Flashback Stealing Home

[Dariel]

On the road to Lhavit 61st Day of Fall, 512 AV They were on their own now. It was never spoken about, but deep down inside both of the young men felt uneasy. A few days back they had parted ways with their companions out of Alvadas, a pair of Symenestra, each with a human companion. Six was already a daring number to brave the mountains with, but the Symenestra Devishar had been a devastating archer who'd also kept their bellies full. While it was a queer thought to feel less safe without a Symenestra, any Symenestra, around it was true in their case. Not that they were altogether helpless now. Both lads were strapping in their own way, both tall and hale. And they were a well-coordinated team the both of them. They had been training and studying together for a decade now. They knew their roles and that of the other: Dariel, the only slightly shorter but much heavier of the two, was the point man. His Shielding Magics kept them both alive and his mace was a slow but devastating weapon. Szender, the leaner one with the deathly pallor, was the duo's eyes and ears... and also their brain. He'd tell Dariel what needed to be done and when and used his glaive to exploit the enemy's weak spot from the second rank. At least that was the theory. It worked well enough when fighting human opponents, too. But their first lone run-in with the wilderness had proved otherwise. Luckily, Szender's cloak had been the cat-beast's only real victim but they both knew that had had more to do with luck than skill on their part. They'd had less luck when they tried to salvage the beast's flesh to have more to eat than the hard tack and cheese they both carried. Instead they learned what a gall bladder was the hard way. Once Szender's knife had cut into it, the ichor had rendered the meat inedible. Still, they had reason enough to be hopeful. Fall had been gentle so far. Even though it rained every day now, and always during the same few afternoon bells, the temperatures were still warm enough for them not to mind their clothes soaking through. Their tinder was stowed in a sheep's bladder anyway and there were enough leaves about to start a rudimentary if chokingly smoky fire even with moist branches. It also helped that Dariel, who hailed from these parts -whereas Szender only knew that their master had found him in an orphanage in Syliras and little else of the world beyond the ports along the Suvan Sea- claimed that the final ascent to Lhavit would be around the next corner, bend, turn. Of course it never was. He'd been ten years absent after all, but even though he knew it was folly, his hope always rubbed off on Szender. Every time the only thing they found after a turn was more rust bespeckling leaves and more packed dirt and gravel leading further up the mountain however, the roles reversed. Dariel's shoulders would droop even as he swore,"I bet it's beyond the next one!" Szender always indulged him even as he made light of the whole issue. "And if not Lhavit then maybe a cozy little whorehouse, or at least a cottage full of wanton farmer's daughters." he'd joke, even if there was no laughter ringing along with his voice. Not that Dariel needed to hear the laughter. Their bond was a strong one. They took care of each other. Each in his own way. Faithful unyielding Dariel won their fights... vicious cold-blooded Szender won their wars. If they'd been compatible, Dariel thought, maybe they'd been lovers. But one look at Szender was all it took to reveal that thought for folly. He had always looked out for Dariel, yes, and he still continued to do so. But he couldn't tell why. Szender usually had a plan, an ulterior motive, he'd learned. He might feel something under that icy mask he called a face, yes, but if he did it didn't influence his actions. Much as Dariel wanted him to, Szender didn't love him, in no sense of the word. Maybe the boy who had called them the Dog and its Master had it right all along. Even if that boy came to a very sticky end, and very soon after -- or maybe just because of that.

[Dariel]

"It's carrion!" Dariel exclaimed. Szender regarded him with the bothered boredom due someone who just emphatically stated the obvious. "If the crows can eat it, so can we." That was his reply. Pragmatic to a fault. To Szender it was irrelevant that the animal had been dead for days now. He'd cut off the shiny bits and devour everything else, even if it was as dry as only jerky was supposed to get. The alternative was even harder bread. This time he was more careful with his knife, taking his time to cut the meat slice by slice. From the shoulder, from the leg, from the flanks on the underside where the crows had not yet gotten to. Mere muscle meat. All the choice bits were long gone, but it would keep them strong for a few more days; two if they were extravagant about it, five if they tempered themselves. After taking a bite off the first slice, tough and raw as it was, he passed it on to Dariel. The bigger boy refused at first, but when he saw his companion did not turn green and keel over, he became more amenable to the idea. Soon he'd wolf down what he could get his hands on. Water was one of the few things they had in abundance. Water and time. Even if Winter fell over night, they'd be close enough to Lhavit to make it. Dariel still expected the Amaranthine Gate to rise beyond the next bend. The higher they came, the more likely it was that hope came through. All he had to do was keep the faith. Once more he looked at and to Szender. He didn't need faith. He just needed to breathe. He'd do or die trying. Sometimes Dariel wondered if his friend thought at all or if he simply had a plan for everything already. Maybe that little double blink he did was just the time it took to find that plan in his memory. After a while, Szender looked back. "We should build a fire tonight and see if we can prepare any of this in a meaningful way." Just because he accepted gnawing on carrion didn't mean he couldn't want for better food, but then who wouldn't have in their situation? Once he'd said it, it had been decided. Dariel rarely opposed him, especially since the paler boy tended to be right more often than not. Szender for his part finished slicing off as much meat as he could identify as worthwhile and wrapped it in a leather cap he'd looted off the corpse of an unlucky woodsman along with the boots he wore. They'd passed the corpse shortly before splitting with the Symenestra. Even more proof of how lucky they were so far. Forging ahead, the young men each collected an armful of dead wood and come nightfall their fire was luxurious. The meat didn't get much better by being held into a fire but it felt cleaner for it. Dariel had identified two local plants that contained enough oil to actually make this meal passable, even if oddly sweet. They chewed and swallowed in silence that night. Szender took the first watch, nestling into the low branches of some conifer tree he'd never seen before. It never occurred to Dariel that he'd been left out in the firelight as bait for anyone and anything that should come across their little camp. Though he pribably wouldn't even have cared. But once again they were in luck. Eventually, Szender woke his burly bait and bade him take over the next watch, remaining inside the prickly bivouac, idly wonder, "Remember when you taught me to count in Arumenic?" "Mhmmm." a sleepy Dariel replied while he was trying to wake up. "Listen then, see if I am doing it right." Szender commanded and continued,"Adjabh, Besser, Rahat..."

[Dariel]

Finally, they had definite signs that they were getting closer. The Diamond of Kalea was after all described as residing just above the clouds. Clouds that now hung so close above the two young men that it seemed they could catch one if they just jumped up. Of course, the ephemeral white was far more flighty than that, and its closeness a trick of the light. Still. Even cold calculating Szender was hopeful that their arrival in the Skyglass city could not be long now. Their spirits thus raised, they seemed to make good time. More and more often, attentive Szender would find evidence that they were closing in on civilization. Repairs to the road they trod, relatively fresh paint on the markers along the path and freshly made treestumps where someone had ventured far to cut wood. The final proof came in the form of an etched stone made from Skyglass by the roadside. City of Lhavit There was more to it, but Tanroa had taken her toll on the stone, and she was also probably the only one who still remembered that it stood here. Once upon a time it may have been intended to warn encroaching enemies or foolhardy settlers away. But for all the stories the Symenestra were peaceful and Alvadas preoccupied with its own madness. No invaders came, and any fool who may have dared settle out here left no signs of their passing. Silently, Szender nudged Dariel and gifted him with a rare smile. The bigger boy nodded back, emphatically, grinning from ear to ear. "Soon." Szender reaffirmed. "Soon!" Dariel agreed with unbridled enthusiasm. It had been their rousing call these last few days and nights. Barely any food left, boots and feet worn thin, Szender even more haggard than usual and even Dariel slowly showing his bones here and there. But all that would end. Soon. Szender's eyes went roaming for a tree by the wayside. They quickly found it, and even in a spot where it offered a view. Granted, the view was of the mountainside falling steep towards a winding riverlet that cut into the stone. But it was something else than more trees or, worse, gravel. Taking the cue from Szender, Dariel nodded his agreement. As always, Szender had picked a place with two trees close by each other. What followed was well-rehearsed ritual. They placed their things between them, then each turned to face their tree. It keps their things relatively safe and did the same for their backs. And it still afforded them the privacy they needed to relieve themselves. Which was of course the whole point of this exercise. As so many times before, they stood there in silence. Having finished his business, Dariel brought his garb to order, then wondered what his friend was up to, seeing as Szender had turned completely silent. Dariel, faithful loyal Dariel, moved to turn but never got far. He was stopped dead in his tracks by a hot pain kiss across his throat. From there, it jumped, driving into his lower back. Once, twice, again and again and again, spreading in waves across his body like the ripples from casting a stone into water. When he sought to cry out his astonishment, his mouth filled with blood instead of a voice.

[Dariel]

He returned to the earth from which he came. In one way or another. Crows and foxes, ants and maggots, they all would have their fill and what they left would fertilize the soil. What remained of the boy would become one with the mountains. Winter would come, and a piece of the boy whose only fault had been to be too loyal and too trusting would bloom in every flower and ripen in every fruit come spring and summer. But nobody would ever find him. The remains of what had once been the big friendly boy lay scattered over more than an acre's worth of land. Flesh stripped from bones and the bones themselves ground to chaff. Some of his clothes had been burned, others put to a better use, warming another body, even if they seemed a tad too big. More importantly, nobody would ever find him because nobody would ever look for him. The only people who would even care would have something else to console them, and there were only two of those to begin with. Well, three. But the third had held the knife that took his life. Catching him by surprise when his guard was down was the only way to circumvent his Shielding magics, his attacker knew. He'd also known to choose the time and place. Just far enough from Lhavit to avoid curious wanderers, woodcutters, beekeepers and the like yet close enough that the killer could find and make his way alone. The spot had been almost scenic, seemed safe and the nature of the business required an amount of relaxation that prevented the use of magics at the same time, at least for the inexperienced. But he hadn't gone down easy. With a cut throat and several stab wounds in his back he'd managed to turn around and grab his attacker despite the surprise to see the man he thought his friend holding the knife. He'd grabbed him and despite the fact that his life drained from a dozen holes he had the strength of a dying man. For once in his life the otherwise so quaint and placid boy, the dog, fought for something all his own. He pushed and his assailant gave way, both forgetful of the environment. They toppled, went over the edge of the little balcony they'd been on. They went down the ravine but only one saw its bottom. It had been too little, too late. Only the pale, slender boy rose from their fall. As soon as he stood solidly, he limped over to the corpse of his longtime companion. He had gone over this so many times. Pilfer the body, strip it, butcher it. His fingers did the work while his mind sorted through the impressions. He felt no regret. Dariel had wasted his life being other people's tool. He'd let him use him since they'd been little boys. Now he'd given him the last thing he had to offer. His life. All of it. The boy who was now Dariel now had a family, a place where he would be safe, a nest he would soon make his way into. Like a cuckoo. And more. Not just that he had literally cut all ties to his past, anyone who could betray him in case old enemies were still looking. He'd be a Lhavitian by birth, though long absent thus explaning his ignorance. He'd weathered a freak storm that could explain away everything else. Not that he would offer explanations. The easiest way to spot a liar was always to look for someone answering questions one had not asked. Excitement gripped a hold of the new Dariel. Excitement that even dulled the pain in his ankle. He felt free. He was free. The future lay up the mountain. He just had to go and seize it by the hair.