The silence was eerie. The darkness seemed to have swallowed all that had life, for the only thing Sammael could hear was his own breaths. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean nobody else was there . . .or that nobody would be there.
Bringing up the hand that was not holding a sword, Sammael conjured a little ball of light that made his pale skin glitter. He knelt down at the bank and shot a wave of light just below the surface of the murky cave waters until it reached the other end. There didn’t seem to be anything lurking beneath.
He closed his eyes, and felt the soil. It was Darker and heavier here, but the shadows didn’t refuse his request for a path.
He didn’t need to reach the end of his shadow bridge for him to find what he was looking for. Or in this matter, who.
Chained in the darkest part of the cave where o moonlight could touch her was a woman. Her long, platinum hair that was once in glorious braids and crowned with silver leaves was now undone, here and there muddy. Her once glamorous dress of silk and gems now hung torn and tattered on her bruised and sickly body.
“Amaia!” Sammael ran to her and freed her from her chains with a swing of his blade. “We’re going home,” he said, as he gathered her weak form from the ground. He paused. Something wasn’t right.
Her face had a few twinkles from his light orb but after once or twice, her face barely glittered at all. Sammael gasped softly as he could see Amaia’s face closely. Her lips, as well as some parts of the skin on her face was cracked, like webbings on porcelain. Her long white lashes seemed to be heavier as she struggled to keep her eyes open.
“No,” he breathed.
Amaia rested her weak hand on his neck, as he placed his forehead on hers. With the last amount of strength she had, she smiled. And the last of her light faded.
Before Sammael could grieve properly, a growl rumbled from behind him. He lifted his tearful face. A chalk-white hand manifested from the Dark shadows. Bloodshot eyes glared at him from its pasty face, shark teeth gnashing.
The cave reverberated from the snarls. The creatures slowly crawled towards him–from the banks, the walls, even from above him.
Standing up, with her corpse at his feet, the creatures lunged. And Sammael’s purple eyes turned red.