The King bearer three

Part 8: Toby

It was around lunch, which most people take at noon, but Tobias had a deathly fear of doing things the common way, and so usually ate his lunch around four, instead of twelve. So, more accurately, it was four thirty and Toby was eating his ham and cheese sandwich when Elizabeth Peterson, aka Libby, came banging on his door. "Hurry up, Grimier, time's up, move it or lose it," she shouted through the mahogany of his door. Toby groaned and flopped back on his bed, whimpering through a mouthful of Irish ham and Swiss cheese. "Don't give me that, Grimier," Libby chided, "You barely paid me enough for my Lunch, never mind the time you've spent under my roof. OUT! Now," She demanded. Toby rolled his eyes, "It's my roof as much as yours, Libby," he said, as a reminder. 

Libby was always acting like she owned the cabin, claiming that it was "hers" instead of everyone's. Her argument was always the same, "Are you going to run that lobby, I don't think so, Buster," Libby postulated in a moody tone, "Move it! I expect that room empty in five minutes or there will be Hell to pay!"  she stormed off down the stairs. "I bet she never even put them away," Toby mumbled, making to leave. He glanced around the room, one more time, his eyes fixating on the corner of the room dedicated to Clotho. It contained a detailed pencil portrait he drew of her, Clotho his giggling muse through the whole process, as well as some balls of yarn, a spinning wheel, and a few other bits and pieces, things Clotho had asked him to put thee, because they were important or because they made her happy. That corner was his most reliable way to communicate with her, his only way of reaching for her rather than her reaching for him. It had been useless today. He hadn't been able to reach her, and she hadn't reached for him. Maybe that plea I offered is finally working, he thought. Still, it felt good to recharge in his room, even if that wasn't his primary aim in coming back to his cabin. 

Libby shoved him out the door with all the ceremony and courtesy one would use when kicking a bag of refuse waste out onto the curb. Toby staggered away from the cabin, his hands in the pockets of his old denim jeans, and wondered where to go next. He really didn't want to go back to the infirmary, partly because he was half sure some of the doctors, Solace, possibly, would yell at him for sneaking out the back way. Again. He decided to head into the woods, hoping to find a quiet spot to do some drawing and that the recent lack of monster attacks on those who entered the woods would hold. It was a strange thing that, almost as if the monsters where hiding, seeking safety in the presence of danger. Like the quiet nights where he world held its breath, sheltering in silence before a great, lethal catastrophe. The reason for this was of little consequence to Toby, who only cared that it meant he wouldn't have to fight anything at that moment. He knew he could fight when he felt he had to, but he really didn't want to. 

Before the Titan War, Toby had marked out a special spot in the woods when he would go when the world got too tough or he felt like drawing inspiration from the realm of nature, and he decided to make his way there now. It was a shaded area under a towering elder tree with sprawling roots that made the perfect seat, just in front of a shallow section of the canoeing lake, off to the side and sheltered from prying eyes by the tree's hanging limbs. Surprisingly enough, the dirt brown, ground underneath the tree, inside the root - bordered seat, was often saturated and stained a deep, crimson colour. Sometimes this same crimson coloured the bark of the tree, the lower bark and roots around the seat, mostly. Toby never knew why this was, but he simply considered it part of the tree's simple charm. 

Somewhere along the way, however, he must have taken a wrong turn, because the tree he ended up at was not anything like his tree. The lake was nowhere to be seen, and while Toby couldn't tell what kind of tree this one was, it certainly didn't look like an elder tree. It had slight scorch marks and burned spots covering its front bark, like it had come to close to a fire. None of the other trees in the forest looked anywhere near as damaged, and they had no signs of burning. The rain began to pour. Toby walked closer to the tree, seeking shelter, but noticed something peculiar. When he stepped closer, there was suddenly a greater number of branches in the back than there had been previously, only moments before. He couldn't tell what was going on, if it was a trick of the light, or his eyes, but, regardless, he stepped closer, towards the back of the tree. The rain was heavier now, a colossal downpour of rain, spilling from the clouds in sheets. The dirt around the tree turned to mud. Toby's feet were sinking and he backed loser to the tree to get more shelter from the rain. It was then that he saw it. Four words, written in mud and rain - soaked ash, scrawled across the ground. He was unnerved by what they said. They read simply; "Bring me, Jay Chen." 

Toby was scared, confused. How could this happen? Who did this? How did they know Jay? What did they want with her? All these questions and more went circling round his head, again and again, with no clear answer. He heard a caw sound from within the trees. He heard a sound like thunder shake the earth, and saw the trees around him disappear from sight, replaced with the grey slate of sheeting rain. He saw the outline of a figure emerge from the slate.                            "You heard me!," the figure seemed to shout.                                                                                                     "W-What," Toby stammered. Another sound like thunder. A boy appeared in front of him.        "You heard me," the boy demanded, "You saw it didn't you? Bring me Jay Chen!" The boy was losing patience, Toby could see.                                                                                                                             Still, Toby was too frightened to do anything but stammer,  "Wh-why-"                                                       "I don't have time for this!," the boy reprimanded loudly, "Bring me Jay Chen! Bring her to me on Half Blood Hill before the day is out!" Toby gulped                                                                                      "Or what," he asked meekly, terrified of this tall, booming stranger.                                                              "Or what, he says, Or what!" the strange boy spat, mockingly, "Do you not understand? Did the fates not give you the cursed blade?" He questioned, scoldingly. Toby didn't know how to respond, "I- I, uh" "Never mind, your mumbling!" The menacing boy interrupted, "I don't have Time for this! Bring me Jay CHEN!!!" The strange, menacing, terrifying boy shoved Toby out from under the tree, and Toby ran. He didn't know where to, and he didn't care. He just knew he had to run, he had to find Jay, had to get OUT OF HERE! He had to head the boy, had to get him to her, had to get himself safe. He had to get himself safe, no matter what it took.