The Charred House
Posted: Fri Aug 07, 2009 2:26 am
Artimer walked calmly to the house that dusk, patiently waiting to see the smiling face of his wife. He saw a man chopping an Eldan oak, as he walked home.
"Careful there.. Cutting Eldan Oaks is bad luck.." He chuckled lightly at the comment, shaking his head at his superstitions. His green robe did not hinder his walk for the day, a warm breeze in Bras pushed it slowly behind him. Town was empty, but he went to his depot and tossed a silver coin. Money once seemed so important, but at this point he just saw it as a tool, a resource.
He left Eliza's and walked to his house, holding the key to his door, before something felt suddenly wrong. The house was barren on the outside. Barren, and blackened. The stones where there, but there was a stump, the color of coal, where an apple tree once stood with a nest of fairies in it. And the grapevines that once grew outside his house were now withered and black. It was hard to notice at first, but as he approached to the door, it became apparent that the walls themselves had some sort of smoke damage.
He shoved the key into the door, but it didn't really seem required as he opened it. The house's insides were ash. All of it, ash. The bed. The table. The chairs. The writings and plans and designs he drew were gone. The medical herbs, and all the clutter was gone. As was the poor cat, who most likely was locked inside when the fire spread. But none of this scared him. Artimer started biting his lower lip. He closed the door, not bothering to step in, not looking about. It was all ash. All gone. He locked it behind him, out of pure habit. He almost managed a chuckle, but it turned into more of a sob.
"Was Elizabeth home? How long was that cat alive, burning and flaming within that house? What -point- was there to this? To burn a house, while the owner was gone and could not defend it? Is this even -real-?" He thought to himself. He stumbled to the rock next to where the apple tree used to grow.
"Who did this? The temple seemed to have had a hand if I heard right.. yes.. and so did those damn pirates. Wasn't Cromwell -paying- the pirates? What in the world was happening!? Where is Elizabeth!?" He murmered softly to himself, tears begining to flow down his cheeks.
"I.. Don't understand. A holy messenger once said that I had won their favor. Yet this happened? How.. how did this happen? Why didn't.. Athian.. or Carinia.. or Mico.. or the town or the guard or anyone help!?" His mind raced faster, as his body began to shake.
His hand still clenched the key. He rubbed it, slowly over his skin.
"If.. if this is gone, there is no point. Elizabeth.. Gone. My dreams of a bigger home.. destroyed." He eyed the points and jagged parts of the key, and his mind began to play.
"I.. I can bring them back.. Just like I did before.. like.." He shoved his key into a bag, and shook his head. "No. Not again. She wouldn't have it."
He shuddered visibly, and stood. He stared at the ground, wanting answers. He knew who he had to talk to.
"Elizabeth may have escaped. But they could have killed her. They put her in danger. They killed the cat, most likely. How many others got hurt? What was the point?
There wasn't one. And that.. is.." He shook his head, and stepped off. His face set coldly, and wet from tears. He placed the key in his depot, lifted up a bag, and walked off to find answers and perhaps a bit more as he stepped out of the east gate, green robe still flowing in a gentle Bras breeze at dusk.
"Careful there.. Cutting Eldan Oaks is bad luck.." He chuckled lightly at the comment, shaking his head at his superstitions. His green robe did not hinder his walk for the day, a warm breeze in Bras pushed it slowly behind him. Town was empty, but he went to his depot and tossed a silver coin. Money once seemed so important, but at this point he just saw it as a tool, a resource.
He left Eliza's and walked to his house, holding the key to his door, before something felt suddenly wrong. The house was barren on the outside. Barren, and blackened. The stones where there, but there was a stump, the color of coal, where an apple tree once stood with a nest of fairies in it. And the grapevines that once grew outside his house were now withered and black. It was hard to notice at first, but as he approached to the door, it became apparent that the walls themselves had some sort of smoke damage.
He shoved the key into the door, but it didn't really seem required as he opened it. The house's insides were ash. All of it, ash. The bed. The table. The chairs. The writings and plans and designs he drew were gone. The medical herbs, and all the clutter was gone. As was the poor cat, who most likely was locked inside when the fire spread. But none of this scared him. Artimer started biting his lower lip. He closed the door, not bothering to step in, not looking about. It was all ash. All gone. He locked it behind him, out of pure habit. He almost managed a chuckle, but it turned into more of a sob.
"Was Elizabeth home? How long was that cat alive, burning and flaming within that house? What -point- was there to this? To burn a house, while the owner was gone and could not defend it? Is this even -real-?" He thought to himself. He stumbled to the rock next to where the apple tree used to grow.
"Who did this? The temple seemed to have had a hand if I heard right.. yes.. and so did those damn pirates. Wasn't Cromwell -paying- the pirates? What in the world was happening!? Where is Elizabeth!?" He murmered softly to himself, tears begining to flow down his cheeks.
"I.. Don't understand. A holy messenger once said that I had won their favor. Yet this happened? How.. how did this happen? Why didn't.. Athian.. or Carinia.. or Mico.. or the town or the guard or anyone help!?" His mind raced faster, as his body began to shake.
His hand still clenched the key. He rubbed it, slowly over his skin.
"If.. if this is gone, there is no point. Elizabeth.. Gone. My dreams of a bigger home.. destroyed." He eyed the points and jagged parts of the key, and his mind began to play.
"I.. I can bring them back.. Just like I did before.. like.." He shoved his key into a bag, and shook his head. "No. Not again. She wouldn't have it."
He shuddered visibly, and stood. He stared at the ground, wanting answers. He knew who he had to talk to.
"Elizabeth may have escaped. But they could have killed her. They put her in danger. They killed the cat, most likely. How many others got hurt? What was the point?
There wasn't one. And that.. is.." He shook his head, and stepped off. His face set coldly, and wet from tears. He placed the key in his depot, lifted up a bag, and walked off to find answers and perhaps a bit more as he stepped out of the east gate, green robe still flowing in a gentle Bras breeze at dusk.