A Depression

[Gildon de Vymont]

"I am Gildon's broken virtues."


A mountaintop breeze drifted torwards Gildon's direction, his scarf moving ahead and behind him constantly like a scurrying snake trying to suffocate the man. Gildon had set up camp here, where the conditions were harsh and the livestock was lacking. He is a counterpart of his own self; his dull eye looking at down the land below.. at nothing.. at his future itself.

There had been nothing existing to him at this time. It was only him, the creatures that share this land with him, and the white surronding him. He was a soldier and a survivor; an animal tamer and a savenger. But no happiness struck on his pale face...

Jorokar.. Ayla. Ayame. Memories of them past through his now busy mind, memories where Time and Death did not exist.. where they would fight side by side and fall side by side.. everything was.. meloncholy in a sort of way there.

The man sighed; there would be no way he could go back there now.. he has become a hermit and nothing more. He depressingly stood up and dropped his blanket on the rough mountain terrain.. and tried to rest his eyes for a bit.


Gildon could feel a sting on the back of his head..