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Shexy time!
Keldoth get's off his fat [censored] and writes noaw, kthxbye!
Note to self, main character's name is Kenadri.
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We approached the silent, dark town on the cold road. On either side, the dark wood of trees had been beaten back, and kept there by curved, twisting runes on the sides of the road, a recent trick of the industrious times, at least to my memory.
Treeal didn't start as a dead town, or even one fated to be one. It was booming from it's start, thanks to gold found during the digging of the Town's well. People flocked from all over to come to the town. The streets were packed with the housing, businesses, and entertainment industry packed the streets, and the old lives that lived there were almost palpable.
But the town died. Most don't know why. After one year, the people within just.... drifted off. Little bit at a time, people either found reasons, or had none and just walked out. Year by year, till it was empty. No one came back. People didn't even loot the place.
She moved in. People didn't understand what that meant. People don't understand what She is. But the feel what surrounds her.
I could feel it now. A niggling sense of unease and discomfort surrounded it, like someone was watching you, not just seeing you, but watching you. Studying you. Understanding everything about you, seeing through you.
It is because She is.
We approached the center of town, where She nows lives. It was little over a shack, the wood rotten and decaying, a sheet over the doorway, and under which shone the light and heat of a fire within. John and myself stepped into the room, to see within wooden floors, and a room little more than a fireplace and a white mattress on the floor, made, with a green sheet. Sitting within was a girl, looking now halfway into her 20's, looking into the the fire. Her head turned as we entered, showing her pretty features of Her pale skin, her snow white hair coming down halfway down her back. Her larges eyes showed irises as white as her hair.
Faster than most people would think possible of a girl, she proceeded to charge me. John jumped back, his hand going for his sword. He had no time to get it out before my arms were trapped by this pale girl in a big hug.
I smiled. She was one of the few old friends I have. "Glad to see you are still here," I said as she buried her head into my chest.
Her voice was cool, glad, and most of all, knowing. "I was worried about the end of your story. You were gone 40 years from the book." she realized me and sat to the left of the room, near the fire. I sat across from her. She looked cold, as she always did, in a dark red skirt that fell just about her knee, a black long coat around her over a soft white tunic. Around her neck, she wore a wore a white scarf. I walked over a sat next to her, nearly 2 and a half feet taller than her.
John, a little confused, sat on the bed and waited.
"So Anabell, I'm sorry to say, this isn't just personal, there is business to be done." She looked a little sad, hugging her knees against the cold in the airy house. A flicker of my will set the fire into a roaring flame, the room warming to a comfortable state, and Anabell relaxing visibly. "Not that seeing you again was a disappointment."
She smiled again. "I understand. I know know there are things you must do, a great many things. I'm willing to give whatever help I can. Besides, I still owe you for my name.... and.. other things from long ago." Her eyes looked back to a time long ago."
I remembered those times too. "I'm afraid I ask quiet a bit, and I do not wish to call on debts of the past."
John stood up, removed a dark pouch for his belt that jingled with coin and threw it down in front of her. "This is all we have. I hope it would be enough, and we have little else to offer."
She looked up to him, confused. "It is not enough. One will never have enough rocks for a stream."
His eyes narrowed. His mind worked through it, through the logic of the phrase. "Then what do you ask?"
I held up a hand, stopping his tongue. "I come with a new story. A tale of a small village in the southern mountains.....
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A small boy sat on the porch of his home, his elbows on his knees, waiting. The sun beat down on the town like a rain of fire.
That's what he did.
He waited.
A woman walked from the house. His mother, her tan skin shining in the sun's waning light. She told him to come inside for dinner, and he followed her into the house. They sat in silence, poor grade meat was consumed. "Timmy... dad's coming to home today." She smiled and looked at the boy with hope, dressed all in black, necklace to the dark gods in his neck.
The cliched teen anger was damn near a fog.
"I was dad was dead." he said simply. As it did all the time, silence reigned in the house.
He walked into his room, to his alter to the things that go bump in the night and said his nightly pray to them, no meaning or intent behind them. A prayer for the sake of a prayer and little else.
This night, however, the angel Lacieses watched this night. Lacieses was tired of his shadow of worship to the gods. He was not a man touched by the code, he would never amount to much, even less to the dark gods.
Lac's black wings bore him across the night, his eyes scanning the town below. He saw a man walking to the house, not a block away, a spring in his step.
Lacieses dove towards him, bringing his spear ready.
"Who are you?" asked the man, his eyes alight with fright.
"Desire" Replied the angel, as his spear bit the flesh of the man's neck, taking spilling his blood to the ground. A cry escaped his lips.
The boy rushed from the house at the cry, the only one in town to hear it, on Lacieses's will.
Horror touched every part of the boy. He recoiled in horror at the sight. "Who are you?" he asked the dark figure.
"I'm the angel desire," smiled the angel, "and I know you," frost came to his features." every night I hear your prayers. Every night I hear you wishes to be more than what you are. Just a boy, just a child, for you entire life. Well now I'll give you a glimpse of what you desire so."
He threw the boy the spear. People, woken by nothing but the song of the dark, saw the boy and his father, but not the angel. The boy watched the angel stalk into the night, seeing his own demise. He was a murder now, because he knew that Laciese had guided him, or so it was to everyone else. He got his glimpse of what it was like to be one of use as he hung from the Town's highest tree.
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"You always bring me the prettiest stories." She was sitting up now, leaning forward, Her eyes narrowed in interest. "The payment is done, what do you wish in return?"
"Tell me... of my empire."
We walked out of the town in dead night. John has question in his eyes.
"Well?" I asked, in earnest curious of his pondering.
"What did she mean when she talked about the 'times you've shared?'" His tone made it obvious that he understood, but I clarified anyway.
"Anabell and myself have been... a great many things to each other." I thought fondly of times passed long ago.
It was left at that as we continued onward, my list of things that needed doing even greater than I thought before.
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Now, I tell you what, I've been in my business a long time, and I've been hired or met my contractors in dozens of ways, many of them strange. Letter drops, shadowy corridors, messages to meet somewhere found in the corpse. None of these seemed to surprise my partner.
This one did.
Then again, perhaps anyone would be surprised if a man barged into a nobleman's room, burned your current employer to ash, then gave you work to do.
"............ You killed my last employer," Aaron said, dressed in his plate mail, face hidden, threat in his voice.
"Yes," said the cloaked figure. "And I'm your employer now."
"But you cost me money. You'd better pay me-"
"He's a nobleman. Check under his mattress."
Alright, that's it for the night.
Big [censored] update, pretty much as big or bigger than my first post. My headaches at the moment, so lore will be done in the morning most likely.
Alright, finally, updated!
Kilroy is not gonna cave my face in with a cement block, grab my brain, bring it to Spiffy and have him throw it in a machine that extracts my creative juices till my brain is a withered husk and my story is done! Plus, two more people at least started being added.
Woo ~<3!
Next week, this time, I'll keep on it.
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