Mendacium Improbus

Part 1

       The bright sunlight filtered down through the dense forest and gently lit the bright summer flowers causing a warm glow to light the forest floor. Two individuals walked the well-traversed path that wound its way from one end of the forest to the other, yet no sense of companionship could be found between them. Death hung around the silence of words thought but not exchanged between the two travelers, death and the promise of violence seeped out, like an oozing toxin, causing the forest to grow quiet in response. Squirrels scattered out of the way as their animalistic instinct warned them of the danger surrounding the individual walking through their forest. Wait? Wasn't there two of them.

       "Watch out Father!", cried a child. A young farmer jumped out of the way of a rampaging stallion and landed in one of the market stalls causing it to collapse. The horse startled by loud collapse reared up on its legs, lashing out with its front hooves and kicking with its back legs. While this hectic scene took place a young man hiding in one of the alleyways quickly darted out and grabbed the money bag of nearby stall that had been deserted due to the commotion. Slipping back into the alley he'd come from eleven-year-old Sol ran as fast as he could to the drainage pipe that served as a makeshift ladder to the top of the Market Square buildings. As Sol climbed his way up his mind was turning, "This bag is heavy, that's good though, it feels like enough money to last me to the border and into Mildevia...", his breathing became labored as he reached the top. "I don't ever want to do this again, I'm sorry I broke our promise Mom, but if you can see me then you know--", the momentary nausea of his feet meeting nothing interrupted his thoughts. 

"Shhiiiiittt!", Sol screamed.  

     He plummeted through space and hit the ground heavily, dust rose off the ground and little particles danced in the sun beams, seemingly mocking his inability to gracefully float to the ground. Groaning, he pushed himself onto his back and raised his hand to block the sunlight streaming down through the newly created skylight. "Fuck you...", he whispered. His hand fell against his face, his fist clenched into a ball, his throat became thick, and his eyes watered. There was no one to see him, it was okay to cry just this once right? Instantly the image of a young girl flashed through his mind, "help me..", her cries echoed in his mind, "Help me..". They became louder and more desperate, "Please HELP ME!!!!! Somebody make it stop, anybody save me...Gods if you're real please have mercy on me, SAVE ME....HELP ME..." , tears flowed out of Sol's eyes, "...it hurts so bad."  That was the last distinguishable word, after that her cries deteriorated into senseless screams of agony, pleas of mercy, appeals for death, all within one sound; Sol could smell the blood dripping from her back, staining her black hair, and he could feel the pain of her soul and body.                                                

 "I'm coming as fast as I can.", he whispered, "Hold on...Please hold on!"  

   Her dark blue eyes seemed to bore into his, holding him responsible for knowing, for seeing, for being able to do something about it and yet laying on the ground crying instead. Her face dissipated like fog in the morning, only her pain lingered producing an endlessly scream and a never-ending feeling of dread, her dread. Sol cursed again slowly pushing himself up, the silence of the room was comforting, "Just a little while longer," he thought, "I want the quiet for just a little longer." Letting the quiet wash over him he waited....

       The cloaked individual walked in a straight line along the forest path, his body moving silently, and his face having the expression of a stone wall. He was a young man in his late twenties, clean shaven with dark hair and darker eyes, however the most fascinating thing about this man was his attire. A sword hung on his right hip and a book hung at his left, he walked with an oak staff in his hand and a small harp hung on his back. Additionally small knives adorned his thighs and a deep blood red jewel hung from his neck. He had no pouch for storing food, no sack to sleep on, the hooded cloak he wore was a thick material that was more suited for the cold temperatures of the northern Kingdom of Mildevia rather than the warmer climate of Yarea. The eerie silence of the forest caused him to pause, "Oops..", his expression immediately softened his eyes gained a sadness yet remained emotionless. Squirrels began to chatter once again, the birds resumed their routines, the life in the forest came back as if a switch had been thrown. The traveler smiled wryly, "My bad wildlife....I'm slipping--" , an irregularity in the forests sounds interrupted his thoughts. In one movement he stepped of the path and slid a couple of feet into the forest disappearing as if he had been a ghost. Eyes closed, heartbeat steady, the traveler searched for the irregularity tracing it back through all the other sounds to its origin. 

"Ahhh,"  he smiled, "I see you.  

   Three miles away a small merchant's caravan of three covered wagons rumbled along, the horses plodded contently and the small group of hired guards riding in a perimeter formation around them. Unbeknownst to the owner, and rider, of a pinto mare named Ash, she had a loose horse shoe on her left foreleg causing an irregular gait. Unfortunately her rider was very inexperienced and assumed that her gait was naturally choppy, so rather than dismount and check to see why Ash was limping he simply cursed his luck for getting such a horse. The unrhythmic sound was masked by the sound of creaking wagons, conversation, and the clopping of the other horses hoofs. Only one person could hear it and he was three miles down the road. "Poor Ash, I hope that nincompoop of a rider gets a saddle rash.", the traveler thought, the mare seemed to nod in agreement to his thought causing his lips to flicker in amusement. Shifting his attention from the horse he saw the other wagons and listened to the conversations being exchanged, he immediately regretted it as his mood went from light to dark faster than torch being extinguished. Once again the forest stopped in response, the traveler sighed casting an irritated glance at his surroundings he closed himself off once more and the life of the forest resumed. "I'm starting to believe everyone wants to meet me with a knife in their hands or a sword at my neck....i wonder if it was worth it....I know it wasn't but maybe in the grand scheme of life it was?.....Maybe...No i already know the outcomes...I just wished I knew mine....."

    As his thoughts swirled and stormed, time moved forward, the caravan of wagons came and went, the daylight faded, and the forest creatures exchanged their posts with their nocturnal neighbors. The night owls who flew out to seek the nights prey, looked with wise eyes full of sympathy in the direction which the traveler had gone, if only they could speak they would warn him of his paths end. However, even their eyes, which could pierce even the darkest night, could not see through the darkness of the second person that walked as the travelers shadow.        "Who is he?", the owls wondered as the continued to search for prey.