In the Dark

Zephyr hung in darkness. Her soul hurt as though tormented by a thousand million needles; there was an emptiness within her, a hollow longing for something she couldn't quite remember. She was lost in a void so dark and cold that it transcended anything she had ever imagined.
Memories trickled slowly through her mind as she drifted...Angry faces, pain and violence, a wounding. She gasped at the memory of the stabbing and automatically her hand moved to her chest where the knife had entered. Her robe was whole, un-torn and she felt no pain from where the weapon had cut. Another memory filtered through; of a bright blue light and beautiful green eyes. She knew the eyes, they were so familiar, but the face and name escaped her. Zephyr knew that if she could just remember who the eyes belonged to, she would be whole again. She struggled to remember through the fog of her disjointed thoughts. She recalled strong arms holding her, lifting her and carrying her into comforting, rosy light...then nothing until she awoke in the cold, dark void.
I am dead
The thought slid into her mind like treacle, slowly and gently, and she realised that she was not scared by it. A feeling of calm stole over her, and peace filled her body, soothing the needling pain in her soul. Slowly she began to give in to it, drifting further into the darkness, comforted by the peace and serenity she felt. The eyes began to fade from her mind and she let them go, closing her own eyes as she slipped deeper.
Zephyr The voice called to her as though from a great distance, dragging her back to awareness in an instant. Her eyes snapped open in shock. Suddenly she knew who had called her, who the eyes belonged to, and tears welled quickly and painfully. The hollow loneliness ate at her once more and she wept in sudden anguish.
"Eirlys!" She cried into the icy blackness.
"Eirlys." The darkness whiplashed around her at the intrusion of sound into its silent maw. It roiled and boiled in fury and Zephyr was thrown about wildly in the turmoil. She could sense the anger in it, anger at being denied a peaceful soul, and she fought all the harder to be released from its freezing hold.
"Eirlys, help me!" She screamed as the darkness whirled and spun around her. She closed her eyes against the violence of the dark fury, and instantly the motion stopped. The air felt different; cold but not freezing, strangely more real than the dark void. Zephyr risked opening her eyes again, and found that she was standing on a grey hillside, a black road winding down in front of her to a sparse, colourless plain that stretched further than the eye could see. Above her a starless black sky glowered at her with malevolent intent. The earth was dry and dusty and sported infrequent tufts of greyish, brittle grasses that looked weak and ill in the twilit landscape. On the very limit of her vision a light twinkled, just above the horizon, like a star low in the sky. Instinctively Zephyr knew it was no star, but some kind of beacon or tower, set there to attract travellers in this dismal world. She cast her eyes about for a few minutes more, searching for a clue or sign other than the light on the horizon. Then, finding nothing more of interest, she set out towards it, following the steep road down the side of the hill, hoping against hope that somewhere close by in the dark, menacing netherworld she would find Eirlys, and be whole again.