Journey Into the North

Carmenia jumped at the sound of someone shouting. It was just a nightmare. She settled back in and stared at the dying embers of the fire. Glancing over at Finn, she looked at the neatly plaited hair and sighed, mentally patting herself on the back for a job well done. Finn look ten times better, for her hair was now one of her best features.

Turning over, Carmenia pondered everything that had happened recently. She shook her head when she thought of the murders that had taken place. What had those fellow Elves done to deserve death? She shook her head again. It was unnecessary, and she blamed mainly Valin for allowing and taking place in it. She would definitely keep an eye on him.

Tired and exhausted, she closed her eyes and willed sleep to come. Eventually it did, softly covering her like a fleecy blanket.

OOC: I'm fairly sure it's not your Father Valin killed, Carmenia.

OOC: Oh. But I thought...never mind. *blushes* Sorry. I'm editing the post now.

Adrian looked down at the bodies of the slain elves and shivered. Why had no one stopped them. Sedgeley wasn't far. He was sure wouldn't take too long to get their. He looked around at everyone not one had tried to stop Seraph or Valin. He couldn't belong to a group that cared only of vengence. It had been his father who had persauded him too join the quest.

Adrian sighed. It was sad he was getting used to everyone. He had been saved by Henry. Learnt never to try steal a dwarf lorae. He had saved Sirloaz an healed Henry.

He was a Paladin who was pure good. Yet he had did nothing to stop Seraph or Valin. This was worrying him most, he watched them both be slaughtered. One had begged to live. How could people get so cold? Adrian shivered

He'd walk to Sedgeley and leave the group, it wasn't far. Adrian picked his knack sack up, checked his sword was in his scabbard and headed into the darkness. Not looking back.

When my eyes snapped open and it was morning, I knew something was wrong. Adrian should have woken me up for fifth watch. I pulled myself to my feet and looked around the camp for the damned paladin. If he had falen asleep on duty, Falthyr help him!

But the young man was nowhere to be seen. His traveling pack was gone, as was his bedroll and his sword belt. It was as if the paladin had never been there in the first place.

I quickly woke up Valin.

"The paladin is gone," was all I said.

He looked around, instantly awake, and said: "So he is. Oh well, right? We're still alive, and that's what counts."

I nodded and stretched.

"Better get them up--we head out soon," Valin said.

I walked over to Finn and shook her gently. She mumbled something and turned over. I tried not to noticed how soft her hair looked, and how peaceful her expression was.

"We leave in the hour, Finn." At my voice, she started, then snapped her eyes open.

"I 'eard yeh alrigh'? I'm 'wake." I nodded, stood up, and walked over to the next person down the line--Carmenia.

Roughly an hour later we were ready to leave. Everyone had noticed the absence of Adrian, but there was no sign of a struggle, no drag marks, and no blood. He had left of his own will. We could not force him to travel with us. And I had expected his cowardly ways would catch up to him eventually.

I let Finn take point. If the elf was speaking the truth...Sedgeley no longer existed. I looked back to Valin, who was leading our captive by a short length of rope.

"That way...t'the Blackwodes," she said, pointing. And we were off.

(This won't interfere with your post, Fand ... it'll be just when we're leaving camp.)

Henry picked up his things: the worn backpack which he strapped to his shoulders, the crossbow which he attached to his belt, on the other side he knotted in the scabbard holding his short sword.

Carmenia was stood beside him. "Want some water?" she asked, smiling.

"Sure," Henry said, and gladly took the small cup she offered, gulping it down quickly. He burped, and blushed uncomfortably. "Sorry."

She laughed.

"Um, Carmenia?" Henry asked, knowing the events of last night must be playing on her mind, and wondering how she kept it so hidden. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine! Just fine!" Carmenia said, still smiling, although it was almost a grimace, Henry noted.

"If ye sure, lass. 'Member, we're in this together, yeah? Now I don't know ye, and ye don't know me, but that dunt mean we can't talk, right?"

"That's kind of you, Henry," Carmenia said, before turning away. She glanced back. "I'll remember that."

Henry heard Seraph calling the party together. Finn took point, and they left camp.

We should have reached Sedgeley a little after midday; the quickest way there would be clear this time of year, and the fact that we no longer had the horses would have been no burden as in a few places the paths were too treacherous for anything much bulkier than mountain-bred mules. But with so many of the party still recovering from their various wounds—myself included, as I still needed Carmenia to take some of my weight in order to move comfortably—those paths were out of the question. The main roads didn’t go the whole way to Sedgeley, and were too roundabout to be of much use, anyway…. In the end, I decided on an improvised path similar to the one that brought me out of the Blackwodes and to the logging camp in the first place. It was short enough that we should reach Sedgeley by nightfall, but an easy enough journey not to cause any strain, especially on Tan’Quin, who had finally woken up but wasn’t doing incredibly well.

It felt good to be back in the mountains; I could almost feel the stone beneath my feet reaching down into the earth, rather like Cyrus’ innate connection to his caverns. Soon I was passing familiar landmarks, and by the time the sun was swinging low in the sky, we were in the woods I’d played in for all my childhood.

I pause and looked back at the group. “A’most there!” I cried, a grin replacing my usual scowl. “T’night ye’ll be fed an’ bed’ well, lads.” I kept up a cheerful narrative the rest of the way, describing the town and its two inns, where they’d most likely find beds. Carmenia, I decided, could use the old cot back in my family’s home; she’d probably not want to be housed with some of the rougher types that tended to pass through Sedgeley. She gave me a few strange glances as my narrative continued, including one or two of her infuriating smiles; I s’pose I was acting a bit out of character. What could I say, though? Soon I’d be home, and there’d be an end to my adventuring, at least outside the Blackwodes. In under an hour, I’d be back with Liam.

If I hadn’t known these woods so well, I would never have known anything was wrong. We’d stopped not long before for a brief rest and to eat a little, so when I came to a standstill, eyes wide and peering around, Carmenia looked at me concernedly, as did Valin, who walked not far behind.

“Is something wrong, Finn?” he asked.

“Your ankle; is it hurting again?”

I shook my head and waved them both off with an irritable gesture. Suddenly the soft murmur of conversation between Henry and Cyrus, and the clink of armor seemed deafening. “Shuddup!” I hissed. “Don’ move! Le’ me think!” They obligingly froze, though I heard some grumbling—from Henry, probably. I unwound my arm from Carmenia’s and limped a few paces ahead, looking around and listening. Something wasn’t right… it wasn’t the sounds. Those were right. Wind, birds, the occasional sound of an animal moving through the undergrowth. I couldn’t see anything amiss, either.

A cool wind brushed across my face, and it struck me with horribly certainty. Smoke. I smelled smoke, and something much, much more horrible. I shouldn’t have been able to smell it this far out from town…

With a vehement curse, I staggered into something as close to a run as I could manage. The others followed, Valin shouting questions and Carmenia warnings against hurting my ankle more—but when we reached Sedgeley, any questioning stopped.

For a moment, I couldn’t move, or think, or—hell—even breathe. The smell was nauseating and the sight… as little love as I had for most of Sedgeley, this had been my home for my entire life. The people had been indifferent to me at best, cruel at worst—I still remembered that awful boy’s breath on my neck and his hands pinning me down—but… Cor, my family!

“Liam?” It escaped as a whimper, and then I was staggering into a run again, headed for the forge, which was closer than my family’s home. “Liam! Liam!”

Instead of a reply, I heard like a bizarre echo, “Heal! Heal!” What I found in the forge was nothing like what I’d expected—or hoped. Adrian, who I’d been sure had abandoned us, on his knees in the mud, his bloodied hands on the chest of an all-too-familiar, all-too-still figure.

I dropped to my knees beside them, pale and feeling so numb and dizzy with the smell of burnt flesh I was sure I would pass out. I’d always thought they were exaggerating when they spoke of dying of a broken heart before this, but with the pain and pressure in my chest right now was very, very real. “I’m sorry,” Adrian was whispering. “I’m so sorry… Heal!”

I just buried my face in my hands and wished that I would die quickly.

PLACEHOLDER

(OOC: What in the hell is with the swords, fontroy?)

(OOC: lol, Im going to agree with Sab there.)

*** Will be posting later today.

(OOC) OKay i'll fix it some how (OOC)

The smell and the smoke brought back memories hidden long ago, and Henry stumbled backwards with the sheer mental terror.

It was all the same.

The black smoke, the horrifying smell of burnt flesh, the broken buildings, the ravaged farmland.

It was like he was twelve years old again and the raiders had just come to his village, just murdered the townsfolk, just murdered his family, just killed the Priests and taken the sword and all while young Henry was playing alone in the woods.

Then he had seen the blood and then death, and he was forever changed.

He ignored whatever was happening to everyone else. He had drifted from reality to something else, his mind lifted from his conscious body. Tears flooded his eyes and his feet ran without his consent; Henry took off across the woods towards the borders of the utterly destroyed town of Sedgeley.

Where once there were outlying farms, there was nothing but black, broken crops and the strewn bodies of the labourers. He kept trying to tell himself that this was not Toxworth, this was not his village, but the scene was the same. He had no control ovr himself, and he ran through the remains of the town, running toward the centre, imagining he could make it to The Temple before the horsemen did ...

This is not Toxworth goddamnit! You are not twelve anymore!

But he kept running. Somewhere deep down knew he should have been there that day to save the Priests, to save his family from the surprise attack by Northern horsemen, but he had been out without his mother's consent, in the woods, pretending to be a warrior. His mother had been sick. Because he hadn't helped his father hide her and his sisters they had all died in their home.

It tore Henry apart to see the same things all over again.

His feet thudded against the cobbled town square, running past a fountain that held no water: nothing bubbled out. But he wasn't sure if it was Sedgeley's fountain or Toxworth's anymore, whether what he was seeing was the repressed memory of a struggling man or the reality of a twelve-year old boy; it was too confusing, too scary, and his head spun and spun until he was too dizzy.

He wasn't in control of his legs. He darted along the northern lane, knowing the marble steps of the Temple were just down the end.

It wasn't there.

His legs crumbled beneath him, and he sat, staring up at a burnt wooden building, still smoking. Bodies had been piled by the door, and the burning flesh crept into his nostrils.

The tears streamed down his face. The reality struck him. He had failed again. Whoever these people were, he had failed them.

Alden moved along at less than his usual pace. The jewel had grown gigantic. It was really begin to weigh on him.

"Alden, we should be coming near Sedgeley," the Lieutenent said.

"Thank you Lt. Smith," Alden replied.

"Is that smoke?" Alden asked.

"Probably a local fire," Smith said. Alden said nothing.

They broke through the forest into the clearing. They stopped.

Sedgeley lay below them in ruins.

"The others..." Alden gasped. The town was still burning. The image was too much. Years of experience took over.

"Lieutenent, sweep the area for survivors and clues. Smith and his men needed no encouragement, they galloped towards the wreckage. Alden led the horses towards the town.

He went along the streets. His eyes wandered over the carnage. Another nameless body, burned beyond recognition. A lot of men had died here, probably where they gathered to defend the town.

One of them was small.

Probably just a kid, Alden thought. That's when everything came crashing down on Alden. He threw up on the scorched cobblestones.

When he finished, he heard some crying. He looked up. Henry was on the ground bawling.

Alden moved over towards him.

He only got about half way there, when the jewel became too much to bear.

He knelt down, and began to remove the jewel from the pouch. It was about the size of a watermelon he had once eaten.

He left it and went over to Henry.

"Henry?"

He didn't respond, but he looked towards Alden. His eyes said it all. They didn't say anything for a long while. Alden moved closer, Henry continued crying.

"Let's get away from here. Where are the others?" Alden said softly. Henry said nothing. Alden grabbed Henry's arm, and turned him away from the carnage. They began to go down the street.

CRACK

They whirled around. The jewel had fragmented. There was another sound, then another.

A claw reached through the cracks.

Henry barely heard the soft tone of Alden, or noticed when he was dragged along.

His eyes could only see the dead bodies -- they switched from unknowns to the bloody figures of his mother, father, and three sisters, left to rot in their simple home.

How could this happen again? How?

Something new broiled within Henry. No longer was the overridng emotion fear, or failure, it was something stronger ... something really strong.

Henry felt his blood pump and his heart beat fiercely.

He would avenge these poor people. And by doing that, he might make it for the failure to protect them and his family. He would stop hiding in the shadows, making a living out of dark deeds. He would find the people who did this and cut their throats.

He stopped crying, and wiped his eyes. The anger had made him regain the thread of reality, so tenuous, and regain his senses. He was sat by the frozen figure of Alden, who was watching something extraordinary.

Henry stood up but froze.

A small Gryphon was breaking out of a shell.