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As late afternoon gently melded into early evening, the sky pulsing in the near electric glow of twilight, Aramis decided that it was time to settle down for the night. Granted, he'd encountered not a single sign of civilization yet, but he'd been in this situation plenty of times before. And so, he set his pack down on the floor and from it drew a light blanket which he promptly spread across the soft, cool grass. It will be cold tonight... But he'd dealt with cold before. Lying down, spread-eagled and staring absent-mindedly at the sky, he pondered on his situation for a while. He never really was one to take things very seriously unless they were matters of emotion, life or death. And right now, he was simply lost; nothing more, nothing less. He'd run into someone eventually. He didn't expect for someone to run into him, however.
Somewhere off in the distance, he heard the unmistakable shift of clothing as someone walked, unknowingly towards him. Getting to his feet as fast as he could, he craned his neck to look over the dimming horizon, damning the hills of Villimaroon for the first time in his life for obstructing his view. Perhaps the person was ascending a hill now and he just couldn't see---and suddenly, he appeared.
It was only a lone figure there, slowly making his way in the fast-approaching darkness. Aramis struggled to make out his features, his vision impared by the rapidly-fading light. He was tall--just as tall as Aramis himself, perhaps even taller. His pale complexion would have identified him as a Meenonite if only his hair had been blonde and his eyes blue. Instead, however, they were both (as far as he could tell in this light) a deep, unforgiving jet-black. For a moment, the thought entered his mind: Reckless. But no... No, this couldn't be Reckless. He was dead...
Aramis decided to take a few steps towards the man, an action that immediately caught his attention and caused him to halt in place. They were still quite a distance apart; maybe 100 yards or so. Aramis extended his arm in the sky and gave a wide, friendly wave. Hopefully, this man was no thief or murderer. It wouldn't be wise to welcome that sort of person's attention at all. After a tense moment or two, the man waved back, and they soon began to close the distance between them. Eventually, they met and shook hands.
His features were unfamiliar, Aramis thought with surprise. This man was neither Meenonite nor Vollan, neither Astalonian nor Galaronian, neither Xorian nor Dulkai. He certainly wasn't Kalim- or Rafa-D'ai. And there was no way he could be Solaurian, not with that complexion. What in the hell was he? He'd find out later, Aramis decided. For now, it's better to start off with basic introductions. "Been walking long?" he asked with a smile, extending his hand in a bid for the other to take it. "Longer than you can imagine," the stranger replied, taking Aramis' hand and giving it a hearty shake. "I can imagine quite a lot," Aramis replied, smiling brightly. "The name's Aramis. And you are?" The man paused a moment, the genial smile from his face fading faster than the daylight itself. Obviously, this person had something to hide...
"I think I'll just keep that to myself for now," he answered quietly.
Aramis took the hint. Still, desperate for company, he decided to at least keep the man around for a story or two, perhaps break night with him and go their separate ways by morning. A man who won't give his name has a shady past, definitely, and although Aramis knew he was putting himself in danger, the man probably didn't know that he'd been in his share of fights and knew his way with a knife pretty well. As the twilight gave way to full-on night, the two of them sucessfully started a campfire and sat at opposite sides of it, trading inquiries back and forth. Something struck Aramis about the way the man would answer questions with just the right amount of information, never giving away too much. But the questions so far had been tame, nothing of interest at all. Just general talk, something to pass the time. There was the matter of his nationality; that's what really tugged on his chain. He wanted desperately to know where this man was from, as he'd never seen features like his. The sharp, well-defined contours of his face, his thin lips, the exceptionally deep, dark eyes... These were features he'd never seen before. It actually bothered him...
"So, where are you from?" Aramis asked in an aloof manner, trying his best to hide the fact that he wanted to know the answer to this quite desperately.
The man, who had been idly poking at the fire with a branch, immediately stopped and locked eyes with Aramis, the heat from the flames contorting his face into an eerie grimace. "I come from... an island." His voice trailed off a bit as he completed the sentence. Aramis tried to hide his surprise. Apparently, he didn't do a good enough job of it. The man glared at him angrily, as if Aramis had just insulted a close friend or relative. He almost apologized.
"...I think I should get going," the man said, standing up quietly and crossing his arms over his chest. And without another word, not even a wave goodbye, he set off into the night. Aramis sat there, stupefied. He'd just met a Zodiac. They were practically eradicated during the Meenonite Genocide. Although he wanted very much to talk with the man more, hear what he had to say and what stories he had to tell, Aramis decided to let it slide. For now. After all, as rare as it is to come across a Zodiac, he just might do it again. Or, if not... he'd have to track this one down again.
Waiting until the man faded from his sight, Aramis put out the fire and lay down to sleep, trying to keep the mysterious Zodiac off of his mind.
 Bleeding Apocalypse · Sat Dec 10, 2005 @ 04:53pm · 0 Comments |
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