the front lines of that battle," he paused, a somber expression covering his face, "and those with me do not long survive it."
He stopped, considering his apple once more. I should have heeded his ominous words more carefully, but I could only get my mind to fixate on certain things.
"Are you an angel?" I asked. He shook his head, so I tried a different approach. "Was Caenwyld a demon?"
"No," Arkael mused. "It's not that simple."
He offered no more information and I didn't have the will to pursue it, even though I should have, given his rare moment of introspection. Instead, I went to sleep, content that I’d found what I was looking for. I would travel with Arkael, and see where his journey took him. I had time to find out what he was, now. With luck I would begin to learn all these things tomorrow.
Chapter 6
The nightmares began that night.
I stood in Rogwallow, only this was a horrid, twisted version of the place I knew. The skies were dark, the houses decayed and crumbling, the grass and the animals dying. All of it corrupted by the evil brought forth by Caenwyld. He stood in front of the church door, preventing me from getting inside, where I would be safe. He looked as he did in life, only bigger, his bony features more pronounced, and his eyes were missing. In their place were two empty holes that leaked blood, only the blood was thick and black, congealed, and as it fell to the ground, it spread, killing everything it touched.
He spoke to me. At first he just repeated what he’d said in the church, about keeping my limbs, and needing only a tongue to do my duty. But I expected that. Once I realized what he was saying, and what he would say next, I didn’t fear him or his threats. But then he strayed. He lifted his head, his empty sockets somehow staring directly at me, and he spoke five little words that woke me from my slumber in a cold sweat.
I find you interesting, priest.
I had trouble sleeping after that. It wasn’t Caenwyld’s words that kept me awake, it was the fact that the nightmare spoke directly to me. Caenwyld, or rather this monster made to look like him, had invaded my mind, and turned his dark gaze my direction, as if suddenly discovering me in my hiding place, and that notion troubled me the remainder of the night.
I must have finally drifted back to sleep, though, because the sound of stomping roused me. I reluctantly opened my eyes to see the early morning hues of sunlight through the branches, and even though I didn't feel the least bit rested I thanked God that the night was over. I rolled over and saw Arkael kicking dirt over the remains of the fire from last night. When he saw me awake he tossed an apple at me, grabbed his bag and walked north.
"Don't fall too far behind," he said. "The bandits around here get up early."
In my waking state, it took a moment to fully grasp his meaning. Both the nightmare and the memories of yesterday were hazy and distant but as Arkael wandered away they flooded back into my mind.
“…Angels and demons…”
“…walk the front lines of that battle…”
“… those with me do not long survive it.”
I winced, realizing that the nightmare was more real than I cared to admit.
I dragged myself off the hard ground, spurred to coherence by the thought of bandits pouncing on me, then froze when my muscles fought back. My legs were tight and unwilling to move, and I can only imagine the awkward sight I portrayed in trying to stand up without bending my limbs more than I had to. Once I got my feet under me I had to stay completely still until my legs relaxed enough for me to hobble off after him.
“So where is it we’re going?” I asked, once I caught up.
“This way,” he said, as if that answered my question. I would have pushed him for more information, especially about the menacing comments he made last night, but after working so hard to find him, I didn’t want to make him regret my company. So I stayed quiet, choosing instead
He stopped, considering his apple once more. I should have heeded his ominous words more carefully, but I could only get my mind to fixate on certain things.
"Are you an angel?" I asked. He shook his head, so I tried a different approach. "Was Caenwyld a demon?"
"No," Arkael mused. "It's not that simple."
He offered no more information and I didn't have the will to pursue it, even though I should have, given his rare moment of introspection. Instead, I went to sleep, content that I’d found what I was looking for. I would travel with Arkael, and see where his journey took him. I had time to find out what he was, now. With luck I would begin to learn all these things tomorrow.
Chapter 6
The nightmares began that night.
I stood in Rogwallow, only this was a horrid, twisted version of the place I knew. The skies were dark, the houses decayed and crumbling, the grass and the animals dying. All of it corrupted by the evil brought forth by Caenwyld. He stood in front of the church door, preventing me from getting inside, where I would be safe. He looked as he did in life, only bigger, his bony features more pronounced, and his eyes were missing. In their place were two empty holes that leaked blood, only the blood was thick and black, congealed, and as it fell to the ground, it spread, killing everything it touched.
He spoke to me. At first he just repeated what he’d said in the church, about keeping my limbs, and needing only a tongue to do my duty. But I expected that. Once I realized what he was saying, and what he would say next, I didn’t fear him or his threats. But then he strayed. He lifted his head, his empty sockets somehow staring directly at me, and he spoke five little words that woke me from my slumber in a cold sweat.
I find you interesting, priest.
I had trouble sleeping after that. It wasn’t Caenwyld’s words that kept me awake, it was the fact that the nightmare spoke directly to me. Caenwyld, or rather this monster made to look like him, had invaded my mind, and turned his dark gaze my direction, as if suddenly discovering me in my hiding place, and that notion troubled me the remainder of the night.
I must have finally drifted back to sleep, though, because the sound of stomping roused me. I reluctantly opened my eyes to see the early morning hues of sunlight through the branches, and even though I didn't feel the least bit rested I thanked God that the night was over. I rolled over and saw Arkael kicking dirt over the remains of the fire from last night. When he saw me awake he tossed an apple at me, grabbed his bag and walked north.
"Don't fall too far behind," he said. "The bandits around here get up early."
In my waking state, it took a moment to fully grasp his meaning. Both the nightmare and the memories of yesterday were hazy and distant but as Arkael wandered away they flooded back into my mind.
“…Angels and demons…”
“…walk the front lines of that battle…”
“… those with me do not long survive it.”
I winced, realizing that the nightmare was more real than I cared to admit.
I dragged myself off the hard ground, spurred to coherence by the thought of bandits pouncing on me, then froze when my muscles fought back. My legs were tight and unwilling to move, and I can only imagine the awkward sight I portrayed in trying to stand up without bending my limbs more than I had to. Once I got my feet under me I had to stay completely still until my legs relaxed enough for me to hobble off after him.
“So where is it we’re going?” I asked, once I caught up.
“This way,” he said, as if that answered my question. I would have pushed him for more information, especially about the menacing comments he made last night, but after working so hard to find him, I didn’t want to make him regret my company. So I stayed quiet, choosing instead
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