The TwiceBorn

These Un-perfect Ashes

"You are the mysterious fire at my fingertips..."—Geddes

If anyone were to ask Gre what path had been taken from Lochedge to Rogue's Refuge he'd of been hard-pressed to answer.  Some days, he felt as if they hadn't moved at all. On others, he didn't quite grasp why he needed to leave the warmth of his pallet and ride when their progress could be marked on the fingers of one hand.

The stink of diabolism was everywhere.  Gre fancied he could smell it dripping from the trees as they rode by.  Aubery was steeped in it. The sun, not as strong as it had been when they'd started out, still burned hot and laid claim when it was straight up in the sky. 

The heat of it had honed the boy down and he'd lost weight he could ill-afford to lose.  He was not much more than a skeleton. Bone covered with skin the color of leather and powered along by...what? Gre didn't know.  But whatever it was, it kept Aubery close.

But even that, Gre could grow accustomed to.  Still afraid but...accustomed.  It was that damnable stopping that was wearing him thin.  Aubery would pull his horse up, turn and face the trees behind them with an expression of such yearning, Gre would have to look away.

And he'd had time to think about it all.  Lots of time as he sat in his saddle and moved two steps forward and three back.  It had been when Aubery had picked up that bitch's sword.  Something had happened.  Some kind of trade, was the only way Gre could describe it.  Something had wanted its freedom and Aubery's small contribution of sanity had been deemed adequate for the exchange.

Or it was a ward.  Some smelly,complicated diabolism of The Twiceborn's that was now glued to Aubery like the worst case of wet boils ever contracted from one of Winnie's whores.  Gre didn't care which it was; he only wanted it either gone or to be as far away as possible from it.  And it didn't look like either was going to happen any time soon.

The one bright spot in their meandering was he'd been able to purchase more ale from a strange little man who'd had a cart pulled by a large sow. The cart had been stacked high with greasy,dirty little bottles.  Gre had instantly recognized him as an ale merchant though not a very good one.  What he'd purchased wasn't delicately filtered or sweetened with pure honey.  One whiff had almost knocked him over.

The merchant had laughed and said it was a bit "stuffy" but it was strong.  Even the name of the liquid..."Corpse Reviver"...hadn't been enough to deter Gre. If anything it had made him want it more because he was to the point he needed something strong.

  Something to make him forget Aubery's strange eyes and mumblings about rocks and fire.  So,he'd bought enough to fill his skins and when he'd asked the man about ingredients, he'd tuned out everything after "pig sweat."

A few days of swilling down what tasted like old ashes combined with river mud had turned his thoughts away from Aubery for a bit and more towards if he was going to blind himself with the foul liquid.

But no matter how much he drank, it was impossible to dismiss Aubery entirely though, a fact Gre was slowly coming to terms with.  At times, he imagined Aubery's madness to be so strong he could smell it but he consoled himself by thinking it was nothing more than the leftover ash of his poorly made ale.