IN FULL COLOUR - Dark Fantasy

Axel

Gabrielle’s room was considerably large, seeing that she was the Alpha’s only daughter and heir to the pack. The one-of-a-kind, flawless painted wall stretched along the entire left wing of the spacious room and slightly curved around the edge leading towards the exit, making it the largest, most unique piece of art I had ever seen. Not only did the creatures in it look lifelike, but it also communicated something unexplainable. An emotion. Raw and mysterious.

It was unlike anything I had ever witnessed. Like it summoned something deep inside of me, an old, ancient memory perhaps? Tugging delicately at the lining of my chest cavity. Feelings I couldn’t even begin to explain.

She watched me carefully as I studied every inch of the wall, walking slowly beside it and skimming my fingers over some of the areas which pulled at my gut.

As I stepped back to take the final, entire image in, I could clearly see progress in the artwork. It had to be depicted from the one end to the other, so I did exactly that. Stepping back around the corner to the entrance of the room, starting with the very first brush stroke edged into that initial, opening illustration, a smaller stretch of painting which lay in the corridor when you first enter the room. It was the first piece I saw when I had stepped in the door, and it was the beginning of the story.

Rocky, jagged mountains, one towering out behind the other, portrayed the harsh, unforgiving mountain ranges surrounding their territory, Dire Mountain Pack. I recognised it immediately because the one peak was shaped in the form of a wolf’s head, howling up into the sky. The famous peak which could be seen from almost anywhere in Dire Mountain as it loomed quietly in the background, the very same mountain peak which featured on their official crest and made out the unmistakable insignia tattooed onto all the soldier’s wrists.

Monotones of different browns depicted the jarring mountains perfectly. Lighter shades were used on the mountains closest to the front and darker shades used on the ones in the back, along with wherever shadows fell eerily over the lower peaks.

And there, near the bottom of the wall at the very edge of the corner, close to the floor, a cave. Hidden in between large boulders, dead shrubbery and more jagged rocks, a small clearing emerged, tucked away safely in the belly of the surrounding mountains. It was there where the cave’s entrance lay.

I crouched down beside it and examined the dark paint beyond the mouth of the cave, tried to peer into the almost invisible opening, into its darkness, as if I might be able to get a glimpse of what lay inside.

The opening was painted with such a deep black, it almost seemed alive. A living gateway, so dark and strange, its presence alone was sucking the life out of the rest of the painting, the rest of the room. Beckoning me closer. Drawing me in.

Realization hit as I stood up and stepped around the corner, taking in the entire left wall. A brand-new setting.

“This is what’s inside,” I breathed, although it sounded more like a question, “the inside of the cave.”

“Yes,” she answered softly from behind. Her voice gently flowing through me, begging to ease my discomfort at what I saw in front of me.

Tunnels carved into the rocky walls of the mountains, leading deep into its core. Dim, glowing lights of various shapes and sizes illuminating the insides of the caves, leading one down, down, into the belly of the mountain. A slow and steady descend into darkness, until it stopped and opened into an immaculate, well-lit space hidden in the pit of the mountain range, so large, it contained houses, businesses, flocks of animals, farms and all sorts of different creatures.

“What?” I started to say, but words evaded me.

The creatures varied in size and grotesqueness. Some looked more human than others, exquisite women and strong, handsome men. The only thing portraying them as different from us, was their almost unworldly beauty and the pointy ears, which peeked out from under their hair. Fae.

“This cannot be,” I remarked again.

Gabrielle took a careful step closer, “do you believe us now?” She asked. Not an accusation. More an inquisition.

“They are all real?” I asked, my voice rough like gravel.

“Yes.”

Finally, I turned to face her wholly, my fingers unconsciously searching for the puncture wounds in my thigh. A strange, form of confirmation. Evidence.

Her face was serious, the unspoken message in her eyes unfaltering.

“Sit,” she said, gesturing towards two dark-purple armchairs only a few feet away. It was positioned snuggly in what looked like a neat little book nook. Bookshelves, stacked to the brim with all kinds of literature stretched from the floor to the ceiling on either side of the chairs, once again, decorated with tiny, glowing fairy lights framing the cosy area.

She didn’t wait for my response before claiming one of the seats, her bare feet tucked in comfortably under her legs. The jean shorts she had on, hugged her hips even tighter and one of the straps of her bronze top fell off her shoulder, hanging loosely over her slender arm.

My eyes lingered on the shiny piece of fabric teasing her smooth, silky skin and I had to force myself to look away.

Focus.

I rubbed the back of my neck uncomfortably while glancing at the wall again.

“What are these creatures?” I asked, my eyes still roaming over the incredible painting, “that THING that attacked me in the hall last night?”

Thousands of thoughts, ideas, possible explanations barrelled through my mind, all of them trying to make more sense than the other, all of them failing miserably.

“Fae,” she simply said.

I shook my head. I couldn’t believe it, yet, I had seen one of these beings with my own eyes, felt its razor-sharp nails digging into my flesh.

“All of them?”

“All of them.”

I turned. She stared past me; her caramel orbs fixed on the wall behind.

“Where are they now?”

Her gaze shifted to my face at last, “behind us. Beneath us. Sometimes around us.”

“But we cannot see them?” I asked, my brows scrunching together.

“Not if they are glamoured.” She continued when I looked even more confused than before, “if they have magic protecting them. Hiding them from sight, like Locke did with the Mansoor last night.”

My mind flashed back to the creature howling in the hallway and then disappearing into thin air as Locke spoke to it. “So, the animal, IT?”

“The Mansoor,” she corrected.

“It never really went away; I just couldn’t see it anymore?”

“Yes.”

“How did you know it was a Mansoor which attacked me?”

Now HER brows furrowed, “because I was there, I saw it.”

“But, it had already been uh-,” I waved a hand in the air, searching for the right word.

Understanding flickered in her eyes, “glamoured?”

“Exactly. It had already been glamoured when you got there.” My heart stopped. “WAIT!? Are you?”

She quickly cut me off, “NO! I’m not Fae. I am a full-blood wolf. Although, I do have uh-certain abilities,” she answered, peering up at me from under her lashes. She was waiting for it.

My rejection.

Her entire body had gone still. Rigid.

“Spill it,” I growled, taking slow predatory steps towards her.

I have had enough of this.

Too many secrets. Too many secrets had been kept from me, from the world. Concealed within the rocky walls of the mountains, of this pack, of Dire Mountain.

She swallowed, light dancing in her eyes.

“I have a gift. Gifted only to me by the great mother of King Gaute, Fae King of Light and Lightning.”