Chapter 2

Once within those wooden walls, the chill was banished. Warmth enveloped us like an old friend's embrace after years apart. Hilda settled us around the crackling fire with stern yet soothing words.

"Now you lot make yourselves comfortable while I fetch some stew. And Grorim, keep those hands where I can see them - last time you found them in my biscuits before they'd even cooled!"

The dwarf grumbled but complied, brushing crumbs from his beard. Our host bustled off to the adjoining kitchen, soon returning with a bounty of savoury delights upon a wooden tray.

The aroma alone was enough to stir even deadened senses. My stomach rumbled loudly as Hilda ladled steaming stew into awaiting bowls. "There you are dears. Eat up while it's hot!"

Blessing the meal, we dug in with gusto. Thick broth swirled with tender morsels of meat and vegetables, stinging tongues yet warming one from crown to toe. I sighed in pure bliss, fatigue seeping from very bones under such care.

"A talented cook you are, Hilda," Barta remarked, long fingers cradling his bowl. "Your stew is fit for kings."

Our host preened under the praise. "You flatter this old bird, Barta. I've had many a year to practice." She turned to me then with a twinkle in her eye. "And how do you find it, dear? Put some meat on your bones, I hope."

I nodded eagerly through my latest mouthful. "Wonderfully hearty. I feel warmth spreading to my fingertips already."

She smiled, smoothing wayward grey curls. "That's a relief to hear. You were blue as death when Grorim dragged you in."

Speaking of the dwarf, his bushy red brow knit as he scooped up the last drops with crust of bread. "A stranger thing it was indeed, finding the lad out cold like that." His bearded face turned questioning. "Any recollection of how you came to be lost in my woods, eh?"

All eyes turned expectantly my way. I shook my head slowly, mulling through wisps of memory. "Only...darkness. And a feeling of floating, untethered from all." My hand rose unconsciously to the persisting ache at my temple. "I pray my wits return fully with time."

Barta laid a reassuring hand on my arm. "Think no more of it tonight, friend. Rest will allow clarity in its own course. For now, tis time to rest and strengthen for the days ahead."

"Umm, do you mind if I can sleep near the fire?" I asked.

Hilda smiled warmly. "Of course, child, you needn't even ask. I've a spare cot just yonder by the hearth where you'll be snug and toasty through the night."

She bustled off then returned wheeling a low wooden bed, piling furs atop its straw-stuffed mattress. My exhaustion must have shown plain as day, for she tutted softly. "Off with you now, go rest those weary bones. The morrow brings its own energies to gather."

Sliding beneath the pelts, a contented sigh escaped my lips as all tension melted away in the fire's golden glow. My eyelids grew heavier by the moment.

Barta's lilting tones soothed as darkness encroached. "Sleep well, friend, and may your dreams guide healing hands." Grorim's gravelly chuckle chimed in. "Aye, and if that noggin o' yours is still a muddle come morn, Hilda's hangover remedy is second to none!"

The dwarf's jest elicited both laughs and stern looks from our hosts. As their banter faded to a murmur, I let the warmth and company lull my racing mind at last to quiet.

What mysteries yet surrounded my arrival in this strange land? For now all faded but the dance of flickering light upon closed eyes. Tomorrow was uncertain as ever - but for tonight, in this pocket of sanctuary by the crackling fire, all was well.

Between dreamscapes of shadowed forests and rolling mist-shrouded fields, a chill crept over my restless slumber. Dread pooled in my core like icy lead despite the fire's warm cloak.

Beneath closed lids, a presence watched - ancient, terrible. Details emerged through dancing flames, etching themselves upon subconscious in modo morbidi.

A feminine form took shape amid the smoke, all alabaster skin pulled taut over corded muscle and sharp, avian bones. Two faces stared from the same graceful neck - one hauntingly beautiful, lips parted in secret smile; the other a twisted avarice of fangs and empty eyes.

Great raven wings arced from her back, feathers gleaming obsidian. Clawed fingers caressed polished fragments of bone and gold inlaid with carnelian, harvested souls. Her dangling jewelry sang with each subtle movement, an ominous chimesong that raised every hair on end.

She glided forward, ethereal as an otherworldly visage painted by moon and shadow. But her fathomless glare held no kindness, only cold calculation and depths of depravity known only in mankind's darkest tales.

This...creature knew my deepest fears, could peel back skin and memory with but a thought. Her touch meant only agony, corruption of flesh and spirit alike. I wanted to flee, to wake, yet fear snared my mind faster than any trap.

Somehow she sensed my growing horror. Cloven lips peeled back in a mirthless grin, baring murderous fangs filed to razored points. In that stretched, soulless mimicry of delight lurked aeons of cruelty. She saw me, saw into me - and I into her, bearing witness to inhuman malice that would freeze the very sun.

With a start, I jolted upright amid sweat-slick furs, heart pounding fit to burst through my breast. Beyond the fire's flickering halo, only familiar wooden walls greeted my wide, unseeing stare. 

(Early chapters on p atreon.com/JoyBoyTheSun)