Dreamwalker

The sky was a brilliant yellow color. Leaves flew through the air, but no wind carried them. The river gushed forwards, but the water did not really move, it only appeared to. Though the landscape was dotted with evergreen trees, it was otherwise barren. As branches swayed, and bowed, the leaves rustled off, forming an ever growing shape in the air. A figure stepped out of that shape, as the needles returned to their point of origin, as if they had never fallen. 
She was an older woman, and she knew it. Dressed in plain linen clothing, her hair down around her shoulders, with only the faintest glimmers of golden blonde still remaining. She held out a hand, and a gust of wind surged around it, wrapping and twisting into a staff, which she used to hold herself up. She looked down, and her garb rippled, seeming to be soaking wet, then instantly shifting into a pair of grey britches and a purple coat. She had a long journey to make, and skirts and dresses would do her no good. 
She could feel their gaze upon her as she walked. Both of them. Through the forest, and up over a great expanse of hills. For hours she strode, ever aware of those who trailed behind her. She wondered if they knew of the others presence, and even moreso, who would they be more afraid of? At last, she arrived at the shores of an island, within which a great mountain stood, peaking high into the golden expanse above. 
Innumerable ways to cross flashed through her mind, but one way above all others struck her as clever. She began to walk forward onto the waves, their height and power a constant cycle, always in repetition. The water beneath her began to turn solid as she walked forward, focused on her destination. True, she could've simply appeared there, but that would ruin the fun. As she continued across, nearly all of the water that surrounded the island began to freeze, until anyone could've approached it from any direction. 
Indeed, her two pursuers did just that, coming onto it from opposite sides just as she placed a foot on the sand covered shore. The moment she did, the ice melted, though no sign of it ever having existed remained. There, at the shore, she waited. It would not be long before the two hunters would catch eachothers scents. She jammed her staff into the sand, and sat down on a newly apparated chair, like the one she had in her youth. Patiently, she waited, eyes closed, focused on the presence of the two creatures growing ever closer to one another. 
They burst forward at the same time. She was on the cliff face of the mountain now, watching. A great wolf of long black fur, shaggy and matted, pounced forward, it's golden eyes leaving a trail behind it. Ahead of it, a terrible mass of grotesque arms, mouths, and teeth lurched backwards, black spikes oozing viscous dark liquid. The Wolf, the Daishan, darted to its back side, tearing off an arm with gnawing teeth. The Shadow-Spawn grabbed hold of it with another set of three, it's bite digging into the wolf in turn. It let out a whimper, but shook itself free, a single golden clawed paw slashing at the monstrosity. 
Slowly, it sank into the ground, oozing and pooling into a single liquid mass of flesh, keratin, and bone. The Daishan began to howl, and turned its gaze up towards the woman on the cliff face. She gave a coy smile, as lightning battered down from the sky. Just as it did, a ripple of a sandstorm shot up around the wolf, electrocuted by the blast from above, solidifying the sediment into an intricate maze of thick, sharpened glass. The wolf was unharmed, but was unable to move far, lest it risk shredding itself on its new prison. Letting out a quick huff, the woman turned on the cliff, and looked into the cavern before her. 
Five wide holes in the ceiling let in the yellow light from above, it's sheen forming a pattern on the floor. In the distance, she could see what appeared to be three crystal columns, their surfaces covered in ever shifting letters and symbols, ancient nearly beyond belief. The woman pressed her hand to the pillar in the middle, and a small yellow shard appeared in her hand. She raised it, and began digging into the crystalline surface. Pulling it across, she could feel her presence in this realm begin to fade. Even so, she pressed onward, plunging deeper and deeper into the column. Finally, her eyes opened wide, her body lurching upwards in her bed to the sound of a barking dog. She looked down at her hand, and saw a stream of blood trailing from it, the mark of the shard on her flesh. Close, this time. But not quite enough. She would need help before she would try again.