Chapter 1: The long night Part 1

Elizabeth had a theory that when Visitors arrived on Toblitche, something tore at the bottom of the sea. An event none could divert their attention from, as if the Island rejected the existence of people outside Ichemound's domain. The clouds and the earth beneath would quake and crack, ridged spikes protruded, and animals and people alike would panic as if they never stood a chance.

She'd never witnessed one firsthand, but so far, it was everything she could have wished for.

Stationed in the Chieftain's quarters, a small building built on the edge of town. Constructed from gray wood, a cutting-edge material for battling Toblitche's harsh weather, it formed the basis of all buildings. Minimal decor filled the inside with only the sparse flag representing their affiliation lining the walls, a shrewd eye with a red background, the Eye of Rendition.

Elizabeth sat in front of the window, her hands resting on the bottom of her chin, admiring the view. The winds were picking up, and so was the rain.

Along with her was a man named Shane, her father. Found at the entrance of Gray Wood, frail but alive. Wandering for hours, stuck inside a forest that could take her away at a moment's notice. It was too early to remember, but she could feel the fright from back then, the hopelessness. And strangely enough, where she believes her obsession with the Island began.

She longed to comprehend her fear, even lacking prior awareness of the contents. Fear existed innately, even in the youngest child. Yet misconstrued as something holy; so it made little sense to her.

"Three more months of this," Elizabeth said. "Hopefully we can make it." The window shook violently, the wind pressing against the glass with immense pressure.

"Don't say that, we'll be fine." Unlike her, Shane seemed unresponsive to their current circumstances, lacking a sense of wonder. She wondered when he'd lost that drive to learn more about the Island. Her conviction centered on the existence of an innate feeling.

Right before them, the world could have been ending, but the near utterance of the subject would halt her. The subject represented a delicate matter within church communities, especially when it involved those from outside, and given his position, it must have been very stressful for him. She could only wonder what was going on in his head.

Darker clouds began gathering in mass among its gray brethren, taking over like a plague. Only when the whole sky became covered in a thick layer of grime would the peak of its progress commence, and winds morph into something monstrous. A vortex half the size of the island consumed the surrounding clouds, ocean, and anything it could grasp, an unnatural event, terrifying even but fascinating in others.

Amazed in every sense of the word. The storm went completely against anything natural: the speed it strengthened and its length...

She peered at the map nailed to the back wall.

"I bet even the people in Ichemound could see it. Seen nothing like it. Can't believe it's happening."

She was obsessed with all the knowledge surrounding Toblitche and the world beyond it. The idea of a Visitor always piqued the sides of the brain that wondered about all the unexplainable things in her world. But there was always one mystery that seemed out of reach, even as all events were leading towards the eventual conclusion, was unattainable.

What is their world like?

A constant hankering thought that received nothing of value, an empty plot begging to be filled.

It was told Visitors came from the other side. A plane of existence only the chosen people would be born from. The random but important piece to anybody who wishes to climb the hierarchy of power that might rival the capital, Ichemound.

"You ever get curious about what's out there." She leaned to the window, her nose pressing against the glass. Her gray eyes reflected into the glass, reminding her of her mother. She turned away instinctively.

"Careful what you say, Liz, you never know who's listening." Shane was scanning through a pile of papers as she spoke. Such was the job as the Chieftain of Diedmons Roue, a never-ending list of complaints from the church.

"How about you take a break from that and watch outside with me? It's getting interesting, y'know! Looks like a cyclone might form!". She turned her head with vigor and smiled, her hair flowing into her face.

"You might be the only person who's excited about this. You and that librarian."

"His name is Luka." She remarked, brushing her hair back into her beanie.

"And he's the reason you're looking outside like that. It's just a storm, nothing more. Once it passes, we'll go on with our lives until the Visitor arrives. Simple as that."

"Yeah, so simple…" she muttered the last part. Change would occur. Life in Diedmon's Roue would flip upside down, and the once-forgotten town would change. Favored to the highest bitter; a Visitor's knowledge of any worth had a plethora of importance, which meant Solomon Grimmer, the king, would hold them to a higher standard. As a result, a herald of his would soon come. Elizabeth knew who it was.

"I hear Mr. Beckman's been making the rounds around the outskirts. You think he's coming here?." She smirked as a grimace of disgust washed over his face. His beard covered most of it, and the slight showings of red were erupting from the base of his neck.

"Who knows?"

"I'm sure we have lots to talk about, don't we?"

"Hehe, I'm sure we do!." He drove his pen deeper into the paper, piercing through several stacks before hitting the desk with a thump. He stood up, storming off into the other room.

"Now's my chance." Given the opportunity, she shot up but stopped when, out of the corner of her eye, the storm changed.

There was an immediate change in atmosphere, tense, goosebumps ran up and down her body, and above all else, she felt sick. Forced down to her knees.

She attempted to scream, but her voice wouldn't escape her mouth. Instead, she continued her attempt to stand, her body resisting every step. Each foot she firmly planted would slip and fall right back down to the floor. She experienced intense pain, followed by a visceral crunch that she attempted to ignore as she continued to stand up. Liquid beads of heat trickled down her mouth, and as she finally had a firm foot on the ground, she stood up.

She shot up, panting as she struggled to catch her breath with the strength that continued to persevere.

A vacuum of space prevented all oxygen from going near her, and she suffocated. Images flashed before her eyes of the ocean, water splashing in and out of her mouth. Each attempt at breathing was unsuccessful. Panic seeped through her mind, replacing any rational thought that was left. It was only when her eyes met the storm again, the hole in the sky meeting her gaze that everything returned to normal, and when she blinked, she just exited the building.

"What..." She wiped her cheek, but nothing was there. The pain was gone and the crunch she'd heard became a memory. She couldn't think of any answer.

The world's silence interrupted her thoughts, and her attention focused on the storm. Slowly her eyes moved toward the sky, the building blocking half of what was the cyclone. Stepping away from the building, the scope of the remains became clearer and clearer until the entire sky was in full view.

In her peripheral vision, she noticed others began exiting their houses. There was one, then the two, then four, then seven, then twenty-five, then a hundred. In unison, they pointed.

What was left from the storm was a hole—a spinning crater with no attainable end. If the dark hues hadn't covered the edges, Elizabeth would've thought this was the entrance to heaven the Christians talked about. But this wasn't it. She didn't know why but knew this couldn't be it. Whatever this was, it wasn't supposed to happen.

Shane stormed out of the building, grasped Elizabeth's arm, and attempted to drag her back inside, but she wouldn't budge. He noticed the group gathered quickly and followed in their action.

"What the hell is that?" Squinting his eyes, his confusion quickly turned to fright. He grabbed Elizabeth by her arm, threw her inside, and followed closely behind, slamming the door behind him.

Broken by whatever trance plagued her, she was dazed—but only for a second. Given only a small amount of time to register what happened, the screams that began erupting from outside brought her back.

The both of them clasped their ears shut. Their screams were a mix of muffled and others' pure anguish, as if they were being burned. She couldn't mistake it for anything else, and the smell that followed confirmed that. Metallic, Acrid, and strong, it was nauseating, and she begged for it to end.

For several hours, they stayed inside as they waited for the last people who survived the onslaught of whatever had erupted from the hole. No one was brave enough to test it; no one was brave enough to help any survivors, and the ones that were figured whatever came next from them was better than how they were now. Shane was one of those few and above all, the one who should have taken charge. But Elizabeth knew that if she weren't there, he would've. He couldn't take that chance, not until it was completely safe.

Was this common? There was no writing, no warning. They'd received from the capital that something like this was possible. And none of the Schnee even mentioned this; she was sure some of them even became victims of it. Now more than ever was the time to question, but given she wouldn't have even been in that situation if her curiosity hadn't gotten to her; Shane must have realized that, too.

Without warning, he grabbed the doorknob and swiftly slid out, only leaving the door open for a second. She scampered to her feet and then to the window.

"No, no, no, no, what are you doing?" She attempted to wipe off the mist that accumulated on the other side of the window in a panic. Pressing her eye on the glass, she scanned for him, her rapid breathing fogging it even further. But after a few seconds, she couldn't see anything. There was only one thing she could do. She grabbed the doorknob and turned.

"Shane!" she shouted but didn't need to. He was standing only a few feet away, and others gathered with him on the road.

Farther up the sloop toward the church, a group came in droves. They all stopped before they contacted the source of the smell. No one spoke; gandering at something no one could explain.

They were dead, a hundred of them, maybe a bit more. There was a clear point where the fire hadn't traveled, around the midpoint of their torse. And above all else, they were standing. Not collapsed on the ground, crawling to any safety. They were as erratic as the last time she'd seen them. She could even picture them pointing at the sky. They'd been dead several hours ago and yet the screams lasted much longer than that.

Compelled to take one last look, she turned toward the sky. The hole remained, and a voice harked from within.

Darkness treads along the land, driven by maleficent gusts of piercing wind. Rivers draw back, afraid of the rolling black clouds that replaced the once-white sky. In a flash of light, striking from the heavens onto the ground below, lightning struck in pairs of three and four, and in its final smite, it birthed an unwelcome visitor. Being washed ashore upon Ichemound domain, a man clinging to life given a new purpose.