Durak grabbed my hair, trying to throw me off his large form. With a shriek, I thrashed and scrabbled at his face and arms. If I could get his hands out of the way, I could seize the Elder Scroll, that had fallen out of our grappling hands as soon as I read it. All I could see, however, was that hateful Orc's face snarling inches from my nose. I managed to yank his arms behind his back, and viciously twisted his wrists, watching his face writhe in the effort to break free of my hold.
Suddenly, my head felt compressed in a vice. Clutching the sides of my head, I gritted my teeth in pain, feeling the pressure increase exponentially until my ears finally popped. Light headed, I tumbled off the Orc onto my rear end. Bones rattled when I landed, skittering across many others. Where did these come from? I thought, but Durak's feral growl had me on my feet. I tensed, preparing to block the swing of his fist, but the blow never came. Horrified, I watched his fist go right through me.
"What the hell?" he grunted, grasping and punching at my form to no effect. I grinned, snapping my hand out to box one of his ears, only to find I couldn't touch him either. Remembering the scroll, I looked around for it, examining the massive heap of bones in which we landed. It was nowhere to be found.
Sensing my intentions, the Orc stood right inside my body and searched through the bones himself. For a moment, I wondered why we were both able to touch the remains but not each other. Then, I actually looked at my hand. It was translucent. Green spriggan leaves still danced over my fingers, but I could see right through my hand into the world beyond. Like a ball of lead, my stomach dropped to my knees, falling right down to my feet when I realized where we were standing. Around me, the world swam in a horrifyingly vague familiarity of violet and gray. Stone monoliths dotted the landscape, and in my head I heard the faint whisper of nonsensical voices.
"Oh no. No. Not here again. Not here!" I cried, starting to panic as I remembered my last trip. What am I doing here! Am I dead? Oh gods, I'm going to be trapped here forever...
"Not here? Not there."
"...not anywhere..."
"Who said that!" growled Durak, "Was it you?" I shook my head in dawning terror.
A low chuckling seemed rise from the bones beneath us. Leaping away from the heap in surprise, I stared, wide-eyed about me, feeling utterly naked--vaguely, I realized that I actually was naked. I was ready to bolt, but I didn't know which way to run. "And here comes the wall. I know it'll come. This time I won't be able to turn away."
"Stop your sniveling." The Orc sneered at me in disgust.
"Don't you understand? We're trapped here!"
"Tch. Maybe you are. All I have to do is find the exit."
"There is no exit!"
"How would you know, little elf. You're not even living anymore. Look at you. Just a ghost."
"Because Valindor and I closed the portal weeks ago," I ground out. The laughter grew louder until it filled my head and shook the backs of my eyes.
"Show yourself," challenged the Orc, brandishing a fist.
He was not disappointed. A shadow passed over the ashen wasteland, stretching searching fingers across the bones and rocks. Slowly, it wound up the Dawnguard's legs, sinking into his flesh as he tried to beat the darkness away. Under a harsh language, he invoked the names of Aedra and Daedra, Stendarr and Malacath being the least among those called. The voice only chortled and its fingers whispered.
"Who are you calling?"
"Why are you falling?"
"Get off me! Get out of my head!"
"No one can hear you..."
"Good-bye. Adieu."
Durak fell to the ground and convulsed, frothing at the mouth and gnashing his tusks. Shrilly, he screamed at the sky. From his body leaked tendrils of energy that reminded me all too well of the glowing interiors of soulgems. They rose toward the endless black hollow, embedded in the sky like a tick.
I ran. I ran for all I was worth, my feet scarcely touching the gray sand. All I intended to do was get away, though I found myself heading for that damnable wall. Veering in the other direction, I headed for a large outcropping.
"Who are you?"
Shutting my eyes tightly, I mentally blocked out the voice, not wanting whatever had taken Durak's soul to find mine. They didn't find me last time. They won't get me this time.
"You are the running and funning one!"
Go away, I thought at the voice, not daring to utter the words aloud.
"Where are you going?"
"Are you flowing?"
When I reached the magic-eroded rock, I crouched behind it, even managing to halfway bury myself in the sand. Until I remembered the horrible feeling of something moving under the surface and struggled to free myself. Every movement I made seemed to suck me deeper into the soil, and I flailed, grasping at the smooth rock for purchase. Eventually, I heaved my way out of the ground, shaking in fear and wreaking of it.
"Ground is for the dead. Are you ready for bed?"
"His eyes are red."
"He is angry."
I didn't stop to think of who might be angry, for the laughter echoing over Durak's still body morphed into a windswept roar. In my head, I could feel it coming, knowing nothing could stop it from ripping my soul from me if it had a mind to do so. To my right, I spotted a mausoleum and half-ran, half-crept over to it. The gloomy sepulcher was, gratefully, empty and devoid of any bodies. In fact, nothing was inside. No chests, coffins, nor sarcophagi. No tombs or gravestones. Not even sand or broken twigs from the skeletal trees. It was as if someone constructed the place, then forgot about it. Or actively kept it empty.
Shivering, I tried to avoid looking at the walls, worrying they might close in at any moment. This place felt like a trap if there ever was one, but it was better than being out in the open. Outside, I heard the chattering voices pass by, brushing the edge of my mind as they did. I held my breath as they were followed by a bellow like a gale, though no wind blew and nothing around me moved. Just when I thought I would run out of air, I realized, a little belatedly, that I didn't actually need it. Unnerved, I forced myself to make breathing motions anyway. I'm not dead. I'm not dead.
"I'm not dead. I'm...what am I?" I whispered.
"I don't know. You look pretty dead to me."
I jumped, clapping my hands over my mouth to muffle the squawk of surprise and fear. Spinning, I turned to face the voice that had appeared behind me, backing up until I bumped into the wall. The stone was cold and strangely damp--"cloying" was the word that came to mind. To my dismay, there was no one there at first, and I feared the worst. In spite of my efforts, the demented presence found me, and now it was going to--
"That's not what I am," the voice said quietly. A body materialized. "Don't you recognize my voice anymore, Henny?"
"Derk?"
"Who else?"
"You remember me?"
"Of course, why wouldn't I?" The Argonian seemed genuinely perplexed at the notion.
Was it because I was a "ghost" that he could remember me? Because I was now like him? The soulgem. It turned me into this.
"You look different," he said, turning his head this way and that, "Though, I must admit, I'd have liked to see you this exposed while living. But that's not what I mean."
"I..."
"Why are you covered in leaves? You really have gone native haven't you!" My late friend laughed coarsely, his peg-like teeth gleaming transparently.
Still dumbstruck, I opened my mouth to speak--to tell him I was sorry and that I missed him and that I felt guilty--,but found it clicked shut as the dark presence suddenly drifted close to my hiding place. Derkeethus crouched, pressing me into a corner and staying utterly still. The chattering spirits entered the building, floating aimlessly around as they brushed the insides of my skull.
"Where are you hiding?"
"What are you riding?"
"Come out..."
"He is waiting!"
When they left, I found my wits at last. "What are those things and what do they follow?"
"Henny, listen to me, and listen quickly. You have to get out of here. That thing takes souls. It eats them, and when they come back out, they don't remember anything for a while. Then, once their memories come back, it finds them and devours them once more. Only, they don't remember as much the next time."
"Is that what happened to you?"
The Argonian regarded the floor bitterly. "I don't remember what water feels like. Or the taste of fish. Or the name given to me by my clan. I don't remember what being a hatchling was like--what one even is. It's just a word in my head that I can't explain."
"I'm sorry. Listen. I'll get you out of here, I promise."
"No, don't it's not--"
"Found you talking."
"Found you walking!"
"They are here, my dear!"
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