Daemon's Legacy

Bob paused and leaned against a tall coniferous tree, wincing from the throbbing ache in his legs. His rest at the inn had left his muscles weak and stiff, and no amount of stretching seemed to ease the pain.

To make matters worse the weather had been deteriorating from the moment he'd reached the base of the solitary mountain. The winds whipping around its granite bulk had steadily increased as he crossed the flatlands, buffeting him in their chill grip. As he began his climb the temperature seemed to drop with every step, offsetting any benefits the Guardian might have felt from the wind shield provided by the mountain. The sky above him was slate gray, much as it had been on their arrival, and the upper reaches of the mountain were lost in cloud.

Bob tried to use his discomfort to comfort himself, telling himself that it was ample evidence he'd made the right decision in leaving Enzo behind. It was a losing battle. The boy's gaunt face haunted him, seeming to scream the accusations of betrayal that he wouldn't make in words. After all of his pain, his terror, he'd been abandoned by the one friend he had in this strange, cruel place. Left behind with a game sprite. How could it possibly have been the right thing to do?

"I don't believe in the no-win scenario!" the Guardian growled, desperately willing himself to concentrate on the daunting task at had. The Users had a head start on him and were on horseback to boot, although they'd be abandoning the horses if Rosa were correct in her judgement. Indeed, the treacherous, rocky terrain at even the lower levels of the mountain seemed ill-suited to the large animals. Still, they had a cycle's lead on him and were presumably healthier than he was.

With a low groan Bob pushed away from the tree and resumed picking his way up the mountain. He couldn't let them win – it wasn't an option. If he lost the game his abandonment of Enzo was a waste, meaningless. And worse, who knew what would befall them after a lost game? The boy seemed very far away at that moment. He had to win, it was that simple. It was the only way the Guardian could be sure he'd ever find the boy again.

Enzo inched his way down the stairs, gritting his teeth as his legs howled in protest. The youngster could feel his chest clearing, feel the life returning to his body with agonizing slowness. He was alive, he was processing – it was something, at least. And the black depression that had consumed him since Bob's departure had lifted – though it had been replaced by an agonizing uncertainty that felt almost as crippling to the boy.

He looked around the common room, eyes wide. It was the first time he'd seen it while fully conscious, and it was like nothing he'd experienced in Mainframe. Where Dot's Diner was clean, bright, and ascetic the inn was rough, humble and faded. The furniture was simple, crudely made – blocky wooden chairs and rickety tables. The room smelled of grease and wood smoke, of unwashed bodies. Enzo found it utterly fascinating.

Despite its humility, however, it was immaculately clean – every surface was clear and the floor free of the detritus of eating and drinking. Enzo felt, not for the first time, a pang of recognition as he stared at the red-haired woman behind the bar, fiddling with a pear shaped bottle. This place was hers, and humble as it was she kept it with pride, just as Dot kept the diner – and with much poorer resources at her disposal.

The room was nearly empty – the only other person besides the woman cleaning the counter a burly, mustachioed man seated at one of the tables, tankard in hand. Enzo tentatively stepped off of the final stair and into the room, stumbling slightly. Both figures turned to stare at him. "Enzo! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Rosa." The youngster replied, locking eyes with the man in the tattered gray tunic and trousers. The farmer stared back at him impassively, a hint of fear in his eyes. Enzo jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You sure you're up to this, Child? Climbing those stairs on your own?"

"Huh?" the boy mumbled, still staring at the farmer.

"This is Enzo, Stefan. Not exactly a terrifying figure, is he? Just a sick boy is all."

The man in gray nodded slightly and took a sip of his drink. "Boy. Rosa been taking care of you, has she?"

"Yes, Sir." The youngster whispered.

The man stood and slowly walked towards them, staring down at the boy. "Strange one, isn't he Rosa?"

"Never seen the like – him or his friend." The innkeeper grinned. "But they're just people is all, Stefan. Shake the man's hand, Child. Don't be scared of the likes of him."

The boy tentatively stuck out his hand. Stefan stared at for a moment, then glanced up at Rosa. Enzo felt the calluses as the burly hand took his own, enveloped it. The man's grip was surprisingly gentle. "Mind the lady, Lad. She knows what's best for ye, she does."

"Yes Sir." Enzo nodded dumbly.

"That all he knows how to say?" the big man smiled, releasing his hand.

"He's a born talker." The innkeeper said wryly. "Just a little shy at the moment he is."

"I'd best be home to my wife and daughter." Stefan sighed. "Well met, Boy."

"Stefan?" Rosa frowned. "He's just a boy, you old fool – just a person like you and me. Sure as hell you're not scared of him?"

"You know me better than that, Rosa. You know my Angelina too - especially if I'm late home with the mead on my breath. Sleep well."

"Go with care, Stefan." The innkeeper said softly. Stefan nodded at Enzo and departed, leaving the woman and boy alone in the common room.

"Why did you say he was scared of me?" Enzo asked.

"I was just having a little fun with an old friend is all." Rosa smiled, bolting the door and grabbing him by the hand. "Come – sit with me and talk. You are feeling well?"

Enzo meekly followed her to Stefan's table and sat. "I'm just a kid. Why would he be scared of me?"

"We live in cruel times, Child – that's all. Strangers are rare in the village these last few years. But Stefan is a good man. He's not a fool like so many of them. Even the fools are good men though, mostly…"

Enzo looked around the room, wide-eyed. "I've never seen anyplace like this…"

"What a strange village you must come from, then. Are you thirsty, My Angel?"

"Kinda." The boy nodded. He sniffed at the tankard on the table. "What's this?"

"Never you mind." Rosa growled, snatching it away. "The last thing in the world you need is what that is. I'll fetch you some milk if you like."

"That's OK." The youngster smiled.

"All the way down the stairs, all by yourself! You must be feeling better, yes?"

"I guess." Enzo sighed.

"What's wrong?" the red-haired woman frowned. "You miss Bob."

"Maybe…"

"Of course you do." She brushed the hair out of his eyes with a sad smile. "It seems so cruel - so much sadness for a little boy…"

"I'm not a little boy!" Enzo scowled.

"Of course you're not." Rosa nodded hastily. "You're eleven! Just little for your age is all I meant. But I wish your time here were a happier one. It is a place of misery, this is."

"What do you mean? The mountain and everything?"

"Do not speak of it." Rosa whispered. "I'm glad you are getting better, My Angel. But I am sorry Bob is not here with you. You must be very lonely."

"Maybe a little." Enzo admitted. "But I… Never mind."

"What is it, Child?"

"Nothing." The boy sighed. "I think I'll take that milk now."

"Of course." The innkeeper nodded, standing. She walked to the bar and reached under the counter, pouring liquid from a stoneware pitcher into a tankard. "Here you are, Child. Fresh from the goat this morning."

"Goat?"

"Heh! Yet another everyday thing that surprises you, boy. Drink!"

"Thanks." The boy took a deep swig of the drink and smacked his lips. "It's good!"

"I know it is." The red-haired woman patted him softly on the hand. "I am sorry your friend has left you behind. I know it hurts you to be away from him."

"I'm not mad at him, or anything." Enzo frowned. "He had to leave when he did."

"I do not understand, Child. To leave a boy such as you and go to face his own destruction – yours must be a strange people."

"He won't die!" the boy growled. "He- He-…"

"Please, Child! I do not mean to upset you – it just seems strange to me, is all. That he would go away and leave you here."

"You don't know anything about him!" Enzo snapped. "He has a lot of responsibilities…"

"I think I do not know anything about him, as you say." The innkeeper replied gently. "I am a simple woman, that is all."

"Just end-file that stuff, OK?" Enzo muttered. "Bob would never leave me here if he didn't have to."

"I do not understand… 'End file'?"

Enzo blushed bright red. "It means… Look – just quit it, OK?"

"As you wish." Rosa sighed. "I'm sorry if I caused you pain, Child."

"It's OK. I just don't like to talk about that stuff, I guess."

"Then we will not." The red-haired woman smiled sadly. "But there is something else, I think, that troubles you. In your eyes I see it – such strange, restless eyes. What is it?"

"I dunno." The boy mumbled. He took a swig of his milk and looked away. "I'm fine."

"What is it, Angel? Do not be afraid to tell me – I have held your hand while you struggled for your very life! You need not guard your pain from me."

The boy turned his gaze to hers and stared for a long moment. "I…"

"What is it, Enzo? I see frustration in you, not the sadness I would expect. Why are you so filled with anger? I had thought you were angry at Bob for leaving you but clearly it is not the case."

"I told you I'm not mad!" Enzo said, feeling his frustration build. The innkeeper was showing yet another quality reminiscent of Dot, and it made the boy profoundly uncomfortable. "Can't you just leave me alone?"

"Is that what you want?" Rosa asked softly.

Enzo closed his eyes, tried to remember the relaxation exercises Bob had taught him. "I just… I just wish I could help Bob more!" he blurted finally. "Instead of getting in his way…"

"Oh, Enzo…"

"I try really hard!" the youngster said. "He tries to teach me stuff and I try to learn but I just end up slowing him down. I must be totally basic! I think he needs my help now but I'm stuck here and he's all alone…"

Rosa sighed and clasped his hand in her own. "Why did God make boys so restless?"

"What?" Enzo scowled.

"You are all the same!" the innkeeper answered with a shake of the head. "Always impatient to see everything, do everything, and always right now!"

"You don't know me!"

"I know enough! Your gender is never content with the here and now, Boy. Always you worry about what you're missing, about what might happen. So much heartache it causes! Why can you never appreciate the joys of what you have?"

"You're wrong! I appreciate stuff plenty!"

"Wrong, am I?" Rosa replied wryly. "If I were wrong Bob would still be here, Child. He would still be with his little boy. A boy others would give their left arm to have as their own! To know the joys of sharing their life with such a child… I would give anything! And Bob throws it away, My Angel! For a foolish quest with an inevitable tragic outcome. Why must this always be the way?"

Enzo's jaw dropped. "R-Rosa?"

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "It is not right that I should berate you like this, Child. You're still sick, weak…"

"It's all right." Enzo smiled hesitantly. "I'm fine…"

"Oh, Child…" The innkeeper leaned across the table and cradled the youngster's head to her shoulder. "It would be as well that I ask a fish not to swim…"

"You remind me a lot of my sister." Enzo whispered, returning the woman's embrace.

"My Child, My sweet Child… You are so young! Only eleven! Why do you torture yourself over such things? Life can be such a joy! No one expects you to bear the weight of an adult's responsibilities. Why do you demand it of yourself?"

"I don't know what you mean…"

"Is it not enough to be a child, Enzo? What can be nobler than to be pure of heart and possessed of such a sweet soul? Yet you yearn so to be an adult that you fill your heart with misery! Why? Do you imagine Bob will love you less otherwise?"

"No!" Enzo sighed, somehow unable to will himself free of the innkeeper's arms. "I just… I just wanna be like everyone else! I'm sick of people having to take care of me all the time!"

The red-haired woman chuckled bitterly. "So it goes Child, so it goes. Your sister wishes nothing more than to care for you, I'm certain. A boy such as you must surely be the light in her life. Yet here you are – far away from her, and yearning to be free of her protection. The world is a cruel place."

Enzo gently pushed himself away from the woman at last. "I like it when Dot takes me of me." He said with a small smile. "Even Bob, sometimes. They're the best. But Bob really needs me right now and I'm not there to help him."

"Why does he need you, Angel?" Rosa pleaded. "I think you are the one who needs him!"

"You don't understand. He really needs me. He's all alone and we're supposed to be partners!"

"You are right, Child. I do not understand. I understand nothing and my life is a misery. Yet still I continue to breathe and eat and sleep, and each day is followed by another. That is the only thing I understand. Are you tired?"

The youngster was a little startled by the sudden change in tack. "I… I'm OK, I guess. I'm OK."

"Well I, for one, am exhausted." The woman sighed. "Would you like me to carry you up the stairs?"

"N-No… I'm fine, thanks."

"Well, at least take my hand, then." She smiled wearily. "Take your milk – you can finish it in your room."

"OK." The boy silently grasped her hand in his own and followed her to the stairs. Ascending them was tougher on his lungs than descending had been, but the youngster could feel the strength slowly returning to his legs.

"I am sorry if I've upset you." Rosa said softly as they stood outside the door the little room that had become Enzo's home. "I'm wont to speak my mind without considering the effects, I'm afraid."

"It's cool." The boy smiled, choking back an involuntary laugh at her puzzled reaction. "Like I said, you remind me a lot of my sister."

"Indeed? If she is anything like her brother I will take that as a compliment."

"She's not much like me." Enzo replied ruefully. "But I still meant it as a compliment."

"Such a sweet child you are…" The innkeeper kissed him softly on the cheek and squeezed his hand. "Good night, My Angel. Sleep well."

"You too." Rosa released the boy's hand and he watched her slowly walk down the hall, humming softly to herself. Suddenly, he felt a yawning emptiness inside him, a pang of utter sadness at his very processor. "Rosa!" he blurted out.

"Yes, Child?"

"Uh…"

"What? What is it Enzo?" the innkeeper frowned. "Are you all right?"

"Thanks!" he rasped finally. "You know – for being so nice and everything. You're not like anyone I've ever met in a…a… You're not like anyone I've ever met."

"Nor are you, Angel." She smiled.

"Good night." The red-haired woman nodded and disappeared into her room, leaving Enzo alone in the dim hallway.