Topic: Farw Chlandra

NightRunner

Date: 2007-10-01 00:07 EST
Farw Chlandra

"Out of the crooked timber of humanity no straight thing can ever be made."
--Immanuel Kant





Day and night held difference above ground. It couldn't be seen but it could be felt -- one was warmer, one was colder. Down here underground, he learned that there is no day and there is no night. There is only the constant temperature and the constant hard surface of rock.
And constant shadow.

He remained down here with his mind roiling. He wanted to go back with Cinder, wanted to return to the Holding Houses but could not. not until he was sure he could get there on his own.
Not until he was sure he wouldn't be killed on-sight.

So there he remained with his thoughts. When he heard 'Nathan's footsteps, he found himself glad of her presence. He'd gotten used to being alone, had been used to it for a long time now but company was a welcome thing.
They spoke well into the night. he asked questions. She asked questions. He silently basked in her company and briefly let himself believe that maybe he wasn't alone.

The faith was still a shredded thing and fell easily under the glare of psychotic eyes.

--------------------

He was exhausted. The exhaustion had become familiar. The disorientation had become expected. Still, he despised it. He despised it and the Hunter far worse than most things.
He could deal with what was suggested to him -- it didn't mean he had to give up on anything, even a few humans.
It didn't mean he trusted but it didn't mean he gave up.

It always got dark before the light came.

Artyr's words from so many years ago came back to whisper in his mind as he lay on the stone ground. His mind had slowly cleared and was once again glad for not being entirely alone.
Johnathan and Renne spoke for another few minutes, trading a moment of happiness in the dark.
He fell asleep with dark thoughts dancing in his mind and a promise in what was left of his heart.

He'd do the right thing.

NightRunner

Date: 2007-10-01 00:22 EST
Farw Chlandra
Fallible

"Here's to all the soldiers who have ever died in vain
The insane locked within themselves
The homeless down on Main
To those who stand on empty shores
And spit against the wind
And those who wait forever
For ships that don't come in."
--Joe Diffie; Ships that Don't Come In






-He was walking through the bone-white ruins of the fortress again. He heard the wraiths howling around him and he felt the dank chill of a misty, steady rain that had started to fall a long time ago.
There was no logic to his unguided path this time -- only that it lay beyond the skull-paved road and across the dead wastelands. He walked without a destination. He walked and spoke mostly to himself. It was a strange thing to ask analytical questions in one's sleep but it was far better than the waking world.
He asked himself questions. He posed possible answers, both from his own mind and from the words he had learned from 'Nathan.

Too many things could be true. Too many could be false.

He stopped and stood in the steady rain for a long time without saying a word.
And the rain kept falling.-

He woke up reluctantly, groggily to the warmth of his furs and 'Nathan's scent. Thankful that it wasn't with a cold blast of a start, Renne lay in his fur-burrow a while longer. His mind was going many directions at once but at least it meandered.
At least it didn't race frantically through each thought.

Reaching out a bit, Renne found one of the small blocks of cheese 'Nathan had procured and began to nibble absently at it. It tasted quite good actually. Smooth texture, good and sharp in its flavour.

Small things.

Small things could do so much.
A pity humans could not see that.
He still couldn't abandon all hope.

After all, the candle was still lit.

Some candles never go out.

He kept nibbling absently at the cheese as his thoughts wandered. His thoughts meandered down paths he'd not explored in years. These paths were well-worn and familiar, all of them. Some were dark and he'd never walk them again Some were barren but bearable and a few, so very few, were brighter paths he wished he could have kept going down.
So many places could have been home.

A and brushed across his chest as his memories took down one path yet two at once.
It was a small thing now, the scar on his chest.

It wasn't so small when Silver had taken his heart out. It hadn't been small when Renne fought for survival and resorted to activating the stone that now all the world could see.
It was a small thing now in so many ways.
It happened so long ago and he had learned from his mistake. He survived and kept Silver's tear. He kept the medallion and lit a candle.
That candle still burned.

His mind wandered again.

The Hunter laughed quietly and whispered.
Renne responded, then shut him out at least for a while.

-He finished the job Silver started, didn't he?-
If he had meant to, the candle would have gone out.

Renne heard the Hunter laugh but didn't respond to it.
He laid on the earth and let himself continue thinking. He thought of the past, the present and the unknown future. He thought of the scar that echoed one on a human as fallible as he.
He thought of lessons both hollow and true.
He thought of scars borne of survival, bravery and endurance. Of scars that marked errors, failures and lessons learned from those mistakes.

He didn't think about the blue that stained the ground beneath him.

NightRunner

Date: 2007-10-02 03:57 EST
Farw Chlandra
Every Light in the House is On

"Even the lost can find their way back home if you leave the light on."






Renne was up in the dark and restless. Sleep was either elusive or a thing to avoid altogether again and besides, his thoughts wouldn't slow down.

Under his arm, he carried his spyglass and journal. His candle was kept safe in his pocket where nothing in the world could touch it. Where nothing in the world could force the flame to go out. The last thing he needed was a candle to go out when so few were to be found. Still, a few were better than none at all.
He should know.
He's been in the dark without a candle.

It was an odd mood that found him this time as his thoughts wandered. Renne kept hearing Cinder's voice whisper in his head. He kept hearing Harold's voice echo from somewhere afar. He thought he heard Archie's laughter carrying across unfelt winds. Somewhere, he felt a familiar twinge of temptation.
And this time, he gave into it, no matter how crazy it may have made him seem.

He started a game of Truth or Dare with himself.

It was no doubt a silly thing to do by oneself -- this game meant for a group, or better yet a merry multitude. Still, it kept his mind focused and in many ways, he could think on things without so much a devastating collapse into quiet tears or risking the wild dementia.
"...Learn to just be..."

It was hard to listen to voices that had become so distant. It was hard to follow words that had in many ways, become just words. He had learned long ago that his People's laws, many of them, no longer applied. But some -- the core -- he couldn't give them up.
They were too much a part of who he was.
So he listened, holding onto the voices and whispers.

He held onto the laughter.

He held onto the laughter as the game of Truth or Dare with himself became a merrier game with Johnathan and even Cinder. He was an unexpected but dearly welcome addition to the moment.
He was a welcome addition in the dark of the underground.
If you look south, you'll see a glow

The game went from halting curiosity and an exchange of small gifts to sillier things -- Renne acting like a monkey, 'Nathan singing possibly-dirty little songs about turtles.
It was the laughter that kept the Hunter at bay that night.
So he held onto his candle and the laughter.

*Every light in the house is on
The backyard is bright as the crack of dawn

~<>~

*Every Light in the House is On; Trace Adkins