Garden Of The Abyss
Chapter 395 - Frosted Trance
"Are you saying they encountered a monster…?" He asked, feeling his heartbeat begin to climb.
"I'm just saying that something had to come along that made them realize they couldn't just stand around," Jae-Seong affirmed.
It was a possibility he didn't want to accept, but it was the most reasonable explanation for the group marching ahead without them.
Fedrin kept his free hand close to his chin as he nodded to himself, "I see. That would be the most plausible reason, wouldn't it?"
It was sparsely seen through the layers of gray, damp mist that skewed his vision, but he could make out the land that they were introduced to: a gaping cove that seemed to lead into the innards of the mountain walls--thriving with thick, intertwined foliage and flowers--unseemly for the dank realm.
A ceiling of protruded stone from the mountains that enclosed around them loomed over their heads now.
He briefly glanced back at the abandoned dinghies as they gently rocked in the still, black waters before continuing to move ahead with slowness inhabiting his steps.
But it was as they walked along the lengthy, rickety bridge, finally arriving at the end of the dock as their boots met with grass-laden soil, did he come to his own realization.
If something arrived that forced them to run ahead...it wouldn't make much sense. The reason why is because the other two groups likely arrived at different times--so how would a singular entity drive two, separate groups away.
Unless...he thought.
As he came to a stop, looking down as his eyes began to widen with the only outcome of his thoughts coalescing, the others stopped as well, looking back at him.
It seemed the mist grew in intensity further; shrouding the pathway of Fedrin's illumination as they stood alone on the patch of thick, verdant grass.
"Ren?" Jae-Seong called his name, "everything alright?"
With the abyssal rain pattering his silver cape with a repetitive, ominous melody, he looked up with his damp, white fringes hanging over his hazel eyes.
"It has to be because there is something that's guarding this area," he let out.
Such words seemed to spark the guards of his two companions as they immediately tensed up; he drew his broadsword from its sheath, while Fedrin kept his staff held in front of him, and Jae-Seong kept his fists raised into a stance.
"...Is it just me, or did it feel like a presence showed up right when you said that?" Jae-Seong asked as his breath left his lips in a cold mist.
"I can second that," Fedrin added, "there is, without a doubt, something watching us."
They were surrounded by nothing but dense mist that damped the illumination the elf provided; entrapping them in its enigmatic hold.
He turned around, feeling eyes on his back as he trusted his twelve o' clock to his comrades. Though all that he found from the direction they came was the fog-dense dock that possessed an eerie silence.
I feel it everywhere. It's like a million eyes are watching me--from every angle, so intently with a bloodlust, he thought.
"Maybe we should push ahead...try to rendezvous with the others--"
--As he turned around with his words, he found that his two companions weren't at his back any longer, only the shrouding mist.
"Fedrin? Jae-Seong?" He called out.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Against his chest, his heart thudded with a growing intensity as sweat began to escape his anxious pores.
"Fedrin! Jay!" He repeated their names louder.
Silence. All that met his ears was the crunching of the grass beneath his boots as he spun around for any sight of his lost companions, but all he found was a nauseating solitude within the mist.
After running his throat raw from the shouting, he fell silent--now, more than ever, he felt the endless eyes locked onto his body.
His entire body began to quiver as his breaths left in a dense, white mist. Encased in the abrasive mist, his mind began to stray towards survival, birthed from his natural instincts.
It's cold. When did it get so cold? He thought.
He hugged himself, soothing his arms with his hands as he watched his breath mix with the chilly mist surrounding him.
A bright, azure light came from beyond the entrance of the large cave just ahead; the light carried a certain lull that called him forth.
...It looks warm, he thought.
Beginning to hesitantly walk forward across the verdant-laden soil, he naturally moved towards the entrance of the cave that led to the innards of the great mountains.
That's right...of course, they probably went into the cave since it's so cold out here...that makes sense, he thought.
As he trudged forward, the mist grew in intensity, guided by a wind originating from the cave ahead that pushed against his body with a cold that made his fingers and toes grow numb despite them being clad in warm garments.
Each breath left in an icy mist as he maintained his self-embrace, keeping his eyes on the blue light that guided him forward.
"Loneliness," it was an inexplicable sense of this concept that ingrained itself into his body as the mist so fervently drowned him in this solitude. The harsh coldness grew as his desperation intensified; wanting to seek out his lost companions.
It began to shift from a desire to make sure they were safe, to a child's own reliance--desperately seeking his companions as he now felt stranded and afraid in the endless mist.
Finally reaching the entrance to the vast cave, he let out a breath of white, cold air before stepping into the rocky domain, laden with nature that seeped through the cracks of the stone environment.
It was close now; the azure light that was a beacon in the dense mist sat only a few more steps ahead.
There it is, he thought.
Though even those few steps became a struggle that he hadn't quite realized; his limbs were encumbered by the biting frost, each step forcing him to muster all of his body's strength.
At last, he found the source of the light: a large, bulbous flower with white petals that surrounded the glowing, azure pistil in the center.
As the petals fluttered, giving off a cold air surpassing any he felt up until this point, he surmised it was the origin of the unmistakable cold. Being so enveloped in the overwhelming cold as his teeth chattered violently, there was nothing more he wanted than to end it--feeling his entire body run over with an itch that seemed to lay under his own skin.
Gripping the handle of his sword tightly, he lifted the blade above his head with the intention of stabbing the gargantuan, mist-inducing flower.
....I'll end this cold, then find them, he thought.
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