As I sit here beneath this tree, staring out at this desolate place above the Trestlepan, I can only wonder on the nature of fate itself once more.
What a turbulent few days, these past moments have been.
When I set off from my home that week ago, I imagined an installment of peace. Some measure of tranquility to go with this time I would spend alone, away from the demons of my past, and regretfully away from my beautiful Ashaia, though, of course, it appears I will forever be haunted.
I had intended to go for a stroll away from my camp, just up the hill from the town of Trestlebridge. It wasn't so long ago that I had clambered my way down that cliff-face in order to save the life of Silver, and I had intended on going back to reminsce. I've never been open at all with my feelings on that particular woman, nay, but I thought it would be good to release whatever bottled emotion I have left, and pour it to the raging rapids below. Those blasted waves. Of course, just as I was beginning to wrap my head around events of yore, I spotted her figure. A woman splayed out upon the rocks below, a wash of red hair lighting up the tones of grey and blue. And so, I did my civic duty, as any rightful man should. I had survived that fall before, and I would do it again, for the sake of whomever's life it was down there. Gods. I know I've thought about the prospect of me having a conscience before, but it really has gotten that bad, hasn't it? That I'd now be so willing to risk my life to leap into the impending shadow of doom, all at the prospect of saving another. Or, was it that flash of red? Did the thought of Narys spur me on to leap to this stranger's aid, as I would have done without a second thought, if it was indeed her? I came here for clarity, not further clouded judgement. But, nevertheless, my shirt was removed, as was my belt, and a free fall I did take.
Weightlessness. Isn't that the most blissful feeling a man can experience? A true sense of unburdened as you fall endlessly to the world below. In my few experiences of falling from high heights, whether it be an intentional descent in order to save someone's life, or it be a rather hap-dash slip in any efforts to escape ever encroaching danger over the rooftops of Bree, I've fallen in love with the thrill. It is short. And it is sweet. But by the Gods, is it powerful. I believe that that is how I now wish to depart this world, if I ever manage to do so on my own terms. A feeling of accomplishment, as I descend to the depths of hell itself.
I was certainly guilty of, for those few moments, forgetting why I had even leapt in the first place. So ready to submit to the calm, that when my straightened body delved into the waters below, and that familiar cooling sensation ripped across my body, my soul was jolted back into position.
Pressure. That sudden pressure of an endless stream of water weighing down upon you. I imagine that is perhaps the worst feeling a man can experience. For is there truly anything more fear-provoking than having the air forcibly ripped from your body. Having a foreign entity leak down your gullet, and fill your lungs. Your screams of pain, and horror, drowned out by dominant force of nature, never to be heard by anything above the waves. Suffocation. A few jerks of your body. And suddenly, you are a part of nature. Sinking down to the murky depths of the void. Being dragged down, against your will, to a conclusion that you have no control over.
I suppose this says a lot about my psyche.
Nevertheless, I kicked, and I clawed, as I usually do, back to break the surface. Gasping for air, the last thing I expected to find was a woman I had once sought to give my entire life up to be with. But nay, there she was, her body contorted in a cruel position, but there she was regardless. To this day, I still do not know how she managed to fall such a height. Whether she had truly chosen to jump, or whether it was an innocent slip over some crumbling rocks, it is not for me to decide, nor judge. I have made decisions of the former of my own, chosen to end things on my own terms, leave a legacy of my own creation. But fate would always drive me back to the surface. Much like this woman's body had been caught between the rocks, and the raging spirit of water. When I awoke her, she seemed just as surprised as I that we had encountered each other once more. Of course, not quite on the circumstances either of us could have hoped for, but life has its own way of deciding things. The conversation we had was rather short, and irrelevant, though on recollection, as I used my belt to strap her to my body, she said those damned words. Words that I had sought to avoid. I am no author, nor do I purport to be any great philosopher of our age, but isn't it comically cruel how our lives revolve entirely around the concept of 'love'? Perhaps one of the few mysteries I may never be able to sink my teeth into fully. Though, on this particular moment, her admission was one of fear. One of sorrow. As if it may have been the last time we would ever utter those words. I did not believe that.
In all honesty, I do not remember much of the swim. Quite similar to how I do not remember much of the almost identical journey I took with Silver those few weeks prior. I am but a man, when the cards are down, and my body felt ravaged. There are hazy patches of blurred imagery on both occasions. My arms plunging through the ripples of white, and blue. And an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion. Though, each occasion was surprisingly different. In the former, Silver kept me going with her usual personality, her jokes, her flirtations. Thoughts that kept my mind away from the pain ripping across my muscles. That, is a power I can comprehend. In the latter, as I began to struggle, my head falling to the call of the void, a simple whisper in my ear rejuvenated my body. That, I plan on questioning in this coming journey. Am I not a man, but a tool, for these women to use? Powered by the gratification I receive at attention. Curious.
Regardless, we broke to the shore. Collapsed, and held each other for dear life, for what may have very well been hours. My body had shut down, unable to do anything else but course ragged breaths of air in, and out. In, and out. The framework for life itself. Upon our shared, eventual stirring, I made sure she was alright, shared her affection of afore, and carried her off, looking for help.
And there they were. The curious power couple. Rowan and Toddir. What peculiar men, truly. Men I had encountered only a day previous, on their search for a particular 'bird'. Their euphemisms were not lost on me, of course, nor were they very intelligent in hiding their desire. They were searching for a woman, and, just as it so happened, that particular woman was in my arms, cradling my body in injury. If there's one thing I can indeed purport to know, it is people. I didn't much care for this 'Toddir' fellow, and I'm sure I made that known well-enough, the creepy bastard he looked. But, this Rowan character, his eyes for Narys were obvious. His jealousy for me, even more amusing than I first could have thought. Funny how many 'handsome' men that roam these lands, that have no substance to them beyond a dim light behind their eyes. They hovered around, persistent on dwindling for their own reasons, reasons that started, and ended, with the usual red-haired enigma. And, I continue to be unsurprised that she is my continuous point of confusion in life.
As I whipped that useless healer into proper etiquette, she dropped her voice. As if hesitant for those peeping nearby to hear, and informed me that I should never forget her feelings for me. Which, is indeed, rather peculiar. I challenged this, naturally, by asking her to come with me. I knew already of her answer, but I wanted to see it for my own eyes. The squirm. The hesitation. And there it was. Of course, her arm had been broken, there was that certain stumbling block, but beyond that, she rhymed off the multiple reasons she could not follow me. Her promises to her guardian hunter, her fear that she would upset my Raven, and more. Amusing to me, that there is always excuses over a love that apparently once burned so fierce.
So, I left them all. Left her in the company of her entourage, and went on my way, with a passing remark of that aforementioned 'love'. For what else could I possibly do? She had her newfound protection, and I had a contract to fulfill. Returned to my camp, boiled myself a stew for dinner, and recollected my thoughts once more.
As I sit here beneath this tree, staring out at this desolate place above the Trestlepan, I can only wonder on the nature of love itself.
And, funnily enough, leaving that absurd scenario behind... I feel unencumbered.
'Ost Forod awaits.'
