In the Dark

She jolted awake. The feeling of a nightmare clinging to her skin, her mind feeling heavy. The air was stale, like a long unused room. Planting her hands against the cold floor, she pushed herself up, sitting hunched over her knees as she looked around. Her throat was dry and her breaths came quick and sharp as her eyes strained against the dark, but there was no light. There was nothing. When she reached out a tentative hand, there was nothing but the smooth surface beneath her.

Anara tried to remember what had happened leading up to her waking, but the more she did, the more her mind stalled. She winced, pushing herself up to her feet, hoping she might see something in the distance. Her heart didn't settle. It was strange, she didn't feel as though she was in a room. As dry and still as the air around her was, as much as she could not see, it didn't feel like there were any walls surrounding her. When she took a step, she heard the flat of her foot hit against solid ground.

"Hello?" Anara called out, though at the sound of her voice she lifted a hand, fingers touching against her lips. She'd spoken louder than she had meant to. Or was it just that her voice seemed to echo? "Is anyone there?" She spoke again, quieter. She wouldn’t say she was necessarily scared of the dark, but it was disconcerting, feeling as though her eyes were still shut, no matter how many times she blinked. Anara took careful steps forward, but there was nothing except coldness that pressed back against the soles of her feet.

In the distance the sound of bells reached her, growing closer with each metallic jingle. Anara stopped, desperately searching for the source. Her back tensed as she focused all her attention. The bells echoed, a point of focus, constant, but rhythmic, as they rang. Suddenly there was a presence with her, she was no longer on her own, and each peal of bells came towards her in waves of music, bringing someone with them. She could hear the rush of blood behind her ears, her heart beat hammering against her chest - a strict contrast to the calming chime. It was hard to guess how long she stood there, but eventually she saw the direction the bells came from. Anara looked over her shoulder. A striking, electric green light broke the solid darkness in rippling pools that grew larger and brighter with each chime of bells. Narrowing her eyes, Anara made out a shadowy figure drawing nearer.

"Hello?" She found herself repeating, squinting as she looked down to follow the trail left behind them. With each step they took, a new pool of green rippled out from around each foot. Although the puddles didn't stay for long, gradually melting and seeping back into shadow.

"Can you help me?" She spoke again, watching the figure approach. "I’m lost."

The figure didn't seem to notice her as they walked past. Each slow, lumbering step was accompanied by the same chiming as before. Her heart skipping, Anara shook herself and rushed to go after them. They were tall and cloaked in heavy, dark material and if it wasn't for the faint glow that seemed to outline them, they would have been as pitch dark as the rest of her surroundings. Anara reached out a hand to grab the cloak as it billowed out behind the figure, but her fingers never made contact.

The figure stopped. Turning their head, they finally looked down at Anara. She froze. Their face was long and snout-like. Horns spiralled from the top of their head and a soft, dull golden glow could be seen looking directly at her.

"Please," she spoke softly, looking up into the eyes of the figure. "I don't know where I am."

For a moment the two of them stood in silence. Anara felt frustration coiling in her stomach as the pressure of it rang in her ears, but she waited. The figure turned their head back to face the direction they had been moving, indicating for Anara to follow. She fell directly behind the figure, following the pools of light left in their wake.

The air grew colder. A sharp sting making Anara hunch her back and lean into her arms as she folded them across her chest. Before long, something was dropped over her head. Scrabbling to drag the material down over her shoulders, she looked up at the figure in bewilderment. They looked down at her as they walked, the torn edge of their cloak drifting back into place by their side. Anara hadn't heard anything, but either way she was grateful for the warmth that came as she clung tightly to her makeshift cloak.

The further they went, the more her feet sank into the ground. Cold blackness swallowed them, and eventually she realised she was wading through snow. If she hadn't been afraid of losing sight of the figure, she might have stopped to touch the ground and examine it with her fingers.

Just as her feet had started to grow painful, the figure finally stopped. Anara peaked from behind their back. A hand appeared from under the figure’s cloak, gently pressing against something solid, Anara had to shield her eyes as warmth escaped from the space before her.

It was completely different to the 'outside'. Anara stood dumbfounded. There was a soft orange glow illuminating the room from a lamp hanging in one corner to the back. Stepping closer and through the door's arch, she looked around. There was a bed off to the right, a short-furred blanket laying over an old mattress, and a bookcase not two feet by its side. Anara had moved from a space void of anything, to a small enclosed area of orange and pages covered in scribblings, and worn out books, a table, chair, and shelves lining walls, decorated with ornaments, and tools hanging from hooks. The figure moved behind Anara, shutting the door. With each breath she smelt wood and smoke.

Anara opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when the figure went to the bed, removing the heavy cloak from around their shoulders. What had appeared to be a bulky figure, was actually tall, slender and feminine. Pouches hung from her waist and a bag was thrown over her shoulder. She removed each in turn, long, dark hair falling from under the mask that Anara had previously thought of as the woman’s face. Anara’s curiosity had hoped to see her face revealed, but the mask was never removed.

Tapping her fingers against the side of her leg, Anara looked around the room, keeping watch of the woman’s movements in her peripheral vision. When she bent down and dragged a box from under the bed, Anara's focus turned fully to the thin, white fingers that dug around between wood and feathers and metal. With every movement she made, the bells rang. It was a soft, pleasant sound, and Anara now saw the noise came from wooden bead bracelets around the woman’s wrists and ankles, small bells hanging between the beads at even intervals.

"What are you looking for?" Anara finally asked, taking a step closer and lifting herself slightly onto the balls of her feet. It mostly looked like junk in the box.

Reaching the bottom of the box, the woman pulled out a mask similar to the one she wore. It was smaller and had a nose piece shaped like the beak of a bird, rather than a horned lizard.

Still unsure, Anara stepped back as the woman turned and approached her. She looked at it blankly as the mask was held out to her. It was clear that the woman wanted her to take it, so after a moment, she did. She looked it over, cautious fingers brushing over the painted lines that ran along the cheeks of the mask. Turning it over, the inside was cracked old, dry wood, with narrow strips of leather tied to either side. She looked up at the woman for a moment, only moving to put it on when she nodded for her to continue.

Anara looked down at her feet, focusing on her pink toes as she tied the leather straps together in a tight bow. It was strange. When she looked through the wide-slit eyes she was disappointed, as if something should have happened. But when she looked back to that golden gaze, everything looked the same.

"What's with the masks?" she asked. Another question to which she expected no answer. In this, she wasn't disappointed. The figure seemed to nod before turning around, once again grabbing her cloak and bag. She fixed them about herself, reaching for two twisted, knobbled staffs from the wall and heading past Anara to the door. It was only as one was handed to her, that Anara realised they were scythes, a large, swooping blade protruding from the top on the wood. She turned back to the door, just as Anara grabbed the handle.

"Why would I need this?" Anara asked, taking it from her hands. Silence. The door creaked open, and Anara’s head spun.

“Am I dead?” She didn’t know where the question came from, but as she spoke the words, it felt right. The darkness, the cold, the strange woman and the scythes. It was out of old fairy tales. The woman opened the door, but she didn’t walk out into the darkness.

“In a sense.” She finally spoke. Briefly glancing at Anara. For a moment, Anara thought she saw pity in the woman’s eyes. She turned back, however, before Anara could ask for anything more. And as she followed the woman out of the door, she realised that it was a void. She could see a monochromatic wasteland sprawling out before her. Anara hovered in the doorway.

“You’ll find no answers standing there.” The woman said. Walking only a few paces ahead, before turning back.

“And I’ll find them out there?” Anara asked. A cold wash of fear spreading over her body.

“Perhaps.”

Anara inhaled a deep breath, taking a large step forwards as she exhaled. The door closed behind her, and she walked to meet the woman’s side. “Where are we going?” Anara asked.

“To find the light.”