(no subject)
Here is the newest installment. I was dreaming when I wrote this, so forgive me if... well, if it isn't so great.
PART FIVE
"Just another day in search of paradise, come and gone," the gunslinger thought out loud with a sigh. Michael looked up with a start.
"Hmm? I'm sorry, D, I was lost in my thoughts. What was that you said about paradise?" It had been four days sence the pyre, and the two had found that they were good company on the road.
"Oh, just something my brother and I used to say." the gunslinger smiled at the memory, but it was a distant, sad smile. "We were always in search of a divine sanctuary to call home, someplace to belong, you know? Even as kids. Everyday turned up nothing, and thus began our fruitless search for home." The gunslinger's smile fadded. "We thought differently about where to find it. When he joined Lord Darlithin's army against Emperor Forlen, I left to find freedom."
"Is that when you became a..." He seached for a better word, but found none. "...gunslinger?"
"No, I first found death, but when he called, I defeated him. An older man took me in, taught me a code to live by." Here he paused, curious if Micheal was making idle conversation or really wanted to know. He seemed interested enough, so D continued. "He taught me the honor of the sword, and the way of the gun. He had been a gunslinger before me, and a swordfighter before that. He is the only man I have ever met with a real concept of honor. I try my best to follow his in his footsteps." He sighed. "Closest thing to a father I have ever known." He said this last remark more to himself than his companion, so Micheal didn't pursue it any further.
They crested the hill and stopped to gaze down upon a small horse ranch, nestled within the valley of three foothills.
His new-found companion gasped at the beauty. The sun was just beginning to set off to the right, between two of the three hills, and the sun hit the house just perfectly. "Wh... who lives here," the man practically whispered in awe. Four beautiful horses lazily played in the back meadow. D reach out to pat Micheal on the shoulder.
"A friend of mine. This is where I keep my horses and come out of the rain." He urged his steed forward, down the hill at a quick pace, his companion following closely.
Reaching the house and dismounting, D began to unstrap the saddle and bridle. Then, opening the gate, gave his mount a pat on the rear, signalling that it could go play or rest at it's desire. Closing the gate, he did the same for Micheal, who was lost in both thought and wonder. As they walked around to the front, Micheal smiled at his new friend, who took note of the change in the teeth. The gunslinger moved a little faster to the door, and invited Micheal in. After a moments hesitation, they were both inside and the door was shut.
Micheal was amazed again at the decor, not what he had expected the ranch to look like. It seemed he had actually stepped into a castle or keep. There were swords or many shapes and designs, as well as many other weapons the man knew little about, excepting the names. There was also a great deal of books of interesting discription and dubious nature everywhere. The gunslinger motioned towards a large, comfortable looking chair in the corner.
"I will find our host, if you would have a seat." Micheal accepted the invitation, and leaned forward in the chair to examine a book. "Do not touch anything. It will do more harm to you than you could imagine. I shall return." With that, D disappeared through a door.
Micheal relaxed and closed his eyes...
It was dark by the time he opened them, and he streached. It was the smell that had awoken him. He wasn't sure where it was comming from. deciding to stay in his seat, he gazed out the window. The sun had set a while ago, and night here was just as beautiful. If only his beloved family was here to see such sights. He held back his tears.
His stomach growled. "Great," he thought, "the perfect thing to keep my mind off of things." He caught the smell again and stood up. Walking around the corner, he came to a door with a soft, yellow light comming from within. He pushed open the door and squinted against the light.
"Ah, Micheal. I am glad you could join us. Our host here just cooked some dinner. Sit and eat with us." The gunslinger motioned towards an empty chair, and his friend sat down without much more than a smile. His eyes adjusting, he gazed around the dinning room. It was furnished simillarly, with weapons and paintings of knights and dragons. He was about to ask about the host when a door opened across the room, producing said host.
"Well met and welcome," said an enchanting, melodic voice. He was surprised to see that it was a beautiful girl, not much older than his daughter had been. She sat a plate in front of him. "You are Micheal then? I am Miranda. Welcome to my home."
He blinked a second, taking a moment to process Miranda, and looked down at the contents of the pate before him. Meat and vegitables. He began eating hungerilly, with no arguments. D and the girl were talking about the events of the last few days somberly, and a realization came over Micheal suddenly, causing him to drop his fork. Standing, he looked around with wide eyes, anticipating. He could almost feel it on the edges of his being, waiting. Miranda looked at him in bewilderment, D went over to him.
"It's ok, you're safe here. You will not transform while in this house. Calm down. Sit..." The gunslinger coaxed him to sit again. "Our host is a sorceress of some talent. There are enough wards and spells on this place to write a book about."
"Sorceress? Spells? What the hell are you talking about?!" Micheal knew he was dreaming. He waited for a dragon to jump out and startle him to wakeness. The gunslinger sighed. "This can't be right. I'm dreaming, right?" The gunslinger shook his head. Miranda looked worried.
"Micheal, a week ago, if I would have told you that you'd be bitten by a werewolf, you would have laughed at me. I'm sure you didn't believe that the Mysic of Kha existed untill I told you I could take you there." He paused. "What makes you think that if werewolves walk this world, which you are living proof of, that sorcery is not real?" Micheal thought about this a moment. This was too much.
Micheal finished his meal without speaking, his mind deeply emersed in thought. Finished, he stood and thanked his young host. Excusing himself to the front room, he fell to the floor, not caring about comfort, and fell into a deep, much needed sleep, leaving all of this non-sence about magic and mystics for his dreams to decipher.
What is paradice, really?
----
The rest can be found here.
I am gonna shower and try to sleep. My head hurts.
Later.
PART FIVE
"Just another day in search of paradise, come and gone," the gunslinger thought out loud with a sigh. Michael looked up with a start.
"Hmm? I'm sorry, D, I was lost in my thoughts. What was that you said about paradise?" It had been four days sence the pyre, and the two had found that they were good company on the road.
"Oh, just something my brother and I used to say." the gunslinger smiled at the memory, but it was a distant, sad smile. "We were always in search of a divine sanctuary to call home, someplace to belong, you know? Even as kids. Everyday turned up nothing, and thus began our fruitless search for home." The gunslinger's smile fadded. "We thought differently about where to find it. When he joined Lord Darlithin's army against Emperor Forlen, I left to find freedom."
"Is that when you became a..." He seached for a better word, but found none. "...gunslinger?"
"No, I first found death, but when he called, I defeated him. An older man took me in, taught me a code to live by." Here he paused, curious if Micheal was making idle conversation or really wanted to know. He seemed interested enough, so D continued. "He taught me the honor of the sword, and the way of the gun. He had been a gunslinger before me, and a swordfighter before that. He is the only man I have ever met with a real concept of honor. I try my best to follow his in his footsteps." He sighed. "Closest thing to a father I have ever known." He said this last remark more to himself than his companion, so Micheal didn't pursue it any further.
They crested the hill and stopped to gaze down upon a small horse ranch, nestled within the valley of three foothills.
His new-found companion gasped at the beauty. The sun was just beginning to set off to the right, between two of the three hills, and the sun hit the house just perfectly. "Wh... who lives here," the man practically whispered in awe. Four beautiful horses lazily played in the back meadow. D reach out to pat Micheal on the shoulder.
"A friend of mine. This is where I keep my horses and come out of the rain." He urged his steed forward, down the hill at a quick pace, his companion following closely.
Reaching the house and dismounting, D began to unstrap the saddle and bridle. Then, opening the gate, gave his mount a pat on the rear, signalling that it could go play or rest at it's desire. Closing the gate, he did the same for Micheal, who was lost in both thought and wonder. As they walked around to the front, Micheal smiled at his new friend, who took note of the change in the teeth. The gunslinger moved a little faster to the door, and invited Micheal in. After a moments hesitation, they were both inside and the door was shut.
Micheal was amazed again at the decor, not what he had expected the ranch to look like. It seemed he had actually stepped into a castle or keep. There were swords or many shapes and designs, as well as many other weapons the man knew little about, excepting the names. There was also a great deal of books of interesting discription and dubious nature everywhere. The gunslinger motioned towards a large, comfortable looking chair in the corner.
"I will find our host, if you would have a seat." Micheal accepted the invitation, and leaned forward in the chair to examine a book. "Do not touch anything. It will do more harm to you than you could imagine. I shall return." With that, D disappeared through a door.
Micheal relaxed and closed his eyes...
It was dark by the time he opened them, and he streached. It was the smell that had awoken him. He wasn't sure where it was comming from. deciding to stay in his seat, he gazed out the window. The sun had set a while ago, and night here was just as beautiful. If only his beloved family was here to see such sights. He held back his tears.
His stomach growled. "Great," he thought, "the perfect thing to keep my mind off of things." He caught the smell again and stood up. Walking around the corner, he came to a door with a soft, yellow light comming from within. He pushed open the door and squinted against the light.
"Ah, Micheal. I am glad you could join us. Our host here just cooked some dinner. Sit and eat with us." The gunslinger motioned towards an empty chair, and his friend sat down without much more than a smile. His eyes adjusting, he gazed around the dinning room. It was furnished simillarly, with weapons and paintings of knights and dragons. He was about to ask about the host when a door opened across the room, producing said host.
"Well met and welcome," said an enchanting, melodic voice. He was surprised to see that it was a beautiful girl, not much older than his daughter had been. She sat a plate in front of him. "You are Micheal then? I am Miranda. Welcome to my home."
He blinked a second, taking a moment to process Miranda, and looked down at the contents of the pate before him. Meat and vegitables. He began eating hungerilly, with no arguments. D and the girl were talking about the events of the last few days somberly, and a realization came over Micheal suddenly, causing him to drop his fork. Standing, he looked around with wide eyes, anticipating. He could almost feel it on the edges of his being, waiting. Miranda looked at him in bewilderment, D went over to him.
"It's ok, you're safe here. You will not transform while in this house. Calm down. Sit..." The gunslinger coaxed him to sit again. "Our host is a sorceress of some talent. There are enough wards and spells on this place to write a book about."
"Sorceress? Spells? What the hell are you talking about?!" Micheal knew he was dreaming. He waited for a dragon to jump out and startle him to wakeness. The gunslinger sighed. "This can't be right. I'm dreaming, right?" The gunslinger shook his head. Miranda looked worried.
"Micheal, a week ago, if I would have told you that you'd be bitten by a werewolf, you would have laughed at me. I'm sure you didn't believe that the Mysic of Kha existed untill I told you I could take you there." He paused. "What makes you think that if werewolves walk this world, which you are living proof of, that sorcery is not real?" Micheal thought about this a moment. This was too much.
Micheal finished his meal without speaking, his mind deeply emersed in thought. Finished, he stood and thanked his young host. Excusing himself to the front room, he fell to the floor, not caring about comfort, and fell into a deep, much needed sleep, leaving all of this non-sence about magic and mystics for his dreams to decipher.
What is paradice, really?
----
The rest can be found here.
I am gonna shower and try to sleep. My head hurts.
Later.