Till Death do us Part (Brandon Blackwing)

[Mirage]

7th of Spring, 515 AV

The night was not quite clear, Leth just partially peaking out through a thin layer of cloud that cast more darkness than shadow over the world. In many ways it was just like any other night at this time of the season, especially this season. For whatever reason or another the sky did not seem to wish to be fully cleared of obstruction, and the threat of rain seemed ever present though only on occasion did it actually deliver on its promise of a shower. Dull, dreary... Quite unlike spring at all really.

The mountains of Kalea stood tall and proud against a landscape that was speckled with some outcroppings of trees and the occasional patch of level ground. The wildlife was only just beginning to come from its deep slumber of winter, the rabbits and squirrels once more scurrying about with twitchy noses and wagging tails. The air in most of the region, should one take a moment to notice, was thinner than in other places about Mizahar and those that lived there learned how to live and adapt to the lower oxygen levels even on top of the snow tipped mountain caps. Kalea was a home for the strong, the hardy, and those with the will to survive. Those who tried to cross its landscape then, surely, had to be just as rugged and strong as the animals and environment itself.

"Help..." A voice called out near the base of one peak, a shout that was barely above normal talking level, "Please, someone help me..."

A man was fallen there, a hiker with a large bag resting halfway on one shoulder and various provisions and mountain climbing equipment laying scattered about from an obvious fall. Still connected to his waist was a rope that had snapped due to the cold and the weight of the man himself. He was a human, dark hair and eyes and a full beard that now had flecks of ice and spit in it. His left leg was twisted back at an odd angle, blood soaking through his outer shirt as his breaths came in labored gasps.

"Please help me..."

His climbing ax had pierced his side, and from this came the flow of blood that was beginning to sap his strength. Were it not for the lingering winter cold he may have perspired not long before.

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

Nights such as these were the worst. Or that was Brandon’s opinion anyway. Whether Leth chose to hide or not, it didn’t really matter all that much to the bat, as long as he could stare at the dark clouds outlined against the dark sky. Something was different now though, it was maybe a bit darker than usual, yes, but it was the feel of the air itself that made the Kelvic dislike this particular type of weather in general. It was as if the heavens themselves didn’t quite know what to bring to the denizens of the surface -rain, clouds, fog?- and just had settled with some kind of twilight zone. The air was kind of heavy with moisture, and yet it wasn’t fog or rain, and the clouds weren’t thick and fluffy either. No giant grey titans that brought storms, but a dull blanket that stretched from one corner of the world to the next.

Maybe the only good thing about it was that it didn’t actually rain. Rain would mean disturbance of his echolocation and that never was a good thing. His sense of depth would be greatly affected by rain, and the constant noise was just distracting, drowning the sounds of bugs. Bats didn’t fly during rainy nights, just like people didn’t breathe water when washing their faces. It was common sense; water made it harder to fly. Brandon wouldn’t try to either, even if it would cost him a day of travel. Whether Wind Reach was close by or still far of mattered little, he was tired and hungry. Exhaustion from having spent around seven nights flying was starting to build up, and he was starting to think he might have been better off in Lhavit. True, they were probably looking for him for murder, kidnapping and theft. In normal circumstances, Brandon would just have laid low and waited until the Shinya gave up, or at least stopped searching actively, but it hadn’t been a normal situation. Alses with her Auristics could identify him with ease, and the thief had had no desire to let her.

Still, the longer he flew, the more days passed by, the more Brandon believed he might have made a mistake. He might have underestimated the distance between Lhavit and Wind Reach, he might have overestimated Alses’ desire to have him locked up and bound in chains. Well, he’d been in a bit of a panic, he had to admit it. One didn’t simply kill a wealthy merchant and didn’t lament their impulsive actions. But what could he have done? It wouldn’t have taken Kriegsfelt a day to realize that Alses was still alive and kicking. Brandon didn’t even have to guess what he’d do in response to the bat’s failure –or more accurate, his betrayal. Engghaen’s life would be taken, without a doubt. True, he hadn’t been able to find out whether the assassins were a bluff or not, but Bran hadn’t found it worth the risk. Kill Kriegsfelt and he won’t be able to give them any orders, he’d thought, and he’d acted accordingly. A life for a life, it was a fair trade. Even more so, now he thought about it; Kriegsfelt had gotten people murdered just to put some more pressure on the people he’d employed. A fair trade indeed.

It took a while, but flying not all that high today, hoping he could snatch some bugs out of the air, the thief’s ears caught wind of something else than buzzing; a voice. His ears were sensitive and many times more accurate than they were in human form –and those were already very impressive to humans- and while it didn’t reach him any louder than a whisper, it was clear enough. A call for help. At first, the bat thought it be better to ignore it and just keep flying, the painful tone of the voice not his concern, but his reasonable side dismissed the idea. People in these parts of the Unforgiving were not common, and had to be travelers. Fools no doubt, but still –wait, what did that make him? Travelers had food, rations and perhaps if he came to this one’s aid he might be rewarded with some. Obviously it was an opportunity the thief couldn’t pass up on.

With the voice as his guide, the bat searched for the man, the source of the sound. Finding him proved not all that hard, but it still took some time. At the base of a peak, Brandon landed softly, shifting in a flash and keeping his now human body close to the ground. True, sneaking wouldn’t help one bit if there were wolves or so about, not with the wind blowing and carrying his scent with it. But it wasn’t only because of the possibility of danger; it was cold, and the Kelvic wanted to make himself as small as possible. Crouching slowly, carefully placing his feet the thief snuck closer, until he was right next to the man.

Brandon quietly assessed the situation the man was in, grabbing one of the provisions that was nearby as he did so. Twisted leg, broken, without a doubt. One didn’t have to be a doctor to know that no limb could make such an angle without extra joints or splintered bones. He was wearing a bloodied shirt and an ax was stuck in his side. The thief never touched him, nor did he react to what the man might have said or done, not until he was done with his observation. He sighed.

“How much does it hurt? Can I eat this?” he spoke, holding up some dried jerky. A strange follow-up question to ask in a situation such as this, but well, Brandon was hungry and would eat it regardless of the answer. “I’ll be honest, I know very little of medicine. My skill extends to bandaging wounds but that’s it. I can do no more than that. However, I can help you. I can try.” He tore a piece of the jerky with his teeth and started chewing, looking thoughtful. “How long have you been lying here? A bell? A couple chimes?” Another bite. “Never mind, I suppose it matters little, in your condition you won’t make it to Wind Reach or Lhavit… or wherever you were planning on going.”

The bat shivered, the cold was getting to him. Morwen hadn’t entirely left Kalea yet, it seemed. A couple steps brought him to the backpack and he carefully started rummaging through the stuff, hoping to find a cloak or a coat of some sort. “I told you I’d be honest, and I will. Regardless of what I do, the outcome will be unaffected. You’ll die, except some miraculous event occurs.” A grin, a somber grin. “So, you have two options; I can either prolong your pain, or end it quickly. The choice is yours of course.” Brandon was somehow surprised he could be so calm and speak so… matter-of-factly. Then again, he’d seen death, he’d delivered death. This time he wasn’t the cause, and death had always been part of life, especially so in unforgiving places such as this. Nature was hard on its denizens, and many died so others could live on. It’s the way of the world, the thief mused, his hands still busy in the bag.

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Mirage]

c
When Brandon spoke the man jumped, groaning after the fact as the movement made the wound in his side spurt a bit more red life. Turning his head in the Kelvic's direction the man just opened and closed his mouth a couple of times to the first question, but after a tick he shook his head and growled (or whimpered more like), "Y-yeah, take it its yours." Not that he could say much now that the Kelvic had already bitten into it.

Stifling another grown he shifted his weight somewhat onto his other hip, careful not to move the thing buried in his side to much, "It's only been a few chimes I think... it hurts like a bitch in heat. Look you gotta help me." He coughed, shivering as well as he looked at Brandon up and down, "The petch I'll let you end anything for me. You said you can bandage me up right? I am not going to Lhavit or any other city near here. I just need to get over there."

He pointed to a patch of tall trees about a quarter mile to the east, "I just have to get there. It's not my time yet, just get me there please."

His voice was desperate and pleading, but his eyes were clear and focused despite the pain. It was not clear whether he would live long enough to make it all the way, but with the cold and the pressure of the pick in his side the blood flow was not as strong as it could have been. The man continued to point, looking at Brandon as his only hope.
c

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

Brandon followed the man's finger with his glare, staring at the patch of trees he was pointing to. The hiker had said he wasn't going to Lhavit or any other nearby city, but he did want to get to a rather specific place in the Unforgiving. “Why do you want to go there of all places?” the bat muttered under his breath, it was more a grumble than a question. When he'd completed his observations on the state the hiker had been in, he had thought he could end this quickly and be on his way. Of course, he had not taken the human nature into account. The man didn't want to die, and even though his death was possibly almost upon him, he clung to life. He wasn't ready yet, even though Dira probably had her hand on his shoulder already.

The hiker needed some extra time, he needed to prepare himself and accept what was to come, Brandon was positive that there was no escaping death for the fellow. His leg was broken; he couldn't stand. An ax was stuck in his side and drawing blood; not a wound that damaged vital organs, but there was a chance of him bleeding out. This didn't look like a minor laceration, it was pretty deep and serious. However, Brandon wasn't the kind of person to make decisions of life and death. It wasn't his own life, but the hiker's. As such, the hiker was the one who had to make the decision of whether he wanted to end it or not. He'd chosen the latter.

“Prolonging your life it is,” the bat stated with a sigh, having decided this probably was some sort of last wish, even though there was one to come still. The hiker hadn't given up on fighting his fate yet, he hadn't accepted his coming death, and he wasn't making any last wishes. It was a request, and Brandon planned on doing his best to fulfill it; after all, it might just help the man in embracing his end, at least a little. “Heh, I'd probably have said the same thing, if it had been me,” Brandon spoke honestly, believing that talking might help the man too. Not just to distract him from what was to come, but also from the ax Brandon would have to pull out of his side.

The thief's rummaging had rewarded him with a woolen shirt and pants, which Brandon put on to aid in warding off the cold a little bit, and a roll of bandages, along with some liquid that smelled strongly like alcohol, but not the drinking kind. Hm, hadn't some of the doctors of the Catholicon said something about cleaning wounds with alcohol? He'd been there a couple times when he'd sustained injuries from glass windows, bad falls and some other things. Was it worth cleaning the wound though? There was little doubt the man would die soon, so it might be a waste... but to hell with that, it wasn't like he could take it with him, not in bat form. Talk Brandon, talk to him. Distract him.

“So,” the bat spoke, his hand almost gripping the handle of the ax, then retreating to tear a length of cloth from the man's shirt first, getting a good look at the wound soiling the bare flesh. “What are you doing here anyway? Are you trying to brave the Unforgiving on foot?” His hands folded the piece of cloth a couple times, forming a thick cushion of sorts. Then his hand returned to the ax. “I've never heard of anyone succeeding in doing that. It's called the Unforgiving for a reason, you know. But-” he pulled the climbing tool out of the flesh with a quick motion, using his other hand to press the cushion onto the wound, “that doesn't really provide any answers. If you're not trying to get to any city, then what are you doing here? -Hold this would you?” Brandon grabbed one of the man's hands and pressed it onto the cushion of fabric, then tore off a larger bit of cloth from the man's shirt and folded it into another small pillow. Then his hands took hold of the bottle of alcohol and brought it to the wound, uncorked. “Don't tell me you're actually living around here? Is that why you want to go over there? Is there some sort of cabin there? This'll sting.” He didn't really expect any answers, and removed the hand and the cloth, now pouring some of the alcohol on the laceration and then pressed the bloody fabric back on the flesh, the hand on top of it.

Next, the bat gently pushed the man into a sitting position, moving the backpack so the hiker had something to lean against. “I can't bandage your torso if you're lying,” he explained, “And that's a difficult area to bandage to boot.” Nevertheless, the bat got started right away, removing the old cloth and replacing it with a newer one, then applying some bandages on top of it, once more telling the hiker to hold it in place. Then, Brandon started swathing the man's torso, tight enough so it wouldn't fall of, but not too tight so he could still move. Of course, every so often the bat had to go over the shoulder as well, as to make sure it would stay in place. It took a while, and was by no means professional, but eventually the bat was done. The fact that the hiker had still been wearing his coat hadn't made things easier. Brandon just hoped that the cloth cushion would do its job and apply enough pressure to slow down the blood flow for a bit longer.

“Right, now to get you to that patch of trees...” After a bit of consideration, the Kelvic stuffed all provisions and rope into the backpack and swung it over his shoulders, then helping the hiker to his feet, using his own body as support. One of the man's arms was draped over his shoulders, while one of Brandon's own had gone around the man's back and ended under the man's arm. Of course, since the bat was playing crutch, the hiker's broken leg was between the two men. Then, they started walking, Brandon adapted and adopted the hiker's limping pace, not wanting to exhaust the man any more if he could help it. They probably wouldn't make it to the patch of trees otherwise, but now they might have a chance. It wasn't that far, but still, the hiker was rather heavy, and Brandon wasn't really in top condition either. He just hoped they wouldn't run into a pack of wolves or other dangerous animals. As there was a fair chance of the man passing away during the walk, Brandon did his best to try and comfort the man, telling him he was going to Wind Reach, that he had rather high hopes for the city, and sharing the rumors he'd heard about the place and its citizens. Also did the bat try subtly to urge the hiker to tell him his own story, and attempted to determine whether the man regretted any choices he'd made in his life by questioning him. And of course every so often the thief asked how the man was feeling, if it hurt to be walking.

OOCI assumed it was very likely a hiker would have an extra set of clothes and first aid stuff with him, but if you disagree and want me to edit it, please tell me

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Mirage]

c
A groan that descended into a whimper escaped the large man's lips as the pickax was removed and blood began to flow freely forth. His breathing was ragged and uneven, but for his worth he gritted his teeth and bore it all without complaint even as he lost a little more color in his cheeks.

"No one travels the Unforgiven without reason. You know that *groan* as well as I do." he said as Bradon began padding his wounds. He sucked in a sharp breath of cold air when the stinging alcohol hit his skin, closing his eyes against the pain and sudden rush of dizziness. After a few tick, and a few more deep breaths, he managed to get his mind and lungs back under control enough to speak, "You ask a lot of questions I don't want to answer. No I don't live here, who the petch would choose to? And I got to reach those trees because there is something in there I have got to see."

He coughed as his lungs spasmed and red was quickly showing through the now freshly wrapped cloth. The man tried his best to take as much of his own weight as possible, but of course in his condition it was nearly impossible and his twisted leg was not making it any easier.

"My... my name is Biran. Biran Shackles from Alvadas." Biran's words were softer now, barely above a whisper as he conserved as much of his strength for walking, "Whats your name...?"

The trip was uneventful, but took more than a bell due to the uneven footing and steep slope they were on. The patch of trees was in a gully of sorts, surrounded on all sides by even steeper inclines that grew to become even larger mountains. It was isolated from much of the world, so for someone to come here it must have been with a good reason.

"If you get... get the chance to go to Alvadas..." He coughed and smirked, "Don't. It's a right awful place. Can't tell which way is up and nothing makes sense most days. It's a terrible place where your mind gets turned inside out." He was being mildly conversational, for the closer and closer they go to the tree line the more energy he seemed to get, or the more desperate he became. It was evident from his expression that he wanted to just reach the trees, at any cost.

When they finally came to the tree line Brian would limp to a stop, placing one hand on a nearby tree, looking into the darkness beyond with a smile that could be seen even through his beard.

"Thank you... I th-think I can make it from here. Take whatever you want from my pack. Food, mizas, whatever. I wont be needing it any longer." Glancing sideways at Brandon he patted the kelvic on the shoulder before pulling away from his human crutch, begining to make his way into the trees one hop at a time.
c

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

“Brandon,” the bat replied to the man's question. “My name is Brandon Blackwing.” During the bell that it took for the two men to reach the trees, there were times that Brandon didn't speak at all, having to catch his breath while pondering. Supporting the hiker's weight was a difficult task on its own, but the slope they were walking on made thing only more difficult. Brandon was in charge of making sure they didn't lose their balance, he had to make sure the man didn't fall, he had to keep him on his feet and drag him off. Even if he had been fit, it wouldn't have been pleasant, it wouldn't have been easy.

Needless to say, it was exhausting, and the weight started to make his shoulder and arms ache. The slow pace made his feet and thighs hurt and the rough underground wasn't comfortable to walk on. However, Brandon did his best to ignore it, to endure, every now and then attempting to clear his mind to stop feeling the aches and pains that plagued his body. Of course, it didn't really help, his focus was not deep enough, and meditation had never been Brandon's forte. Instead, he began to mull over the things Biran had said, eventually losing himself in his own mind, the lack of words floating in the air a great help.

Everyone had a reason to travel across the Unforgiving. That meant Biran had a reason too, and most likely, that patch of trees had something to do with it. He didn't know what, but he wanted to find out. Brandon was a curious person, and this had piqued his interest. Vague answers, and the statement that Biran did not want to answer most of his questions... it only served to increase the bat's curiosity, and he couldn't help but fantasize about what they would find between the trees. Something the hiker had to see. It could be anything, but what was so important that he wanted to reach it while it was obvious to everyone -and especially tot the hiker himself- that he was going to die soon. The thief couldn't come up with anything that seemed logical. Treasure wouldn't have been buried in this part of the Unforgiving, and the man had already said he didn't live here, so there shouldn't be a building either...

It took a bell, but it felt so much longer, and by the time they had actually reached the place, Brandon wasn't sure which one of them was more exhausted. He felt rather miserable, sore in just about every place, but of course there was no way Biran wouldn't be worse off than he was. The hiker had a broken leg and a serious wound in his side. However, while Brandon couldn't muster up the energy to speak, the hiker could, sharing some information on Alvadas, the place he had come from. A place where your mind was turned inside out? A place where nothing makes sense? Somehow that sounded familiar.. hadn't he heard of a city of Illusions before? Was it the same place? It seemed likely, but then again, he had never asked the name of that city, he could be wrong.

Biran led them to a nearby tree, and Brandon was happy to follow, and get some rest while the hiker leaned against the trunk. A sideways glance in his direction revealed a smile. Whatever was to be found here, it had to be important and valuable to the man, or so Brandon thought. Either way, the bat was rather glad they'd actually made it, he hadn't thought they would. Barin hadn't appeared to be able to endure such a taxing trip, but apparently the bat had been mistaken. Panting, the thief sucked in as much air as he could, sweating and trembling. When Barin let go of him and patted the thief on the shoulder, Brandon too started leaning against the tree, feeling hot even though the air was still as cold as ever.

Wait, what? What had Barin just said? He wouldn't need his pack anymore? Did that mean he was ready now? Had he accepted his imminent death? Hold it right there! Brandon wouldn't just let him walk away, he wouldn't let him just go die on his own! Petch this, he wouldn't be abandoned now! He wanted to see whatever it was Barin thought to find here too! He'd offered to help and he would, he'd stay until the end. There was no way the bat could walk away now, that wasn't his nature. He ended what he started, always. This too. Catching up took no time at all, since the Kelvic had two legs to walk with, and the hiker only one.

Once he caught up to Barin, Brandon once more took his position of crutch, supporting the hiker with a tired grin. “Like hell you can get away from me. My policy is to see things through when I lend my aid. Besides, I want to see what beckoned you here. And I haven't had human company in seven days,” he admitted. Not to mention that he had spent over a bell helping this guy, so staying a bit longer didn't matter anymore. He'd have to fly a bit more the coming days, yes, but whatever. He had some food now, he could get a bit of his strength back.

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Mirage]

c
Biran grunted in surprise as Brandon quickly came back to support his shoulder, his expression one of relief, bewilderment, and maybe just a hint of displeasure, "Really it's alright Brandon, you have done enough for me already." When the Kelvic showed no signs of submitting however Biran sighed and smiled with a shrug, "Alright alright, give me a hand just a little ways further. I appreciate what you are doing for me."

With that they would continue on into the forest at their former shuffling pace, though Biran seemed to grow more eager the farther they went. As far as forests go this one was not much different than any other. It had trees, and some vegetation, and the occasional bird that flitted from branch to branch. Nothing really stood out about it.

"I heard about this place when I was a small child barely old enough to tie my own shoes." The man would say without any prompting, all sign of fatigue gone from his expression as he was locked forward on their path, My grandmother was a Craven, but my mother left the trade and took my father's name. She is the one who first told me about this place, but it was not until much later that I learned about its significance."

They had not been walking for too long, but the difference in the atmosphere of the forest was changing dramatically. The closer they came to the center of the forest the quieter it became. Fewer and fewer signs of life were seen. The sounds of birds, or other woodland creatures grew softer and softer, and there was an odd chill in the air.

"It's not much further." Biran said, not seeming to notice the cold. Several chimes later they found themselves crossing some unseen barrier, for suddenly where once some signs of vegetative growth could be seen everything now became brown, shriveled or molding. The air now grew slightly warmer, though still there was a shiver in the air that set the hairs to raise and goose flesh to bud across the skin.

"It's holy ground you see Brandon. Few ever get to you know, and this one is special." The trees now looked older, their bark so dark that in the light they looked almost black as their branches hung down, their leafless limbs like hooked claws seeking to grasp at their necks and hair as they past. There was only a faint wind from the direction they were heading, and it brought with it a smell similar to rotting eggs. The trees almost seemed to part before them, unless one noticed that many trees had simply been torn from the ground and now lay on the sides, forming an oblong square around what was at the center of this makeshift clearing.

The ground in this area was complete free of snow. Not a single blade of grass or any vegetation would be seen at its edges, and at the very center was a large bubbling pool of what looked like greenish brown mud. The warmth and the smell all seemed to be coming from this mud vat, and at the sight of it Biran quickly shuffled forward, with or without Brandon, and began climbing over the fallen trees to get closer to the bubbling mud.
c

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

Biran's excuses were ignored completely, Brandon would not hear them. Instead, he just kept walking, supporting his charge wordlessly, and rather exited himself. A forest in the Unforgiving was not unheard of, but there was no way in Hai this particular one did not hold anything that held no value at all. Of course, Brandon did not mean material value; he couldn't carry anything with him during flight anyway, so he had no need of that. But emotional, sentimental value, maybe? There had to be something special about this place, if not to the world, then to the hiker. There had to be a reason for his stubborn request to be dragged here, and Brandon was intent on discovering what exactly.

Soon after the duo had started shuffling through the forest, the hiker started to speak, one of the rare times thus far he'd actually done so without having to be prodded and prompted by the curious bat. He kept it vague though, and the thief didn't really understand what he was talking about. Well, it added to the mystery and the bat's excitement, that was for sure. Though, that didn't mean he'd just refrain from asking questions. “A Craven, you say? I've never heard of such a thing... or group. What are they like? Do they do specific -special- things?” Truthfully, the thief had absolutely no idea what or who the Craven were, what they did or why they did whatever it was they were supposed to be doing. It was the first time in his short life he'd heard someone mention them, and needless to say, it did pique the bat's interest.

Yet, the mystery of the Craven was not the only one haunting the bat right now; he'd noticed a couple things since they'd started to head deeper into the special forest. For one, the deeper they went, the quieter things got. Birdsong became rare, and the noises made by small rodents scurrying about, or crickets chirping gradually faded, which was terribly strange. The air too got more and more chilly the longer they walked,, shivers occasionally traveling down the bat's spine, despite the warm clothes -the spares- he wore. Brandon reckoned the chill wasn't responsible for all of the shivers, not at all. There was something about this place, something that kept the other animals away, and Brandon's instincts were telling him the same; he should not be here.

However, curiosity killed the bat was an apt change brought to the popular idiom in this case. Instincts ringing the alarms or not, curiosity usually stood victorious after the battle in Brandon's mind. Not surprising, he was a being that mimicked humans after all, and as such he too had inherited some of their flaws. Part man, part beast; with all advantages and disadvantages included. And so, despite the warnings of his mind, telling him to turn back and follow the example of the other woodland creatures living in this forest, he continued playing his part as human crutch, although unnerved and feeling the cold sweat break out the farther they went.

“It's not much further. ” Well, maybe best it wasn't. Brandon didn't like this place at all; the chill -the unnatural sudden chill- reminded him of the time he'd encountered a ghost. An experience he'd rather not see repeated, and he had to reassure himself more than once it couldn't be a ghost, there wouldn't be a ghost. Damn, he wished he'd bought that charm that kept evil spirits away from that shady vendor... Or that he could have brought his cold iron blade. That would have helped, right? Right? The bat's breathing quickened a bit, and he grew rather pale as he saw the vegetation becoming shriveled and brown, or covered with mold. The place smelled of decay, and Brandon didn't like it one bit. This was not a good place to be, not at all.

There was too much death in the air for his liking; strange death too. This was surreal, otherworldly. Why – no, how- could there be a dead area in the midst of a teeming forest? Why at the center? And why wasn't there any sign of rebirth, of life? This was strange. This was wrong somehow. It didn't fit. This couldn't be part of the real world, now could it? No, no this couldn't be real. He must be dreaming. Yeah, yeah I get it. I collapsed because of exhaustion on the way. Now I'm having strange dreams. Yes, that must be it. It has to be! Although desperate his inner plea was, it didn't help one bit. It was too real to be a dream.

Neck hairs rose before all others did, goose bumps spreading over his body and not of the cold; the air was warmer here. No, it was this place. This place was dangerous. He did not want to be here anymore, not one tick longer. Not one tick. But at the same time he couldn't get himself to stop moving, nor could he speak the words “This is as far as I go.” It wasn't pride, it wasn't because he had said he'd see this through until the end. No, it was this place. It was strange, and so .. curious. He'd never seen anything like this before. Holy ground? Perhaps, but fascinating was a better word for the location. It was so terribly frightening a place that it became inviting, that it drew the bat closer. The feeling of walking into a trap of sorts, into his own demise was still ever present though.

Everything was wrong with this place. It just couldn't be natural. There was absolutely no life here, no sound but silence. The air was stained with the stink coming from that bubbling pool of mud, and the trees... The trees! Whether it was his imagination or not, they appeared to be hungry monstrosities, reaching out with a multitude of claws to tear his very soul away from his body. Biran was eager to close in on the pool of mud, and Brandon followed for a bit, then he refused to move a step when they reached the fallen trees. The hiker did not seem to mind though, clambering over one of the fallen logs, getting closer still. “If you fall in, I'm not going to dive in to save you,” the bat warned with a shaky and unstable voice, his throat and tongue dry. “I can't swim, you know...” The truth being what it is, it didn't take away that it was an excuse. That mud terrified the bat way more than the lack of life, and more than the creepy trees. There was probably a good reason why there were fallen logs barring immediate access to it; and for once, the bat had no intention to find out what reason. He'd rather not know. This forest was too much for his nerves; his eyes flitted around in a paranoid fashion, his hands fidgeted with themselves, one foot carrying his weight -ready to bolt. He'd stay until Biran had finished dying,then he'd leave... quickly.

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Mirage]

"This is it." Biran wheezed, crawling over the last and coming to stand shakily beside the pool, "At long last I found it. I found it." He was taking big, shuddering breaths, the red stain already spreading through the bandage but the man paid it no mind, "I did not dare to believe, to even hope... Brandon my friend, this is too much. I could never repay you for your kindness."

Still staring at the pool Biran began to remove his jacket, then the bandages before ripping out the pick axe from his side and tossing it away without even a hint of hesitation, "For 8 long years I have looked for this place, piecing together the map based on rumors and what useful scraps I could gain from my mother before she died." The shoes and pants came next, and it seemed that the dying man fully intended to meet his end complete nude and unashamed. When he removed his shirt Biran turned to look back at Brandon. The wound in his side was gory and deep, red seeping freely from it, but beyond that there was a very large vertical cut that traced from his pelvis all the way up to the bottom of his sternum. The incision still looked fresh, oozing a mixture of pussy infection and blood from in between black threads half hazard used to stitch the two sides of his gut back together.

"You don't have to worry Brandon. You don't need to save me. This place is sacred, special. It's power will save me from this mortal weakness." The last words he whispered, already looking away and taking his first few steps into the pool of mud. He sucked in a sharp breath when his feet first touched the muck, but continued in walking on what was apparently a steep slope as each step would bring the level of the mud higher and higher up his body. His eyes were closed, the mud bubbling furiously where it touched his skin as Biran began to submerge himself completely.

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

What? What?! Brandon couldn't believe what he'd just heard. He stood there, frozen as the hiker stepped into the mud and started submerging himself. This pool of mud would free him from his mortal weakness? What was this bullshyke? For a tick the bat had believed the man meant it would heal his wounds, but that did not feel right. A place like this one was certainly not a good one for your health; in a place teeming with death and death only, why would it heal wounds? And the phrasing Biran had used.... mortal weakness?

Biran had no intention to die, and he probably wasn't looking to heal his injuries either. Mortal weakness. It couldn't be... Mortal weakness. Brandon's eyes widened, his teeth clenched, and fists formed out of his hands. Immortality? He couldn't be serious! Did he intend not to prolong his life but to erase his death? What kind of nonsense was this? This was beyond struggling to live on! This was not simply trying to live just a little bit longer, this was madness! Erasing death from your life, that was a foolish idea!

A cold fire of rage sparked in the bat's mind; this utter disrespect for life itself was not to be tolerated! Without death, how could one feel what it meant to be alive? Without death, how could one find meaning in life? All living things were meant to die, what couldn't die was not alive. Animators and their abominations; this was just the same as that! Those dolls; the could not die, they could only be destroyed! Brandon believed he did not have the right to decide over life and death in most situations, but if this pool truly granted immortality, it would mean Biran was no longer alive. If he was not alive, and he could not die, well, there was nothing to hold him back. There would be no need for hesitation. He'd teach that hiker to respect death!

If life was too hard to bear, there was always a way out in the form of death. If you suffered day in day out, you could console yourself with the thought you would die eventually, that there would be an end to your suffering. Death was merciful to those suffering. Death was deliverance. Death was the blessing from Dira, mercifully given to those mortals, to make things easier for them. Life was a beautiful gift, but not all could bear it. Nor could some see its value, or respect it. Death made sure they would and could. But this? This?! Mortal weakness, don't make the bat laugh! Death was the strength of the mortals! Fear of it made them fight with desperate strength, it made them flee with winged feet, faster than the wind! Death frightened the mortals, and that fear granted them the power to do the impossible. Without death, there were limits that held you down, invisible chains that you couldn't see anymore. You believed to be invincible, limitless, but the opposite was true. You only strengthened your limits. Immortality was a weakness!

Brandon would show Biran that. He'd teach him respect for life, and respect for death. So close to death, the hiker may have done the impossible; casting away his mortality, believing to have transcended his former self. But he hadn't. He'd just thrown away his only way out. No death, no life. No death, no end to his suffering. Cruel it might be, but a being that was not alive was not able to make the bat feel guilty. He'd make the hiker suffer, for all of eternity. He'd make him atone for that blasphemy, for casting aside the great gift of mortality! If the hiker emerged from that pool, he'd find not a friend waiting for him, but a monster waiting to break him. Though the bat did not see it like that at all; cruelty was aimed at living things and the hiker was no longer alive.

Shrugging off the backpack, Brandon stuffed some more rations in his mouth, chewing and swallowing, regaining the energy and strength he'd need, even though rage was fueling his body. Climbing tools were spread out over the floor; rope and metal climbing pins; items he could use. The rest of the alcohol he'd stored away; a flint and steel. Being immortal did not mean being untouchable or invulnerable. Fire should be able to destroy his body, but Brandon was not planning on burning the man alive -though it was a nice back-up. Unless of course the hiker could put out the flames before that time. No, no, Brandon would bury him alive, a couple meters under the surface there would be lots of earth pressing down on him, and there would be no way out. The perfect place for an immortal to think about the grave mistake they'd made.

It was the perfect way for Brandon to set things right himself. It was his own fault this had happened, even though he hadn't known. He'd made a terrible mistake himself, but he would fix it as much as he could. It was probably irreversible, but it mattered not. He'd leave this place, by himself without the companion he'd brought with him. That man was no longer alive, but he wasn't dead either; he'd probably never be. But that was fine. Buried alive Biran would be able to think long and hard about his mistake, he'd be able to reflect on his actions and he might see the light. He might start begging for death; after all, this was the Unforgiving, there was no-one around who could help him. And maybe, just maybe, both Kihala and Dira might forgive him for his misstep. In the end, it was all for the hiker's sake -sort of. Yet, Brandon couldn't act just on an assumption alone. He'd see soon enough whether Biran had healed, and the man would no doubt triumphantly tell him if he'd achieved immortality. Until then, the bat would stand down and wait for him to come back up.

x

credit goes to Euthisa