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Eirwyn raised his hand begging for mercy from the guards, to let him out, to let him be free. The Soup dripped off his cloak making him feel akin to Atlas himself as the things reached out again. The churn of the gates sound like church bells as his adrenaline carries him outside the walls. The blood rushing in his ears mixing with his rapid heartbeat sounded like thundering drums. Eirwyns feels the shadows fall over his face as he crosses to the other side, his legs giving out under the weight of the world. His lungs burn, begging for a breath instead he gags. But the liquid seeps deeper into his flesh and blood as he can feel the sensation of the hands tugging, pulling and ripping at his clothes.
For a moment, the sounds of heels clicking against the concrete fades into Eirwyns hearing. Something looms over him from behind, and like someone had rung a gong into his ears, a voice rings out, “Eirwyn?” Eirwyn flips himself over, crawling backwards as he hyperventilates, “Eirwyn are you alright?” He can barely even make out her outline as the world clears and fogs again and again, Kyra flinches back, a certain look on her face he can't quite place. Eirwyn glups trying to get words to come out but like honey they are stuck to the back of his throat as bees buzz around his head. Again, Kyra reaches out, she says something else but the ringing in his ears cuts her off. He squints trying to read her lips to figure out what shes saying but his efforts deem fruitless as he feels himself slipping again.
That is until her head jerks up, looking down the alley. He notices two things, the first, he wasn't out of this sick twisted maze of a city. Two, the creatures were back, but this time not made of soup but of black sicken sludge as they call out to them. They approach quicker than he could have thought, the two of them quickly overwhelmed. He pushes with everything hes got, hes stained with the black sludge as he screamed out as they seem to infect him. Finally he emerges stumbling, he looks back to Kyra, struggling as she points back to the others, still stuck on that side of the gate. She looks almost pleading.
But so is he.
For his mind wails to get out. To get out of the city. To get out of the dirty clothes. To get out of his own skin for a moment.
There has to be an out, an exit he can slip through. Somewhere he can slip through the cracks again. Within the blink of an eye, there are more of the black nightmareish sludge, they call out to him. He takes a deep breath and runs. As his heels clack against the cobblestone, trampling over whatever stood in his way, people or sludge alike.
His vision swirled as he saw a blink of a room. Bright white, gold and blue. In the center a man stands, hundreds of hands reaching for him, too far to touch him.
Eirwyn comes back to barreling through what he wishes was the blacken night sky.
Then again, back to the room, he notices as the man wears a white capetlet, a blue royal shirt, a brown belt and short white skirt. His eyes are closed. And yet the hands reach closer.
Eirwyn snaps back to someone yelping as hes knocked into them. He keeps running. For now, hes unsure what.
As he gasps for another breath, it gets closer to the mans face as he notices the golden antlers ontop of his head and great snowy owl wings expanding from his back.
Eirwyn trips over a bit of loose stone, yelping as he dodges another blacken mess.
The man is freckled like Eirwyn, as the hands almost reach the mans long cyan braid, the man opens his eyes. They strike him like lightning, pricing blue. But what startled Eirwyn the most was an unnatural shimmering golden halo that seemed to gleam in the mans eyes.
A set of words rattling his bones.
Sing for me song bird.
That was until Eirwyn ran face first into a wall. Stumbled back, he looked behind him to see if the thing was still following. The mass was far behind but quickly moving his direction. He looked at the wall in front of him. The building was old, a couple of bricks sticking out or broken and missing. He takes one look back, the darkness of the alley illuminating as the sun starts to make its way overhead. He jams his fingers into too small of hole as he pushes himself upward.
He watches as the whole city comes into view. He smiles as he feels its warmth again. He trips again as gets onto the roof. He takes in a deep breath, admiring the view as gentle breeze pushes through. For a moment he wonders if this is what it is like to fly like eagles high above everything else.
Then his eyes snap open again. Song bird? Again? Who would call him song bird? That must have been someone below cat-calling him. Theres been many a times men have tried to flirt with him thinkings he’s a lady. They are rather stunned when he responds.
Eirwyn shakes his head, clearing out the thoughts. But as he looks at the city again, he can’t help feel like a bird stuck in a cage. He can spot another set of gates not too far. Unfortunately, with how much goop he’s covered in, he doubts he’ll get out by asking this time. He sighs as he looks back into the alley, the sludge trying to claw its way up. He scowls at the thing. Maybe its best he stays up here until much farther out.
Carefully he tiptoes around the city from above. Watching preachers in the square trying to rival the merchants shouting out their wares. A paper boy trying to get into the mix but far too young to properly shout. A lady with her young children pass, tugging them along. A dog chasing down the street after a cat. He watches it all for a moment feeling apart of it and yet so far out from it all at the same time.
Before long hes made it to the outer wall. He notices a stray unguarded door. He scoffs at their negligence, or rather his luck. He leans against the door for a moment, when no footsteps make their appearance, he slowly slides along side the wall. This area of the wall seems awfully empty. Alarm bells ring, yet he pushes on. His breath hitches when he overhears two guards. Something about a group getting arrested. When their echos are long gone, he slips past, further down the halls. He must be at one of the corners, for when he makes it, a tower does rise but also a door, yet again unguarded. He simply shakes his head. When he attempted to open the door, a chain and lock rattle from the outside. He rolls his eyes, he hates to say hes done this more times than he can count. The metal handle starts to freeze over as he so commands it to do. It takes him a couple tries, but with a hard enough yank, he stumbles back with the swing of the door opening.
Thats when he hears shouting from down the hall, a guard points his direction. And so the game of the rabbit and hound begins. He flees, slightly picking up his skirt so he doesn’t trip this time. He runs into the woods for as long as he can, out running the city, its people and whatever sickening attitudes they held.
Eirwyn finally stops when he hears the sound of water flowing. A smile of hope creeps onto his face. The water is clear as it crashes over a waterfall. He throws care out the window as he grabs out his soap, setting his dirty garments over to the side, deciding to stay in his undergarments in case any wanders come by.
For a moment he sits in the waterfall, feeling as the water just almost crushes him under his weight, his hair slowly becoming wet. With a grand dive he jumps into the deep part of the river, opening his eyes as he looks under the water.
Next to him swims by a cod fish, swirling around him for a moment. It lets out a few bubbles of air, but he smiles as he holds his hand out. The cod fish swims ever closer until Eirwyns lungs remind him that he does need oxygen. He pushes his head above the water, blowing whatever water was in his nose out. He wipes down his face, checking to make sure his clothes are still there, which to no surprise they are. As he gasps for air, he plunges himself back underwater. He tries to look for his cod friend, only to realize the poor thing is long gone. With disappointment, he climbs back out of the water for the soap and his clothes, to begin the long process of washing the stains out.
The cod however swims on. For the little cod fish swims on a very long time. In between rivers it pushes on till it comes to a swamp. For there is slows in front of a murky cave opening.
A hand reaches out with its webbed fingers, able to complete wrap around the fish if the hand so tried too. Instead the cod nuzzles into the hand, “There you are Hubert. Its been a while hasn’t it?”
There the two beings share a moment of peace, of harmony. Until the humming voice suddenly stops, “You mean to tell me hes alive?”
Pink blonde hair drifts into the sparse sunlight as the being that is attached too emerges. The spare sunlight only catches one thing on the beings face, or rather mask, Piercing white eyes, “Hubert, please don’t lie to me. I don’t think my heart could take it. Swear to me he’s alive.”