The gentle hush of the waves on pale sand, the cry of distant birds, the warm sun on his back. All of it felt like a painted backdrop hiding a stage set with knives.
Alex’s every nerve was still screaming from the drowning, his body fresh with bruises and cuts over old wounds.
Slumped against him was Iris, her breathing a ragged, wet tune. Alive, but barely.
“We… can’t stay here,” she whispered, the words scraping out. She tried to push herself upright and failed, a sharp gasp cutting short the effort.
“I know.” Alex said, his voice low. He scanned the crescent beach again, the imprisoning cliffs. “No path, no cave, just… up”
His gaze settled on the cliff's face. It wasn’t a sheer wall. Time and water had curved shelves and crumbling handholds into the dark grey stone. A brutal, near-vertical climb. For a healthy person, it would be a daunting challenge. For the two of them, it was a suicide note written in stone.
“You can’t,” Iris stated, following his look. It wasn’t an accusation, just a tactical assessment. “Not with that leg. Not with my one arm.” She paused and then continued, her voice wistful and tired. “You go… go look for a path that leads up… the Archives there are at the top”
“I’m not leaving you.” The words left no room for argument. They were the only truth Alex had left.
“You might have to. The Archives…” she paused, “...should be the only thing that matters… leave me Alex. Go… get to them. Get to Lady Elenora.” Her eyes, clouded with pain, were terrifyingly clear. “Go, the archives… Roric said…”
“Roric isn't here!” the snap came out harsher than he intended. He saw her flinch, something tightening around her eyes that had nothing to do with the physical pain. Alex took a shaky breath. “He’s… not. Malach’s not. It's just us and I’m not making another choice like that. Not today.”
The memory of the forest, the turning of his back on the skittering dark, was a fresh brand on his soul. He would not add this to its weight.
He shifted, biting back a groan as he got his good leg under him. “We’ll find a path. Together.”
Iris stared at him for a long moment, her eyes softened around the edges. “… but if anything happens, leave me and get to the Archives…“
“We’ll get there… I am not leaving you behind.” Alex said.
Iris let out a shaky sigh. “First, let's look at that leg.”
She took the edge of her cloak in her hand and gestured for him to take the other. Together, they pulled, tearing a long strip of fabric.
“We can't pull out the stake, you'll bleed out. But we can tie this around it.”
Then the two began searching for a way up. It was slow, agonizing work. They half carried themselves, half dragged each other, slowly making their way to the base of the cliff.
Alex desperately held back groans as his injured leg buckled with every step as they carefully walked along the cliff side, scanning for a path, a cave, anything that would lead them up.
After a sometime of slow painful searching, the two rested against the cool stone, the tide’s chill still clinging to Iris.
“Your sword,” She murmured, nodding to Mnemosyne’s Silence, only... it wasn’t there. Just its sheath strapped across his back. “It’s… gone”
Alex blinked, reaching for his sword. Gone. It was then he realized he hadn’t felt any hum since he woke. His head snapped towards the vast mirror as it reflected the clear sky. A dreadful thought that he understood seeped in. the sword was lost… lost at sea. He felt a sense of longing as if a piece of him had been taken, swallowed by the deep.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
‘It's just a sword’ Alex told himself. A lie he very much knew.
“Alex…” Iris glanced at him, then slowly she shifted her gaze toward the water. “My other blade… I can't find it.”
For a long moment, no one spoke. The loss hung between them, heavier than the ascend ahead.“Let's go,” Iris said slowly. “We can’t stay here,”
The two continued searching, and just as the sun reached its peak, they found it. A scar on the cliff face, a wide, jagged path that zig-zagged upward.
They pressed on, step by agonizing step. Alex bit his lip, he grabbed his bad leg, the pain stark on his face.
“Alex, we should rest,” Iris said.
“No.... we keep going," Alex protested, forcing a smile. “We’ll rest once we get there,”
Pressing on, the path ended. Not at a summit but at a sheer wall. There, bolted into the rock, was a crude wooden platform.
Alex paused studying it.
It was a simple lift, a platform of warped planks suspended by two thick ropes that ran up through rusted iron wheels bolted into the cliff. The thing looked like a rope-pull elevator, with rusted mechanisms.
“There” Iris said, looking up. “… we’re almost there.”
Alex followed her gaze, the sheer size of the wall was impossible. “Let's go,” his gaze settled back to the rope-pull elevator.
It was their only way up.
Alex didn't waste time. He helped Iris onto the platform, her face pale with pain. He gripped the thick, rain-slick rope in both hands and pulled.
The wood screamed. The platform jerked upward a bare inch. He pulled again. Fire ignited in his arms. Another inch.
In that moment of straining agony, Alex remembered the cricking sound of his apartment building's elevator. Sure, it creaked and groaned. Old, tired and sometimes unreliable, but it was an effortless glide compared to this.
‘I am never taking the elevator for granted again.’
The thought was a bitter, useless joke. He pulled again. Sweat slicked his skin. He pulled, and pulled ,and pulled. Each heave was an exercise in heart-pounding, muscle-tearing torment.
“Let… me help,” Iris said, her voice weaker, her face greyer.
“No.” Alex exhaled the word, breathless. “We’re almost there.” Almost was a lie. They were barely halfway. He’d been pulling for an hour, pausing only for ragged, insufficient breaths.
Another hour bled by. Alex had long exceeded his limit. Pulling his own weight was impossible. Pulling them both in their shattered condition was insanity. Yet, somehow, the top was now a real thing, a dark lip of stone just above.
“See…” he panted, the words torn from him. “Almost… there.”
Iris managed a faint, ghost of a smile.
Then, a sound from below shattered the moment.
A slow, grinding scrape.
Alex looked down. He froze.
A creature was on the cliff. Climbing. It moved low, its unnatural body scraping against the stone. Flesh, dark and slick, sagged from a skeletal frame. There was no mistaking it, the thing of rot and shadow. The one Iris had fought.
“No,” Alex whispered, the word a breath of disbelief. “She killed it…”
The abomination climbed with terrifying speed, its narrow head lifted. Rows of thin, needle-like teeth clicked in its gaping mouth. Pale eyes, burning with a cold, merciless intelligence, locked onto them.
“What is it Alex?” Iris said, forcing herself upright.
The creature climbed with a furious speed, injured but relentless.
“Alex,” Iris’ voice snapped him out of his frightened daze.
He pulled harder. The platform rose faster. Not fast enough. The creature closed the gap. Eighty meters. Sixty.
Iris looked at her one remaining blade, then at the drop. The calculation was instant.
“I will take it with me,” She said, her voice thin but final. She began to lever herself toward the edge. “Reach the Archives...”
“Iris, no!” Alex’s hand shot out. His fingers brushed against hers, a fleeting desperate graze of skin on skin and then…
Fragments of a Dreamer
by Glassriver
Read up to Chapter 43
The Arc Finale. Right now. Free.
- Become a free member
- Read Arc 2 finale
- Arc 3 coming soon
Arc 3: The Realms of Dreams ? Coming Soon
Free tier ? Cancel anytime ? No catch