Closed [Beds and Boxes] A word to the wise (Kaitanu)

Tim and Kaitanu meet for one last time.

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This lazy agricultural settlement rests on the swampy shores of the Middle Suvan at the delta of The Kenash River. The River's slow moving bayou waters have bred a different sort of people - rugged, cultured, and somewhat violent. Sprawling plantations of tobacco and cotton grow on the outskirts of the swamp in the rich Cyphrus soils, while the city itself curls around the bayou and spawns decadence and sins of all sorts. Life is slower in Kenash, but the lack of pace is made up for in the excesses of food and flesh in a city where drinking, debauchery, gambling, slavery, and overbearing plantation families dominate the landscape.

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[Beds and Boxes] A word to the wise (Kaitanu)

Postby Timothy Mered on February 22nd, 2016, 5:02 am

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He gave up. The moment he heard the chisel clatter to the floor, he knew Kaitanu could not give him what he sought. But worse than the darkness that had seized hold of his mind was the sudden pang shooting up through his gut. He’d asked a terrible, terrible thing of Kaitanu. He’d burdened the poor, pale slave with his own fate. And above all, he’d been selfish, seeking just a solution for himself. These thoughts did not come to him fully formed, but they could be felt. The pity he’d felt for himself he now felt for Kaitanu who was in just as hopeless a situation as he.

Kaitanu’s voice betrayed fear and shame. He could see it in the pale slave’s face too. The slight reddening of the cheeks, the hesitation in his voice. That tone of defeat.

Sucking in a ragged, deep breath, Timothy struggled to speak. “You’re right. You’re a coward.” He gazed up at his only friend with bleary eyes. “But so am I,” he whispered. “I can’t do it. You can’t either. We have to keep going.”

No sooner than he’d spelled out their fate, the door to the workshop swung open. Sander’s thunderous gaze swept across the room. Timothy’s heart skipped a beat. He feared Sander had come to chase Kaitanu out of the shop. Instead, the clerk’s stoic expression broke.

“I think of it too sometimes,” he muttered, almost inaudibly. Timothy was rendered utterly speechless. Sander rarely spoke, and he had never before opened up in the way he did now. Had he been eavesdropping? There was a seriousness in his voice that betrayed honesty.

Leaning against the door post, arms crossed over his chest, Sander continued. “At the end of the day, it doesn’t really solve anything. Someone’s gonna replace me after all. As long as I am here, that someone isn’t yet needed.” He shot a glance at Kaitanu before stepping over to Timothy and giving him a brotherly pat on the back. “It’s not much solace, I know. But by being here, someone else remains free. And perhaps in another life, the favor will be returned.”

Timothy dried his eyes with his sleeves as Sanders began to steer him out of the workshop. “Jed might be here soon,” he warned the pale slave. “If I could grant you more time I would, but I can’t. I suggest you leave.”
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Timothy Mered
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