* * *
The smearing, shifting land, spiralling sky and blurring, meteor-like stars forced Rillish to close his eyes else vomit or faint. He lowered his head into the smoky mane of his mount. He clenched his eyes, wondered just what it was they rode upon then wished he hadn't. Gay laughter from ahead forced him to look – Nil and Nether sharing grins of victory, laughing their confidence, hair flying. As if they'd feared they all could've died immediately I He glanced back and wished he hadn't. The land they rode upon was disappearing behind them as they passed, collapsing, falling away, revealing emptiness – Abyss – behind. Ye gods! Ride!
Overhead the great empty bowl of the night sky turned so fast the stars blurred like spun torches. A sun rose, fat and carmine – a bloated travesty of what he knew as the sun. Was it ill? Some peoples, he knew, worshipped the sun as a god. Its crimson light revealed that ahead lay … nothing. A dirt surface appeared before their column as if called into existence by the will of all the witches and warlocks bound to the twins. The surface supported them only to fall away once more into the miasma of the Abyss.
Ride, lads and lasses! Ride!
The glow of the horses’ eyes shocked him – all whites! Unconscious! But of course, what animal could endure such chaos? And so they ran, pulled along by the will of the warlocks. And he and all those who followed as well! He saw that at some point he'd unsheathed a sword, and, laughing, he awkwardly resheathed it. What use such a pathetic instrument?
Something moved upon the face of the unformed, churning sky – distant yet immense – wings outstretched, long tail lashing. A body of rib and spine only – a skeleton dragon? And why not? In such a place where everything yet nothing is possible. And farther yet, if such things as distance applied here, a great dark fortress. Static, brooding. Appearing to float upon nothing. What were these things? Hallucinations?
He glanced back and the hair on his neck and arms rose, charged. It was gaining! The land was falling away closer and closer upon their rear. Nothingness was overtaking them!
Ride, fools! Death's reaching!
The twins pointed ahead where a dark smear stained the churning miasma ahead. Our gate? But so far! Rillish glanced back again and screamed. The rear ranks were slipping off the edge, hooves scrabbling, horses tumbling, men and women spinning backwards from sight. He kicked his mount savagely, almost weeping.
Ride to the Abyss!