☆ Dawn ☆
What: A little glimpse into what happened afterward.
Where: Organization space. Home.
When: A few months later.
Why: Just because you forget something doesn't mean it's gone.
The rain was more of a fine, cool mist than anything else. Riku had to stop every few minutes to wipe his glasses. If he had known that the weather was going to be like this, he would have requested to have them magicked to repel moisture before he left. Too late now.
It was just another problem on top of many. The muscles in his arms were burning, weakened by long fatigue. It took effort to haul himself another foot up the cliff face.
Mountains. Mountains he knew, ironically enough. The Land of the Dragons was as cold and unforgiving as he remembered. The spring thawed the passes somewhat, but for what it lacked in snow it made up with rain and fog and a slow, creeping wind that slipped long fingers into his clothing. All of the rocks and tiny patches of dark soil were slick and more than once he'd almost fallen. He tested security rope at least once every few minutes.
His shoulders twinged painfully and one of the sharp, jutting edges cut into his side before he could shimmy onto the narrow ledge. Two feet wide, maybe less. It would have to do. He knew there was a recess in the sheer wall some twenty feet west of where he was. The ledge was supposed to remain at a more or less constant width the entire way.
It had been a long time since he'd tackled this particular endurance course. Not since he was fourteen, weeks away from graduating from the training program. He'd done it in half the time. The broken arm he'd incurred during the descent had been easily mended. Students were only prohibited from using magic on the way up.
Riku couldn't really be sure if it had been quite this wet the first time, or tiring, or isolated. He didn't doubt he could do it, no. He knew how much farther the target summit was. He knew the path. He had enough supplies and equipment. It was just that it was colder, in a way.
Emptier, if he had to really search for the right word. For some reason, he had never noticed how empty it was before. When he paused to look, gloved fingers rubbing at his glasses so that it was possible to look at all, there was a world of grey before his eyes, featureless and vague, with great hulking shadows far off in the distance that seemed to waver in and out of sight. The other peaks, some higher and sharper, others short and stunted. If he let his mind wander, he could almost imagine them as people, the outlines of people, lost somewhere in the placid fog.
"Wasting time," Riku said to the air, the white cloud of his breath fading immediately in the vapor. "Wasting time again."
His painfully careful movements started again, scooting him along one delicate inch at a time. The slowness bothered him; not from worry, because what could they do? This was a refresher, according to his examiners. A reassurance that his abilities were not deteriorating. If they were, other, perhaps more costly measures would have to be taken. A resource had to be preserved.
Riku had no qualms about their "measures." He'd seen enough, experienced enough. His troubles ran a little deeper. To them, he was just slower, more distracted. To Axel he was probably bothersome. More than once Riku had thought of asking him if his new superior was going to ask for another "assistant", one that was not seeing people in a fog and wondering, constantly, compulsively, why everything felt so empty.
The words never came, the questions were never asked. It was already difficult enough being around Axel. It was more than just how confusing and infuriating the man could be. It was just...it was strange.
Empty. Lonely.
"Lonely," Riku said, this time to the tiny, dark space that was the rest point.
A glorified hole, carved out of the mountain by some long-ago detonation. It was the only respite he would be given. He should have been here an hour ago, he knew. Setting up his tiny camp before nightfall would take some doing.
But he did it. Riku knew the motions by heart, had had them drilled into him a long time ago. Survival had always been a key skill. A resource had to do everything possible to preserve itself. Replacing it was a drain on other, less self-reliant resources. So you had to survive and endure, because it was your duty to preserve your own well being.
"A team could climb the mountain faster."
It'd be less empty that way.
Riku frowned, rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, and latched shut the thermaplastic sheet over the entrance of the hole. It would help keep him alive through the long darkness of the night. He was settled within minutes, the straps on his clothing and shoes loosened to ease circulation, his lantern placed next to him. The soft amber glow it produced didn't reach the corners of the tiny space.
It did reach into his dreams. The shapes he saw didn't make any sense, the sounds he heard even less so. But the colors were sharp and clear, vibrant from memory and not just vague impressions. So many warm hues, gold and orange and red. The part of his mind that was awake and aware new the logical reason was the cold. He wanted to be warm, so his dreams gave him that.
What was strange and what he couldn't quite grasp was how much he wanted it. His dreamself tried to reach with hands he couldn't feel and tried to speak with words that made no sound. A distorted glass wall, full of fog, came down between him and what he was looking for.
Strange.
So strange.
If only he could see, then maybe-
It was when Riku reached for his glasses to wipe them that he woke, the shrill chime of his wrist alarm filling the hole. His dreams scattered on a wave of alert consciousness. He was packed and on his way out again within minutes. It was an hour before the dawn. Just enough time to reach his goal.
The mist had vanished sometime during the night. The great curve of the sky was startlingly, implausibly clear. The very atmosphere of the world appeared to have been removed by some divine hand that had come down and wiped it clean, intent on pulling back the curtain that separated the land from the stars.
For a long time, Riku forgot himself. He forgot that he needed to secure his security rope. He forgot that staying still in the open robbed him of body heat. He forgot the reprisals he would receive if he did not make his mark on time.
He forgot, and he remembered. In those seconds-hours, days, weeks, months, a year-he remembered and he saw again, because the fog was gone and they were all there once more. The shadows formed their faces, the sounds their words, the colors their world.
He'd found them, he'd found them, and the terrible loneliness dwindled and disappeared as if it had never been.
Riku was an hour late to the goal marker. When he returned to the training facility, his punishment was there waiting for him. An explanation was demanded for why his performance had been so miserably inadequate.
He had none. There was a strange fog-so strange-in his mind, separating him from that single hour.
All he knew for certain was that he had stayed there on the mountain and watched the coming of the dawn.
Where: Organization space. Home.
When: A few months later.
Why: Just because you forget something doesn't mean it's gone.
The rain was more of a fine, cool mist than anything else. Riku had to stop every few minutes to wipe his glasses. If he had known that the weather was going to be like this, he would have requested to have them magicked to repel moisture before he left. Too late now.
It was just another problem on top of many. The muscles in his arms were burning, weakened by long fatigue. It took effort to haul himself another foot up the cliff face.
Mountains. Mountains he knew, ironically enough. The Land of the Dragons was as cold and unforgiving as he remembered. The spring thawed the passes somewhat, but for what it lacked in snow it made up with rain and fog and a slow, creeping wind that slipped long fingers into his clothing. All of the rocks and tiny patches of dark soil were slick and more than once he'd almost fallen. He tested security rope at least once every few minutes.
His shoulders twinged painfully and one of the sharp, jutting edges cut into his side before he could shimmy onto the narrow ledge. Two feet wide, maybe less. It would have to do. He knew there was a recess in the sheer wall some twenty feet west of where he was. The ledge was supposed to remain at a more or less constant width the entire way.
It had been a long time since he'd tackled this particular endurance course. Not since he was fourteen, weeks away from graduating from the training program. He'd done it in half the time. The broken arm he'd incurred during the descent had been easily mended. Students were only prohibited from using magic on the way up.
Riku couldn't really be sure if it had been quite this wet the first time, or tiring, or isolated. He didn't doubt he could do it, no. He knew how much farther the target summit was. He knew the path. He had enough supplies and equipment. It was just that it was colder, in a way.
Emptier, if he had to really search for the right word. For some reason, he had never noticed how empty it was before. When he paused to look, gloved fingers rubbing at his glasses so that it was possible to look at all, there was a world of grey before his eyes, featureless and vague, with great hulking shadows far off in the distance that seemed to waver in and out of sight. The other peaks, some higher and sharper, others short and stunted. If he let his mind wander, he could almost imagine them as people, the outlines of people, lost somewhere in the placid fog.
"Wasting time," Riku said to the air, the white cloud of his breath fading immediately in the vapor. "Wasting time again."
His painfully careful movements started again, scooting him along one delicate inch at a time. The slowness bothered him; not from worry, because what could they do? This was a refresher, according to his examiners. A reassurance that his abilities were not deteriorating. If they were, other, perhaps more costly measures would have to be taken. A resource had to be preserved.
Riku had no qualms about their "measures." He'd seen enough, experienced enough. His troubles ran a little deeper. To them, he was just slower, more distracted. To Axel he was probably bothersome. More than once Riku had thought of asking him if his new superior was going to ask for another "assistant", one that was not seeing people in a fog and wondering, constantly, compulsively, why everything felt so empty.
The words never came, the questions were never asked. It was already difficult enough being around Axel. It was more than just how confusing and infuriating the man could be. It was just...it was strange.
Empty. Lonely.
"Lonely," Riku said, this time to the tiny, dark space that was the rest point.
A glorified hole, carved out of the mountain by some long-ago detonation. It was the only respite he would be given. He should have been here an hour ago, he knew. Setting up his tiny camp before nightfall would take some doing.
But he did it. Riku knew the motions by heart, had had them drilled into him a long time ago. Survival had always been a key skill. A resource had to do everything possible to preserve itself. Replacing it was a drain on other, less self-reliant resources. So you had to survive and endure, because it was your duty to preserve your own well being.
"A team could climb the mountain faster."
It'd be less empty that way.
Riku frowned, rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, and latched shut the thermaplastic sheet over the entrance of the hole. It would help keep him alive through the long darkness of the night. He was settled within minutes, the straps on his clothing and shoes loosened to ease circulation, his lantern placed next to him. The soft amber glow it produced didn't reach the corners of the tiny space.
It did reach into his dreams. The shapes he saw didn't make any sense, the sounds he heard even less so. But the colors were sharp and clear, vibrant from memory and not just vague impressions. So many warm hues, gold and orange and red. The part of his mind that was awake and aware new the logical reason was the cold. He wanted to be warm, so his dreams gave him that.
What was strange and what he couldn't quite grasp was how much he wanted it. His dreamself tried to reach with hands he couldn't feel and tried to speak with words that made no sound. A distorted glass wall, full of fog, came down between him and what he was looking for.
Strange.
So strange.
If only he could see, then maybe-
It was when Riku reached for his glasses to wipe them that he woke, the shrill chime of his wrist alarm filling the hole. His dreams scattered on a wave of alert consciousness. He was packed and on his way out again within minutes. It was an hour before the dawn. Just enough time to reach his goal.
The mist had vanished sometime during the night. The great curve of the sky was startlingly, implausibly clear. The very atmosphere of the world appeared to have been removed by some divine hand that had come down and wiped it clean, intent on pulling back the curtain that separated the land from the stars.
For a long time, Riku forgot himself. He forgot that he needed to secure his security rope. He forgot that staying still in the open robbed him of body heat. He forgot the reprisals he would receive if he did not make his mark on time.
He forgot, and he remembered. In those seconds-hours, days, weeks, months, a year-he remembered and he saw again, because the fog was gone and they were all there once more. The shadows formed their faces, the sounds their words, the colors their world.
He'd found them, he'd found them, and the terrible loneliness dwindled and disappeared as if it had never been.
Riku was an hour late to the goal marker. When he returned to the training facility, his punishment was there waiting for him. An explanation was demanded for why his performance had been so miserably inadequate.
He had none. There was a strange fog-so strange-in his mind, separating him from that single hour.
All he knew for certain was that he had stayed there on the mountain and watched the coming of the dawn.