" αℓℓ σf уσυя ємρту ωσя∂ѕ нα∂ ѕυ¢н αи ιмρα¢т σи мє.
вυт ωє єɴjσу ωαʀмтн вє¢αυѕє ωє нανє bєєɴ ¢σℓd.
ωє αρρяє¢ιαтє ℓιgнт вє¢αυѕє ωє нανє bєєɴ ιɴ dαяkɴєѕѕ.
ву тнє ѕαмє тσkєɴ, ωє ¢αɴ єxρєяιєɴ¢є jσу вє¢αυѕє ωє нανє kɴσωɴ ѕαdɴєѕѕ. "
вυт ωє єɴjσу ωαʀмтн вє¢αυѕє ωє нανє bєєɴ ¢σℓd.
ωє αρρяє¢ιαтє ℓιgнт вє¢αυѕє ωє нανє bєєɴ ιɴ dαяkɴєѕѕ.
ву тнє ѕαмє тσkєɴ, ωє ¢αɴ єxρєяιєɴ¢є jσу вє¢αυѕє ωє нανє kɴσωɴ ѕαdɴєѕѕ. "
- zєfιяιѕ [1739A]
~The only sound ,to be heard, as the mad man laughs...~
~There was a knock on the inns door. It was late at night, but the innkeeper and his wife had been expecting Rockeny around this time of year. He had come for he had recieved a letter by messenger, and come, with all haste. They opened the door and let him inside.
"How is she?" He asked.
"They say that she is doing okay...But that she is hardpressed to make it through the night..." The Inn keeper said. Him and his wife were good people. The few people that truly knew whom Rockeny was and his circumstance. He laid a comforting hand on their shoudlers and hugged them.
"May I see her?" He asked.
"Go right ahead...She has been asking about you." The inn-keepers wife said. Rockeny turned and walked up the stairs. He had walked up them many times during the twelve years he had visited this place. It was not like Rockeny to ever linger. But this little girl was special. As he walked up he knocked and walked in. The little girl lay there and smiled sleepily.
"Hello Sarah. It has been awhile."
"Yes it has." She sat up. "Tell me of your adventures Rockeny?" She asked. Rockeny felt like crying for the first time in a long time. The inn keeper and his wife had been cursed with a cruel fate. When their daughter was born she was destined to never leave her bed. Always frail and sickly. So she would stay in the top room and stare down at the street below. When someone walked by their room she would say, "Hello! Please stay awhile. Were are you from? Will you tell me of your adventures?" She would ask with a bright smile.
Rockeny returned to himself and began to tell her of his adventures.
"This time I crossed the ocean. It is hard for you to imagine but it is like a vast lake or puddle of water that seemingly never ends..." He told her of its beauty and majesty. The terrifying storms and the struggles of the sailors. Rockeny never told her of the battle that turned the waters red with blood, to the point, were the fish drowned in it and floated to the surface. He did not tell her of how they starved so they netted the dead fish and feasted on them. Nor did he tell her what he did. When she asked he would say, "I travel and sell my wares." That was his life for the last millenia. Traveling from one battlefield to another. To die and wake up with the suns rising. The only survivor. Looking at the dead faces of his comrades most times. Feeling guilty when he was given their share. He was not ashamed of what he did. Just what he had to do. So he left his wares or ware...wich ,was his sword,downstairs. That was all that needed to be said.
By now she had fallen into a ghostly sleep. Her chest rose in small struggling huffs and her breathing grew shallow. Rockeny continued. He was sure she could still hear him. He told her of how they had reached land and the beauty of the flowers, the alluring, glitter of the mists in the morning. He did not tell her that the flower was beautiful ,because amidst the dead, it remained tall and persevering. He did not tell her of the ghosts that haunted his dreams in the mists. He only told her of beautifull things, happy things. He told her these things not because of her. It was more for himself. A reminder of his humanity. Well...What was left of it.
Her breathing grew harder and her skin grew paler. Rockeny moved over and took her little hand in his. She opened her eyes and squeezed it feebly. "Im scared." She whispered. Rockeny smiled gently ,even as...even as his heart broke... He kissed her forehead and smoothed away the hair from her face.
"Its okay love. I will see you on the other side." That was his last lie to her.
When she died. For the first time in a long time. Rockeny cried.~
~Is like a concave scream...~
