Daniel shifted in the small tent he shared with Lana among Krellins tents. With a smile, he kissed her softly on the cheek then fully extracted himself from their combined bedroll. It had been a long time, too long, perhaps since he'd felt such things. Tucking his blanket back around her to ward off the coolness of the desert night, he snatched his robes from the pile at the entrance and stood outside. Immediately he heard a titter of laughter to his left and peering into the pre dawn light he spied a halfling female, who was laughing obviously at his state of undress. With a laugh of his own, he shrugged into his robes. Let them laugh, he thought. I am happy for the first time in many years.
Fall, 1524?
I realized I have forgotten the count of seasons that have passed. Sad to say, but I seem to have mostly retired in the intervening years. Aye, I still work at some of my crafts and fullfull a rare order with the Angels, and the occasional adventure with Lana, my beloved songstress.
In truth, it is my sons in name if not blood, Jo and Charlie who continue to go forth into the world. Both are alike and different at the same time. Charlie reminds me of mine own father, but his enthusiasm is tempered by my own influence. While not wise, his natural ambitions drive him. I worry, but know that his fate is firmly in his own hands with my prayers to the Gold for his protection always. Jo remains the perfect son, but I know the Dragon will test him every day on his vows and oaths. Still, I am proud of them both for being men who listen to their own hearts.
I am content with this, it is, as it should be.
Daniel Benjamin Poetr
High Protector and Knight Captain of the Wyrm.
Sleep draws you down quickly into an inky blackness. There is no transition; your eyes close and then there is nothing but black. You feel detached...disembodied, floating in a desolate and unending void, fully aware but with nothing to make the passage of time.
...You float...
...and then there is light.
Your mind explodes in pain from the sudden brightness. At first, you can only see light and vague shapes.
...and there is sound.
The flutter and hiss of every leaf and every blade of grass, as individual sounds, resonate in your mind.
Your vision clears, slowly. Your mind still spins from the sensations that assault you. Your vision is not what you expect, and instead you see everything in every direction at one time.
You see a wagon, and several people. One is you. Several run.
...and a voice that is yours rings in your ears, though you do not speak.
Halt! Or be slain!
Your mind reels, pain saturates your entire being and your vision blurs and spins briefly before settling again.
You see the cart again, and a woman bound. Several stand around her. One is you. Your voice again coming from the you that you see.
He dishonored our order, death is too easy a sentence for him, I say.
And again.
Perhaps you should whisper in that one's ear, my dear?
Your world explodes in pain as the very air shatters around you, and you nearly black out completely as you begin to slide back into the inky void.
Your vision clears.
Your mind calms.
You see the bound one again.
One of the others strikes her. You feel the impact. Your world spins again.
The others speak. You hear them, but they are muted and indistinct.
The image of yourself in your vision is the only thing you see clearly. Your actions and your inaction are seen in exacting detail. Your voice rings clearly.
Brother Aesthir would be within his rights to simply execute the criminal
Your vision clears somewhat, letting you see more again.
The bound one slips her bindings. There is a glint of a blade in your panoramic view. The you that you see sees it too, and that you slaps it away. One of the others topples the prisoner with magic. You recoil from the force. Your voice rings again.
As I said, a criminal. She was about to attack a Knight of the Wyrm.
One of the others strikes the magically-subdued prisoner. You feel every impact at your core. On the third strike, all is blackness.
...but it is not empty.
There is sound... Words...in your voice and in the voices of others, some familiar, some not. Words overlap, but some are clearer than others.
Virture....Honor...Justice....Evil...Protect...Law
You hear sermons given by clergy. You hear oaths you have taken. To Rofirein. To the Order.
The voices fade, and your vision brightens. A scene takes shape before you...around you.
It is a trial.
You feel a weight upon your being, pressing at you from all sides.
You see yourself. You see the others. You see the once-bound woman. You see it all. You see it twice.
In one, the woman enters at your side. The trial unfolds before you, though you cannot hear. Moments pass, blur and remain indistinct. The trial ends, and there is a mixture of feelings. The weight surrounding you ebbs and disappears, but yet there is a sense of loss, or perhaps, a sense of consequence. All is muted and grey.
In the other, the woman enters at the side of Another. The trial unfolds before you, though you cannot hear. Moments pass, blur and remain indistinct. The trial ends, and there is blackness. You fall, and the sensation of falling does not end for some time.
Your fall slows and stops, and you float again in an infinite void of nothing. Time passes but you cannot measure it.
In the distance, you see points of light. The pattern is familiar and one you see each night. Have they always been there? Almost imperceptibly, they begin to fade.
And there is a voice. It is not yours. It comes from everywhere and nowhere. It is big...bigger than you can comprehend...yet it is not loud. It speaks only a single word.
CHOOSE
You awaken with the word hanging in your mind. Unlike falling asleep, your return to consciousness is abrupt, sharp and jarring. The sensations of the real world crash in on you and press down on you like a weight of sand. Your skin is wet with sweat and your body shakes. For a couple of minutes it is all you can do to control your breathing as your heart seems to do its best to jump from your chest.
At last you are calm. It is still dark and the night is deep. It is still several hours before dawn, but you do not find sleep again for the remainder of the night.
Daniel paces the small apartment until dawn, his bootsteps counterpointing his heartbeat as they tread the wooden floor. His mind going over the images and feelings he experienced in the night. Finally, as the sun makes it appearance, he pens a note,
Lana,
I have gone to Vehl Temple, something has occurred to anger the Dragon and I must make amends as I am able. I shall send word, in a few weeks time.
Yours in the Dragon,
Daniel.
Letter dispatched from Vehl to 189 Wayfare, Attention: Aylana Poetr
Beloved Lana,
It has been a week since I left hurriedly and I have but little news. It seems I am not be formally charged for the worries I spoke of to you those many weeks ago, but my superiors in both the priesthood and Knighthood are not pleased. I cannot say more than that, not on paper, but I trust you know my heart in all things and perhaps a little of my mind. I shall write again soonest.
Daniel dismounts Edward and gives him a slow brushing, then stakes him out on the hill in Wayfare. Making his way into the apartment, he sits down in his father's white chair and removes the spurs, the symbol of his Knighthood, and gently sets them on the journal of his father. "At least the Section Commander said I would be reinstated in time." He muses pulling the Knight Claw from its sheath on his hip and setting in the corner next to the desk. "Until then, I am what precisely?" Daniel folds his hands in his lap, lips pursed as he contemplates what has occurred.
Long hours pass, Daniel remains locked in deep thought, the apartment empty and quiet. Finally, he frowns and pens a letter explaining all that has occurred to Lana with a simple "P.S. Look for me in Vehl. A penance must be paid in service." With that he divests himself of all his Knightly gear, leaving it in a chest in his room. Taking up his staff, he makes for the squalid city on the Mistonian coast.
(some weeks later)
An older man, wearing white to grey robes with staff takes a job as a ship loader on the docks. He works tirelessly, but at the end of his shift takes long walks through the narrow streets of Vehl. He says little unless pressed and those who study him, note he seems to miss very little, whether it is a petty crime in an alley near, the cries of harlots calling for custom, or the laments of beggars. Several weeks to a month go by and still the old man takes his walks, slowly becoming familiar if not known to those who live in the squalor.
Several months go by and the old man now has a ragged beard and cloak to go with his now grey robes, the faded symbol of a dragon can still be made out on his chest. He continues his walks, occasionally stopping to talk to various street persons. When asked who is , he simply responds that he is a protector and offers healing of the mundane variety. If refused he moves on without a word. He seems to be living in an alley behind the orphanage most of the time and carries few valuables other than few rings and a medallion he keeps carefuly covered and next to his skin at all times. Mostly, he remains watchful, adding the guards and temple guardians to his observations.
Daniel's observations continue for several weeks. Finally, he makes his way to the temple. Justicar Reus recognizes him immediately, but says nothing as Daniel makes his way to the altar in his grubby robes. Bowing his head, Daniel speaks quietly almost in prayer, "All - Seeing, you have seen what I have seen and more." Daniel pauses and looks up at the figure of the Dragon, "I have prayed many times and always I have felt your fire burn inside my chest, but I feel now that I have displeased you and have sought humility among the common people, to see this world through their eyes. I cannot say I have liked what I saw nor can I imagine have you. Perhaps I have lost my way or perhaps..just perhaps your gifts were never meant for one such as I. I have changed over the years whereas you have not. I see this now very clearly. In my hubris, I assumed you answered my prayers because I was in the right, but now I am filled with doubt. Doubt in my path, doubt in my faith, doubt about all that I was and am. To this doubt, I lay one question at your feet, Great Dragon, what is your will? Is there room for many voices in your order, some of them in dissent, or shall I resign myself as an outcast and no longer call myself your servant?" Daniel stops there, the long months of living a hard life overwhelming him and he sleeps for a time undisturbed.
A gentle hand shook his shoulder, and Daniel was instantly awake. "Daniel, wake up, it's me, Lana. Mother sent me to get you, you're needed at the Guild."
'Oh bother' was his first thought , his second was one of embarrassment. He'd been living like a street person for months and while not a captain presently, still had some rank, as in the stink variety. Still, this was Lana and she had come for him. Daniel opened his eyes and shifted taking in the beautiful raven haired woman with his eyes, "Hello Dear," scratching his silvering scraggly beard - it really had grown in thick without a razor to tame it, "What does Ferrit need this time?"
"Barly flour, corn, silver...", Lana's melodic voice droned on with a ever growing list.
Daniel glanced back to the altar and the towering symbol of the Dragon for a moment, digesting this before turning back to his wife, "I have dishonored myself, dear, I'm being punished and am no longer a Knight nor the High Protector I once was, do you understand?"
Lana shook her head slightly grinning, "What I understand is that you need a bath - you stink, and I think you've been here long enough, dear. Oh, and I saw Storold in Center, I think you should talk to him. Now get up and let's find a portal. " There was steel in her voice now on the last, perhaps it was time to give over this non serving self pity before she decided something more drastic than words. Lana didn't often show her temper, but when she did it was fiery and ice cold all at once. It was part of her charm he thought with a small grin.
"Yes dear." Daniel rose and led them both to a portal. Once in Center, Lana gave him a firm shove in the direction of the stream. After a good wash, Daniel had to admit he did feel better, rubbing his face, he found Lana picking barly by the Herbalist's hut. "And the beard, love?"
"Keep it, it's almost long enough to be soft. Did you see Storold warming his bench by the Inn?"
"Aye, I did."
"Go speak to him then we can decide where to go next, Daniel." Her tone, once again, dissauded any real argument.
Daniel approached the man, noting while still bald, he hadn't lost any more hair despite being some years Daniels senior. The bench, lacking a backside to polish for so long had lost some of its luster, but that was sure to be remedied. The master of sitting had returned. "Sir, do you have a few moments? I have some questions."
The back and forth of their conversation was only broken once by Lana returning with a small bag of flour. In the end, despite his doubts, the old man spoke sense. There was room for many points of view under any order, there simply had to be. After all, mortals are flawed and can never truly know the mind of a god or goddess, much less be in perfect agreement. All they can do is strive to that ideal. Relieved by the revelation, Daniel thanked Storold and turned to Lana. "Silver eh? I think we can manage that my dear."
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Topic: Gifts of the Lord Protector (Read 9988 times)
