Chapter 9

(for those who *usually* read these "chronicles": I am sorry for this long absence. But school works and exams stole my time to write this kinda stuff. They aren't gone yet; still, I will continue as I can. For the few of ya who sent nice words for me: thanks. I do this for you.)

The great army of demons stood in the wide, fertile field of Hynduil River, in front of Denna Gammidge's the heavy doors, laying siege on Aznaghal's capital city. There were thousands of them, their weapons ready to the slaughter, their bloodthisrty gaze fixed on the top of the city walls. Behind the demonic lines, powerfull ebony ballistas and catapults were being loaded, to strike upon the surrounded city with frag flaming bombs and burning arrows. Inside the walls, the remaining warriors of the king's defeated army ran through the burning streets and took defensive positions along the walls. They still believed someone might come for help them - minotaurs, dwarves, angels - perhaps even the elves.

One of the demons crossed the lines and walked towards the city doors. He stopped, halfway between their fellows and the walls, holding a black standart in one hand, and a strange lightning sword in the other. He wore a heavy armor, shining with the morning sun's light. He looked for the top of the walls and shouted:

"I am the shadow that rose from hell to consume this world!" His loud voice echoed through the wide plains. "These are the minions of darkness that came to despoil these lands! We are the deathbringers that ascended from the depths to claim this wretched world in the name of the Underworld!"

The first rays of the morning sun entered through the window's fences, pushing away the darkness left by the night. She blinked once, and twice, feeling in her face the soft heat of the morning light. She sat on her bed and stood still for a while. It must be a radiant morning outside; she could feel it, though her eyes saw only darkness. She smiled; yet the dream she had still haunted her, disturbing her mind. A vision, a terrible future approaching as the sun rose up in the blue skies, and only her blind eyes could see its face.

She pushed aside the blankets and rose from the bed. She got herself dressed, the same red irregular skirt and the night-black tunic she wore for years and years. She could no longer see her clothes' colors; still she could remember the time she stared at herself on the mirror and saw how nice her green eyes and milky white hair looked with that colors... She sighed. How ironic, she could see things no one else could, and the mere sight of the most trivial things was forbiden to her, since that day lost in the time when she ran away from a long forgotten war and entered this world... a war her blind eyes could see again, as if it was about to be fought... once more.

She grabbed her walking stick - a strange artifact made of ebony with a ivory ring on its top, and some multicolored crystals incrusted on it. The dream was still behind the darkness of her mind's eye. It was not present - just another mirage that might come true, as her dreams always come true.

A sudden rush could be heard somewhere in the house. She heard steps behind the door, and someone opening it. A small goblin entered the room and stared at her with the smile his mouth allowed.

"Ya need me, sybil?"

"Yes, Lorg, I do. Good morning", she answered, smilling. "Here, take my hand. I wanna go outside."

"Rigthy away!" The goblin approached and got her hand. Slowly, he took her out of the room and through the house's exit door. Suddenly she felt the sunlight warming her pale skin, illuminating the darkness ever present in her eyes.

"Describe me what you see, Lorg", she asked. "The morning."

"Well", the small goblin started, "It's the dawnbreak. The sun makes snowblind on the snow-covered hills. The sky's blue, and everything's shinin'."

Her lips formed a genuine smile, as if she could indeed see what he roughly described from where they stood, in the top of Ambeon, the independent goblin city in the North, right in the border that separated the kingdom of Aznaghal from the barren, frozen wastelands of the mountains. Taking a long, deep breath of the cold morning air, she said:

"Lorg, I need you to come with me."

"Where to, sybil?", he asked, curious.

"To Denna Gammidge", she answered. "To see the king. I... must talk to him."

"Another of your dreams?" She nodded and said nothing. "Well", he said, scratching his head and his stomach, "that's a lotta ground to cover on foot. Better tell Krag to come with us. And get food."

"You do that", she said, smiling at him. "It's a good idea."

"Then, excuse me, sybil". He tred to be polite, as she tried to taught him. "Gonna look for him and get the stuff ready to go."

Without a word, she returned to the door's threshold and sat, feeling in her skin every little bit of the radiant morning, as the goblin walked down the street to find his friend and prepare things for the long trip they were about to take.