Yes, I am not dead. But it took me a while to write this – I've moved out from home to study in a city 800 kilometres away since the last chapter, and I had a quite a lot to do. Lame excuse, I know.
By the way, since the last chapter about two years have passed in the story, which makes Raziel thirteen by now.
Chapter VIII: Rain
Rain was falling outside the window, for days already. The whole world seemed silent since then, as if waiting for that rain to stop. Even the children in the small room that serves as a school in the morning hours were quieter than usual, staring sightlessly out of the window instead of whispering to each other or drawing little pictures of boredom onto their sheets. Hane, the teacher, knew better than to believe that they would actually listen to him, but this was still better than the usual chatter. None the less he paused in his monologue to glare at the kids for one or two seconds. Many they where not – three girl and one boy were all that was left of his class, and one of the girls was almost seventeen now and would leave school soon, then the village, probably. Hane knew this village was dying out, but as least it would die out a little smarter – if those children were so kind as to listen to his words. Which they weren't. Of course.
"Mana, would you please tell us the reasons for the great Famine in this area one hundred years ago?" he asked one of the girls, fifteen years old and obviously very interested in the way the raindrops were running worn the windowpane. "It shouldn't be too hard, since I have talked about it just now.", Hane added. It was a lie – he had bee talking about the new trading law in the big cities, but he wanted to see if any of them had paid enough attention to notice.
Apparently no-one did. Mana was slightly blushing, looking embarrassed while the others giggled as if they'd know any better. Hane was just about to pass the question to Kelar, the boy, when the door opened and another boy entered, totally soaked by the rain and without bothering to knock or say anything. For a moment, all that was heard was the rain against the window.
Raziel glared at the old man for a second, as if daring him to say something, ask him why he was so late or where he had been the past week, but something also told Hane that this would not be a good idea, and so he decided to spare Kelar for now and move on with the topic as if nothing happened, while Raziel moved to his seat and sat down to stare out of the window.
o-
Two hours later Raziel was walking home, his travelling back thrown onto his back. He had walked straight to school after returning to the village, without even stopping at his family's house. It wasn't so much because he was afraid to miss anything important – from his point of view, their teacher didn't even know what 'important' meant – but because he wanted to avoid facing his mother as long as possible.
The past six days he had spend on the road to the cities in the south, or rather beside that road, in the woods, the swamp, looking for caves in the mountains. After "borrowing" one or two of Kurin's journals he knew where to look for vampires during the days and he usually found them. With almost two years of practice Raziel was actually quite skilled in the art of killing the undead, though he tended to use traps and trickery rather than direct force. Proud as he was of his success, Raziel was no fool. He knew that a heroic man-to-man battle with even a single vampire would have been a quiet short and probably very final experience.
The rain had totally soaked him again when he finally reached the small house at the edge of his village. The boy allowed himself a few seconds of hesitation before he pushed open the door and walked in.
This was not his lucky day. Hanna, Tar's wife, was inside, obviously just about to leave and she looked startled at the fact that someone dared to enter without bothering to knock on the door first. Her expression turned to surprise when she recognized him and was finally replaced by anger.
"So," she said. "There you are. Where have you been?" Hanna was known everywhere for her sweet temper and Raziel had never, ever seen her getting loud, but her voice had a very sharp edge to it now, as she was practically snapping at him. He was getting used to it
"Away," he shrugged.
The woman's face reddened. "Away", she repeated. "You can't just leave for days without telling anyone. How often do I have to repeat that? Are you even listening to me, young man?"
Raziel winced inwardly. He hated being called 'young man', because when people said 'young man' they really meant 'little boy' – something he felt he wasn't anymore.
"I left a note," he said lamely. When his first disappearance, though rather short, had send half the village searching for him he had decided to always leave some sort of message when he left, to keep them from running around like headless chicken. Sometimes, though, he felt that his effort was not satisfyingly appreciated.
Hanna's voice turned a little softer when she said: "People tend to get worried about you when you just leave like that." She didn't say 'Your mother gets worried', which would have been an useless and painful lie, and for that Raziel was grateful. His mother probably hadn't even noticed he was gone at all. She wouldn't notice if he didn't return.
"Is she okay?" he asked, looking at the door to his parents bedroom, where his mother had spend most of the past two years, dreaming and talking to people who weren't there, slowly slipping away from reality more and more with each passing day.
"As okay as she was a week ago", Hanna sighed. After the death of Raziel's sister she had taken up the task of caring for her old friend. She also tired to care for her son, but most of the time that was a pointless job. Right now she was looking him up and down, checking for possible injuries, and her expression froze. Raziel followed her gaze and noted the bloodstains on his shirt. Funny, with the dark clothes being all wet he hadn't thought anyone would notice.
Shrugging, he went past her to look for his mother, but at the door he stopped, and he felt his lips twist into a cold grin as he turned around to face her.
"Don't worry", he said. "It isn't mine."
tbc-
March 13, 2005
Still not much progress with the plot…(sigh)
