You are the Voice

[moonshadows]

            A thread is calling me. A thread of light, winding through the dark chaos I inhabit. It seeks me out no matter where I move, and touches me. It entices, promises things that are good to eat. I am intrigued; nothing like this has ever happened before. The thread comes from a very long way off; I take the end of it into myself and chew on it thoughtfully. The energy is delicate and exotic, promising and pleading. I move along the thread slowly, absorbing it as I go. It tastes of tiny little voices, a thousand voices calling my name with devotion and admiration.

            I follow the thread for a very long time, eating it as I move slowly towards its origin. I leave the edges of my territory, then the entire region I am familiar with. There is a pang of uncertainty; will I be able to find my way back? I shrug it off. Wherever I end up, I will make a new lair there. The thread takes me through regions that are strange to me. Fields of reds and oranges that I pass through like smoke, with little creatures flickering by like thoughts. Seas of blue and green that I drift through like ink, small condensed creatures scattering at my approach. Areas of solid matter that I phase through, still eating that shining silver thread and pulling myself along it.

            The thread grows stronger as I follow it, and the delicate, exotic taste also grows stronger. I pass through whole worlds of varied colors, shapes moving through them in sharp bursts or simply drifting slowly. Finally, I come to a patch of inviting darkness that smells like my lair. The thread leads into the concentrated clump of chaos and darkness; I attempt to follow and am blocked. Instead of simply phasing through it, the thread somehow turns and passes into a solid realm. If I wish to continue to the thousand tiny voices that are calling me, I must condense myself into a solid shape.

            I stop just outside the dark cluster of chaos and consider. If I condense myself, I will be subject to the influence of the native entities in this realm. The freedom to exist outside and separate will be denied to me, and I’m not sure I want to make myself vulnerable like that. The thread – now a ribbon – seems to sense my hesitation and grows brighter, begging me to come through and make my lair among the thousand little voices. The ribbon grows thicker, opening a little hole in the thick lump of feels-like-home, and a little reluctantly, I squeeze myself through and condense, emerging into the solid realm.

            SNAP!

            Rage. I lash out and touch nothing; I am not condensed enough to physically impact against the little voices, but my substance phases through them and they shriek in mindless fear. That clump of chaos and darkness that had looked so inviting snapped shut around me, joining with me, inserting itself into me. Tying me to this world. I condense further, just solid enough to interact with the filthy little voices that lured me here and trapped me, but without taking a set shape. Lashing out, I swat half of them into walls where they slump and do not move. The rest bolt, and I follow like fear solidified, flooding the stone corridors and overtaking them one by one. A handful burst out into the light of day and run shrieking down the hill, and I let them go. The ones remaining have much to answer for and I seep back inside, pulling my substance back slowly towards the center of this stone maze. I suck the sweet bits out of each body before I pull back beyond it, leaving a trail of dead flesh to mark where the little creatures tried to flee.

            The bulk of my substance returns to the center chamber where the foreign intrusion keeps me pinned, and in rage I shred the bodies until they are splattered all over the walls, floor, ceiling . . .

            And the one living being standing straight and unafraid before me, the only one untouched by my power. There is a hard glow centered in his throat, and the intrusion will not let me harm this one. I condense into a solid form twice his height and four times his mass, all hard spikes and smooth armor.

            “Welcome.” The word vibrates through me, through the intrusion that sits inside of me, pinning me to this world.

            “You are the voice.” My words echo and resonate, and the intrusion somehow vibrates in tune with the hard, glowing point in him.

He laughs. “Yes, I am the Voice.” He names the glowing part, and I can feel the truth of it.

“You are the one who opened the way.” He inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Why?” My substance starts agitating inside the shell I have made around myself.

“You are a hunter. This world has prey.” It’s obvious he is offering me his assistance.

“You trapped me here!” I writhe, trying to separate myself from the anchor that holds me here.

“I can show you how to seal the Eightfold Rune and leave this place.” His voice is calming, soothing. I settle back into one shape, closer to his size. “You can seal the Rune and leave any time you want, by returning here and doing the things I show you. But now that you are here, I can help you track down the ones that escaped so that you may kill them. I can show you the power the Eightfold gives you.”

I eye him warily, but am mollified. I can leave. I am not trapped here forever. And the prospect of forcing this intrusion to obey me is a pleasing one.

“I am Yhkvyr.” The word is a lesser form of my name, but the echoes that make it sound closer to the true pronunciation reach him through the Eightfold Rune. He smiles.

“I know.”