We Who Are Jaded

Chapter Sixteen

As I was forced from the landscape of Kieran's memory I saw many things hidden in many shadows. I roamed in places Kieran had sheltered me from and all for what? The agony of consuming the pictures of his past filled me and I could not object.

Kieran had lost everyone and I was witness to the madness it drove him to, to the fate that was awaiting him in a being with eyes of indigo.

As it all ebbed away, I was left numb. My hand was splayed against a granite gravestone, the name of the man I was willingly enslaved to lingering above my head. I blinked away the glaze in my eyes and shuddered as I drew breath.

What the hell was that?

I seemed to have found some to connect to Kieran's memory stream, beyond the realms of what we believed ourselves capable of. I could compose no theory for why this had happened and, for the sake of my sanity I was sure I didn't want to know.

And then there's her.

Though I saw no logic in being jealous, she was nothing more than a ghost now, the thought of Lucia chilled my veins and twisted the knife that felt plunged in my gut. She was demur and beautiful and had been worshipped by Kieran above all things. I was nothing in comparison and it hurt to admit to myself.

And yet, I could not help but feel saddened for the blacksmith's daughter. She had been young and in love and had it all robbed from her. Her loss had been my gain and I couldn't find pleasure in that, I would one day know her pain as I aged and Kieran did not.

Once I was able to stand, I faced the semi circle of graves. The hairs on my arms raised and my hair was chased by a sudden breeze. I marked the moment with silent respect. For a moment I had touched their world with my fingertips though I stood four hundred years in the future.

"I'll look after him," I said. In spite of the betrayal that still stung me to my deepest core, Kieran meant enough to me that I wanted to resolve everything. I wanted to understand him and he wanted to understand me and truly, I wished to take care of him while time would allow.

I turned to the final headstone in the row, questioning it's purpose of the final headstone. Again I placed my hand it, Kieran's name beneath my fingers. Was thiis how he laid his old life to rest, in the company of those he had loved in life?

"You really are remarkable Indigo Boy." A grin teased at my lips as I backed away.

I felt more at peace with myself as I made my way back through the trees. Though anger simmered beneath the surface, no good would come of my tantrum. No, I would await explanation and decide my feelings from there.

In my calm I appreciated the chatter of bird song and the warm of the sun as it broke through the trees. Though I could not have guessed how long I had been away, the sun was not so startling and I could not have ventured away long enough to cause concern. And still, I felt as though I'd spent a life time away.

As I stepped out from the shelter of the trees I saw the mansion, proudly sat upon the hill.

You know what they say about a man with a house like that; big house, small...

Interrupting my train of thought was the sight of a small, phantom figure in one of the top windows. I blinked unsure if I had really it but she was there. She wore, from a glance, what looked like an old fashioned white night gown. Her icy blue stare sent shivers down my back, like Kierans', and similarly to my first encounter with the Indigo Boy, I was somehow afraid.

I blinked again but this time she was gone. I couldn't understand it. Looking to the grass wasn't now doing much for finding answers either. Once more I looked up to the windows, it was the third one to the left from the centre.