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If only we could travel back in time,
Right where we belong
maybe we’ll never need a reason why
We danced until the dawn
The dungeon halls felt quite as the group shuffled to the top of the decayed, crumbled and rooted structure. Katie held her sword close to her chest, as if it would stop her heart hammering out her armour.
~~~
“K-Katie.”
Nom shuddered as white twisted vines, his once almond brown eyes that matched Katie’s were now a harsh amber. His bones creaked loudly as he wiped the tears off her cheeks, wincing as the poison he downed with haste began to burn his throat.
“I’m gonna be alright,”
He whispered to her as the vines seeped into pale moss that littered the ground. Katie glanced over at Sausage, who was in the same situation, but smiled through it with joy as he muttered about being the perfect vessel. He was further gone than Nom it seemed, striking Cam as he got too close and freezing like a statue when someone watched him, his face distorted into an uncanny wooden stare.
“Have you seen sausage? It’s not gonna alright.”
She sobbed before yelping as the spikes of Nom’s gauntlets slammed into her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, i’m so sorry, im so unbelievably sorry Phee.”
He whispered over and over, Katie felt her wings flutter small flames within her armour at the use of her childhood nickname.
“I’m going to come save you.”
She muttered trying to pull herself together.
“Katie, no. The creaking king is an entity stronger than any war you’ve fought in-“
Nom pleaded before she cut him off.
“It’s not up for debate.”
She spoke so sternly. Looking away as Nom searched for her eyes through the bark that began to crawl up his face.
“I’ll see you soon Katie.”
The vines warped and tangled around the two vessels until it plunged into the withered white moss beneath her boots. Kitty held her hand, leading her towards the button everyone huddled around. With a deep breath and connected spirits, every hand pressed down onto the button, each person plunged into their own darkness.
~~~
The open roof of the dungeon felt bare, as her eyes adjusted to the light she felt the flower mage tense from behind her and mutter a question plead for it all to be a dream. In front of her was a stranger wearing her brothers face, a body that belonged to someone she knows but the grin was all wrong. His dimples didn’t appear with the smile, his hollow amber eyes stared through her soul as if it could communicate to her, but the only thing Katie could understand from the hollow expression was
im sorry.
“Oh Nom..”
She whispered. Within the blink of an eye swords were drawn, arrows swooshing through the air twirling in sync with arcane bolts and thorns.
The vessel with Nom’s face and familiar voice broke a glass bottle with it’s withered hand. A vile of weakness, letting the potion pour through each crack of wood that formed over his skin.
The attacks grew stronger than each kingdom member was prepared for, Lady Eloise barely caught Ser Bek with a windstorm before she slipped off the edge. Owain shielded Kitty with his back from a white vine that came thundering towards her head.
A similar amber resin began to leak out from within Nom’s tree like body. Yelling out in agony as the resin trickled out his body with each strike he absorbed. Katie raised her sword and began slicing at the white vines that kept Nom’s rotting bark in place. Breaking the ties that chained him to a foolish deal he made out of haste.
Swirling winds kicked up as each vessel began to loose their power, Katie clutched onto her pale sage skirt, feeling her heart shatter as a crumpled, aged drawing of two youthful knight flew from her pocket across the dungeon floor. Landing in front of Nom.
“Phee.”
He whispered, his voice was distorted with creaks and crackled of oak wood. Speaking like a child discovering something new for the first time,
She sniffed, feeling globs of tears fall down her face watching her brother fall apart. Similarly, a flower mage held her brother. Holding the slipping pieces together as if the problems they faced can be solved by wildflower petals and broken hopes.
~~~
The picture sat framed beneath a willow tree, dandelions scattered around it’s roots with a lone tombstone. Fresh patches of wildflowers dotted around beneath the cover of willow leaves, sometimes blue slime found on the stony surface. Or a pink blossom, piece of string, a collection of books stacked tall with the same handwriting, a year between each date etched on the cover. And on the stone it read,
here lies Nominal gravy