09-05-2015, 07:36 PM
Declan Gregory,
PPC
The day's excursion expended more effort than Declan was used to in recent months. Adding the weight of his pack, the thickness of snow they trudged, and the frailty of the air he should have sank into a hard sleep that night. Yet his mind hovered between consciousness and sleep and the snores of his fellow hikers were not comforting. What fear kept his mind at bay he could not guess. The sleeping bag was confining, but warm. Slowly the hours passed but he knew he slept only by the fit that startled him awake again. Eventually, light seeped through the tent walls, and his eyes were the first to see the first ray of sun crawl its way between mountain peeks. Daruka was soon awake and Soren stirred as well, but Declan remained in his sleeping bag. With the others awake he felt the lull to sleep, like their presence guarded him from what he feared waited on the other side. But again, with the day, came the cool-headedness of logic and he sat up, rubbing dark eyes. Breakfast was mere sustenance and he was poor company. A short hike remained before they emerged upon the lake of doom itself and he was anxious to get there. If only to prove to himself the foolishenss of his nerves.
"No dreams,"
he told Soren when he had the chance. But the sunkeness of his eyes gave him away. "But I did not sleep deep enough to dream."
He wanted to express his gratitude for Soren's presence but the words didn't form. The rest of the morning passed with few words between them. Their plans had already been discussed. Go to the lake, examine the remains see on satellite, search the lake bed and uplink to home once found. Easy.
Daruka led them true. Two hours after departing camp, the path led to a sharp crest in the mountainside. Declan held his hand to his eyes and took a deep breath to peer along the opposite down slope. In a hollow in the mountain, like a bowl, some fifty feet below was an unbelievably smooth surface, a gleaming blue disk like a forgotten coin left behind by the gods of the sky. The landscape all around was powdered white, gleaming pristine in the early morning sun. But the ice lacked such a blanket. It was the clearest water Declan had ever imagined. Only a meter deep it was likely frozen solid through, but shadows littered its floor. A chill shot down Declan's spine. Those were the bodies found within the lake a century ago. Perfectly preserved, frozen in time forever. Trapped within the crystal waters that was their grave site for a thousand years. They were majestic to look upon with his own two eyes and certainly terrible enough a sight to inspire nightmares, but a quiet voice whispered in his mind like wind. These ancient Mongolian soldiers were not the guardians of the lake, they were the victims of it. Legends. Foolishness. He told himself, shushing the warning in the back of his mind as other, more pertinent, shapes pulled his eyes away. Noah and his team were here but weeks. Their lumps were covered with fresh inches of powder, but unmistakable.
"Noah,"
Declan uttered and curiosity overcame his fear. He hurried down to the lake and stopped above the body of his colleague. The anthropologist in him hastened itself to the surface and he didn't immediately disturb the scene. Instead, he exchanged glances with Soren. "I'll look for cause of death if you want to examine the lake itself. Noah said something was under it. Besides skeletons we already knew existed, I don't know what else there is to find."
Declan recalled the thrill in Noah's voice moments before that howling wind claimed his life. He had been adamant something else was in the lake. If something was there, it was hidden from mortal eyes.
A gust touched the back of his neck as he knelt down. A normal wind, he told himself and brushed the snow from Noah's face.
PPC
The day's excursion expended more effort than Declan was used to in recent months. Adding the weight of his pack, the thickness of snow they trudged, and the frailty of the air he should have sank into a hard sleep that night. Yet his mind hovered between consciousness and sleep and the snores of his fellow hikers were not comforting. What fear kept his mind at bay he could not guess. The sleeping bag was confining, but warm. Slowly the hours passed but he knew he slept only by the fit that startled him awake again. Eventually, light seeped through the tent walls, and his eyes were the first to see the first ray of sun crawl its way between mountain peeks. Daruka was soon awake and Soren stirred as well, but Declan remained in his sleeping bag. With the others awake he felt the lull to sleep, like their presence guarded him from what he feared waited on the other side. But again, with the day, came the cool-headedness of logic and he sat up, rubbing dark eyes. Breakfast was mere sustenance and he was poor company. A short hike remained before they emerged upon the lake of doom itself and he was anxious to get there. If only to prove to himself the foolishenss of his nerves.
"No dreams,"
he told Soren when he had the chance. But the sunkeness of his eyes gave him away. "But I did not sleep deep enough to dream."
He wanted to express his gratitude for Soren's presence but the words didn't form. The rest of the morning passed with few words between them. Their plans had already been discussed. Go to the lake, examine the remains see on satellite, search the lake bed and uplink to home once found. Easy.
Daruka led them true. Two hours after departing camp, the path led to a sharp crest in the mountainside. Declan held his hand to his eyes and took a deep breath to peer along the opposite down slope. In a hollow in the mountain, like a bowl, some fifty feet below was an unbelievably smooth surface, a gleaming blue disk like a forgotten coin left behind by the gods of the sky. The landscape all around was powdered white, gleaming pristine in the early morning sun. But the ice lacked such a blanket. It was the clearest water Declan had ever imagined. Only a meter deep it was likely frozen solid through, but shadows littered its floor. A chill shot down Declan's spine. Those were the bodies found within the lake a century ago. Perfectly preserved, frozen in time forever. Trapped within the crystal waters that was their grave site for a thousand years. They were majestic to look upon with his own two eyes and certainly terrible enough a sight to inspire nightmares, but a quiet voice whispered in his mind like wind. These ancient Mongolian soldiers were not the guardians of the lake, they were the victims of it. Legends. Foolishness. He told himself, shushing the warning in the back of his mind as other, more pertinent, shapes pulled his eyes away. Noah and his team were here but weeks. Their lumps were covered with fresh inches of powder, but unmistakable.
"Noah,"
Declan uttered and curiosity overcame his fear. He hurried down to the lake and stopped above the body of his colleague. The anthropologist in him hastened itself to the surface and he didn't immediately disturb the scene. Instead, he exchanged glances with Soren. "I'll look for cause of death if you want to examine the lake itself. Noah said something was under it. Besides skeletons we already knew existed, I don't know what else there is to find."
Declan recalled the thrill in Noah's voice moments before that howling wind claimed his life. He had been adamant something else was in the lake. If something was there, it was hidden from mortal eyes.
A gust touched the back of his neck as he knelt down. A normal wind, he told himself and brushed the snow from Noah's face.