Worms & Giants: The Legend of Hector Stout-Heart by A S Locke

Author:A S Locke [Locke, A S]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

20. TWITCH

Darkness…….. Silence…….. then the voice hissed, Remember what you did to me?

Silas' eyes sprang open. No one was there… only thick swirling mists and the lingering echoing hiss of Morag's voice…. Then, through the murk, faint at first, a dark figure emerged, shuffling towards him, with limbs and torso a writhing mass of worms.

'So, my path beyond death is chosen.' His broken voice scraped his tender throat. His path will not lead to Ceridwen's embrace, instead the worms of Charalambai the Reaper Worm King would take him to Tween, for he was destined to wander that place for an eternity. To join those pitiful lost souls in their meaningless existence. 'So be it. Brand me of sin if you must, but 'twas all for the greater good.' The loudening hiss now filled his ears as the writhing, squirming mass neared... he closed his eyes and took a deep preparatory breath.

But the hiss died away, replaced by the faint sound of clinking, like those trinkets desperate villagers would hang along their crude charm walls. All believing them to be a protection against the slow creeping tide of Morag's Curse.

Morag.

Silas' eyes burst open. The thick swirling mists had gone, replaced by an eye-aching bright blue sky interspersed with fluffy, cotton ball clouds, one being gold-rimmed by the sun hiding behind it. As he laid here, wherever here was, he took a moment to admire the Goddess’ beautiful world though his blurred eyes. He inhaled, filling his lungs with the fresh cool air. A soothing breeze caressed the tender skin on his face; but there was something different… only half his brow and cheek goose-bumped, as for the rest… there was nothing... as if numb. He idly considered lifting his hand there, but instead he simply watched the tops of the rapier grass swaying in the wind, all gently clinking together like thousands of small glass phials. Glass phials… he smacked his lips. His hand immediately felt for his bottle. It was gone. He sat up, then roared; pain akin to a tidal wave of sharp stabbing knives swept up his body. The orange-haired bowman's poison had now ravaged the whole side of his torso. He went to clutch his ribs with his right hand, but his hand was no longer there. His bleary eyes peered at the stump, now neatly dressed in linen. Further up his arm, he saw his battle-skin had blackened; Morag’s poison adding to the orange-haired bowman’s.

Someone was here… A woman’s slender hand, formed of marble coloured mist, appeared from behind him and gently took his half forearm. He winced as a second grey hand guided him back to lie down. The pain was now easing, oh merciful Ceridwen.

Easy, my love. You are safe from harm now, said a woman’s soothing voice. The poisons within you have slowed but will still need to be treated.

'Aan.' Silas reached up to touch the faint face of his lost love. But his trembling fingers passed through her, dividing her cheek into smoky channels, before reforming again.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.