3A/N: Okay, this is the beginning of a story I wrote two or three years ago. The story didn't get very far, but I figured I might as well post it here, if only so everyone can learn from my mistakes..
The rainy season had come fast this year. The different seasons were hard to predict but it almost never came so quickly, at least not so in these last years. The sky had turned an immeasurable blur of grey, with no sunlight to illuminate or banish the darkness.
The rain had started just over half an hour ago but instead of decreasing it was getting steadily heavier. The path was narrow and overgrown from lack of use. It was actually quite busy for Laurenath, being the linking road between two main towns, but that still said little.
The grass blew in a crazy, fanatic dance, the wind making it howl like some unearthly siren.
I had dismounted from my horse, and was leading it through the forest, to where I knew there would be a shelter. I had been there a few times before, it was not big, but it was shelter. The next town was at least a day away, so there was little hope if it was not here, but at last I faintly recognised the path. I had been trying to find it all day as the looming clouds of Thryn appeared, but it was possible that I was already too late.
The rain was thick, very thick. It warped the sky into a bleary, unfocused darkness; it beat into my mail-shirt, which seemed to embed itself into my flesh. After the rains it was not uncommon to find a few unwary or unlucky travellers lying by the roadside, but more often than not they were not found, people would just vanish. At least, I assume so – it was not possible to tell. The rain beat into my skin like fiery needles but I ignored it, just hoped the shelter was soon and my memory had not been warped and eaten away into a hopeless fantasy, where salvation lay just ahead.
The darkness, the cold, was all around me, inside me, gripping on to me, chilling me to the bone.
I put my head down to battle the rain. I sighed, but couldn't hear myself against the sound of the rain.
Carefully I lay one foot down after the other, walking briskly, not looking at the indent my boots had made in the overgrown grass, nor the hoof-marks my horse was making.
Suddenly, through the endless drumming in my ears I heard a sound – a sound that sounded so strange to me I barely thought I had heard it. It was a voice.
A Voice? The rain continued beating down my face, surrounding me. How many people used this path? It seemed impossible anyone could be here except me, but as the voice rose and fell in a distorted sentence I changed my course and followed the sound. It would increase my time in the bitter stinging of the rain but I could not leave anyone to suffer this kind of fate; the rain was growing heavier and only if fate were very kind would they manage to escape death. I least I like to think that's why I did it, I wasn't sure. It happened in every situation that I have to choose – duty over comfort.
I put my hand over my eyes to try and keep the water away, but the rain still made everything bleary and distorted. Despite this I could just tell the person was standing next to their horse, talking quite softly, but I could just make out the sound, if not the words. I held out a hand and after what seemed like a long time the person took it and clasped their hand around it.
It was icy cold. I held it tight and slowly made my way back to the path. The rain beat down in sheets but I recognised where we were. "Come on, Ulio!" I whispered to my horse and leading her in one hand and leading the stranger in the other I slowly made my way forward.
The sky was dark and it seemed to press in from every side, the rain stinging through to the skin, burning to the bone.
Every step was a danger, the ground was slippery and uneven and because you could not see it, it was even more so. I stumbled several times but did not fall. The trees swayed like the grass, echoing misery at the onslaught of rain. I could now see the faint outline of the shelter ahead. I quickened my pace and stepped forward. I knew we would survive.
Letting go of the person's hand I unfastened the heavy door, my numb fingers clasping the bolt clumsily and led me and my horse inside.
The room was dark, too dark to see by, but it was dry. The smell of it was disgusting but it was infinitely preferable to the rain. The other person closed the door and bolted it then walked noiselessly across the room. I bent down in the empty fireplace and made a fire. There was dry wood inside the shelter and I had pieces of flint so I did not find it hard. Life was hard and that was my real challenge. The narrow chimney had a filter so the rain could not find it's way in, or at least that was what I presumed.
On one side of the shelter there was a few horseboxes and a toilet, the other side of the room was empty floor. In the middle there was a large fireplace, now, with a roaring fire.
I shook my head and the moisture fell into the fire and on the floor. I sighed and wiped my face with a piece of my sodden cloak, my dark hair falling messily around my face and getting in my eyes. Drops of water ran down my soaked skin, making me squint.
Outside and on the roof the rain made a constant pulse of noise. It surrounded the shelter, as if it was unwilling to let its victims escape.
I turned around and saw, as they pulled down their hood, which had previously shadowed their face that it was a girl.
She looked young, very young, and too young to be out here. Her hair streamed down her side in a wet, tangled mess. Her eyes were a bright uncomfortable flash of green. Then she turned away to her horse and I hurried also to attend to my horse.
In the wild, horses were more than useful, they were vital. The towns were so spread out and the people so scattered, that travelling by foot would be almost suicidal. There were places in these lands that you could travel for days and see nothing, not even a track.
This area by comparison was almost urban, there was a track path, and even a shelter.
Without a word I removed her saddlebags, saddle and reins. I led her close to the fire and tried to rub her fur dry with a cloth. It was wet of course but I hoped to bring warmth to her skin. Equine fur had adapted well to the harsh change in weather but it was not perfect. Afterwards I led her to one of the stables on the far side of the shelter. There was straw there, dirty, but dry. I led her inside then walked back to my own bags. The rain had been unmerciful. I sat in front of the fire, hoped to recover feeling inside myself. I felt like I had been frozen into an unmoving block of ice. The girl dealt with her horse, then joined me by the fire. We both sat there, looking at the flames, easing our pain, but increasing it whilst we regained feeling in my arms and legs, fingers and toes.
"What brings you here that would make you wander in the rainy season?." I said at length, offering a conversation with the stranger but the girl did not turn to face me, her face shadowed by the flickering light of the fire.
"It does not concern you." She didn't voice any opinion, nor include any emotion. She simply stated it. There was something in her voice that seemed strange. She spoke with an almost childish voice, but it had a steely overtone.
"I'm sorry." I said softly "It is suicide."
She turned around to look at the my face. As she turned her head out from the shadow her eyes never met mine once, but I still knew she was examining my face, judging me.
I knew I looked older than I was, but I didn't really care. I was also aware of her eyes looking at my cheek. I have a long scar, turned red from the pressure of the rain, running from my chin to just below my eye. My hair was wild and unruly, covering the lower half of my face and the back of his head, almost to shoulder height at the time. I felt her eyes scanning my cheek, the way most strangers did, but then she stopped, dismissing it with an unusual casualness.
"You travel." She pointed out, quickly, and she turned back to face her horse, her face back in the shadow.
"Are you alright?" I asked carefully.
"Why would I not be?"
I spoke again after a pause and sighed. "I'm Háciln."
After a long while she replied. "Æsh."
She got up and lay down in the opposite corner of the room, shivering. I glanced behind to look at the strange traveller. She kept her eyes looking at the wooden wall, her wet hair streaming down her back, her mouth turned up in an angry frown. Her body still and awkwardly spread against the wall. Slowly her breathing became regular and I knew she was asleep. I was vaguely surprised she trusted me enough to fall asleep so soon, either that or she knew nothing about travelling. With strangers it was almost customary to stay on guard, neither person trusting the other to not cut their throat while they were sleeping. I know I have never looked trustworthy, I knew that all that well.
I stayed looking into the fire, thinking, until it burnt out, then I too fell asleep.
The next morning it was still raining and I awoke to the sound of the girl coughing.
I watched silently, through the darkness.
The room was dark as the fire had gone out but I could just make out the girl's shape lying on the floor. She got up and gracefully walked over to her horse. He nuzzled her hand, a sign of perfect trust and affection. I watched as she coughed again and it ran through her body in a horrible wave.
She stroked her horse's fur, and seemingly, found it was perfectly warm and dry. I saw the girl wrap her cloak around herself, moving to the fireplace. Rubbing her hands to warm them, she muttered a few words and a fire sprung up. She glanced at me, evidently hoping I was asleep.
"Good morning." I said, drawing myself up to my full height.
"Good morning." She replied and moved backwards, towards her horse.
I glanced at the window, where the streaming rain still made it impossible to see out. "No travelling today." I said simply.
She nodded and started coughing again, then, she sat back down and watched the fire.
"Why were you caught out in such rains? Most travellers would not even think of travelling now." I queried, again prying for information on this strange character. Actually, most travellers were either outcasts or criminals, so as a rule they were a strange people, caring neither for the world, or the people in it. Life was bleak for them; each alone, struggling to win their own silent battles.
"Why were you?" She replied defensively, her eyes narrowing.
"I wasn't caught out. I knew there was a shelter here." I said calmly. "What are you doing here?"
"My business is my own."
"I meant you no offence. I was curious."
She looked away. If she had been outside, I expected she would have tried to run as fast as could in the other direction. She seemed so… uneasy? Was that even the right word? Defensive seemed more appropriate.
In her right hand, she grasped the hilt of her sword hard. I saw her hand was white, not through lack of sunshine but because she seemed ill and sickly. The hand that held the sword turned even paler as she grasped it tight and her face was pale and drawn.
"Can you fight?" I asked, nodding towards the weapon she held in genuine wonder.
"Yes."
"I have not seen a female traveller for a long time." I replied, ignoring the defence in her tone, my thoughts far away. When I had been young, back when my memories seemed nothing but intangible fog. The more I tried to hold on to them, the faster they vanished, until nothing was left but a feeling of safety. Times had changed a lot since then.
The girl opened her saddlebags and ate some bread inside them. She offered some to me but I refused, opening my own pack.
She ate only a little food and gave the rest to her horse, who lay, almost asleep in his stall, seeming to know there was no point in getting up.
She sat, leaning on the corner wall in seemingly deep thought.
"Are you running away?" I asked, chewing a mouthful of dry bread slowly.
"No." She said sharply. "Are you?" I sighed, swallowing the bread.
"No. I am wandering. I don't have anywhere to go."
"Me neither." She said, mainly to herself. For a minute, her expression softened from defence almost to desperation and I was puzzled by the change in her.
"How long have you been wandering?" I said softly, curiously, seeing a brink in her armour.
She glanced up and for a second I saw the hate in her green eyes. "Seven years." She said, the look slowly faded and I thought she had stopped but she sighed and continued. "I started travelling seven years ago." Her eyes trailed the floor, seeming neither sorry, nor without purpose.
"I'm sorry." I said.
"What for?" She replied deadpan.
I shook my head.
We sat in silence for a long time, neither caring. Our horses did not get up. They only lay there, waiting for the rain to stop. There didn't seem much point in talking.
She sat still, darting her eyes around. They did not rest easily, it seemed.
"The rain should stop soon." I started
"I doubt they will give us up so easily."
"Have hope young one."
She looked at the wooden roof then suddenly looked straight at me for the first time. My first thought was that her eyes were burning in green, fiery flames. Her eyes were like great beacons of green, shining fiercely, intensely.
" Hope?" She snarled
"It is an emotion. Do you never have wishes or hope?"
She turned to stare at the wall. "No." she said.
"Is it possible for someone to have no hope?" I wondered out loud.
I paused as Æsh coughed, bent over double and I glanced at her.
"It must be so." She said, quite softly.
"Hope is important." I touched the familiar scar on my cheek and sighed.
The woman softly shook her head, but I did not respond to her silent objection.
She seemed to be totally blocked off from the world. I envied her for that.
Her hair clung to her back, even now when it was more or less dry, and she seemed very thin, even with the bulky chain mail and cloak she wore. Under her eyes was darkness, tiredness. A fading blue bruise showed, just appearing over her chin. Her eyes seemed very full of life, burning almost. Her mouth was red, very red against her pale skin. A stream of dried blood came from a cut on her forehead. She was sitting still, so still if she had not been breathing I would have thought she was dead, a ghost woman of the night. On her forehead she had a circlet, shining silver in the fiery light.
She seemed strong, that was my first impression. Although she was thin, she was alive. She seemed detached, like quite a few travellers he had met, and she had power.
I had watched the girl in interest for a while. It was very strange, how she seemed very far away, even though she was here, in this room. It almost annoyed me, that she was so quick to look away from him, seeming so disdainful of everything.
I drummed my fingers on the wooden grain floor in a little tune, something I had learned in the unrecognisable times of my childhood, mixed with songs I had learned since, mainly songs in taverns, I stopped and swore sharply, as a splinter pierced my skin.
She glanced up at me for a second, her eyes unreadable.
I thought back to when I had seen her light the fire. That puzzled me. I had never seen anything like that before.
I wondered where I was to go after I had delivered the parcel I had in his saddlebag. Maybe I would find jobs to do, errands to run, like I always did. I could not stay in one place. I felt too trapped and tied down in one place.
I supposed that the girl and me were similar in that respect. Even by looking at her, the girl almost gave the impression she felt trapped. Almost. She fidgeted, knotting her hands together and apart constantly. It was so hard to know what she was thinking, what she was feeling, like a book in a different language.
I was good at reading faces. It was one of the first things I had learned and so I could almost always tell if someone was lying, which came in useful, with so many thieves and cutthroats around. I turned my head, sighed and ignored the girl. She was too strange to try and make sense of and why should I even care? She was probably just upset, unable to look after herself in the wild and a liar.
By the time the rain stopped, it was dark. Æsh wandered outside, leading her horse, as did I with my horse. The ground was wet but not waterlogged, almost like it had rained only a light shower.
It would be impossible to find the road again till daylight and, after a while we both turned back to the shelter to wait for sunlight.
I sighed. Hope sometimes seemed far away, whatever I had said to the girl.
In the night, a terrifying scream woke me, almost before it happened. It ran long and clear, piercingly high. I ran swiftly over to the girl.
"Are you alright?"
She turned her head to the wall, breathing heavily. Finally she seemed to understand what I had said and nodded her head.
"You're lying. Can I help?"
"No." she spat back fiercely. I looked at her, a small quivering form on the darkened floor, her eyes searching, her face twisted with defence, the dark shadows falling heavily on her features.
"You were screaming." I said softly
"I am sorry to have woken you."
I paused for a minute then padded back across the room softly and returned to my restless dreams.
Æsh packed and left before I awoke.
A/N: If anyone liked that (or read this far), I'll post the next chapter….