Erieal Thorneal

                                                                        Erieal Thorneal

                   
      As the twin moons raced across the predawn sky the few fleeting threads of light remaining  danced across the smooth rock floor; black, almond shaped eyes, on this particular night, caught the first sliver of morning twilight tint, an eerie shade of purple, drowning out the last bit of night with the ominous day looming on the horizon. One lone traveler ventured his way across the fiery plane trying to beat the sun before it rose and began its way across the sky.       
    The ill-famed Waste Lands, known as the Labrakius Planes, were infamous for the ability to flambé even the largest of creatures in a matter of minuets. The most terrifying and most agnostic death one could imagine. Terror, panic, and desperation set in as blood begins to boil and expand in the veins, followed by the escaping steams as it bursts capillaries and then hisses as it vents through pores. Smoke from singeing hair and vented pores are only smelt for a fleeing second just before sinuses are fried. The oily residues of melted body fat begin to boil. Final visions are that of your body being consumed by lapping flames as you spontaneously combust.  Charred remains, transmuting to the very stone that make up this god-forsaken place for all of eternity, entomb your conscious soul as you fossilize, in a matter of hours.
    “Twenty minuets till the sun peeks its head over the distant Xia Mountains and the roasting begins. Thirty-five at this pace before I can make it to the bluffs and enter the bearable transitional grasslands of the Eastern Xia Province. I better pick up the pace some if I am to make it on time.” The strange and out of place traveler thought to himself as he tightened his pack and began to double-time his steps.
    His tan robes wagged in the breeze of his quickened pace. For it’s size, his five foot four inch frame moved rather swiftly across the glazed floor of Labrakius. Purple and blue bands of light danced and curled across the sky while flicks of orange, yellow, and red seemed to swim through them. Heart beating fast, a quickened breathe, and the pad of his own feet scurrying, was all the lone traveler could hear. Intent on purpose, and focused on his goal, he neither could hear nor see anything else. He ran for nearly eighteen minuets by his count of steps and still he had a ways to go.
    The first breath of hot air could be felt as the sky grew lighter and lighter with every step he took. The traveler dug deep within him self and gathered all the fortitude he could and poured every ounce of energy he could muster in sprinting the remaining distance. He could feel every breath getting warmer and warmer and begin to hurt as his lungs and sinus cavities began to heat up with the on coming day.
    “I fear your judgement to be erroneous,” his subconscious whispered to him, his conscious mind ignoring its own inner self. He could see the grass only a few hundred yards away and remained steadfast in his goal.
    Warmer and warmer, grew the air.
    Faster and faster the solitary traveler ran heart pounding harder and harder. His goal approaching steadily quicker with every step.
    Warmer and warmer, brighter and brighter . . .
    Each breath more painful than the last.
    Warmer and warmer, brighter and brighter . . .
    The smooth floor of Labrakius began to steam as the dew from the night air heated and began to evaporate.
    Warmer and warmer, brighter and brighter . . .
    Advancing closer and closer he could clearly make out the shape of each plant on the closest edge of the grass lands.
    Warmer and warmer, brighter and brighter . . .
    Among some of the shrubs a man shape figure could be seen couching close to the ground.
    Warmer and warmer, brighter and brighter. . .
    One final breath and a searing excruciating pain washed through his chest. As he dug deep for his last bit of energy, blackness washed over the lone tracker as he closed his eyes and pressed forward.
    From the shrub line, a set of gold eyes watched in disbelief as the robed figure seemed to skate across the ground, tan robes furling in the breeze behind it. In a sudden burst of energy the form seemed to take flight as it leaped the last few yards to the safety of the transition line. With a heavy thump the huddled mass of robes and flesh lie motionless and smoldering.
The solitary traveler awoke knowing he had survived. Next to him was a young woman staring at him with ominous gold eyes that shown nothing of what she was thinking and reflected back to him all that he projected.
    “I am Tirak.” she said offering him a much needed drink of water“Well met Tirak. I have come from long and far to find you and give you information of the utmost importance. What I have you will find to be of grave merit. For now I must rest. Tomorrow we shall reconvene our chamber. My name is Erieal Thorneal.”