Without a Name by Veonira

Winner for January 2005

A single hand moved over the decaying wooden fence, savoring the feel of rotted
wood. The top of a post was grasped timorously, and it trembled beneath the
touch. The fence itself was ancient, falling apart due to neglect and poor
conditions. An opening in the fence indicated that a gate once existed, but
all that remained were broken hinges. The young girl bit her lip timidly as
she stared blankly into the enclosed area, a shimmer of fear existing behind
red eyes. She whimpered softly as she dragged her hand over a rusted nail,
fighting back a tear as she grabbed her palm where a shallow cut had been
inflicted.

A cloud of smoke rose from a nearby fire, accompanied by the smell of
decomposing bodies. The ground was composed of dirt, and tents and huts had
been erected to form the tiny village of outcasts. She had never been here
before, yet it somehow felt like home. The smells…the sights…they were all
familiar. Looking around, her eyes lingered on a frightening man; a man with
fangs and scales. Or perhaps he was not as terrifying as she imagined, as she
ran her hand over a patch of blood red scales on her forearm. The man caught
her eyes and approached slowly. A quick smile spread on his lips before his
face became emotionless once again.

"Here," he said quietly. It was but one word and one hand that he offered.
She acquiesced and placed her petite hand in his. She was alone, young, and
afraid of what was to come in her near future. It may have been her need for a
companion, or a need for a guide, but she did not give a second thought once she
had given her hand. It was an unspoken agreement.

She walked, guided by the man's hand. She watched an old building approach, a
sense of familiarity striking her. It seemed to be in a state of near
collapse, yet it had a majesty to it that could not be described. While the
building itself was essentially destroyed, wood having been scavenged from it
and upper floors caving in, a makeshift shelter had been created on the first
floor. The man led her inside, motioning towards a small, ripped cot placed in
the corner of the room.

"I know what you seek. But first, you must rest and regain your strength." The
man tucked a blanket in around her as she crawled onto the cot.

Night passed, accompanied by the sound of wind and of drunken chatter. It was
a restless night for her, and one thought alone plagued her mind. A nightmare
visited her dreams, one that had come to her in her slumber for many months.
It was only a few words, scribbled, near illegible words carved onto a flat
piece of wood. She knew it had a meaning, that she had seen it before and that
it was calling to her. She awoke to a hand lightly grasping her shoulder and
giving a quick shake. She looked up to see the man with the scales staring
down at her.

"It's time."

She stood up and rubbed her eyes. She glanced over to the door, and, seeing
that the man was already waiting for her, moved to follow him. She trailed
along behind the man, watching him with intensity as his long strides took them
ever closer to their final destination. This was it. This was the moment she
had been both looking forward to and fearing for several months, ever since the
dreams had begun. This time, she passed through the opening in the fence, the
fence she had just recently touched so timidly. She felt a hint of pain in her
palm as she was reminded of the rusting nail she had so carelessly cut herself
on.

She stared at the graveyard around her. Many wooden planks were strewn upon the
ground. So distracted was she by these planks that she failed to see the
massive pit that lay before her. She found herself surrounded by rotten
corpses, long since thrown into the pit yet never fully buried. Her eyes
widened, not in horror but in amazement and curiosity. The way their bodies
had decomposed, both from the course of nature and from the Taint, was
fascinating. She found her eyes staring at their faces, trying to make sense
of their expressions. She would have lingered to gaze at them had she not been
pulled out of the pit by a pair of strong hands. The man grasped her by the
hand and continued to lead her through the small graveyard.

"Open your eyes. There's nothing to be afraid of." Her eyes had closed by
then. Fear had overtaken her ability to reason as she felt their journey come
to a halt. She opened her eyes slowly. Following the gesture of the man's
hand, she noticed one particularly worn, wooden plank on the ground. She
approached it hesitantly, her stomach filled with an empty, churning sensation.
Kneeling down, the plank was just as she had pictured it. There was a bit of
dirt that had been blown by the wind onto it, and she reached out a hand to
delicately brush it off.

Ethali Volnearn

She would later try to explain what this man, no, this village, had meant to
her, but words could never come close to expressing that feeling. After she
had read the name, she exchanged a silent nod with the man, and he proceeded to
lead her out of the graveyard. They walked together to a fire that many others
had gathered around and sat, awaiting the meal that was being cooked. She had
come to find her home in the Gloaming, with those that had nowhere else to
turn.