Читать книгу Meraud - Robyne HypGothic - Страница 2

There was a swirling fog that arched and wove through the dark night, snaking into the mouth of a large, dark cave. Deep within the cave there were noises. Unearthly voices, whispers of the ghostly night, sounds of movement and activity echoing around the cave and spilling out from the mouth. At the front of the cave ornate carvings were scored deeply into the stone mouth in a mysterious language.

Deep inside of the cave, the Portents lounged upon chairs, cushions, rock ledges, all in various stages of repose, waiting, whilst Death sat silently on his throne. There were but sixteen Portents in all of eternity; nine being male and the other seven females. To the eye, the Portents looked exactly like humans but they were, in fact immortals.

Meraud and Fearghas were playing a game of chess, whilst the other Portents amused themselves with other distractions. Meraud enjoyed playing chess against Fearghas for two reasons, firstly, because he took it so seriously and secondly because he challenged her. There was though, a third reason which she could not admit to herself, so it went, on the whole, unacknowledged. This third reason was that it was a way of monopolizing his time and for some reason she could not understand, she needed to spend as much time in his company as possible. Meraud admired and respected Fearghas more than anyone else she had ever known. She spent many hours with him asking questions about the lore of Portents just so that she could be in his company and hear his voice.

Fearghas seemed to Meraud to be as intense and serious, as she was emotional and erratic, although there was a wildness that seemed to threaten to break loose from him at odd occasions. That was thankfully kept in check. She usually felt slightly naïve and self-conscious when in his company so as a consequence, she generally would listen rather than speak with him. Meraud felt that she could not ask Fearghas anything personal and had to content herself asking questions regarding Portent duties so consequently, she knew very little about him. Meraud supposed Fearghas was insular because he was one of the Portents who had no siblings.

The oldest Portent was Kensa, one of Meraud's sisters and there were four other Portents older than Fearghas. Regardless of this, Fearghas always seemed to take the lead and all of the Portents deferred to him and always respected his opinion. Meraud, herself was the youngest of them and she was certainly the most chaotic, untried and with the most to learn. In some respects, Meraud was still protected by her elder sisters and the other Portents.

Within the cave, surrounding the communal space, the Portents all had their own quarters. They could stay there for privacy if they ever needed, between duties. Sometimes when Meraud was alone in her room, her thoughts drifted to Fearghas and she would try to imagine what he was doing. At times, he entered her dreams and she would wake, embarrassed and flustered. She would not be able to look Fearghas in the eye the next day when this would happen. The life of being a Portent was difficult enough Meraud was learning, without having other complications added.

Portents were the immortals whose purpose was to serve Death. They would be drawn to the site of impending disasters; called Wounds Upon Time. They would spend their time going to and from the Time Wound site gathering all of the names of the mortals who would have been marked by Death as destined to die at the impending disaster. They would slowly and methodically, record all of the names which made up the entire Wound Upon Time.

Once a mortal was listed there would be no avoiding that they would in some way fall victim to the tragedy. Portents would have to seek out each marked mortal because it was rare that they would be located at the site of impending disaster until the Time Wound was to happen. Sometimes it was difficult work to trace them.

Death shifted position on his throne. One half of Death's face was white with the other half black and in his hand, he held a long walking stick with an opaque crystal ball on top. Death's dark fingers were long and spidery. There was a refinement about him; a nobility. Death waited as fine threads of a web were forming, weaving over the ball. It was a painfully slow process but it had the full attention of Death. His dark eyes were fixed intently on the process. His regal features were fixed and still.

Before Death was a large ornate wooden table carved with mysterious patterns. In the middle of the table was an indented circle which looked rather like roulette. There were many coloured, small balls placed around the outside of the circle but all was still. In front of Death and to his right were two rows of seats of carved out stone. Sitting upon the stone seats were the Reapers. They were cloaked figures with skeletal hands and faces. There were fifty seats in total but only thirty-three were occupied by Reapers who waited for their next task to be assigned.

The Reapers would personally attend to individuals and small scale Wounds and called upon the marked mortals in person. The Reapers never attend to the numerous deaths that would come from the large Wounds Upon Time as this was the function of a Portent. Once Portents collected names, they were handed to Death. What followed was as always,that the marked must then travel toward Death, en masse, finding their own way with the momentum of the Wound Upon Time. Death would await their arrival. The job of the Reapers, on the other hand, was to escort the individuals along with them, on their journey to meet Death.

Suddenly and with a dramatic gesture, Death pulled the web which had now fully formed, from the ball and flung it into the air. Once airborne, the web grew in size bigger and bigger. Death yelled out loudly, his big voice booming through the cave, "Crash, bending metal." The web took on a life of its own and it rose further upward floating eerily toward the top of the cave.

The first Portent to rise was Fearghas, always eager to be active. Meraud seemed to unconsciously follow his lead and she moved to stand near him. She too seemed to be impatient but her impatience was more about knowing and learning. She was impatient to know everything. Slowly, one by one the rest calmly followed until they had all risen from their repose to gather around Death.

"Leave now Portents, go to the wreck. Bring them to me." Death commanded ominously.

The purpose of the Portent was as endless as they were immortal. One by one the Portents began to fade away until they had all transported themselves to the site and only Death and the remaining Reapers were left behind.