Through the Haze - Part Three

Boredom is a disease; it eats at the soul until there is nothing left, and drives the person mad. --Abernathy Garvi, Section of Unease
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The day was hot, the breeze was slight, and Isaac found it far too boring to stay cooped up inside all day, even after his episode last night with the dream. The dream still made him shiver when he remembered it, but he was finding it harder and harder to remember. Maybe that was a good thing, he pondered, for he didn't wish to recall it and feel the icy chill again.

Walking down the hill that led to the pond. The pond wasn't very deep, maybe six feet or so, but it was enough to drown in. He was always reminded to watch himself and be careful, and he usually rolled his eyes at their concern.

Walking past the pond, he continued on his way to the stables. After last night, he wanted to make sure that it was still safe there, that nothing had really changed, that it had really just been a dream.

Entering the barn, he slipped past a block of hay and past a few workers, toward the place where the hole was. Hanz spotted him and eyed him suspiciously, that scowl still on his face. It seemed to Isaac that he always had a scowl on his face. "Hey, Isaac," said Hanz, in his strange accent. It sounded almost Irish, but not exactly. A bit of a mix, probably.

Isaac stopped and tried a smile. "Hey, Hanz. How's business?"

"M'kay," grunted the old man. "What brings you down here to this neck of the farm?"

Isaac paused and thought about what to say for an answer. "Well," he said slowly, working it out as he spoke, "I was just passing through, you see, and figure what the heck? I'll stop by the barn and see how things are going."

Hanz eyed him for a moment, then nodded. "Then be on your way, lad." he turned and lumbered off down the narrow hallway, and out of sight.

Isaac let out a breath and slipped through the hole, into the room on the other side. He peered around it doubtfully, but it seemed the same. The hay was still there, still the same, and the room was warm and familiar. Nothing had changed. He let out a small breath of relief.

"Just a dream," he whispered to himself. "Just an ugly dream."

He turned on his heel and exited the room, slipping back through the hole and marching through the narrow hall. Ember was there, talking to Hanz, but he stopped when he saw him. Hanz grumbled something and walked away, leaving the two of them alone.

"Hey, Isaac," said Ember. "How's your day been?"

"Pretty good," answered Isaac. "Yours?"

"Okay," said Ember. "Have you written in your journal lately?"

Isaac paused for a moment. "Just a little," he admitted. "But I've been kind of sidetracked."

Ember nodded thoughtfully. "I understand. Say, what do you fancy for supper tonight? Steak, or fish?"

"Steak's fine," he answered, and turned. "I really should be going. Talk to ya later, Ember."

"See ya," called Ember as he left the barn. Isaac stalked over to the shade of some trees and sat down.

Feeling a bit unnerved from his dream last night, even though it wasn't real, he wasn't really in the mood to do anything. With a frustrated sigh, he glanced up at the sky, watching the clouds roll by. One cloud looked rather dark. It wasn't very big, just a small slither really, but it was noticeable to him. With a small, tired frown, he watched it. It didn't seem to be moving with the others, it just hovered in one place.

'What the?' he thought to himself, narrowing his eyes. Maybe it was just a trick of the wind. Maybe it was nothing. But then, maybe it was something and he should be worried about it.

He shivered. "What's going on?" he wondered aloud. He watched the cloud closely, then felt sort of foolish for paying so much attention to a measley cloud. He couldn't help it, though. It was strange and needed to be watched, or so he thought.

Still, the cloud didn't move. It hovered there, far above him.

Feeling uneasy, he rose to his feet and started back up the hill, headed toward the house. When he happened to glance up at the sky again, the cloud was still above him, even though he was a good few yards away from where he had been resting in the shade.

'Is it following me?' he wondered. After walking a few more paces, he realized that, yes, it was! It was following him. Giving a brief yelp beneath his hurried breath, he darted forward, longing for the safety of the house.
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Ember was down in the stables, talking to Roo, when the chill came upon him. The breath wheezed out of him, and he found that he didn't feel so good. Roo went blurry, and the world began to spin. His mind was hazy, and he found he couldn't think clearly through this sudden haze.

"Ember?" Roo's voice somehow cut through the haze, if only briefly. "Are you okay? Ember?" A hand touched his shoulder. "You don't look so good."

"Don't feel so hot, either," grumbled Ember. He took a staggering step toward the door. "I'm....just going to...go on home. Okay?"

"Yeah," said Roo, his voice worried. "You do that. Get some rest. I'll come by later, okay?"

Ember was going to argue and say that there was no need, but he didn't feel up to it. Feeling sick to his stomach, an icy chill creeping up his spine and making movement hard, he nodded his head and slowly fled the barn.

He barely made it to the house before the pain set in.
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Isaac waited and paced in the kitchen for Ember to come down, but he never did. He wondered if maybe he was sick, but surely he would have told him by now. He was getting a little worried, though he knew Ember didn't like people worrying about him.

Briefly, he wondered if he should go up and check on Ember. He hadn't looked so well when he'd come home, and hadn't said much but a simple hello, and then he'd staggered up the stairs.

"Ember?" he called, loud enough for his voice to echo up the stairs. "You okay up there?"

He waited patiently, but there was no answer.

Feeling a little more worried and uneasy than before, he made his way up the stairs and down the hallway, stopping at Ember's door. He rapped his knuckles on it a few times. "Ember? You okay? Hello?"

He waited. Still no answer.

Now he held his breath as he opened the door slowly, peering inside. He gasped as the door opened the rest of the way, shedding light into the room.

Ember had never made it to the bed. He was sprawled out in the middle of the floor, his head tilted to the side, his blonde hair wet and limp from the sweat beading his forehead, his eyebrows knitted together in pain. His mouth was barely parted, opened just enough for his heavy, panting breaths.

"....Ember?" he whispered, taking a timid step into the room. "Are you okay? Ember?"

Ember never answered, just gave a low, pitiful keening sound. Isaac swallowed thickly.

What was going on?