Even if you walk a hundred roads you may not find what you what you seek,
but never grow so arrogant that you ignore what the journey itself gives you.
Never had a night seemed so long, or so dark. She waited until the fire had almost burned out, glowing embers all that remained, as if delaying her final decision would somehow change her options. As darkness fell, the half-human character beyond the remains of her fire opened his eyes again, watching her. Her eyes met his and he raised an eyebrow as if to repeat his question from earlier. What happens now?
She sighed, then stood and activated her little light spell. His pupils contracted in the sudden light, becoming almost invisible black slits floating in pools of green and gold.
"I've been trying to decide what to do with you," she began, making an indecisive gesture. Since she did it with the hand holding the Bless Blade she quickly got his full attention.
"Nothing prepared me for all this. I can't say I like my options here, but I simply can't leave you to prowl the countryside, being a threat to the people living there."
His body tensed, his eyes never leaving the sword she held.
She promised she'd let me live. Gods, please let her keep her word...
A part of himself screamed in contempt at his weakness and fear, but right now survival was all that mattered. The thought of once again suffering that pain, that utter loneliness, drowning in that final darkness of death made him shiver uncontrollably. If he had to beg for his life, he would. If there was anything at all she'd demand him do to spare him, he would do it. That knowledge was an extremely painful blow against his self esteem, and completely shredded his already injured pride.
"So what have you decided to do..?"
At least he managed to keep his voice steady. She remained silent for a while, long enough to make him feel really uneasy, then she sighed again.
"I guess I have no other choice but to take you with me. Someone's got to keep a close check you, and since I'm the only one who knows you have returned..."
She shook her head. Careful not to harm the little seedling she raised her hand and rubbed her weary eyes.
"I'm just too tired to make any important decisions right now, so at least for the moment being..."
He just stared at her in amazement. That certainly wasn't what he had expected. She had made no secret of her animosity towards him, yet she chose to suffer his company rather than getting rid of him once and for all. She remained true to her word, even if the consequences were obviously unpleasant to her. Somewhere in the still confused tangle that was his mind he felt a brief twitch of respect that had nothing to do with either that accursed Bless Blade or her magic.
Really nothing like with Eris at all.
The last glow of the fire died down, the ghosts of blackened twigs finally collapsing into a cloud of cinders. Only the ball of pale light in her palm kept the darkness at bay. She could feel her body aching from exhaustion, it seemed to have been forever since she had last gotten some sleep. She wanted to get home now, as soon as possible. She looked down at the ragged figure who still huddled by the ashes of the fire. He reminded her of a scarecrow with his torn clothes, muddled hair and scrawny body. At least the warmth of the fire had given his deathly pale skin a faint touch of color.
"Can you walk?" she asked. He nodded, a determined expression on his face.
"Yes."
His voice sounded confident, without any hesitation, but she got the impression she was not the one he was trying to convince. He stretched and winced as stiffened muscles were forced into action. With slow, deliberate movements he managed to get his feet under him and stand, albeit a bit unsteadily. She'd forgotten just how tall he was, she didn't even reach him to the shoulder. And yet, for some strange reason, she didn't feel frightened as he loomed over her. Perhaps because he was careful to keep his distance, or maybe because of the reassuring weight of the sword in her hand. Perhaps simply because he didn't look very dangerous, just a weary and worn man, probably more afraid of her than she was of him. That thought made her blink in surprise. Yet, it wasn't really that farfetched. She shook her head and turned to leave, the ashes of the fire and the rejected teacup the only indication left of what had taken place in the dark ruins that night.
They say the night is darkest right before dawn.
That must be true, I can't remember ever having seen a night this black. Or this cold. The air is so clear I feel I could reach up and touch the stars if I wanted. I can't remember this road ever having been so long before, either. Such a strange night, in every way.
There was a scraping noise behind her, followed by a hiss of irritation as he stumbled yet again, barely avoiding to fall flat on his face.
A strange night, indeed. If someone had told her a few days ago she would be walking this road in the dead of the night with the destroyer of Sairaag as her travelling companion, she certainly wouldn't have believed them. Maybe this is a dream, after all. It surely seems unreal enough. Ceipheed, I'm tired.
He followed the blue-haired girl, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. Moving hurt. Well, maybe not so strange, considering. The howling chaos of his mind had faded into a dull throb, he had to use all his concentration simply to stay upright. And walk. Left foot. Right foot. At least his feet didn't hurt any more. Numbed by the cold, like his fingers, they had stopped aching several hours ago. Or however long it had been. His concept of time had always been rather loose, his own short life span not much of a reference. Added to that were the glimpses of centuries worth of someone else's memories. All those parallel notions had been stuffed into his jagged mind, and he was left with a jumble of memories of two pasts, a frantic grip on the present and a very insufficient ability to picture the future.
He was jerked from his thoughts as his feet betrayed him once more and he tripped over a little bump in the road. He managed to regain his balance after a few stumbling steps, but his stiff joints complained loudly over the abuse. Clenching his jaw he resumed his pace, it was all so downright humiliating.
He hated this weakness!
Oh, how Eris had scorned him for not having the strength of her precious Rezo-sama.
He had fought long and hard to grasp the memories of magic, to become confident enough in his power to try to surpass that man; to just once be compared to him and found to suffice. And yet he had failed...
Distracted by his thoughts he forgot to concentrate on where he was going and stumbled on his own tired feet. Not quick enough to break his fall this time, he fell to his knees, the impact sending a jarring shock through him. Blinking back tears of frustration he furiously slammed his fists against the ground, as if that could somehow deliver him from the hateful feeling of helplessness. The blue-haired girl stopped and waited for him to catch up, but she didn't turn around. His face flushed, he picked himself up and brushed away gravel from his hands and robes. A rather meaningless act, considering the shape of his clothes, but it felt better all the same. As he caught up with her she started walking again, without a word.
He concentrated on walking, determined not to stumble again. Left foot. Right foot. Sheer willpower kept him upright. The hellish road seemed to go on forever.
The story idea is mine, obviously, since I doubt anyone else has a weird enough mind to consider something like this. It was all based on a dream I had, actually. Amazing, now you know that too.
The quotes are from Oshiro-sama's Letters to a Red Priest (in other words, I made 'em up) and can't be used without my permission. If you ask nicely and give me credit you'll most likely get my permission, but anyways...
Many heartfelt thanks to Jen for actually encouraging me to write this, to Syrena for beta reading it and telling me it's good (don't hit her), and to Wendy for not smacking me too hard with that fish of hers...
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