During the Fronde des Nobles/ Franco-Spanish War.
Fronde- sling, attack cardinal mazarin, king louis XIV
Paris, France, 1650
Neuro stepped through the portal. He glanced around at his surroundings, examining where he landed. So this was the mortal plane. He was sure he wouldn't ever plan on calling it 'home, sweet home'. Ha, that was a laugh. There were mortals everywhere. Somehow, he, even though he was on top of a building and the only doing such a thing, no one noticed. He stood there for quite some time, contemplating his next move.
He lightly jumped down from the roof, following the ally as it led to more back streets. Humans were pouring out in waves. Some with animals pulling carts, others with huge bags filled to the brim tied on their backs. He walked within the crowd, having his human guise fit into the era that he just walked into. The waves of people pushed and pulled him out of the city and to follow a well worn road.
Down the path, farms littered the countryside, adding a bit of color or lack of to the fields of gold wheat. Neuro followed the dwindling amount of people. People were splintering off to smaller less used roads. Such as the main roads were beginning to be used for the militia. Neuro followed the main road till he reached the edge of the countryside.
By the sea, just a little ways off the road was a small hovel. It had a small garden beside it and a makeshift pin for a few hens. The door opened and a girl in her late teens walked out, holding a basket. She used this basket to thin out the small garden of the vegetables. Her long hair was a bright yellow, offsetting her chocolate eyes. Neuro watched as she ducked inside her home and exchanged the basket for a clay jug. He followed her as she winded a small path to the beach, trying to figure out her purpose.
As the beach came into view, Neuro noticed a few different things that seemed out of place. First, there was a large wooden structure jutting out into the ocean. Second, there was a body of a young man face down on the shore, waves lapping at his booted feet. The girl that Neuro followed on her paused the moment she saw the man. Then set the jug down, almost breaking it at the last moment. She dashed to the boy, and did what appeared to be checking his vitals. She tried to prop him up to lean him onto her back.
The short trek that was the path to her humble home, turned to a long haul. Her small body had to take several breaks to accommodate for the added weight. The boy stayed unconscious the whole time, seeming either dead, or badly hurt. He moaned at the girl hefted her one last time to her small hovel. She started, nearly dropping him in the process.
The girl disappeared inside with the outsider. She surfaced from the hovel several minutes later, headed towards the shore once more. She came back in view with the jug, splashing the ground with the water from inside. She went inside and went around preparing herb water for the young soldier's wounds. She knelt down next to his makeshift pallet, some of his belongings on the other side of him. This included his pack, a small but wicked looking dagger, and a canteen with a Spanish looking symbol blazed on the front.
She turned her back to dip the rag into the herb water, the young soldier jerked to murky consciousness. The stinging pain of the herb water replaced the murkiness of sleep. His hand instinctual grasped for a weapon. The helping hands viewed as enemy claws seeking to torture. Unseen by the blond, the young man hand's found his sword laying by his side.
Wringing out the rag, unconscious and unconcerned of the threat of her patient, the girl continued to work. Neuro, however, became very aware of the girl's mortality. Laws of his own world forbade him to openly help or harm an individual of those of a lower race.
The blade came down in a shimmer of the late sunlight. The blood of the young French woman covered the blade in a deep red. A mix of a sigh and a moan escaped as the blade sank deeper into the base of her skull.
Neuro sat there aching unnaturally to help her. He saw as the soldier's fog lifted from his mind and he realized what he had done. He watched as the young man sat up and frantically covered the body with a long cloth. The young man scrounged for any supplies he would need and take it outside. He saw as the boy burned the small hovel and scurried away. Neuro walked in the ashes where the young girls body had been, and although nothing in this world or any other would make him say, a small crystal slipped down his cheek to wet the ground where she was left.
Sorry my poor readers. I had a little bit of a slump, and an onslaught of work. Not much of an excuse but I'm sticking to it. At least this is up by Christmas. A merry little Christmas to you all. Or rather, Happy Holidays!
