Topic: The Road

Hawk Jahad

Date: 2012-05-19 23:15 EST
The winds of change would always come. Seasons passing. Time, in a place where time could be subjective, irrelevant and relevant, would always perpetuate. In the forest, it was the tree; the bough that could bend that lived. That survived the harshest climate. But now the shadows knew no bounds beneath foliage that sprouted when a timid winter became weeks of rain and fervent bloom. His cloak was mottled motley of brush, ash, and oak beneath the canopy.

The forest spread.

At first it was cause to rejoice. But this was not a normal overgrowth. It had begun slowly at first. And when he learned the road less traveled was traveled less" It grew unbound. Insidious. Like a blight.

Rhy'din itself was a planet first and foremost. It was next a country, and a city that was at the epicenter of all things. All realities. But the realms outside had once been populated. There had been entire cities and towns in all directions along the road. In winter, when the cold became too much for his mortal flesh to bear, he would push himself until the next Inn shone like a beacon amongst the snowfall.

Shadows now were all that remained where people once populated. Shadows and ghosts. Underbrush over an Inn he had once known that stood long abandoned. Bushes stood where horses were often tied. Lanterns hung, rusted, barren, and forever darkened on either side of the door. Even the sign that hung to name the place had worn down to anonymity. The name even he could not place with the passage of time. Does and bucks walked by with their fawn; unabashed or abated by walking where they had long avoided the presence of humanity.

The people were all absent. Faces he did not care to know or put a name to when the Wander had taken him. This was all wrong. Not that he had ever made a habit of taking the road, but there was nothing there along it now. At one time, all major roads in Rhy'din led to somewhere out of the city. Their edges dotted by Inns and Taverns for travelers between the various towns.

Now" There was nothing. No one.

They were all gone. All that remained was the road.

Hawk Jahad

Date: 2012-06-05 17:09 EST
Someone knew.

Someone had to know.

Time had to pass outside of Rhy'din, farther from the Nexus, faster than it did within.

There was no other explanation.

Only a few years had passed but the Inn had totally succumbed to the underbrush. No one had cared for the yard in quite some time. With all the vegetation that grew in the road it was hard to tell there ever had been one. And there were no tracks, no traces, no hint of life that the Ranger could find. Over time Hawk had honed each of his senses to fit his Ranger lifestyle. And all of them led him to the same answer. No one had been inside these walls in quite some time. And there was no explanation as to why.

No one had been bothered to board the windows or place a lock on the door. Benches beside long, oak tables remained barren. The rows between covered in dust where once serving girls gracefully walked. Before the memory had turned to legend, he had found favor in the blue eyes of one with hair so gold it shimmered. In the winters, when the nights grew longer, colder, and the trek on the road seemed longer he always swore he would ask her for a dance when he reached the warmth of their welcoming fire.

But that was a story now from a vast void of memories. From a fruitful time where now only entropy remained.

There was no blood or ash. No signs of weapons drawn or unnatural divots in the floors or walls. It was not fire. It was not sickness. It was not violence that drove the owners, the employees, and the travelers from the establishment.

The further he traveled from the walls the more the road yielded to the forest. At the end there was only tall grass and weeds. A once great city that stood as a beckoning light amongst a vast desert. Yet Cadentia's belly was only full of apparitions.

No one knew why.

No one seemed to care.

But someone had the answers.

Hawk Jahad

Date: 2012-06-05 20:48 EST
Khosro whined when he should have sniveled, simpered when he should have begged and begged when he should have panhandled. But the man knew his role well. A beggar, by day, with his very own alley in the further reaches of the Marketplace.

The stories told never varied on where, but what, he had become during all the mass murders. A true survivor. A madman. A prophet. The powerful often waged war for no other reason but chaos. And Khosro benefited from being too greasy to grasp.

An empty smile, always offered amongst still pink gums, even if he had earned himself row after row of gold teeth through the years. It was easier to keep up the image, along with the stink and ragged clothes. The Ranger had a habit of just appearing. The sun cast tall shadows, and with the camouflaging cloak's hood drawn up to conceal his face, today was no different.

"Silver fo' yo' thoughtsth Ranger." Khosro lisped through a nearly empty top row of teeth when he recognized the mass of moving colors.

"Need to hear more about the slaversth and where, and wot they be moving?" The beggar's nose had been broken too many times, but it was still too long. And too thin.

"Or y' come to hear fairy tales of a green haired nymph maiden fair, and wot bed she be warming tonight?" Tufts of salt and pepper hair still somehow clung to his nearly naked scalp that moved when he raised and lowered his eyebrows. The Ranger's cloak swirled a tumult of color that settled on the rust brick pattern of the wall behind him.

"Or wot about little exotic slave girlsth and their freedom' Ya find out that ya pay a price, two times for breaking down those walls" The alleyway wall moved forward and Khosro stepped backward.

"Either way gon' cost ya." A silver floated from the moving bit of wall to Khosro's palm and the Ranger's voice rasped.

"Where are they?" The days had bled into weeks and months without uttering more than a whisper or a whistle. Hawk cleared his throat and tried again before the beggar could begin to babble.

"The people. On the road. Outside of Rhy'din. Cadentia. The other towns. The other Inns. The other taverns." The wall loomed over Khosro now. And a bit of shadow, where Hawk's face was hooded.

Khosro had survived out of necessity. What the other beggars and street dwellers learned Khosro quickly acquired. An unsuspecting network of eyes and ears that watched and profited from being forgettable. The ugly, mundane, and not so magical were almost invisible. But they heard everything.

Khosro fumbled awkwardly with the coin and it fell loudly to the stones. "Wh-wh-wh.." He started and backed up further. "Some answers ya not gon' want Ranger." He didn't dare take his eyes off the Ranger, but a look of terror, not intended for the man he spoke to, crossed his overly aged features.

"Where?" The rasp of the Ranger's voice sliced stark, and punctured that pregnant pause.

"Ya rub elbows with all thems that's beautiful and powerful Ranger." It was the first time Hawk had seen the beggar nervous but the man trembled. "Me and my little birds can't sing this one. If we had that power we wouldn't' be selling songs to forest men, now, would we?"

Another silver, this time dropped, and rolled at the beggar's feet to join the other.

"You find yourself someone that understandsth. Rumor has it those types becomin" more and more rare by the day. But there's always a tale or two about a one that can look into glass or another that can find the answers in her stew." A third silver glinted. But this one struck Khosro square in his sternum, spinning quickly on its side.

"That stingsth!" Even before the coin could join its two brothers on the ground, Khosro lifted his palm and it disappeared. "Ya want to seek out one who name I can't remember and don't want to know. He's almost like you except he wears robes instead. They called him wizard back before people started walking around talking into those little things and swearing they hear voices on the other end. He shouldn't be too hard to find."

"Ya" don't tell him I sent you. And I don't know where he is so you don't bother askin" me." The oddity that was the wall, road, and sunlight slid away and moved toward the alley's mouth. "You hear me Ranger?? Khosro stooped to gather his coins then looked to where the hovering hood of shadow had been. But the Ranger was gone.

Hawk Jahad

Date: 2012-06-06 01:34 EST
"Where have you gone our little bird?"

Deftly the strings were plucked with bare fingers brandishing long, sharp, natural nails. Hands that had seen too much work for the delicate voice that sang each note.

"Where will you go' And have you heard?"

As a tender mercy for all those who saw her, Shireen still wore the little bit of thin cloth wrapped round her head, beneath her hair, and over where her eyes had been.

"That the ones who need saving the most, are the ones who you will pay the highest cost. Do you see and do you smell" The winds of change you've known so well?"

The last note reverberated through the hollowed, wooden body and died. She played for no one in particular, even in the dark. She played for the ghosts of tales told and still to be recorded.

She played for no one.

Another song struck, but stopped when she hissed like a rabid cat.

"Twice you have taken me and saved me from service, Champion. For the first time I was born and the second. Twice to live now two lives you save. But death is all I can taste when you are around. Death and pain. You walk when other men would weep. That mark, and the others hurt more than you will ever let on. Do not make that face, you know it to be true."

Tanned, toned, and tall. She had been given as a gift from a tribe of warrior women for safe passage through lands long conquered by slavers. A child with a talent of Sight, and much stronger than any who came before her. An offering of peace, to end the wars waged when the Lord that had enslaved them both wished a prize from a peoples as beautiful as they were fierce.

Hawk loomed in the darkness, the shadows gathering around him to take life in the cloak draped about his broad shoulders, leaving the note to resound in the hollow dark.

"Shireen." Pointless to bow, but he did.

"You bow before me yet it is I who should go prostrate. But don't ask me to kiss those filthy boots Champion." She winked instead with her body. After all the years, and childbirth, her genetics never failed her.

"How is your daughter?"

She strummed a chord and it resonated hopeful, like the warm spring breeze that oft times made his cloak uncomfortable.

"Living for the life I could not. And her mother to guide her gift so she can live normally. She goes to school. With all the other children. Two lives Champion. And another reborn through her." She strummed another uplifting chord.

It seemed like ages had passed to this point but, they had served together. Hawk in the arenas and Shireeb as Seer. Until the child Seer told a fortune of an arena champion borne from the sand, whose hand would end an empire's reign.

For that they took her eyes.

In return for kindness paid, Hawk had spirited her to Rhy'din, to be raised by those who could help her hone her gift. In the decade that had passed she had grown from gangly girl into a woman whose height rivaled his, and given birth to a child who also bore the talent.

"I need you to tell me?" He started as gentle as he could. The Seer always made comments that made him blush. From the time he left her a girl barely in her teens, to the times he visited her as the woman she so looked like now. Her hero. Her Champion. A time or two she cursed her gift for always killing her most closely held hopes and dreams. She saw Hawk with many while she mooned. But never saw her. Each visit became more bittersweet. What was there to hope for when all you saw was the future"

"You always need Champion. Need me to tell you. Need me to predict. The sun haired one you knew and still persisted. So I didn't say anything with the green haired one though you asked and listened to her fortunes. You did not even bother with the last. What more can I tell you? That dark haze and the death at the end. Always death. By blade or by break but death. Too early. And all that will be left will be the songs of a blind woman who sees better than most, and her daughter who knows you as a guardian angel. And she will cry the tears I cannot." Just two strings plucked now, no chord, and no resonation for her finger barred the neck and stopped the note as punctuation to her tune.

All he did was draw breath and listen. Paying rapt attention. Sometimes in the songs and riddles Shireen sang were all the answers. But he only found them when there were no more questions. Only found the answers when he already knew what they meant.

"You will seek and you will find. What you find you will not want. What you want you will not find. Never answers. No." The start of a bittersweet tune twisted with a twinge of her fingers. "Just more questions. Which is my benefit. Even with all the new scars you wear you are still pretty to See. Yes."

"Thank you." Solemn, and reverent. As he always was, and as he always would be when she spoke.

She put the guitar aside and stood. Fiery hair fell over the cloth that concealed her empty eye sockets. "Green." She said when she pulled the Ranger into an embrace. "They were green. But you should not feel more guilt for forgetting. You will always be my Champion." Before she let go she pressed a kiss to his cheek, just by his ear.

"She has hair like mine." A whispered song for another riddle.

"Pay the price, Champion.?

Hawk Jahad

Date: 2012-08-03 03:02 EST
The tides turned tumultuous and tempestuous in a land where the powerful often wrought their frustrations on the weather. Worse, when orbiting the night sky were two moons. It was why Rhy'din had so many seafarers and pirates of acclaim.

It was why so many were often lost at sea.

"Ranger like yuirself cannae be away from th' forests f" long." Another captain, on the docks, never far from his ship. This one's stink was more tolerable than the others. Especially to Hawk's sharp senses.

"I only ask for passage, Captain Seastone. In return I will work where you need me. This is not the first time I have seen a ship or worked on one to gain passage. I am sure it will not be the last either. I have done many things on ships before and have many skills your other crew may value."

"Ya ent be s" salty as I prefer em' boy. The ground too much in y' boots f" m' tastes. What if"n I come t' rely on y' out there during a drastic gale or a tidal swell" Then I could never replace y". Y' love th' land too much t' join my crew. But I could give y' passage f" a fee." Knotted facial hair gathered at the man's almost rotted mouth. Caked in white sea salt from the spray. His eyes gleamed greedy.

Hawk nodded. "I could pay you what you want. But I would need to know your destination first. Where do you do your trading?"

The Captain's face darkened considerably and he knotted more strands of beard. "Y' ask too many questions Ranger. All y' need t' be concerned wit' is where y' going. Name y' destination and I'll tell y' if that's where we headin"."

"Hrothram. The island."

The Captain's face painted portraits of confusion. "Ent neva heard uv et. Y' wan' t' travel on me ship y' gawt t' have a destination I can take y' to."

Ever etched with that delicate sculptor's touch, the Ranger's face didn't shift nor change expression. But the sudden swiftness, the urgency with which he moved to the unrolled map, his body language spoke volumes. "There is an island, off the coast, south by south west. Small. Lush. A young elf healer runs an academy for others of her trade." His finger pointed, but beneath the pad was just ocean. A cartographic error.

There was no way. The winters only numbered six since. He had its exact coordinates memorized for when he had needed to return. Even though the last time he had been on its shores he had no need to return any longer.

"Neva heard uv et Ranger. And I've sailed t' everywhere that touches th' ocean. And sometimes down rivers I shouldn't "ave. And this map be tha most recent and most advanced. Bought it from a strange man who said they gawt a camera in tha sky, takin pictures uv th' entire planet. It ent neva failed me. Y' island don't exist."

"Now if y' done talkin" business I gawt t' see about replacin" the rest a my crew wit' real sailors." Gnarled hands rolled the map back up quicker than the Ranger could examine it any longer.

But there was one thing he was absolutely certain of.

There were no other destinations marked for ports of call aside from Rhy'din's shores.