Chapter Four Scene Three
For a long while, an elusive silence reigned. In due course, Aedomir turned back to the wound. Once, a dark shape had been engraved there, but now, it was merely an oozing pool. “You didn’t need to do that,” he growled through clenched teeth.
“I can’t take that chance,” replied Seridon “besides at least I’m at risk from him anymore.”
“Maybe not, but you will be as much danger to yourself if you continue like this.”
Seridon ignored him and ushered away his hand. We should set up a camp and light a fire. We have travelled enough this day.”
“It isn’t dusk yet!”
“No, but it nears. The shadows of twilight see many creatures loom from them.” Seridon gestured to a peninsula in the lake, around two thousands paces away at a guessing. The fog had finally passed, and only now did Aedomir finally realise where they stood.
The coastlines of the Lake of Mallari had seen a new change since Aedomir’s steps neared the waters. The withered horse followed the others patiently, but a radiance of exhaustion clearly shined through. As they neared the small clearing, a grumble moaned in Aedomir’s stomach. What was the last thing he ate? When was the last time he ate? No memory of taste or recollection of smell kindled in his sombre heart.
That was until a foul stench violently shot into his nostrils and forced his feet to an abrupt stop in the straw grass. A wailing cry followed in its echo and stiffened the hair on Aedomir’s neck.
“The lake,” Seridon said, after noticing Aedomir’s sudden break. He spoke as if it cleared everything. Bit it didn’t. Aedomir began to realise that with Seridon. Riddles were all he knew, that’s all he spoke of.
Aedomir tried to hurry on, and repent for his hinder. The stench passed, and no more cries were to be heard that night. The tales of the waters seemed to breathe truth then: ‘For a traveller of yonder, Will Mallari fall asunder’. Aedomir had always believed that it meant the Lake would ‘open up’ to those like him, but perhaps it just unleashed anger at him, warding him off.
He had come to the lake once, many a time ago. He didn’t want to know everything about the lake. Its mystery and its beauty only added to the splendour. Times had changed though, and there was no room for the past in these waters.
Once they reached the peninsula, they gathered some wood and lit a fire. Embracing warmth leapt high from its core, and filled the clearing with a blazing glow. Hunger; they both felt it. But what could they do? The lake, as Seridon had been quick to add, was not to be trifled with. Aedomir promised himself that he would find some food as soon as dawn broke.
By then, the swelling moon had risen into the cloudless sky. Twilight had passed, and a cool air had signalled the night; it would be a bitter one. He kept thinking about everything, the unsleeping anger at the back of his mind.
One thousand years, gone. Through the blink of an eyelid. He shook his head and discarded the thought, or at least, he had hoped so. It just plundered around, as if a sudden eruption after a dormant lifetime, never resting, always haunting.
The two travellers sat by the fire, Seridon repeatedly refusing Aedomir’s offer to treat his wound. Instead, he would just gaze into the calm water, thinking.
#
What am I doing? Seridon thought to himself. He guessed he just owed the exile. But what for? It wasn’t his fault, after all. He didn’t want the… scum to break into the land like that, killing innocents. Quite the opposite, he fought them.
Thoughts raced through his mind, pillaging as they went. Aedomir was not nearly as horrified as Seridon had expected, too much was amiss with him; hiding in reclusion, questioning anything and everything. However, Aedomir knew more than he thought.
There was just the case of getting it out…
