OF ALL THE PECULIARITIES OF THE ISLAND, THIS ONE HAD COME TO HIM WITH A PERFECT CLARITY THAT WAS WITH ASTOUNDING REPRIEVE: THAT TWISTING, GNARLING BRANCH OF SAND WHICH, IN ITS OWN SERPENTINE MANNER, FOUND AT LENGTH OF HIS VISION A PATH THAT ROUNDED AND ROUNDED AND WOUND SO DEEPLY BETWIXT THE OVERGROWTH THAT ONE MAY BE TOO JADED AS TO BE CONCERNED. INDEED, AS ONE WAS, HE IS A LANGUID FELLOW WHO IN THE RECENT EVENTS TENDED TO QUESTION EVERY INFLECTION OF MADNESS THAT APPROACHED HIM IN WAVES – IN TORRENTS, SO THAT EVERY SIGHT UPON THE ISLAND WAS A CAUTIOUS MURMUR TO A DISTANT DREAM THAT HE COULD NOT RECALL MUSING. THAT THE SUN HAD CLAMBERED TO THE TOP OF ITS THRONE AND SAT COMPLACENT, GLUTTONOUS AND GRIM, WAS OF NO MORE CONSEQUENCE THAN THE MANNER IN WHICH THE ISLAND REVEALED ITSELF TO BE A SOURCE OF ASYLUM UNIQUITY. THE SILENCE WAS ALMOST AS UNBEARABLE AS THE PERSISTENT HUM, AND HE HAD LOST HIMSELF TO WONDERING WHICH WAS WORSE.
HE WAS JUST AT THE PEAK OF HIS CONSIDERATIONS THAT THE SUN WAS THE WORST PART OF ALL WHEN THE ODDITIES OF THE ISLAND WERE STIRRED ONCE MORE.
TO HIS DISMAY, IT WAS NOT THE SUN THAT LURCHED AND TWISTED IN A MANGLED CARICATURE OF WHAT MAY BE, TOO MUCH TO BE DASHED FROM ITS HEAVENLY ALTAR. BUT THE SAND DRIFTED BENEATH HIS FEET, AND THE ANIMALIAN WAY IN WHICH IT MOVED AND TWISTED AND – PERHAPS EVEN TAUNTED, IN ITS OWN SIGNIFICANT WAY – WOVE INTO THE CLUSTER OF GREENERY ON AND ON. IT DOVE AND WOUND, BOUNDING WITH A CURIOUS RESISTANCE TO THE MUNDANITY THAT BESET ITS ENVIRONMENT. FOR A WHILE HE MERELY STOOD AND CONTEMPLATED ITS NATURE FOR ALL THE WAYS IT SEEMED TO LEAP AND NESTLE BETWEEN ROOT AND SHADOW LIKE THE PATH OF A TIMID RABBIT. BUT O! BY WHAT GRACELESS FATES HAVE SMILED UPON HIM, HE OBSERVED THE WAY IT SHIFTED AND PULSED LIKE THE LIQUIDATION OF SERPENTS' COILS, AND AT ONCE PREYED HIS MIND OVER THAT HAPPENSTANCE WITH THE NOT-MOONLIGHT AND THE GILDED WIND-MAP.
WAS IT NOT AMIDST THE SAND ITSELF THAT A SERPENT HAD BORNE FROM ITS DEPTHS, WINDING BACK AGAINST ITSELF AND LUNGED – HAPHAZARDLY, FOR ITS EXISTENCE FELL RECKLESS AND LACKING LIKE A LIMP BREEZE – FOR THE FLESH OF HIS THROAT. THE SEA, THE WRETCH HAD CRIED, THE SEA WAS ALL. BUT GODS WERE LIARS, WERE THEY NOT?
HE FOLLOWED.
HE DID NOT KNOW HOW LONG, AND IN TIME, COULD NOT BE BOTHERED TO CARE.
THE FOREST WAS LABYRINTHINE. BUT IT WAS VACANT, AND WITH IT THE WINDING OF PROMISE IN ITS DEPTHS THAT REBOUNDED FROM THE GREAT VOID OF SILENCE. IT TEETHED ALONG THE SHADOWS. IT CREPT BEHIND HIS FOOTSTEPS. WHAT IT PROMISED EXACTLY, FINALITY OR BLISS, HE COULD NOT DETERMINE. BUT IT CALLED TO HIM. IT WAS MEANT FOR HIM, WAS IT NOT? THAT MAP, THE NOT-MOONLIGHT, THE NATURE OF SERPENTS, THE WAY THE SEA – THE SEA! THE DAMNABLE, INCORRIGIBLE SEA! – CROWNED THE SHORE AND RAKED WITH A CONTEMPT THAT MEANT NO WELCOME.
AT ONCE HE COULD NOT READILY SAY WHETHER THE FEVER BROKE OR BEGAN, OR WHY EVEN IT ENCROACHED IF NOT FOR THE MANIA OF THAT UNHOLY RETCH OF VOLCANIC EARTH – BUT HE THOUGHT HE SAW IT THERE, THAT TROPHY, THAT RELIC OF SOME FACELESS GOD. HE THOUGHT THAT IT SAT ON A MOUND, SHINING AND STUNNING BENEATH THE WARMTH AND WEIGHT OF THE MERCILESS SUN. BUT BEFORE HE COULD BE SURE, HIS SIGHT WAS INTRUDED UPON BY THE MASS CONGREGATION THAT CAME TO RECEIVE – OR SEIZE – IT. HE WOULD, IF HE HAD KNOWN BETTER OF ITS ORIGINS OR ITS USES, PERHAPS HAVE JOINED THEM IN THEIR HOT PURSUIT. BUT INSTEAD HE MARVELLED AT THE EQUAL UNSUREDNESS THAT SURROUNDED HIM, FINDING AMONGST THEM AN OCCASIONAL FAMILIAR FACE BEFORE EACH BLURRED WITH THE NEXT. AND THEN HE WAS SURE. THERE, JUST BEYOND THEIR REACH, RESTED THE REGAL THING. BUT IT WAS TOO COINCIDENTAL, WAS IT NOT? TO SIT UNGUARDED, BEWILDERED BY THIS ENTANGLEMENT OF CREATURES WHO STOOD IN AWE OR PINING, EACH A SEEMING WISH GRANTED IN SHEER EXISTENCE.
AS THE GRAND MIRRORS OF HIS EYES BATHED THE RELIC IN WONDER AND HUNGER, HE REMEMBERED THE WAY THAT SHADOW-SNAKE HAD LUNGED FOR HIS THROAT.
HE WAS JUST AT THE PEAK OF HIS CONSIDERATIONS THAT THE SUN WAS THE WORST PART OF ALL WHEN THE ODDITIES OF THE ISLAND WERE STIRRED ONCE MORE.
TO HIS DISMAY, IT WAS NOT THE SUN THAT LURCHED AND TWISTED IN A MANGLED CARICATURE OF WHAT MAY BE, TOO MUCH TO BE DASHED FROM ITS HEAVENLY ALTAR. BUT THE SAND DRIFTED BENEATH HIS FEET, AND THE ANIMALIAN WAY IN WHICH IT MOVED AND TWISTED AND – PERHAPS EVEN TAUNTED, IN ITS OWN SIGNIFICANT WAY – WOVE INTO THE CLUSTER OF GREENERY ON AND ON. IT DOVE AND WOUND, BOUNDING WITH A CURIOUS RESISTANCE TO THE MUNDANITY THAT BESET ITS ENVIRONMENT. FOR A WHILE HE MERELY STOOD AND CONTEMPLATED ITS NATURE FOR ALL THE WAYS IT SEEMED TO LEAP AND NESTLE BETWEEN ROOT AND SHADOW LIKE THE PATH OF A TIMID RABBIT. BUT O! BY WHAT GRACELESS FATES HAVE SMILED UPON HIM, HE OBSERVED THE WAY IT SHIFTED AND PULSED LIKE THE LIQUIDATION OF SERPENTS' COILS, AND AT ONCE PREYED HIS MIND OVER THAT HAPPENSTANCE WITH THE NOT-MOONLIGHT AND THE GILDED WIND-MAP.
WAS IT NOT AMIDST THE SAND ITSELF THAT A SERPENT HAD BORNE FROM ITS DEPTHS, WINDING BACK AGAINST ITSELF AND LUNGED – HAPHAZARDLY, FOR ITS EXISTENCE FELL RECKLESS AND LACKING LIKE A LIMP BREEZE – FOR THE FLESH OF HIS THROAT. THE SEA, THE WRETCH HAD CRIED, THE SEA WAS ALL. BUT GODS WERE LIARS, WERE THEY NOT?
HE FOLLOWED.
HE DID NOT KNOW HOW LONG, AND IN TIME, COULD NOT BE BOTHERED TO CARE.
THE FOREST WAS LABYRINTHINE. BUT IT WAS VACANT, AND WITH IT THE WINDING OF PROMISE IN ITS DEPTHS THAT REBOUNDED FROM THE GREAT VOID OF SILENCE. IT TEETHED ALONG THE SHADOWS. IT CREPT BEHIND HIS FOOTSTEPS. WHAT IT PROMISED EXACTLY, FINALITY OR BLISS, HE COULD NOT DETERMINE. BUT IT CALLED TO HIM. IT WAS MEANT FOR HIM, WAS IT NOT? THAT MAP, THE NOT-MOONLIGHT, THE NATURE OF SERPENTS, THE WAY THE SEA – THE SEA! THE DAMNABLE, INCORRIGIBLE SEA! – CROWNED THE SHORE AND RAKED WITH A CONTEMPT THAT MEANT NO WELCOME.
AT ONCE HE COULD NOT READILY SAY WHETHER THE FEVER BROKE OR BEGAN, OR WHY EVEN IT ENCROACHED IF NOT FOR THE MANIA OF THAT UNHOLY RETCH OF VOLCANIC EARTH – BUT HE THOUGHT HE SAW IT THERE, THAT TROPHY, THAT RELIC OF SOME FACELESS GOD. HE THOUGHT THAT IT SAT ON A MOUND, SHINING AND STUNNING BENEATH THE WARMTH AND WEIGHT OF THE MERCILESS SUN. BUT BEFORE HE COULD BE SURE, HIS SIGHT WAS INTRUDED UPON BY THE MASS CONGREGATION THAT CAME TO RECEIVE – OR SEIZE – IT. HE WOULD, IF HE HAD KNOWN BETTER OF ITS ORIGINS OR ITS USES, PERHAPS HAVE JOINED THEM IN THEIR HOT PURSUIT. BUT INSTEAD HE MARVELLED AT THE EQUAL UNSUREDNESS THAT SURROUNDED HIM, FINDING AMONGST THEM AN OCCASIONAL FAMILIAR FACE BEFORE EACH BLURRED WITH THE NEXT. AND THEN HE WAS SURE. THERE, JUST BEYOND THEIR REACH, RESTED THE REGAL THING. BUT IT WAS TOO COINCIDENTAL, WAS IT NOT? TO SIT UNGUARDED, BEWILDERED BY THIS ENTANGLEMENT OF CREATURES WHO STOOD IN AWE OR PINING, EACH A SEEMING WISH GRANTED IN SHEER EXISTENCE.
AS THE GRAND MIRRORS OF HIS EYES BATHED THE RELIC IN WONDER AND HUNGER, HE REMEMBERED THE WAY THAT SHADOW-SNAKE HAD LUNGED FOR HIS THROAT.
Erasmus is staying.
STAFF EDIT***
@erasmus has rolled a 6! He has been awarded a brittle horseshoe.
