Chapter Sixteen

That night, Cierra cried herself to sleep. When she opened her eyes, Cid was sitting next to her, and they were both somewhere new. All around them was the stench of something rotten, as though meat was rotting somewhere nearby and had been for weeks. There was no light around them, the sky an inky blot except where an outline of what Cierra assumed was a sun tried to shine through. The circular edge glowed white, reminding her of images she had seen of an eclipse online.

The ground itself was uneven, the terrain covered in rocks as big as Cierra's feet. Trying to look around them, she found that parts of the ground were suspiciously flat. Cautiously, she place a foot on one such spot, testing the ground. She pulled her foot back as it sunk into the ground.

Her heart raced; was this another realm being taken over by nightmares?

She tried to remember what she had been thinking of before she fell asleep; all she could

recall were thoughts about her parents and wanting answers.

Was this a place that held answers? But to which questions?

Cid wrapped around her legs, doing a figure eight while rubbing his head against her. She reached down and patted him on the head.

"You're right. We'll be fine, we've done this once before." She sounded braver than she felt. She had never been a fan of darkness and what could hide in it.

Taking a deep breath, and then immediately regretting, she pushed forward. If this was anything like what happened in the Skogkatt's realm, all she needed to do was go wherever was most rotted and decrepit. That's where whatever was causing this pervasive darkness would be residing.

She paused. Did that mean that she would be encountering another Menace, Bringer of Nightmares? She shuddered at the thought.

What could she do against him this time? It wasn't as if she had grown in power over the last few weeks. All she knew she could do was restore herself, others, and small parts of the environment to their original condition. It wasn't a useless power, but it wasn't necessarily the most useful either.

She looked around her, trying to imagine what this place had looked like before the mud, and death of whatever lived here. In her mind she was picturing what she remembered of Greece. The rocky landscape recalling a geography lesson from middle school about how Greece was unable to grow much more than olive trees due to its terrain. She closed her eyes, trying to feel sunlight on her skin and how the grass would grow in short tufts on dark soil, sticking out between rocks giving way to pebbles.

She held the image in her mind and opened her eyes. Around her nothing had changed. She thought maybe she felt the ground get a bit more solid under her feet, but nothing else changed. The rocks still gave way to mud puddles and there were no plants to speak of.

It was going to be a hard journey.

As Cierra trudged onwards, Cid at her side, she noticed sounds, almost like wind blowing through leaves. Her skin goose bumped up her arms and neck; there were no trees, let alone leaves for the wind to be blowing through.

In the distance, shadows moved, playing tricks on her eyes. It looked as though something, or many some things, were moving around them, just out of sight.

Cierra tried her best to keep calm. She wished now that her powers allowed them to blend into the blackness around them, to make them both unseen. Then again, Cierra thought, she had been told multiple times now that she shined.

It was probably pointless to try and hide.

Something moved in the distance and Cid growled low, positioning his body closer to the ground, legs crouching.

Out of the gloom stepped a shadow, a skeleton clothed in armor, chainmail hanging off shoulders no longer round with the flesh needed to support it.

"You…" the word seemed to take time to form. Cierra was surprised to hear the voice sounded female. The skeletal woman kept her voice low, "You do not belong here."

Cierra took a step back, heart pounding in her throat.

As she stepped, more women, clothing rotting off them, stepped forward. Some held maces or spears, other held no weapons but sported medieval style helmets or ragged cloaks still wrapped around their shoulders and necks.

Before she could move further, she was seized.

As she was struggling against the bones pushing into her wrists and shoulders, Cid attacked.

He tore at the nearest skeleton, his jaw connecting with its spear as the skeleton blocked. Cierra, still being held, felt a sharp foot hit her knees, and she crashed to the ground.

"Ugh," She cried out, her knees aching. All around the skeletons were closing in. Already they had Cid surrounded, weapons drawn at him from every angle. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine her and Cid just a few minutes before, in the darkness walking together before the skeletons arrived. Her head felt like it was splitting open, and all around her a white light glowed so bright she could see it through her eyelids.

Then the pressure from the skeletons hold holding her was gone. She opened her eyes, her and Cid were standing where they had been just a few moments before the skeletons had surrounded them.

They had escaped, but for the first time, Cierra felt out of breath. She gasped for air, trying her best to stay on her feet. All around her it looked as though the world was spinning.

She knew they had to move, to double back, to do something to get away from the skeletal women, but her body failed her. Already she could see the shapes moving towards them in the darkness.

She held out a hand, legs swaying a bit under her, "Stop," her voiced sounded ragged, "Just stop."

To her surprise, the skeletons did stop. The woman in the lose chainmail stepped forward.

"We do not mean you harm," she said, words slow, "You cannot be here, you can be easily seen, even in the dark."

Cid growled, pushing himself against Cierra's legs, giving her the support she needed to keep standing.

"Who are you?," Cierra demanded, "Why are you here? Are you with the Bringer of Nightmares?"

There was a whisper of outcry from the skeletons.

"How dare you—"

"We would never—"

"As if we are so weak—"

"We are the women of Fólkvangr," one of the women cried, louder than the rest, "Those protected by the war-goddess Freya herself."

The skeletons raised their weapons to the sky in silent tribute.

"Did you say…," Cierra could barely believe her ears, "Freya? You know Freya?"

There was a brief silence.

"Yes," It was the chainmail skeleton from before, "We all know Freya."

"Can you bring me to her?" Cierra asked, her exhaustion all but forgotten in her excitement.

The skeletons seemed to hesitate.

"Why do you wish to meet Freya?" The question came from one of the skeletons, but Cierra could feel their would-be eyes on her, as though the question came from all of them.

"I've come for one of Freya's tears." Cierra told the truth; it wasn't like lying would get her anywhere.

It was disconcerting to watch the skeletons move, bones all turning to look at each other.

"We cannot take you to her," the skeletons nodded in unison, "But we can take you to her tears."

"Is there more than one?" Cierra had thought Freya's tears were scattered around many places, not held in one area, "Did you gather them?"

Again the skeletons were silent.

Under their feet the ground shook. Cierra felt the hair on her neck stand up.

"It is time," Smooth, as though they were a collective, the skeletons turned in the direction Cierra had been walking before. A high-pitched scream pierced the air. "You will not have long, but we will protect you."

Before Cierra could protest, they were marching forward, two rows of seven skeletons.

"We have not seen a skogkatt or a divine apostle in what feels like eons." Cierra walked close to the woman in chainmail.

"What's a divine apostle?" Cierra asked, trying her best not to trip over any rocks.

"Someone chosen by a god or goddess. A messenger, a conveyer of divine will." The skeleton explained as if it were obvious.

Cierra stopped, grabbing the skeleton's shoulder, "Are you saying I was chosen by the gods?"

"A god. Or goddess." The skeleton paused, "Do you remember the divine messenger who gave you your power? They usually give you a name, but" The skeleton lowered her voice, "I have heard sometimes they prefer to play games and have you guess. The shape of the messenger can supposedly offer some clues though."

Cierra gave her a confused look, eyebrows stitching together. "What messenger? What power?"

It was the skeleton's turn to pause, "The person who told you your power and gave you your purpose?"