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@everyone

HIIIIII I’ll respond to y’all like tomorrow when I actually have time. XD

For now, Niarok is insisting that I get him back to dad status. So here goes…

Niarok

This felt strangely familiar.

Painfully familiar.

The smell of smoke was almost enough to send him into a flashback.

Too bad he’d picked up Yila’s habit of panicking.

Niarok shook his head, sniffing the air. The smell was off. His head felt fuzzy.

Really really fuzzy.

And the air…

It definitely smelled like…

Urgency stabbed through the fog in Niarok’s mind and he covered his mouth and nose with his shirt, every last one of his Mist instincts kicking in.

He ran down the hallway, fishing through his pack and tearing out the herb that would counteract the poison.

He had to get to a higher level.

Unless the entire castle was filled with this stuff.

Then he would die.

He refused to let that be an option.

The hallway curved and a staircase appeared. He took the stairs two at a time before nearly running off the edge into a dark pit.

He pulled up short and sighed.

Now he remembered this too.

How the castle would move and change and crush and actively try to kill its inhabitants.

Great.

The poison was aching in his lungs, and he glanced along the ceiling.

The doorway to the next level was six feet away and a bit higher than the level he was at. It would be a stretch, but he wasn’t about to give up. He had more of a chance dying of the death mist than he did of missing the doorway.

He tore the pack off his back and hurled it through the doorway, then sucked in one more breath of the herbs before taking a step back, running, and leaping.

For a heart-stopping moment, there was nothing beneath him. Nothing.

Then the doorway was there. He grabbed the ledge and swung, nearly losing his grip and plummeting to his death.

With a grunt, he hauled himself up over the ledge and lay on the floor, panting.

And now his lungs were probably ruined forever.

Now he knew how Yila felt.

He stood slowly, every joint aching as the paralysis threatened to take hold.

This was a serious, serious issue.

Creating an entire medicine while walking frantically up and down a hallway was not ideal, but he’d cease to function if he sat down.

The memory of all the people he’d paralyzed by that very method prickled his skin and he gritted his teeth.

He was really starting to understand how Yila felt.

Sorry, sis.

And now there were voices.

He pulled his satchel from the pack and found the three herbs he needed.

And didn’t have time to combine properly.

He shook his head and shoved them in his mouth. So maybe he’d have chills for the rest of the day, but at least he’d be able to move. Ideal wasn’t a word that applied to this ridiculous torture ride.

Once his muscles started to loosen again, Niarok followed the voices down the hallway.

What he found was…

A room full of sleeping people?

Muttering?

In their sleep?

What in the breath?

Easily the strangest thing he’d seen so far in this castle. This time.

The other time had been stranger.

So now the question was whether this castle was still the malevolent livid beast it had been before or something different. More or less sinister, Niarok didn’t know.

Just that he was not going to enjoy any changes unless they helped him get Yila back.

And with that he collapsed to the floor as an overwhelming urge to sleep overtook him. But not before he saw a blonde man smirk into the room with the most evil golden eyes he’d ever seen.

Must be the Keeper.

 

Mori

Now this was more like it.

A castle all his own?

Without internal rain clouds?

Oh wait.

Was that movement?

Okay, so either the castle wasn’t all his own or it was raining.

The man that played next to the empty gaping door cliff certainly didn’t look like a rain cloud.

But he did look dangerous.

Mori’s eyes narrowed.

Enemy. Perfect.

The man was strong. And tall. And clearly had some serious life experience.

Not nearly so much as myself, clearly.

But life experience nonetheless.

Hrmph.

So now the question was, did Mori kill him now, or wait, or slowly torture him by offering him false hope of…

of…

Scum of Intrendia!

Where were the man’s thoughts?

Seriously, where were they?

No one was this good at guarding stray thoughts.

No. One.

Except for apparently this idiot. Who was now striding down the hallway to the Room of The Insane Muttering Sleepies.

Mori ducked behind the door.

I should kill him now.

Except…

Torturing him would be so much more fun.

If I can figure out how.

Then again…

The man collapsed on the floor.

Mori smirked as he stepped from behind the door.

So maybe instead of just torturing cliff stairs man…

He’d torture everyone.

At once.

He drew his knife and contemplated the carefully sharpened, slightly blood-stained edge.

He couldn’t wait.

 

THAT WAS SO WEIRD I’ve never written from Mori’s POV before…

On another note, it felt SO GOOD to write Niarok again lol. I’ll write his challenge tomorrow or whenever I next recall that SE exists. XD