Most of us long to "Be" but when the path gets too costly, or steep, we take solace in what we "Have." Remove the trappings of what we own and then what is the sum of us?
They were the survivors, abandoned by the allies who swore to protect, in...
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The place was just as terrible as Aurianne had expected. A vast expanse of sharp stones interspersed with dead and dying scrub, larger gray boulders, and a forlorn sky stretching overhead. Jhary had warned her that the upcoming journey would be harsh on the horses. There would possibly be no water for the beasts for at least three days. He had said his mule had fared much better than he had seen horses do as they attempted to cross this natural divide. Aurianne had appreciated Jhary's concern for her beloved mare Isabou, however Aurianne was sure her horse was strong and would survive this trial.
They walked often to spare the animals. Kario was glad his feet felt much better and he was now in possession of a warm robe and sturdy shoes. The ground was treacherous, even Beauty's paws became cut on the sharp shale stone that littered the vista before them and far behind.
They moved as swiftly as they could, nervous to be so visible in this flat and seemingly lifeless landscape. There were possible places to water here and Jhary strove to locate them. Day one he did indeed spy one location, but the water had long seeped away, or had been drunk by previous passers by.
Kario found himself wishing he had the power to conjure water. Well, that being said he possibly could conjure some of the lifesaving fluid, a glass perhaps, if he was hard pressed. The problem was he could only make use of elements that were abundant about him, and bodies of water were decidedly absent in this place. This was one of the terrible limitations of his simple magic.
After his last awkward conversation he had decided not to even suggest, or explain this to his traveling companions. Even a keen intelligence such as his struggled to encompass the limitations of these powers. His mother's own kind had called him dull witted, just as humankind found him brilliant of mind, and to be feared.
The dark man truly belonged in neither place, with neither people, and this thought long troubled him of perhaps never being accepted anywhere. In his heart he yearned for the place of his childhood. The underneath, at the foot of Nethrizil. The place of perpetual and comforting darkness. Not here, where the humans struggled and fought relentlessly. It all seemed so base and pointless to one such as himself.
Nights were spent snuggled in bed rolls. Without the comfort of a fire, and in silence mostly. The last thing they needed was to attract the attention of marauding subhumans that Jhary insisted roamed about this area, or even slavers. Though Kario and Aurianne had confessed they had never seen a single subhuman soul.
"You do not want to." Jhary replied. "They are hideous indeed, and bear little resemblance to us in feature or noble deed."
Aurianne smiled into the dark, she was very unsure how to separate hard truth from Jhary's silver lined stories, and she was sure this tale was one of no exception.
"So how did they get that way?" Aurianne had decided to play.
"The nuclear blast." Jhary countered whispering from his bedroll. "They escaped from the city contaminated but did not perish. Of course the survivors who were untouched did not wish to associate with them, so they have formed societies of their own. There are entire villages of them out here."
