We heard Starlark’s voice this morning. For a brief moment we were able to shout to him and hear his response, but no amount of it brought us any closer to him. In fact as we moved towards his voice, the last thing we heard from him seemed to come from the opposite direction.
The Deadwood is full of illusions and terrors. The sudden screams that seem to come from the trees themselves get no less startling with time. Then there are the spirits. Last night I am certain I saw a wraith moving among the trees. It was coming nearer to us, steadily drawing close. I could see it. Feel it.
I could not speak. Even though I felt compelled to scream I could not. I was too terrified. Deteriorating rags hung from it, its eyes sunken black, and its fingers… inhumanly long. It moved from tree to tree until it stood before me. It looked straight through me, right into my very soul. It cocked its head and whispered, “Lystra.”
Then it screamed.
I screamed then too, but it had vanished. No one saw it but me. I have no way of knowing if it was an illusion or not, but it felt so very real… more real in a way than anything I have ever experienced.
Sleep is not forthcoming in this place. Ghosts, in every sense of the word, most certainly are.
As we walked later I sensed a break in the activity of whatever magic is master of this place. I came across it like a sudden dip in the ground, it felt like a gap of silence in constant noise. I called for Dionus, but by the time he came it was too late. A few hours later, however, he found one of his own.
Both of us sensed the silence pointing in a particular direction, as if funneled there. We must keep our wits about us as best we can in this ashen jungle of madness. Hopefully this is the clue we have been searching for to leave it.
Dionus has me worried though. He’s itching for something, I can see it in him. The fight with the KoraKora has opened some desire in him. I hope we can get out of here before he does something foolish.