Opalina (prime)/The Whisper Between Shadows

The Whisper Between Shadows

This is a creative work set in the world of Elanthia, attributed to its original author(s). It does not necessarily represent the official lore of GemStone IV.

Title: The Whisper Between Shadows

Author: Opalina Jalcon

From the journals of Opalina Jalcon- 2-10-2002

Sometimes evil does not arrive with a scream.

Sometimes it settles over a room as quietly as fog.

The moment the black mist rose from the box, I knew something was wrong. Everyone else laughed at first. Jarlstrom made jokes, Lavistan scratched his head, and someone blamed an imaginary foul smell. They laughed because laughter is easier than fear.

I couldn't.

The darkness drifted over all of us like a living blanket. It wasn't merely smoke. It watched. It listened. I could feel it brushing against my thoughts, searching for cracks.

"I don't like that," I whispered, and for once I wished my instincts were wrong.

They weren't.

The conversation turned—as it always did—to the Staff.

I begged them to understand.

"If I don't..." I told them, "...people will die anyway."

How could I explain what the Essence whispered to me? That every path I could see ended in loss? That choosing nothing was still a choice? They wanted certainty, but certainty had abandoned me long ago.

Belthania believed someone else would simply retrieve the Staff if I refused.

Perhaps.

But the one who holds it now will surrender it to neither Thurfel nor the Essence.

That is why it remains safe.

That truth mattered more than anything.

Then it happened.

Words left my mouth that were not mine.

"If you do not aid me... and the Staff falls to Thurfel... you will all only have yourselves to blame when Icemule is sundered."

The room froze.

I felt my stomach twist.

"I didn't say that!"

Every eye turned toward me.

"The Essence said that."

There is no terror quite like hearing your own voice betray you.

I have faced blades.

I have faced monsters.

But hearing another will speak through my lips...

That chilled me deeper than any winter wind.

The black substance upon the table writhed.

It moved.

Not like smoke.

Like something alive.

Everyone searched for explanations.

I already feared I knew one.

"It's not the table."

I watched the darkness pulse.

"It's him... or something he sent."

No one wanted to believe me.

Then the mist began to change.

Its shape folded inward until it became a tiny black scorpion.

Ridiculous.

Harmless-looking.

Jarlstrom, being Jarlstrom, immediately tried to stomp it.

The creature answered.

"That was foolish."

The laughter died.

I stared at the impossible thing.

"What was foolish?"

"I am here to deliver a message."

Not for everyone.

For me.

The tiny creature lifted its stinger.

Toward me.

Toward Opalina.

I wished, for just a heartbeat, that I were anywhere else.

Its voice was cold.

Emotionless.

"Forget the Staff. Forget the liches. Forget Thurfel. Do not aid or hinder them in any way. They have all angered my master... and shall face his wrath."

Then...

It vanished.

Just like that.

No battle.

No explanation.

Only silence.

"What?"

The word escaped before I could stop it.

"What does that mean?"

No one knew.

Delyian wondered aloud if something worse than Thurfel... worse than the Essence... waited beyond the horizon.

I wish I could dismiss the thought.

Instead...

The familiar whisper returned inside my mind.

"That was clearly some parlor trick of Thurfel's. Never you mind that."

But I did mind.

Because I have learned something dreadful.

The loudest lies are not the dangerous ones.

The dangerous lies are whispered by voices that sound as though they already know your heart.

And lately...

Far too many voices know mine.