Sharn pulled her white cloak around her as she neared the river Derdank. There were often fishermen out in the early mornings picking holes in the ice. Sharn did not want to be seen by anyone just in case she was still being tracked.
She had noticed the noise shortly before dawn. A slow sort of slithering. But everytime she stopped so did the noise. Sharn's heart had started racing and her body ached with the desire to fly, to escape this danger through the crisp air. But she couldn't, so she was forced to keep walking, keeping an eye out for any immediate danger. After some time the sound disappeared, but Sharn was determend not to be caught off guard. Not this time.
Sharn stopped just before the river and slipped on a pair of worn out brown boots. They looked odd in comparison to her completely white outfit, but they were necessary. As Sharn stepped onto the bridge that would take her across the river, a deep footprint was left in the snow. Sharn gasped as the snow came up to her knees. It was deeper than she thought. She took another step and the same thing happened with the other foot. Sharn was leaving a trail.
"For Whom?" one might ask.
Why, for No Body, of course.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Chapter 3: Winter
She raised her head the barest fraction. There it was. The sound that was not a sound. The footsteps of a man who no longer existed, slowly approaching the bridge.
She sucked in an eager breath, and slowly rose from her knees. Muscles ached and shuddered as she moved for the first time in over twenty-eight hours. Then adrenaline kicked in, burning away discomfort, and she slithered quietly through the snow towards her target.
Kaed hated the cold seasons here. This total freezing over of the world was completely unnatural. Choked sunlight, chill winds every hour of the day, this awful, wretched snow and ice. Everything out here froze, died, and was consumed. He could feel it happening to his thin flesh already, the stinging burn of his body struggling to maintain warmth.
The cold seasons were supposed to be a time of calming rest, cooling down, a period of rejuvenation. In this part of the world, it was a time of misery, often death. People were caged in their own homes, sometimes trapped in other buildings or inadequate shelters, with no safe way to return. What a terrible existence to endure for an entire season.
Kaed had no intention of hanging around in the snow long enough to be that miserable. He could never again return to his own country, but there must be other parts of the world where the land was less hateful, and the environment was as it should be. The people, of course, would be consequently stronger. Kaed hated weakness, hated a people who were collectively weak. It made him feel frustrated and helpless, that they were too broken to see the beauty of natural life, of the order of the world, of the challenges that could build character and imbue one with life and joy. But they only strove to force the universe to their will, to destroy and remake and alter things to their pleasure. It sickened Kaed to see such self-imposed blindness.
His own people were also losing their strength. They called out for changes to millenia-old laws and traditions, choosing easier pathways and simpler, more cruel punishments to the trespassers of their Rule. They were being tainted with the shallow minds of the weaker peoples, and were seeking to impose their self-righteous destruction on the very landscape.
Kaed knew better, and he was eternally grateful for it. Even in this damning exile, he knew. He would die in truth before he saw his people to regress into these winters of ice. He would save every last one of them from their own folly, even if it cost him what was left of his soul.
She sucked in an eager breath, and slowly rose from her knees. Muscles ached and shuddered as she moved for the first time in over twenty-eight hours. Then adrenaline kicked in, burning away discomfort, and she slithered quietly through the snow towards her target.
***
Kaed hated the cold seasons here. This total freezing over of the world was completely unnatural. Choked sunlight, chill winds every hour of the day, this awful, wretched snow and ice. Everything out here froze, died, and was consumed. He could feel it happening to his thin flesh already, the stinging burn of his body struggling to maintain warmth.
The cold seasons were supposed to be a time of calming rest, cooling down, a period of rejuvenation. In this part of the world, it was a time of misery, often death. People were caged in their own homes, sometimes trapped in other buildings or inadequate shelters, with no safe way to return. What a terrible existence to endure for an entire season.
Kaed had no intention of hanging around in the snow long enough to be that miserable. He could never again return to his own country, but there must be other parts of the world where the land was less hateful, and the environment was as it should be. The people, of course, would be consequently stronger. Kaed hated weakness, hated a people who were collectively weak. It made him feel frustrated and helpless, that they were too broken to see the beauty of natural life, of the order of the world, of the challenges that could build character and imbue one with life and joy. But they only strove to force the universe to their will, to destroy and remake and alter things to their pleasure. It sickened Kaed to see such self-imposed blindness.
His own people were also losing their strength. They called out for changes to millenia-old laws and traditions, choosing easier pathways and simpler, more cruel punishments to the trespassers of their Rule. They were being tainted with the shallow minds of the weaker peoples, and were seeking to impose their self-righteous destruction on the very landscape.
Kaed knew better, and he was eternally grateful for it. Even in this damning exile, he knew. He would die in truth before he saw his people to regress into these winters of ice. He would save every last one of them from their own folly, even if it cost him what was left of his soul.
Chapter 3: Nico
A loan figure glided over the snow. She wore a pair of baggy pants and a short sleeved cotton shirt, all white, and she had a white fur coat drapped over one arm. Her long silvery hair was pulled back in a braid and her frosty white skin blended perfactly with the snow. It was well past midnight and the full moon was shining down on the snow causing it to shimmer and glow. The woman smiled. It was truly beautiful.
Her bare feet landed lightly on the snow, but left no footprints, no indictation that any life had tred upon it. Even better, she thought. That would make it impossible to track her. And that was exactly what she wanted. The Wanderer, the Hidden, the Forgotten; all of those titles were hers for the taking. After all they fit her story so well.
"So where will you go now?" A deep voice said from behind her.
"I think I will go to Avenath. It is a big city, easy to get lost in. It will be perfact," the woman said without even turning around.
The man nodded. "Be careful, Sharn. There are many dangers in Avenath."
Sharn turned to look at the man who had saved her time and time again. He was tall and Sharn knew that under his hood was a handsom face. She could almost see his dark eyes, so thoughtful, so knowing, and so sad.
"Nico," she said at last, "Thank you. Thank you for everything."
Her bare feet landed lightly on the snow, but left no footprints, no indictation that any life had tred upon it. Even better, she thought. That would make it impossible to track her. And that was exactly what she wanted. The Wanderer, the Hidden, the Forgotten; all of those titles were hers for the taking. After all they fit her story so well.
"So where will you go now?" A deep voice said from behind her.
"I think I will go to Avenath. It is a big city, easy to get lost in. It will be perfact," the woman said without even turning around.
The man nodded. "Be careful, Sharn. There are many dangers in Avenath."
Sharn turned to look at the man who had saved her time and time again. He was tall and Sharn knew that under his hood was a handsom face. She could almost see his dark eyes, so thoughtful, so knowing, and so sad.
"Nico," she said at last, "Thank you. Thank you for everything."
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Chapter 2: Insidious
She waited for no one.
It was quite a tiring thing, waiting for absolutely nobody at all. And very cold. Several inches of snow covered her kneeling form by now; perfectly still and silent, hidden in the thick dwarf trees near where a solid stone bridge interrupted the road.
The burn of the constant chill was almost pleasurably soothing. A dangerous sensation, she knew. She'd been kneeling in the same place since yesterday afternoon, letting the chill soak in to keep her still, calm, patient.
He would be passing this way this evening, but she didn't dare stake a crumb on any fact relayed by word of mouth. She'd searched and planned for this so long and desperately, she couldn't afford herself a single mistake.
He was no one. No one at all. It was decreed and made law many years ago; his existence was no longer acknowledged by their kind. But even a dead man can cause severe problems, in his own right. Especially if he knew he was, indeed, nobody.
The bridge shadowed wickedly over the frozen rift. The road beyond was lifeless. But then, she wasn't looking for any life. Not tonight.
She waited for no one.
It was quite a tiring thing, waiting for absolutely nobody at all. And very cold. Several inches of snow covered her kneeling form by now; perfectly still and silent, hidden in the thick dwarf trees near where a solid stone bridge interrupted the road.
The burn of the constant chill was almost pleasurably soothing. A dangerous sensation, she knew. She'd been kneeling in the same place since yesterday afternoon, letting the chill soak in to keep her still, calm, patient.
He would be passing this way this evening, but she didn't dare stake a crumb on any fact relayed by word of mouth. She'd searched and planned for this so long and desperately, she couldn't afford herself a single mistake.
He was no one. No one at all. It was decreed and made law many years ago; his existence was no longer acknowledged by their kind. But even a dead man can cause severe problems, in his own right. Especially if he knew he was, indeed, nobody.
The bridge shadowed wickedly over the frozen rift. The road beyond was lifeless. But then, she wasn't looking for any life. Not tonight.
She waited for no one.
Chapter 1: Sharn
The laughing in the bar continued despite the heavy snows that countinued on outside. No one stopped to notice a hooded figure step through the front door. After all, that was a common occurance during the winter. The Sea Salt Inn was the place to go to get away from the cold.
The figure glided over to the bar and ordered a drink. The bar tender didn't think twice as he poured the drink and placed it in front of the person. The figure held onto the glass and looked down at it, thinking. After placing the very tip of his finger in the ale, the figure began to slide it around the edge of the glass. A high pitched noise began to ring through the air. It was impossible to detect over the racket the croud was causing, that is unless a person was trained to hear it. A servant woman glanced at the mysterious figure from the corner of her eye. She couldn't see the man's face, but she could have sworn he was looking straight at her.
It had stopped snowing just as the last of the fishermen had been sent home, warm, happy, and very drunk. The servants had cleaned up and retired for the night. The next morning 3 feet of snow lay on the ground. One of the servants went to awaken the others. When she reached the last bed in the servants chamber, she found that it was empty. They searched everywhere for the missing girl, but there was no sign of her. There were no signs in the snow that she had left the Inn. She was not inside and she was not without. It was if she had simply vanished from the face of the earth.
The figure glided over to the bar and ordered a drink. The bar tender didn't think twice as he poured the drink and placed it in front of the person. The figure held onto the glass and looked down at it, thinking. After placing the very tip of his finger in the ale, the figure began to slide it around the edge of the glass. A high pitched noise began to ring through the air. It was impossible to detect over the racket the croud was causing, that is unless a person was trained to hear it. A servant woman glanced at the mysterious figure from the corner of her eye. She couldn't see the man's face, but she could have sworn he was looking straight at her.
It had stopped snowing just as the last of the fishermen had been sent home, warm, happy, and very drunk. The servants had cleaned up and retired for the night. The next morning 3 feet of snow lay on the ground. One of the servants went to awaken the others. When she reached the last bed in the servants chamber, she found that it was empty. They searched everywhere for the missing girl, but there was no sign of her. There were no signs in the snow that she had left the Inn. She was not inside and she was not without. It was if she had simply vanished from the face of the earth.
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