"I will see."
This time it isn’t Missy’s voice that awakens him, instead it is something that shoves his side, a foot perhaps. This time he does see the world as he blinks and slowly opens his eyes, instead of the darkness he had gotten to know so well. The world is bright, too bright for his still unfocussed mind. It confuses Brynmor to learn that he can actually see, all though he finds himself in a total unfamiliar place. ”Ah, I see you’re finally awake, Brynnie.” And that is what make him snap his eyes wide open. He remembers. He remembers all. ”You still don’t look too great” his friend humours him as a snarky grin lies on his lips.
While he groans softly Brynmor pushes himself up on both his hands and knees. His body felt stiff like he had laid on the ground for hours, the sand in his mouth only confirmed it. Next to the taste of sand there is also acid that burns in his throat. And there is something sticky underneath his hands and there sticks something to his cheek and neck and even his clothes feel a little soaked. Vomit? ”Oh gross..” he mutters out loud as he pulls his hand back to wipe it off on his pants. Once the dress pants had been neat and well, but now they were stained with dust, blood and vomit and even things from which he didn’t even want to know what it was. At his right knee the pants were torn, showing his bloody and broken skin. His dress shirt wasn’t much better, the once white fabric was dirty and wet, since he had apparently passed out in his own vomit after they had escaped. Escaped without Dera that was.
”I killed her..” His voice is barely a whisper and tears are once again clouding his vision. ”You made me kill her..” He accuses his friend as he moves to stand up, glancing in his friends direction. He can hear some of his joints creaking as he rushes to stand up. For a few second his vision grows darker again and a merciless pounding almost sends him back to the ground. Brynmor cannot stop the pained moan, holding his head with his still dirty hands. ”It was the price we had to pay for our safety.” He doesn’t verbally respond, yet he glances in his friends direction, a clear look of disgust upon his handsome face.
As he hears her voice his head jerks to the side, clear blue eyes instantly searching for her. ”Where are you?” he almost animalistic growls. Her snarky comments only makes it worse and he can feel his chest rumble. ”Get out of my head!” he snaps. He doesn’t understand he sudden fit of laughing to comes out of the direction where his friend leans against the wall. Brynmor didn’t understand what made his words so funny, if he only knew that his friend was only imaginary and normally lived in his head. As Missy continues speaking he keeps muttering and complaining softly to himself, yet this time the young fellow makes sure to actually listen to what she says. A maze, which is full of surprises, full of possible dangers – which wouldn’t surprise him after Missy’s last game, another transformation. He instantly pales, freaking out with the idea there will be more games, more changes. What terror would be waiting for him this time?
She’s gone again. Or at least she keeps silent now, probably watching from the side-line and enjoying their pain. His pain. Slowly Brynmor turns his head towards the maze. He stands only a few meters away from the big opening that is its entrance. From where he stands he can see high bushes and path’s between them. The middle, he would have to search for the middle, but it probably wouldn’t be as easy as just walk straight and right towards it. The way that goes straight from where he stands is blocked by another green wall, but he cannot see if he has the possibility to go left and/or right there. He could also go left and right from the entrance. Brynmor doesn’t like this game, already confused with the challenge in his mind. ”What are you waiting for?” And once again the laughing.
”Let’s get this over with..” he says, straightening his shoulders as he turns to look at his friend, who simply nods. It is his friend who enters first, just calmly walking into the maze as nothing happens to him. Brynmor is only a step behind, but like Missy had said the change starts as soon as he sets a foot into the maze. ”Aaaargh.” The scream is only half human and half beast. He clenches his fists and all his muscles tenses as he fights the strange urge. He feels like throwing his head in his neck and howl to the moon. By the time he falls on both his hands and knees (again) he has his eyes firmly closed and his hands dig into the ground. Brynmor is panting hard and his back arches. As his eyes open again his pupils have changed and he glares at his friend through the eyes of a wolf. ”Run you fool.” After that he relaxes and lets the transformation take of his body.
He howls. He howls to the moon that shines above the maze. His fur is as grey as his normal coat is and his eyes are still blue. Yet his hooves that changed into hands have now changed into paws with claws. No longer his body stands on two feet, he is back to walking at four feet. But he can still see. Compared to his human form his senses are much better and he is almost high on the feeling. Brynmor’s sight is both sharper and worse at the same time, his hearing more efficient and clear and his nose easily tells him in which way his prey has fled.
Rational thoughts are no longer a part of his mind. His body lunges forward, claws digging into the dirt. The feeling is euphoric and in his joy he cannot help but to happily bark as a little pup. And that is what he looks like, with his tongue hanging from his maw. Wolves and other canine creatures didn’t sweat, the only way to lose the heat from the running was through his open maw. He spurts further into the maze, turning left and then right, not able to make clear decisions of where to go. His goal is long gone from his mind, only the euphoric feeling remains. That is until the scent hits him. Brynmor instantly comes to a halt, holding still as his ear stand up and his nose tilts into the air to sniff it. Prey. He howls again and the lone howl echo’s through the maze.
His new body squats as he creeps forward, his body close to the ground and he tries to make as little noise as possible. Brynmor places his paws carefully at the ground as he follows his nose. He had smelled something and the scent had hit him hard. A sudden urge to kill rushed through him, pumping up his blood, as well as anger that drives him even more forward. While his mind isn’t able to understand the flashes correctly, he can make out how big the grudge is he held to the owner of the scent. Flashes of urging, the word kill, the knife, the blood and her lifeless body on the ground. It was this being that made him kill. And now he had the animalistic urge to kill again.
It is close. His dark grey body lies on the ground, hidden underneath some low bushes at a corner of the maze. He could easily hear the loud pants that come from the human’s direction, but even though his friend is tired, he doesn’t sit still. Brynmor had followed the scent through the maze, not even paying attention which turns he took and in what way he went, no, all he could focus on was the scent of his prey. Just a few more steps, and then he could strike. Like a true wolf he waited for his prey to come within reach and it was only then that he lunges forward. ”Fuck, Brynmor, stop this!” Of course the human turns and runs and how he manages to speak up like that is a mystery. ’Killer. Killer. Killer. Kill’ are the only thought’s in Brynmor’s mind. He lands from his first jump, catches the fall with his flexible muscles, and stretches his legs to run. One. Two. Three. And jump. When the loud growl echo’s through the maze his teeth sink into flesh. His prey cries out in pain and agony, fear readable on his face, as he begs and pleas Brynmor to remember him, rolling onto his back to look up in those blue eyes. ”Don’t do this Brynnie. You know I’ve always been there for you, wanted the best for you. You wouldn’t be here witho-“ As his teeth sink into the male’s throat his pleas are stopped abruptly. Blood touches his taste buds and smears covers his maw, face and chest with blood. Anger still rules him and the pounding of his own blood is the only thing he hears. Over and over his strong teeth sink in to the dead yet still warm body, tearing him apart without any clear thoughts.
He howls, still lone and empty. Anybody who’s near can hear would pick up the pain that is voiced with the howl, the anger and self-hatred. Slowly the howl changes towards a more human scream, a scream that expresses the self-loath, pain and anxiousness. He doesn’t understand his body and isn’t able to wrap his mind around the thing he had just done. His face, lips, chin and chest are covered with blood, sticky blood that doesn’t belong to him, but to the body that he sits next to. Brynmor can still see it’s his friend. His lifelong friend and companion, the only one that had been around him after he got dumped into that secluded corner of the kingdom. And he had killed him. He had killed his best and only friend. Just as he had killed Dera and offered her to get away. Was this his punishment? Was this the price had had to pay to safe his live? To live with the reminder that he had killed the two beings that had actually cared about him. Two beings that meant more to him than he would be able to admit.
By the time Brynmor’s cries and sobs die out he is exhausted. As he glances up at the sky he notices that the moon would soon be replaced by the sun, as the sky is coloring lighter already. He would’ve thought the sight was beautiful if he hadn’t been so heart broken. His mind is an empty void and he doesn’t know what to do. He just sits in the maze, staring in front of him as time passes slowly. It is only when he dares to look at the broken body again that he remembers Missy and her challenge. With effort he pushes his sore – the running hadn’t done his untrained muscles any good – and hurt body into a standing position. He doesn’t know where he is, or which way he has to go, so instead he turns to his left and start walking with a slight limp in his step.
He went left and left, and to the right, and to the left again. And after he forgot his route. The only thing that tells him that he has already passed that certain crossing in the maze is the cross he had drawn in the sand. ”Damn it” he curses out loud, but keeps the following rants to himself. His voice is raw and his throat hurts. Brynmor longs for water to soothe the pain, if he only could find some. He had to get to the middle of the maze, there would he find it, but he doesn’t know how to reach that point.
His first clue comes when he stands face to face with Dera. No, there are actually two of her. The human one he knows, she even wears the same as during the time he last saw her. And it pains to see the red coloring of the white fabric around her stomach and through the hole in it he can even see the cut from when he stabbed her. Brynmor pales as he stands there frozen. ”I am sorry.. I’m so so sorry..” he can barely mumble. All she does is looking at him, her hands hanging loosely at his side. It is the horse form of Dera that speaks up. Her voice is different from the human Dera, yet he instantly recognizes it. It is the voice that had given him his name, the voice of the mare who bore him. ”You’ve disappointed me son” she simply says, yet the pain and disappointment shows in her eyes. ”And don’t you dare blaming the kingdom, it has been my home too and your sisters turned out well.” It sung. Her words stung. Tears run down his cheeks as he steps forward, causing both the females to back away from him. He can only see their backs as they retreat, walking side by side as they leave him behind. Her words echo through his mind. He killed her. He killed his mother.
The next person he meets, and tells him he must be going into the right direction, is the one he had been grieving about only moments before. ”You killed me, Brynnie” he accuses. And all the young male can do is cast his gaze down, feeling ashamed of his own deeds. No longer he holds a grudge against the man. Only a fool would hold a grudge against the death. And it had been his hands that had hold the knife, his hands that sliced through the flesh of her stomach before they ran. It had also been his teeth – all though in a different form – that had torn his throath. ”I… I am..” but he can’t finish. His sorrowful gaze meets the one of his friend and he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. Yet his friend shakes his head as to tell him to stay silent and points into the direction of his left. Brynmor drops his head before slowly taking off in that direction. ”Thank you.”
Missy’s surprises hurt him. Hit him right in the core. He had always wondered what happened to his mother, why she didn’t raise him. He had gotten his answer now. She was dead. And the only thing he could think of was that he was the reason for it. How could it not, with these last discoveries? And after came his friend. Missy’s games had make him kill both of his companions, both beings that cared for him. He had survived his lone and dark years in the kingdom because of this friend. Even though Brynmor hadn’t been able to see him, he had been there to look out for him and spend time with him. Ever since he had started to pass these dark reminders he hadn’t seen the crosses on the ground anymore, signalling that he was going in the right direction – or at least that he had stopped walking in circles. Reaching another crossing he stops and moves to the side of the green wall, peeking around the corner to see who he would meet this time. And only when he sees that nobody is there he quickly crosses the place.
” Time to come out boy.” Upon hearing those words and that voice he freezes. Brynmor’s eyes widen as he spins his body around. From behind him a pale stallion appears. He had wings that were spread in a threating way and his eyes burn with an intense red. Even though he can now see the one he owes his life too he shivers and unwillingly steps back. ”You!” he can only breath out in a whisper. Without knowing why he falls to his knees, feeling a big pressure burn on his shoulders that weights him down. His gaze is cast to the ground as the stallion nears him. ”Do you think you are ready to serve me and the kingdom?” the voice asks, pausing only a second before continuing. ”I’ll leave you no choice in this. And if you fail dear Brynmor…” Hearing those word repeated again he cannot stop the shiver to run down his spine. And when he looks up to look at the male he can see the snarl upon his lips. ”Your death will be a most painful one.” Those words are like a promise. A promise that has him trembling on his knees. He can only bow his head as a silent promise he would do whatever was asked of him. ”You will be worth nothing if you won’t make it out of the maze. From here, go to the left, then straight ahead and to the right when you reach the dead end. There you’ll find your reward. And with that the winged male takes off.
Turned out that the winged males words had been true. Not that had Brynmor had questioned them, his reasons for pointing towards the right direction seemed logical. How could he fulfil his purpose if he wouldn’t be able to find his way out of this maze? After he turned to the right at the dead end he finds a clearing. Instantly he knows it is the center of the maze and in the middle of the little clearing there is a small fountain. His eyes widen at the sight of the water, clear and alluring. He stumbles forward, rushing his still limping pace as his thirst drives him forward. ”Water, finally” he speaks his findings out loud as he crashes near the side. Greedy he reaches out , about to dip his hand into the water, as a well-known voice speaks up. It is older a little older than normal and there is a slight timbre in it that tell his that this male has much more life experience than himself.
Brynmor finds himself eye to eye with himself. ”You’ve changed the future” is the only thing he says. He isn’t able to reply, or even to pay attention to the words, as his human eyes run over the older horse in front of him. His coat had grayed out almost completely and his body had gotten broader and more muscular. The eyes show the white of death, even in the future he wouldn’t be able to see. That stings, especially now he has gotten used to the sight in this little time. ”Are you… are you me..?” Even though the eyes are blanc and unseeing Brynmor can feel the stern gaze directed in his direction. His older self knows exactly where he stands, like he is perfectly able to determine his position. He himself had never been able to do so. And it gives him home. ”I am what could’ve been you, if you only had made different decisions. What the future now holds for you is unclear, but know you’ve thrown away a good life.” It is almost like this older Brynmor is angry with him, angry for what he did and what he would become. And it frightened him. What could be this wrong if his future self was so disappointed in him. ”I’ll make up for it! I promise” he blurts out, not thinking clearly as he says so. Yet the gray horse in front of him shakes his head. ”It’s too late. Now. Drink from the water and release the wolf curse. But be prepared to face the one you cannot break.” This time his visitor doesn’t disappear and neither sends him away, instead he watches as Brynmor moves towards the water. His hands stops above the water. He trembles, confused and anxious, broken and marked. But he cannot pollute the water with his bloody hands. So instead he leans forward, using his mouth to drink from the water directly. His throat is soothed, but his heart aches.
OOC: I apologise for the sight power play. I hope you guys don’t mind <3
"Through your secret."
According to word it has 3414 words and I spend 2 hours and 50 minutes writing.