Chapter One of D*** **** by Marcel Liemant

The Unburying

Speck scraped thick mud off their twin’s sunken cheeks. As the Moonslight touched his skin, they wondered if he wasn’t only asleep.

“Ember…”

Speck whispered, tasting dirt. Their voice was whipped away by the uneasy wind slicing over the cliffs above the Ocean of Oan. Above, Mudsbane Castle loomed like a giant’s spiraling claws.

It had taken three days to find their twin’s corpse. Speck dug their fingers deeper into the ground and lifted Ember’s head. Trailing in his matted blond hair were the white-webbed roots of fungi that dominated the earthy world below the Kingdom. Ember’s head lolled back and forth as it emerged. His eyelids popped open and Speck gasped, sucking in the mist of rain soon to fall.

Ember’s blue-black eyes had faded to an eerie-opaque hue. Cloudy and void of him, like a discarded potion bottle.

A knot writhed in Speck’s chest and threatened to escape up their throat in a scream. They clamped their teeth shut; the impact vibrating through their skull. They laid Ember’s head gently back down and began work shifting the piles of dirt that covered his body.

Eyes of the castle twitched, cataloging Speck’s every movement through dark windows that popped in and out of existence. Speck pulled their hood down lower over their chin.

Freezing rain burst in earnest and began to pool and fill Ember’s unmarked grave. Speck felt icy water pour into their boots. With burning arms they hurried to free their brother. What little strength they had begun with was gone.

Speck slipped and fell onto Ember. He was so cold in such a frightful way that Speck recoiled from their twin. Landing in a puddle that soaked through their cloak and pants to the bone.

The swirling clouds rumbled as Starrise scrambled ever closer. Speck felt awash with despair. With numb fingers, they fumbled for their cloak pocket and pulled out a tiny vial. Speck tried to uncork it but their hands couldn’t control the tremors. They brought it to their teeth and yanked out the cork. Speck knew they would regret eating the squirming black grub in a few hours. Even so, they tipped the fidgeting creature onto their tongue and swallowed.

Speck struggled to their feet. The grub’s potent magic burst and their muscles twanged like a plucked string. Weariness receded and was replaced with a false, roaring strength. They clutched the front of Ember’s ruined blue jacket and yanked him from the ground. Clots of mud and screamer worms fell in the wake of his corpse. Despite the nausea twisting in their guts, Speck pulled their brother close.

They wrapped him into their sodden cloak, which curled around his torso and legs, holding him tight against Speck’s back. Safe and hidden from a world that had seen fit to extinguish his breath long before its due.

Together again, the twins, one alive and one dead, climbed from the empty grave and dashed into the shadows.