RuneScape Forum Archive | Echoes of the Gods

Chuk

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“No, you wouldn’t smile for no reason today. A half hour ago, it seemed like you might never smile again, and now you’re grinning like a fool. You’re going to tell me what manged to break your gloom.”

“Oh alright then, if you’re sure. It’s just the way you can turn the simplest question into a lecture. No matter what else is going on, you love to share that knowledge you’ve got stored in here.” Aletayr tapped her lightly on the forehead. “I was just wondering how much it must’ve seen in a life that long, how many sorrows it’s gone through, and I get an earful about native species.”

“Not just sorrows, Aletayr. Joys, too, and how many bright new dawns?”

Aletayr shrugged. “Yeah, those too.. But how do you think it made it through? What’s kept it alive and growing when so many others have fallen to the years? And what did it think when it saw them go?” Ahriele tried to answer, but Aletayr cut in ahead of her. “Rhetorical. That was all rhetorical. I know trees don’t have brains.”

She smiled at him. “You’re going to be alright, aren’t you?”

“I think I might,” he said. “Someday.”

They started walking again, and now it was more of a stroll than a trudge. The sun had climbed well above the treetops, and now its dappled light played through the branches, dancing to and fro across the clover and ferns that lined the path. A songbird twittered, and a squirrel chattered back.

Ahriele put her arm loosely around Aletayr’s shoulder. “Well I hope that someday is sooner rather than later. Xaran wouldn’t want you dwelling on him too long. He’d want us to live, to enjoy life as much as he did.”

“I guess he would at that. I’m just not ready so soon. I keep waiting to hear some flippant comment after everything I say, and it hurts a little more each time it’s not there. I keep waiting to wake up.”

She tightened her arm closer around his shoulders. “It’ll take some time to feel right again. Just make sure you don’t lose yourself while you’re waiting for that time to pass.

14-May-2010 02:30:00 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 07:12:36 by Chuk

Chuk

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Aletayr turned to look at her. “I don’t know how you do it. I know you’re hurting, and yet you can say these things like they’re more than empty words, not just platitudes.”

It took a moment for Ahriele to answer, and Aletayr found himself studying the forest again. They were in a wider space now, the big trees fewer and farther between. Here most of the trees were only saplings, few taller than his shoulder, and they were outnumbered by low shrubs and ferns. He did not know why they all drew his attention so strongly; he had been in the forest plenty of times in training at the Academy, but he had never been so drawn in by the natural world. Finally Ahriele spoke, and Aletayr was startled to hear that her voice was breaking.

“It’s because they are more than just empty words to me. My sister died when I was little, just barely old enough to remember. It still hurts every day, and I don’t like talking about it. But I’ve learned to live without her, and so I know, I really know that despite how much we miss Xaran, we can still go forward. It’s possible, and it’s what we have to do.”

Ahriele took her arm from Aletayr’s shoulders and wiped at her eyes. Before she could move it back, Aletayr wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close enough that her hip pressed against his. “I’m sorry,” he said. She broke into sobs, and he knew his words weren’t enough, but he could think of nothing else to say.

“Well isn’t that cute? Almost enough to make you think twice before robbing ‘em.”

The strange voice, rough as gravel, was answered by another. “Nah. It really ain’t. And I bet the stuff they got is worth more than enough to keep my conscience quiet anyhow.”

14-May-2010 02:30:02 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 07:13:05 by Chuk

Chuk

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A moment later the speakers showed themselves. Along with a third man, they stepped out onto the path hardly ten paces ahead of Ahriele and Aletayr. Though two were short, one tall, and one of the short ones rather more pudgy than his companions, their appearances matched almost exactly. Lank hair so grimy that Aletayr could hardly guess the true colors framed faces just as dirty, faces split by rude sneers. Their coats looked like the only washing they had ever seen was when it rained.

“Brigands,” Aletayr muttered, nudging Ahriele behind him so he could grab the hilt of his sword, though he kept it sheathed.

“What’s that?” the pudgy man called. He was the one who had not yet spoken, and his voice was pitched so high that Aletayr almost laughed. “Brigands you say? I’m not sure I like taking that from you, boy. We were just gonna relieve you of some of your belongings there, but now* now I might have to rough you up some. Relt, Jarik, give him a little treat.”

All three sneers turned to smirks, revealing teeth with prominent gaps. Aletayr sighed and drew his sword. The tall man hefted a club the size of his leg with one hand and smacked it against his other palm. The other, the shortest and skinniest held a short sword, crudely made, yet plenty sharp. They advanced slowly, as if savoring the fear they thought Aletayr should be feeling. Their predatory grins matched the mean light behind their eyes. Shushing Ahriele’s protests, Aletayr strode forward to meet them.

He went for the one with the club first. Leaving his left side open, he swung the sword in a wide , clumsy arc with his right hand. His opponent bought his feint, lunging in with his club aimed at Aletayr’s head. Aletayr stopped his own blow mid-swing, dropped beneath the flailing club, and rolled forward into the man’s knees. Already off balance from striking only air, the man tumbled forward, sprawling on his face.

14-May-2010 02:30:03 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 07:13:16 by Chuk

Chuk

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As soon as he gained his feet, Aletayr stood on his fallen opponent’s wrist while turning to face the second man. This time Aletayr waited. The skinny man seemed less eager than his companion, and doubt had replaced the menace in his eyes. Several times he glanced to the pudgy man, and he only moved forward when the other called out in his high voice, “What’re you waiting on, Relt? Take him! Come on.”

Even forced into action, Relt’s movements were cautious, his thrusts with his short sword merely testing, not threatening. Aletayr found it all too easy to block them all. When the real attack finally came, it was faster than Aletayr expected. The skinny man darted forward like a snake, low to the ground. He jabbed three times: low, trying for Aletayr’s thigh, then high for his throat, and the last aimed in the middle, right below Aletayr’s rib cage.

Despite the speed, Aletayr parried the first two by only twisting his wrist, first down and then back up, his sword whirling to make the blocks. But instead of blocking the third strike, he simply extended his arm, holding his blade – which was longer than his foe’s – straight in front of him. The man called Relt barely stopped his own lunge in time. The point of Aletayr’s sword was hardly a hairsbreadth from his skinny throat, while – by comparison – his own sword had a chasm to cross before piercing Aletayr’s torso.

“Why don’t you go ahead and drop that?” Aletayr said. “And then go ahead and have a seat right there. Please don’t try anything stupid.” When the skinny man complied, Aletayr turned his attention to the man whose wrist he still stood on. “And you,” he said, “I think you’d like me off your wrist? Well why don’t you unwrap those fingers from that club then? There you go.”

14-May-2010 02:30:04 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 07:13:23 by Chuk

Chuk

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Aletayr moved his foot, immediately kicking away the club and then sent the short sword skittering after it. He took a short step back to give the tall man room enough to rise to hands and knees, and then he said, “Now go sit by your buddy there. And you,” he continued, now yelling, “You don’t get off so easily. Come sit by here by your friends. I’d rather not have to chase you, especially since it’d come to the same end anyway.”

At the sight of his henchmen defeated, the fat man had turned to the trees, but now he froze. He glanced back, as if he might be hoping Aletayr was addressing someone else. Aletayr held his eyes, then smiled when the man’s shoulders slumped. A minute later, the man was sitting by his companions, and like them, he gazed at the ground while Aletayr stood studying them.

“Now,” he said, “I get the unwelcome burden of dealing with you. I could tie you up and take you with me, but I’d rather not keep track of you all the way to Kryma. So the easiest alternative, of course, would be to just kill you.”

Their heads whipped up, faces slack. Their wide, terror-stricken eyes latched onto Aletayr’s face, and he smiled coldly.

“No please!" It was the skinny man who spoke, his gravelly voice now hoarse as well.

“What would you suggest instead, then? What would you do to convince me that you deserve to live?”

“Anything, anything at all. Just don’t kill us. Please!” That was the tall man, who still cradled the wrist Aletayr had stood on.

“Before Aletayr could respond, the fat man spoke, his high voice filled with contempt. “Fools! You panicking like a little girl, Relt, and you Jarik, pathetic begging. He ain’t gonna kills us, not in cold blood." He turned his sneer on Aletayr. "His heart ain’t stone, no matter what he says. He's a gutless runt.”

14-May-2010 02:30:05 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 07:13:51 by Chuk

Chuk

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Aletayr’s sword whirled so quickly that the man did*’t have time to change expression before the tip of the blade was resting against his nose. Then his eyes crossed trying to keep it in view.

“Gutless runt, eh?” Aletayr flicked his wrist, drawing blood. “I’d stop the presuming, if I were you, before it gets you in more trouble than it already has.”

“You can’t kill them, Aletayr. The penalty for robbery isn’t execution.” Ahriele cast a disgusted glance across the disheveled bandits. “Besides, it appears they haven’t robbed anyone. Not in a long time, anyway. You’re not a judge, either.”

Aletayr lowered his sword, turning to his friend. The three prisoners sank back in relief, the fat one fingering the cut across his nose. Aletayr thought he heard a muttered prayer of thanks, but he sighed. “I know, Ahri, but they did*’t. Until now. In fact, I’d already decided what I think I want to do. I just wanted to see if they might have a better alternative that I hadn’t thought of.”

He turned back to the prisoners. “And here’s what I decided: you’re going to lead me to your camp. Oh, I know you’ve got one, since you don’t have bedrolls on you, so don’t try denying it,” he finished when the fat man started shaking his head and opened his mouth, as if to protest.

It took hardly any time to get back to their camp. It was a short distance down the path, and then off in the trees, just far enough away to be hidden from anyone on the road. Once they got there, Aletayr told Ahriele to find some rope, since the robbers were still unfettered, while he stayed on guard. She found it in minutes, and there was enough to tie the prisoners hand and foot. But Aletayr did not bind them yet. Instead, he prodded them back to the road, and bound them there. With the last length of remaining rope, he tied them to a tree. Then, smiling at his work, he addressed them.

14-May-2010 02:30:06 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 07:13:59 by Chuk

Chuk

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“Looks like you’re stuck here ‘til you can convince someone to untie you, or ‘til a guard patrol finds you. Maybe you’ll even get lucky and free yourselves. But I’m taking your weapons, and anything from your camp I can carry, so you’ll have to do without it. The guards in Kryma will have it all if any of it’s important.” His grin turned mocking. “And maybe you should think about finding something better to do with yourselves. You’ll have plenty of time to consider.”

While Aletayr had been binding the prisoners and talking to them, Ahriele used charcoal from the campfire and parchment from her pack to write an explanation for any passerby. She hung it from a branch just above the brigands’ heads.

"That’ll take care of everything, I think,” she said. “At least, I don’t think they’ll be convincing anyone they got robbed.”

Aletayr nodded. “Looks good,” he said. Then, without looking back, he and Ahriele returned to the robbers’ camp, taking the little gold they found, and anything else of value they could carry. They cut a diagonal line back to the trail, tramping through soft grass and low brush, and then continued on their way.

The rest of the day passed without event, though Aletayr sank back into grief before they stopped for their midday meal. Ahriele put an arm around him while they sat, but said little. Her brave face from the morning had not returned after talking about her sister, but Aletayr found that just being with her, having someone to share his pain helped some anyway. Soon after they ate, though, they reached a crossroads, and that comfort left him. Ahriele’s home lay to the north while his path continued into the east.

14-May-2010 02:30:07 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 07:15:03 by Chuk

Chuk

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They lingered there for a time, reluctant to say their last farewells. Eventually, when the sun was closing on the treetops, they could tarry no longer. Ahriele wrapped Aletayr in a hug, her arms so tight around him that he almost grunted, yet he returned it with equal strength.

“I’ll miss you,” he said. “Take care of yourself.”

Her hands still resting on his shoulders, she looked him in the eyes, and he could see the worry and care that filled her own. She smiled, but it looked forced and faded quickly. “I will,” she said. “Promise me you’ll do the same. Don’t let your grief swallow you.”

When he did*’t answer right away, her hands tightened on his shoulders. He sighed, surprised that it was so hard to answer. “I won’t,” he said finally, and his voice cracked. He looked down, swallowing, and then went on, “And if I do, I’ll find my way out in the end.”

He looked up, back to her face, and managed a smile. He hoped it was reassuring. He meant it to be, but her eyes became more troubled, not less. They stood for another moment in silence, neither ready to leave the other, but finally Aletayr said, “You should go. It’s still some distance to the inn in Drensin, and you need to be there by nightfall.”

“I know,” she whispered, taking her hands from his shoulders. “I’ll miss you too.” And then she turned away, raising one hand to her brow as if to brush back her hair, but Aletayr had seen the tears welling in her eyes. Then he felt the dampness in his own.

14-May-2010 02:30:08 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 07:14:42 by Chuk

Chuk

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That night, spent alone with the trees and the stars, was one of the worst Aletayr could remember. The only one that could compare was when he finally realized his father was never coming home again. He could remember crying for hours, but then he’d had the comfort of his mother’s arms to help lift the weight from his heart. She wasn't there now, though. Even if she had been, her embrace would have held less comfort than when Aletayr was five.

He lay awake far into the night, staring into the blackness between the stars. Despite exhaustion, he couldn't sleep. The chill of a spring night was partly to blame, he knew, and yet he was so lost in the shadows of grief, he hardly noticed, even when the breeze nipped across his face. And through the night, he wondered how Domi, the God he worshipped, the God of order and peace and kindness, how he could let something so evil happen in a school dedicated in his name, for his people. For the first time, Aletayr doubted and wondered if the Gods were real.

Eventually, sometime in the dark hours of the early morning before dawn, Aletayr slipped into troubled sleep. His rest was broken by dreams, visions haunted by fear and sorrow, dreams where Xaran’s silent scream echoed through the chasms of eternity and dreams where Xaran cursed him – condemned him – for failing in vengeance. When the dreams became too much, Aletayr would wake himself with a small cry, just aware enough to see the stars still glinting or the first gray framing dark silhouettes of trees in the eastern sky, and then he would drift into a dream that seemed worse than the last.

He woke when the first golden rays of the sun crested the branches, their soft touch warm upon his face. Blinking, he roused himself despite the heaviness that clung to his eyelids. After a breakfast of bread, crusty around the edges, and a bruised apple, he was back on the path, trudging towards home.

14-May-2010 02:41:05 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 07:15:17 by Chuk

Chuk

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His journey was filled with thoughts like to those of the night before, and it passed in a dark haze that recoiled from the sun and muffled the sounds and scents of spring. He stared only at the ground, seeing neither the butterflies that flitted past his face, nor the fawn taking its first steps at its mother’s side. And without Ahriele there to pull his spirits from the gloom, he only sank deeper as the day passed, focusing ever inwards.

He hardly noticed when he passed out of the forest that afternoon, into a town not quite large enough to be a city. At the gate, guards stopped him with queries, but he was unsure what they said or of what he answered so that they let him through. He wandered along a street framed by stone houses, gray and tall enough to hide the sinking sun. At one corner, there was a tavern, and from it spilled laughter and boasting and a merry tune leaping from a musician’s nimble fingers. Aletayr finally lifted his eyes, staring about in astonishment, hardly believing that his darkened world had not claimed everyone around. And then, as he looked around, he realized where he was.

Lost in his stupor, he had not realized that this town was Kryma, his home. The street to his house was one of the first he’d passed after entering the walls, and he had not recognized it. Shaking his head, he turned on his heel to retrace his steps, to go home. After a few minutes, he arrived.

At the front of the stone walk leading to the door, he paused, straightening his hair, and tried to find some semblance of a smile, which in truth he found easier than expected. It had been well over a year since he had seen his mother, and the scent of a freshly cooked meal reminded him how glad he would be to see her again. Then he walked up the path, knocked on the door and called out, “It’s me****, I’m home!”

14-May-2010 02:41:07 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 07:15:27 by Chuk

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Echoes of the Gods