|
|
|
The wind was cold on Dante's cheeks. His fingers were numb as they gripped the banister, and his left leg was starting to sting. He had just finished another job for the Order, and he sat now in his window thinking on the events as they played out in his mind. His gaze shot from the shadowed moon to inside as someone rapped sharply against his door. "Come in," he said, turning and lowering himself inside. He had changed Jareth's old room considerably, all of the windows were open and without glass, and he had covered all of the walls with tapestries and ornaments of battle so that the gashes were hidden. "Good morning, Dante." Zephiel said quietly as he shut the door behind him. "Ah, just at the right moment. I need to speak to you about the next meeting, I feel that Janus' disappearence needs to be brought to light..." "You feel it, don't you?" Zephiel brought his face into the faint moonlight and Dante inhaled sharply. His face was worn and stretched, and the obvious trails of tears were visible. "Uncle, I've never seen you like this..." He shook his head, regaining composure. "Sit, here." He flicked his wrist and a chair resting against the wall slid over to the right of Zephiel. As he took a seat, Dante continued. "I... I was just thinking about that, Zephiel. I riding past the old kingdom where he fell, and I sensed him. Just as I can sense you here in this room, I felt his presence. But he could not be targeted in any certain location, he was everywhere." Zephiel nodded. "I see..." He leaned closer. "You must tell nobody of this, Dante." the black coat whipped as he stood and turned. "I am going out to settle this mystery, I will keep in touch." He tapped his temple, and lifted his steel-plated boot to the windowsil. In a single swift movement, the second in command of the Order shot from the window and disappeared into the dark night. Dante fell back on his bed. 'I should have told him...' he thought to himself. 'he already knows, he must... How could he not?' He shook his head sharply, the two voices in his mind batted at each other once more, but grew quiet. "I'm losing my mind..." He said in but a whisper, finally feeling the fatigue that had wrapped itself out of hsi conscience for the past few nights....
Jareth Black · Sun Dec 18, 2005 @ 04:15am · 1 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|