The Whispering Caves
Prologue

The water lapped in and out at his feet. Its where his feet led him when he was driven out of his own mind, and he was driven to the waves. Nothing sat well with him tonight, everything felt wrong. Why couldn’t he settle himself?

What had brought him to the edge of the world out here, at the end of the night? The memories flashed like the beat of a drum that would not stop pounding inside of his head.

Down to the sand he knelt now. The weight of the mind was too much for him. It threatened to swallow him. His throat felt so tight, his hands aimlessly gripped the sand trying to find solid ground. He tried to expand his chest, that oxygen might flow mercifully to his mind, so that he could get control of himself of again. He felt like he was tilting out of control as instead his chest compressed and the oxygen was once again robbed from him. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

What had led him here was the carousel in his mind - he could not be himself any less than the deep water could stop being the dark, volatile constantly changing shape it took. He had been changed shape over time too. He could not lie to himself or remove the scars from the ruined corners of his mind, any more than he could wish the stars out of the sky. He could bear in some moments to exist as the evolved self he found himself as now. He felt claustrophobic in his own skin. He just wanted to be understood, but firstly perhaps he just wanted to understand himself.

The air grew thin, although he found himself not at all at high altitude and instead found himself at sea level. It was hard for him to admit he, more than seeking it from anyone outside him, he had to accept himself as the different person he was now, with all the marks, experiences, touches, and blurs of a whole patchwork of memories and life lived. He could not change the past of his story, but he could admit where he was now.

He felt utterly alone in the very core of his soul. Opening himself up to that emotion tore him apart. Fover reflected, that in this moment the human instinct might be to wrap his arms around himself. That would not change this moment.

Instead, he felt a whisper behind him, and felt a shiver split right down his spine. Every hair stood up on his arms. The moonlight poured over the hills now, and he scoured the land behind him as he whipped around.

The whisper barely breathed to him again and his eyes trained suddenly on the edge of the earth that stood as ragged rock before the sand swallowed it up and led to the beautiful wide open big pond.

Set behind the bushes against the stone was an entrance to a cave. A cave that looked just big enough that a person might pass through it. Where did it lead? It looked as though it was a part of a black hole, as though a part of the universe had fallen off and landed here, and perhaps become a universe unto itself. But all he could really make out was dark stone that led on into darker blackness.

He got up from his knees, and blinked the tears that were trying to build up in his eyes. Feeling pain wasn’t weakness, but it made him feel weak. He felt tired from feeling chronically tired. But something about that Whisper stirred him in that direction.

The stars were out tonight, but the dark that resided within the cave was much deeper. The waves of the dark mysterious water seemed to pound harder behind him, as if threatening to drown him themselves should he resist any mystical urge to follow in that direction.

But there was no fight. There was only an urge to evolve even further past where he now found himself, he desired to see the world in new ways. He walked towards the depth of dark. The sand gave way under his feet and he felt like he was hindered in his urgency to get to the opening of the cave.

His feet finally found the edge where the sand met the scrubby grass that led up to the entrance. He looked around, no one else was out here, and it was just him. Just him and this choice to make before him.

Fover bolted upright, sweaty from his dream. Tomorrow, he left for Montana.

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