I don't know a lot about the guy, but if there's one thing I know, it's that he's a nut.
The guy is freaking crazy. The guy just comes out of nowhere and doesn't just flip everything I know upside down, he also blows my entire life in a billion pieces. Not only that, he blows it to pieces and nearly kills me five—scratch that; twenty times over. And he still doesn't give me answers. I think I deserve them, y'know? But no, he just drags me along for the ride, never answering enough of my questions, even though I know he's got them rattling around in that closed-up head of his. Yeah, sure, he says some stuff, gives me enough answers to shut me up for the time being, but I don't know nearly enough to satisfy me.
The thing is, I recently got dragged through a wormhole to the other side of who-knows-where and now he tells me I have to help him save the universe. It's part of this…Traveler…rig…thing .
But seriously, sometimes, I think I wouldn't have that much of a problem with the Traveler thing if it weren't for one little thing. That "one little thing" being that there's way too much flirting-with-death action going on. Like I said, he's nearly gotten me killed fifty times over. Luckily, while his apparent job is to hike my petrified self into places with the words "DANGER; DO NOT ENTER" written all over it, his apparent job is also to hike my petrified self out of those places. He shoves me into hot water and yanks me back out, even if he's a bit—er, a lot rough. All in all, he keeps me alive. Not sane, but alive. You wouldn't believe the kind of crazy stunts we've wound up doing in the past few weeks.
And that doesn't even include the little scuffle with some ugly baddie named Saint Dane. It was deep in the heart of the badlands, the kind I've been raised to avoid at all costs. And then this Saint Dane guy who looks like serious bad news shows up. It was very, very obvious Mr. Nutcase knew this Saint Dane character. And I'll admit, something about the way they talked with each other…scared me. It was like they were old enemies, trained and honed to duke it out with each other. Actually, they are old enemies, but it wasn't just old enemies. It's…hard to explain. I guess you could call it obsession on both of their parts.
But that wasn't my concern at the time, was it? I really wasn't paying attention to the subtleties of their relationship. It was more like I was trying to stay alive, although I'll admit that this is largely taken care of for me by the pro. He had my butt covered. So that left me with the job of keeping myself sane, which isn't even close to the top of his priority list.
Example? How we got out of that hairy situation with Saint what's-his-face. He'd gotten me into that treacherous situation, but he definitely got me out of it—with my sanity a little less intact. How can fluming through time and space away from a demon not mess with your head? But heck, man, he definitely got us out of a situation that scared me so bad I thought I was gonna pee. And he did it with flying colors, too. What a pro.
Speaking of pro, it's not just with Saint Dane and insane escapes. The guy knows how to deal with danger. I get the feeling he's been doing his trade for a long, long while, and if he weren't able to stay cool under pressure, he'd have been dead ages ago. And that's another weird thing about him—it's like nothing fazes him. He just determinedly goes on, gaze set and jaw locked, no matter what kind of craziness happens to be screwing the place over. What a pro, eh? Like I said, the guy gives off this air that tells you he's been doing what he does for a long, long while.
But…not knowing what's going on in his head drives me nuts. Or just not knowing what's going on in general. Not knowing the truth pisses me off. But you know how I said this guy is like a nut? I didn't say that just 'cause he's crazy. He really is like a nut. A really, really hard-to-crack nut. He never tells me what's going to happen. He just lets me experience it for myself—and I really wish he wouldn't do that, because it's mentally hazardous, thanks. And it's not just him liking to throw messed-up surprises at me.
Look, I'm trying to crack him open to see what's inside, but he's not crackin'. I know there's answers in there. If not answers, something I probably should know about either myself, him, or this whole shtick in general. The guy is not only a pro, but a mysterious, enigmatic pro. His pro-ness is even a part of his enigmatic-ness. The way I see him, he's a cool-headed, super-skilled, death-defying, closed-up, mysterious guy. Why is he so pro? Where is he from? What's this guy gone through to let him be able to stare danger in the face with a calm glare? He's not telling, mate.
He took me to a place called Denduron through a flume. He'd been there before, apparently. So I can assume he's been to practically all the places in this…Halla place. But that's basically the only clue I've got as to who the hell this guy is, and it actually raises more questions than it answers. He's got some stuff going on, but he's not telling. Not what's going on with me and my Traveler-ness, and definitely not what's going on with him and his Traveler-ness.
I know nothing about this guy, when I think about it. He's just a pro enigma who decided to drag me into his war with Sainty whoever, and that's basically all I know. Oh, well, I know he's a nut. But that's about it.
Hopefully this is just because I'm new to this Traveler thing. Maybe he'll open up later and let the truths about…whatever he's keeping locked up in his head out. I certainly hope so. I'm dying to know what it is, and when he finally decides to let me in on everything that's going on—why he's so pro, what's up with him and Saint Dane, where in the name of the sky he comes from—I'll be there to listen.
Until then, this Siry Remudi is waiting for that nut of a Pendragon.