Renagade

Part 15

The North rarely had elvish or Sekhmet people traveling. The people here were hard and loud, but honest for the most part. As Chauncy had traveled further North, he had become more of an oddity, and people seemed to pay him more attention, even before he spoke of raising and over throwing the king and his daughter, but he had kept his head down here, and yet people still noticed him. The more places he stopped, the more people asked him if he was Sancticellium. It had ceased to be just a cult of religious fanatics, but had become almost a rallying cry.

He sipped from his tankard and asked for another one. The drink was hearty, just like the people and it reminded him of the Architect and his City. He wondered if they still lived in the same little burrow, and talked about the same old stories, he smiled at the thought of them, they had been a light in a dark time, and he wondered if they had known about Eveyln and Mother. He felt his head grow lighter and he could feel his body sagging against the bar, but he didn't care. The evening went on and the laughter died down as a bard began a song.

Shadows fall and the roses bloom

The Darkness comes and the falcon cries

The Mother grows and her child cries

The war is soon, and all will die

The King is false and the Snake survives

It sheds its skin and poisonous fangs

A darkened king offered her his crown

His hands, his heart, and all he owned

And yet she turned from him and gone

Fore she knew his true his beliefs

Soon the dawn will bloom from night

The fires of dark will be subdued

Manholm comes and will again

Rule this world from suffering

We do not know, from whence he comes

Keep your heart and do not cry

He will come.

The melody haunted him as her voice floated high into the air, and he wrestled with the meaning of the song. Eveyln had been called the snake when she was with the king, could she have really changed? The bard changed her tune and found a rowdy drinking song, and though the alcohol inside of him, gave him a light head, the heart was heavy. Was he wrong about her? No...he couldn't possibly be wrong about her...She had haunted him, tortured him in his dreams. She had made him feel vulnerable and exposed and she had exploited it.

"She's asleep now Chauncy," Baelish appeared next to him, his tattooed face brightening in the rambunctiousness of the crowded place. Chauncy glared at him and waved at the barman to bring another drink. "You should stop drinking," he said, placing his hand on Chauncy's outstretched arm.

"Look, Baelish. You came here to talk about raising an army, we talked about raising an army. What more do you want from me?" He could feel color rising in his cheeks, but god damn it all. Baelish had disappeared and then popped up to bring him hell. What else was he supposed to do? And now it seems like he was siding with the enemy. Baelish frowned at him, and rolled his eyes.

"She's trying her hardest to subdue that Being inside of her, the very least you could do is believe her,"

"I don't love her,"