The room had beome softly quiet, and the traveler paused, to note the elders staring at him, fixedly, unmoving - not even blinking. The room was stopped, still. He looked from one face to the other, and sensed a slow paleness wash over the faces, and then to their whole presences. It tugged at the corners of the room.
A dank chill had come on with a silent crack, and deepened, as though a killing frost. Their eyes had become black windows, and the room was now utterly without color. There was a slow sense of falling away of all that he could see, into uttermost black. He gripped the arms of his chair tightly, and could feel a tingle in his hands. To ask, to speak, was tiresome, and futile; speak to nobody, as it fell away, and a wind came up, first a draft, but swirling and greater, and slapping with icy rain out of the now uttermost blackness. He could see nothing, not even the hands on the arm of his chair. He thought of holding a hand before his face, but lurched with nausea at the thought, for his hands were holding all that was.
Tenebrous clouds mulled vaguely overhead, a black-that-moved over a black that loomed, still, threatening. His eyes slowly drew the vaguest bits of meaning from the world, as the icy slap of sleet caromed across his chill body and numbing lips. The chair swayed or rocked a bit, a most unpleasant instability. Sound came in, a far, far booming over the whistle and slap of the ice-laden wind. He looked over the arm of the chair, and down, for the far-off booming seemed there. A fine, scattered greyish line traced irregularly on the blackness, and the line moved almost imperceptibly. A surf line, far, far below, onto rocks, it stretched now seen on both sides of Below into the unutterable distance. A cliff of solid black, of tremendous height, ran along ahead, and to the horizon; and far below to the ocean. It could be a mile. Gulls crawled over the sea far below, barely moving, several thousand feet below.
All that was, were the two wooden arms of the chair, and that he was seated. With a sickening realization, he felt his toes dangling over the open ocean. The brief and feeble light began to wane, until there was nothing but the sleet and hissing wind out of the blackness.
A dank chill had come on with a silent crack, and deepened, as though a killing frost. Their eyes had become black windows, and the room was now utterly without color. There was a slow sense of falling away of all that he could see, into uttermost black. He gripped the arms of his chair tightly, and could feel a tingle in his hands. To ask, to speak, was tiresome, and futile; speak to nobody, as it fell away, and a wind came up, first a draft, but swirling and greater, and slapping with icy rain out of the now uttermost blackness. He could see nothing, not even the hands on the arm of his chair. He thought of holding a hand before his face, but lurched with nausea at the thought, for his hands were holding all that was.
Tenebrous clouds mulled vaguely overhead, a black-that-moved over a black that loomed, still, threatening. His eyes slowly drew the vaguest bits of meaning from the world, as the icy slap of sleet caromed across his chill body and numbing lips. The chair swayed or rocked a bit, a most unpleasant instability. Sound came in, a far, far booming over the whistle and slap of the ice-laden wind. He looked over the arm of the chair, and down, for the far-off booming seemed there. A fine, scattered greyish line traced irregularly on the blackness, and the line moved almost imperceptibly. A surf line, far, far below, onto rocks, it stretched now seen on both sides of Below into the unutterable distance. A cliff of solid black, of tremendous height, ran along ahead, and to the horizon; and far below to the ocean. It could be a mile. Gulls crawled over the sea far below, barely moving, several thousand feet below.
All that was, were the two wooden arms of the chair, and that he was seated. With a sickening realization, he felt his toes dangling over the open ocean. The brief and feeble light began to wane, until there was nothing but the sleet and hissing wind out of the blackness.
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