[FIC] Last of the Gods - Chapter 3
I expect the next few chapters to come along rather quickly. I'm really excited about them.
Chapter 3
Horatio and Marisol had travelled a good fifty miles before calling it a day. Having found a small clearing deemed secluded and safe enough by Horatio, they opted to camp for the night. In the daylight they had left, Marisol decided to make herself a meal.
She pulled open her bag. By an unspoken rule, Marisol carried all the life-essentials. They were few, mostly food and an extra blanket, but if she and Horatio were ever separated, she would have what she needed to survive. Horatio carried everything heavier; he didn’t need the food.
“Bread,” Marisol spoke out, in any direction. She couldn’t usually count on him for conversations starters.
“Is there nothing else?” she called out. Butter melted, she hadn’t expected any. Cheese became equally unpleasant. They must have run out of meat.
“If there’s nothing else in the bag…” Horatio’s voice flowed into her ear from somewhere behind her. “Sorry.”
Marisol smiled. “Bread’s fine, Horatio.” At least we have water to go with it.
No answer. Horatio wasn’t much for dinner conversation.
*
No sooner had he murmured his response, than he paused. Something had entered his peripheral mind.
Horatio took a few steps to the left to get a better reading. Another Guard was headed past them, likely without a Seer. He was moving too quickly.
Horatio frowned. Business.
He tapped his fingers against a tree trunk, waiting for the other one to get within hearing range. In Human terms, he was still at least half a mile away. There was no sound except for Marisol’s rhythmic chewing.
A few more seconds. Without moving, he called out.
’Who’s there?’
He didn’t bother with the niceties. Those on official tasks never returned the favour.
’Guild business’ came the answer, in his mind, like a whisper.
’I know’ Horatio didn’t play their games.
Closer, closer…
Horatio stepped back towards Marisol. If they were coming to him, that was even worse.
“Horatio.”
Marisol stopped eating and spun around. Horatio turned calmly; he recognized that voice.
“Hello, Rick.”
“Hello,” echoed Marisol.
Horatio moved towards. Without stopping, he leaned over and whispered, “It’s alright,” into the Seer’s ear. She nodded.
*
Standing under the canopy of the dark, sometimes misshapen trees, out of hearing range of the clearing, Horatio rested his hands nonchalantly on his hips.
“You haven’t come by in a while, Rick. I was starting to miss you,” he grinned, one sharp canine flashing briefly.
Rick returned the grin, warily. He was of a more normal breed of Guard than Horatio; dark hair, dark eyes to match their uniforms. He blended in much more easily.
“My deepest apologies,” he intoned.
There was a guarded silence. Horatio’s curiosity was piqued.
“Why’d you stop?”
“You called me.”
Horatio shook his head. “You’re all business, Rick. What’s this about?”
Rick frowned, but didn’t answer. Horatio shifted.
’What’s the Guild doing?’
*
Marisol watched them from where she had been eating. There was a long, hard silence, but that didn’t mean they were talking.
Rick usually meant bad news, according to Horatio. Instead of travelling with a Seer, he worked up close with the Guild itself. Horatio didn’t trust any of them. Few travelling Guards did.
Even though that’s where they’d all started.
Whatever Guild Horatio held such enmity for couldn’t possibly be the one she knew. She’d been raised there, albeit by Seers. What she remembered of her childhood within the Guild’s Sacred City had been intense, but not bad at all. Before that, she couldn’t remember. She’d been too young.
Her attempts to direct her questions towards Horatio’s childhood with the Guild were always met with silence, and a sort of sadness in his eyes. It almost seemed as though he hadn’t had one.
What kind of people did he know?
*
“Another one is gone,” Rick said, finally. “I’m going to…collect what’s left.”
Horatio’s eyes flicked briefly to Marisol. How did it happen? They had only one duty-
“No.”
Horatio snapped back. “What?”
Rick’s face darkened. “It’s one of ours.”
Horatio ground his teeth. Not again. Another injury, another…disappearance.
“And her?” he managed.
Rick looked away. “That’s…where I’m going now.”
Horatio forced his composure into place, but the restlessness was already sinking in. “You can’t, Rick.” It was almost a whisper.
“I can’t refuse. I’m under orders-“
“You can’t.” Horatio was angry now. He tapped his foot. “Why, Rick? Why her too?”
“She can’t just go home, Horatio.” Rick tried to convince himself. He’d left the City, determined not to fail.
“This isn’t her fault, Rick.” Horatio’s eyes pleaded with the other Guard. At the same time, he looked ready to attack. There was a steely silence.
“You can’t kill her.”
Rick knew that Horatio wouldn’t let him do it. If he ran, Horatio would chase him down. Against all sanity. But Rick couldn’t say no, for both their sakes.
“What else am I supposed to do, Horatio?”
The question had been meant rhetorically, but Horatio lifted his head. He was considering it.
“I’ll take care of her,” he said, softly.
“What? You can’t do that-“
“I can, and I will.” His icy gaze caught Rick’s. “Are you going to stop me? I will not let her life go to waste. Where is she?”
It was Rick’s turn to think.
“She’s in a small town…about 300 miles north of here. It’s called Marshall, right along the main Western trade route.”
Horatio nodded, but Rick couldn’t fold completely.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he continued, withdrawing two pouches from his pack. “I have the speed advantage, but I have two stops to make along the way.” He shook the pouches gently; the clang of coins could be heard inside. “If you can get there first…”
Horatio was nodding fervently. He understood the challenge.
Rick stepped backwards, preparing to leave.
“Her name is Natalia Boa Vista.”
He was gone.
*
Marisol anticipated the move, and was already packing when Horatio made his way back to her. She was worried.
“What’s happening? Where are we going? Back to the city?”
Alerted by the tremor in her voice, Horatio seemed to come back to the present. He smiled, as best he could.
“No, no. We’re going north. Did you have enough to eat?”
Marisol swung her pack over her shoulder.
“I’m fine if you are.”
D-M
Chapter 3
Horatio and Marisol had travelled a good fifty miles before calling it a day. Having found a small clearing deemed secluded and safe enough by Horatio, they opted to camp for the night. In the daylight they had left, Marisol decided to make herself a meal.
She pulled open her bag. By an unspoken rule, Marisol carried all the life-essentials. They were few, mostly food and an extra blanket, but if she and Horatio were ever separated, she would have what she needed to survive. Horatio carried everything heavier; he didn’t need the food.
“Bread,” Marisol spoke out, in any direction. She couldn’t usually count on him for conversations starters.
“Is there nothing else?” she called out. Butter melted, she hadn’t expected any. Cheese became equally unpleasant. They must have run out of meat.
“If there’s nothing else in the bag…” Horatio’s voice flowed into her ear from somewhere behind her. “Sorry.”
Marisol smiled. “Bread’s fine, Horatio.” At least we have water to go with it.
No answer. Horatio wasn’t much for dinner conversation.
*
No sooner had he murmured his response, than he paused. Something had entered his peripheral mind.
Horatio took a few steps to the left to get a better reading. Another Guard was headed past them, likely without a Seer. He was moving too quickly.
Horatio frowned. Business.
He tapped his fingers against a tree trunk, waiting for the other one to get within hearing range. In Human terms, he was still at least half a mile away. There was no sound except for Marisol’s rhythmic chewing.
A few more seconds. Without moving, he called out.
’Who’s there?’
He didn’t bother with the niceties. Those on official tasks never returned the favour.
’Guild business’ came the answer, in his mind, like a whisper.
’I know’ Horatio didn’t play their games.
Closer, closer…
Horatio stepped back towards Marisol. If they were coming to him, that was even worse.
“Horatio.”
Marisol stopped eating and spun around. Horatio turned calmly; he recognized that voice.
“Hello, Rick.”
“Hello,” echoed Marisol.
Horatio moved towards. Without stopping, he leaned over and whispered, “It’s alright,” into the Seer’s ear. She nodded.
*
Standing under the canopy of the dark, sometimes misshapen trees, out of hearing range of the clearing, Horatio rested his hands nonchalantly on his hips.
“You haven’t come by in a while, Rick. I was starting to miss you,” he grinned, one sharp canine flashing briefly.
Rick returned the grin, warily. He was of a more normal breed of Guard than Horatio; dark hair, dark eyes to match their uniforms. He blended in much more easily.
“My deepest apologies,” he intoned.
There was a guarded silence. Horatio’s curiosity was piqued.
“Why’d you stop?”
“You called me.”
Horatio shook his head. “You’re all business, Rick. What’s this about?”
Rick frowned, but didn’t answer. Horatio shifted.
’What’s the Guild doing?’
*
Marisol watched them from where she had been eating. There was a long, hard silence, but that didn’t mean they were talking.
Rick usually meant bad news, according to Horatio. Instead of travelling with a Seer, he worked up close with the Guild itself. Horatio didn’t trust any of them. Few travelling Guards did.
Even though that’s where they’d all started.
Whatever Guild Horatio held such enmity for couldn’t possibly be the one she knew. She’d been raised there, albeit by Seers. What she remembered of her childhood within the Guild’s Sacred City had been intense, but not bad at all. Before that, she couldn’t remember. She’d been too young.
Her attempts to direct her questions towards Horatio’s childhood with the Guild were always met with silence, and a sort of sadness in his eyes. It almost seemed as though he hadn’t had one.
What kind of people did he know?
*
“Another one is gone,” Rick said, finally. “I’m going to…collect what’s left.”
Horatio’s eyes flicked briefly to Marisol. How did it happen? They had only one duty-
“No.”
Horatio snapped back. “What?”
Rick’s face darkened. “It’s one of ours.”
Horatio ground his teeth. Not again. Another injury, another…disappearance.
“And her?” he managed.
Rick looked away. “That’s…where I’m going now.”
Horatio forced his composure into place, but the restlessness was already sinking in. “You can’t, Rick.” It was almost a whisper.
“I can’t refuse. I’m under orders-“
“You can’t.” Horatio was angry now. He tapped his foot. “Why, Rick? Why her too?”
“She can’t just go home, Horatio.” Rick tried to convince himself. He’d left the City, determined not to fail.
“This isn’t her fault, Rick.” Horatio’s eyes pleaded with the other Guard. At the same time, he looked ready to attack. There was a steely silence.
“You can’t kill her.”
Rick knew that Horatio wouldn’t let him do it. If he ran, Horatio would chase him down. Against all sanity. But Rick couldn’t say no, for both their sakes.
“What else am I supposed to do, Horatio?”
The question had been meant rhetorically, but Horatio lifted his head. He was considering it.
“I’ll take care of her,” he said, softly.
“What? You can’t do that-“
“I can, and I will.” His icy gaze caught Rick’s. “Are you going to stop me? I will not let her life go to waste. Where is she?”
It was Rick’s turn to think.
“She’s in a small town…about 300 miles north of here. It’s called Marshall, right along the main Western trade route.”
Horatio nodded, but Rick couldn’t fold completely.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he continued, withdrawing two pouches from his pack. “I have the speed advantage, but I have two stops to make along the way.” He shook the pouches gently; the clang of coins could be heard inside. “If you can get there first…”
Horatio was nodding fervently. He understood the challenge.
Rick stepped backwards, preparing to leave.
“Her name is Natalia Boa Vista.”
He was gone.
*
Marisol anticipated the move, and was already packing when Horatio made his way back to her. She was worried.
“What’s happening? Where are we going? Back to the city?”
Alerted by the tremor in her voice, Horatio seemed to come back to the present. He smiled, as best he could.
“No, no. We’re going north. Did you have enough to eat?”
Marisol swung her pack over her shoulder.
“I’m fine if you are.”
D-M