Cynthia Clark

Only the waterfall where we bathed, and the tree line surrounding it gave way to the area once being a mountainside. After we passed it there was nothing for miles. I could feel Hero's eyes upon me and I knew he worried, yet this had to be done. I was so lost in thought and held such fear, and even determination, I had no wish to stop. The horses knew where to find water, and they would drink without us getting off. Darkness was falling upon us when we saw a tiny cabin. The roof had caved in, and the floor boards of the porch were haphazardly laying one top of another. There was no noise, no sound, not even a bird in the sky. If it was not too bad on the inside perhaps we could lay our heads there this night. Slowly we entered after sidestepping all the rubble, weapons at the ready just in case. It smelled of rotted flesh, and no wonder. In the rocking chair sat what was left of a man. He was mostly skeleton, hollow eye sockets and tufts of hair scattered here and there over a few fleshy skull parts. He must have shot himself in the bottom of the mouth and the shot went up through his brain. His skull was cracked, well, more like broken in several places. Poor soul, to end his life that way. Perhaps he feared the Cleansing, and the death that would bring him. Hero slowly went into the other room, and tried to keep me out, but it was not happening. Upon the bed lay three little girls. Their bodies were the same shape as the mans, but they had little dresses on. It was hard to guess their ages, and I did not want too. They had been shot as he had. Huddled in a corner was a skeleton, must have been the mother. Was she cowering while her little ones were being shot? Why did she not try to stop him instead of cowering? I could not finish that thought. She held something, hiding something. Tears left my eyes. I was angry, berating the poor woman for being a coward, yet she was trying to protect her baby. She had been shot, but the baby had not. With her death, it could not get the nourishment it needed. It would have been better perhaps if it had been shot. We left them as they were, and we both prayed for their souls, and that they should find strength in God's arms.

"Shadows, shadows everywhere, my soul I must find. Help me please, help me else, I lose my mind." The voice was almost a whisper. Was it in my head? I eased my eyes open, and I was met by darkness. It took me a few turns of my mind to remember how I arrived in this situation. The Father had sent me, I remember that. I was led here, I remember that. The last thing I remember was being overwhelmed by a deep fear. I struggled and a dirty rag was held to my nose. I did not quite recall what the smell was. Was this the same day? Had the sun turned to the moon or was it the next one? Oh, I could not think, my head was in such a whirl. "Shadows, shadows everywhere, I must find my heart, is it near, or to be found many miles apart? No, it was not coming from my head, but a whispered voice nearby. "Hello? Are you there? Another voice from across the room. "No, I am not here, I am there." That was the same voice. Oh, if only there was some light. I thought to wander around check out my surroundings, but would that be wise? Should I wander aimlessly, tripping over who and what? Anything could possibly be in this room if it was even a room. My head was in terrible shape. I felt around and guessed that I was on a mattress of some sort. The smell was terrible, and when I removed my hand it came away sticky. "If I chase the shadows to and fro, do you think the Loon Keeper will let me go?" I wanted to tell her to shut up. She was indeed getting on my nerves, but I did not. Perhaps she was unable to stop. Perhaps she really did belong here. Either way, it was too much for me to handle at the moment. Trying to stand did not help any. I think my feet and legs had fallen asleep. I flopped back down, and almost missed the mattress. It was further down than I thought, which meant it was almost on the floor. I lay my head back, stretched my legs and toes. The tingling was terrible, but it must be done. At once what sounded like thousands of little whispers were located all around the room and I grasped my head. This was terribly annoying. "Stop, stop, please stop." I did not say it aloud, but I wished too. "Your name, your name, tell us, dear, your name your name, and speak it oh so clear." Must she rhyme all her words? Such a childish sing-song voice. It was driving me mad, but then maybe that was the plan. "Father calls me Lady, so I think that is my name." I paused for a moment, and the voice did not react to the words I had spoken. "What is your name?" The voice still did not speak. Well that was just so rude. What of the rest of you? Will you speak your names? Do not be afraid, I am not. I am here to save you." Still, none spoke. Oh well at least in the quietness now I had time to think.