Well, she had thought it would be morning.

This was a strange land; there was no doubt about that. Crécasta had been walking for hours. The sun should have been high in the sky by now. The moon was still hanging there, a distant lantern lighting the expanse of dark sky line. The grass below her feet seemed to thrive in the moonlight. It glittered and shimmered beneath the eerie light.

Finally she arrived at the town. What she found was truly disturbing. It was like a living ghost town, a sort of twisted world almost as though the entire planet was in limb, waiting for its final judgement. The buildings were silent, deathly so. All around pale, starved figures shuffled from one building to the next. They all avoided Créa, not even so much as looking at her.

The buildings themselves were as pale if not paler than their inhabitants. A coat of silvery white was wrapped around the wooden huts. The wood looked like that of a silver birch only somehow less substantial, less real. Créa began to investigate the silent town. It felt as though some omnipotent, oppressive force had the town in its grasp.

The lithe woman walked towards the nearest building, passing her hand over the surface. It felt soft, unimaginably so. It wasn’t wood that was for sure. The closest thing it resembled was spiritual. It felt almost like her guardian spirits, real yet at the same time without substantial existence. It was there, yet it wasn’t. Her hand passed through it, yet it didn’t. It was all a paradox with itself. Perhaps it was the spiritualistic manner of this world that had drawn Crécasta here. Maybe in a land like this she would find a place for her people. She hoped not.

She imagined that this had once been a joyful place. Signs of forgotten toys and abandoned play things could be found everywhere. The spectre like figures seemed to avoid them at all costs.

After a wandering the town for some time, Créa finally plucked up the courage to try and converse with one of the people. She approached one slowly, careful not to frighten it. She couldn’t tell whether it was male or female. The spectre pretended not to notice her.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” Nothing. No answer. She placed her hand on the figure’s shoulder. There was a flash in her mind. Hundreds and thousands of memories flickered through it travelling far too fast to watch. All she caught was a few glimpses. She had seen children, happy and cheerful, parents, grandparents, a beautiful full moon, a horrible floating fortress and lastly a terrible, wretched pair of dark, piercing eyes. Finally, the memories left her, drained, she feel to the floor, unconscious.

__________________


~Fabulous Siggy by Insaney~