Passage Ch.4 Haplo's Choice
Summary: Life is a journey with snapshots kept in your memories
Takes place right after Fire Sea
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In the dimly lit sky of The Nexus there was no sun, no stars, and no moons, but if one looked closely there was a small black hole. The hole rippled, the surrounding air distorted and a large ship squeezed out. The inhabitants of the Labyrinth, knowing that this was their Lord’s doing took notice- their survival instincts wouldn’t let them not take notice- but went on with their work.
Alfred woke with a start as something warm and wet touched his cheek. Hot air blew against his face and he instinctively raised an arm to ward it off. His fingers encountered warmth and soft fur. He opened his eyes and the dog ‘whuffed’ softly. He was lying on the floor of Haplo’s ship, and beyond the dog he could see Haplo himself slumped down against the wall.
The air was clean and cool, he noticed, his magic no longer straining to keep him alive, although he still ached from exhaustion and healing bruises. The air didn’t sigh from the moans of the dead, only the creaking of wooden boards and ropes. There were no longer in Aberrach. He shakily rose to his feet and made to move forward, only to trip over the dog. He fell with a loud thud and he cringed, glancing at Haplo. His form was still, although whether he was still asleep, Alfred couldn’t tell. The dog glared at him reproachfully from the side and Alfred tried to look apologetic. Apparently it worked, since the animal sat, looking exasperated, but tolerant.
Alfred slowly rose to his feet once more, although he wondered if it was even worth the effort; he would likely end up back on the floor again sometime soon. He glanced warily at Haplo again. The Patryn’s face was pale but still, his chest moving smoothly as he breathed. Haplo had warned him to leave while he was still asleep. He was… letting him go? Alfred’s survival instincts were clamoring at him to turn and climb the ladder up to the deck, but- where would he go? He had found his people, what they had been reduced to. They were pathetic; as pathetic as himself.
According to Haplo there were no Sartan on Pryan. Likely they and the Sartan on Chelestrea had met with the same fate as the ones on Arianus. Would he simply wander aimlessly again? In some ways Alfred felt that he had drifted in the winds since he had been born. Here he was again; no real reason to live and without the courage to die.
A warm tongue lapped at his hand and Alfred started before hesitantly stroking an ear. The dog looked up with warm brown eyes, smiling in a dog-like fashion. “I should go,” Alfred murmured to him. Slowly he turned, until he faced a simple metal ladder. He hoped it wasn’t slippery. With an air of inevitability about him he stepped forward, step by heavy step getting closer until one foot twisted unexpectedly, making him fall against the ladder. He clung there for a moment, gathering his feet underneath him. He glanced back; Haplo was still crumpled against the wall and Dog was watching, amused.
He turned back to the ladder and slowly placed one foot and then another up, climbing with the care most men would save for a sheer cliff. Suddenly something tugged on his pants leg, nearly causing him to fall. Straining to look down, Alfred caught sight of the dog with his pants in his mouth. When he saw that he had caught Alfred’s attention he let go and whined softly. “N-no. I don’t have any treats,” Alfred stammered. The dog took issue with this and grabbed hold again, tugging more insistently. “P-please don’t. I’m trying to leave,” Alfred tried to say, but his hand slipped and he came tumbling down again.
Certain that this time Haplo would surely wake he scrambled to get back up, his legs twisting and flailing as he lunged for the ladder. His face made its acquaintance with the floor. Huddled on the floor Alfred waited for harsh words or hands to pain him. Silence. The dog nudged him with his nose. Puzzled, Alfred snuck a glance over to the other wall again. No movement. No change in Haplo’s posture or expression. Suddenly afraid he looked carefully at the dog. Haplo had been exhausted and injured, but surely if he was in serious danger the dog would show it. He was licked for his troubles. Puzzled, he shuffled forward on his hands and knees. Closer he could see the dark stain on Haplo’s pants and the sticky dried blood on the floor. Slowly his hand reached forward to touch and behind him the dog growled. He froze. The dog’s claws scraped softly on the wood as he padded around to look at him. His hand was licked again and the dog settled down on the floor, as if to say, ‘I am watching you.’ Carefully Alfred inched his hand forward, watching carefully for the reaction. The dog kept watch, but did not move.
His fingers brushed the pants, stiff with dried blood. He saw the arrowhead discarded on the floor with some relief. Warily his thumb brushed over where it had entered the thigh. Dried blood flaked off, but Alfred could see no evidence of the wound. A glance at Haplo’s chest showed that it was still slowly moving up and down. Relieved, he sat back. Perhaps Haplo was simply exhausted, on Aberrach he had been near death both literally and figuratively.
Haplo was alive. His phantasm wasn’t twisting and writhing about his body, his chest moved softly with his breath, and his face- he was frowning. In the mausoleum the Sartan all looked so peaceful and radiant with beauty. Not Haplo. Even in his sleep he looked worn and angry. He was not unhandsome; his features strong, his body kept scarless by his magic, yet looking on his face Alfred could trace invisible scars etched deep into the skin. “My people put those there,” he whispered.
A few strands of hair were swept over Haplo’s face and he gently brushed them away. His skin was warm, smeared with dirt but still- alive. “He’s alive because of me, and I am alive because of him,” Alfred realized. Perhaps one day that wouldn’t be surprising, it would be taken for granted that they would risk their lives for each other. Alfred could almost see it; traveling to Chelestrea together, speaking with the mensch, inspecting the traces that the Sartans had left behind, even- even walking together through an empty mausoleum. Two pairs of footsteps echoing off the vast walls would be far less lonely than just one. A furry head nudging insistently at his arm broke his thoughts. Alfred petted the dog obligingly, “Thank you, I was getting carried away, wasn’t I?”
Much calmer now, Alfred once again rose to his feet. He would go through Death’s Gate alone once more, although he didn’t know what he would find beyond it.
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There was another loud thud from up above and Haplo wearily opened his eyes. The dog was sitting in front of him and he spoke to it, “It’s a miracle he hasn’t broken his neck yet.” The Sartan was leaving, on his way to Death’s Gate and his freedom. Something crashed and there was a yelp. Well, he would be on his way if he could get across the ship’s deck. He should be stopping him and yet… he lifted his hand up to touch where Alfred had brushed against his face. His fingers had been warm and alive, his clumsiness exasperating but not dogged by the sighing moans of phantasms caged to their mortal corpses. Haplo had seen and felt agony in the Labyrinth but that- living death on Alberach he would not wish on his own people, and he grudgingly admitted to himself that would not wish it on Alfred either. He couldn’t tell his Lord of the practice. “But how can I lie to him?” he asked himself.
There were no more noises from above and Haplo stiffly rose to his feet. He steered the ship closer to the ground and climbed up the steel ladder to the deck, then went down the rope ladder to the ground. Normally he would have simply jumped, but his leg might give way if he did so now.
With growing dread he entered his Lord’s house. With each footstep his leg trembled as he went down the endless hall to the study. The sturdy door blocked his way and his hand slowly rose to knock. There was no reply. Sudden hope twisted its way through his heart and he reached for the door knob. The door opened- there was no one there. Haplo knew then, what to do. Grabbing a loose sheet of paper he hastily wrote down a message declaring his mission to Aberrach a failure and then, using all the stealth taught to him in the Labyrinth, slipped back out.
He would follow Alfred into Death’s Gate and this time he wouldn’t let him slip away, even if a part of him wondered what he would do with the Sartan if he did catch him.
Takes place right after Fire Sea
-------
In the dimly lit sky of The Nexus there was no sun, no stars, and no moons, but if one looked closely there was a small black hole. The hole rippled, the surrounding air distorted and a large ship squeezed out. The inhabitants of the Labyrinth, knowing that this was their Lord’s doing took notice- their survival instincts wouldn’t let them not take notice- but went on with their work.
Alfred woke with a start as something warm and wet touched his cheek. Hot air blew against his face and he instinctively raised an arm to ward it off. His fingers encountered warmth and soft fur. He opened his eyes and the dog ‘whuffed’ softly. He was lying on the floor of Haplo’s ship, and beyond the dog he could see Haplo himself slumped down against the wall.
The air was clean and cool, he noticed, his magic no longer straining to keep him alive, although he still ached from exhaustion and healing bruises. The air didn’t sigh from the moans of the dead, only the creaking of wooden boards and ropes. There were no longer in Aberrach. He shakily rose to his feet and made to move forward, only to trip over the dog. He fell with a loud thud and he cringed, glancing at Haplo. His form was still, although whether he was still asleep, Alfred couldn’t tell. The dog glared at him reproachfully from the side and Alfred tried to look apologetic. Apparently it worked, since the animal sat, looking exasperated, but tolerant.
Alfred slowly rose to his feet once more, although he wondered if it was even worth the effort; he would likely end up back on the floor again sometime soon. He glanced warily at Haplo again. The Patryn’s face was pale but still, his chest moving smoothly as he breathed. Haplo had warned him to leave while he was still asleep. He was… letting him go? Alfred’s survival instincts were clamoring at him to turn and climb the ladder up to the deck, but- where would he go? He had found his people, what they had been reduced to. They were pathetic; as pathetic as himself.
According to Haplo there were no Sartan on Pryan. Likely they and the Sartan on Chelestrea had met with the same fate as the ones on Arianus. Would he simply wander aimlessly again? In some ways Alfred felt that he had drifted in the winds since he had been born. Here he was again; no real reason to live and without the courage to die.
A warm tongue lapped at his hand and Alfred started before hesitantly stroking an ear. The dog looked up with warm brown eyes, smiling in a dog-like fashion. “I should go,” Alfred murmured to him. Slowly he turned, until he faced a simple metal ladder. He hoped it wasn’t slippery. With an air of inevitability about him he stepped forward, step by heavy step getting closer until one foot twisted unexpectedly, making him fall against the ladder. He clung there for a moment, gathering his feet underneath him. He glanced back; Haplo was still crumpled against the wall and Dog was watching, amused.
He turned back to the ladder and slowly placed one foot and then another up, climbing with the care most men would save for a sheer cliff. Suddenly something tugged on his pants leg, nearly causing him to fall. Straining to look down, Alfred caught sight of the dog with his pants in his mouth. When he saw that he had caught Alfred’s attention he let go and whined softly. “N-no. I don’t have any treats,” Alfred stammered. The dog took issue with this and grabbed hold again, tugging more insistently. “P-please don’t. I’m trying to leave,” Alfred tried to say, but his hand slipped and he came tumbling down again.
Certain that this time Haplo would surely wake he scrambled to get back up, his legs twisting and flailing as he lunged for the ladder. His face made its acquaintance with the floor. Huddled on the floor Alfred waited for harsh words or hands to pain him. Silence. The dog nudged him with his nose. Puzzled, Alfred snuck a glance over to the other wall again. No movement. No change in Haplo’s posture or expression. Suddenly afraid he looked carefully at the dog. Haplo had been exhausted and injured, but surely if he was in serious danger the dog would show it. He was licked for his troubles. Puzzled, he shuffled forward on his hands and knees. Closer he could see the dark stain on Haplo’s pants and the sticky dried blood on the floor. Slowly his hand reached forward to touch and behind him the dog growled. He froze. The dog’s claws scraped softly on the wood as he padded around to look at him. His hand was licked again and the dog settled down on the floor, as if to say, ‘I am watching you.’ Carefully Alfred inched his hand forward, watching carefully for the reaction. The dog kept watch, but did not move.
His fingers brushed the pants, stiff with dried blood. He saw the arrowhead discarded on the floor with some relief. Warily his thumb brushed over where it had entered the thigh. Dried blood flaked off, but Alfred could see no evidence of the wound. A glance at Haplo’s chest showed that it was still slowly moving up and down. Relieved, he sat back. Perhaps Haplo was simply exhausted, on Aberrach he had been near death both literally and figuratively.
Haplo was alive. His phantasm wasn’t twisting and writhing about his body, his chest moved softly with his breath, and his face- he was frowning. In the mausoleum the Sartan all looked so peaceful and radiant with beauty. Not Haplo. Even in his sleep he looked worn and angry. He was not unhandsome; his features strong, his body kept scarless by his magic, yet looking on his face Alfred could trace invisible scars etched deep into the skin. “My people put those there,” he whispered.
A few strands of hair were swept over Haplo’s face and he gently brushed them away. His skin was warm, smeared with dirt but still- alive. “He’s alive because of me, and I am alive because of him,” Alfred realized. Perhaps one day that wouldn’t be surprising, it would be taken for granted that they would risk their lives for each other. Alfred could almost see it; traveling to Chelestrea together, speaking with the mensch, inspecting the traces that the Sartans had left behind, even- even walking together through an empty mausoleum. Two pairs of footsteps echoing off the vast walls would be far less lonely than just one. A furry head nudging insistently at his arm broke his thoughts. Alfred petted the dog obligingly, “Thank you, I was getting carried away, wasn’t I?”
Much calmer now, Alfred once again rose to his feet. He would go through Death’s Gate alone once more, although he didn’t know what he would find beyond it.
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There was another loud thud from up above and Haplo wearily opened his eyes. The dog was sitting in front of him and he spoke to it, “It’s a miracle he hasn’t broken his neck yet.” The Sartan was leaving, on his way to Death’s Gate and his freedom. Something crashed and there was a yelp. Well, he would be on his way if he could get across the ship’s deck. He should be stopping him and yet… he lifted his hand up to touch where Alfred had brushed against his face. His fingers had been warm and alive, his clumsiness exasperating but not dogged by the sighing moans of phantasms caged to their mortal corpses. Haplo had seen and felt agony in the Labyrinth but that- living death on Alberach he would not wish on his own people, and he grudgingly admitted to himself that would not wish it on Alfred either. He couldn’t tell his Lord of the practice. “But how can I lie to him?” he asked himself.
There were no more noises from above and Haplo stiffly rose to his feet. He steered the ship closer to the ground and climbed up the steel ladder to the deck, then went down the rope ladder to the ground. Normally he would have simply jumped, but his leg might give way if he did so now.
With growing dread he entered his Lord’s house. With each footstep his leg trembled as he went down the endless hall to the study. The sturdy door blocked his way and his hand slowly rose to knock. There was no reply. Sudden hope twisted its way through his heart and he reached for the door knob. The door opened- there was no one there. Haplo knew then, what to do. Grabbing a loose sheet of paper he hastily wrote down a message declaring his mission to Aberrach a failure and then, using all the stealth taught to him in the Labyrinth, slipped back out.
He would follow Alfred into Death’s Gate and this time he wouldn’t let him slip away, even if a part of him wondered what he would do with the Sartan if he did catch him.