Sark

Crystal Prison. Left head of Sarkalataska, an emperor.

(Pending Capsule)

An innocent yearling; guardian of a fragment of shade.




~~Snippet~~

“Be careful” his mother always said. “You never know when a storm will come up.”
Sark whimpered as he pulled himself to his feet, his wings scraping the narrow walls of the crevasse. A dim glow came from above, telling him the cave entrance was out of reach, back above the sheer walls. “Well, if I can’t go back, I suppose I can only go forward.” Sark’s brave words only made him feel smaller as they quavered into the oppressive darkness.

Determined to not repeat his earlier mistake, Sark felt his way step by careful step down the crevasse. There were no smaller sounds here, so every scrape of Sark’s wings and hitch of breath sounded unnaturally loud. Sark bit back a hiss as his injured paws scraped against loose stones, then blinked. Was that a gleam of light? A few more cautious steps and Sark slid out of the narrow passage and stretched his wings anxiously. The light appeared to still be there. Sark felt the floor and resumed his painfully slow approach to the light, which revealed itself to be a pale-glowing fungus snuggled against the cave wall. After the absolute darkness of the passage, it seemed as friendly a sign as a ray of sunlight. Sark gave a sob of relief and scrabbled towards the light. He could see! Not far, but he could at least see a bit, enough to sit a few minutes and examine his new collection of scrapes and cracks. The darkness seemed all the more impenetrable the longer he sat, however, and the more he contemplated leaving this refuge of sight, the more the pit of dread in his stomach gaped.

But he couldn’t stay here forever. Sark pushed thoughts of his parents looking for him out of his mind. It was going to be fine. He was going to find a way out. He pushed himself away, allowing the darkness to swallow him once more as he inched his way forward by touch. His eyes, resolutely turned from his resting place, caught another gleam of light in the distance. Another patch of fungus, this one sending out several proud mushroom heads that leaned precariously down from the top of a rock. Even while standing in the dim glow, he could see another splash of light. Sark’s spirits lifted as he felt his way to the next oasis, this time a whole patch glimmering along a thin stream and freckling nearby boulders. Water! This stream had to exit this cave somewhere, and the glowing fungus seemed more plentiful along its banks. Besides, even if the mushrooms failed him, it would be easy to follow the stream by touch; Sark quickly waded into the icy water. His luck was finally turning for the better.

Splashing through the water allowed Sark to make better time. The glowing fungus was more common along the stream, and the downhill slope was easier for his tired limbs. Slithering around tumbled boulders, Sark followed the stream to the wall, and smiled with relief. The stream had worn a dragon-sized passage through the rock. Sending a prayer to whatever deity was watching over him that he wasn’t fully grown yet, Sark squeezed into the narrow space, reassured by the dim light ahead and the water at his feet that he was on the right track.

There appeared to be a low boulder at the end of the passage, but it would be an easy feat to clear it, even for a young imperial. Sark placed his forefeet on the boulder. After even the dim light of the mushrooms, he could make out nothing in the open space before him. Gathering himself for a leap, he was stopped abruptly by a sharp cracking sound and a sudden bursting pain in his throat. His startled cry became a wet gurgle as liquid spilled down his chest. Sark felt himself fall into darkness.