Mistral: Battle For Majini

The meadow came to an end at the place where a healthy forest began. Tall, ancient trees rose up from the ground – permanent sentinels given a long ago mandate to guard the entrance against unwanted intruders. Out of breath, from the chase, his chest heaving with the effort it took to fill his lungs with an adequate supply of oxygen, Ejay paused there at the tree line. It was more fear than a need to catch his breath that prevented him from crossing the threshold into the unknown straightaway. What looked to be a never ending wall of terrifying darkness spread horizontal and vertical and rose up towards the sky– as far as his eyes could see. It came to a stop just short of where he’d planted his feet at the border between meadow and forest. He stood in the small space between two of the massive rough, gray bark tree trunks, packed closely together, and raised his head. Like all the others, they stretched up into thick caps of leaves that blanketed the sky and absorbed all of the sunlight for themselves; so much so, what dense foliage that he could make out appeared black. A squint tightened his brow as he tried to find a smidgen of colour through the boughs or beyond the canopy swaying several feet over his head. There wasn’t a hint of blue nor was there a trace of the white clouds that he knew to be there, floating above, to be seen. The sky was completely obscured.  He tried, once again, to pierce the wall of darkness ahead of him by narrowing his vision to one particular spot. It was a vain effort. The woodland was eerily overrun by an impenetrable black. A faint mist, on the other hand, a stark white film standing in stark contrast to what lay before him, and the only other visible colour other than black, was writhing over the forest floor and hissing a warning for him to turn back. It percolated there at the edge of the tree line but went no further, like there was some mystical force commanding it to remain exactly there.  Ejay turned around. He gave a final longing look to the enchanted meadow behind him. It was a beautiful and serene place to be and unlike anything he'd ever come across before in his life.  To shield his eyes from the unremitting glare of the blazing sun, he had to raise a hand to his brow. The same warmed the atmosphere, tinging the landscape with a hue of gold and lifted a fragrant perfume from the vibrant petals swarming the field. The air, quite literally, sparkled with the sweet scent of summer blossoms extracted from the flowers as though in tiny seeds of white light dancing from the colourful mélange of daffodils and daises, clovers in their variant forms, buttercup and lupines, rosa blanda and a whole host of other blooms dotting the sea of broad leaf grass. Then they were whisked away on a slight breeze that commanded a whispering low rustle from the grassland and mingled with the intermittent chorus of the creatures that inhabited the land. Overhead, the sky pulled, in an uninterrupted shade of crisp blue, all the way to the horizon until it met the tips of a row of mountains in the distance. Each majestic peak was scudded by a few wisps of clouds in shades of lilac and rose for the bright beams of sunlight modifying their appearance from plain white to something far more brilliant and ethereal. Dusk would be upon him soon, Ejay noted.  And then what? he thought to himself. Then he questioned his brain's strange usage of the word dusk. He gave a great heaving sigh in an attempt to steady his breath as well as his nerves and put aside his weird fixation on the development of his vocabulary while he rested on the cusp of such a conundrum.  Before him, facing the sun, was the way to safety and home – a way that Ejay was sorely tempted to take and was just as sorely beaten by his conscience for considering taking it. He was skeptical of venturing into the unknown and confident that what he was about to embark on was a fool’s errand. One likely to get him killed; if what he had just encountered in the meadow was any indication.  His clothes and skin were still hot to the touch from the baptism by fire he’d just endured. The stench of scorching hair and flesh still clung to him and burned his nostrils. How he remained alive, and unscathed for that matter, without a hair on his body or the fabric on his back singed, after encountering a literal fire breathing dragon that had doused him in red flames in the middle of this very enchanting meadow was , frankly, inexplicable. He'd watched the fire spark and glow in the pit of the beast's belly. He'd stood completely transfixed and helpless while the flames lit a path up the animal's broad chest and erupted from its wide set of jaws to set him on fire. He should have been nothing more than a heap of ash to be blown away by the wind. That he was unharmed was a miracle and something told him that if he continued on his fool’s errand – for that is what he was; a fool trying to play hero to a girl he had never even spoken a word to in all of his life – he likely wouldn't remain that way for very long.   The very thought of crossing paths with something more terrifying than the red dragon which had swooped down from the sun and made off with Sevana, gripped in its talons, made his bones quake. Going back without her felt like less of an option, however. There was no way that he could do so without her. Although he could not believe that he was actually going through with it, Ejay took hold of the fragile cord of courage bolstering his spine and faced the forest again.  To help quiet his jittery nerves, he swallowed a huge gulp of air. It did nothing to help. As a matter of fact, with it, his heart rate sped up, thumping at a pace that he hadn't known was possible. Neither did he expect that it was any good for his health. He was already faintish as it was.  In his hand, he held what he supposed was a sizeable stick. He'd picked it up in the field to defend himself and the object of his life-long, secret infatuation against the great terrible beast. It had proven ineffectual in battle but had survived the inferno as well. Hence the reason he still clung to it. Sweat was pouring out of his pores, slickening his skin, especially the palms of his hands rendering his hold on his sole weapon tenuous. He curled his fingers around the course stem with a firmer grip and uttered a silent but short prayer to the heavens -- hoping that it would be enough -- and took his first tentative step into the murky darkness.  Ejay stopped walking again. He couldn't see a thing. The darkness became a living, breathing, tangible entity. Shadows slithered over his skin, like a silken cloak thrown over his person; particularly over his head, obstructing his ability to see anything. The feel of it incited a series of shudders through his body.  He didn't think it was possible to be any more fearful than he already was and so took a certain amount of comfort from that. He leveled his palm to his face and stretched his eyelids far apart, willing his pupils to respond. The darkness was stubborn and so thick it slowed his movements as he waved his hand in front of his face. Not even the outline of his fingers were discernable there in the blackness much denser than pitch.  “This is impossible,” Ejay whispered. “How do I find you if I can’t see where I’m going? If I don’t know where I’m going?” The hissing fog heard his unspoken request for a way through the impossible darkness and charted a pathway for him, though, at first, Ejay didn't take notice.  You see, something snapped not too far away from him. The sound made him jump. In quick order, his attention was snagged by it and the sense of defeat rising inside him was swiftly curtailed by a presence that he could perceive but not see. Quite suddenly, this situation that he’d found himself in had worsened, exactly as he'd convinced himself that it would. He was imprisoned by cold fear that rushed from the ends of his hair to the tips of toenails and left no room to feel anything else. Fresh beads of sweat formed and ran in rivulets from the edge of hair, joining the wetness already there dampening his hair and matting it to sides of his face.  His heart responded to this new development – in what was turning out to be the strangest day he’d ever experienced – with a quiver that extended all the way to his bowels. His first thought was to hop back into the light glinting just outside of the forest. Something nudged his mind from within giving him a quick reminder of why he’d come in the first place. It was an unfamiliar sensation that he would describe as swimming in his brain but he was glad that it quieted the urge to run away screaming. Whatever it was gave him purpose enough to stammer, “who’s there?” so softly, he scarcely heard it himself.  “Who’s there?” a voice repeated. “It is you stealing a way into my domain, stranger. And yet, a stranger you are not. I know your scent and yet I do not. Why is that? And how is it that you have come by here?" Whoever was speaking was now closer so Ejay backed up a step, his intention to flee back into the meadow.  “I’m afraid you cannot go back the way you came,” the voice warned. “The veil will not permit it. The door you entered is now closed and the only way out is...well never mind that. Now, declare yourself, I say,” whoever it was demanded.