Backdated to June 20
The last few visits to Dering had been on an upward track, so Julian's trips were equal parts hope and relief.
Destiny City was busy enough, so having somewhere quiet, somewhere safe, somewhere he could work and think and process, was necessary. He could regulate himself, and could make himself useful. He got to see Cyril, which was a huge perk in itself, but he also got to check on all his other projects. The grass in the clearing was healthy, but it wasn't growing as quickly--which meant he didn't have to trim it. More flowers were growing, though they'd always been plentiful; now, they were just more colorful, more fragrant, more alive.
Two weeks ago, the fish were half the size of his finger. Last week, some of them were half as long as his whole hand. They hadn't left the river yet, but they were spreading out a bit.
And the roseberries!
Julian was so glad he'd moved them when he did, because as soon as he replanted them in the grove, they'd really taken root. They doubled in size in less than a week, and there was no way he'd been able to move them without help.
But that hadn't even been the most exciting thing--
There were prints in the dirt. It had rained recently, so the water had soaked into the mud and smoothed it out, so when Julian arrived and there were visible tracks, of course he took note.
Cyril hadn't seen anything, but Julian knew he tended to wander. The forest was large, and Julian had only seen a small part of it. Cyril still guarded the rest.
They followed the tracks, which looked like hooves, but Julian was afraid to get ahead of himself. He wasn't a skilled tracker, so he couldn't guess if it belonged to one creature or twenty, and he couldn't really tell where they'd gone except for 'around the grove'.
It was a good thing the roseberries had grown so wildly, because some of them had been nibbled. Still not quite ripe, but close. There were fewer white berries, and far more pink ones--still too pale, but so close.
And, birdsong.
Gentle, twittering noises, from all around the forest.
Last week, there had been so much going on that Julian didn't even think he'd been able to see it all.
He was looking forward to picking up where he left off on this visit, only--
He arrived to darkness.
Lysithea had a very predictable daytime schedule, comparable to that of Earth, so he knew he should expect sunshine.
And birdsong.
Dering was silent. A tension hung in the air, like a wire ready to snap.
The hair stood on the back of his neck and his heart hammered in his chest. He didn't move.
The second he arrived, he felt eyes on him, and the crushing instinct to freeze, like if he stayed still then whatever was watching him would somehow lose sight of him.
Julian clutched his lute tightly. He could make a shield but he didn't know if it would be fast enough, strong enough.
--And where was Cyril.
Julian's voice caught in his throat even before he could call out.
He scanned the shadows of the forest but it was too dark and he couldn't make out anything. Nothing moved. The moon (moon?) completely blocked out the sun, and an ominous red ring glowed in a perfect circle around it. The sky was red, or black--he wasn't sure. He couldn't tell. It was dark.
It was cold.
The world felt smaller, like the sky was pressing down on them.
Julian didn't breathe. He stared up at the sky. Something rippled, but nothing moved.
A low rumble echoed in the distance, reverberating through the air and ground alike. Julian could feel it in his bones.
It started like a whisper, but it rapidly rolled closer, coming from not one direction, but all directions. From the outskirts of the forest--straight towards him. The noise, the force, was a tsunami, cresting well above him. He felt the air change.
Every cell in his body told him to run, but he didn't.
He stayed still. Not because he couldn't move--he could, if he needed to run, he could--
But where was he supposed to go? When no part of Julian moved, his eyes did.
Every space around him was open, but none of them were an exit. His feet stayed planted firmly, and his fingers twitched against the strings of his lute.
He waited. Time had no meaning. A second lasted for a year, but it was also gone in the blink of an eye.
Julian smelled smoke but he saw nothing.
Darkness rolled towards him in a towering wave, and yet there was nothing to see. The wind picked up. Trees trembled. He heard branches crack, heard leaves rustle, and then he heard nothing but a deafening roar.
The world shrank around him, into him.
The pressure was so heavy that he couldn't breathe, couldn't blink--almost couldn't move his fingers.
Wind whipped around him with such force that his hair became a weapon.
He waited.
The darkness swallowed the sky, the moon, and him--almost him--
Julian plucked the string of his lute at the tail end of the last second, and his shield erupted. Something slammed down against it with such force that it felt like his bones were cracking under his skin, and then--
"Julian!"
He blinked.
Cyril stood before him, face twisted in worry. His mouth was moving, but Julian couldn't hear any of it. He stood, petrified, staring at Cyril--through him, because he couldn't focus on his face, and Cyril was more wraithlike than he'd ever looked before.
Julian reached out for him instinctively, but the moment his hand touched Cyril--passed through him--he disappeared.
But the birdsong returned. The sun shone brightly. Clouds drifted through the sky. Butterflies danced around him.
Dering was healing.
But Dering was sick, too.
