We'd walked hours to get here. When we'd set off it had been for a great adventure. You'd told us stories of this place and the wonders it contained. As if fuelled by your tales, we surged against the heat of the day. Hiking up the side of the verdant mountain, we paused from time to time, taking short breaks to catch our breath but always pushing on; eager to reach the beach.
The path you'd led us on cleaved between two peaks of the mountain range known as The Grasp. The dark, rich, earth of the path gave way to rocks and dried hardpan as we climbed. The harsh sun bore down, tracking with us as we moved east to west. The rarefied sky, unsullied by clouds or birds, struck us with a brilliant azure blue.
The peaks to either side were barren. Stone claws that tore from the mantel and reached into the sky. Nothing lived near their tips -- nothing could.
We stood between the two peaks at mid day, and stopped to rest. You told us stories of the beach and the wonders it contained. Of the strange and unique creatures that lived there, and there alone. And only then did you mention that not all who went there managed to return.
Startled, we pressed you. Failed to return how? By choice, or by more malignant means. You just looked at us. Knowingly. A faint smirk crossing your lips as you chuckled and whispered, "You'll see when we get there."
In the valley below, a vast jungle spread out between us and a lone mountain in the distance. A deep, lustrous, green canopy created an opaque roof that left the ground beneath in utter darkness. As I looked on the valley from between the claws I stopped you, puzzled, and asked, "What sort of beach is this again? You had said it was on an ocean."
"It is." You replied, "An ocean greater than anything you've ever seen."
Incredulous, I'd started a retort, but you stopped me mid sentence, saying only "You'll see when we get there."
The path down was harsher than the climb. We had to scramble on hands and feet, doing all we could to avoid an unstoppable fall. The mountainside to the west of the claws was doing all it could to ensure there was nowhere to go, aside from down. It was dragging us closer into the palm of its hand.
Eventually, the ground transitioned from dust, back to rock, back to soil. Slightly bruised, more worse for the wear, we had all made it to the jungle's edge. The darkness before us was threatening; deep reptilian urges from long dormant regions of the brain begged us to turn back. A silence pervaded the jungle that was wholly unnatural. There was no bird song, no flies buzzing, not even the sound of the breeze through the trees. We paused, and looked to you for guidance.
"Not far now." You'd said, seemingly more to yourself than to us, and you'd struck off into the darkness.
You weren't wrong. We hadn't travelled far into the jungle before we'd seen the beach. The dirt and roots and rocks of the jungle floor were replaced with a dark sand. It was the colour of clay, rich and brown, but fine and dry like the arid wastes of the claws' peaks. It stole the energy from our steps, making it difficult to walk. It was only through the promise of the creatures at the water's edge that we persevered.
No more than thirty yards into the dense jungle, the tree line ended abruptly. We stood there, dumbfounded. It made no sense. The sweeping expanse we'd seen from the peak, the breadth and sweep of the jungle. There had been was no coastline within sight, but here we stood, in quiet awe.
The ground sloped away from the jungle's edge. The grade of fine, rich, sand formed slouching dunes that eased into a dark shimmering ocean. The inky expanse of midnight blue water sparkled under a dark star. Pricks of glowing green scattered and darted throughout the placid waters, hinting at what bizarre and unseen creatures lived within its depths.
But it was the sky that had fixed us in our place. The magnificent, unspeakable, sky. Pillars of muted yellow clouds hung high, wisps of twinkling blues and oranges melting between them. Shining black stars marked alien constellations, uncharted in the eons through which man had watched the sky. Behind us, we could see a small window -- an opening, a portal -- into the world we had left behind. The bright blue an affront to the warm and inviting vista that now greeted us.
Ochre and vermilion rocks formed cliff faces which flanked either side of the small lagoon's beach, hemming us in as the beach fanned out ahead. It wasn't large, maybe five hundred feet to the water's edge. We stood there for an age marvelling at where you'd brought us. At the singular and indescribable point of perfection that existed so close to us this whole time. We'd hiked less than a day and this place was unheard of in our village.
You broke our reverie by striding onward, down to the water. You cast your pack aside idly, capriciously. It wasn't until you'd sat cross legged in the middle of the beach, waves gently lapping just before your knees that we followed you. Our eyes were fixed on the sky. The wisps between the clouds changed colour with the breeze, blue to red to green to something completely indescribable. But the nebulous pillars remained staunchly yellow, glowing softly from some inner light.
I spared a glance behind us, to see the pocket of azure, all that remained from the sky that was, had shrunk. It still shone there, in a mockery of beauty around us, but ever so slightly smaller. Before too long, it would be completely gone. Turning back, I whispered, loath to break the peacefulness of the beach, "Where are we? This place shouldn't be here. When we left we were miles from the sea, and yet..."
Your head craned around, a monstrous crack sounding over the gentle roar of the waves. Your body faced forward, riveted toward the sea, while you looked at each of us in turn. A dark light of the stars shone from your eyes. Black pools of night had taken their place and they pierced into our souls. Looking into your eyes was to look into eternity, a cold creeping horror that climbed up one's back. Your mouth split into a sinister smile that revealed dozens of vicious needles in place of teeth, running from ear to ear. With a hiss, you replied, "You'll see when we get there."
With that you looked back toward the sea. Two of us ran back into the jungle, another simply fell to his knees weeping. I alone mustered the strength to join you. As I sat on the sand, I couldn't bring myself to look at you. A noxious scent wafted on the breeze, clouding the honeysuckle that preceded it. Its bitter and cloying aroma of salt and brine flew in the face of the ocean's beauty. I felt compelled to move, but my body refused. Some other worldly force kept me fixed to the beach beside you.
Rather than look at you, my attention went to the water in the brilliant lagoon before us. Fantastical creatures danced and played just under the surface of the translucent water. Cephalopods with uncountable limbs and knowing eyes skittered and shot between shoals of rocks. They came to rest on the floor, laying in wait for their prey to swim over head. I watched, fascinated, as what looked like a third eye on the top of one's head surged open, venting a torrent of heat which boiled the water and killed the small minnow that had wandered into its path. Translucent eels wove themselves together, melding into one creature, only to split apart moments later into dozens of wisps. Skates and rays covered in a myriad of coloured spines fluttered, oblivious to what transpired around them. I was struck in a mix of awe and horror at the intricacies of the beasts that swam mere feet from me.
We sat there for hours, in silence, the weeping of the man behind us finally stopped, though I know not how. The ocean refused to relinquish my gaze, keeping me transfixed on the creatures below. You turned, and said quietly, "We can stay now. They've been sated."
I was confused. Your words had broken the spell the ocean had cast on me, and I was able to turn around. The one who'd fallen was gone, a dark smear in the sand leading back into the jungle the only sign he had ever been there. "Who? Who has been satiated?" I asked.
You replied, your dark eyes still fixed on the horizon, "Those that came before. Those that need sating. We are free to stay now. They will allow it."
Looking up from the blood on the sand, I saw that only a hint of my sky remained. I tried to think of the life I'd had, the family I'd loved, but nothing would rise to the surface. The only thought that I could bring to mind was the memory of the ocean. I knew there had been more but it remained elusive. And I felt it slipping away.
Frightened, my voice shaking, I ventured "Must we? I left some things I want back home. If I can just get them quickly, I'll be back before you know it."
You turned, the black light that shone from your eyes had grown. They were wider, larger than they'd been before. A forked tongue flicked quickly from between the needles in your broad mouth. A yellow pallor had taken to your flesh. You asked "What had you left behind? Specifically. Tell me and you may go."
Words failed me. I was unable to bring even the most mundane of objects to mind. All I could see with my mind's eye was the ocean and the pillars in the sky.
You smiled, cloyingly. "Just as I thought. I am insulted that you do not wish to remain. Fear is expected, but I chose you, and you alone, to join me here because I thought you would have been able to adapt." You spared a glance over your shoulder at the faint, ever receding, hint of azure in the sky. "They will not be kind should you leave. While the sacrifices have been made, the jungle is still fraught with dangers. The beasts that claim the offerings are not picky. Without me as your guide, they will come for you."
I looked back to the horizon. A ship was approaching our beach, though it was much to far out to see who -- or what -- captained it. The dark stars were still sparkling in the sky above while the wondrous creatures below the sea continued their dance unabated. As I watched the ship draw closer, you said,
"You have a choice to make. When they arrive, you can come with us. We will sail these seas and see things untold since the days they left our world to rule this one. You will be shown wonders and horrors that are unparallelled in their beauty and that will try to rake your very soul from its body. It will not be easy; nothing here ever is." You looked briefly behind us, then back to the ship. "Or, you can try to return home. You can test the jungle, and it may let you leave. I can't say for sure. If it is feeling generous, you will find yourself at the base of the claws and will have a hard climb ahead of you -- but it will be the last hard thing you are ever faced with and the memory of this place will never leave you. It will haunt you until long after your dying breath. For that I am truly sorry."
You hadn't finished your ultimatum before I'd made my decision. As if this new world around us somehow knew, the last vestiges of the azure sky fled the night's sky.
The ship waited off the coast, while a long boat came to retrieve us. A lone figure, clad in a rough, sack cloth cloak stood at the rear. It's face was completely obscured by the folds of its hood, save two large eyes that shone with the same black light that came from yours. He stood easily four feet taller than I, with shockingly long, spindly arms. Its hands were three fingered claws of white sinew, clasped around a long wooden staff it used to steady itself. Rowing the boat were abominable creatures -- muscled like gorillas, they had no head or eyes. Their necks ended in mouths that bore filed teeth. They sat immobile in two ranks of five.
You stood, now much taller than before, your transformation complete. You offered a three fingered hand to help me off the rich sand. You saw the question in my eyes before I had chance to give it voice. Replying in a gentle hiss,
"You'll see when we get there."