Page 20 of What Blooms from Death

“Are you…?”

He lifted his tapered snout and huffed out a breath that sent a puff of shimmering, warm dust into the air. Though his shape was more dragon-like than dog-like at the moment, he was still covered in waves of sleek black fur.Solidblack fur. It glistened in the breath of energy he’d exhaled.

(Let’s just hurry and get away from this road. It feels chaotic. Unstable.)

Despite all my burning questions, I followed his lead as he broke into a sprint. His footfalls were quiet—yet not the silent steps I was used to hearing from his more ghostly form. We ran together down a gradually steeper slope until, soon enough, my feet fell upon soft, spongy ground.

I slowed, taking in my surroundings. The scent of damp, rotting earth overtook me at first, but a sweeter aroma—like freshly-picked berries—eventually fought its way toward me as well. Ethereal wisps of fog snaked through the air. Beyond its swirling, I could see the outlines of distant trees draped in shadow and edged in what seemed to be starlight—though there were no stars above that I could see.

It was desolate. Foreboding. Frightening. And yet…

It was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen.

Walking through it made me feel as if I were floating. As if all of the questions and fears weighing me down were suddenly gone. Not simply dead and buried…butgone.

The feeling of liberation, unfortunately, didn’t last.

As we reached the starlight-edged trees, the temperature dropped alarmingly quickly. An odd wind whispered around us, making it feel even colder. My skin tingled with warning, as though lightning was building somewhere nearby, preparing to strike.

I jerked my head up in search of an oncoming storm.

The entire ‘sky’ might have passed for a tempestuous cloud; one continuous, lightning-filled cloud, shifting between shades of black, red, and grey. The way it simmered and seethed reminded me of the volcanic fields I’d once visited as a child, in the Ember Islands off Valoria’s eastern coast—only the colors were more muted, and somehow more ominous because of it.

My stomach flipped.

How had I already let my guard down?

Beautiful though it might have been, this was a dark place. A dangerous place. I didn’t truly belong here, and I needed to stay focused so that I could accomplish my task and then leave it all behind as soon as possible.

I abruptly realized Phantom was not behind me, and the anxious fluttering in my stomach became painful.

I found him just before panic truly set in; he stood beside a narrow stream of silvery water, gazing at his reflection. He was back to something that resembled his original canine form.

“You’re almost solid,” I commented, still unable to fully believe it.

(More suited to the dead world than the living, it would seem.) He wagged his tail, and was promptly distracted by the sound of it actuallythumpingagainst the ground. He chased it for a few seconds—clearly enamored with the fact that he might actually be able to grasp it in his jaws for the first time in years—before collecting himself and settling back into a more dignified sitting position. (I feel light here, even though I’m more solid.)

I frowned; I still felt that way, too—as if I could float away and forget about the world above, if I really wanted to.

It was unsettling, how dangerously alluring death could be.

“Let’s not get used to it,” I told him. “We have a job to do here. Nothing else.”

Phantom stood, giving his body a hard shake. He lifted his gaze to mine, expectant.

I adjusted the weight of the bag on my shoulders and set off, and he didn’t hesitate to follow.

“From a topographical standpoint, the dead world mirrors the living, in many ways,” I said to Phantom as we walked, reciting the lessons Orin had given me on the matter. “So we’ll follow the route east, just as if we were returning to Rose Point in the world above. That will hopefully lead us to the place where the Light King’s sword carved out a path for the rot of this realm to bleed through…”

Phantom trotted along beside me, mostly listening, though his ears occasionally perked and his hackles lifted at what I assumed were distant sounds too quiet for my own senses to pick up on.

My eyes darted all around us, scanning for landmarks I might be able to orient myself by. I was trying to maintain my optimism, to keep myself grounded in the knowledge that this place was only a reflection of where I came from; I wasn’t that far from home, really.

But the longer I studied it all, the more this particular swath of the Underworld seemed entirely removed from the living realm I’d left behind.

To my left, a great chasm split through the ground, wild and twisting, a murky ocean of dark fog and scattered wisps of white energy filling it. I veered farther and farther to the right as I walked, trying to put more space between myself and the chasm’s precarious edge, but that only led me to looming mountains with cracked and crumbling faces. There were piles of rubble at the base of these mountains, and stripped, gutted grooves that suggested prior landslides, making me hesitant to wander too close.

Despite the ominous surroundings, however, our journey proved uneventful for several miles—until I saw something moving out of the corner of my eye: Dark, shadowy bodieswith strands of gossamer white energy tangled like spiderwebs around them.

---