I wait silently as thick soupy fog rolls across the forest below. The view from my vantage point high above the forest treetops is breathtaking but I am not here to see the sights. I am not perched atop a narrow outcrop of stone overlooking the valley on a whim. I am keeping watch upon that winding path leading through the valley; keeping watch for the man whom I know will follow the trail. Soon I will get my chance.
So I sit up here in the cold, my heavy cloak wrapped tightly around myself for warmth, waiting for him to appear. I run my hands along the graceful curve of the bow I have slung across my shoulder. I have always found the texture of the wood comforting.
Before me the mists gently drift across the valley. Some areas grow sharper while others become less distinct as the fog shifts. I try my best to ignore the fantastic shapes formed by the restless mist and instead concentrate on the path.
The quiver on my back creaks slightly as I move. The sound gently breaks the silence. I still my restlessness with a quick thought. Soon this would be done and if done right this portion of my life would be over. If done wrong my own life would be over. I will not fail however. Too much is riding upon this.
On that trail far below movement catches my eye. A pennant bearing horseman emerges from the trees. His horse is keeping a steady pace as he plows forward through the fog. The man's burnished armour gleams in the morning light and the banner in his hand flaps merrily in the breeze. On that banner rides a black owl standing on a red field, its colour is vibrant enough to be clearly visible through the fog.
Another pair of riders emerge from the forest on the heels of the first, each one of the pair leading a line horsemen. They are the honour guard.
They are a striking sight. Each rider holds an upright lance of elaborate steelworks and from the tips of each hung a red ribbon. These men would seem more in place at a military parade than out here in the wild. Their demeanour suggested so as well. They were relaxed and brazen; their stance held no hint of concern for their surroundings.
A short distance down the line came a break in the formation. Instead of a pair of soldiers a single mounted guard, probably the captain, led a covered and curtained carriage drawn by four pure white stallions. As I watched the curtains shifted as though they had been brushed by a stray hand.
My target is in there, of that I am sure.
Behind the carriage trails another twin stream of soldiers but I barely have eyes for them. Instead I remain focused on that carriage; I can feel that old hatred coming to life in me once more. The man inside... He must pay for what he has done to me.
This I swear.
Dusty Roads
Dust rises off the desert road as a caravan rides out. The twin line of horses rides slowly alongside the heavily laden wagons. The riders joke casually as they ride out; they’re expecting this to be an uneventful journey and it shows in their demeanour.
A man sits on the wall high above the gate and sullenly watches them leave. He idly twirls a strand of his long black hair between his fingers as he stares after them. He wished he were out there with them; he didn't care where they were going so long as it was away from here. Far away from here.
He reconsidered as he thought of the stories he'd heard of caravan work, maybe joining a caravan wouldn’t be the best idea. But still... even the caravan work wouldn't be so bad if it got him away from this hole of a city. He had visited many places in his travels, some with whichever mercenaries he had been with at the time and other places he had seen his own. Of all of them he hated this place the most. That being said this was the first time he had been to the desert. Previously he had always found some way to avoid the great sands. However of all of the desert cities he could have been forced to come to this one was most preferable just because of the history. But still… if he could have avoided it…
"Never again," he muttered.
The dry wind and unceasing heat made him long for his old home in the mountains with its cool mornings, trees to provide shelter from the sun and even the occasional storm. That would be much preferable to this.
The city itself was dry; the blazing sun had long since sucked all of the moisture from the rough stone.
He imagined that from a distance these buildings, with their white walls, would look as though they were nothing more than parched bones scattered carelessly across the parched desert. The city didn’t look too impressive but what it lacked in appearance it more than made up for in history.
The city had started as little more than a trading post near an oasis. That was long ago; that was before the war. When the war had broken out armies had looked for the fastest route across the desert. The route the commanders had decided on had been that small road which had went past the trading post. The legions of the empire had marched that road for the duration of the war. Along its route they had built areas for encampments and found new sources of water through a combination of spells and ingenuity. The road had grown quickly. As the route had grown more and more popular the trading post had grown into a village, the village grew into a town and then eventually expanded into a small city. The city had grown to be important enough that during the war many battles had been fought over its ownership.
Even when the war had ended the city continued to grow. Merchant caravans began to use the roads instead of the imperial military. The trade routes shifted to take advantage of the enhancements made to the road. The city had continued to grow as well and eventually mercenaries had started to build permanent barracks at the edges of the city. It was convenient for them since, as it had burgeoned into a merchant’s city, the city was easily accessible from all directions and it was fairly central in the empire. From there the mercenaries could easily march anywhere in the empire.
In spite of its growth rate the city had remained officially nameless for many years but its citizens had come to call it "Fortune." Eventually the name had stuck.
A shout from the bottom of the wall drew the man's attention.
"Hey Fafnir, aren't you supposed to be keeping watch?"
"I am bloody well keeping watch!" he roared back, irritated by the man's tone, "Our employer is not yet in sight. If he bloody well were I would have sent word! You think I'm waiting up here for my bloody health?"
"No need to get huffy!" the other voice yelled back, "I was just wondering if you were, I don't know, sleeping or something. It can't be too exciting up there."
Fafnir didn't bother to respond as he frowned at the empty road before him. A moment of silence passed and then the owner of the voice, Varo, emerged from the nearby gatehouse tower.
"I'm here to relieve you," Varo said quickly. He seemed nervous; he probably didn't want to get yelled at again. The man was a good soldier, but he like many of the recruits seemed to be quite intimidated of Fafnir. The momentary courage Varo had possessed when he yelled up to Fafnir seemed to have faded. Fafnir let his anger dissipate as he nodded and rose to go. Varo did mean well enough even if he was annoying.
Fafnir cast one more glance at the empty road before he entered the tower. For all the history this place had it sure seemed boring now. During the war there had been many battles fought here, many legends had been created on the ground surrounding this place. But now it was just quiet; much too quiet for him.
Maybe the time had come for him to move on.
Fafnir shook his head as he entered the relative cool of the tower, that was not a decision he should take lightly, and neither did he plan to.
Turmoil
Patiently I wait on the hill as thunder booms in the distance. The sky has threatened to open up for the past quarter hour, but as of yet I had not felt a hint of the rain it promised. So I remain sitting in the darkness waiting to see the lights illuminate the night sky; waiting to see an aurora borealis.
The scent of rain flows past my face, carried by the silent wind. It seemed this was to be a race I thought; a race between the coming rain and the streams of colour I wished to see in the night sky. Instead all I see are the rolling clouds in the darkness, floating so high above. Soon they would clear; soon I would be able to see past them. Until then I would continue to wait.
Idly I wondered which would come first; would the clouds clear to let me see the lights? Instead would they pour rain down upon me? Regardless of the rain I would stay to see the lights, but I had no wish to remain in the cold and wet for too long.
Already I have been waiting for what feels like hours, although some rational part of my mind tells me that I can't have been here for that long. Something is on my mind making the time stretch out. I know what is bothering me, and it is not the wait.
Several nights before I had been asked a question that caught me off guard. She had asked, "Do you love her? You spend so much time together."
After some consideration I had answered truthfully, "Yes."
You had better act she told me. All of your excuses for not talking to her are worthless. None of that matters.
I had laughed it off at the time but now... Now I know that she spoke true. If I don't speak to here I will regret it for the rest of my life, I know that. But I also know that if I do speak to her it could end badly as well.
What I do know is she makes me feel at peace, happy. She is fun, hopeful, kind and fair. But when with her I tend to feel as though we come from, and we belong in, separate worlds. She goes one way and I go the other. Yet we can always seem to find common ground.
I am at a loss for what to do.
Something in the sky catches my attention. The clouds are breaking up and between them I can see something. I stare intently at it as it slowly grows brighter. Beneath the clouds is a great green band of light which stretches as far as I can see. Then I noticed it was moving. The green lights danced across the sky, it moved like ripples on a pond. I was enchanted.
Never before had I seen something of its like. I froze and just stared at it. The worry I held within began to fade away.
This sight drove all else from my mind. All I felt was a sense of wonder.
At that moment I knew what I had to do. I had to talk to her.