Thaddeus D. Argon & Arden
"It is said that we are the instruments of our own downfall."
- Daniel Jorweg
___________
Mood piece:
Quiet morning.
”Where'd you get this thing?”
”The chair? My old man made it for 'Grinny' way back when, never got to deliver it because the bugger took off... Shows that the old man knew a thing or two about his craft as well as some woodcraft – never imagined I'd use it for what it was intended.”
”But that was sixty years ago, didn't know you to be the sentimental type to hold onto a chair with two wheels on it.”
”I found use for it every once it a while, like I said – never knew I'd use for its actual purpose. Well, maybe when I'd grow older or piss off the wrong person.”
”What use could you – on second hand, I rather not know.... Knowing you it has something to do with your usual womanizing...”
”Pff, you think low of me.... But accurate...”
”And you're making me sit in this thing!”
”Beggars can't be choosers.”
Arden and Rufus finally arrived to the edge of the slums that had been mostly abandoned even by those without home or shelter. Everything was in state of decay and ruination, almost like a battle had raged through the small portion of the large desert city – all because of a single building in middle of it all. Wind and sand had molded the unattended buildings into new shapes, yet strangely the old infirmary was still standing mostly. Reason might have been the other buildings surrounding it tightly and sheltering it from time and weather, yet time had not left it untouched.
Rufus kept shoving the wheel chair forth through the sand covered pavement, before halting before the building and sighed as if having found a long lost treasure. “Here we are, the doctor's office – brings back old memories. Heh, he used to buy fruit and hand it out to kids that were running around. Appearances certainly are deceiving.”, he exclaimed to himself as he forced the door open. Curiosity had taken the better of Arden and the statement nearly flew past her as she waited to see what was inside that Rufus so wanted to show her. She was still skeptical towards his claims, but she had known him long as her personal smith.
“I reiterate, it isn't like you to be sentimental. I thought you were more towards going after something and then discarding after it had fulfilled your momentary desires.”, Arden glanced around the room as Rufus lifted her through the door that was far too narrow to fit the chair. “And you are less explosive, extravagant and noisy than you usually are – situation seems to be having an affect on the both of us.”, Rufus muttered as he rested Arden down onto a desk. It creaked under the weight of her and its own old age, but managed to hold her for now.
Around them opened the reception room, with a small desk and shelves that must have been filled with potions, herbs and ingredients at one point in their history. The wall between reception and infirmary had partially collapsed and revealed a wide space where beds must have once been for those under the doctor's treatment. Dust and sand covered most of the surfaces and bed frames or what remained of them, much like they covered everything else in the building. As she was eyeing the interior and wondering about the true dark history and secrets it held, Rufus had vanished for a brief moment. It was the sudden bang of him dropping something covered in a sheet onto the floor and cursing that drew Arden's attention to him entering the room from a different door.
“Where'd you go off to? Is that what you wanted to show me?”
“Yeah, I recalled him having something like this here since one artist that used to live on the street painted it for him.”
“Wait, a painting? I can hardly believe that a painting would have lasted here in any sensible condition not to mention not get looted.”
“Yeah, but who would want a painting of a lunatic – no matter who painted it. The artist paid himself sick due to admiration towards the doctor, he used to be rather loved by those around here. He used paints, brushes and canvas enchanted with magic to make them last. Though it only has made it a bit more durable.”
“Well then, if you say so – thought I find that hard to believe. Why would you waste money making a painting that expensive for someone like the doctor.”
“Because he was a good man before the ugly truth was revealed. It might sound corny, but he almost looked like a saint in comparison to most others that the city held. And before that his smile was known as a source of comfort and warmth, kindness – after the truth it was one of horror and dread.”
Rufus finally lifted the large frame against a chair across Arden, before pulling off the sheet, revealing to her amazement something extremely familiar. On the slightly faded canvas was a perfect painting of Thaddeus, staring straight at her with those bizarre eyes of different color – with he usual goofy, yet kind smile on his face. It was hard to believe at first, but then again the man had claimed to be old and was also a mystery as he claimed to be something no one had ever head about.
“That sure is him, though he has lost a lot of muscle – though he knows how to hide it with his strange dance.”
“So you believe me now?”
“I guess I sort of have to. But it still doesn't damn him, he has helped me and Othin – even going to the point of self harm with it.”
“Sounds like what he was before the truth came out. But there is something I need to tell you, something I overheard him and his teacher argue about when he was watching over you one night.”
“What? That it isn't right to watch people in their sleep?”, in truth the idea of someone watching over her irked her quite a bit. Especially if it was the old man that had been there when she woke up.
“No...”
“Well come on, tell me what it is since you started to.”
“Ehm... Yeesh, How'd I put this lightly....”
Rufus was clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to say, he squirmed on his spot for the longest time. Ruffling his hair around, before brushing it away from his face and then ruffling it again. Stepping back and forth, he was trying to find the correct words for something that he clearly knew would upset the woman in one way or another – or at the very least cause some form of a scene. It began to drag long enough to make Arden impatient and call out to him.
“Rufus! Tell me what it was that you wanted me to hear then?”
“He pierced Othin's chest with you when you were fighting that Mathias guy.”
In the instant he said that, the heat of the desert seemed to vanish from the room. The woman he stared at lost even the slightest of cheer on her face and stared at him with a dreadfully blank expression. But he knew that expression, when ever someone had harmed or almost harmed Othin it appeared. He had only seen it twice and neither of those times the end result was anything good.
“I was hoping he'd tell it to you himself, but I doubte-”
“Take me back..”
“...”
“Take me back there, this instant.”
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