Of Dead, Empty Things

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The Kingdom of Sissenis. Evenfall.

SHE couldn't believe the dirt. So much of it, everywhere. The land below her was an endless swatch of dull red brown, the sky above dark like bitter chocolate. The sea at her back, if such a term applied, not much more than a bubbling cauldron of mud, murk, and rotten things.

The air was humid and thick and each inhale of it brought grit that scratched her nostrils and throat. Dirt piles popped up like pustules, some so high, clouds encircled them like starving vultures.

In Aelurus or Exul, such mounds would have been called mountains, but not here. They weren't sharp, or rigid, or made of stone. It was all dirt.

Ordinary, boring dirt. The kind that lodged itself under her nails and stained her skin the color of bitter tea. The kind that irritated her eyes and made homes in her lungs. That stuck in her teeth and bogged down her whiskers.

Dirt, unlike anywhere else, that all the magick in the realms couldn't banish away.

"This had better be worth it," Margo muttered, trudging up the beaten path. A menacing serpent moon cast her surroundings in a venomous green haze.

She blew out, peeling a few mud-caked curls off her forehead, and frowned. "I'll need a weeklong stint in the bath to get clean." With a hiss, she dragged her slippers further up the mound, dirt crusting her skin with each step.

At the beginning of her journey, her shoes had been a lovely turquoise. Laced with gold thread and of high quality mughound leather. They had been brand new, a lady's shoes, perfect for long and short journeys alike, Abby had assured when she'd gifted them to Margo after enduring six months in the new Aelurian king's employ.

"He's a terror," Abby had said of Lucy, her, the foremost authority on his peculiar nature. "And you surely deserve something for tolerating such unrelenting idiocy."

After the gift had been given, both women had laughed, much to Lucy's confusion, who had happened upon them just as their laughter evolved into riotous cackling, all at his expense.

Margo had left Darkmoore Castle not long after, never revealing the subject of her and Abby's humor, no matter Lucy's constant pestering. But she hadn't wanted to leave, not really. Abandon her life at the castle, the other Cloudians in need of her help acclimating to Aelurus's still somewhat hostile environment. She even wished to stay at Lucy's side a little longer. But she'd left, not even knowing what she'd find, or if she'd find anything.

But someone had to try. Magick was dying. Aelurus's Black Sea had grown toxic, blowing noxious gas bubbles into the air and making coastal villages inhospitable. Aelurians were fleeing, taking to the trees and mountains to get away.

Then there was the Evernight, and the return of light. A sun, not much bigger than a lantern fruit had appeared in its eastern skies, much to the horror of its inhabitants. Shadow King Axion had been holding balls and feasts nightly to calm his subjects, but their relief was temporary, and fled the moment the sun rose.

After much researching, Margo was certain - the disappearance of the Dawn Stag directly related to the realms' failing magick. That's why she had come here, to the humid, dirt-filled land of Sissenis, in hope of uncovering the truth about the Dawn Stag and its connection to magick.

She resumed her climb, only pausing to catch her breath and exchange heated clicks with Sissenis's native inhabitants. The yellow and red eyes of the Artelopers peered at her through the dead underbrush along either side of the path, hissing and clicking their jaws, stomping their hooves into the ground, and kicking up dirt clouds.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, putting two fingers around her whiskers and sliding off the mud that had caked there. "I get it. You don't like intruders." A ball of mud broke underfoot. "Well, it's not like I want to be here, either." She sighed and glanced up.

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