As the group entered the fort, Red took the moment to slip away. He was in no mood to talk with new people. Besides, none of them had anything to do with him. From his brief glance, he recognized a few faces from Cairen's ship, but the rest were likely Zara's soldiers.
Either way, none of them had much to do with him. Vizim needed time to regroup with the survivors, and Zara would need time to talk with her soldiers. Neither of those scenarios involved him, and he didn't want them to either.
More than anything, all he wanted to do was rest. He was exhausted from the day's events, and he wanted some respite. After everything that happened, he just wanted to be away. His mind kept going back to the dead man and the gruesome manner in which he had been killed. That scene simply wouldn't leave his mind, no matter what he tried. Red hoped that sleep would be the cure he was looking for.
He pushed open the door to the room he had claimed. It was small and compact, exactly like a military bunk. It had felt strange sleeping here for the first time, but now he was used to it. It was far more comfortable than it had been in the cell.
Red didn't bother to remove his guns. They needed fixing, but that could wait until another time. Right now, he didn't want to see them. He tossed his coat over a chair sitting next to his bunk. There were other bunks in the room as well, but the only ones who had claimed them were Derrin and Vizim. He hoped the soldiers and sailors wouldn't be sleeping in here as well. He wanted solitude at the moment.
It was hard for him to wrap his mind around the whole situation. It was even harder for him to understand why he was so disturbed. He had been anticipating the killing ever since his arrival on the island. It didn't make sense for this to be the reason he was so upset, but he couldn't understand what else it could be.
Whatever the reason, he needed sleep. In the morning, his mind would hopefully be clearer, and he'd be able to move on. That was his hope at least. If he were stuck like this, he wouldn't be of any help to anyone. Shutting his eyes, he prayed for sleep to come, and for the first time, his prayers seemed to be answered…
Red staggered out of the jungle. His heart pounded, and he felt blood rushing in his ears. What had just happened? He wasn't sure. All he knew was he needed to get away. His foot caught on a rock, and he tripped onto the sandy shore. He clambered forward a few feet before righting himself and continuing down the beach at a slower pace.
The sounds of cracking branches resounded behind him. Whatever was chasing him was growing closer. He needed to hurry. Where he was going…he had no idea. He just needed to run. A massive plateau stuck out from the beach in front of him. Perfect. He could use it for cover if he was fast enough.
His footsteps were silent in the sand, and he failed to notice the strangest thing of all: he left no footprints. None of that was of concern. All he knew was that he needed to get away…he needed to escape.
The jungle crashed behind him, but he didn't dare look back. The plateau seemed to still be on the distant horizon. When had it gotten so far away? He had to move faster. His limbs refused to listen, and he began to slow down. The fast run he had been doing slowed to a walk. The crashing stopped, and he turned to see what was chasing him.
There was nothing.
It was just an endless jungle. Shaking his head, Red turned back and found the plateau before him. It seemed that whatever was hounding him had backed off, and yet, he didn't feel safe. He needed a better view of his surroundings. Grabbing onto some vines, Red began pulling himself up. The plateau was his best bet if he wanted to see everything. Perhaps, he could figure out who or what was after him.
He climbed, hand over hand. Dirt clung to his hand and got stuck beneath his nails, but he paid it no mind. Red focused on climbing. That was all that mattered. He needed to get to the top. Whatever reason he had for climbing, it didn't matter. All he knew was that the top brought salvation. He just had to get to the top…
The vine snapped.
Red screamed and felt himself plummeting to the ground below. His body hit with a crunch, and he felt a torrent of pain roaring through his limbs. He cursed and tried to push himself up. He could have sworn the vine was solid a moment ago. Climbing to his knees, Red glanced up at the plateau that wasn't there anymore.
"Damn it all!" He yelled.
Pushing himself to his feet, he stared into the distance. There was no plateau around him, only a sandy beach. The beach led off to the sea, and that sea was stranger still. Where the teal glow of water should have been, there was only red. The entire sea emanated an ominous red glow. Red staggered backward.
What the hell!
Something crashed into him from behind, and he went down. He tasted sand as something pinned him down to the earth. He fought like hell. He wouldn't die like this. This would not be the end. Red kicked, and whatever was grappling him grunted. So it was human then?
He managed to roll free and grabbed his gun. It had been lying there ready for him to use. He raised it, froze. The figure loomed before him. The pirate's dead eyes, like pits of hell. His face was grey, and his clothes were stained with blood. He smiled, and his teeth glinted red.
Red stared at the pirate as it brought its knee down on his gut. Grunting, Red dropped his gun. To hands closed around his neck, and the dead face drew close. The hot breath of life blew across his face at the same time death tightened around his neck. The dead man stealing the life from the living.
He couldn't breathe. There was no air. All he felt was death closing in around his neck. He needed to shoot the man. That was his only chance. His only opportunity to free himself. Red glanced to the side frantically. Where had he left his weapon? It had been right there! Where had it gone? Where was it?
He was going to die…
That was it…
There was nothing to it…
The pirate's body faded as Red felt his vision darken. The hands suddenly released from his neck, and he opened them frantically. He should have been dead. He was supposed to be dead.
His chest burned. He felt as if he had been punched, but no, that wasn't right. It felt far worse than getting punched. He looked down at the hole in his abdomen. Hot blood flowed from the burning wound. Red screamed and staggered backward. What was happening to him?
A dark fog closed around him. Red looked up and found a figure looming over him. It was nothing as he had seen before. The figure was eight feet tall and made of stone. Its face carved from the very same rock that made up its flesh. In its hand, there was a massive stone-carved axe.
The figure smiled, and when it spoke, it was like the sound of grinding stone, "It will pass."
The words echoed in his mind, sounding inhuman. They reminded him of talking with Torrent, except far more forceful. The very words seemed to be chipped into his head and carved into his brain.
"It is the fate of a Guardian."
These words, too, found their way into his mind.
"What are you?" That was all he could manage.
red.
"You will know in time."
Red.
"What do you want from me?" He practically choked on the words.
Red!
"It seems our time is at an end. We will meet again soon…Redwynn Tidespinn."
Red!!!