Where The Colors Dwell Chapter 1: Chapter 1 - Life Veiled On The Peak

Read chapter 1 of Where The Colors Dwell by KRSJ on NovelPedia.

The mud in Mud Mire never rose. Not for boots lifted from its depths, nor for a carriage dragging their dead. All who roamed were born in the pools of mire found throughout its mud. The mire brought life, though most of it lasted shorter than the fleeting trails the carriage made. In the carriage’s interior, barrels and chests were crammed inside crashing into each other, shattering jugs against their metal rims and spilling their contents in a cascade of destruction. By the time the door hinges finally gave way, the doors were already gutted, cargo scattering across muddy water, mixing the bodies it carried with other creatures' foul remains. The chests had split open. What fell out of them was corn gone to mold, and grapes shriveled to inedible raisins. The decay on these foods was worse than the termite-infested wheels that carried them. The only thing that could possibly be worth ravaging was the crate of weaponry, bleeding a smell of old nails clenched in a fist too long. Even when most of its inventory fell out, the carriage kept tumbling away at its slow pace. Orin drew closer to see what was moving the carriage, and with each step his vision grew brighter. Whatever was hauling it emitted a pulsing light which dazzled any leech that swam too close. A snout and tail outline could be made out in the mellowed puddles. At first, he thought it was a seahorse from the flashing shadow. All it took was the rubbing of eyes, for him to realize it was a leafy seadragon. It stood slightly shorter than Orin, who was a foot taller than most men. Bigger than any of the horses he'd seen, maybe even rivaling him if he hadn’t worn boots. Thankfully the sludge wasn't over his boots—a mercy for the creatures that dwelled in the south sanctions. At Nequine, an east sanction of Mud Mire, the water wasn’t low or thick. Most learned to swim out of the womb there, or die trying. Orin would rather be swimming in that muck than standing in this one. High water meant deep mire, and deep mire meant somewhere to vanish. That was what kept you safe in Nequine. Here, in this south sanction—the borderlands. The water barely topped over his boots, too thin to hide anything beneath it. Thin water bred thin mud, and thin mud hid nothing—not a man, not a snake, not even a leech in the shallows. Anything significant that moved could be seen from a hundred strides off. Easiest sanction for hunting. Easier sanction to be hunted in. A whistling snort blew out and the wheels of the carriage died down. It came to a halt a dozen meters away, aligned with Orin. Now that it was closer it reminded him of a warhorse. Wounds throughout its body, some patched by time, others not as lucky. At least three of its skin lobes had been cut off. Removed immorally, deformed. The seadragon’s eyes found Orin. It slid free of its harness and swam towards him, fins flapping through muck and grime. Instinct pushed Orin back, with the clumps of mire that plagued his spring, leaking from his fingers. It spilled into the fuzzy water, texturing its surface with impurities. Creatures like this didn’t seek out people for nothing. “Are you the cause for bodies drifting down to Nequine shores?” Orin asked, trading a steady gaze with the seadragon. Instead of anger or dishonesty, he saw only eyes of hope. And then it bowed forward; the sparkle in its eyes dissolved into the breeze. Orin’s tensed hands dropped. The streams of mire that gushed from his fingers turned into trickles before dissipating altogether. He hesitantly walked to the seadragon, brushing his dampened hand under its neck. “It's dead.” Orin knelt. “I’m sorry for blaming you… I had no right to.” He pressed his forehead against the seadragon’s head. “May Elgin guide your soul to a life free of mire.” As his head pulled back, he noticed the seadragon’s tail dim vaguely. Eggs. He watched them wither away, dying in patches at a time. He pressed the seadragon’s body into the mud, sinking it halfway. He then pulled out a