"Dreams of Darkness - Chapter 1" by Marisha Forrestine Parker

Birdsong rang through the trees, the trickling of a stream ran nearby, and the soft, dark earth sprouted flowers like a carpet. The forest seemed to softly sing, peaceful and alive. Ojika lay at the base of a tree, his monk's hat pulled down over his sharp, dark eyes. Slowly slipping into unconsciousness, he felt like there was nothing at this moment that could improve his life. An ultimate serene feeling permeated his mind. Softly he pushed his hat back up to his head. Life was too wonderful right now to sleep through it. Surprising agile for his large size, he jumped to his feet and deftly climbed up a tree. Clearing the leaves at the top, he could see for miles where the mountains didn't block the way. The terrain was varied, from small rolling hills to soaring mountains to deep valleys with rivers running through. As he gazed around, his eyes fell upon a small clearing about a mile away. A thin ribbon of smoke spiraled up from the clearing. Surprised, Ojika peered at it. It was rare for anyone human to be in this forest. Ojika was the only one who'd visited it in years. His curiosity perked, he climbed to the ground and immediately set off in the direction of the campfire.

The mile was covered quickly in Ojika's long stride. Nearing the clearing, he could see some movement through the trees. By pushing aside a couple branches, he could see clearly. A tiny cooking fire was sputtering faintly, and surrounding it were various cooking utensils and dishes. A bedroll lay by the fire, and someone stepped into sight to pick it up. He was lanky and tall, though not as tall as Ojika. He had brilliantly white hair, and was dressed in what looked like the clothes of some noble or another; strange for wandering around in the wilderness. The man looked around thirty years old, and as Ojika watched in concealed silence, the man spoke in a smooth, lilting voice,

"I know you're there. It's no use hiding." He turned around and looked straight at Ojika. Ojika rose from his crouch and stepped clear of the bushes. Regarding him with appraisal, he said,'

"Well met, sir. You're very good. How did you know I was there?"

The other man smiled, with a flicker of pride in his eyes.

"The trees sang it to me."

Ojika didn't know what he meant by that, but he didn't let it daunt him. He held out his hand.

"I'm Ojika, and you are...?"

The man gripped his hand and shook it.

"Javelin. Would you like to join me? I'm heading north to Bone Valley."

Ojika considered and replied,

"Well, I don't think I have much else to do. Tell me, what business takes you to Bone Valley?"

Javelin gathered up the various things around the fire while answering.

"Nothing impending. I heard rumors of an old ruin there that I'd like to explore. Archeology is something of an art with me."

As Ojika nodded in acknowledgment, a slight breeze started, but it didn't stay slight for long. It grew to a howling wind that twisted and spiraled around the camp. The fire danced violently and furiously. A voice in the wind made Ojika look at Javelin, for he stood dead still, without a sound. The expression on his face was one of concealed anger.

"Javelin?"

Javelin's eyes darted to Ojika, and he seemed to relax slightly. The howling wind dropped to a soft mutter, then disappeared. As Ojika watched him, Javelin smiled and hefted his pack, obviously pretending that nothing had happened.

"Shall we be off?"

Ojika kept his eyes on Javelin curiously, but nodded.

They set out immediately. The morning was sunny and mild, and nothing hindered them. Even though Ojika's stride was long and quick, Javelin had no trouble keeping up. He seemed to be bouncing on the air, for all hi s spryness, and he confidently led the way. Through idle conversation, Ojika learned that Javelin came from the West, and spent his time exploring ancient civilizations and religions. He didn't have any family, and spent most of his time alone. Ojika believed him, but he could tell that there was more to Javelin's journeys than was told. As for Ojika, he told Javelin of his journeys through forest and woodland without any direct purpose. Javelin seemed disturbed by this.

"How can you not have a purpose?"

Ojika looked at him.

"Well, it's very easy. I just say to myself, ‘I'm going to wander around for no good reason whatsoever,' and go by it."

"But you will never get anywhere if you don't have a destination."

"I don't need to get anywhere at the moment."

Javelin darted a look at Ojika.

"There's always somewhere to go."

"That's doesn't mean I have to go there. Life is pretty relaxed for me." Just then, Ojika caught a flicker of irritation in Javelin's mind that began growing. He quickly got off the topic and made a comment about the weather. The spark swiftly died, leaving Ojika wondering. He had learned this about people: that whatever annoys them about someone else is what they're annoyed about in themselves. How could relaxation be something bad in Javelin's life? Perhaps he felt insecure if he wasn't up and doing something. Perhaps he though unproductivity was a sign of weakness. Ojika could only wonder.

It took them a couple days to get to Bone Valley, during which, Ojika and Javelin had become friends. They were both familiar with traveling and enjoyed listening to each others' adventure stories. Their personalities were very different, however. Javelin's manner was quick, abrupt, and to-the-point. Ojika, on the other hand, enjoyed maintaining an aura of quiet mystery, and always thought before he reacted. Together, they made quite a formidable team.

Upon reaching the ruins Javelin spoke of, Ojika looked around him. It had been a while since he'd been there, but nothing had changed much. Broken pillars and stone walls were strewn about randomly, and vines and trees had invaded the old city like a green army. The whole place was very beautiful and very desolate. Ojka looked at Javelin, who had an attitude of dark excitement.

"Where to from here, Javelin?"

Javelin looked at him and replied,

"Follow me."

They took a couple steps into the ruins, and suddenly the silence broke. A powerful, howling wind crashed into them from behind. It pummeled them mercilessly. Ojika shouted to Javelin,

"Let's get behind something!"

He saw Javelin's nod, and stepped behind a fallen pillar. A moment later, Javelin was next to him, anger apparent on his face. He seethed,

"What can the wind-" he was cut short when wind from the opposite direction ripped the words out of his mouth and plastered them both to the pillar, roaring furiously. With great effort, Ojika pushed away from the pillar a little ways and looked at Javelin. He had his eyes closed, his hands together, and appeared to be chanting something. The wind pushed against Ojika, but he didn't move; he had to see what Javelin was doing. As Javelin chanted, a light seemed to spring from him, and he opened his eyes . A ball of light formed around him, and within the ball, he was untouched by the wind. In a flash, the shield expanded, enveloped Ojika, spread ever farther, then vanished. The wind was gone. Ojika stared at Javelin.

"What was THAT?"

Javelin didn't answer, but brushed past Ojika and continued on. Ojika watched him. Javelin was filled to the brim with anger, but it wasn't directed at Ojika, so Ojika followed him. Javelin walked in silence for about fifteen minutes, before stopping at a flight of stairs going down into the ground. Ojika approached him less-than-gently.

"What was that wind, and what was it after? Who are you? There's much more to this than you told me, isn't there." It wasn't a question.

Javelin tried to smile.

"I guess it's just some old trouble come to bother me."

Ojika grabbed his arm and stared at him threateningly.

"Tell me, Javelin."

Javelin's eyes narrowed, and he yanked his arm away.

"I'm busy." With that, he started going down the stairs. Ojika debated on following him, but decide if the wind was up where he was, he could find the source there as well. Looking around, he could see only what he expected: broken pillars, crumbled walls, and overgrown gardens. He also saw many stairways leading downward, identical to the one Javelin had gone down. Sensing disappointment from Javelin's mind, below, Ojika smirked, figuring he hadn't gotten the one he was looking for. Quickly, he went down a nearby flight of stairs, lunging headfirst into the darkness. As he entered, he felt a sudden burst of wind, and the door slammed shut behind him. Ojika cried out and whirled around to try the door, but it was shut tightly. A faint light from crumbled bricks in the ceiling allowed Ojika some light, so he turned to get a good look at his surroundings.

To Be Continued...