So I'm back again (still on WordPad), procrastinating my NaNo, but I have a good reason. If I didn't vent my impulse to cause mental and emotional trauma to characters, it'd end up in my romantic comedy NaNo. Yeah, so not good. However, I am back again with another missing scene involving minor characters who don't even have fanfics of their own before. (If this is incorrect, please tell me: I want to read them!) But I must warn you now, it gets real...mean here. Like, emotionally scarring mean. The scary thing is that it fits in the canon. Indeed.
Granted, one would think Grosum would be a bit more expressive if he endured what I'm about to put him through, but I took a page (read: loophole) from the anime and made it that Grosum is elegantly inexpressive. Clever, right? I also based this on the manga as I have it only a few feet from where I type. Those of you who've read Reluctant Snake know I've acquired some mad book-holding-while-typing skills. I summarized some parts of the dialogue during the big climax because let's face it, those explanations aren't necessary to us anymore.
One last thing, that loud townsman who shouted every piece of dialogue he had, since Grosum is acquainted with the townspeople, obviously, he'd know his name. So I gave him one. It's Simon.
Disclaimer: I own naught but myself.
Grosum looked skyward. If he desired any chance of getting back in time for an hour or two of sleep, now was the time to leave. He lowered his gaze, turning his attention forward and continued on. He would not give up this easily. This night would be no different from the others; he would exhaust every resource and then some before he stopped searching for the children.
A short gust whipped icy snow into his face and he crouched down in an attempt to guard against the wind. A sharp tremor shook his body, mockingly reminding him how foolish he was, how hopeless his pursuit of the children will be, that he would never find them, they would be forever gone, and the townspeople would blame him for their disappearance, him for their misery, and inevitably him for their poverty.
Grosum closed his eyes at the thought. The scorn, the rejection, both things he could bear. But never would he be able to live with the pain of losing the children.
The blast of air subsided, but the thoughts it brought remained firmly rooted in place. Slowly, he raised his head. Through the thick veil of snow and ice stood many more trees than before. It was understandable, of course. He had begun searching deeper into the forest on the eastern edge of the castle as of late, and this was such a time. However, the blank trees and unfamiliar surroundings only tore deeper into his resolve.
"It'll come soon," he whispered. It always came. The censure of his actions, the uncertainty of the value of his motivations. The sudden and overwhelming feeling of inadequacy to the entire need the last few days had brought. As the nights and missing children grew more numberous, so did the times where Grosum doubted his motives, his capabilities, his resources.
Himself.
Another swipe of wind tore at his face and it was there. The unavoidable sensation of somber short-coming as the gust blew harder and harder, the delicate flakes of snow now made into daggers of ice, stabbing Grosum incessantly with regret, sadness, and cold.
The cold. It was inescapable. Every feeling of loneliness, exculsion, loss, hurt, all summed up in one feeling. Cold. As though no one was left to care about you, all determination to live was peeled layer by layer from your body, and you had no reason to strive for, no reason to survive for-
The children, he reminded himself, they don't have the luxury of a warm coat and protective shoes. They are likely colder than I. I must find them to save them!
That's what Grosum repeated in his head over and over, using that to keep going, to keep looking.
The children. The children. The...children...
Try as he might, the wind, the snow, the mental struggle, all was too much for one time and he slumped in his saddle.
He stared blearily through an exhaustion and snow induced haze to see the castle. His horse, used to these journeys late into the morning, had pranced about to maintain his rider's balance and made its way back to running water. Grosum patted his horse's flank affectionately, "Thank you."
The horse whinnied and flung its head, as though to say he was but thirsty is all. Like master, like horse apparently.
Grosum carefully slid off the saddle and allowed his horse to drink from the fast moving stream. As he waited, he observed the water.
The only place he had yet inspected was the castle and even though he searched relentlessly all else, he was almost certain the children resided in the castle. Now, he decided, would be a good time to turn his focus back to it.
If I can construct a device to cross the river...He could reach the castle. It was his only option.
His horse looked up in question as Grosum began searching around for something to use. It was not an easy task. There was little but trees and snow around him. He looked among the trees and noticed a few limbs lying about. Possibly he could make a dam, but the river was far too wide.
He walked over to where the remains of the once functional bridge stood, jutting halfway into the torrent. It was worse here, the raging river squeezed into a smaller space increased the pressure and speed of the water, but it was the best choice for where he'd make his attempt.
Grosum went back to the limbs and tried to pick the sturdiest and strongest. Hauling a few back to the bridge, he arranged them to support one another before he tried to lay them out across the river to complete the bridge. He succeeded in that and paused, looking it over. He doubted it would suffice, but he had to try.
He must try.
He stepped tentatively out on the branches. It seemed well enough. Carefully, he walked a few more feet. He was shocked to find the limbs held up perfectly. Reassured, he walked farther. But right on the apex, the limps sagged and cracked, breaking apart and flowing down the river, the current sweeping Grosum with them.
The moment the water washed over him, he was certain this was the end. It was too cold; the icy water freezing him still for those first few seconds, but they seemed to last hours. His whole body seemed to shut down, stopping all function and movement, turning once useable arms and legs into lead. In an instant though, the use returned in a surge to his limbs.
Desperately, he grasped for the surface, clothes tugging and weighing him down, struggling arms flailing uselessly against the invincible torrent. Somehow, though, his head bobbed up, but the relentless river wasted no time in pulling it back down.
This time, instead of fighting madly, Grosum allowed the river to rush him along, relaxing, but unable to push aside the panic racing through him, but moving nonetheless toward the surface with the current. Now when he broke through, he grasped for something, anything to latch onto and right as he felt his legs slide from under him and his body begin to follow them into the merciless freeze, his fingers closed around a section of rock protruding from the sharp bank. He will never know where he got the strength to pull himself out of that roiling tide, but he dragged himself up the side and collapsed in a heap in the snow.
Breath coming out in fast huffs, Grosum struggled to his feet, using his horse to stand. As he tried to get the feeling back in his extremities, he looked to where he had been moments from being swept into. His mind was too tired and reeling too much to thank the powers that be he had escaped when he did.
A collection of immovable, jagged rocks stood not fifteen feet from where he had pulled himself from the river. The twisted, splintered remains of his attempt to cross were tangled around them, crushed in a blunt metaphor of what would had awaited him if he had not found that rock.
With great effort, Grosum turned his face away from his near-fate and started for the village. He was exhausted and freezing, the water from his experience already seeming to be hardening into a solid weight of ice. It took him a moment to realize he was even shaking, the cold and aftershock were so severe. He probably wouldn't be able to comprehend just how close he truly had been to never returning until some time later. Right now, he needed to get home.
As he led his horse away, he looked back, a final gaze to the castle, swearing mentally he would return.
But he saw something else as well.
It was those travellers and one of the townspeople, likely searching for the children as well. They all were looking at him. He could not make out the words, but he did hear his name. They were talking of him.
The pale-haired one smiled and raised a hand in greeting, though it seemed to be just a gesture of acknowledgement.
"Since hearing the old legend," the townsman shouted, audible even to Grosum, "nobody from the village would go near the castle unless they had a really good reason!"
Grosum turned away. Knowing the people disdained him, seeing conversations break off as he passed, this Grosum had experienced. However, it still cut slightly every time he heard one of them intimate the belief he had stolen the children. Was he really that terrible to deserve such a painful accusation? Apparently so.
He continued onward, away from the group. If they thought him the culprit, let them. Nothing they said would be able to stop him for caring about the village in return.
Grosum was not surprised to see it was already past noon when he had finished changing clothes and drying off. This had been the occasion more than once when he had been searching for particularly long.
Abruptly, the doorbell rang and Grosum went to see who it was. The mayor usually didn't come around at this time and no one in the village would wish to visit. If there was a mob outside waiting to apprehend him, they obviously wouldn't waste time with the bell.
He opened the door. His eyes narrowed at who was there.
"Why have you come here?" he asked coldly.
The blond traveller smiled, "Don't worry, Grosum-san. We're merely here on business."
"Business?" he repeated suspiciously.
"May we borrow one of your books, Grosum-san?" the child asked solemnly, "I have reason to believe there will be a clue to solving this town's disappearances in the history."
"The town history, is it?" he hesitated, then nodded, "Very well. But only the history."
Grosum opened the door to admit the three.
"I'm afraid we never got properly introduced," the blond said amiably, "It would be rude to borrow a book without telling the loaner who we are. I am Fai, this is my assistant Syaoran, and the-"
"My name is Kurogane," the brooding traveller interrupted, not allowing Fai to finish.
"I must assume you know who I am," Grosum replied, "Please wait here, I'll be back in a moment."
He left for his library and as he was bringing it back, he heard part of a conversation in progress.
"...feather."
"We all want to retrieve Sakura-chan's feather," Fai's voice said, "But aren't the children just as important, at least for her?"
"...yes," Syaoran's voice responded softly, almost fondly, "Her Highness always saw others before herself."
There was a comfortable silence after his words and Grosum returned holding the book.
"Here you are. Try not to damage it," he handed it to Syaoran.
"Thank you, Grosum-san," Syaoran thanked him. He instantly opened it to a particular section and started nodding like something had been confirmed. He continued looking at the book as he asked, "Grosum-san, does the legend ever mention what happened to the feather after the princess died?"
"I don't believe so," he said carefully. Syaoran scowled in thought.
"Is there any other reason you are here?" Grosum inquired after a few moments, as they were still loitering in his foyer.
"Actually, yes," Syaoran looked up from the book, "I'd like you to accompany us tonight to catch the criminal. We plan to set up a trick to catch him off guard."
Grosum was taken aback, "So...you don't believe I am the culprit?"
The boy shook his head, "No, we don't. But I believe I know who is. However, I'd like to confirm it before I incriminate anyone."
But by the way he said it, Syaoran seemed absolutely certain in his suspect.
"Very well," he replied after a moment, "I will come."
"I appreciate it."
Grosum watched as they left, dwelling on this new knowledge. Could they really have found the true kidnapper?
That night, all was revealed.
"I was worried about the children, so I followed after!" Kyle-sensei defended, "You said that everyone was watching Grosum-san, so..."
That must be what the boy meant by setting up a trick...Grosum thought as he stepped out into view.
"Grosum-san!" Kyle-sensei exclaimed, "What are you doing here?!"
"Grosum-san isn't the criminal," Syaoran stated calmly, "The fact he was wet is proof of that."
Grosum was surprised at his deduction. This child was obviously the true mind behind these strange travellers.
"We looked everywhere and couldn't find anything," Grosum admitted, "and I went time and time again to check the castle, but..." He glanced at the branch-threaded rocks. Again he was reminded, he'd never forget that brush with death, "With the flow of the river, I could never cross."
He faced forward once more,"I tried to construct a device to cross, but...'
"In the process, you fell in the river," Syaoran finished. Grosum nodded and Syaoran turned back to Kyle-sensei.
"The one who did it knows an easier way to enter the castle."
The boy began to explain how Kyle-sensei's medical records correlated to the disappearances. At the mention of hypnotic suggestion, Grosum's mind started whirling. As inconceivable as it was, hypnotism explained and matched up to everything.
Then Kyle-sensei posed the most important question.
"Then where have the children gone?"
Grosum tensed in anticipation of the answer.
"I'd say, the castle," Syaoran replied and scowled at Kyle-sensei, "You stopped the river and crossed."
The pronoucement shocked Grosum, "How did it happen? How did the river stop?!"
The amount of exhaustion, near-hypothermia, and pain he could have been spared...but inside, he knew he would do it again if it meant saving the children.
"This book," he recognized the mayor's history in Syaoran's hand, "It's the history of this country that I borrowed from the mayor. He mentioned that you had borrowed it as well."
He flipped it open and turned to a specific page, "There are several pages missing. But these pages are removed in such a way as one would never notice while reading."
Sure enough, there was a space where pages were not longer connected to the binding.
"This is the history book Grosum-san owns," Syaoran said, lifting up the other copy, "It contains all the pages." He glanced at Grosum, "Grosum-san was not too well disposed to us."
"There was animosity between myself and everyone in the town," Grosum realized aloud, "so you assumed that no one would dare come to borrow my book."
The boy stated speaking of the underground waterways, "If there are waterways," he stated, "then one should be able to devise a way to divert water from the river."
A long pause followed his words, broken by the call of Fai from somewhere to the right, "Well? Did the water stop?"
He, Kurogane, and Simon, the townsman from before, all joined the three already on the bridge.
"We found the spot that Syaoran-kun said would be there and would stop the water," Fai continued, "It was hidden and incredibly old, but the mechanisms still worked. It's a machine that stops the river from flowing," he said happily as everyone else's expressions darkened, "And there are signs it's been used recently."
"I imagine there is a similar device inside the castle as well," he added thoughtfully and it seemed right at that moment Simon lost his restraint.
"Doctor! It isn't true, right? They say you kidnapped the children! Say it's a lie!"
The answer he received was not a favorable one.
The doctor started to tremble, but not from cold or fear, "Heh...heheh..."
"...ahahaha!" To Grosum's disgust, Kyle-sensei laughed, "That sure throws a wrench in my plans, doesn't it?! To think some outsiders walk in and prove I kidnapped the children!"
Grosum glanced at the travellers. Just who were these people anyways to deduce what no one could?
"When all I wanted was to take what I came for and leave!"
At those words, he swiveled back to Kyle-sensei, "Was it really you who did it?"
"There is something in the castle that I want," Kyle-sensei explained, "but it's in a place I can't reach. Nobody but a child can get in there."
He stole the children solely for that purpose?!Grosum raged internally.
"You kidnapped the children just for that?!" he demanded.
"'Just for that'," Kyle-sensei mocked, "You can spout such idiotic words because you know nothing about me!" He started running towards the edge of the bridge.
"Stop!"
But Kyle-sensei kept running right off the edge. And on further.
"He's walking on the water!" Grosum exclaimed. How?!
"No, he isn't," Syaoran corrected, "His footprints are glowing. There's a rock path beneath the surface."
In the background, the other two travellers commented on the white rabbit, but Grosum was still watching Kyle-sensei disappear.
"Let's go after him!" Syaoran declared.
They all began to cross, but Grosum hesitated at the edge. The last time he faced this spot, it had ended horribly. He shook his head and reminded himself.
The children, they're so close. Now is not the time to be afraid.
He stepped out onto the submerged path and shakily made his way across. Though the water was still and the footing was solid, he couldn't stop thinking about being rushed away by that torrent once more. That device was supposed to be terribly old, what if it burst? What if the water decided to claim back what it had allowed to slip from its grasp? All thoughts that haunted Grosum as he made his hesitant way across.
Upon him stepping onto the castle bank, Simon scowled at Grosum. Apparently he must have thought Grosum's slow pace was due to a haughty reluctance to get his shoes wet. After all, Simon hadn't been there when Syaoran explained why he had been wet the day before. As Simon went after the travellers, Grosum found that he preferred the man thinking that. It was not his nature to express such forceful emotions such as fear.
The group soon found the entrance to the underground, then followed the footprints as far as they went.
"The footprints ended!"
"He noticed and took his shoes off," Kurogane observed.
"There are other footprints here," Syaoran kneeled for a closer look.
"The children?" hazarded Grosum.
"He probably didn't have time to erase them," Fai commented, "and they lead the way!"
They ran down the steps and right before Grosum saw them, he heard a shout.
"Sakura-hime!"
The boy sounded anxious.
Grosum finally reached the bottom of the stairs and took in the scene. It was Kyle-sensei, holding a dagger to Sakura's neck. Syaoran seemed struggling between attacking him and staying still for Sakura.
"All I need is the feather, and this tiny town," Kyle-sensei grinned, "no, this whole country will be mine to control! After all, three hundred years ago, the princess with the locks of gold built an entire underground town and saved the children using the feather's power!"
"The golden-haired princess kidnapped the children and killed them in the castle, didn't she?!" Simon protested.
"Oh if she wanted to kill them," Kyle-sensei smirked, "why would she need rooms like this?"
It was then that attention was drawn away from the two in the center and around the room. A set of swings, rocking horses, and other things that better belonged on a playground than under a castle.
"Now that he mentions it, I did see rooms with a lot of beds back there," Fai added.
"They were for the sake of the children," Grosum said softly.
"But," Simon still protested, "right after she got the feather, the king and queen died!"
"No, that's wrong," Sakura said suddenly. Everyone turned to her in surprise. After a moment she spoke again, but as if she was talking to someone who wasn't there.
"So when it said that no parents were ever able to hold their children in their laps again..."
However, Kyle-sensei seemed to know exactly who she was speaking to.
"I have no time to listen to women talking to phantoms!" he raised the dagger, "Give me that feather!" he brought it sharply down.
"Don't do it!" Syaoran shouted and jumped between the dagger and Sakura. An arch of blood splattered as it dug into his shoulder.
Then, the room shook. Not just shook, rumbled, rocks trembling up and down on the ground and footing quickly being lost beneath their feet.
"What's that noise?"
"An earthquake?"
"No!" Syaoran warned, "That's the sound of-"
His sentence was cut off as the wall beside them exploded.
"Waaa!"
"Water?!" Grosum exclaimed.
Of all things, it had to be water that fountained out of that hole. The water that had captured him, the water that had tried to kill him, the same water that had stood not only as a barrier from the castle, but as a punishment for challenging nature's might. Grosum stepped back as the water rushed around his feet.
"Watch out!" Simon's shout broke him from his trance and not a moment later, a slab of stone fell not a few feet in front of Fai, separating them from Syaoran, Sakura, and Kyle-sensei.
"Get the children above ground!" Syaoran instructed above the roar of the water, "Don't worry about us! We'll get out! You go on ahead!"
"But...!" Grosum had been there, he had seen, felt, nearly succumbed to the fury of that water. He knew one only survived that type of experiance by divine luck and never again at that. If they went in there alone...
Then there was no doubt in his mind that they wouldn't come out alive.
"Let's go," Kurogane ordered.
"Yup!" Fai smiled, picking up some children, "Let's get out of here."
"But your friends are in danger!"
Fai looked over to Simon, "If he says he'll get out, he'll get out. That's how Syaoran-kun is."
Grosum spared one last look to the rising water and nodded. That child was always was so determined about everything, maybe they would see them again.
They gathered the children and helped them out of the underground tunnels and across the river. Grosum, however, stopped when he reached the water.
He had had trouble before with crossing the river when it was at a stand still. But the current stood meekly no longer. While it did not even near the flow that had stolen him away before, Grosum could not banish the overwhelming unwillingness to cross. He stepped back.
It was impossible. His mind desperately tried to tell him that he was in no danger, but his legs refused to move, his heart beat fast and nothing seemed to be able make him walk that submerged path.
On the other bank, the two travellers were setting down the children and making sure they were unharmed, but Simon looked back when he didn't hear Grosum behind him. What he saw was unbelievable.
Grosum seemed to be genuinely afraid to cross. He was backing away and couldn't tear his eyes from the slightly brisk current. Was it possible? When they were first entering the castle, Grosum had taken his time crossing. Had he actually been scared then?
No, Simon drove the thought away, Grosum-san being scared is preposterous. He doesn't have emotional capacity for such a strong feeling.
"Grosum-san!" he shouted, "Are you planning on crossing?!"
Grosum's head shot up. For a moment, dread still clung in his eyes before he pushed it aside.
The river will only get faster, he thought, I must go now.
With not a trace of his earlier fear visible on his face, Grosum crossed and instantly went to the children. They were asleep for the most part, probably induced by the hypnotism. As he shrugged off his coat and laid it on the children, he looked up at the sound of strong water. Not a minute after he crossed, the flow increased tenfold. If he had not crossed when he did...he looked back at the children. Internally, he let out a sigh of relief.
As hard and trying as it had been, they at least were saved. It had been worth it, he thought, exhausted, but happy, Without a doubt, everything had been worth it.
"Hey!" Simon exclaimed, "Nobody's coming out!"
Grosum glanced up.
"And the flow of the river is getting faster!"
"If the river flows any faster, no one will be able to cross!" Even as he spoke, Grosum had to raise his voice to be heard over the steadily increasing volume of the water.
"Are you sure those two will come out?" Simon asked.
The travellers didn't answer and it was one of the few times Grosum had seen Fai with anything other than a smile on his face.
"...there."
They looked to where Kurogane was staring intently. A splash of water shot up and he reached down.
Grasping his hand was Syaoran, clutching Sakura in his arms.
"Hyuu! You did it, didn't you, Syaoran-kun?" Fai said happily as Kurogane lifted the two out of the river.
"What about the doctor?" Simon asked.
"I...don't know," Syaoran replied, short on breath.
"The fact he isn't chasing you..." Fai said. Just then, the castle rumbled and collapsed on itself, the river bursting out in full blast. Ruin now stood where there was once a castle.
"...means that he shared the same fate as the castle," Fai finished.
Right after he said it, Sakura woke up and as everyone surrounded the princess, Grosum tore his eyes from the castle. This part of his life was over now. Never again would he have to brave the river to save stolen children.
They returned to the town and instantly, the children ran to their parents.
"It's so wonderful!"
"You're not hurt anywhere?"
"I was so worried about you!"
"You're back...you're back..."
The townspeople seemed to glow as tears of joy mixed with cheers of celebration. Parents clutched their children and others jumped and shouted in a bliss-induced high.
None seemed to glow brighter though, than Grosum, standing off away from the main crowd, smiling serenely.
The timeless moment of beautiful peace lasted uninterrupted for a while, but it was disturbed when Simon started marching angrily towards Grosum.
"Grosum-san!"
"Please don't," the mayor pleaded to him.
"I can'tbe calm!" Simon told him and whipped back around to Grosum, who had taken on a stolid expression, "Why didn't you say anything?!"
Grosum imperceptibly tighten his hand. What had the mayor told him?
"Even before Kyle-sensei made the deal," Simon said furiously, "you told the mayor that you would wait on our rents until a good harvest!"
Grosum glanced at the mayor, who didn't meet his gaze. In Grosum's mind, this was unnecessary information, something he had told the mayor when he had made his decision. The saving of the children should be all that was on the townspeople's minds; now was no time to be dwelling on what he had or had not done in the interest of the town.
"Not only that, but the inn was Grosum-san's to begin with," the mayor added, and Grosum couldn't help but be annoyed that he was making the situation worse. Couldn't they see that it was the only logical thing that could be done to save the town? Why must they insist on making a fuss?
"And you said that if someone were to make it into a doctor's office, you'd lease it rent-free?" Simon continued, "So in the middle of all of our troubles and worries, the one who cared most for the people of the town was you!"
Still Grosum did not reply. It was not his place to deem himself or any other the one who cared most for the townspeople. If they, the people who had to endure the hardships of poor harvest and kidnapped loved ones, thought he to be the holder of that great title, so let them.
"And when the children started to disappear, you spent nights without sleep looking for them!"
Not even the pronouncement of that knowledge could shake Grosum's belief he had only done what was right, nothing more. The people of the town suffered no less than he.
"Why didn't you tell any of us about it?!" Simon demanded.
"It's no great deal," Grosum replied, "but..."
He looked up at where the travellers were laughing and dodging pillows near the window, "In the end, my strength alone wasn't enough to bring the children home."
Uncharacteristically, Simon had nothing to say.
Grosum looked to where the other townspeople were still celebrating happily.
"I believe the mayor should be informed of what happened," he suggested, "I must go talk to the travellers, however."
"Then I'll just explain on the way," Simon said, "I have something I need to tell them too."
Grosum started walking to the inn, "As you wish."
By the time they reached it, Simon had explained everything.
"Hm. I see," the mayor commented, going up the stairs, "The ones behind the children coming back are those people who were authoring a book."
"But looking at them, they're really suspicious," Simon said, "They may say they're here to research a book, but they're really good fighters!"
"However they seem, they saved the children's lives," Grosum said, smiling, "I'll have to be sure to thank them one more time."
Simon glanced at Grosum. It was still odd to see what Grosum was really like without a veil of predisposition and prejudice clouding his eyes.
However, when they entered the room, they found the travellers had gone and left a note.
"It thanks us for the loan of the books and talks about Princess Emerald."
Apparently, the princess was not at fault and had been trying to cure the children. To do that, she had to have them near the feather. The travellers asked that they tell the true story of the princess.
"What do you think happened to them?" the mayor asked. Grosum lowered the paper, "It doesn't say where they went. But I'm sure they'll be fine."
"Yeah..." Simon agreed.
They left the inn and the mayor and Simon joined the crowd, but Grosum went to his home to get his horse.
He slowly rode away from the town and towards where the castle no longer stood.
"It must be some kind of strange magnetism," he murmured as the rubble entered his sight and the roar of the river screamed in his ears, "that pulls people to places that change their lives."
He tethered his horse and walked to the end of the bridge, looking down. The castle and its tunnels were gone. The doctor was gone. The feather was gone. The children had been returned. Even the remnants of the golden-haired princess's influence had disappeared. Yet the river flowed on. A constant, unceasing reminder of the dangers even a small town like Spirit faced. Grosum didn't believe he'd escape the influence this river had brought upon him. Even though every time he was away from the place, it drifted to and from his mind, every time he returned, the realization struck him hard. Coming upon the revelation that something could haunt forever, it was not pleasant.
Earlier he had thought that he had suffered no more than the townspeople. Was that really true? Given, the actions balanced equal, but did the pain, the affect it had on them measure to his own? Grosum remembered the boundless happiness that had followed the children's return. If it really was unequal, the amounts were very close.
He walked over to that fateful rock, the jutt of stone that had saved his life. Now that the children were safe and the legend was rectified, he could finally feel at peace enough to visit the site of his trauma.
Trauma. This was also the first time he had admitted that to himself. This wasn't just a poignant experience, a slightly more memorable moment in his life, but a real affect on his psyche, a scar on his past.
Grosum had always been adept at giving an impression of unfeeling, so adept, he had no longer allowed himself to see his emotions for what they were. Simon may have gotten an inkling of the scope of the affect this river had taken on him on that bridge, but Simon had never been one to keep things just under the surface to deal with later and likely forgotten Grosum's strange behavior in the excitement of the time.
Grosum debated whether he should draw his eyes to the rocks, but decided that he had come back here subconsciously to face and overcome his trauma and to do that, he'd have to face those rocks. He looked over to them.
In the rush of water that had followed the failure of the damming device, combined with some of the remains of the castle that had fallen into the water, the jagged stones had been blasted mercilessly. If not for the fact that Grosum knew they were the same rocks, they would be indistinguishable from their prior form. They were nearly harmless looking, small and meek in the water and there seemed to be none of the tangled tree limbs remaining between them, but upon closer look, a chunk of wood was wedged in the crack between the bank and one of the remaining stones.
Grosum carefully stepped near it and squatted down. Something made him reach out and tug on the wood, dislodging it into his hand. He straighten, still holding it.
So innocent seeming, now that it was free from the rocks. It was incredibly really, how it not only survived the initial crush, but the subsequent incessant flow of the river, then the blast from the collapse of the castle and the sudden return of the current. It had been lucky, it had latched onto a rock and survived. He smiled. No one would ever believe that Grosum would see himself in a splintered section of wood. He closed his hand around it and went back to his horse.
As he untied his horse, he thought about the effectiveness of this trip. He certainly didn't feel less...apprehensive about the raging river, but maybe something was different. The rocks that had been the pillars of death, the manifestation of certain doom, not even they had been spared from the flow of time. And the piece of wood, clinging to life, to existence, had lived to see it's deliverance, a testament to the fact that, yes, Grosum will never be the same and no, he won't be able to escape the memories for as long as he lived, but he had lived.
He had lived, he had survived, he had gotten the chance to see the children liberated, and that was important. Not that he had nearly died, but he had managed to not.
Grosum swung himself into his saddle and began to ride back. But before he left, he looked back at the rocks, the bridge, the river.
And he smiled.
Before you say anything, yes, it's perfectly logical falling into the river of that magnitude would traumatize someone. For those of you who only watched the anime, they totally underrated that river. It was massive and fast. Insanely. That said, point out any mistakes. Like for instance, if you know Simon's real name, please tell me.
And my fellow NaNos: Please don't crucify me for writing fantion with only 11k in the bank. I swear I'll get right on it.