More on Eelistle. It's not quite as action-packed as last times. Just world-building. Gotta love that world-building. I just now wrote it. So it's very rough. And kind of. . . I was going for despondent/depressing. So if it makes you feel super good, let me know. Because than I must've did something wrong. :P
By of way, the deadline for this fortnight's Summer Writing Camp is tomorrow. O_O Yeah, I meant to give you more heads up, but it snuck up on me too. You should totally link up here! Even if you can't, go check out everyone's posts. They're awesome!
The horse's hooves slosh through the mud. Even when the horse raises its head to its full height, it still seems too short. The horses Eelistle's accustomed to are much taller than this full grown battle horse. He leads the animal through the forest. Rain patters in the treetops. They saunter down a hill.
Eelistle glances back at Brayden. His friend lays across the horse's back with a wet blanket. Brayden fell unconscious quite soon after Eelistle rescued him. But he hasn't stirred since these two days have passed. How can he help Brayden? What is even exactly wrong? Aside from the whip wounds. He wish he knew.
If he had become an elf of the healing arts he would know. But, no, he'd taken up the sword like all his elder brothers.
Eelistle gives his head a small shake and fingers his sword hilt. He had been so naive. But how could one expect an eight year old to make a wise choice over his future fate. It's ludicrous when you truly think about it.
Of course, he could not have rescued Brayden in the first place if he'd not taken up the sword.
Eelistle casts a glance at the heavens. Right. There's no forgetting that.
Thunder shudders and lighting sends static through the atmosphere. Eelistle braces himself for the horse to balk, but it doesn't react at all.
At least humans know how train a horse well.
The rain pounds upon them now. Eelistle shrugs deeper into his cloak. It's already soaked through. The rain falls so heavy, it obliterates the horse's foggy breath that had just seconds before been puffing into the air. It rains so hard, it drenches his cowl and streams down his face.
The rain tastes strange here.
All the water tastes strange here. It's more acidic. Sometimes even gritty as it falls from the sky.
The atmosphere in the elves' realm is pure, untainted. The water is in its purest form. All and only elements water is composed. Whatever those are. But no other gas or acids become trapped in it on its way down from the clouds.
That's partly why the humans were banished. Now, the realm the humans dwell in is polluted. The air's not bad. It's breathable. It's not even worth complaining over. But the comparison between home- between the elven realm and-
There's just a difference.
Eelistle wanders through the town he passed through on his search for Brayden. He'd actually made inquires as to Brayden's whereabouts in this town. Normally, he'd consider it poor judgement to spend a night here. But the innkeeper he had spoken to when passing through- He had gotten a good intuition about him.
The streets are fairly bare of people. Just mud and water and shiftless mules under whatever shelter they can find.
Eelistle sighs and knocks on the inn's back door three times. He'd spoken to the inn keeper earlier about this. It seems Brayden had once upon a time done something good for this man. So the innkeeper had no qualms with keeping them there a night.
The man opens the door. Eelistle slips Brayden off the horse's back and the sight of bloody, sick prince keeps them both silent. The innkeeper helps them up the stairs to a room. They share the mutual somberness.
Eelistle slips Brayden on the bed and moves to the door.
The innkeeper holds up a hand.
"The horse," Eelistle whispers into the silence.
The innkeeper shakes his head again. "I'll take care of it, lad. I'll bring ye both some dry clothes. Just look after him, will ye? And yer self too."
Eelistle cocks his head. What?
"Ye must be needing rest as well."
Eelistle nods. Sleeping in a real bed tonight, out of the rain, is a luxury. He might not get it often in the days to come.
Being on the run with Brayden is not something done in comfort.
After seeing to Brayden and a change of dry clothes, Eelistle collapses on a bed.
His eyes open and light seeps through the wooden shutters in the window. He frowns and yawns. When did he fall asleep?
He glances at Brayden. What will he do with him? Perhaps the innkeeper knows someone who can help Brayden.
Or will help Brayden.
Eelistle rolls out of bed. But they won't trouble the innkeeper another night. The man's taken a great risk in hiding them now. It's best not to throw any more suspicion on the man than necessary. They should leave as soon as possible.
Eelistle opens the shudders a crack. It's not facing the street through so nobody should see them. He opens them all the way. Out over the forest, the sky is filled with sharp pinks and blazing oranges. The sun peeks over the trees and at the top of the sky some deep blue still fights for it's last bit of sky.
Breathtaking! Eelistle stands a moment in the color washed light of the sky.
Maybe the rain is pure back home. But they don't have skies like these either.