Spoiler
In case you're coming upon this suddenly with no idea what's happened so far, this character has not been introduced and you aren't missing anything of the past with this chapter. I have so far not focused on one character for longer than one chapter.
There was pollen in the air that day; more than usual at the time of year. I started out my walk with only a few possessions and started off down the road. In a little while, I started tearing up and I had to stop and find something in my knapsack to wipe my eyes.
"Crap." I muttered, noticing the haze in the air for the first time. I'd always been allergic to pollen, so I'd chosen this month for travelling because there wasn't supposed to be any pollen. I'd already made arrangements in town, though, and I was anxious to make a good first impression on my new boss. Never mind that that impression would undoubtedly be snot-nosed and dull-witted.
So i soldiered on, albeit slower than usual, and turned in early under a maple tree. The sunlight was overwhelmed with landmass and gradually disappeared amidst the trees and mountains in the distance. The moon lifted itself off the water, then another moon followed suit. As I drifted into sleep I thought, only two moons tonight; that's probably a bad omen.
As it turned out, the night passed without a single shriek in the night or attempt on my life, so I set off the next morning well-rested and, with the exception of being slightly groggy, happy.
The road was pretty nice for a pace, but after awhile it became rocky and hard; the product of trying to find a more permanent road medium which resulted in disaster. The road had been a solid black slab, but the constant small earthquakes that wracked the land had rendered it useless. now huge pieces of rubble jutted out of the ground at odd angles, making for an adventurous, if not ridiculously inconvenient, travelling experience for those mounted on horses.
I, however, navigated the rubble with relative ease, only finding trouble when a piece crumbled under my feet and pitched me forward. My leg struck stone and I lay on the ground whimpering and holding my knee to my chest. I didn't cry out; I'm in the habit of only making noises if I'm not actually in pain; I would, I'm sure, yell graciously when in pain were I not preoccupied with feeling miserable.
As I lay waiting for the agony to pass, a form obscured the sun. I could not make out much of the figure, but what I gathered was that it was tall, wore a long hooded cloak and carried a bowed walking staff.
"Greetings, traveler." I said, with slight difficulty, "I believe I will be quite alright; you need not trouble yourself."
The figure said nothing, but continued standing in the light. I began feeling cold and marveled at how absent was the warmth in the shade. Gradually, the pain in my leg reduced to a dull throbbing and I attempted to stand. The figure reached out a gloved hand to me and I grasped it gratefully. There was not much substance to the hand, but the grip was quite strong. As soon as I was up I discovered that it hurt to put weight on my leg.
I limped over to a tree and surveyed its prospects as a walking stick. It was very gnarly, twisting into odd curls and twists. I'd probably be mistaken for a magician at the first town I came to. Nevertheless, I liked the width of the tree and it would undoubtedly fit easily in my hand after I shaved the bark off. I took out my short sword and began chopping. After I'd broken through the wood I felt like someone was watching me.
I turned and noticed that the hooded figure was standing not far away, watching me. It was very still and had one arm hanging at its side while the other held its staff at arm's length.
I noticed that the top of the staff was splintered and sported a jagged edge as though something on the top had been forcibly removed somehow.
"What happened to your staff?" I asked, pointing to it.
The figure looked at the top of the staff as though noticing for the first time that it was broken. After observing this phenomenon for about a minute, the figure once again looked at me. I waited expectantly and the figure's left arm eventually was extended. Its hand curled and its index finger extended. It held this pose for a good long time before I realized I should look where it was pointing.
I took my tree and experimentally started walking with it. It worked passably well, but the branches were a tad annoying. I could walk, however, and I walked in the direction the figure indicated.
The first thing I saw was the horse. It was lying on its side in the midst of a particularly bad portion of the road. Its legs were bent askew and its hooves were horribly cracked. This horse would never walk again. It was still alive, though breathing shallowly. It looked like it had been a fine horse before it fell; it was well-groomed and its teeth looked nice.
A ways off from the horse was a large piece of stone with a hole in it. I tried pulling it from the dirt, but it was either too heavy or there was a part of it that was buried.
The hooded figure reached down a hand to pull it out and I let out a small squeak of surprise; I had not heard the figure and up 'til that moment I'd assumed it was still standing back where it had been.
The figure hesitated, then gave me its staff. I took it mutely and let the figure have my tree. The figure tore the branches from the tree and, with a small knife, cut the bark off quickly. In short order the tree ever more resembled a wizard's twisted staff and I giggled at the thought of the hooded figure carrying it around.
The figure paused its work and turned its head to me. I couldn't see facial features or, indeed, the basic shape of a face, in the blackness, but I could tell the figure was not particularly amused.
It tugged at the stone object, pulling it free from the dirt. I saw then that it was the head of a scythe and, in a sudden onset of panic, began backing away from the figure. The figure placed the scythe head upon the top of the tree and tapped it down so it set snugly. Then the figure brought its scythe up over its head. At that point I had backed into a tree and was watching from what I thought was a safe distance.
The scythe came down and the horse screamed in pain and terror. The figure hastily drew the scythe back in a sweeping motion and the head flew off.
I saw the humongous piece of stone flying towards me but I had no time to react before it buried itself in the tree trunk. I tried to run as the figure approached me, but I found that my hair was caught by the blade stuck in the tree. I looked up fearfully as the figure yanked the stone out and replaced it on its staff. The figure procured a small silver rope from a pocket and began binding the scythe head to the staff.
About the time the figure had finished I recalled that I had had every opportunity to run away and I'd simply forgotten to. The figure had a certain manner that was nonthreatening despite its fearsome appearance and I found myself hoping that we would be going in about the same direction.
The figure finished binding the scythe and I asked, "Where are you going, traveler?"
The figure pointed in the direction I was going.
"Would it be inconvenient if I traveled with you? I'm travelling alone, you see, and you look terribly intimidating with that humongous scythe."
The figure studied me for a minute, then appeared to sigh; its shoulders sagged and I heard something like a distant wind rushing over prairie grasses.
"It's alright if you don't; I talk a lot and you don't seem to talk at all."
The figure began shuffling off down the road. My heart sank. After a few paces the figure stopped and turned back to me. It pointed at something on the ground. I limped over to it and saw it was the figure's staff. I picked it up and saw the figure beckoning to me. I came to it and it transferred its scythe to its left hand. It offered its arm to me and I took it.
We started walking arm in arm. I felt awkward for a little while, so I said, "Thank you; you're a gentleman."
There was, naturally, no reply, but I think the figure ducked its head slightly.
I continued talking, "You know, that's a very impressive piece of stone you've got there. Did you carve it yourself or did someone give it to you?"
No reply. Not even a twitch. We kept walking, though, and after awhile I started talking again. I realized somewhere in the back of my mind I was totally dominating the conversation and, indeed, asking questions made absolutely no sense. However, the hooded figure didn't seem to mind and I figured I might as well pass the time somehow, so I babbled on and on happily, telling the figure all about my life at home and what I hoped to accomplish in Terrace.
The figure was undoubtedly bored out of its mind, but it never shrugged me off or tossed me into the bushes. When I thought of this possibility, My voice trailed off. This person, whoever it was, was extraordinarily strong to have been able to pluck the scythe blade from the dirt with such ease.
We stopped. The figure turned to me and cocked its head expectantly.
"Oh, well, I'm probably being a pest, aren't I?"
The figure shook its head.
"You want me to keep talking?"
Nod.
"What was i just talking about? I don't remember. Did I tell you about my pet mouse? The cat ate him, but he was a really nice mouse."
We resumed walking. By the time we reached a town my voice was hoarse, so I informed my companion of this and stopped talking.
We stopped at an inn to get food. I probably could've afforded a room as well, but I have never trusted inns; I prefer sleeping outside.
As soon as my companion and I entered the inn conversations began to cease. By the time we'd made it to the desk, the only sound I could hear was the faint patter of my feet on the floorboards. I found it slightly strange that I could not hear my companion's feet, but a good deal was odd about the person. I suppose I could ask about it later and receive no reply, as usual.
The innkeeper regarded us from a distance and asked, "Will you be staying the night, miss?"
"No, we just want food. If that's alright with you, I mean." I glanced at the hooded figure and took its impassiveness to mean that it was not greatly averse to sleeping outside.
"Thank God. Would you like some roast hog and soup?"
"I would," I said, then continued blithely, "but he'll have hash browns and some pancakes, if it's not too much trouble." After I'd said this, I realized that I really had no idea what my companion would like. I turned and was about to ask if the hooded figure wanted anything else, but instead of asking what it wanted to eat I found myself saying, "You're messing with my head."
I blinked a couple times, wondering what I meant by that. The figure just stood there gazing off across the counter. I shrugged and waited for the food to come.
We sat at a table in the middle of the room, which was alright aside from the stares from the other inn patrons. The hooded figure set its scythe on the floor and sat opposite me. I could feel its stare from beneath the hood and, after awhile, I could take it no longer.
"If you're going to be eating, it might be difficult with that hood." I prompted.
The figure had been about to take a sip from a glass of ale I'd ordered for it, but when I spoke it paused. It set the glass down on the table slowly and, just as slowly, pulled back its hood.
At first I thought perhaps that all that comprised its face was strings and I was prepared to be horrified. However, it was just lanky black hair, which was so copious that pulling back the hood did virtually nothing to reveal my companion's visage.
I impatiently brushed it away, not caring particularly if my companion was at all miffed by this.
He looked like he'd just woken up, which was likely. His eyes were bright yellow and they were looking down at the table. The rest of his face looked quite normal and I wondered why he felt he had to keep his hood up all the time.
He looked up at me and I said, "You probably keep your hood up because it's your job, but right now you're having dinner and hoods are not appropriate at the table."
He opened his mouth and looked about to speak, but he nodded instead. We ate in silence. he didn't look up at me the whole time, so I happily stared at him. He had a ridiculous amount of hair. He had a beard as well, but it wasn't as long as the rest of his hair, which disappeared into the recesses of his robe. I noticed all the dirt and grim about his face and, when we finished eating, kindly informed him that he was taking a bath.
He looked up fearfully and I pointedly ignored his pleading look. The innkeeper told me where the baths were and my companion had only enough time to grab his scythe before I dragged him away.
He stood next to the tub uncertainly as I poured hot water in it.
"Now, in the event that you've never taken a bath before, I'll tell you what we're going to do. You get undressed and get in the tub. Then you scrub yourself down and dry yourself off. Sound simple? That's because it is. Now is it alright if I wash your clothes as well?"
He looked at me blankly, then sighed and nodded.
"Good, they look clean but I want to make sure. Empty your pockets; we don't want anything washed that shouldn't be."
When he'd removed the paltry contents of his pockets, he started to take off his robe, but stopped and looked at me.
"What?" I asked.
He reddened.
"Oh, yes, right, I'll go get you a towel."
He nodded and I left. I came back with a towel and he was lying in the tub looking sullen. I put down the towel and patted him on the head. He looked at me askance and I said, "Yuck. Wash your hair at least. I'll be back after I get your clothes washed. You can find someplace for us to sleep while I take a bath."
I only had to wash his robe, but the thing was so heavy it took about half an hour. I eventually gave up and tried to carry it to a tree. I got it halfway there then my companion appeared in the inn's doorway, wrapped in a towel. I waved at him and asked him to carry his robe. He obliged and I asked him to come get me with a towel in a little while.
I thought it would take me a long time to go to sleep, but once I'd gotten cozy among the tree roots I dropped off pretty quickly. The last thing I thought about before I slept was that my companion was probably going to kill me in my sleep for making him take a bath.
However, in the morning, there was an entirely different problem facing us.
