The third chapter from my WIP novel, Home.
The carriage rocked from side to side, each turbulent beat sending waves of discomfort rifling through its passengers. It was packed to the brim with all sorts of travellers; none of whom Aurora recognised. She was thankful for this, although admittedly somewhat concerned by that fact. Never before had she been surrounded by so many unfamiliar faces. Where had they all come from? She hadn’t seen them at the inn last night. That either meant that they’d travelled to the encampment under the guise of nightfall, or there was someplace else to stay at the encampment. Someplace Aurora hadn’t seen.
Today was unusually quiet, Aurora thought. Usually, the sound of hoofbeats echoing in that nigh incessant rhythm of theirs tired Aurora after only a bell’s travel, but today, she could barely hear them. Come to think of it, she couldn’t hear them at all. Momentarily amused by the fact that a lay traveller’s carriage provided the comfort of peace whilst her estate’s own, which she guesstimated to have likely cost several times the price of this one, did not. She figured it may have very well been the materials each respective carriage was fashioned from. She knew them to have the same oaken base, though, as nobles were wont to do without need, her estate’s carriage was adorned with numerous plates of gold and silver. Perhaps those materials conducted sound much better than oak alone? For a moment, she wondered what other benefits there were to being a layman. ‘Not having to chase deceitful parents half-way across the world to claim that which is rightfully yours,’ Aurora mused in her mind, letting out a soft sigh of frustration. A sudden violent rise and fall of the carriage brought Aurora’s mind back to the present, and she took care to brace herself lest she fell from her seat.
When the carriage had recovered and returned to its usual, turbulent-but-steady pace, Aurora reached out to tug her pack closer to her. Though it seemed rather spacious, with two long benches sat opposite one another, each with enough space to seat six or seven comfortably, Aurora felt as though there were at least twice the carriage’s usual capacity here today. Most of these passengers appeared bunched up together, with nary an inch between them. She could readily tell by their garbs who was familiar with who, and who was just being intrusive. Thankfully, she’d gotten a seat by the only window in the carriage, for she’d perched herself at the far end of the bench. This meant that she wasn’t wedged in between two people.
Luckily for Aurora, the passenger next to her tried their very best to respect her personal space, and, so, whilst she wasn’t comfortable per se, she knew she was better off than most of the other passengers. Brushing the carriage’s curtain aside, Aurora took care to hold it so that the outside light did not feed through and disturb the passengers beside her. This was her favourite thing to do when travelling - watch the outside world roll on by. The view of the mountains from the path was familiar to her. Though the mountain peaks rose high and obscured most of the sunlight that would otherwise illuminate - and likely blind - the mountain trail, enough light penetrated the aggregations of rock and stone to allow Aurora to enjoy the view, at the very least. This side of the mountain adjacent to her appeared much smoother than she recalled. The path was surprisingly smooth, too. The turbulence had since given way, and, at least for the time being, the journey actually felt comfortable. Much to Aurora’s surprise, it lasted for some time. Aurora figured that, in the unlikely event that she was willing to sleep, she could probably rest her head against the carriage’s wall and do so.
Of course, that meant leaving herself vulnerable in the midst of strangers. That was not the only reason she wanted to stay awake, however. She’d also miss her favourite part of the journey. Approximately two hours into the carriage clearing its first ravine, the mountainside on this side gave way and, in its absence, a vast, open glade came into view. They were soon approaching, Aurora knew. It always surprised her, and intrigued her, how good her intuition was. She always knew - she always felt - when she was a few moments away from approaching the clearing. There wasn’t a particular change nor shift in the scenery predicating it. The mountainside didn’t look any different, and there was no distinct indicator or landmark to cause Aurora to anticipate it. Maybe it was just her internal clock that had acclimatised itself to the length of the journey; perhaps, much like it knew to wake her at specific times, it also knew what she looked forward to, and didn’t want it to miss her. All in all, it wasn’t clear why she knew. She just did. Thinking back on it, she usually felt quite restless at this point in the journey. Two hours on a carriage was enough to cause great discomfort, but today, she was surprisingly comfortable. She didn’t at all feel as though the journey had taken nearly as long as it usually did. Then, something struck her.
There was an indicator that predicated the clearing, though it was only apparent when the sun was high, like it was today. If the sun wasn’t being obscured by a cloudy overcast, then the last few moments before the clearing appeared offered a somewhat consistent glow, apparent by the way the smooth rocks reflected the trail against their reflective surface. Yes, Aurora knew, there were some lapses in sunlight where rocks up above must have protruded, extending from the mountainside, but today, those lapses were far more frequent than usual. Had the mountains suffered a collapse in the year since she’d been here? She figured that was improbable.That would have posed danger to travellers, and would have necessitated the temporary closure of the mountain trail. The more they advanced, the more frequently those lapses in light occurred. Eventually, the light had dimmed, and a shadow had cast itself over the carriage and mountains. Was something obscuring the sun? Her fellow passengers’ chatter had ceased. Aurora felt a violent chill penetrate the carriage, causing her to hug herself for a moment. The turbulence had returned, though she knew it wasn’t due to the path becoming uneven. Strong buffets of wind caused the carriage to rock and tumble. She heard the Jamals groan and bleat, their convictions wavering in the wake of the tumultuous weather. Aurora had never experienced weather like this on her travels. Beyond that, it was all so sudden. Filled with trepidation, she looked up, trying to catch a glimpse of the sky up above. All she could see was the side of the mountain.
At once, a bellowing shriek filled the mountains, the thunderous roar causing Aurora to clasp her hands over her ears whilst she flinched. She felt tremors rumble the ground, and she braced herself and her pack, lest she keel over and fall against the passenger to her left. Aurora’s heart began to thud, and, as the mountainside gave way, revealing the vast, open glade whose deciduous trees were in full bloom, Aurora turned her gaze heavensward. What she saw in that moment filled her with curiosity -- a curiosity that mortified her when realisation dawned. Usually, the sun high above the meadows reflected the greenery below, casting a tranquil, virescent light upon the glade’s surface. Today, the glade was bathed instead in a deep azure, its grass appearing as though it were fashioned from a sapphire silver as it swayed to and fro in the violent winds. The skies, usually filled with eagles cresting the mountain peaks, were emptied. It appeared as it was: picturesque brilliance. High above the empyrean sky, Aurora saw a tremendously large beast appear over the horizon, accompanied by a bellowing roar. It swooped somewhere beyond the peaks, its deep and rich azure scales reflecting the radiant light, bathing the entirety of the region beneath its majesty. For a moment, the world and all of its inhabitants must have basked in its resplendent grace.
With each flap, violent winds stirred; trees threatened to keel over, rocks turned to rubble, and the carriage rocked. It dove downwards with tremendous speed, its head reared towards the far-end of the glade. It soared through the open skies, ceasing its downwards spiral once it was but a distance from the mountains’ icy peaks. It flew low enough that, although she could not make out its finer details, she saw its scaled wings and huge talons. Those might have drawn most people’s attention, but Aurora was instead drawn to one thing and one thing only: those scarlet, rage-filled eyes whose depths burned with a pure, unadulterated hatred. She held her breath as its majestic flight took it soaring past the glade and beyond the far mountains. She figured its path must have taken it along the trail. Though it was now out of sight, tumultuous winds left in its wake, Aurora heard the sound of crashing akin to an avalanche of rocks falling from a tremendous height. Had the mountain caved in somewhere? All fell quiet, ‘til a foreboding voice pierced the silence. Aurora wasn’t sure where it came from, but it echoed in her mind, again and again,
Dahag