Chapter 4
Riding a horse sucked.
Riding a horse into the unknown, without a single weapon on him sucked even more.
Lyndon felt his nerves close to snapping point. With one fell swoop, the world jerked the ground out from under his feet, and hours later, he still struggled to regain his footing. As a thief, a conman, a rogue, Lyndon always stood on top of things, at least partially, knowing the reasons and their consequences, knowing what is happening currently around him and in the world.
This was all gone now.
He was running from his former comrades and friends, with a goddamn baby angel on his back, no weapon in hand and no plan prepared and thought through. Myriam's terrified behavior infested him as well and he was fighting to shake it off now. That woman had always been cheerful, optimistic, posing a happy outlook even in the bleakest situations. Seeing that all gone now… Lyndon couldn't even imagine what kind of foresight she had had.
Realizing he couldn't take any more of this stress on the back of a running horse, he pulled the reins and shouted:
- Stop! Stop, damn you! I want to stop!
The stupid stubborn animal he stole from the stables of Seram's merchant, finally obliged and came to a screeching halt, right under the foliage of a lonely tree in the middle of the endless meadow. Lyndon practically threw himself off of the horse, leaving Quiet's bag strapped to the saddle and he stumbled to the foot of the tree, collapsing into a heaving heap.
The last time he had felt this aimless and full of fear, was when Edlin had been captured and Lyndon was forced to flee for his life from Kingsport.
Curling up into a ball, Lyndon hid his face into his crossed arms, and desperately gulped down the air.
What was he supposed to do now?! Where should he go?! What was even going on, gods damn it?!
Panic filled his mind, tearing apart strings of thoughts that tried to form in order to answer these questions and make a plan according to them.
- I should have never agreed going to that fucking realm in the Hells! – he chided himself. – I should have never—
A small hand on his arm made him jerk up and stare before himself. Quiet stood there, somehow climbing out of the backpack and off the horse.
- Leendonn – he chirped sadly.
- I want to be alone, Quiet – Lyndon choked, shooing the angel away.
The little one drew back uncertainly, then looked at the horse. Lyndon buried his face back into his arms, sinking back into his misery.
He was so fucked.
So damn fucked.
Apparently, he was on the run from a Nephalem who killed the Prime Evil and Death itself, along with their armies of monsters. How exactly was he supposed to avoid her?! She travelled to the depths of Arreat Crater, to the High Heavens and to Pandemonium. There was no corner of Creation she couldn't fight her way into.
Why was he even on the run from his former comrade and friend? A few months ago he trusted her with everything. She had been there when Lyndon had found Edlin's dead body. She hadn't left him behind even he had tried to escape into alcohol from the crushing guilt and grief, and had been a real ass to her. She had been there when they discovered the note hidden inside that cursed dagger…
She also nearly cleaved his head off of his neck with the flail in the Burning Hells.
Where did it all go wrong? Was he at fault, somehow? Lyndon honestly wouldn't have been surprised if that had been the case. He seemingly had the talent to completely fuck up every close relationship he might develop in his life.
- Am I cursed? – he mumbled hopelessly to himself.
He had to get this angel back to the High Heavens somehow, he knew. Otherwise he might just ruin the little one's life completely, just as he had done before with everyone else.
"Stay with him, Lyndon! Keep him safe, no matter what happens!"
Yet, Myriam's warning echoed in his head persistently. The vecin had always been correct about her predictions before. Assuming she was wrong could be a big mistake.
Lyndon wanted to claw his own skin off of his head in frustration, but strange shuffling sounds drew his attention again. He lifted his head up, only to see Quiet sitting next to the horse in the dust, heroically fighting with the clothes the scoundrel had bought for him. He was currently wrestling with the tunic part, huffing and puffing with great intent, immensely focused on the problem of somehow making the neckline wide enough to squeeze through it. His tiny wings, that usually took on a rather rigid and firm shape, now darted around as if showing the flow of thoughts in that little head.
Despite his miserable state, Lyndon couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the scene, as he slowly dragged himself up from the ground and walked there.
- That's not how it works, exactly – he gently took the clothes from Quiet, still smiling at the scene. – Let me help.
He held up the tunic the correct way, showing the angel the two sleeves. Quiet chirped excitedly and threw his hands up in the air, quickly catching on what to do. Putting the tunic on was easy enough, but Lyndon had to wonder about the trousers. As much as he could remember, he hadn't seen a single angel in the High Heavens with pants. They tended to wear long robes, leg armor, or a combination of armor and a long skirt, kilt, whatever the heck you called that. Lyndon personally have always called it a skirt. He braced himself for the incoming tantrum throw, but Quiet seemed completely okay with putting those on as well. Finally, the scoundrel hung the traveling cape around the tiny neck and shoulders, pulling up its hood to cover most of the silver-white hair, and gently nudging the wings behind the textile. There wasn't much to do about the bottomless darkness of the face, but other than that, Quiet now passed pretty well for a small child.
The clothes weren't exactly perfect fit: the sleeves were much too long and the small hands constantly disappeared in them, and the hood could have been a bit larger, covering the golden tiara completely. But for now, it had to do, and it was good enough. Lyndon made a mental note of taking exact measurements of Quiet when they get to the next town and have enough peace and time to visit another tailor.
Yes… That's what they needed to do.
Think in small steps. Do not lose sight of the whole picture, but always focus on the next small step. If you want to do everything at the same time, you will go crazy. Edlin had often used this tactic, and he taught this to Lyndon as well, who had tended to be all over the place when he was younger.
Lyndon exhaled loudly, slowly regaining some of his calmness.
Find Tyrael. Got it. Will do.
Granted, the last time he saw the fallen angel, they were gathering in Westmarch just after the defeat (and hopefully death) of Malthael. Tyrael told them of his plans to rebuild the Horadrim, and it looked like he would remain in the city to achieve that. With any luck, he was still there.
- Westmarch it is – Lyndon mumbled to himself then looked down at the patiently waiting angel. – Let's go, Quiet! We are going to visit a relative of yours!
He scooped the little one up and climbed back on the horse, placing him before himself on the saddle. Quiet chirped happily and petted the neck of the animal which snorted in return.
- Horse – Lyndon said as he goaded the animal into cantering along the road.
Quiet turned to him with wide eyes.
Lyndon petted the neck of the mount and repeated again.
- H—ghhh—horz – Quiet tried to pronounce the word, holding onto the edge of the saddle for balance.
- Horse.
- Horssss.
- Close enough – Lyndon sighed.
Then he went on teaching words to the angel as they travelled along. If his inner compass was right, they were headed to Gea Kul, where they could get on boat and cross the Twin Seas to Khanduras. The city was still pretty far away, and Lyndon decided to use this time to teach some words to Quiet. If they were to stick together, they needed to understand each other.
oooOOOooo
Quiet quickly realized that not only Leendonn's name was ugly, his entire language was that as well.
The strings of sounds his partner was teaching him rang hollow and held no emotion. But it was clear that Leendonn and his entire kin were incapable of producing the sounds of feelings he knew so well. Even that strange fat female, who had that unearthly aura around her, used only this ugly language. Relenting to his fate, Quiet allowed Leendonn to teach him words, just hoping that one day they will be able to talk on some level. In the meantime, he tried to ignore the growing anguish in his chest at the fact that every single last thing in this world seemed to have a name (ugly as they might have been), only he didn't. It was disheartening, to say the least, made him question his own existence inside his own still jumbled and confused head.
So he threw himself into learning from and about Leendonn all the more, to focus his attention elsewhere.
It seemed, these creatures ("huumann", as later Leendonn taught him on the way) expressed emotions in various ways, not just with sounds. Leendonn sometimes let out a pretty loud and tired-sounding breath, usually accompanied by poking at his own face in strange ways. His words were annoyed and angry when he snarled something at the horss, and his face frowned during those. Sometimes, when Quiet was trying to pronounce a new name many times, Leendonn would open his mouth wide and laugh for some reason, often tilting his head back slightly as well. It became clear to the angel that huumanns used mostly their heads (and sometimes their hands) to express an emotion, as well as their tone.
It was still incredibly strange, however, how neutrally they said most words. When Quiet said "sky" in his own tongue, it was laced by joy and feelings of relief and freedom. But when Leendonn said "sky", it rang hollow and unassuming, as if the human had no opinion connected to it. In the beginning, Quiet believed Leendonn was just this disinterested in the world around him, but as time went by, he realized it was simply how this language worked.
He honestly hated the idea of speaking such a lifeless tongue, and decided that he would find a way to lace the words with emotions, once he knew them well enough, of course.
Quiet was so lost in the teaching that only when Leendonn stopped the horss and got off of it, did he realize how dark the sky has become. Panic racing through him, he practically jumped off of the large animal and landed on the huumann, small arms encircling the neck. Leendonn said something reassuring then waved his hand around and told him:
- Night.
Quiet immediately decided he did not like the night.
oooOOOooo
Lyndon was expecting the fearful reaction of the little angel, and wasn't particularly surprised by getting flying-tackled by him either. He realized he needed to somehow teach Quiet not to be afraid of the dark. Chalk that up to the to-do list, won't you? Lyndon started to suspect that if he really gave thought to it, he could fill a medium-thick book with all the stuff he was needed to do.
Think in small steps.
Lyndon focused back on the present when his stomach announced rather unceremoniously that he indeed skipped every possible meal for two days at this point. The scoundrel sighed deeply, he only had a few loaves of bread on him that he stole from the merchant, along with the horse. Not exactly a lavish dinner, but what can one expect in the middle of nowhere?
At least they were in a meadow, making camp next to the massive river simply called "Ager" which separated this land from the Torajan Jungles, and not in the scorching desert of Caldeum. Gea Kul was still at least another day's riding away, and Lyndon was already sore from it. He rarely rode on horse, leaving it as a last resort and preferring more comfortable forms of travel, mostly caravans and ships.
- I only have to do this until Gea Kul – he tried to reassure himself, as he set his backpack down on the ground.
The spot he picked for the night was probably the most characteristic patch of land in this endless meadow. On the bank of the massive but lazily drifting river stood a huge rock sticking out of the ground like a memento. Lyndon settled to its base then, with Quiet still in his arms, wandered up to the nearby bush, the only plant larger than five centimeters far and near. How the heck was it growing here all alone was a mystery the scoundrel wasn't particularly eager to solve. He recognized this kind, its berries were edible, and that's all that pretty much mattered right now. But as he examined its branches, he noted with dismay that the berries were all dried up or overripe, its season possibly long passed.
Surrendering to his fate, Lyndon gathered some dry-looking twigs from the bush, walked back to the rock and sat down on the ground, pulling out two loaves of bread from one of his pockets.
- Hungry? – he offered one to Quiet who finally let go and settled next to him.
The angel stared at the bread, then took it uncertainly, looking at Lyndon. The scoundrel took a large bite from his own, and his charge mimicked him, nibbling uncertainly at the crest. Quiet grimaced at the food then gave it back. Lyndon wasn't exactly surprised: seeing how absolutely clueless Tyrael had been about the art of eating in his early days as mortal, was proof enough that angels did not consume any food. The scoundrel merely made sure Quiet was the same.
The angel looked around uncertainly, still clearly nervous from the dark. He pressed close to Lyndon's side who was busy eating his measly dinner and listening the sounds of the grazing horse in the growing darkness. He began making a small campfire out of the twigs, pulling out the basic piece of flint and firesteel from another pocket, tools that pretty much every traveler with a common sense kept on himself. As he leaned over the pile of twigs and tried to strike a spark, he dimly registered Quiet standing up and wandering off a bit.
A few strikes later small flames erupted, giving some light in the darkness. Lyndon leaned back with a huff, pressing his back against the cold stone. He was just about to contemplate how much he should sleep before setting out again, but Quiet's chirping drew his attention. The little angel stood by his side, holding up a small branch full of perfect juicy large berries with one small hand. He chirped again and stuck it under Lyndon's nose.
- Wha—Where did you get these? – the scoundrel blinked at the gift, baffled.
He took it, then looked at the bush. Maybe the darkness played tricks with his vision, but the plant definitely looked greener, larger, and also it was practically collapsing under berries. Lyndon stood up and walked there, not believing his eyes. He could have sworn there had been nothing on it a minute ago!
- Am I going crazy? – he asked himself.
Quiet walked up to the bush as well, gently snapping off another branch full of berries. Right before the scoundrel's eyes, the twig grew back and bore new fruit in a second.
-… Did you do this? – Lyndon turned to Quiet, who merely stared back.
Holding up the gift once more, he uncertainly popped a few dark red berries in his mouth. They had incredible flavor, rich, juicy and sweet. Much better than the stale bread he had just had.
- Alright. I have no idea how you did it, but… thank you – Lyndon finally said, quickly finishing the rest of his snack.
Quiet cocked his head to one side.
- Thank you – the scoundrel repeated, smiling down at his small charge.
The angel chirped back, little wings flaring up from behind the cape. The red eyes closed, indicating that he too was smiling. He then stuffed a few berries in his mouth himself, letting out a content "mmmmmmmmmmm". Oh… so he could eat food, at least some types. Maybe he just didn't need it?
Lyndon shrugged the question off as the two of them plucked the juicy treats from the bush.
oooOOOooo
Quiet really didn't like the night, but he could take it if he was close to Leendonn, he decided.
He had seen his friend frown at the uselessly small plant, and when he went up to it and touched it, he talked to it about being larger and more helpful. Immediately it changed into his current state, and Quiet was happy to show Leendonn his findings. See? All he had to do was to ask the plant nicely! After they had their little midnight raid from the bush, they went back to the small fire, and Leendonn settled down on the ground, lying on his side and slightly curling up. Quiet managed to dig his way into the huumann's lap and press himself close to the steadily moving chest that had that strange but comforting "thump thump" sound coming from it. Two large arms encircled him and he quickly fell asleep, purring contently.
His first night spent with Leendonn was peaceful and uneventful, thankfully. This one, however, was not like that. Quiet dreamt.
It was such a weird dream too, he couldn't make heads or tails of it. It started out with lots and lots of mirrors, all showing him. As he looked into them, he got the distinct feeling that this small body was not his original one, but once again, the clear answer eluded him.
He really hated mirrors, he concluded angrily.
As if obeying his thoughts, the image melted away. Instead he saw strange shadows move around him. He saw a flash of gold and blue and a distant, deep voice boomed:
- Justice be done!
Quiet didn't exactly understand the words, but he felt the conviction and the determination that emanated from them. He also somehow knew it was an angel talking, one of his own kin.
Then gold was gone and was replaced by green and grey scales and a smooth female voice:
- My love, you—we have done it—the W—
This one was far more broken, and unlike the male voice, it was laced with unnecessary sweetness, a dangerous edge and a malevolent subtone that sent shivers down his spine. He really hated this voice, he realized.
He wanted to hear the male angel talk more, but now the dream did not comply. Instead, the two voices began talking at the same time, slowly but surely melting together into one ear-splittingly bad chorus.
- Many a battles have fought together—
- You are a most interesting angel, I'll say—
- What? —us, what are you talking ab—?!
- Do you believe it can be done?
- Where have your judgement gone, brot—? Your reason has left you!
- Content with p—?! We can finally win the Eter—!
- Abandon these pointless daydreams, In—! You know fully well what is our—
- You will not hurt our chi—! I will make you see what they can—!
- Silence! You are not making any sense!
- You are a blind fool!
Shut up! Shut UP! SHUT THE HELL UP!
Quiet covered his ears as the two voices practically screamed at him, he screwed his eyes shut, trying to will the images away. It was just a dream! Just a stupid dream! He wanted to wake up! He would wake up!
And then he felt it, a sensation that washed the dream away.
A life had just been extinguished nearby.
Man, getting the ending of this chapter down was a bit of a brainstorming.
I would like to thank the two Guests (PaulM and JC) for reviewing the story. You guys are so kind, I wish I could reply to your words! I very much appreciate them, though, and I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the story as well, wherever it may take all of us! ;)
