《Return To Palelight》 The Path There was only the path. Winding gently through barren hills, darker grey snaking through lighter grey. Gnarled roots clawed up from beneath worn cobblestones, reaching for Fir¡¯s bare feet in a spasmodic yet ultimately fruitless exercise. A miasma of pain unspoken, an Unquiet, reached for her with those roots. Blind fingers straining for something beyond, something unreachable. Palelight bathed the path ahead in something not quite light, but less dark than the darkness that surrounded it. It did not bleed into the bleakness, restrained by unseen hands. Fir did not stop to rest in the Palelight; she didn¡¯t feel the small warmth it brought. She didn¡¯t feel anything. She left the patch of Palelight behind. It was just one more thing left behind. Fir didn¡¯t dwell on it, but that usual feeling of emptiness lurked in the back of her mind. Emptiness reflected by the endless hills and vast, vast night, which was not quite night. After all, that was why she was here.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. With the Palelight gone, the aching feel of cold beyond cold returned to her, seeping through Fir¡¯s gown with ease. She didn¡¯t shiver now; she was beyond that. On the horizon, she could see another spot of Palelight. It wasn¡¯t the sun. She had to remember that. Sunlight was only a distant memory, but that didn¡¯t prevent a sliver of hope from stabbing at Fir¡¯s heart. Some things couldn¡¯t be blocked out, often mundane things which left her bemused. Time passed, or was that only her imagination? Warmth, then cold. Grey, then back to black. Fir stumbled onwards, half expecting to see bloodied footprints behind her, when the Palelight granted her sight, but then shaking her head when she remembered. Such things were of no concern now. There was only the path. Footsteps Hills followed hills, and the path followed the hills. Fir moved beyond time now, measuring her journey with footsteps instead. She counted an eon of footsteps. Was her stomach crying out at her for sustenance, her throat screaming and choked with grit? No, that wasn¡¯t her concern here. Was it? Fir sometimes forgot what was real here, and what was not. An eternity came and went, swallowed by the Unquiet. Fir found herself staying away from the roots by the side of the path more and more, feeling something vaguely like she remembered fear to be on the few occasions she slipped and her foot came close to the edge of a cobblestone. Were the roots getting closer, the path getting smaller? No, it had to just be her mind playing tricks on her. But why had her muddled thoughts taken this long to turn on her? She had been walking for so long, with her thoughts faded beyond her comprehension. And when was the last time Fir had felt the warmth of Palelight, seen the darkness lessen slightly?You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. The Unquiet seemed more oppressive now, pushing against the boundaries of the path with a calm ferocity. There was no Palelight left to maintain the boundaries - Fir¡¯s mind retained that thought at least. She dared to look back, seeing nothing but path and hills before an uncontrollable instinct drove her eyes forwards again. Any Palelight which had been there had long ago been swallowed by the Unquiet. That, or she had simply walked out of sight. She hoped it was that, and there was still a path behind her, still a patch of Palelight to return to if the Unquiet became too much. Not that returning was an option anyway. Memoria Forwards was the only way, Fir remembered that much. Keep to the path - that was another voice. Not hers, though. Somebody had told her that, once. What was the last voice? The last memory? She was sure there was something else, something she had forgotten. But it was all fading, memory dispersing like mist on the wind. Memory joined the Unquiet. The path continued, to her relief, but it was definitely smaller than before. She almost came close to touching a root, once. Fir hadn¡¯t been told about the roots, but she wasn¡¯t stupid. She knew that touching the roots would be touching the Unquiet, which was the reason why forwards was the only way. Forwards meant staying on the path, which meant staying away from the Unquiet hills. It hadn¡¯t always been like this. Fir remembered, or thought she did. Night hadn¡¯t always been this long. Once the sun had banished the night, at least before the Unquiet came. There had been others, then. Now, there was only the path. ¡®Forwards is the only way.¡¯ Pine leaned over, her coarse hair brushing Fir¡¯s cheek, warm breath caressing the tip of her nose. ¡®Don¡¯t forget that, whatever you do. Keep to the path, and don¡¯t stop moving!¡¯Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Fir jolted awake, or at least she became aware of the path again. She hadn¡¯t stopped walking; she was still in the middle of the path like nothing had changed, but she knew she hadn¡¯t been here for a moment. Something nagged in the back of her mind. That had been a fragment, but there had been more to it than that. That was a fragment of a fragment. Something was missing. Pine jerked backwards suddenly, and her hands fell away. ¡®There isn¡¯t long now,¡¯ she whispered, and an odd light shone in her almond eyes. ¡®Oh, and one last thing-¡® Dampness on Fir¡¯s check jolted her back to the path again. Why was this happening? She had come so far already that she thought she had left this behind by now. Her fingers crept up to feel something wet on her cheek. She realised that beyond the veil in her head, one emotion shone brighter than the others. She thought she had faded that emotion away already and began to push it away again, but not before she felt it. Sadness. A vast, vast sadness - grief unconsolable, desolation irreversible. The dampness on Fir¡¯s cheek grew heavier, and she almost cried out. She stopped walking. Silent Voices Now that the soft patter of her footsteps had stopped, for the first time in eternity, Fir became aware of something else. A sound, behind her, indistinct and soft as if from a great distance, and at the same time urgent and ushering in her ears. It was¡­ a voice. Fir smiled, even as her mind took a step back, and for a moment the path was no longer central in her vision. No, her vision was swinging around, hills changing and darkness shifting. ¡®Oh, and one last thing.¡¯ Pine looked back at her tenderly, suddenly from a great distance away. Yet simultaneously Fir felt her hand on her cheek. ¡®DON¡¯T LOOK BACK!¡¯ Pine screamed, a mournful, despairing cry, distant but also accompanied by hot breath heavy on Fir¡¯s face.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Fir became aware that she was looking at the path again, but her eyes were drawn instead to the horizon. Those were not the same hills, nor that the same bleakness. Far away inside her head, a voice was screaming, You have to keep walking! You can¡¯t look back if you¡¯re not walking away! Then there¡¯s nothing to stop- ¡®Elena.¡¯ The voice reached her ears again, again feeling distant yet close. ¡®Elena.¡¯ It was a familiar voice. It belonged to almond eyes and rough but gentle hair which Fir remembered from a time long gone. But the path behind her wasn¡¯t empty! Fir could have laughed, though part of her was recoiling in mindless terror. There was light back there! How could she have missed that, even entranced as she was? Fir began to walk again. Back. The Temptation STOP! NO! NO! NOT BACK! Fir screamed, but she was only watching, as if through someone else¡¯s eyes. She screamed, until her words ceased to be words and only meaningless cries of despair. Every step she took, she felt a part of herself tearing away. She wasn¡¯t going forwards anymore. A voice shrieked in her head, then died. But she didn¡¯t even feel like she was moving anymore - she certainly wasn¡¯t going further along the path anymore, even though her eyes told her she was. It almost seemed like the light was approachingg her, not the other way around. No. She knew the light was getting closer. ¡®Elena.¡¯ Fir took another step forwards, or was it backwards? The path seemed even narrower now, but how was that possible? She had just walked through here - the path ought to be getting wider, not narrower. ¡®Elena.¡¯The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The Unquiet grew restless, stifling, despite the increasing proximity of the light. In the back of her mind, Fir had a chilling realisation. This wasn¡¯t Palelight. ¡®Elena.¡¯ As the light got closer, it became tinged with orange, gaining a warm hue unlike the cold grey Palelight. It became brighter too, and Fir¡¯s vision became spotted and distorted with blinding shapes. ¡®Elena.¡¯ It dawned on her. This was sunlight! ¡®Elena!¡¯ Sunlight. Not Palelight. Sunlight wasn¡¯t real - it was impossible. ¡®ELENA!¡¯ It wasn¡¯t Palelight. Fir looked beyond the sunlight, and saw darkness darker than night. She saw herself being swallowed by bottomless blackness, a void. The Unquiet shied away from this light that was not light, tendrils creeping back from the path, leaving deep scars in the cobblestones. She saw Pine - or was it Iris? - beyond that light. She saw more impossibilities: colour, emotion untinged by sadness, others. But that wasn¡¯t here, that wasn¡¯t real. Fir grabbed hold of her unquenchable sadness, used it to drive herself through the barriers of her own mind, and feeling returned to her body. Cold, so much cold. Pain, anguish, more than what was simply in her memory. This wasn¡¯t light. This wasn¡¯t Palelight. Return It seemed to take forever, but she grasped control of her limbs, stopped walking, if she was walking at all. Fir¡¯s eyes clouded with tears, fracturing the not-light, and she wrenched her head away.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Before she knew it she was running, running once more into the unknown, forcing her feet to remain in the centre of the path, for once content with the draining Unquiet, knowing that Unquiet was not the worst thing she had to fear. The worst thing she had to fear was looking back.