wonders about
04-19-2008, 02:07 PM
Just a Heads Up:
I was the girl in the dream but she isn’t me, it was similar to reading a book, as you’ll realize because I saw and knew all sorts of things going on with the boy that she wouldn’t. The names are fabricated for your benefit because there were no names in the dream.
__ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ .
As Gabe slowly opened his eyes, the welcome sight of Ariel’s face looked down at him. She was kneeling by him, concern painted on her features. “I-I took your knife,” she suddenly said, and in defense from his immediate reaction of anger, she rushed forward. “It is hurting you! Look, I’m sorry, I’ll give it back, I didn’t mean anything by it, and… Gabe, I don’t know what power this has, but it is hurting you!”
“Hand it to me.”
Answering automatically to his demand, Ariel placed the hilt into his hand. Flinching and the blade stung in his hand, Gabe, let the knife clatter to the ground.
Leaning slowly over the edge of the bed, he picked the knife up and saw, then the blood on the blade. What happened, he asked softly, grimacing as he rose to the table.
“Well, you were injured, but of course, you know that,” she stuttered, watching him carefully use the cloth and bowl of hand washing water to clean the knife carefully without touching the blade. “So, you-you were unconscious when we were attacked, and I had your knife- and- and I,” collapsing forward, she hugged her knees to her, shaking with sobs as she remembered, remembered the blind struggle, feeling the blade sink in, the body shudder and suddenly grow heavy. As she sank to the floor, she heard the knife splash into the water and strong arms enclosed her, pulling her back from her memories.
“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry,” he murmured rocking slowly. But she didn’t know how sorry. The blade gave great power to kill, it was almost impossible to lose a fight, but he had not for centuries done it. A week ago, as he tried to protect himself and her without it, he had been badly injured. Though they had escaped, he hadn’t the strength to go far. While he slept she had used the opportunity to take the blade. He never used it, and she could see that its presence often pained him, yet some power held him from abandoning it. It hadn’t seemed wrong. But when they were attacked she hadn’t meant to kill, she didn’t even know that she could. Like a child, she had fled the scene, pulling Gabe up to the road. When a farmer cart pulled up beside them, she had allowed the man to lift Gabe into it and take them to his home, soon he would return and she knew that he should not find them like this, he would ask what was the matter and she could not answer.
Gabe released Ariel as she pushed lightly against him, “I’m sorry,” he whispered as she rose.
“What for? You haven’t done anything,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes and looking him over. “Get back in bed you. You’ll start bleeding again.”
Smiling grimly, he lay back down and watched her back as she picked up the bowl and cloth to wash them out somewhere beyond the door. Once she was gone, he rose, of course, she had little experience with dark-bloods, she wouldn’t know that he was nearly healed already. The only pain had come from the knife, but she wouldn’t know about that either.
When she was out of sight, presumably at a nearby water source, he rose, taking the knife with him and strode into the woods. Sitting under the canopy, he placed the flat of the blade into the palm of his hand, one man, she had killed one man. This was his only chance yet to be rid of the blade, he would not take it though, Gabe could not justify, to himself, condemning any other, her most of all, to his fate. He could feel the building restlessness, it would kill him soon it he did not accept it or force it on another. Pressing the flat of his blade hard against his palm, he swiftly turned it and drew it back, cutting a deep line into his flesh. A wash of memories rushed over him. A whole lifetime, a boy-child climbing a tree, playing with his friends in a river, witnessing the murder of his parents, trained as an assassin, sent on mission after mission, meeting a woman like no other, children, first a girl, then two boys, not knowing when he would leave and never return to them, not knowing why or even who truly sent him, told to find a man, Gabriel, facing a girl, wondering where her strength came from as the knife slipped impossibly through his ribs, his life drawn out of him, spilling over the forest floor.
As night fell the farmer returned to find the girl in tears and the bed empty. Eventually he found the boy in the forest, unconscious, grasping at a mortal wound, which didn’t exist, mourning the loss of a wife, of children who would never want him. Of course, the farmer did not know why he clutched at his side nor did he know what drew forth the barely audible moans.
__ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ .
Everything got kind of smooshed together and strange after that. Gabe may have told Ariel, or maybe he had a flashback and I just saw it, or perhaps I didn’t understand so my brain just made something up, I dunno. Anyway, it went like a thousand years into the past (maybe Egypt or Greece or perhaps it was a Druidess… I don’t remember) anyway it explained how he got the knife(and stopped aging) and the woman who gave it to him I think. If I ever can remember enough to sort it out I’ll edit this and add it in. So… any thoughts?
I was the girl in the dream but she isn’t me, it was similar to reading a book, as you’ll realize because I saw and knew all sorts of things going on with the boy that she wouldn’t. The names are fabricated for your benefit because there were no names in the dream.
__ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ .
As Gabe slowly opened his eyes, the welcome sight of Ariel’s face looked down at him. She was kneeling by him, concern painted on her features. “I-I took your knife,” she suddenly said, and in defense from his immediate reaction of anger, she rushed forward. “It is hurting you! Look, I’m sorry, I’ll give it back, I didn’t mean anything by it, and… Gabe, I don’t know what power this has, but it is hurting you!”
“Hand it to me.”
Answering automatically to his demand, Ariel placed the hilt into his hand. Flinching and the blade stung in his hand, Gabe, let the knife clatter to the ground.
Leaning slowly over the edge of the bed, he picked the knife up and saw, then the blood on the blade. What happened, he asked softly, grimacing as he rose to the table.
“Well, you were injured, but of course, you know that,” she stuttered, watching him carefully use the cloth and bowl of hand washing water to clean the knife carefully without touching the blade. “So, you-you were unconscious when we were attacked, and I had your knife- and- and I,” collapsing forward, she hugged her knees to her, shaking with sobs as she remembered, remembered the blind struggle, feeling the blade sink in, the body shudder and suddenly grow heavy. As she sank to the floor, she heard the knife splash into the water and strong arms enclosed her, pulling her back from her memories.
“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry,” he murmured rocking slowly. But she didn’t know how sorry. The blade gave great power to kill, it was almost impossible to lose a fight, but he had not for centuries done it. A week ago, as he tried to protect himself and her without it, he had been badly injured. Though they had escaped, he hadn’t the strength to go far. While he slept she had used the opportunity to take the blade. He never used it, and she could see that its presence often pained him, yet some power held him from abandoning it. It hadn’t seemed wrong. But when they were attacked she hadn’t meant to kill, she didn’t even know that she could. Like a child, she had fled the scene, pulling Gabe up to the road. When a farmer cart pulled up beside them, she had allowed the man to lift Gabe into it and take them to his home, soon he would return and she knew that he should not find them like this, he would ask what was the matter and she could not answer.
Gabe released Ariel as she pushed lightly against him, “I’m sorry,” he whispered as she rose.
“What for? You haven’t done anything,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes and looking him over. “Get back in bed you. You’ll start bleeding again.”
Smiling grimly, he lay back down and watched her back as she picked up the bowl and cloth to wash them out somewhere beyond the door. Once she was gone, he rose, of course, she had little experience with dark-bloods, she wouldn’t know that he was nearly healed already. The only pain had come from the knife, but she wouldn’t know about that either.
When she was out of sight, presumably at a nearby water source, he rose, taking the knife with him and strode into the woods. Sitting under the canopy, he placed the flat of the blade into the palm of his hand, one man, she had killed one man. This was his only chance yet to be rid of the blade, he would not take it though, Gabe could not justify, to himself, condemning any other, her most of all, to his fate. He could feel the building restlessness, it would kill him soon it he did not accept it or force it on another. Pressing the flat of his blade hard against his palm, he swiftly turned it and drew it back, cutting a deep line into his flesh. A wash of memories rushed over him. A whole lifetime, a boy-child climbing a tree, playing with his friends in a river, witnessing the murder of his parents, trained as an assassin, sent on mission after mission, meeting a woman like no other, children, first a girl, then two boys, not knowing when he would leave and never return to them, not knowing why or even who truly sent him, told to find a man, Gabriel, facing a girl, wondering where her strength came from as the knife slipped impossibly through his ribs, his life drawn out of him, spilling over the forest floor.
As night fell the farmer returned to find the girl in tears and the bed empty. Eventually he found the boy in the forest, unconscious, grasping at a mortal wound, which didn’t exist, mourning the loss of a wife, of children who would never want him. Of course, the farmer did not know why he clutched at his side nor did he know what drew forth the barely audible moans.
__ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ . __ .
Everything got kind of smooshed together and strange after that. Gabe may have told Ariel, or maybe he had a flashback and I just saw it, or perhaps I didn’t understand so my brain just made something up, I dunno. Anyway, it went like a thousand years into the past (maybe Egypt or Greece or perhaps it was a Druidess… I don’t remember) anyway it explained how he got the knife(and stopped aging) and the woman who gave it to him I think. If I ever can remember enough to sort it out I’ll edit this and add it in. So… any thoughts?