Note: "VKP" = "Valendia Knights of the Peace" A UN-like peacekeeping force controlled by the Valendian Senate.
".... in the span of one week, a life can be completely changed."
- Ashley
The small hut showed obvious signs of recent neglect; thick coats of dust layered any exposed surfaces and the grimy leaded windows let in little of the moonlight. Underneath the dirt and litter, however, the house was dry and sturdy as promised, and under the dusty down comforter, the bed proved clean and soft as Ashley gently lowered his burden onto it. Carefully arranging the quilts and pillows around his nearly comatose companion, he stared in wonder at the man's shallow breathing as he gently removed the crude bandages. It was no simple wound that revealed itself in the half-light of his little lantern. A swatch of skin was missing, spanning across both shoulders and from neck to lower back. The gaping sore revealed muscles, bones, and fibers, ones that were usually properly shielded from view on all but the cadavers that surgeons studied. Ashley hissed in sympathy as he inspected the still-bleeding area and the additional deep puncture where Guildenstern's rapier had run completely through his companion's abdomen.
Any other man would've died in minutes... Or if not then, when the roof collapsed on him, or surviving that, when he was half-dragged, half-carried for miles out of a burning, crumbling city. Living through those things, I suppose it was nothing for him to be carried though the nearly ten miles of forest we crossed today without rest or food, stopping only long enough to bind him up to keep him from bleeding to death...
Muttering a curse at the setting moon, the fighter paused in his ministrations to light a fire with the solitary lantern he had thought to obtain in the village before returning to his charge. Sydney remained unmoving, indeed nearly unaware of the world that existed beyond his pain-wracked body. His skin was pale and cool. His deathlike appearance was belied only by the tremors that shook his frail body and the slow spread of dark wet stain on his flesh. Ashley frowned, worried. In a fit of lucidity earlier in the day, the mage had boasted that his recovery was assured, but the day's travel had been hard, and within hours his companion had lost the energy to even whimper his distress, much less voice his opinion on his condition. Having cleaned and re-wrapped the blonde's chest, and assured Sydney would live for the moment, Ashley allowed himself to collapse onto a stool by the fire, realizing that this was the first time he had truly stopped moving in almost sixty hours. He smiled grimly as he peeled off his battered armor, realizing that no amount of polishing would remove some of the chips and scratches. Pads and bracers that had started this most recent adventure glossy and well-tended had become pale shadows of their former strength.
It has been an exciting day. Or rather almost three days... Funny, after everything that happened, it was the last battle that did the most damage... Without the scraps and supplies available in that cursed city, I now have no way of replacing or repairing what is damaged. Damn you, Guildenstern... You just had to die dramatically... Were you so afraid to go into the Dark alone?
The knight snorted at his own dark humor and unconsciously rolled his shoulders, feeling the skin on his back twitch and burn in unfamiliar and disturbing ways. He dreaded seeing what a mirror would almost certainly tell him, what Agent Merlose had already stared at, wide-eyed and disbelieving.
Most people...
His thoughts drifted idly for a moment as exhaustion finally obtained a hold on his body. He stared, captivated, by the play of light and shadow on his hands from the flickering fire.
Most people would think it odd for a grown man to be terrified of a tattoo. Then again, most people would've died of fright having seen the things I've seen today, the things I /killed/ today. Was I afraid? I can't even remember.... It's like some sort of bad dream.... nothing that has happened seems real.
Struggling to remember exactly when recent events had slipped out of his usually iron control, his cold logic gave only one answer. Ashley turned once more to watch Sydney. The younger man had fallen into a tenuous sleep, his face tight and drawn with pain, pale even in the warm glow of the firelight. Light gleamed, sinister on cold metal, as one of his 'arms' dangled limply over the edge of the small bed, fingertips brushing the floor. In repose they looked simply bizarre; without his will controlling and guiding them they were mere armor and levers, lifeless and inanimate. They gave Sydney a disturbingly disorderly appearance, reminding Ashley vaguely of one of his son's toys, a doll left fallen in a heap and forgotten, broken. Ashley winced as his thought flowed naturally from that memory to the last, all too familiar memory of his son. Desperate to not relive that moment yet again, he concentrated on his immediate surroundings: the forest noises outside, the crackling of the fire, the way the sleeping man's hair almost glowed golden in the firelight. He would have looked almost childlike if not for his pained expression and obvious exhaustion.
A devil-child is more like... like those fairy tales where the Wild Ones steal babes out of their cribs and replace them with creatures made up of mischief and magic... 'Fey Children'... Aye, that's a good word for you, Sydney... you are as fey as Satan himself when it pleases you... Shall I tell you that when you wake, I wonder? Might that make you laugh? More likely you'd tear yourself open in the attempt. How do you do it, Sydney? No man should look as good as you do. Even when more than half dead, there is something about you... I don't understand... I know what I've seen but I still don't understand... And no matter what you say, Sydney... I have a feeling that I have very little time to get my answers from you.
Too tired to eat, Ashley wrapped himself in the remaining dust-ridden blanket and, sword close at hand, propped himself against the thick wooden door. His instincts, both old and new, told him that there was no danger in the night, but training and habit made the actions natural and necessary. As drowsy as he was, his thoughts continued to flit and buzz, refusing to fix upon any one idea, but rather content to go where they would. He had been finding it very hard to concentrate since the events in Léa Monde but was willing to admit that it was likely a symptom of his over-tired brain. Keeping vigil on his companion, he tried to prepare himself for sleep, going over the events of the day in his mind.
Smoke was still billowing, hot and acrid, from the collapsed city as the Riskbreaker emerged into the pale dawn light and, fighting his trembling muscles, gently laid his burden onto the grass under a convenient tree. Bruised and bleeding from hundreds of cuts and scrapes, he staggered to his feet and returned to the cellar to retrieve his pack from the base of the stairs. The ground was still shaking regularly with the aftershocks of the power released with Guildenstern's death, the WellSpring's energy destroying the once-grand ruins.
"What a fine pair the two of us make, two of the Walking-Dead of Léa Monde escaping our fate." Ashley collapsed next to his barely-breathing companion. Coated as they both were in blood, dust, and the grime of the Undercity, they almost resembled the very "Cold Ones" that were at the moment being trapped forever in the burning ruins. Looking down at his mortally wounded comrade, Ashley couldn't help but wonder if Sydney would soon be joining the increasing death-toll of the day. He was surprised when the frail man shifted, and came back to himself with a groan.
"I for one... am not dead yet... Riskbreaker." The shallow whisper was laden with sarcasm. "Speak for yourself... If you must." Sydney, forgetting his injuries, made to raise himself on his elbows, but quickly stopped with a gasp of pain.
"Don't try to move Sydney. Guildenstern claimed a substantial portion of your back as a prize not so long ago... Do you remember nothing?" Ashley closed his eyes and readied a "Healing" spell to administer to the freshly-bleeding man, but before he could release the energies they sputtered and collapsed on themselves, disappearing into the air. Staring in amazement at his hands, Ashley bit off a curse and tried again, to the same result. By this point Sydney was wide awake and observing with avid curiosity.
"It seems," the enchanter lost his voice momentarily, and fought the urge to cough before beginning again in a slightly stronger voice. "It seems that the region's ley-lines have achieved a resonant state of flux." He smiled weakly, looking perversely proud to still be able to confound the soldier despite his obviously poor condition. Ashley exerted the remainder of his frazzled self-control to keep from shaking the smaller man until he spoke sense.
Well, at least he hasn't changed after all that has happened.... I grant him the power of the gods, it is stolen and used by a madman with delusions of grandeur, this region's geography nearly ends up realigning, with us at the bottom of a very large crater, and what does he do? He not only "saves the day," but rescues me, himself, his pack, and still has energy enough left over to ponder my homicide. And he's not even tapping into the Rood yet... His stamina is unholy...
Sydney nearly flinched at the unexpected grim turn of his thoughts, and staring up into the irritated eyes of his temporary ally, he felt the first twinges of what could only be guilt. Even if the knight didn't recognize it yet, he soon would. It was as obvious as day to Sydney, but then he knew the signs. The Dark was with the Riskbreaker now, coiled inside him, settling into its new home, its new Rood-Bearer. Under the grime and sweat on the older man's muscled back the mark was plainly seen, and in his mind there was the seed; the power was his if he had the strength to tame it. For the first time since his conversation with the now-late Rosencrantz, Sydney realized that he felt tired; not just worn out from the day's events, but soul-tired, of everything, of his life, of the Dark, of the never-ending games and mysteries, of being Sydney. He dropped his gaze and rested his cheek more comfortably against the ground, defeated.
"You have questions, Ashley." The younger man attempted to shift to a more comfortable position, but had no energy for the effort. "I don't know how long I can stay awake... but ask... I cannot lie to you now." The Riskbreaker's expression shifted for a moment, from confusion to distrust and finally to wary acceptance. Instead of immediately interrogating his captive, he studied the younger man for a moment, and then moved to gently lift him and reposition the arm trapped under his body.
Surprised at the tenderness of his rescuer's touch, Sydney looked up in amazement, but was unable to decipher the feelings hidden behind the Riskbreaker's tired eyes. He made to speak again but was silenced by a finger on his lips. "I have questions, yes, but let them wait. I have a feeling that if we do not tend to you first, then the only way you'll be answering anyone is through an oracle. But one question first if you can..." Ashley looked around the rapidly brightening clearing, seeing no signs of human life. "What has happened to your companion Hardin, your brother, and Agent Merlose? Before, you said that they were safe... but safe where?"
Sydney frowned in concentration, gathering the last tattered vestiges of his now weakened will, and Reached out with his mind, trying to find the familiar, comforting dusky warmth of Hardin's thoughts. A shiver ran through him as he realized that the man was gone; not simply absent, but removed from the waking-world. The impressions of his friend's last moments were still resonating nearby. Suppressing a sob of dismay and sorrow, he desperately re-cast his mind, this time searching for the small golden spark that he always associated with his little brother. At length, with his vision beginning to go grey in pain and fatigue, he got the briefest impression of the child's mind. "He is close!" Sydney gasped for air as he returned to himself, barely aware of the strong hands supporting him as he shuddered from the effects of overreaching. Ashley waited quietly for the prophet to gain some control of his body.
"Your fellow agent, and Joshua... they are close by," Sydney closed his eyes against the disorientation that was making the world slosh and swirl. "There is a small stream near... I think that perhaps they are there... Hardin..." His voice caught in his throat and he swallowed the urge to cry. He had never cried, and he wasn't about to start now. The hand supporting his shoulder gave the barest squeeze, as the Riskbreaker lowered him to the grass and moved past him to grab something from the pack.
"I will see if I can find them then, if they are close. This place is fairly well concealed, Sydney; be still and do not stir yourself, I will be back soon."
Sydney felt certain that the Riskbreaker expected a sharp reply to his command, but as he succeeded in thinking of one, he realized that he simply didn't care. They were both rather surprised then, when he simply sighed and nodded, pillowing his forehead in the cool grass.
The silvery brook was easily found, and as Ashley quietly followed its bank the sound of a woman gently humming filtered through the trees. The image that was revealed as he peered through the leaves struck a chord deep in his battered soul and, unable to stop himself, he fell into a memory.
A child's laughter and sunlight filled the small parlor in the lazy summer afternoon as Ashley returned home. Tia and Marco were in the middle of a splash fight as the little boy sat in the wooden tub for his weekly bath. Tia, mussed and damp from her efforts, looked adorable as she turned with a smile to welcome her husband home. He came towards them, and stooping to give a quick kiss to damp wife and child, moved to strip off his work-clothes in the bedroom.
This... This is love... This is everything...
Ashley leaned on their bedroom door, happy to simply watch the two most important people in his life finish their weekly ritual of water and soap. Tia was gently pouring a pitcher of clean water over the little boy as he covered his eyes, giggling in delight. At last the boy, clean, was lifted out if the tub into a soft towel. But there was a nagging feeling in the back of the man's mind that something was amiss. Feeling suddenly anxious, his gaze swept across the room, noting wife and child, furniture and fixtures, and the late afternoon that was still visible through the window. Everything was as it should be and soon they would dress their son and sit for dinner.
So why do I dread?
He turned his gaze back to his child and he nearly shouted in shock; the boy had altered, becoming a little older, his hair paling and lengthening to his chin. Tia continued to hum and towel off her son as the little boy, no longer Marco, watched Ashley with sad, serious eyes and finally raised a hand to point at him.
"There is a man."
This is not what happened!
Ashley pulled himself from his memories with an almost physical wrench and forced himself to become aware of reality. Surely enough, Joshua, still wrapped in the rag Callo was using as a towel, was pointing right at him, his voice calm and soft, "There is a man." Callo immediately reacted, and reaching behind the boy, came up with a wicked crossbow, shaking her still-damp hair out of her face to cock it threateningly where the child pointed.
"I cannot see you, stranger, but I know you are there. Cease your sneaking and reveal yourself at once!" Her voice was frightened but determined. Her expression quickly became all surprise and relief, however, when Ashley pushed through the last of the bushes, giving her a grim half-smile. "Agent Riot! You're alive!"
"How fare you and the boy?" The Riskbreaker took a moment to kneel by the water and rinse his face and neck free of the grime of the past several hours. Callo was quickly dressing the now-clean child in his still-damp clothes, and shrugged at his disapproving look.
"We are as well as can be for now, but a fresh change of clothes and a warm bed would go a long way towards guaranteeing that we stay that way." She proceeded to pull her own boots and armor back on. "At least we'll both have time to dry before dark, so there will be little chance for him to catch cold. If he hasn't already from being in that accursed city for a day."
"It is true that we will need to find shelter. I have Sydney with me," he gestured back toward the ruins, ignoring her surprised look. "He does not fare very well and there seems to be little I can do for his injuries here. If you will join me, I think we had better discuss a strategy for the next few hours, and the cultist does have the best knowledge of the terrain." Ashley stopped for a moment to dip the helmet under his arm into the cool water, and then soaked a handful of rags as well. Checking to make sure he was followed, he slowly returned to where the other man lay prone. Callo captured the little boy's hand and, giving it a squeeze, began to follow her partner, only to stop and stare in amazement.
"Agent Riot, your back!"
Spilling out from under the man's brief shirt, and extending from shoulder to shoulder and up to the base of his neck, was a familiar pattern. The dark, curling lines seemed especially ominous in the shady forest, reminding Callo of a similar pattern on the back of another man who was often clothed in shadow. The very man in fact, that they were on their way to see. Ashley made no sign that he heard her outburst and continued to move into the trees. Merlose felt suddenly wary as she scooped Joshua into her arms and silently followed the knight back toward the city.
I must be weaker than I thought... This... This does not bode well.
Sydney didn't like to admit it, but he was fighting for every minute of consciousness, his reality rapidly reducing to the sensations of his skin. The grass, soft and fresh-scented below his face, provided his only solid tie to the world and a curious counterpoint to the all-consuming throbbing that was his back and abdomen. It would have been pointless bragging to say that he had survived worse pain; his metal arms shifted in silent memory. However, when that had occurred he had been safe and cared for, certain that his wounds would be tended with haste and precision, not caught alone in a magical dead-zone with a child who needed him and two dubious allies. He listened carefully, not daring to tap into his other abilities again for fear of draining himself further. If he focused, he could still hear the crackling of the fires and the muted rumbles coming from the still-collapsing city across the bay. Despite those noises, he soon identified footsteps coming from the direction of the forest. Ashley's sure and almost inaudible tread was nearly masked by his partner's louder and more hesitant one. As they came into view, Joshua moaned in worry and wriggled free of Callo's grip to stumble to his bleeding brother's side.
"Mind the claws, boy, mind the claws!" Sydney fought to keep his voice steady and gentle as he pulled his knees under him in preparation to rise. He needed to be strong a little while longer, for Joshua if for no one else. "I'm still here, I haven't abandoned you." Braced on his hands and knees, he realized he could go no further, his body protesting any more elevation strenuously. Joshua was blissfully unaware of the agony burning in his sibling's mind as he eagerly sat down next to the young cultist and clung to one of his metal arms, soot and grime wiping off on his freshly cleaned cheek. "I'm filthy, you know, not that you care I suppose." The boy nodded sagely at Sydney's practical tone. The young man looked up at the two VKP, noting the woman's similar cleaned state. "You've taken good care if him... You have my gratitude."
"It was your man Hardin who led us out of danger, and when he... I thought you two would certainly be dead, who else was there to watch over the boy." The tender look she cast towards the child proved she did not mind the burden. "He died here then?" Sydney allowed himself a little hope. "He died outside the city?" Callo nodded sadly and made a small gesture toward the older ruined walls higher on the hill. Sighing in relief, Sydney dropped his head to gently kiss Joshua's hair. "Then he is free... the palling did not trap him.... I am glad." His blonde hair, matted with dust and blood, provided a needed shelter for his crumbling expression.
If there's to be any hope of keeping him alive, we must move quickly...
Ashley made careful note of the cultist's slow but continuous bleeding before stirring himself to action. "Merlose, please detach the boy and see what you can find in my pack that can be made into bandages. The hour grows late and I wish to be gone from this place before searchers arrive." Ignoring her confusion, he knelt next to the younger man. "Your wounds need to be cleaned and dressed before you bleed out. Brace yourself." He waited for Sydney to nod his head, the blonde's expression tight and determined. It was slow work to sponge the massive wound clean, but it gave Callo time to shred one of the wizard robes tucked into his pack into long strips. Sydney made neither move nor sound through the grueling process, even when the two agents bound his now-cleaned chest with a crude bandage. His claws betrayed what his voice would not as they dug deep into the hard ground, leaving sharp furrows in the soil. Joshua watched the proceedings wide-eyed, waiting for Callo to say it was all right for him to rejoin his brother.
When they were finished, Joshua tentatively returned and used the remaining clean water and cloth in an attempt to sponge off some of the grime on his brother's face, arms, and hair. Ashley found the sight strangely moving as he and Callo dumped the bloody rags over the edge of the cliff. The small child, so serious in his task, was wiping methodically at the thick gray coating in order to find a familiar face underneath. Sydney slowly came back to himself as the pain receded to tolerable levels, and felt the cool cloth on his face. At length satisfied that Sydney was Sydney once more, Joshua snuggled into the young man's chest, careful not to cling too tightly. The cultist shifted and, using the boy for leverage, was at last able to sit somewhat normally, an arm around the child for balance.
"What happens now, Riskbreaker?" His voice was cracked and parched, sounded alien to his ears, and he gingerly reached for the remaining water, feeling his back burn with pain at the motion. The water was tepid and tasted of 'helmet' but was a welcome balm for his throat.
"Should we not wait here for the VKP to arrive? Why must we flee?" Callo Merlose sat beside Joshua, determined to be the voice of reason. "We have done no wrong! It was all the fault of the Crimson Blades, the Church! And surely we must return the child to his father quickly as the man has little time left! We must go back." The Inquisitor stared in disbelief as the two men looked first to the city, then at one another, seemingly reading each other's minds. It was Ashley who spoke first.
"There can be no going back, not for me... and as for him," he pointed his chin at the cultist, "You know what sort of justice awaits him at the hands of the Cardinal. He would be lucky to only be crucified outside the gates of the city, a heretic. Think, woman! You're trained in logic, aren't you?"
Sydney shot an irritated look at the Riskbreaker's harsh response and turned to the woman. "He's right, you know. I'd rather die here than be taken prisoner by our oh-so-holy Church, and I don't think Ashley would appreciate having our earlier conversation terminated at this point. But it gets worse, I fear, for you see that just as we cannot be found out, neither can you. There is no going back... for any of us."
"But my job! My life! You expect me to just walk away? This is madness! And what of the boy? Your brother? Why should he be made homeless and orphaned!"
"It is necessary, I fear... Had Hardin not died... then maybe you could have gone back, but Joshua cannot and he needs you, he needs you to take care of him. It is a task that neither Ashley nor I can accomplish. You must realize that the Cardinal will allow no element of the truth of this matter to ever see the light of day. Even if you were to lie your tongue black about the events that happened here, he would know you had been here, and would make sure your silence was permanent. He will allow no hint of his nature to be revealed that goes counter to his desires." The cultist gently patted the child's head.
"As for Joshua, with my father dying, there will soon be no one to protect him. The Cardinal has wanted the extermination of my family for a long time now. There is a history between him and my father... lines that were drawn long before any of this and yet so relevant..." He saw the curiosity in the woman's eyes, but found he had no interested in sharing his family's secrets. "The story is long and tedious and completely incidental to the current matter. I promised Father that Joshua would be safe. However I cannot fulfill the promise alone. You must take the boy and flee, make a new life for yourself, take Hardin's place... it has all been arranged already." Sydney paused, exhausted by the long speech. He could feel Ashley's eyes on him, watching him for signs of faltering.
"You must go, quickly, to the North. There is a small fishing village called Meltee that is a Müllencamp safe-haven. Tell the barkeep, Dekter, that I have sent you... tell him everything... he will know what to do." He gently shook the boy until Joshua looked up, his face frightened. "Shhhh, I know, you don't want to do this any more than she does... but you must, you must live, and be happy, or everything father and I have sacrificed..." Sydney's voice failed him a moment as he saw the tears start to fall. "Callo will stay with you... she won't ever leave you, I promise, but you and I, we have to part... Ashley and I must seek shelter elsewhere to distract the holy hounds from finding you." His own pain forgotten, the prophet gathered the child tightly to his chest, his face once more concealed in his hair and his voice reduced to a murmur as he provided what comfort he could.
"Come then," Ashley's voice and touch jogged Merlose out of her reverie. "If you start soon and stay to the paths you should make Meltee by nightfall."
"Riot, " she stared at him, her wonder and fear apparent in her eyes. "Do you believe him so readily? What if this is a trap, another web of lies? What if..." Her frantic questions died at his serious look.
"I won't pretend I fully understand what has happened here, Merlose, because frankly, I haven't yet convinced myself that everything I've seen is real. But I do know several things, the first of which is that the Cardinal will stop at nothing to learn what has truly happened here, will stop at nothing to harness the power that was contained within... I believe Sydney, this is no mere dream of conspiracy, we've seen enough to know that, and the power is real. I have seen that too." He pulled her towards his now nearly empty bag. "But my instincts tell me you're right not to want to rely only on the cult's generosity. As the last days have shown us, we are standing on shifting sands, as it were... we must rely on ourselves. Here, in my travels I found you a present."
Ashley uncovered a carefully wrapped bundle still in the bag and lifted out one of four dusty green bottles, passing it to his partner.Callo let out a breath in awe as she tenderly picked up the bottle, realizing that she was holding a fortune worth more than her entire life, more even than her father's small estate. "You found wine!" She felt faint. "I cannot accept these, Agent Riot, they're worth a king's ransom!"
His quiet laugh startled her. "And what would I do with a 'king's ransom'? Take them, Merlose, buy a new life, although I'll wager you'll be cursing them soon enough when you realize how much they weigh." Ashley carefully repacked the bottles, and then added the remaining supplies, another crossbow, a handful of gems, and several daggers. "Go and do as Sydney bids you. He would not knowingly put his brother into danger he could prevent. But be wary, trust no one completely, and keep safe. I think that those two have just about finished saying their good-byes now..." He helped her get the pack on her shoulders and offered her his hand, which she quickly clung to.
"I'm sorry you got caught up in this, Agent Merlose. It was never my intent to risk anyone's life but my own... Sydney would probably say that this is destiny. I'm still uncertain, but it matters not. Fare-you-well, Miss Callo, I think it likely that it will be some time before we meet again." They turned to their companions in time to see Sydney slowly extract himself from the now calmed child and motion for the boy to go with Callo. His face, while sad, showed no evidence of tears as the young woman and boy moved off, hand-in-hand, not looking back.
Not bothering to hide his pain any longer, Sydney slumped forward with a dry chuckle. "And then they were two..." he breathed, resting on his elbows. Ashley snorted and gathered up the remaining items, sorting through the various gems, blades, and equipment that Merlose hadn't needed.
Without the pack it will be easier to carry Sydney; he can barely stand much less walk. But there remains the question of what to do with all of this... and then I must disguise the tracks... the gems can be used to buy shelter and supplies, but the shields are too big and useless, as is the dragon-spear...
The Riskbreaker sorted quickly and methodically through the gear, casually casting unwanted weapons and armor into the bay until he was left with only two swords and his belt pouch. Checking briefly on the resting man, he then proceeded to remove all traces of their passage from the tunnel's blocked entrance and surrounding area.
It is far from perfect; there was no way to obliterate it all, so they'll know someone has been here but at least not why. And with any luck, by the time they figure it out we'll be long gone... but gone where?
Ashley returned to the resting man's side, only to find Sydney awake and watching him, weak smile on his face. Sydney voiced an answer to the question Ashley had yet to ask.
"East I think... away from Valendia." He blinked his eyes tiredly, "If we walk the stream bed it will lead most of the way through to the wood's eastern edge... and do us the additional service of disguising our scent, should they bring hounds of the more mundane variety."
"Why am I not surprised that you are well trained in the ways of outlaws, Sydney." Ashley found the dry humor came easily to his gradually clearing brain; sitting for the brief while had done him some good. Looking up to check the position of the nearly noonday sun, he sighed, and as gently as possible pulled his companion onto his back like an overgrown child.
It's going to be a long day
Careful to leave no sign of his passage, and adjusting his living burden to a more comfortable position, Ashley moved quickly into the shadows of the woods, speeding away from the scene of the death of his former life.
I can't believe I wrote the whole thing... oh wait... this is only part 1... damn. I know I warned you in advance but I'll say it again, I'm a terrible writer, I get bogged down in description etc. and never get to the point... just wait till I get to a fight scene you'll be so sorry... I also over use flashback, I love flashback it's fun and it is far easier to write things in the past tense... especially for people like me who must dredge up faint memories of HS grammar rules for passive-voice and yadda yadda yadda. I think I actually like this chapter <gasp> as long and dull as it is, the characters all behaved themselves and I feel hopeful for the rest, should there be a rest...
If you haven't guessed it yet, this is gonna be shonen-ai all the way, if you think they're not meant for each other, go play the game again. : ) If it bothers you, well you'll probably be fine for the next couple of chapters. Just keep repeating over and over 'They're just good friends... friends... friends..." but come ch3... well, you're screwed... Sorry.
Things that annoy me: "caps lock" keys... what's the point? They're frelling irritating, that's the point Also I think I need to have Sydney's thoughts be a different font... it gets confusing later on if I don't...