Over the Ridge

Druknet continued forward, swallowed by the darkness. The world around him had become pitch black, as though a dark curtain had been dropped over the night sky. Behind him faint specks of light from the village flickered in the distance.

He couldn't light his lantern just yet. If he did, they’d see him.

Every step he took had to be careful and measured. The only thing guiding him now was the distant roar of the ocean, echoing faintly in the dark.

If he could just get past the ridge, he'd hopefully be out of both sight and reach of the villagers and the druagen. From there, he would just have to contend with the wilderness until he made it to another trace of civilization.

The ground beneath his feet grew treacherous. Water left behind by the storm had begun to freeze, turning the rocks slick and unforgiving. A gust of wind blew at him, trying to knock him off balance. He treaded each step with caution. If he fell now, he feared he wouldn’t get back up.

Come back. The voice slithered through the shadows.

Druknet froze. Fog rose from his mouth as he breathed heavily. He turned his head slowly, scanning the black void around him… Nothing.

“I’m not going back.” He huffed to himself.

He pressed forward again, hugging the ridge to his right tightly. The sea remained somewhere behind him with its waves seeming louder now.

Eventually, he reached a low point in the ridge. He stopped and pressed his hand against the cold stone.

I need to go higher.

He reached up, fingers grasping against the jagged surface. His feet followed as he tested his footing. Once he felt stable enough, he began to climb.

The incline was steeper than it looked. He had to catch his feet from slipping a number of times. His fingers grew numb, as the cold bit against them and his arms began to tremble under the strain.

Halfway up, his foot slid. His body lurched backward and he just barely caught himself, as his fingers scraped painfully against the rock.

“Ghhh!” He cried out.

His chest slammed against a boulder, knocking the breath from his lungs…

For a moment he hung there, suspended. If he slipped and fell from here, he’d tumble to the bottom, likely breaking his bones or even worse…

The thought sent a surge of adrenaline through him.

“No…” He gasped. “Not like this.”

His fingers burned and his joints screamed as he forced his body to continue upward again.

By the time he neared the top, his entire body felt like it was about to give out. The icy rocks pressed against his chest, as he sat still for a moment, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath.

When he tried to push himself up over the top of the ridge, his hand slipped again. His vision flashed white…

Suddenly, another hand firmly grabbed his and he felt himself pulled upright onto a flat surface.

“Watch yourself.” A familiar voice spoke.

When Druknet looked up, light flooded his eyes. The darkness was gone. He was no longer on the ridge, but rather a freshly painted white dock. The smell of salt filled the air.

“What-?...” He murmured

“So you're the new deckhand.”

Druknet froze…

Standing before him was Captain Russel

“You got a name, deckhand?”

Druknet stared. “It's-...” He hesitated, as his throat tightened. “It's Christopher.”

The name felt hollow and meaningless.

“Christopher what?” The captain pressed. His eyes lingered on Druknet, studying him.

Druknet felt uncomfortable, as if he was being exposed.

He opened his mouth. “Christopher-...”

Suddenly, the air shifted and the sound of the waves became distorted. His head began to spin, as everything faded to white…

Darkness had returned.

He stood on top of the ridge, cold and alone, while his senses returned to him.

“A memory.” he muttered.

His pulse began to pound, as his pocket suddenly began to burn. He pulled out the watch…

Tick. Tick. Tick.

It was louder than ever.

His stomach twisted as he stepped toward the edge of the ridge. He looked down. At first there was nothing… but then two white lights emerged from the darkness, unblinking as they watched him.

Christopher

The wind suddenly died down

“Stop following me!” Druknet shouted, as he took a step back from the ledge.

The eyes didn’t move or react. They just stared back at him, observantly.

Come back.

Druknet’s hand tightened. “Enough!” He screamed, while he hurled the pocket watch into the darkness below him, vanishing without a trace.

The draugen didn't react. It only continued watching.

Druknet turned and fled in the other direction. Stumbling over the uneven terrain, he pushed forward blindly through the dark.

Come back. Echoed from behind him.

He became frantic, pushing himself too fast. His foot caught a rock, twisting his ankle sharply. He fell forward hard…

A weight pushed down on his back, as he tried to get to his feet. The air suddenly grew stale and damp. A wooden floor now laid beneath his knees.

“Scrub harder!” A voice reprimanded, as a boot pressed harder down onto his back.

A man loomed over him. His face was covered in scars.

“...” Druknet remained silent.

“Useless.” The man spat, kicking Druknet in the side. “You're lucky I'm not the captain.”

The man turned away.

Druknet remained where he was, rubbing his bruises, while he slowly rose back to his feet…

Darkness once again surrounded him as he stood on the ridge. Cold air filled his lungs.

He looked around himself. The eyes no longer showed through the shadows. The draugen was nowhere to be seen.

“This should be far enough.” He murmured, nervously.

His hands shakily reached into his pocket, pulling out the box of matches. As he struck it on the side of the box, it flickered to life with a tiny flame. He lit the lantern and a warm yellow light spread outward.

The light immediately reflected off of something on the ground… Druknet froze, as something familiar laid in front of him…