Creep

Chapter Four: Sending a Message

Rain fell, pattering an offbeat rhythm on all it touched. Corvir hadn't realised he had drifted off until he awoke with start. Drool ran down his beard and he pawed at it as he looked around. As usual, he was in an alleyway - Corvir spent his life in the various alleyways of Red Fern - but this time he was camped out by the apothecary, sheltering with some old crates and barrels. The same apothecary where he'd been waiting for what felt like ages. He looked around for the young soldier he'd watched enter the shop but could see no sign of him.

'Maybe he's still inside,' he thought, getting to his feet and keeping his eyes fixed on the door of the shop. 'Wonder if he's visiting Wylie 'cause of the battle madness. If anyone could fix it, it'll be Wylie.' His eyes filled with tears. Corvir knew many soldiers - friends he had served with - who would have benefitted from a cure to the battle madness. It was a shame none of them were around to see if such a thing existed. They were either dead or had moved on. Most chose to live in the wilds and Corvir couldn't blame them. Sometimes he thought he should do the same. Taking his chances with the monsters and spirits outside the city walls almost seemed preferable to dealing with the people inside them. Corvir knew more than anyone that people were monsters too.

The door of the apothecary creaked open drawing his attention. Shortly after opening, the door closed again, but no-one emerged from it. In fact, from where Corvir stood, he couldn't even see who had opened and closed the door. It was strange, but it didn't worry him. Wylie was a strange woman, these kinds of things were almost expected.

He watched the door for a few more moments, willing it to open and reveal the young soldier, but it remained firmly closed. Standing in the alleyway, he weighed up his options. He could continue to wait, but how long would he have to wait for? What if the man had already left while Corvir had been sleeping? He'd be wasting his time and, for the first time in years, he didn't have time to waste. He had to tell someone about what he'd seen the night before, and the longer he left it, the worse the problem would become.

No, sticking around wasn't sensible. Taking one last look at the door, Corvir decided to walk back to the marketplace. Even if the young soldier didn't reappear, he could tell someone else. He wouldn't enjoy it, and they probably wouldn't believe him, but he could pass the message on. At least then the problem would cease to be his. He told himself this, but he knew that he'd be fighting alongside the official forces if an attack came. It wouldn't matter that he was no longer a member of the Queen's Guard. He wouldn't be fighting for her, anyway; he'd be fighting for the people of Red Fern.

Feeling like he'd been waiting long enough, Corvir turned away and started walking. As usual, he opted to stick to the alleyways and small, darkened roads. These were the kinds of roads that managed to stay in a perpetual state of twilight, no matter what time of day it was. Roads coated in shadow. Hidden away from the rest of the world, Corvir felt comfortable walking these paths.

As he walked, a chill started to nag at his skin. It didn't concern him at first, it was just mildly uncomfortable and Corvir had suffered far worse discomforts than feeling a bit cold. After a while, his breath plumed in front of his face, ghosting through the rain like a phantom. Was winter here so soon? It seemed to come earlier every year. Barren fields and trees were eager to leak into the earlier pre-autumnal months, reaching for folks like him with their icy fingers. When he'd been a young man in the Queen's Guard, the colder part of the year never bothered him. He'd always had a roof over his head, food in his belly, and a woman by his side. But things were different now. Things like the temperature and the weather had more of a say in your mood and health when you were out in the elements morning, noon, and night. In fact, they damn near controlled your mood and your health.

Corvir wrapped his tattered cloak around him, covering as much of his body as he could. It didn't matter how tight he wrapped himself, he still shivered. This was already getting on to be as bad as last winter. It didn't bode well at all. Finding somewhere to live out the winter months would need to be a priority. Maybe he could try tracking down his son. Or maybe he could find one of his old army buddies. There had to be someone to take him in, didn't there? Corvir didn't hold out much hope.