar in his ears. His eyes drifted slowly back into focus, but the scene before him did little to ease his sense of disorientation. He seemed to be lying on rough rocks, in darkness. There was an opening in what his brain told him must be the rock wall of a cave about ten feet to his left. He could see the edges of what looked to be huge gouts of flame flashing outside.
He’d been hit in the battle at Ft. Fisher. There had been gunfire, large and small, coming in all around them. The last thing he remembered was Sterling moving to douse the fuse of the second round shell to land between them. He listened carefully and watched through the opening, trying to determine where he was and how he’d come to be there. The sounds making his head pound dissolved into overlapping roars that seemed to accompany the fiery blasts. He didn’t recognize it as any Reb weapon he’d ever heard of and it surely wasn’t part of the Union arsenal. Maybe a ships boiler exploding?
He tried to sit up, thinking to move closer to the opening for a better view. The motion caused a gasp and moan when the pain in his chest nearly sent him back into oblivion.
“You might want to lay still and be quiet,” a masculine voice lilted softly out of the darkness at his right.
Logan turned his head, squinting his eyes, trying to force them to adjust to the darkness behind him. “Who’s there?”
“Someone who doesn’t care to be barbecued. Their hearing is only surpassed by their eyesight. So, kindly sit still and be silent.”
Logan bit back a sharp retort as two things happened simultaneously. A shadow fell across the front of the cave, blocking all light. In the darkness, a pair of glowing yellow-green eyes stared back at him, unblinking. Logan’s words, and the anger behind them lodged in his throat, trapped by the overwhelming terror. The strong, sudden wind at his back forced him to tear his eyes away and look back toward the entrance. His mind finally gave up its fight against physical and mental shock as he saw a huge wing tip followed by a monstrous, serpentine tail fly by. Blackness overcame his mind.
“Come on, my friend in blue. Come back to yourself.”
Logan felt fingers lightly tapping his cheek and struggled to open his eyes. It was strangely quiet, aside from the melodious voice he didn’t recognize speaking to him. His eyelids finally obeyed his brain and lifted, but it took a moment for his fuzzy vision to clear. It didn’t help much when it did. He saw a strange man kneeling on the floor of a cave next to him. Trouble was, he had been certain the cave was part of a dream brought on by shock. The man had a light, almost glowing complexion, long silver hair, and light green eyes. There was something disturbing about his appearance. His arms and fingers seemed a little too long and thin. His face seemed elongated slightly as well, and the angles of his bones were sharper than they should have been.
“Don’t try to move. You were damaged in the place you were before. Belladine is on her way.”
It was then that Logan again became aware of the pain in his chest. He noticed too, that his vision had not entirely cleared. The sight in his left eye was still blurred and it was getting a pink tinge to it. “Where am I? And who are you?”
“I am Brand,” the tall man’s bow looked elegant, even executed from his knees on a hard stone floor. “Welcome to The Mists. Sorry I can’t make you more comfortable, but I already moved you more than I should have getting you up here from the beach.”
“How did I get here? What happened?” His glance slid past the man to the entrance. The sky outside was clear, but the color was wrong. It was as though there were a tint of pink mixed with a brighter shade of blue than the sky should be. It hurt his head to look at it too long. “What was that thing I saw?”
“Belladine will be able to answer most of those questions better. I’d guess from your uniform that you were in a battle. This place feeds on chaos and violence. You were unlucky enough to get sucked in. I happened to be on the beach when you came through and landed unceremoniously in my lap.”
Logan looked at him blankly, his mind unable to comprehend the concept being presented. Brand waited a beat, gauging the response. He didn’t want the man passing out again.
“I figured the opening would draw some attention, so I carried you to one of the caves. As it happens, it was a good thing I did. The dragons and their masters arrived shortly after, and got a little miffed when they didn’t find anything. Two of the masters decided to discuss it with dragon fire.”
Logan closed his eyes, trying to shake himself out of what he knew must be a waking nightmare. His hand brushed against the leather holster and he forced himself to think. Was his pistol still in there? Or had he lost it, he could not remember.
“You should probably stay awake until Belladine has a look at you.”
“Who is this Belladine you keep talking about?” Logan asked, keeping his eyes closed. It helped maintain the illusion that it was all a bad dream. His finger now touched the cold back strap of the colt pistol still in its holster. It was still there.
“She and her twin, Celeste, are the leaders of the rebels here in The Mists.”
Logan let out a near hysterical laugh. Not only was he hallucinating, but even his dreams put him in the hands of the Rebs. He wondered when the traitors had started putting women in charge of their forces. No wonder they were losing the war. As his tired mind drifted, he wrapped his fingers around the locket at his neck and prayed he’d see Matilda again. What had happened to the rest of the sailors on the beach? Where was James Sterling? Logan knew that if Sterling was still breathing, he’d try to find him. Maybe rescue wasn’t out of the question, if they realized he wasn’t among the dead on the beach. And if anyone else had survived the rush.
...
Lt. Sterling felt a tremendous pull trying to drag him after Logan into the mists. He grabbed onto a nearby body, hoping that the weight would anchor him. He looked away from Logan and stared into the lifeless eyes of the body he was using as an anchor. The gray bearded veteran with the set jaw looked as determined in death as he had in life. Movement caught his eye and he turned his head back toward were Logan had been.
Horror gripped Sterling as he looked back toward the fog and light. He saw huge shadows flashing deep in the mists, spouting what looked like flames in front of them. His heart nearly stopped when the mists cleared for a moment and he glimpsed a huge, red, reptilian head with malevolent yellow-green eyes looking straight at him. The creature’s powerful wings stroked downward, its long neck and body arrowing toward him. A scream of pure terror tore from Sterling’s throat at the same time another shell exploded nearby. The concussion knocked him sideways, breaking him free of the force that had been trying to drag him away. He fell heavily to the ground, jarring a wound in his hip. His last conscious thoughts were that the mist and light were gone, along with Logan. As the pain from his wounds darkened the world around him, his prayer was to have the chance to repent of whatever sins had destined him for the hell he had so narrowly escaped.
***
Logan awoke with a crushing pain in his chest and a steady roar in his ears. His eyes drifted slowly back into focus, but the scene before him did little to ease his sense of disorientation. He seemed to be lying on rough rocks, in darkness. There was an opening in what his brain told him must be the rock wall of a cave about ten feet to his left. He could see the edges of what looked to be huge gouts of flame flashing outside.
He’d been hit in the battle at Ft. Fisher. There had been gunfire, large and small, coming in all around them. The last thing he remembered was Sterling moving to douse the fuse of the second round shell to land between them. He listened carefully and watched through the opening, trying to determine where he was and how he’d come to be there. The sounds making his head pound dissolved into overlapping roars that seemed to accompany the fiery blasts. He didn’t recognize it as any Reb weapon he’d ever heard of and it surely wasn’t part of the Union arsenal. Maybe a ships boiler exploding?
He tried to sit up, thinking to move closer to the opening for a better view. The motion caused a gasp and moan when the pain in his chest nearly sent him back into oblivion.
“You might want to lay still and be quiet,” a masculine voice lilted softly out of the darkness at his right.
Logan turned his head, squinting his eyes, trying to force them to adjust to the darkness behind him. “Who’s there?”
“Someone who doesn’t care to be barbecued. Their hearing is only surpassed by their eyesight. So, kindly sit still and be silent.”
Logan bit back a sharp retort as two things happened simultaneously. A shadow fell across the front of the cave, blocking all light. In the darkness, a pair of glowing yellow-green eyes stared back at him, unblinking. Logan’s words, and the anger behind them lodged in his throat, trapped by the overwhelming terror. The strong, sudden wind at his back forced him to tear his eyes away and look back toward the entrance. His mind finally gave up its fight against physical and mental shock as he saw a huge wing tip followed by a monstrous, serpentine tail fly by. Blackness overcame his mind.
“Come on, my friend in blue. Come back to yourself.”
Logan felt fingers lightly tapping his cheek and struggled to open his eyes. It was strangely quiet, aside from the melodious voice he didn’t recognize speaking to him. His eyelids finally obeyed his brain and lifted, but it took a moment for his fuzzy vision to clear. It didn’t help much when it did. He saw a strange man kneeling on the floor of a cave next to him. Trouble was, he had been certain the cave was part of a dream brought on by shock. The man had a light, almost glowing complexion, long silver hair, and light green eyes. There was something disturbing about his appearance. His arms and fingers seemed a little too long and thin. His face seemed elongated slightly as well, and the angles of his bones were sharper than they should have been.
“Don’t try to move. You were damaged in the place you were before. Belladine is on her way.”
It was then that Logan again became aware of the pain in his chest. He noticed too, that his vision had not entirely cleared. The sight in his left eye was still blurred and it was getting a pink tinge to it. “Where am I? And who are you?”
“I am Brand,” the tall man’s bow looked elegant, even executed from his knees on a hard stone floor. “Welcome to The Mists. Sorry I can’t make you more comfortable, but I already moved you more than I should have getting you up here from the beach.”
“How did I get here? What happened?” His glance slid past the man to the entrance. The sky outside was clear, but the color was wrong. It was as though there were a tint of pink mixed with a brighter shade of blue than the sky should be. It hurt his head to look at it too long. “What was that thing I saw?”
“Belladine will be able to answer most of those questions better. I’d guess from your uniform that you were in a battle. This place feeds on chaos and violence. You were unlucky enough to get sucked in. I happened to be on the beach when you came through and landed unceremoniously in my lap.”
Logan looked at him blankly, his mind unable to comprehend the concept being presented. Brand waited a beat, gauging the response. He didn’t want the man passing out again.
“I figured the opening would draw some attention, so I carried you to one of the caves. As it happens, it was a good thing I did. The dragons and their masters arrived shortly after, and got a little miffed when they didn’t find anything. Two of the masters decided to discuss it with dragon fire.”
Logan closed his eyes, trying to shake himself out of what he knew must be a waking nightmare. His hand brushed against the leather holster and he forced himself to think. Was his pistol still in there? Or had he lost it, he could not remember.
“You should probably stay awake until Belladine has a look at you.”
“Who is this Belladine you keep talking about?” Logan asked, keeping his eyes closed. It helped maintain the illusion that it was all a bad dream. His finger now touched the cold back strap of the colt pistol still in its holster. It was still there.
“She and her twin, Celeste, are the leaders of the rebels here in The Mists.”
Logan let out a near hysterical laugh. Not only was he hallucinating, but even his dreams put him in the hands of the Rebs. He wondered when the traitors had started putting women in charge of their forces. No wonder they were losing the war. As his tired mind drifted, he wrapped his fingers around the locket at his neck and prayed he’d see Matilda again. What had happened to the rest of the sailors on the beach? Where was James Sterling? Logan knew that if Sterling was still breathing, he’d try to find him. Maybe rescue wasn’t out of the question, if they realized he wasn’t among the dead on the beach. And if anyone else had survived the rush.
...
