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Beyond that first row of guards, the giant wall of towering trees, I into the darkness wander. Following my guide, I enter the forest. A quiet comes, the murder’s squabbles fading away, and at this edge between the dead village I’d left, with its dry riverbed and its corpses rotting in the overbearing sun, and this expanse of shadow before, I discover a twilight. All color is wrapped within a musty hue, variations upon a single tone. Oraculi flies further in, and landing upon some twisting branch, his black feathers melt into the deeper shadows. Squinting, I keep my eyes on him, slowly following the bird into the darkness. Deeper he leads me, and deeper I go, into an eternal night.
It’s a cold world, as dead as the one I’d left, and more so. Here nothing, nothing but me and the bird, lives. There weren’t even dead things that had been alive, unless counting the trees. The fowl lead me on. There was no path ahead but to follow him, and no trail behind. Not that I looked for one. I kept my eyes on him, near invisible within those shadows. Fluttering from one branch to another he waited for me, sometimes cawing when I stopped to look for him. The deeper we went, the darker, until all was black. I only had his voice to follow then, his voice to lead me through the void.
Tale Told 