Post by Bethany on Apr 30, 2007 18:22:18 GMT -5
Oh, and I made one vital change to chapter 4. After Jerez drags the not-dead Synna behind a building, I added the lines:
“I made the kill.” Jerez said, his face just as pale as if he’d actually done it.
“Good.” Bozi’s face was terrifyingly satisfied.
*****
- chapter 5-
Trees
Life is a changing thing.
When you make plans, and put it all on the line, things just never seem to turn the right way.
Is this our fault? Is it the ill humor of a benevolent God?
I don’t think that you can place the blame on anything, not even fate.
*****
"I'm never going to finish packing if you don't answer me!" Bozi whined. Jerez was staring off into space, contemplating on why Ramses would send them traveling to seperate places. Weren't there other people who could do this job... people who did work with partners? ...people who usually travel? Jerez knew for a fact that Ramses had no lack of employees, or else he wouldn't have 'fired' Synna. In fact, if anything, he would be downsizing...
"Jerez!" Bozi yelled impatiently.
"What?"
"You're hopeless! Forget it!" Bozi threw his extravagent outfits up in the air and leaving Jerez alone in their room, sitting on their bed and gazing out the window.
He hadn't left Landais since the day he came here. He hadn't intended to make it his permanent residence, but his plans changed when he met Bozi, and changed more when he got into the same business as Bozi. That wasn't the type of occupation that you could just quit; not without consequences.
Jerez watched as twilight slowly approached. It was time to leave. His bag was already packed; and though he hadn't put them in yet, Jerez knew that Bozi had already planned the exact items that would go in his pack. He strapped his hunting knife to his belt, and went out the door.
*****
Hours later, Jerez watched the trees emerge in the darkness. After the cross road, the path entered a forest. The rows of dead, dormant trees reminded him of the story about the Raven. It was a cool winter night, and no moon lit the sky. A breeze blew Jerez’s black cloak to the side and Jerez could hear the bare branches of the trees creak in the wind.
Soon, however, Jerez began to hear other noises. He glanced behind him, but couldn’t see anything but the darkness of the night. He wished Bozi was there with him; Bozi could see much better at night than Jerez could. ‘It’s only trees…’ Jerez told himself.
*****
Jerez never remembered what it was that had woken him up that night. He had decided that he needed a rest, and, instead of sitting on the edge of the path where anyone could see him sleeping, he chose to lie against a tree that left him slightly concealed. He sat there, at the base of that tree, and stared up at the stars. ‘Do such distant, tiny things really determine our destiny?’
It was then that he heard a noise. It wasn’t the wind going through the trees; it was something else. Ramses’ parting words came, like a curse, to Jerez’s thoughts. “When you’re traveling, spies are always a threat…”
Jerez strained to hear that the sounds were the soft scraping of men’s boots against the dirt, mixed with the clunk of high-heeled women’s boots. The steps got nearer and nearer, and Jerez was crouched down with his back against the tree, scarcely daring to breathe. Louder got the noise, and now he could hear soft whispers. They were slowly passing by, when Jerez’s leg slipped, causing him to fall noisily onto the dried leaves left over from the previous season.
The footsteps stopped. Jerez held his breath. The man’s footsteps turned around, and walked towards the unknown sound. Jerez had his hand on his knife. Closer. Nearer. The man was at the edge of the path, his silhouette partially visible; he had stopped to peer into the trees. This was Jerez’s chance.
The man was thrown onto his back as Jerez lunged into him, knife ready. The woman screamed. The long knife was deep in the man’s stomach, and by the time Jerez took it back out, the man was barely breathing. The woman came running, and knelt by the man, holding his head as the last breath left. But Jerez’s mind was racing. ‘That wasn’t a spy…’ he thought, panicking. He backed away from the man, his hands shaking to badly to hold on to the bloody knife. It fell. He didn’t even notice it.
“You MONSTER!” The woman yelled, through her sobbing. Jerez looked at her; her eyes longing for an answer. He just shook his head, he couldn’t speak even if he tried. He turned around, and he ran.
He ran with tears streaming down his face, and noises echoing in his ears. Synna accusations of betrayal; Ramses telling him he was late; footsteps; and Silver: ‘Don’t you remember me?’ His mind played back the man’s last breath; Malachi lying, bleeding on the snow; the short, angry old man in Frostmare, the sadistic look on Bozi’s face when he heard that a kill was made, and Holly. Maybe if he’d stayed with her, he wouldn’t have ended up so cruel… Then, in his mind, visions began to flash which he had never seen. A pair of red eyes gazed from a distance. A woman’s hand caressed his cheek. A pair of raven’s wings spread out before him.
Jerez was brought back to the present, panting, and he found that he was no longer running, but standing still. Water drizzled down from the sky. He walked steadily, doing his best to calm down and focus. Now that he was away from Landais, he wouldn’t go back. He couldn’t keep up the life he was living. Maybe he could go back to Icemarrow… But the sound of footsteps still clouded his ears, mixing with the sound of the rain, which was slowly getting harder. Jerez could hardly make out a clearing of the tree; he could find shelter there. He took a deep breath, calming himself down, but still there were footsteps. If he could think straight, why couldn’t he hear right?
Suddenly Jerez knew he wasn’t imagining things. These were different footsteps. He turned around and saw a figure in the distant darkness. Jerez’s instincts flailed around, begging him to flee. He did. He ran.
His whole being was focused on the town ahead. There would have to be a guard or something; someone, a witness; help. He didn’t want to kill anyone else again, tonight, or ever.
The figure pursued him. They went on; like two leaves trapped in a gusty wind, until an overgrown tree root destroyed his progress. The figure gained ground, but Jerez scrambled up from the mud and started running again. The town was right there! The entrance was a couple feet away. The footfalls behind him grew nearer as Jerez grew tired, but there was still a gap between them. ‘Keep going!’ he told himself.
The entrance to the circular town was there, and in the center stood two giant statues illuminated by torches; a swift-looking winged woman, and a strong man with the antlers of a great stag. The stone statues served as the only guards, much to Jerez’s dismay.
The pursuer finally caught up with his prey, and grabbed Jerez by his ponytail, yanking him down, backward, onto the wet ground. Jerez looked up at the figure.
“Damn… you are hard to catch.” The all-too-familiar voice said between gasps for air.
“Bozi?” Jerez asked, both relieved and confused. Bozi circled around, and stopped where light from the torches lit up the left side of his face. He had on him the same look of sadistic amusement that he had when Jerez told him that he had killed Synna.
Then, the pieces in Jerez’s mind began to fall into place. Ramses didn’t send him on a mission to find information; he’d sent him to his death.
*****
-
end chapter five
“I made the kill.” Jerez said, his face just as pale as if he’d actually done it.
“Good.” Bozi’s face was terrifyingly satisfied.
*****
- chapter 5-
Trees
Life is a changing thing.
When you make plans, and put it all on the line, things just never seem to turn the right way.
Is this our fault? Is it the ill humor of a benevolent God?
I don’t think that you can place the blame on anything, not even fate.
*****
"I'm never going to finish packing if you don't answer me!" Bozi whined. Jerez was staring off into space, contemplating on why Ramses would send them traveling to seperate places. Weren't there other people who could do this job... people who did work with partners? ...people who usually travel? Jerez knew for a fact that Ramses had no lack of employees, or else he wouldn't have 'fired' Synna. In fact, if anything, he would be downsizing...
"Jerez!" Bozi yelled impatiently.
"What?"
"You're hopeless! Forget it!" Bozi threw his extravagent outfits up in the air and leaving Jerez alone in their room, sitting on their bed and gazing out the window.
He hadn't left Landais since the day he came here. He hadn't intended to make it his permanent residence, but his plans changed when he met Bozi, and changed more when he got into the same business as Bozi. That wasn't the type of occupation that you could just quit; not without consequences.
Jerez watched as twilight slowly approached. It was time to leave. His bag was already packed; and though he hadn't put them in yet, Jerez knew that Bozi had already planned the exact items that would go in his pack. He strapped his hunting knife to his belt, and went out the door.
*****
Hours later, Jerez watched the trees emerge in the darkness. After the cross road, the path entered a forest. The rows of dead, dormant trees reminded him of the story about the Raven. It was a cool winter night, and no moon lit the sky. A breeze blew Jerez’s black cloak to the side and Jerez could hear the bare branches of the trees creak in the wind.
Soon, however, Jerez began to hear other noises. He glanced behind him, but couldn’t see anything but the darkness of the night. He wished Bozi was there with him; Bozi could see much better at night than Jerez could. ‘It’s only trees…’ Jerez told himself.
*****
Jerez never remembered what it was that had woken him up that night. He had decided that he needed a rest, and, instead of sitting on the edge of the path where anyone could see him sleeping, he chose to lie against a tree that left him slightly concealed. He sat there, at the base of that tree, and stared up at the stars. ‘Do such distant, tiny things really determine our destiny?’
It was then that he heard a noise. It wasn’t the wind going through the trees; it was something else. Ramses’ parting words came, like a curse, to Jerez’s thoughts. “When you’re traveling, spies are always a threat…”
Jerez strained to hear that the sounds were the soft scraping of men’s boots against the dirt, mixed with the clunk of high-heeled women’s boots. The steps got nearer and nearer, and Jerez was crouched down with his back against the tree, scarcely daring to breathe. Louder got the noise, and now he could hear soft whispers. They were slowly passing by, when Jerez’s leg slipped, causing him to fall noisily onto the dried leaves left over from the previous season.
The footsteps stopped. Jerez held his breath. The man’s footsteps turned around, and walked towards the unknown sound. Jerez had his hand on his knife. Closer. Nearer. The man was at the edge of the path, his silhouette partially visible; he had stopped to peer into the trees. This was Jerez’s chance.
The man was thrown onto his back as Jerez lunged into him, knife ready. The woman screamed. The long knife was deep in the man’s stomach, and by the time Jerez took it back out, the man was barely breathing. The woman came running, and knelt by the man, holding his head as the last breath left. But Jerez’s mind was racing. ‘That wasn’t a spy…’ he thought, panicking. He backed away from the man, his hands shaking to badly to hold on to the bloody knife. It fell. He didn’t even notice it.
“You MONSTER!” The woman yelled, through her sobbing. Jerez looked at her; her eyes longing for an answer. He just shook his head, he couldn’t speak even if he tried. He turned around, and he ran.
He ran with tears streaming down his face, and noises echoing in his ears. Synna accusations of betrayal; Ramses telling him he was late; footsteps; and Silver: ‘Don’t you remember me?’ His mind played back the man’s last breath; Malachi lying, bleeding on the snow; the short, angry old man in Frostmare, the sadistic look on Bozi’s face when he heard that a kill was made, and Holly. Maybe if he’d stayed with her, he wouldn’t have ended up so cruel… Then, in his mind, visions began to flash which he had never seen. A pair of red eyes gazed from a distance. A woman’s hand caressed his cheek. A pair of raven’s wings spread out before him.
Jerez was brought back to the present, panting, and he found that he was no longer running, but standing still. Water drizzled down from the sky. He walked steadily, doing his best to calm down and focus. Now that he was away from Landais, he wouldn’t go back. He couldn’t keep up the life he was living. Maybe he could go back to Icemarrow… But the sound of footsteps still clouded his ears, mixing with the sound of the rain, which was slowly getting harder. Jerez could hardly make out a clearing of the tree; he could find shelter there. He took a deep breath, calming himself down, but still there were footsteps. If he could think straight, why couldn’t he hear right?
Suddenly Jerez knew he wasn’t imagining things. These were different footsteps. He turned around and saw a figure in the distant darkness. Jerez’s instincts flailed around, begging him to flee. He did. He ran.
His whole being was focused on the town ahead. There would have to be a guard or something; someone, a witness; help. He didn’t want to kill anyone else again, tonight, or ever.
The figure pursued him. They went on; like two leaves trapped in a gusty wind, until an overgrown tree root destroyed his progress. The figure gained ground, but Jerez scrambled up from the mud and started running again. The town was right there! The entrance was a couple feet away. The footfalls behind him grew nearer as Jerez grew tired, but there was still a gap between them. ‘Keep going!’ he told himself.
The entrance to the circular town was there, and in the center stood two giant statues illuminated by torches; a swift-looking winged woman, and a strong man with the antlers of a great stag. The stone statues served as the only guards, much to Jerez’s dismay.
The pursuer finally caught up with his prey, and grabbed Jerez by his ponytail, yanking him down, backward, onto the wet ground. Jerez looked up at the figure.
“Damn… you are hard to catch.” The all-too-familiar voice said between gasps for air.
“Bozi?” Jerez asked, both relieved and confused. Bozi circled around, and stopped where light from the torches lit up the left side of his face. He had on him the same look of sadistic amusement that he had when Jerez told him that he had killed Synna.
Then, the pieces in Jerez’s mind began to fall into place. Ramses didn’t send him on a mission to find information; he’d sent him to his death.
*****
-
end chapter five
