3. Cike's Days Off

Cike's Days Off


  • November 18th

    He woke again the soft wind blowing silence all about him. It was the dream again. He cupped his head pulling aside the bed roll blanket. Was he going mad again? Was this a sign for him to try to leave Narfell again? He had to be mad it was the only explanation. Guilt and Madness, even the undead when he died last told him so, the Lich of his past did not exist he was just a madman.

    It was always the same deep in the woods he hunted something just out of sight and reach, he would raise his bow, arrow notched searching, looking into the darkness. The trees about were silent the familiar sounds of the woods quieted. There was no rustle of leaves or breaking of twigs but he knew there was movement out there, knew that something continued to circle him, something continue to watch him. It's coat was white and brilliant as it dashed about just outside his field of vision or through the corner of his eye. His heart beat loudly in his chest the only sound within his dream forest. His eyes dashed about to catch a better glance of the figure. Why was he hunting it? Did he mean to Kill it? No that was not it, something else roamed the forest something else that he could not see. Was this his true enemy? He stepped lightly trying to let the shadows spill over and conceal him, but the haunting feeling of being watched continued.

    The urge of being in the glen washed over him and the forest melted about him as only a dream could and he stood before the alter in the druid's glen, the air and trees about him charged with energy pushing and pulling at his being. His hand itched and he rested his bow on the ground before the alter. Calmness overcame him and his mind drifted until he awoke.

    The moon was shining down on him as he cradled his head. The nightmares had ceased only to be replaced by this new dream that only confounded him. The trees rustled and again he felt watched from the shadows and sky. The wind blew lightly and kissed his cheek and suddenly he felt drowsy once again falling back onto his bedroll. Sleep overcame him and once again he was enveloped in the dream.

    With that he closed his eyes and let it take him.


  • November 5th

    There was no doubt. Something had changed in him. He felt drawn to the peace of the Druid's Glen. Even Lilin and Kelenthor stated he was sounding much like a Druid. He shook his head and tried to clear it.

    His lord was blessing him with more spells that was obvious, but what did Lilin and Kelenthor mean when they said he was speaking in tongues? He felt at ease in the woods more so than ever. Was this the new path that was opening before him? He was so confused. There were other things to deal with first, his mind was calm and at ease, but his heart still weighed heavily.

    Cike looked about for the first time finding himself in the woods near the Druid's Glen. When did he …

    He was there already he might as well go in he thought to himself. He stepped in as the wind swept at his back. Inside however the wind had died to a gentle breeze and the sun shone brightly through golden columns through the holes in the canopy. A few leaves fell lightly as the wind brushed them about in an intricate dance before his eyes. He patted down a spot in the grass and lay down, his mind drifting into calm serenity.

    He thought back not long ago as he lay in the very spot with Lilin. His heart eased and he slept peacefully in the Glen.


  • November 3rd

    He wanted to scream at them, to yell, to kick, to break, to run. It was too much. What knew they of his pain? Could they guarantee the weight on his heart, the thoughts in his head, would go away? Was it so easy to forget love? Who were they to say he was wrong? He would die anyway why not spill a bit of blood now? Why not?

    But he didn’t. The words, the anger, the pain; crawled deeper into him hiding. It allowed the logic and love to wash over the body but it would return. Always it returned, when he was alone, when the weight in his heart was greatest.

    The clouds were dark and snow fell in sheets and he nestled beside a hollow tree. The bark gave off a musky rotting smell and he could feel the worms and insects turn away from his body's warmth burrowing deeper, and excavating the dead wood. He pulled his hood lower, and welcomed the darkness.

    The snow fell collecting all around him his blood staining it a ruddy brown about him. The cold dulled the pain but he concentrated on it none the less. Who were they to say it did not ease the pain? Who were they to say it did not help. Of course he would not yell at them, he loved them. Of course he did not wish to see them worry over him. He knew they didn’t want him to hurt. But it was his burden.

    Vine, Lilin, Amalia, Drelan; he could not burden them, they knew his pain surely but he could not, he would not. What would his words be but emptiness and hypocrisy?

    He sighed and dug deeper into the hollow, the wood crunched and crumbled, but a particular sturdy piece refused to give, piercing into one of his oozing gashes. He winced, and then turned his mind to the pain. It hurt, a lot, yet didn’t.

    It was all he could do, one pain to replace another.

    Of course he had no wish to die. He knew the pain and grief he would cause. He was not worthy; he knew it, why could they not see it? If they knew the true him, the coward within, his madness, his uselessness, then they would turn their backs truly they would.

    He heard crunching approach and a sneeze, his hand rested lightly on his sword as he peeked from within the hollow. As his cheek brushed the rotting wood, bits flaked off rubbing into his skin. A wet tongue smelling of raw meat drooled a path from his chin to his forehead in short bursts. He smiled lightly and hugged Kell bringing her into the hollow.

    He crumpled down amid the rotting wood and dead leaves and hugged her. She calmly let Cike bury his face in her fur uttering not a sound licking lightly at his hair. He muttered into her fine coat pronouncing her a silly wolf. The silliest silly wolf in all of Narfell.

    He finally cried clutching at Kell in great sobs his tears absorbing into her thick winter coat as she rested her head atop his.

    When would this pain go? When does the hurting stop? He listened, counting his slow monotonous heart beats and wondered how many he had before the end.


  • November 1st

    He returned to the den still numb. He looked about the emptyness encroaching in on him. He didn't know why he came back, perhaps he sought the comfort of his family. But none were present and he was glad for it. He would not have to explain the various cuts and gashes on his body. Nor why he felt nothing. He had no right to burden them with this, especially Vine. He dropped his pack on the ground and from the shadows stired a whining.

    Kell bumped into him and started to lick his wounds. He lightly patted her head and started to climb the ridge compelled to check on something. As he suspected all were dead. It was alright, he was growing them to gift Sil, he wanted to shower her room with the lovely blue flowers that matched her beautiful eyes. He even asked Wog to help him sneak into the Legion hall to do it. There was something almost poetic that they should all be dead.

    He knelt sifting over the dead flowers a sad smile on his face. They were much like him. He was a weak and short lived flower in the shadow of a giant Redwood that was Sil. He kicked weakly at the ground dispersing some of the dead flowers covering others with dirt. As he turned away something caught his eye.

    He bent low and brushed away some of the dead stems and flowers finding one still firmly planted and alive. It sprouted alone and resliliant regardless of his neglect. He lightly touched the flower's soft petals. He smiled warmly and his mind was calmed. Part of him didn't care, wanted to walk away and leave it to its eventual death, to follow the flower into oblivion, to crush it and end its misery and hardships. But as he gazed at it, the delecate and simple flower, he wished to nurture it, to hope.

    He muttered a soft prayer to Nobanion to watch over the flower, and walked away.


  • October 27th

    She was his first his love, his light. She would always be his light. But what happens when the light leaves?

    The sun was bright and warm as he lay on the ridge overlooking the Nars, but he felt none of it; only a bitter cold numbness around his body, with a heavy weight on his chest. It was best this way. He would have to keep repeating those empty words.

    She had told him that she didn't want to hurt anymore. Of course he would do whatever was needed to keep her from hurting. But he could not change fact or race. He was Human and she was Elf. Eluriel, Sul'lina, even Tala warned him, but he headed them not.

    The days would pass and Cike would age, and continue to age as she stayed young and beautiful. Or he would die, again tearing a part of her heart. Cike had already felt this, knew it was coming but he didn't know it would hurt this bad. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to leave her, he didn't want to hurt her.

    He had nodded slowly his whole body numb. Her face was so beautiful, her hair perfect. They stood there what seemed to be an eternity out by the lake. She kissed him on the cheek but he didn't feel a thing, barely heard the sound. And she left. He would not hurt her. He would live with this pain for however long it would take but he would hurt her no longer. He already hurt her so much, he just never saw it. She saw it, his age each month, every day, each second; and it hurt.

    He looked up past the clouds, past the blue, past the heavenly bodies; wishing upon wish that he could have been Elven. Praying for Nobanion to bless him and change him, to grant him life as long as hers.

    He laid there on the warm ground the blades of grass kissing his skin but felt nothing. He just lay there time passing him by, his human life growing shorter and shorter.


  • October 27th

    He checked his plot of land constantly. For the most part he prayed and let nature take its course his nudge done when he tilled the land. He wished not to disturbe the land any more than he already did. Every now and again however he would Pray to Nobanion and bless the area to protect it from a harsh or cold day.

    It wasn't long before some green started to sprout from the dark brown earth. He smiled and sat down next to the plot and just watched the wonder of growth and nature; his heart at ease and his mind clear. Kell came up and sniffed at the plot curious to her companions actions over the past few weeks.

    Cike called her over and cradled the Excitable wolf to him. Her heart pounded against his, as he whispered to Kell. They sat in silence then and enjoyed the day. Snow started to fall lightly though not a flake touched the garden. Kell rose from Cike to catch them on her tongue.

    He smiled and watched her for a while before laying on his back to watch the snow fall from the heavens. It swerled and danced in a kelidescope of flurrys sometimes landing before his eyes sometimes dodging just in time to kiss his cheek. There was a stillness of sound in the air as the wind blew gently, nither hindering nor aiding the snowfall. Birds hid in thier nests huddling close as badged burrowed for warmth in the ground. He folded his hands and rested his head on them. The cold did not bother him as much as it had, the thought of bringing his hood up did not even occure to him.

    A fine layer had collected on him by the time he finally rose looking back once more at the plot of land its brown soil compleatly unawear of the harsh climate around it. He wiped at his face clearing the snow and started to rub the numbness away. He sighed a bit as a thought came to his mind, time was so short for him, how he longed to be an Elf and see the true beauty of the forest.

    He smiled slightly and looked again to his garden, he would have to content himself with these, and he was alright with it.


  • October 26th

    Part of him doubted himself, another part was so assured, and grew stronger with each thrust of his hand into the soft earth. He tilled it browning his hands and sometimes cutting them as they brushed against sharp pebbles and rocks. The wind whipped his hair up on the Den's Ridge but he worked through it, sweat pouring from his face running down his chest to stain his shirt.

    Kell had already grown tired of this new game and sat near Mathewson silently watching Cike quizical of his actions. It was more of an ugre a thought after he had returned from the Elven Encampment, but since his death the feeling was stronger. It pushed at his thoughts and consumed his sleep.

    In the dark of night the moon waxing full, he walked the long trek from the Den to the Norwick Graveyard. Tond was up as always and looked up at Cike quizically. Bringing out his pouch Cike made his order quickly and Tond went off to fill it. He paced the graveyard, waiting patiently, not even a fear or itch from his scared arms as he passed each stone, each marker.

    A night owl hooted above him as he knelt before a grave stone overrun with a beautiful orange flower whose vines wrapt around the stone clutching it tightly sprouting from the grave. He moved to remove the growth to clean and allow the name to show but paused as his hand brushed the flowers. He let its texture play arcoss his finger tips feeling the light dusting of pollen; stirred about and back on itself by the wind.

    The Owl hooted again as Tond aproached a hefty sack in his hands. Cike took it smiling and moved to leave but paused a moment to ask why Tond did not clean off that particular stone. He smiled and told Cike he was getting on in age and there were so many. The truth however was that the child who unfortunatly died due to a harsh winter cold loved those flowers regardless of how encroaching the vines were.

    Cike smiled and left Tond to his graveyard. He set to work early that morning barely greating the other Wolves as they gathered around the fire or emerged from the inner den. Pausing only to ask Philomena about her garden and advise, he continued his labors tirelessly.

    The seeding brought back warm memories of his first days in Narfell planting with Eluriel. He sighed slightly knowing that he would never live to see the beauty of those trees he seeded with Eluriel but there was an odd warm feeling, a light thought and smile crept through on his face with the knowledge that life indeed would go on after him.

    He smiled warmly and plunged another hand into the warm soil.


  • October 25th

    The arrow hit the target with a dull thud. He sighed his quiver compleatly emptied his hand throbing. The Targets were little more than a pin cushion but Cike had kept track of each arrow as it hit and especially as it missed. He looked down at his throbing right hand and flexed it. He sighed again, his aim was off; weaker.

    Kell was entertaining herself again by headbutting Mathewson until the old wolf grew annoyed and snapped at her. Cike smiled at her and thanked Nobanion he still had her and Sil. He stretched out and fell into the grass the green blades carressing his cheaks as a few reached for the sky from the corner of his eyes.

    A gentle breeze blew over him stirring the grass to kiss his cheeks. He smiled and reveled in the bird calls, a song in thier own right, and let his mind wander. Up above the clouds broke with the breeze the sun beaming down to bake Cike's skin as he lay in the grass.

    This death was much different than any other. He returned with more knowledge than he had learned in all his time in Narfell, or perhaps he did not, but his mind was working in a different way. Something certainly changed. He remembered the skelleton as he waited, and he even retained much of his memory upon waking from the floor of Vorka's healing house. Sil emedatly filled his mind as did his brother and Miss Lyte, the last he knew he knew, but could not grasp his name.

    He had flipped through his book afterwards and easily started to remember everyone. Perhaps it was the doing of skelleton. If so there was more he had to trust in his words. He wished it was not so but began to accept it.

    He pushed those thoughts aside as a cloud came across the sun, a light drizzle started to fall and pat against Cikes face. He closed his eyes and let it soak his hair and clothes. He knew it would not pass for a while but he stayed letting the rain fall upon him. The bird's hushed taking cover from the rain and all was replaced by the gentle patting of the rain, a song in its own right.

    He picked one of the rain sweetened blades and began to chew it. It tasted sweeter then he had ever noticed. Something had changed within him. He was on a new path now. What was that path he wondered his mind lightly touching on the words of the Skelleton, and of Amalia and Vine's words, and finally to thoughts of Sil.

    He was on a new path now.


  • October 24th

    The sun shown brightly and warmed his face as he steped from the Den. Kell happily dashed out jumping into the new fallen snow on the Nars Pass. A few Eastland Falcons flew over head and Cike could see out of the corner of his eyes the shift of a shadow that could only be a Cutpurse. He ignored them and walked south.

    Kell followed especially docile today, without a glimer of want to tackle Cike. He sighed happily for this moment of tranquility and prayed for this little bit that no one else he knew would show up. Kell had a habit of shifing into high exitability when there were others. He was safe as long as he avoided the main road and took a round about way to the Rawlins.

    The snow crunched underfoot and was a white shining blanket across all the nars. Snow crystals caught the noon sun making it shimmer with each step, until Kell crashed deep toughs through it. She would turn to Cike for his aproval, and he would only sigh for the lost image. He knew it would return, it was always snowing and cold this far north, but still.

    He paused before the north gate of Norwick and lead Kell to the side towards the graveyard. It was quiet for a Narfell afternoon, but then Cike wasn't seeking noise or adventure. Kell, tired out from her romp in the snow obediantly followed Cike into the foul smelling Graveyard. She sneezed as they entered but Cike just patted her on the head reasuring her that thier stay would not be long and he sought no Undead this day.

    Tond smiled as he approached an armful of flowers fresh as any spring day. Cike smiled and began pulling a small pouch of coins out. "Ah sir Tond truly I wonder if not you were ment to be a child of the woods rather then a grave keeper."

    Tond just smiled and accepted the coin. Cike wished him well and Kell added in a bark and they both departed the grave heading south towards the rawlins. The clouds darkened a little, and for a moment Cike worried the perfect day was going to become downcast with rain. Passing the south gate he was relieved as a light sun shower pelted his hood and Kell's fine coat.

    Kell shook sending spatters of water at Cike but he continued on into the tree cover. Just as his feet touched dried and dead branches the shower ended leaving a fine musk smell rising from the forest floor. This far south the tree cannopy kept the constant snow from the ground leaving fresh browned leaves on the floor always. Alive in its own right; with bugs and bandgers burrowing just under the ground beyond the eye's sight.

    He smiled taking in a deep breath and patted Kell on the head issuing them on. Shafts of light broke through the treetops in long golden columns dust and bugs weaving between them as a few flakes broke through the cannopy to melt away and drip upon the dry leaves below. Birds and bees buzzed about and the Rawlins seemed a compleatly different land compared to the snow covered hills of the Nars pass. Kell dug a bit here and there her wolf curiosity begging her to find a bone.

    Her head raised quickly and she uttered a low growl as the musky smell of dirty goblins met her sensitve nose. Cike nodded and kept his hand fingering his long sword. He patted her on the side and urged her on. They were not hunting, not today. Kell whined, wishing to unleash her fury on those that took her mother and brother when she was but a cub, but Cike calmed her. There would be hunts later, not today.

    They continued south the crunching of leaves beneath thier feet and the occational Goblin shortie running in fear at the angry looking wolf. Cike lead the way Kell trailing slightly behind dragging her paws still upset at the Goblins walking alive and still breathing. They broke through into a clearing with sparse trees the area remenicant of his home forest. A Deer roamed just out of bowshot a badger beyond making a borrow. Birds chirpped then scattered at his aproach and his feet touched charred ground.

    Here the forest was quietest. Even the trees seemed to pay respect swaying little while others tended thier burnt bark in quiet solitude. A long slow healing that would take generations and Cike would never see its full beauty in his lifetime. Kell found a large rock that seemed perfectly possioned underneath a sun beam. She baked her fine fur laying spayed out letting the dust of the forest settle on her beautiful coat.

    Cike smiled then continued past the broken and battered doors. Graves speckled the area and many of the hollowed out trees that were homes lay gaping open thier doors burned or broken to bits. Something crunched underfoot and Cike paused. He bent down and brushed at the dirt and leaves pulling from the soft earth a box. Within some jacks and a ball, a small wooden top, and leaves. A squarel or badger had gotten to it before Cike, gnaw marks lined the edges and whatever sweetness that emenated from the box was surely resting in the stomach of said animal.

    He sighed and plunged his hand deep into the soft earth digging out a deeper hole. He placed the box in then shoveled the dirt carefully over it offering a prayer.

    Cike continued onward till he was in the center of the encampment. The wind was still but there was no smell of death or decay or even of evil. He closed his eyes and began to breath in deeply his mind wandering to the time he had spent in the camp. His thoughts and memories, his hopes of becoming accepted here. The looks, the distrust of the Elves as he walked amongst them. Of Lyte as they sat about a fire speaking of Grag, of heros like Sam and his hill, of the Defiler. Of his Older sister Sul'lina who did suggest he become a Wolf of Narfell in this very camp to Ohtar leader of the pack.

    He smiled and bowed his head to the fallen praying to his lord and honoring those lost. He rested the Flowers on the ground and took one last look around. Closing his eyes and senses, laughter filled his mind. Elven children ran about hidding behind this tree and that, another youth strummed a lute in the crutch of a hollow of a tree, as a midwife cooked a hearty broth over an open flame, and the guards by the gate looked hungrally as thier shift toiled longer. Summer rays sifted through lighting this clearing, the sounds of laughter filling and echoing amongst the trees.

    Cike opened his eyes and ears to the silence around him and sighed picking up his feet and rejoining Kell as she finished grooming her paws. She had caught something in the intermediate time and Cike was in no mood to guess what it had been. She hopped off and joined him at his side rubbing up against him sensing his mood. He smiled and patted her on the head scratching in between her ears.

    Togeather they walked back towards home. Leaving the stillness of the forest behind them.


  • October 23ed

    Guilt started to eat at his mind again. But there was a new light. Shining away the darkness. The words of Vine and Amalia cut through and began to battle his thoughts. The doubt and guild dissapated. Amalia was right he could not let his mind control his actions, nor let it hold back his love for Sil.

    He rose and dusted his pants off. He made the long quiet journey to Peltarch. Sil had not been in Jiyyd in so long and he had been told she was in Peltarch. He rapped lightly on the doors to the bardic college and inquired within where his beloved was.

    He was lead to her chambers but found her not there. Confused Cike surveyed the room a bit. Piles and stacks of paper lay everywhere some crumpled in the corner others haphazardly writen on. He smiled warmly this time from the heart. Sil was moving forward and his thoughts of guilt, his need for her comfort would only bring her down.

    "She needs this not," He thought to himself as he replaced a heavy tome on her bed. Assured Cike knew he had to work hard as well. Amalia's words rung in his head once more and he knew he had to hunt to become a man Sil could depend on. He did not know when it happened but it did. Sil had become his light and from that he depended on her too much. She could not support his demons, he must do that himself.

    The thought of Sil Possessed by a Demon struck his mind harshly, a burning elven encampment and the contorted face of his lover in fury. His head throbed then and the sound logic of his brother Vine resounded in his head. He would not have been able to stop the Demon from taking Sil, and more would her pain be if he had died at her hands. Cike inhaled and calmly shut the door. The darkness had passed.

    He left the stone cold walls of Peltarch and strung his bow carefully.


  • October 14th

    He gazed into the pool. It was early morning and the fresh dew collected there was like a perfect mirror. Kell watched on curiously as her companion contorted his face.

    Smile.

    Sil was starting to worry. He had let the darkness reflect too much. He had to practice once again. He imagined something nice said and then smiled weakly into the pool. It was good enough but he saw flaws. Even Vine would be able to tell something was wrong. He tried again this time imagining Sil kissing him.

    He smiled warmly and from the soul this time. And then the guilt took hold again. He couldn't use that, it hurt too much. He sighed and looked into the pool once more to gaze at the pathetic human before him. Dark bags under his eyes with lines of worry etched into his brow. White hair hung loosely underneath the hood.

    He practiced again his mask, pushing aside the guilt. Let it eat his insides let it prod his mind, no one must know. He smiled into the pool until he was satisfied, and then turned to Kell. She raised her head and cocked her head to the side in bewilderment. He smiled warmly at the excitable wolf and she barked happily. He nodded and rose from the shallow pool, Kell already making her way back to the Den.

    He took one last look at the haggard face in the pool then stomped on it water splashing everywhere. Pulling his hood lower he followed after Kell. The sun broke through the clouds but it did nothing to warm him.


  • October 13th

    He couldn't understand. He checked again to see if he was reading the tracks again and there was no mistake. He followed the wolf prints in the snow despite the cold wind. It was too obvious, as if she wasn't trying to hide her tracks.

    Pulling his hood lower he checked again. A snapped branch here and another print there: still heading north. He shivered as another gust pounded into him. He gritted his teeth and began to regret choosing this day.

    He knew he was forgetting something, he knew he was weaker. That was to be expected when one returned. He had to know how much and pressed on. She could not be further ahead. The trees grew sparser and he could see the rise of small snow covered hills around him. He paused a moment to gather his bearings. Closer and closer to Peltarch. He was not fond of the stone City and thought she would not enjoy it as well, why did she thus?

    He repeated his question over and over to keep the cold from his mind. The tracks split, suddenly and he bent down to examine each set. She was clever but could not completely hide the extra snow moved when back tracking her own steps. He quickly picked up his pace and followed her correct trail. This must have set her back some time which meant he had a chance to catch up. The hill rose quickly beside him to the left as he followed the tracks. Concentrating ahead he could almost smell her in the wind, she was not far ahead.

    He stopped. Baffled.

    The tracks just ended. He looked about confused. He glanced up, the hill was too steep to climb, and the trees around him could not hide her. There was a small hole by the side of the hill but it could not be home to more than a badger. He scratched his head in bewilderment and leaned against the rock face of the hill. She had truly stumped him.

    Warm. At first he thought it was a heavy clump of snow but then he felt it bled into his hood and warm his head. He reached up to touch the oozy drool in bewilderment, before looking up as a glob fell onto his face warming the numbness away. He wiped at it quickly grating his teeth and peered up again as Kell panted happily drooling on him from the top of the rock face.

    He barely had time to utter a how before she leapt from the top landing squarely on him winding him as the wind howled from above. After pushing the heavy wolf from atop him Kell led him to where her tracks split a third time. He did not realize she had backtracked twice over to make it more obvious of the false trail, thus making the one she wished him to follow more acceptable and appealing to follow. Her other trail was a good mark from the split, because he concentrated on the obvious split before him he failed to notice the third.

    He congratulated Kell ruffling the fur between her ears. Kell had won.


  • October 12

    Kell was resting her head in his lap. The Den's fire crackled as he gazed into the glowing embers of the fire, watching them rise up into the night sky. He could feel the drool begin to seep into his pants but he didn't care. Darkness was enshrouding his heart again and squeezing it.

    He glared into the fire and tried to push the feelings away. He didn't even hear his brother approach. He barely even registered his question. He shook his head gently. It was too soon. His death was still fresh in his mind.

    Sensing his feelings Kell raised her head and whined licking lightly at Cike's face. He smiled his hollow smile to Kell and his brother patting her on her head to calm her. Vine shrugged and made to leave but halted suddenly his back to his brother.

    He winced as the words flowed out in harsh elven, and his head began to throb almost in anticipation. He hastily dismissed his brother and tried to calm him. Satisfied or not he left and Cike returned his gaze to the fires. He smiled slightly his brother's concern however harsh as it was rested warmly near his heart as he watched a butterfly wander dangerously close to the flames.

    He watched lazily, as a passing fancy crept into his mind diverting the darkness encircling his heart.

    Light as air, without a care,
    Floating by, in the deep blue sky.

    A smile crept to his face as a comment rose in his memory. Perhaps he was spending too much time with Sil.

    Sil.

    That was all it really needed a happy memory of them both, her name, a gift; and it easily crept in and tugged at his mind deviously. Dark, murky, and painful, it swam in his mind and circled his heart.

    He felt a pinch at his thigh suddenly and all thought ceased. He looked down into the pleading eyes of Kell as she let out another low whine. He sighed and ruffled the fur between her ears and leaned down to kiss his companion. He leaned back and relaxed trying not to think.

    But it was so hard.


  • October 8th

    The inn was not familiar to him. None of it was. He scanned his memory but found nothing. Rummaging through the pack they said was his he pulled out the leather bound journal, his only Clue to himself. It was dirt covered and felt as if the weather of the world pounded it relentlessly.

    The first pages brought back feelings of ineptitude and hard work. Yes it had taken a long time and still did to write. He read carefully and slowly trying to remember.

    "Sil" He read her name out loud and touched the word hesitantly as if it would call her fourth. Warmth touched his heart and tugged harshly on it. He was flooded with the feeling of love, as he read the words inscribed next to her name. It was lovely, amazing, like the warm glowing light of a flame. He didn't want it to end.

    But…

    But something tugged on his heart as well. He didn't know what it was, he still couldn’t remember what she looked like, a hazy image swam in his head but the more he forced it the more it would blur. Time would show him this light, this love he had for this woman Sil. But something else was there, hiding in the dark recess of his mind. Something was telling him something. Something he shouldn’t forget, something he should feel.

    Guilt.

    He clutched at his chest and doubled over, as a wave of sadness and anguish came over him. He was confused but felt right. It felt necessary; he felt deserving of this feeling. Burying his face into the bed's pillow he cried out a dull moan, interrupted by sobbing. It burned in his mind, and would refuse to let go. Regret seeped into him to remind him. His head throbbed and for a brief moment he wondered if he really wished for his memories to return. If he was not better off as a clean slate free from this feeling of pain and guilt.

    As if answering his plight, as if coming from where ever his mind had slipped during his death, memories started to surface. His past fell before him and he shook upon the bed reliving moment for moment his experiences, his loss, his madness, his love, his death, everything.

    He gazed up at the ceiling his mind throbbed with all that he was. It was there, jumbled as it was but that was what the journal was for. He would look at it later read and remember. He was tired and wished to rest but he remembered the Lich, the nightmares, it would be a restless night.

    He closed his eyes, a warm tear escaping and tracing a path down his face and resting in his ear. He exhaled deeply in a sigh, "Sil," and let the guilt consume him.