Un Souvenir d'Événements

June 1844 (Continued)

Had I thought that meeting Erik again in this time and place was miraculous before, it was nothing compared to what I thought now. Now, I realised that it must have been practically impossible after everything he'd been through.

Naturally we sat in silence for a while after he'd finished telling his tale. It took me some time to process everything I'd heard, yet I knew it was no work of fiction that he had conjured up in his mind.

As I looked at him, I could see the marks that his past had left upon him, both physical and otherwise. His hands were rough and worn from labour and his fingers were much the same, likely from playing the violin. His thin frame was deceptive as I could see his muscle beneath the bones that served as his arms. But it was his eyes that marked the truth in what he told me, the emotion I saw dancing within them as he regaled me with his past, the truth in what he told me was undeniable.

"And now I am destined for Persia." He said airily, sitting on a chair opposite me.

I could only sit and watch him, astounded by his sudden change in character. He'd told me a tale of death, peril and discovery as casually as one might recount the previous week in their life where nothing particularly interesting happened.

Erik watched me closely, waiting expectantly for my reply. He never took those incredible amber eyes away from me. The eyes that had seen more in his few years of life than I would in my own lifetime.

"I'm so sorry..." I eventually managed to whisper.

He shrugged, "you don't owe me an apology; none of this was a fault of yours."

"On the contrary, it was completely my fault. Had I rescued you from that fair as I'd promised, you would not have suffered like this. You would have lived a better life."

Erik watched me again for a while. I remember finding his stare slightly disconcerting at the time; I don't find that however, I've grown used to his ineptitude to act as others might. Despite his infinite genius, it's the simplest of things that Erik cannot comprehend. Take friendship for example, I'm quite certain he hasn't grasped the concept to this day.

"I had my suspicions that you blamed yourself for my plight Nadir. You needn't, truly. I have never blamed you, I never will."

I nodded, thanking him softly for his words as I sat in silence, trying to wrap my head around the absurdity of what I was faced with. Erik was alive, and he was currently sat opposite me on a chair as casual as one could be, with not a care in the world, and here was I, a wreck after hearing about his life since we'd parted. How could he be so calm?! It was as impressive as it was infuriating to see him devoid of any emotion whilst I cried into the remains of my evening meal.

After this however, the evening was relatively uneventful. Erik remained with me, sleeping upon a divan in the corner of the room whilst I slept in the bed, this I felt quite guilty about but he didn't mind in the slightest.

The following morning, after stocking up on supplies and eating a good breakfast, we began the long journey back to Mazandaran. Erik had his own horse, a beautiful black mare who I suspected was the same horse he'd stolen when he escaped the fair. She had perhaps travelled just as far as Ladarius had which gave me faith that she could make the journey.

We rode for many miles over the following weeks, often times camping beneath the stars. Our ramshackle tent had room for us both, and served as reliable enough protection from the elements, though Erik was astoundingly tall and his height often made our tent cramped.

We had little choice but to remain together some nights, which he initially argued against, complaining of my "incessant snoring" that would prevent him from sleeping, which explained his tiredness the following day. But when I stayed awake long enough for him to fall asleep before me, I realised that this was simply an excuse for the true cause of his fatigue.