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Christoph Halangue's Journal, June 16th (night)
It is such a pity that I cannot travel during daylight yet; according to james, that takes quite some practise. I can smell the sweet scent of fresh rain on flowers as I ride through the forest. I can see rather wll out of the carriage into the dark, but nothing more inspiring than dull shades of grey. I am trying to find a comfortable position to write in, so I am sure that I still have several more hours to go in this bumpy ride, and I am having some difficulty. At least the seats are comfortable; red silk cushions are a luxury that I would sorely miss on these journeys. I think I should try and sleep until I reach Daeshtine; I am feeling rather light-headed as I have gone without foor or drink for a few days, due to lack of time and availability at the moment. I shall put off writing until I arrive at the inn.
June 17th (Morning)
I was awoken just before dawn by the driver at the edge of town, quite startled by his appearance. His face was horribly scarred, with odd shadows dancing on the various bumps and ridges in his candle's light. He must have seen the repulsion play across my face for he gestured to me with a nod and mumbled something to the effect of 'Look at yourself, pretty boy.' I feared that he was speaking of my mark, and I couldn't have him alive if he'd seen it. Quickly combing my hair back over the right side of my face with my hands, I crept up behind him and took his life. I must say that it is something I would rather forget, for it was somewhat of an embarrasing impulse and was rather grotesque. Blood everywhere, I gathered my things and rushed into town, hoping that the wolves would come and perhaps, take the blame for this.
If I had let the man go, there was no doubt that the next time he was out for a drink, sharing stories, he would talk about ' the queer fellow from the castle... had a nasty burn on his face, the shape os a cross, it was." Yes, I could see it now... Needless to say, that would begin people talking and draw more attention to us than what was safe. By 'us' , of course, I am refering to Gerard and I.
I was very glad to see him waiting for me at the Victory Inn in Daeshtine, so close to sunrise. At the moment, he was just as vulnerable as I; he too had been up all night and was rather tired. With a last glance at the sky, I was glad that I hadn't wasted too much time. We went inside to his room, which he shared with two other men today. They were still sleeping but would be awake soon. We decided just to sleep first; we couldn't even speak in our native tongue, lest that bring more attention to us as well.
At the moment, I am writing in the room. It is some time near eight or nine in the morning, an our roommates have already departed. gerard is sleeping, however, and I am in no mood to do so until a maid comes to change these sheets, tidy up, and do whatever else they do. Probably not much, not here anyway. For a cheap little inn, this place is decently clean though. I'm judging the cost of a room by the men that were here. Both were painfully dirty, ragged, and probably dieased; I was relieved when they left, as I could almost feel the air beginngin to clear.
Gerard is still sleeping and will probably continue until nightfall; he's always been more traditional. I should sleep as well, but I would hate to wake him. Even in rest he looks tired, scruffy, and slightly troubled. His hair is falling all over his face and shoulders, and his mouth is opn slightly. I imagine that he was tired, for he has hardly moved in a few hours and he even fell asleep fully clothed ; the only articles of clothing he has removed are his cloak and boots. It must be dreadfully uncomfortable, but, I think I shall sleep now.
 Ass Pirate Fairy Boy · Fri Jan 05, 2007 @ 09:43pm · 0 Comments |
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