Oddities (Sadahl)

[Warden Thrice]

Spring 3rd, 512 AV It was quiet, far quieter than it had any right to be. The man darted through the streets, surrounded on all sides by structures that had been broken and mangled by the carnage that had passed through two days prior. His clothes, though well-made, were showing obvious wear. They were smeared with dirt and mud and the edges were frayed, but he didn’t care. They were still good clothes. They wouldn’t fall apart on him. Yet. The ankle-deep water made no sound at his passing, for his steps were too slow. He glanced back and forth between the ruins, clutching something to his chest with hands that trembled in shock. It was wet and slimy, with coloring that lay between black and green without truly becoming either. It was flat but half-folded, covered with straps and cuts too even to be incidental. If looked at for long enough, one would come to a startling conclusion that it was, in fact, a saddle of some sort. His eyes were wide and had stopped hurting long ago. He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel, and he didn’t want to. Something great had disappeared from within him, leaving a gaping void that consumed all thought before it could fly. He was a shell around emptiness, not yet ready to face the true gravity of what had happened. He began to see other people. It was gradual at first, only one or two at a time, but soon the streets were crowded with those that had nowhere else to go. Everyone was so bedraggled and desperate that no one gave him a second glanced when he ducked into an alley. He hadn’t been given a thorough tour of the University campus, but he had a basic idea. He emerged into the deserted courtyard in front of a large building that looked unnervingly similar to a fancy prison, block-like and covered with uniformly placed windows. The Living Quarters. He had been told of his quarters when he had signed up for classes. He was assigned to room 321, and would be sharing it with a roommate. Now was as good a time as any to move in. Unsurprisingly, he met no one on his way to his room. It was on the third floor, with a simple wooden door made of a rich and dark wood that Eorar couldn’t identify. There was no reason to postpone anything, so he took a deep breath, then opened it.