Secrets in the Shards: Prologue

He couldn't think.
Any ounce of will that he may have harbored was slowly drained from his being; each limb stiff and rigid with the inability to move. Everything seemed to have lost its internal rhythm, incapable of carrying on their daily duties.

A shudder coursed through his body as he thought of what possibly awaited him in the still darkness; lying with the intent of drawing what life there was left. On and on they rampaged and crawled through his mind, raising the hairs at the nape of his neck. Would there be any relief from this endless cycle?

With a start and flailing mentality, he attempted to draw himself out from this plane of nightmare; to call off the feeling of floating with nothing to hold him aloft. To return to reality and the comforts it held for the wakeful mortal.

His struggle to stir from the landscape of sleep and memory finally chose to pay him his due and allowed him to claw his way out; worldly sensations now invading. The rustle of leaves and branches creaking in a mild wind. Crickets chirping and nocturnal birds singing their last songs into the night. The gurgle of a far-off brook feeding into a river.

Slowly his heart quieted and the frigid air cooled the sweat on his brow, proving yet again that he was still apart of the living dominion.

Taking one last glance around, he settled back in to the nook of the oak and closed his eyes. Though his dreams were often unwelcome, he was going to need what the partial rest would bring, re-energizing his body and soul. There was little comfort for the one who was to attempt revenge. Perhaps even none at all.