The TwiceBorn

Warring Hearts

"If you can't go back to your mother's womb, you'd better learn to be a good fighter." —Anchee Min

Gre sadly came to the conclusion that it simply wasn't possible for him to be any unluckier than what he already was. He scowled and resisted the urge to fling his leather-engraved map off into the brush.

He'd had the map for a while and the merchant had assured him that the bitter gault liquid that had been used to draw the various trade roads and surrounding woods would stand up to almost any kind of treatment.

Any treatment that didn't involve being in his saddlebag, apparently. He scrubbed a hand across his tired gritty eyes again and tried to focus.From the look of it they were a bit farther off then he'd thought.

The ink blobs that he'd thought were the lemon ash trees on the near side of Lochedge were on the far side unless...

...he squinted and peered closer...

...those were smears that marked a point of absolutely nothing whatsoever.

Did he have it upside down?

It was hard to tell with all the ink run together in puddles. But he had a strong feeling that they were on the far side...not the near side of Lochedge. Nothing on the map told him that. The way his luck ran told him far more then the smudges on the leather.

"Ahhh,fuck...Aubery? Come over here and take a look at this."

Gre glanced up and saw Aubery was staring at Islinn as she cleared away grass to make a fire ring.

"And there's another problem in the making." He thought uneasily. The spot they'd found was a good one, water nearby, trees for shelter so the ground wasn't as muddy as out on the grasslands and a good possibility of finding some game for food. And he thought it would be easy.

Islinn would set up the camp, he'd take a cursory look at the map, then he'd go wash up a bit, check the area for game,then spread out his bed, and nurse his aleskin until he drifted off to sleep.

But no. His map, which he'd paid quite a bit of coin for at the time, was nothing but a smeared mess. And Aubery. Whatever had happened out there when he'd had his fit had changed him. Gre could see it.

Aubery had pranced out onto the grasslands looking for a trophy and, at the time, he'd been nothing but an insecure arrogant little asshole. But the useless clay of Aubery had been taken up by unseen hands which had sculpted him into...what? Gre didn't know. The nervous tension that the boy wore like clothing; all the finger-popping and strange jittering was gone.

In its place was a strange watchfulness. A watchfulness that beat with an odd heart all of its own.

"He's gone bad." Gre thought. It was a phrase his father used to use when one of their dogs went rogue. Aubery had the same look. It was the stare. That steady keen stare.That was now focused on Islinn.

"Aubery! Now! "Gre thundered and watched as the boy jumped then looked sheepishly about. Gre frowned and stared down at his smeared map again. As Aubery came up beside him, Gre planted one mud-encrusted finger on a map blob and grunted.

"We're here." He announced as he scrubbed his hand across his tired eyes again. "Or...here. And it's possible we're off over this way too. But...my best guess is...we're way over there."

He glanced up and caught Aubery staring off into the trees. The boy's eyes glowed with the intensity of one of Winnie's lit stormlamps.

"Aubery! The map..." Gre ground his teeth in frustration.

"Oh. Oh...yeah." Aubery blinked a few times then squinted at the map. Islinn knelt down to place twigs in the newly cleared fire ring and Gre watched as Aubery's eyes drifted off the map and settled on the slight movement. His eyes took on an unsettling gleam.