Post by EmperorMyric on Dec 16, 2017 18:49:23 GMT
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
-Robert Frost, Stopping By The Woods on a Snowy Evening
--oOo--
One convenient thing remained: my pursuers moved by night. At the time, I wondered if this was simply for the sake of keeping me alive, or if it was truly a restriction on their part. That being said, if it was only a restriction, it was one that they kept quite strictly to. They moved only by night. I had the daylight hours to recover and prepare for what came with sundown. Then I would run and fight, and run. There was much running then.
However they were tracking me wasn’t my timeline. It was purely impossible, but I was being tracked regardless. There were places I could go, yes. I had many, many places to run. But as long as I was running, my effectiveness in pursuing the facts and figures of my quarry’s life would be dramatically reduced. This was probably his goal, in a sense, though I was not convinced. But Nagaetros’ forces respected the power of daylight quite consistency, and with regularity that gave me some comfort.
I began avoiding large cities after that point; uninvolved parties tended to fall prey to the enemy’s machinations, and while I was more than willing to sacrifice lives for the sake of the hunt, I was more willing to go out of my way to avoid unwarranted bloodshed. As much as I’d love for you to think I was doing this out of some sense of charity or compassion, I’d have to deny it. These incidents that came with their attempts at my wellbeing were well publicized things, and were upsetting my comfortable anonymity. It wasn’t that they made me more trackable in terms of timeline; even during the rushed chases and frantic escapes, I retained my balance on the razor’s edge and properly masked my steps in a way that left me invisible. But the facts that there were points, repeating points, where they knew I had been and had nearly gotten me, and in a spiritual sense it was deeply unsettling. The smaller the incidents were, the less they could hold onto me with.
The fact that I’d been willing to let all those people die to facilitate my escape struck me as a strange thing only in hindsight, yet even now in these few hours before the next sundown, I can say with utter certainty that I would have done it. I have to be willing to do anything if I am to succeed in curbing Shaw, and that involves evil, potentially. I don’t know how much worse that makes me than my people were; they too lived unseen, and they too would kill to keep it that way. Gods know they’d kill. Especially if Dorin unleashes the Great Weapons. Gods know they’d kill. But unlike them, I didn’t hide away from the rest of the galaxy. I could never return to my own people’s planets as long as I was being tracked; if Shaw destroyed an Ascendancy world, they’d do more than I think even he could imagine. I had learned that Shaw lives for chaos, but he does not understand what my people would have been willing to do. The greatest of fires can be extinguished in a vacuum, and there is very little chaos among ashes.
I didn’t sleep much then. Even given a solid twelve hour day, there are two hours of twilight at the tails of that, and it cuts your time down to ten. Ten hours to sleep, eat, and try and thwart a madman. Then fourteen of running and fighting. The worst part was the relentlessness of the clock, the clock I in theory was master and commander of. I had considered a simple solution at first, but did not pursue it: I could hide in the past, before I raped Naga’s mind and left him empty. I could probably get a few hours rest there, if I was careful. I could hide at Exceion, and even the Followers of Shaw would hesitate to follow me there if they knew more than what was known now about the Vexation. But I passed on the past, because at this point the servants of my enemy had not located me; it had been only the minions of Nagaetros. Beyond that, I did not want to wish contamination with the Vexation myself, as I do not aim to harm without cause.
It was mid afternoon now, and the tall prairie grass was moving like water in the wind. I was in the back of a grain transporter, as I had convinced its operator to take me towards the next town over. It was not my intent to be there when night fell, if I could help it. Naga’s minions seemed to favour razing everything nearby once the sun went down, so I was growing to prefer leaving them with less things to raze. Forests had been a good haven at one point, for with the hologram projector I had excellent camouflage, a fact that dawned on the jester far too late for his life. I don’t understand how he could have survived having his spine and nervous system severed, but I took extra care to leave him dead the second time; instead of cutting him, I crushed his torso flat with the plates like he was in a book press. He didn’t have time to scream.
The grass flew by, and the grain vibrated beneath me as it tends to when roaring down a country road. It was a soothing pattern, and I used the opportunity to close my eyes and think. I thought about the necklace Echo had pulled out in the casino ship, or that peculiar voice that came with it. The voice bothered me; I already had Naga’s innane I-shall-destroy-all-things mentality to put up with, though his proclivity to violence had proven quite impressive when the occasion called for it. The forests had been a good hiding place until they sent the hounds after me; two massive things that skulked in the shadows just like the shadowmen. I think I might have killed one of them; I used the plates to latch onto its throat and threw the beast off a cliff of some considerable height. Then again, the jester seemed to survive the impossible. Perhaps these things were harder to kill than I realized. But after they began using the hounds, forests became unpalatable
We had stopped outside of a gypsy encampment for a meal, much to my displeasure. There were roughly a hundred people mingling about the camp, and while it was still a good hour or two before dark, I didn’t look forward to sundown. As soon as it was out of sight Naga's servants would arrive almost immediately after and begin their hunt once more. I wondered if I would be seeing the jester or the hounds once more, and Naga’s hopes quickly reassured me I would. Out of the crowd who came to greet us, a woman walked up and watched with a kind smile as iIclimbed out of the grain transporter, it was as if she knew me. "Oh, great." The unfamiliar voice had returned in my head.
The voice was increasingly annoying; it held no real sway in my mind, but as I still hadn't quite come to terms with who it was I found it immensely irritating. The air was full of pollen here, and the late afternoon light punched through the trees and illuminated it; golden beams broke through the leaves and danced in the day's bright light. It was an exemplary summer day, and the warm breeze that kept the grain moving like waves on a stormy sea sent a thin cloud of dust up from the grain conveyer, scattering into that golden light as if it were made of the stuff. I was covered in that pale golden dust myself, but I made no motion to attempt to brush it off me; it was ever present, and it would have been a pointless gesture.
I bit my lip softly as I looked up at the sun's position in regards to the horizon; I had perhaps an hour left of full daylight before dusk would begin. An hour, an hour and a half...if I began walking now, I would be a good five or ten miles away from the encampment before they'd start coming after me. I could always jump, of course; I could cover the distance without too much effort. But at this point, I didn't know it was Naga's little sliver of consciousness that was giving my position away; the best option I could come up was that they were tracking my jumps somehow, and if I jumped from here they might be waiting for me when I came out. Or worse, they might track the jump back to here. Either way, I didn't want them to find me here. I didn't think they'd object much to destroying the gypsy's wagons.
I noticed early the woman watching me, but at the time I didn't pay all too much attention to me. The rig's driver was hugging many, many people at that point, and I quietly slipped away from the truck. I was hungry, and the small of the campfires and the ovens wafted through the air quite cruelly. I would have liked to have eaten some, but I wouldn't have the time to if I wished to put enough distance between the camp and I. At the same time, I didn't appreciate the idea of being caught out on the road when darkness began to fall, but it was either that or the gypsy's camp, and I didn't feel inclined to cause them any pain on my account.
She walked up to me, dressed oddly compared to the other gypsies in the camp and fairly tall. The woman wore a black dress that went down to her knees, black high heels, and a bright red apron around her waist. Her hair was in a bob and her eyes shown a brilliant emerald green that were quite visible against her white skin. She was beautiful, but completely out of place, and she looked at me with a kind, friendly gaze on her face. "Hi, dear!" she said raising her hand in a friendly greeting.
I was somewhat offput by her greeting, but I could smell an earnest honesty on her breath. There was something else there, too; I had become accustomed to a drake's smell over the past weeks as they tended to begin the nights in disguise. I think that's because they'd forgot they'd tried the night before, and the night before that, on account of my engineered pheremones. But even with that strangely salty tone, it wasn't quite a drake's scent. Perhaps one was farther away in the camp? The air was full of spices and pollen and other fragrances, I suppose. That might be it. Yet somehow, despite the oddly familiar scent, I didn't feel all too alarmed by it, despite the fact that that smell had come with death and killing for night after night. In hindsight, it might have been her charming abilities, but at that time, it was simply an odd feeling in the back of my head.
"Afternoon." I said with a decent approximation of pleasantness. I was hungry, and tired too; I'd slept a few hours in the back of the conveyor, but not nearly enough for my liking. I knelt and checked my bag, removing a canteen and taking a sip. "Pleasant day, isn't it?" I added as I wiped the water off my lips. It didn't taste all too well, on account of the herbs I'd placed into it, but it would help me keep my strength up through the night. I returned the canteen into the pack and slipped it onto my back.
She looked down at me, kneeling over slightly to look me in the eyes, her green eyes looked directly into mine as though she were really looking past them. "It's always pleasant with family visiting." She said with a gentle smile. "Although tonight's going to be very busy. Especially for you, child." her white teeth shined brightly in the daylight. Her tone was very serious but a sense of friendliness was still there.
I didn’t pause immediately, but the words lodged in my head clicked as I slipped the pack onto my back and I rose to my feet. I glanced over at the driver, who was still enthusiastically exchanging hugs with other members of the camp. There wasn’t much physical similarity between him and the green-eyed woman, but I appreciated the sentiment, even though I could not say I knew the experience.
But it was the last bit that caught my attention slightly. Tonight’s going to be very busy. Especially for you, child… I smiled slightly as a strong gust of warm air hit me; it was full of dandelion seeds, and they blew through the air in a whimsical manner that, even with the challenges that lay down that road keenly in my mind, brought a small degree of joy. I appreciated the emotion immensely given the strain of these past many nights.
“Well I hope you enjoy having him around. Quite frankly,” I added softly, “I don’t expect he’ll remember me. How far is it to the next town, by the way?” I asked as I pointed down the road. My gauntlet was inactive at that point, so the holographic image was flawless and didn’t give away the device.
She looked at me with her smile strongly defining her face. "My brother never forgets, unfortunately. He's lived such a painfull life, we've all lost so much." Her smile dimmed slightly. "Last time I saw him we fought like animals. We've never been able to get along. Maybe his new perspective will help him find peace." She said hopefully as she looked out towards the road. "There isn’t another soul for over a hundred miles, child. A long and dangerous journey awaits you."
The way she spoke was strange, and I knew I was hesitating on commencing that long walk into darkness. “He seemed amicable enough,“ I observed quietly, lest my voice carry. “Did something…happen to him?” I inquired curiously, as I glanced back over at the driver. He was still hugging people. He really seemed to like hugging people.
There were monsters waiting for me down that road, and I stilled the gauntlet before it began responding to the thoughts of the coming night. It responds instinctively and requires direction, and for a moment, I could feel it stirring. But it stayed where it belonged, and I shrugged. “Better a long and dangerous journey than one that ends shortly after its beginning.” In the camp, I could hear instruments beginning to play softly, and I wondered what it’d be like to spend the night there. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be all too kind for them.
“Miles to go before I sleep,” I added softly, quoting from a book I’d once perused.
She looked past the driver . "It was before my time, I’ve only heard stories. But pain was not unfamiliar to him. He lost everything he ever loved and just when you'd think he'd have nothing more to lose, well...he had nothing else to lose...." She looked back at me, her smile still present but her eyes were filled with sorrow. "We've all lost something. Something irreplaceable. Something that tore us apart. But he had the worst of it." She wiped a tear from her eye. "I’m amazed he's still alive. I wish my son had been that strong."
We all tend to be as strong as the circumstances dictate, I think. We are gentle till wrath, then fury; kindness until cruelty, then vengeance. I admit a deep sympathy existed from me for this woman, but the road and the night beckoned cruelly. I looked down it for a long ways, until it vanished from view around a thicket of trees into a wide valley below. I wanted to ask about her son, for I have no children of my own: this is not a world for children. I must make it safe for them before I may have sons and daughters, and there too I have miles to go before I sleep.
“Enjoy him then.” I murmured softly, as I took my first step down that road. “I have an engagement to keep further on down the road,” I added apologetically, as the gravel began to crunch underfoot. “ and I best not keep them waiting.” It’s going to be a long night, I felt like adding, but that would be inviting her to ask what I meant of it, and quite frankly I didn’t think the woman would believe me if I told her. Running from the forces of evil, I’d say. Stole a part of a god’s mind, I’d say. Voices in my head, I might add. Yes, she’d have thought me crazy.
Before i could begin my trek the woman gently placed her hand on my shoulder. "Be careful dear, my brother's friends will be here soon and I worry what they might do. It's going to be a very dangerous night with them around." She had a look of sincere concern for me as she spoke.
Abruptly I froze. It was quiet, too quiet...but not outside. Outside, it was fiddle music and bonfires and leaves rustling and the sounds of a warm summer evening. Inside, it was quiet as a grave. Nagaetros hadn't said a damn thing about lopping her arms off or disembowling her, as he tended to whenever I was speaking with anyone. He'd gone full silent.
I looked into her eyes with a peculiarly calm sense of unease. Naga ran his mouth all the time; quite frankly, I wondered if I did him a kindness by giving him some peace and quiet. Yet his sudden silence was definitely uncanny.
"I'll be as careful as I can be." I responded hesitantly, seeing a great deal of truth in her words. Naga was never quiet. Until now. I could faintly sense that salty feeling that came with a drake, but it remained strange and distant, but as I connected that strange silence with the faint scent, I could feel the smallest flames of alarm in the back of my head. I didn't have time to reflect on them though, and so I thanked her again and began down that road.
--oOo—
I probably made close to ten miles before the sun began to touch the horizon. It was a breathtaking golden scene, and one immensely more peaceful than that which would follow. The grain was blowing in the wind, and the dust that was kicked up by my feet on the country road blew ahead of me and it too was gold in the sun’s fading light. The crickets were chirping loudly, and aside from the wind and the sound of my shoes hitting the ground, they were the only sound to be heard.
I wasn’t thinking of anything in particular as I moved, as my thoughts moved wildly with me. I was thinking about Shaw, and about the sound of the gypsies violins and the woman’s words. There was a trace of prophecy to them, really, though I didn’t imagine she understood quite how so. I was thinking about upcoming events, pieces of a great puzzle that few-I don’t truly count myself as one-will ever fully understand. I was thinking about death and rebirth and those strange creatures who, like the phoenix, manage to die twice, live twice…
I broke off the road at that point, and moved into the grass. It was a waist high field, and one I knew would be unpleasant for me once the hounds and the shadowmen began to arrive. There was no cover to speak of, and no visbility either; but I could see the future if only so much, and they could not at all. In the dark, the blind can see, and I was perhaps the most blind of them. I outstretched my hands into the tips of the grass as the winds blew the sun down past the horizon, and my gauntlet began to spin, lazily lopping into the grass as I moved…
--oOo—
I probably made it four miles before the sun again touched the horizon. It was a breathtaking thing of red.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
-Robert Frost, Stopping By The Woods on a Snowy Evening
--oOo--
One convenient thing remained: my pursuers moved by night. At the time, I wondered if this was simply for the sake of keeping me alive, or if it was truly a restriction on their part. That being said, if it was only a restriction, it was one that they kept quite strictly to. They moved only by night. I had the daylight hours to recover and prepare for what came with sundown. Then I would run and fight, and run. There was much running then.
However they were tracking me wasn’t my timeline. It was purely impossible, but I was being tracked regardless. There were places I could go, yes. I had many, many places to run. But as long as I was running, my effectiveness in pursuing the facts and figures of my quarry’s life would be dramatically reduced. This was probably his goal, in a sense, though I was not convinced. But Nagaetros’ forces respected the power of daylight quite consistency, and with regularity that gave me some comfort.
I began avoiding large cities after that point; uninvolved parties tended to fall prey to the enemy’s machinations, and while I was more than willing to sacrifice lives for the sake of the hunt, I was more willing to go out of my way to avoid unwarranted bloodshed. As much as I’d love for you to think I was doing this out of some sense of charity or compassion, I’d have to deny it. These incidents that came with their attempts at my wellbeing were well publicized things, and were upsetting my comfortable anonymity. It wasn’t that they made me more trackable in terms of timeline; even during the rushed chases and frantic escapes, I retained my balance on the razor’s edge and properly masked my steps in a way that left me invisible. But the facts that there were points, repeating points, where they knew I had been and had nearly gotten me, and in a spiritual sense it was deeply unsettling. The smaller the incidents were, the less they could hold onto me with.
The fact that I’d been willing to let all those people die to facilitate my escape struck me as a strange thing only in hindsight, yet even now in these few hours before the next sundown, I can say with utter certainty that I would have done it. I have to be willing to do anything if I am to succeed in curbing Shaw, and that involves evil, potentially. I don’t know how much worse that makes me than my people were; they too lived unseen, and they too would kill to keep it that way. Gods know they’d kill. Especially if Dorin unleashes the Great Weapons. Gods know they’d kill. But unlike them, I didn’t hide away from the rest of the galaxy. I could never return to my own people’s planets as long as I was being tracked; if Shaw destroyed an Ascendancy world, they’d do more than I think even he could imagine. I had learned that Shaw lives for chaos, but he does not understand what my people would have been willing to do. The greatest of fires can be extinguished in a vacuum, and there is very little chaos among ashes.
I didn’t sleep much then. Even given a solid twelve hour day, there are two hours of twilight at the tails of that, and it cuts your time down to ten. Ten hours to sleep, eat, and try and thwart a madman. Then fourteen of running and fighting. The worst part was the relentlessness of the clock, the clock I in theory was master and commander of. I had considered a simple solution at first, but did not pursue it: I could hide in the past, before I raped Naga’s mind and left him empty. I could probably get a few hours rest there, if I was careful. I could hide at Exceion, and even the Followers of Shaw would hesitate to follow me there if they knew more than what was known now about the Vexation. But I passed on the past, because at this point the servants of my enemy had not located me; it had been only the minions of Nagaetros. Beyond that, I did not want to wish contamination with the Vexation myself, as I do not aim to harm without cause.
It was mid afternoon now, and the tall prairie grass was moving like water in the wind. I was in the back of a grain transporter, as I had convinced its operator to take me towards the next town over. It was not my intent to be there when night fell, if I could help it. Naga’s minions seemed to favour razing everything nearby once the sun went down, so I was growing to prefer leaving them with less things to raze. Forests had been a good haven at one point, for with the hologram projector I had excellent camouflage, a fact that dawned on the jester far too late for his life. I don’t understand how he could have survived having his spine and nervous system severed, but I took extra care to leave him dead the second time; instead of cutting him, I crushed his torso flat with the plates like he was in a book press. He didn’t have time to scream.
The grass flew by, and the grain vibrated beneath me as it tends to when roaring down a country road. It was a soothing pattern, and I used the opportunity to close my eyes and think. I thought about the necklace Echo had pulled out in the casino ship, or that peculiar voice that came with it. The voice bothered me; I already had Naga’s innane I-shall-destroy-all-things mentality to put up with, though his proclivity to violence had proven quite impressive when the occasion called for it. The forests had been a good hiding place until they sent the hounds after me; two massive things that skulked in the shadows just like the shadowmen. I think I might have killed one of them; I used the plates to latch onto its throat and threw the beast off a cliff of some considerable height. Then again, the jester seemed to survive the impossible. Perhaps these things were harder to kill than I realized. But after they began using the hounds, forests became unpalatable
We had stopped outside of a gypsy encampment for a meal, much to my displeasure. There were roughly a hundred people mingling about the camp, and while it was still a good hour or two before dark, I didn’t look forward to sundown. As soon as it was out of sight Naga's servants would arrive almost immediately after and begin their hunt once more. I wondered if I would be seeing the jester or the hounds once more, and Naga’s hopes quickly reassured me I would. Out of the crowd who came to greet us, a woman walked up and watched with a kind smile as iIclimbed out of the grain transporter, it was as if she knew me. "Oh, great." The unfamiliar voice had returned in my head.
The voice was increasingly annoying; it held no real sway in my mind, but as I still hadn't quite come to terms with who it was I found it immensely irritating. The air was full of pollen here, and the late afternoon light punched through the trees and illuminated it; golden beams broke through the leaves and danced in the day's bright light. It was an exemplary summer day, and the warm breeze that kept the grain moving like waves on a stormy sea sent a thin cloud of dust up from the grain conveyer, scattering into that golden light as if it were made of the stuff. I was covered in that pale golden dust myself, but I made no motion to attempt to brush it off me; it was ever present, and it would have been a pointless gesture.
I bit my lip softly as I looked up at the sun's position in regards to the horizon; I had perhaps an hour left of full daylight before dusk would begin. An hour, an hour and a half...if I began walking now, I would be a good five or ten miles away from the encampment before they'd start coming after me. I could always jump, of course; I could cover the distance without too much effort. But at this point, I didn't know it was Naga's little sliver of consciousness that was giving my position away; the best option I could come up was that they were tracking my jumps somehow, and if I jumped from here they might be waiting for me when I came out. Or worse, they might track the jump back to here. Either way, I didn't want them to find me here. I didn't think they'd object much to destroying the gypsy's wagons.
I noticed early the woman watching me, but at the time I didn't pay all too much attention to me. The rig's driver was hugging many, many people at that point, and I quietly slipped away from the truck. I was hungry, and the small of the campfires and the ovens wafted through the air quite cruelly. I would have liked to have eaten some, but I wouldn't have the time to if I wished to put enough distance between the camp and I. At the same time, I didn't appreciate the idea of being caught out on the road when darkness began to fall, but it was either that or the gypsy's camp, and I didn't feel inclined to cause them any pain on my account.
She walked up to me, dressed oddly compared to the other gypsies in the camp and fairly tall. The woman wore a black dress that went down to her knees, black high heels, and a bright red apron around her waist. Her hair was in a bob and her eyes shown a brilliant emerald green that were quite visible against her white skin. She was beautiful, but completely out of place, and she looked at me with a kind, friendly gaze on her face. "Hi, dear!" she said raising her hand in a friendly greeting.
I was somewhat offput by her greeting, but I could smell an earnest honesty on her breath. There was something else there, too; I had become accustomed to a drake's smell over the past weeks as they tended to begin the nights in disguise. I think that's because they'd forgot they'd tried the night before, and the night before that, on account of my engineered pheremones. But even with that strangely salty tone, it wasn't quite a drake's scent. Perhaps one was farther away in the camp? The air was full of spices and pollen and other fragrances, I suppose. That might be it. Yet somehow, despite the oddly familiar scent, I didn't feel all too alarmed by it, despite the fact that that smell had come with death and killing for night after night. In hindsight, it might have been her charming abilities, but at that time, it was simply an odd feeling in the back of my head.
"Afternoon." I said with a decent approximation of pleasantness. I was hungry, and tired too; I'd slept a few hours in the back of the conveyor, but not nearly enough for my liking. I knelt and checked my bag, removing a canteen and taking a sip. "Pleasant day, isn't it?" I added as I wiped the water off my lips. It didn't taste all too well, on account of the herbs I'd placed into it, but it would help me keep my strength up through the night. I returned the canteen into the pack and slipped it onto my back.
She looked down at me, kneeling over slightly to look me in the eyes, her green eyes looked directly into mine as though she were really looking past them. "It's always pleasant with family visiting." She said with a gentle smile. "Although tonight's going to be very busy. Especially for you, child." her white teeth shined brightly in the daylight. Her tone was very serious but a sense of friendliness was still there.
I didn’t pause immediately, but the words lodged in my head clicked as I slipped the pack onto my back and I rose to my feet. I glanced over at the driver, who was still enthusiastically exchanging hugs with other members of the camp. There wasn’t much physical similarity between him and the green-eyed woman, but I appreciated the sentiment, even though I could not say I knew the experience.
But it was the last bit that caught my attention slightly. Tonight’s going to be very busy. Especially for you, child… I smiled slightly as a strong gust of warm air hit me; it was full of dandelion seeds, and they blew through the air in a whimsical manner that, even with the challenges that lay down that road keenly in my mind, brought a small degree of joy. I appreciated the emotion immensely given the strain of these past many nights.
“Well I hope you enjoy having him around. Quite frankly,” I added softly, “I don’t expect he’ll remember me. How far is it to the next town, by the way?” I asked as I pointed down the road. My gauntlet was inactive at that point, so the holographic image was flawless and didn’t give away the device.
She looked at me with her smile strongly defining her face. "My brother never forgets, unfortunately. He's lived such a painfull life, we've all lost so much." Her smile dimmed slightly. "Last time I saw him we fought like animals. We've never been able to get along. Maybe his new perspective will help him find peace." She said hopefully as she looked out towards the road. "There isn’t another soul for over a hundred miles, child. A long and dangerous journey awaits you."
The way she spoke was strange, and I knew I was hesitating on commencing that long walk into darkness. “He seemed amicable enough,“ I observed quietly, lest my voice carry. “Did something…happen to him?” I inquired curiously, as I glanced back over at the driver. He was still hugging people. He really seemed to like hugging people.
There were monsters waiting for me down that road, and I stilled the gauntlet before it began responding to the thoughts of the coming night. It responds instinctively and requires direction, and for a moment, I could feel it stirring. But it stayed where it belonged, and I shrugged. “Better a long and dangerous journey than one that ends shortly after its beginning.” In the camp, I could hear instruments beginning to play softly, and I wondered what it’d be like to spend the night there. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be all too kind for them.
“Miles to go before I sleep,” I added softly, quoting from a book I’d once perused.
She looked past the driver . "It was before my time, I’ve only heard stories. But pain was not unfamiliar to him. He lost everything he ever loved and just when you'd think he'd have nothing more to lose, well...he had nothing else to lose...." She looked back at me, her smile still present but her eyes were filled with sorrow. "We've all lost something. Something irreplaceable. Something that tore us apart. But he had the worst of it." She wiped a tear from her eye. "I’m amazed he's still alive. I wish my son had been that strong."
We all tend to be as strong as the circumstances dictate, I think. We are gentle till wrath, then fury; kindness until cruelty, then vengeance. I admit a deep sympathy existed from me for this woman, but the road and the night beckoned cruelly. I looked down it for a long ways, until it vanished from view around a thicket of trees into a wide valley below. I wanted to ask about her son, for I have no children of my own: this is not a world for children. I must make it safe for them before I may have sons and daughters, and there too I have miles to go before I sleep.
“Enjoy him then.” I murmured softly, as I took my first step down that road. “I have an engagement to keep further on down the road,” I added apologetically, as the gravel began to crunch underfoot. “ and I best not keep them waiting.” It’s going to be a long night, I felt like adding, but that would be inviting her to ask what I meant of it, and quite frankly I didn’t think the woman would believe me if I told her. Running from the forces of evil, I’d say. Stole a part of a god’s mind, I’d say. Voices in my head, I might add. Yes, she’d have thought me crazy.
Before i could begin my trek the woman gently placed her hand on my shoulder. "Be careful dear, my brother's friends will be here soon and I worry what they might do. It's going to be a very dangerous night with them around." She had a look of sincere concern for me as she spoke.
Abruptly I froze. It was quiet, too quiet...but not outside. Outside, it was fiddle music and bonfires and leaves rustling and the sounds of a warm summer evening. Inside, it was quiet as a grave. Nagaetros hadn't said a damn thing about lopping her arms off or disembowling her, as he tended to whenever I was speaking with anyone. He'd gone full silent.
I looked into her eyes with a peculiarly calm sense of unease. Naga ran his mouth all the time; quite frankly, I wondered if I did him a kindness by giving him some peace and quiet. Yet his sudden silence was definitely uncanny.
"I'll be as careful as I can be." I responded hesitantly, seeing a great deal of truth in her words. Naga was never quiet. Until now. I could faintly sense that salty feeling that came with a drake, but it remained strange and distant, but as I connected that strange silence with the faint scent, I could feel the smallest flames of alarm in the back of my head. I didn't have time to reflect on them though, and so I thanked her again and began down that road.
--oOo—
I probably made close to ten miles before the sun began to touch the horizon. It was a breathtaking golden scene, and one immensely more peaceful than that which would follow. The grain was blowing in the wind, and the dust that was kicked up by my feet on the country road blew ahead of me and it too was gold in the sun’s fading light. The crickets were chirping loudly, and aside from the wind and the sound of my shoes hitting the ground, they were the only sound to be heard.
I wasn’t thinking of anything in particular as I moved, as my thoughts moved wildly with me. I was thinking about Shaw, and about the sound of the gypsies violins and the woman’s words. There was a trace of prophecy to them, really, though I didn’t imagine she understood quite how so. I was thinking about upcoming events, pieces of a great puzzle that few-I don’t truly count myself as one-will ever fully understand. I was thinking about death and rebirth and those strange creatures who, like the phoenix, manage to die twice, live twice…
I broke off the road at that point, and moved into the grass. It was a waist high field, and one I knew would be unpleasant for me once the hounds and the shadowmen began to arrive. There was no cover to speak of, and no visbility either; but I could see the future if only so much, and they could not at all. In the dark, the blind can see, and I was perhaps the most blind of them. I outstretched my hands into the tips of the grass as the winds blew the sun down past the horizon, and my gauntlet began to spin, lazily lopping into the grass as I moved…
--oOo—
I probably made it four miles before the sun again touched the horizon. It was a breathtaking thing of red.