Shades of Grey

LOCATION UNKNOWN— DECEMBER 1843

I passed through the dark shadows of the stone cell and found myself walking amidst a dark forest with huge, twisted trees. I cautiously moved underneath their warped roots and around their bowed awkward trunks that wrapped around and over each other seamlessly like a forest made of pliable rubber.

“What a strange place,” I muttered to myself as I watched several dragonflies flit around a particularly misshapen tree. As I took a contemplative pause to watch them, the knots and bark of the tree suddenly became a visible face with two hollow eyes, a large knobbed nose and a wide, gaping mouth. The treeface turned, opened its frighteningly large jaw and ate all of the dragonflies with a single resounding gulp. I flinched, covered my gaping mouth and began to walk faster, searching for some sort of escape from this virtual Golgotha.

Just then, I heard a chorus of soft verse: a gentle song that calmed my frantic nerves and settled my panic, which also arose in me a wariness that reminded me briefly of the song the Letum sang to their victims. I followed the music, navigating easily around the distorted trees and the maze of upturned roots to locate its makers.

After several minutes of travel, I came upon a murky, expansive swamp. Along the very edge near a long wooden bridge stood eight women clothed in only thin white dresses. They swayed gently and sang a soothing song while they danced gracefully around the swamp edge, moving with the poise of a company of swans.

I took one step forward and an ugly crack rang through the air as I stepped on a stray twig, immediately silencing the sirens. I stood very still as all eight of them turned to me, their beautiful faces glaring at me with supremacy and discontent. I opened my mouth to speak but before I could, one of the taller women took several nimble steps forward and began to speak in an elegant language that I did not recognise.

“Er, I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re saying,” I said slowly, feeling dim. She scoffed, as if speaking to a person who turned out to hold less intelligence that she originally assumed.

“Alright, I shall repeat myself: You are Grey Echo, correct?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied. “How did you know?”

“We’ve been expecting you,” she responded smoothly. “We have a task for you.”

I shook my head stalwartly in objection. I could not afford any more delays.

“No, I already have a task to complete and it is quite important,” I declined politely.

“If you do not complete our task, then you will never find your Maisling.”

The other women then laughed — high-pitched cackles that rose together into one horrendous echoing clamour. I clutched my ears as the auditory harangue grew louder and more excruciating. At last, they relented and ceased their laughter, leaving to me gasp and rub my throbbing temples.

“Alright, what must I do?” I asked with indisposed dread as I stood.

She laughed with sinister spite and gestured towards the lake.

“Over the bridge and inside the forest there is a sword that will prove useful once you pass to the next cell. However, this forest is not a kind one: it is filled with malicious spirits, tricky creatures and even some obstacles we do not know of. If you can retrieve the sword before the forest hides it forever, then you will be permitted safe passage to the next cell.”

I watched the sirens as they took their places around the swamp, once again beginning their dance. I sighed and approached the bridge, ignoring the laughter that my nervous tension educed from the women, and strode forward.

The forest on the opposite side of the lake looked to be even more intimidating than the bit I had first come through. The trees were thicker, the air was darker and I could smell a foul stench as though something very large was rotting. I quickened my pace, drawing on unknown stores of courage.

I traversed the swamp in no time and crossing over into the dark forest ahead, just as the indefinite groaning and whining of wood reached my ears. I cast one last glance at the eight dancing sirens and stepped forward into the Stygian forest, successfully stilling my thundering heart.