Post by Joshua, the Wayne on Aug 7, 2009 4:43:33 GMT -5
"It's been an awful long night, hasn't it Master Faol?" Geafford muttered at the edge of the dim lantern's light.
Faol was silent. Geafford waited for any sort of response, but even after months of silence of course Lord Faol still wouldn't speak.
Geafford shook his head in disappointment. Of course, he wouldn't speak. Maybe he'd forgotten everything after the October War. Faol was never the same.
And his hair was the strangest mixture of black and white. The root of each strand was a deep ink black, but it turned white afterwards. It was quite strange, Geafford had to admit. Giovanni had met Geafford at the local chapel during evening candle services. Geafford only noticed Faol because all he seemed to do was sit at the very edge and stare at the ground, still as a statue with a fierce wolfish grimace on his face. Geafford wondered if he was merely staring down a beetle or some other vile manifestation of the sort.
Geafford, curious at this man's identity, for he stood out in his pitch black leather clothing, approached and made an attempt to talk to this man. Though, Geafford was not in good luck. Faol seemed to dissatisfyingly lift his eyes from their motionless glare and look at Geafford's coat pocket. Then, as if immediately displeased that this pocket was not as interesting as the previous object he was staring at, he returned his gaze to their original place like Geafford was merely invisible.
Geafford then later asked the priest who this strange man was, the priest told him his name was Giovanni Faol. Geafford nodded and later picked Giovanni up from his motionless petrifice and led him out of the church to the nearest pub serving buttercream ale.
After that, Geafford dragged Giovanni all around. Giovanni never spoke a single word.
Geafford would usually ask him questions, asking him if he had any family or if he had any kind of impairment. Maybe he was going through a dark time, maybe he was ordered not to speak, maybe one of those dreadful shamans had put a curse on him. Geafford had no way to tell.
So for the next few months, he would usher Giovanni along, taking him to eat when necessary, trying to figure out what held this man's tongue so firm in place, and asking others if they had ever seen him.
The response was always either a "No" or "He looks like me gran'pa."
Geafford released a great breath of air. He would need to go visit his sister Julia soon and ask her if she might let them both stay the night.
"Well, Master Faol, I think we need to be leaving. Come on, let me give you a hand there." with a tug of Giovanni's hand, Geafford pulled him up to his feet and brushed the dust off of his shoulders.
Geafford leaned down and swiped up the oil lanter, holding it straight out from his chest and letting it lead them down one of the dark streets of city Fost.
It was the middle of the night, and a curtain of stars and deep darkness was high above their heads. No one was outside but the two, and they were walking down a long cobblestone street.
Minutes passed and the two were nearing the house. Geafford was panting. He was slightly plump with a leather jacket, a feathered black cap on his head, and short cut blonde hair. Geafford, under his jacket, had a royal red brigandine and red trousers. He worked as a carriageman while his sister worked as a fine cook. She often sold beverages and pastries. She was quite good at it, no wonder of his size.
The oil lamp's light was slowly dying. The moon was a mere string of light in the sky, barely offering any kind of light to Geafford and Master Faol.
Geafford coughed and reached for a small oilskin he stored his fresh oil in case of emergencies like this. Giovanni came to a complete stop behind Geafford and began looking around, his petrified face refusing to change it's rude scowl. It seemed like he was always smelling a foul stench, making his nostrils lift and stretch the thin skin on his face, carving a thick line of shadow around his lips.
Geafford laid the lantern down and with a jerking hand plucked the cap out of the skin. A fresh stench of oil flooded the air as he once again uplifted the lantern, unhitching the latch and attempting to pour in more oil.
A noise all of a sudden broke the silence, next to come was a surprised Geafford jerking his sweaty hand, releasing the lantern and letting it crash on the cobblestone path.
The fire broke loose and began traveling along the canals of oil now dripping on the floor from his oilskin.
Geafford gave a worried yelp and backed away quickly from the growing flames.
"Giovanni! Quick, look for some barrels of water!" Geafford blasted, turning around to Giovanni.
But Giovanni was not in the least worried. He was once again filled with that vulturous stare, but this was the most unbareable glare Geafford had ever seen Master Faol give.
And Master Faol was staring at something behind Geafford, from what it seemed.
Geafford sucked in a slow breath. His heart picked up a heavier pace, like a horse running away from a preying beast.
Geafford turned his head, just barely an inch, to look behind him.
There was no one there.
Geafford raised his right hand to his chest, as if clutching where his heart should be, and back towards Giovanni.
"Giovanni, we need the water barrels now! Hurry, we're wasting ti--"
"Get behind me."
Geafford paused, gawking at Giovanni. He could speak! What was it, though, the concoction that made him say anything?
"Giovanni--you can tal--"
"I told you to get behind me." Master Faol spat out.
Geafford blinked and nodded, trudging to behind Giovanni.
Geafford stared out into the darkness, all he could see was the fire glistening in the pitch black street.
Then, a figure began to manifest from behind the cruel flames.
"Faol." came a soft voice, very hushed just above the heat of the flames. Though this voice reminded Geafford of a kind of snake, maybe a falcon or some other animal of prey.
"I can't believe you would survive. Zeth told me he killed you. He and his sister killed you."
"They never killed me, Faol. They only killed a part of me."
Geafford was bewildered. What was this talk of? Was this unseen man a sort of lich? A ghost, perhaps? Geafford couldn't stand to know.
Giovanni's hand began softly clawing aimlessly at his side, as if he were imagining a sort of power with the gesture of his fingers.
"Saarlon, stop speaking this foolishness." came a different voice. Geafford didn't understand. This voice seemed to be hushing the crueler one which Geafford guessed was named Saarlon.
From the darkness came a man in deep black clothes. His face enlightened Geafford, though. This man seemed like a kinder folk. His hair was a deep rusty bronze, as if growing a bit older. When Geafford saw what was held on this man's back, though, Geafford slightly flinched.
There was a cruel battleaxe, it seemed a wrathful sort of punisher to Geafford.
"Hmm. He isn't alone. What is your name, boy? Speak."
Geafford gulped loudly. Should he answer? Giovanni didn't say anything against it, maybe he had nothing to fear.
"M-my name is Geafford. Geafford Carper."
"And do you know this man?" the bronze-haired one asked, gesturing with a nod towards Giovanni.
"Well, I... I have spent some time with him--he never said much, so I really don't--"
"And what is it you do for your earnings, Master Carper?"
Geafford paused. Master Carper. He had never been called such a name. He slightly liked the ring of it.
"Well, I... I'm the local coachman... I own a few horses an--"
"Good. You can come with us. Saarlon, put the fire out. Where is Felix? Felix, where are you?"
Once again, a quick mutter out of the darkness puzzled Geafford.
"But sir, I cannot leave my sister. She--"
"We have no time for your sister. She can handle herself." came the cruel voice, Saarlon.
"I will not leave without her." Geafford demanded, stomping his foot.
A flavored laugh hinted the heated air and to the fire approached a short scholar in a deep blue robe. The man lifted his hood and revealed a tiny face with glasses and matted silver hair. The man opened his mouth to speak and uttered words so fast that Geafford almost didn't make it past the first phrase.
"Mister Geafford, how about you stop wasting your time whining about bringing your wife and just go grab her? We can surely take her along if we have room. But now, we must make haste. Hurry."
Geafford blinked and nodded. Quickly walking forward, he once more paused as a cold hand grabbed his shoulder. Geafford yelped and turned to look at whoever it was that grabbed his shoulder, but it was only Giovanni and his gargoylish face. "We will not do anything they say until they tell us what it is they're doing."
Geafford was suddenly cold, he thought that Giovanni would know what it was they wanted, but it appeared that even he was as abroad as Geafford in the matter.
The golden fire in front of the two began to slowly die retreat into the rocky surface, draining the light.
It took but a mere second and a loud snap followed by a shatter of sparks broke the pitch blackness of the night, and a pale face with deep black hair and a covered eye was shown through a fire that rested in the man's hand.
Geafford guessed this was Saarlon.
"Are you telling us that you have no idea what is about to happen?" Saarlon's voice rasped.
Giovanni merely shook his head.
Saarlon snarled. "What a pity, you know nothing outside of this pathetic town. For your information, Fabrith and Raoro are readying a union."
Giovanni's eyebrows narrowed.
"And what is wrong with such a thing?"
Saarlon's lip curled up over his yellow teeth.
"Sepith Cesnic is his name. The Fabrith candidate."
Geafford heard a soft grinding noise. It seemed to come from Giovanni's mouth, his teeth were in quite a bond.
"And Sepith is not your type of choice, is it?"
Saarlon closed his right eye and reached for his left eyepatch, moving it from his left eye to his right.
"We do not believe we can trust him is all."
Giovanni barely made a quirky laugh. "You can't trust him, what a pity. And what's the rush for travelling across an entire continent for some simple task?"
"Faol, you don't understand. We believe that Gortek's new Emperor--"
Giovanni's eyes widened as if Saarlon had spat a curse at him.
"we believe that this new Emperor is making a move to control other countries."
Giovanni lowered his gaze. "Of course, as they always do. And what does this have to do with Sepith? He is of Fabrith, is he not?"
"Sepith we do believe is from Fabrith, but we believe he--"
all of a sudden, from what sounded far off, a chilling otherworldly shriek broke the hum of the night.
"Quick!!" the bronze-haired man shouted.
"We must hurry! Carper, take us to your horses now!!"
Geafford was at first motionless, but a sudden sense snapped inside of him and he rushed off towards his sister's house.
Bursting through the front door, he ran inside and found her in her bedroom under blankets.
"Julia! Julia!!" Geafford shouted, shuffling through the covers and grabbing his sister's arms, shaking her.
"Julia!! Come quick, I can't explain but we must leave!!"
but there was no response. Geafford felt a sudden chill that was beyond the frigidness of even the coldest winter blizzard he had ever been in.
"Julia, wake up!!"
Still there was no response from his sister. Reaching for beside her bed, he fingered for the lantern's knob and turned it.
At first, the light was a mere blink of red. But as he kept turning the knob and turning and turning it, it began sproutting and blooming into a sufficient light.
Geafford then turned back to his sister, still shaking her arm, and saw her face in the pillow.
He grabbed her chin and turned her face towards his own.
He screamed, unable to even fathom what he saw.
Julia's face was pale, bone white--all except for her crimson, bleeding eyes.
"Aah!! Aaaaah!!" Geafford couldn't even move, he was motionless. But from the blackness of the room that was unlit, even the red light couldn't reach the other end.
Geafford heard a growl like a stalking hound.
"Wh-who is there? Who did this? Who did this? I will kill you! I will--"
A streak of red flew across the room, gliding towards him. Geafford was unable to move. There was no face, only a red wad of wind flying towards him like a phantom.
He closed his eyes, ready for fate, but when nothing happened, he opened his eyes again. Giovanni had pierced the crimson figure with a brilliant steel lance.
Giovanni grabbed Geafford's shoulder hard enough that Geafford winced in pain and heard something snap. Giovanni without a word swept Geafford onto his back and began running out the bedroom door.
Geafford gasped, blinking wildly. "What... What was that?? Master Faol, what was that??"
Giovanni made no response, he kept winding at blinding speed through doorway after doorway, making it into the cold night air once again.
"Sir, we don't need to travel at such a haste!!"
"They never come alone."
"Wh-what?! There are more??"
"I'm sure you can find them if you keep looking."
Geafford winced and sealed his eyelids shut. "Julia!! They killed her!! Julia is dead!"
"Save it for later."
Geafford began streaming tears. He couldn't forget the sight of her face, whiter than her bedsheets--all white, except for those horrid, ghoulish crimson blood that was dripping from her eyes. Lifeless.
And then the beast. The red beast. Didn't such a horror only exist in the stories they told children so they wouldn't wander away? How could this come true.
Geafford lifted his gaze to look at the moon above. It was turning a dusty orange, glooming the clouds in the sky.
"Why do they even exist..."
"God knows why. We should leave it to him."
"Julia..."
Giovanni sighed. "I am sorry, Geafford."
"Shut up! You never warned me! You only sat there all day doing nothing while I did everything I could to get you to speak, and then you only do something for me after you could have saved my sister!"
Giovanni shook his head. "Geafford, we couldn't have done anything."
"You could have killed them before they killed her!"
"Do you really think things like that red, disgusting filth of the earth can die?"
Geafford blinked.
"You mean they can't die?"
"Are you catching on to me, now?"
Geafford lowered his gaze, feeling the darkness of the world, darkness even deeper than the darkness of night, seep into his thoughts.
"I am... I..."
"Be quiet now, we're almost at the horses."
"..."
(to be continued)
Faol was silent. Geafford waited for any sort of response, but even after months of silence of course Lord Faol still wouldn't speak.
Geafford shook his head in disappointment. Of course, he wouldn't speak. Maybe he'd forgotten everything after the October War. Faol was never the same.
And his hair was the strangest mixture of black and white. The root of each strand was a deep ink black, but it turned white afterwards. It was quite strange, Geafford had to admit. Giovanni had met Geafford at the local chapel during evening candle services. Geafford only noticed Faol because all he seemed to do was sit at the very edge and stare at the ground, still as a statue with a fierce wolfish grimace on his face. Geafford wondered if he was merely staring down a beetle or some other vile manifestation of the sort.
Geafford, curious at this man's identity, for he stood out in his pitch black leather clothing, approached and made an attempt to talk to this man. Though, Geafford was not in good luck. Faol seemed to dissatisfyingly lift his eyes from their motionless glare and look at Geafford's coat pocket. Then, as if immediately displeased that this pocket was not as interesting as the previous object he was staring at, he returned his gaze to their original place like Geafford was merely invisible.
Geafford then later asked the priest who this strange man was, the priest told him his name was Giovanni Faol. Geafford nodded and later picked Giovanni up from his motionless petrifice and led him out of the church to the nearest pub serving buttercream ale.
After that, Geafford dragged Giovanni all around. Giovanni never spoke a single word.
Geafford would usually ask him questions, asking him if he had any family or if he had any kind of impairment. Maybe he was going through a dark time, maybe he was ordered not to speak, maybe one of those dreadful shamans had put a curse on him. Geafford had no way to tell.
So for the next few months, he would usher Giovanni along, taking him to eat when necessary, trying to figure out what held this man's tongue so firm in place, and asking others if they had ever seen him.
The response was always either a "No" or "He looks like me gran'pa."
Geafford released a great breath of air. He would need to go visit his sister Julia soon and ask her if she might let them both stay the night.
"Well, Master Faol, I think we need to be leaving. Come on, let me give you a hand there." with a tug of Giovanni's hand, Geafford pulled him up to his feet and brushed the dust off of his shoulders.
Geafford leaned down and swiped up the oil lanter, holding it straight out from his chest and letting it lead them down one of the dark streets of city Fost.
It was the middle of the night, and a curtain of stars and deep darkness was high above their heads. No one was outside but the two, and they were walking down a long cobblestone street.
Minutes passed and the two were nearing the house. Geafford was panting. He was slightly plump with a leather jacket, a feathered black cap on his head, and short cut blonde hair. Geafford, under his jacket, had a royal red brigandine and red trousers. He worked as a carriageman while his sister worked as a fine cook. She often sold beverages and pastries. She was quite good at it, no wonder of his size.
The oil lamp's light was slowly dying. The moon was a mere string of light in the sky, barely offering any kind of light to Geafford and Master Faol.
Geafford coughed and reached for a small oilskin he stored his fresh oil in case of emergencies like this. Giovanni came to a complete stop behind Geafford and began looking around, his petrified face refusing to change it's rude scowl. It seemed like he was always smelling a foul stench, making his nostrils lift and stretch the thin skin on his face, carving a thick line of shadow around his lips.
Geafford laid the lantern down and with a jerking hand plucked the cap out of the skin. A fresh stench of oil flooded the air as he once again uplifted the lantern, unhitching the latch and attempting to pour in more oil.
A noise all of a sudden broke the silence, next to come was a surprised Geafford jerking his sweaty hand, releasing the lantern and letting it crash on the cobblestone path.
The fire broke loose and began traveling along the canals of oil now dripping on the floor from his oilskin.
Geafford gave a worried yelp and backed away quickly from the growing flames.
"Giovanni! Quick, look for some barrels of water!" Geafford blasted, turning around to Giovanni.
But Giovanni was not in the least worried. He was once again filled with that vulturous stare, but this was the most unbareable glare Geafford had ever seen Master Faol give.
And Master Faol was staring at something behind Geafford, from what it seemed.
Geafford sucked in a slow breath. His heart picked up a heavier pace, like a horse running away from a preying beast.
Geafford turned his head, just barely an inch, to look behind him.
There was no one there.
Geafford raised his right hand to his chest, as if clutching where his heart should be, and back towards Giovanni.
"Giovanni, we need the water barrels now! Hurry, we're wasting ti--"
"Get behind me."
Geafford paused, gawking at Giovanni. He could speak! What was it, though, the concoction that made him say anything?
"Giovanni--you can tal--"
"I told you to get behind me." Master Faol spat out.
Geafford blinked and nodded, trudging to behind Giovanni.
Geafford stared out into the darkness, all he could see was the fire glistening in the pitch black street.
Then, a figure began to manifest from behind the cruel flames.
"Faol." came a soft voice, very hushed just above the heat of the flames. Though this voice reminded Geafford of a kind of snake, maybe a falcon or some other animal of prey.
"I can't believe you would survive. Zeth told me he killed you. He and his sister killed you."
"They never killed me, Faol. They only killed a part of me."
Geafford was bewildered. What was this talk of? Was this unseen man a sort of lich? A ghost, perhaps? Geafford couldn't stand to know.
Giovanni's hand began softly clawing aimlessly at his side, as if he were imagining a sort of power with the gesture of his fingers.
"Saarlon, stop speaking this foolishness." came a different voice. Geafford didn't understand. This voice seemed to be hushing the crueler one which Geafford guessed was named Saarlon.
From the darkness came a man in deep black clothes. His face enlightened Geafford, though. This man seemed like a kinder folk. His hair was a deep rusty bronze, as if growing a bit older. When Geafford saw what was held on this man's back, though, Geafford slightly flinched.
There was a cruel battleaxe, it seemed a wrathful sort of punisher to Geafford.
"Hmm. He isn't alone. What is your name, boy? Speak."
Geafford gulped loudly. Should he answer? Giovanni didn't say anything against it, maybe he had nothing to fear.
"M-my name is Geafford. Geafford Carper."
"And do you know this man?" the bronze-haired one asked, gesturing with a nod towards Giovanni.
"Well, I... I have spent some time with him--he never said much, so I really don't--"
"And what is it you do for your earnings, Master Carper?"
Geafford paused. Master Carper. He had never been called such a name. He slightly liked the ring of it.
"Well, I... I'm the local coachman... I own a few horses an--"
"Good. You can come with us. Saarlon, put the fire out. Where is Felix? Felix, where are you?"
Once again, a quick mutter out of the darkness puzzled Geafford.
"But sir, I cannot leave my sister. She--"
"We have no time for your sister. She can handle herself." came the cruel voice, Saarlon.
"I will not leave without her." Geafford demanded, stomping his foot.
A flavored laugh hinted the heated air and to the fire approached a short scholar in a deep blue robe. The man lifted his hood and revealed a tiny face with glasses and matted silver hair. The man opened his mouth to speak and uttered words so fast that Geafford almost didn't make it past the first phrase.
"Mister Geafford, how about you stop wasting your time whining about bringing your wife and just go grab her? We can surely take her along if we have room. But now, we must make haste. Hurry."
Geafford blinked and nodded. Quickly walking forward, he once more paused as a cold hand grabbed his shoulder. Geafford yelped and turned to look at whoever it was that grabbed his shoulder, but it was only Giovanni and his gargoylish face. "We will not do anything they say until they tell us what it is they're doing."
Geafford was suddenly cold, he thought that Giovanni would know what it was they wanted, but it appeared that even he was as abroad as Geafford in the matter.
The golden fire in front of the two began to slowly die retreat into the rocky surface, draining the light.
It took but a mere second and a loud snap followed by a shatter of sparks broke the pitch blackness of the night, and a pale face with deep black hair and a covered eye was shown through a fire that rested in the man's hand.
Geafford guessed this was Saarlon.
"Are you telling us that you have no idea what is about to happen?" Saarlon's voice rasped.
Giovanni merely shook his head.
Saarlon snarled. "What a pity, you know nothing outside of this pathetic town. For your information, Fabrith and Raoro are readying a union."
Giovanni's eyebrows narrowed.
"And what is wrong with such a thing?"
Saarlon's lip curled up over his yellow teeth.
"Sepith Cesnic is his name. The Fabrith candidate."
Geafford heard a soft grinding noise. It seemed to come from Giovanni's mouth, his teeth were in quite a bond.
"And Sepith is not your type of choice, is it?"
Saarlon closed his right eye and reached for his left eyepatch, moving it from his left eye to his right.
"We do not believe we can trust him is all."
Giovanni barely made a quirky laugh. "You can't trust him, what a pity. And what's the rush for travelling across an entire continent for some simple task?"
"Faol, you don't understand. We believe that Gortek's new Emperor--"
Giovanni's eyes widened as if Saarlon had spat a curse at him.
"we believe that this new Emperor is making a move to control other countries."
Giovanni lowered his gaze. "Of course, as they always do. And what does this have to do with Sepith? He is of Fabrith, is he not?"
"Sepith we do believe is from Fabrith, but we believe he--"
all of a sudden, from what sounded far off, a chilling otherworldly shriek broke the hum of the night.
"Quick!!" the bronze-haired man shouted.
"We must hurry! Carper, take us to your horses now!!"
Geafford was at first motionless, but a sudden sense snapped inside of him and he rushed off towards his sister's house.
Bursting through the front door, he ran inside and found her in her bedroom under blankets.
"Julia! Julia!!" Geafford shouted, shuffling through the covers and grabbing his sister's arms, shaking her.
"Julia!! Come quick, I can't explain but we must leave!!"
but there was no response. Geafford felt a sudden chill that was beyond the frigidness of even the coldest winter blizzard he had ever been in.
"Julia, wake up!!"
Still there was no response from his sister. Reaching for beside her bed, he fingered for the lantern's knob and turned it.
At first, the light was a mere blink of red. But as he kept turning the knob and turning and turning it, it began sproutting and blooming into a sufficient light.
Geafford then turned back to his sister, still shaking her arm, and saw her face in the pillow.
He grabbed her chin and turned her face towards his own.
He screamed, unable to even fathom what he saw.
Julia's face was pale, bone white--all except for her crimson, bleeding eyes.
"Aah!! Aaaaah!!" Geafford couldn't even move, he was motionless. But from the blackness of the room that was unlit, even the red light couldn't reach the other end.
Geafford heard a growl like a stalking hound.
"Wh-who is there? Who did this? Who did this? I will kill you! I will--"
A streak of red flew across the room, gliding towards him. Geafford was unable to move. There was no face, only a red wad of wind flying towards him like a phantom.
He closed his eyes, ready for fate, but when nothing happened, he opened his eyes again. Giovanni had pierced the crimson figure with a brilliant steel lance.
Giovanni grabbed Geafford's shoulder hard enough that Geafford winced in pain and heard something snap. Giovanni without a word swept Geafford onto his back and began running out the bedroom door.
Geafford gasped, blinking wildly. "What... What was that?? Master Faol, what was that??"
Giovanni made no response, he kept winding at blinding speed through doorway after doorway, making it into the cold night air once again.
"Sir, we don't need to travel at such a haste!!"
"They never come alone."
"Wh-what?! There are more??"
"I'm sure you can find them if you keep looking."
Geafford winced and sealed his eyelids shut. "Julia!! They killed her!! Julia is dead!"
"Save it for later."
Geafford began streaming tears. He couldn't forget the sight of her face, whiter than her bedsheets--all white, except for those horrid, ghoulish crimson blood that was dripping from her eyes. Lifeless.
And then the beast. The red beast. Didn't such a horror only exist in the stories they told children so they wouldn't wander away? How could this come true.
Geafford lifted his gaze to look at the moon above. It was turning a dusty orange, glooming the clouds in the sky.
"Why do they even exist..."
"God knows why. We should leave it to him."
"Julia..."
Giovanni sighed. "I am sorry, Geafford."
"Shut up! You never warned me! You only sat there all day doing nothing while I did everything I could to get you to speak, and then you only do something for me after you could have saved my sister!"
Giovanni shook his head. "Geafford, we couldn't have done anything."
"You could have killed them before they killed her!"
"Do you really think things like that red, disgusting filth of the earth can die?"
Geafford blinked.
"You mean they can't die?"
"Are you catching on to me, now?"
Geafford lowered his gaze, feeling the darkness of the world, darkness even deeper than the darkness of night, seep into his thoughts.
"I am... I..."
"Be quiet now, we're almost at the horses."
"..."
(to be continued)