Laughter came so bold and brazen as to fill up the room. In fact, the hilarity was so loud it was impossible not to be heard in the wide open architecture of the old library. Ely or Kiga; if he was here, would hear the fool, surely. But no footsteps came running up the hall. No angry words hailed his visitor, but his own.
The laughter continued to gain volume while a tiny wren perched on Perry's windowsill shimmered into a man. He was lithe and wiry, with copper skin, dark golden hair, braided in twin tails on either side of his face, and eyes the color of fallen maple leaves. He was rather short maybe five and a half feet tall and he was dressed in leather armor decorated with a simple knotwork design in pale green, light brown, and tan. There was a bow slung across his back, one that was obviously well-cared for and looked older than the aspen trees that littered Wistvale's farms and valleys.
"Well lad, that is a hard question to answer. What do I want? What does anyone want in this world?"
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Perry narrowed his eyes, armoured only in his indignant, cold ire. Just what he needed, either a waking fugue dream or some kind of damn shapechanger playing with his brain. Well, if it became troublesome he'd just see if he could cut it in half. The man looked a lot like Perry, at least to his own eyes. Same build, same height. A bow too.
"I don't like cryptic conundrums. And friend, you don't want to know what I want right now. I wish I didn't know that. So unless you want to find out what I want.." he dropped his voice to false soto voce "...spoiler - it's to kill the nearest thing to me..." then returned to his normal tone "...state your business or leave."
His mind was desperately trying to make him feel the very natural fear he should have. The words tumbling from him were coming from the part of him forged in the time he was dreaming of. Any normal person, no matter how skilled at defending themselves, would feel fear and be proven as a whole being. On most other nights he would have felt and reacted with more caution, more fear. But tonight Perry was almost another person.
"No. I do not think so, lad. Had you wanted to kill the closest thing to you I'd have already been slashed in twain. You've a fast hand."
The man turned his back to Perry and glanced past the uneven windowsill. The laughter was gone and where it went was anyone's guess for the next words were melancholy and pensive.
"I've sat upon a thousand windowsills, stood upon twice as many thresholds. I've walked more miles than I have time to count and I've seen every aspect of death."
The golden haired man spun around on the tip of his toes.
"Do you wish to die?"
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Not changing position for a moment, barely moving a muscle, Perry still seemed to sag. "Well let's just say I've made a habit of improving my impulse control." He considered the question he'd been posed, thinking back on the emotions and actions he'd taken after waking.
"The same part of me that stopped me from just cutting you for the fun of it says yes, or at least that's what would be best." His eyes harden "But the rest of me...the real me...won't let it happen. Not even by my own hand." That was something of a mini-revelation. Was it actually his rational mind, the part of him that wasn't just plain psychotic, that had taunted the mysterious visitor, to goad him into a fight?
Words came to him, paraphrased from a passage he'd once read, or been read by Ely - he couldn't remember. A famous killer of high birth in his memoirs. "There is an idea of a Percival Graves. Some kind of abstraction. But that's not the real me, only an illusion. And while I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can sense our lives are similar...there's only a killer. I am simply not there."
He felt profound. And idiotic. But this had been quite a bizarre night.
The man with eyes the color of dead maple leaves stared straight through Perry and came out on the other side. He made no sound while doing so, he made no motions, and he did not breathe. Wait. That was impossible. Everyone had to breathe. Right? Perry could not bother to consider it he was speaking again and the thoughts he conjured with them were... appealing.
"I find your words - not even by my own hand - conspicuously provocative. I asked you if you wished to die. I did not state you would have to kill yourself."
His intent gaze broke away from Perry's face and roamed about the room.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Well, that was unsettling. Maybe this...person...could kill him at a whim. But that would mean directly asking him to. He could. His rational mind mulled it over, weighing the option. He could just attack the man, slake his thirst to kill and perhaps die in the process. Yes, that would be the best option, rather than just telling him so.
If the man had appeared just after he'd awoken the question wouldn't even have been asked. Perry may well have attacked on pure reflex and instinct. But now he had to ask the question. Did he truly want to die? No. The survival instinct was too strong, and there were some things that were worth living for. But having all that he'd stuffed down inside come roaring back up and refuse denial actually terrified him.
"Unless you can only kill a part of me, no, I don't want to die." He shrugged "And even if I wanted to I'd try with every shred of my being to stop you if you attempted to kill me." If only he could kill that gleeful child he'd grown as and leave only the construct behind. If he could just be the Perry that Ely and the others saw for the most part. That would be wonderful.
"Excellent. People with a deathwish are useless to me."
The faint outline of the window was coming into focus more and more. Dawn was fast taking over her brother night. The nameless man had stopped inspecting the room and returned to watching Perry.
"You asked me what I want. You must needs forgive me for the earlier questions, but I require men with stout hearts not those who fall limp at the first whiff of confrontation."
He stood silently for a few minutes more his fingertip tapping at his shoulder.
"You hail from the land of sand and fire, yes?"
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Perry narrowed his eyes. He was used to being used. It was what he was built for. "You want to give me a contract, give me a contract. I like it. I'll take it. And yes, I grew up in the desert."
He turned his back on the man, so tired now, thirsty too at the memory of smoke and sand and the taste of bile. "And if you wanted to see me naked and sweaty you could have just asked. I've got prices for that too." He slid his gaze sideways "But something tells me you already knew that, and everything else. Or maybe I'm just giving you too much credit."
He went to the water jug, just drinking straight from it, forgoing the cup beside it. His mind was flicking back again, but thankfully to other things. Better things, more recent times.
His voice when he said the word contract brought back the bile Perry had forced from his throat, it brought back the hordes of death, the small caravans, villages, and every oasis he'd plundered, it brought back the breathtaking smoke, the magic curry, and last but not least an image of Boss flashed through his head and all of it in less time than it took for Perry to swallow.
"What I need is a warrior with bow and sword. You will be my avatar."
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Perry felt that rush of memory like a blow to the face. It rocked him, took him to one knee. He grunted, emptying himself of the water he'd just drunk. He was a mess. He was so tired suddenly. He whimpered, just wanting the night to end. He managed a crawl back to the bed, heaving himself into it and curling into a ball.
There was a mumble, angry and tired, laced with epithets of what the stranger could stick, and where he could stick it. Then sweet blackness.
Kulnn's laughter followed Perry during the descent toward blackness. In that place, the world of images, haunts and dreams he was a boy again. But, not the boy he had been in the land of sand and fire. He was in a cool forest where the mist was keeping the area around him illusory. The tall trees that he knew were there could not be seen until he was but a foot away from them.
He looked down to see a familiar bowman's brace on his forearm and a elaborately arched longbow gripped in his fist. He knew he must be careful with the bow, for it was a gift from his mother Orlune, and she did not gift such things without reason. Perhaps she hoped he would protect her while his father was away.
Kulnn knew his father was planning a journey far from home. He had spend many a night going over a series of maps kept in a wide desk in his study. So, as his father was preparing to leave he had hurried through breakfast and grabbed up the new bow. He rushed from the house to find his father still brushing down his favorite mount.
"Come here, Kulnn."
His father's voice was calm and soft. Daos did not need volume to be heard. He stepped closer. The top of his head reached his father's shoulder. He was proud of that. His sister was constantly teasing him about how she was taller even though he was the elder.
Daos went down on one knee beside the boy and clasped both his shoulders.
"I will be gone for several weeks."
Kulnn nodded his head. He knew that much.
"Your mother and little sister must be kept safe. This duty falls to you as the eldest male."
Again he nodded, his fingers tightening around the bow. Daos brushed the light blonde hair from his son's temple. Then he took hold of his chin and lifted his face up.
"Listen well and remember what you've been taught. Your eyes, your ears, your mind; these things will keep your mother and sister free of harm. The bow is for when all else has failed. Do you understand?"
Kulnn nodded once more, he was not quite sure what his father meant. Surely the bow would cut down any enemy. Still, he paid attention and listened. He was a good boy, if sometimes a bit over-zealous.
"You are not alone. Tavir and Stahl will remain behind to help. But, the daily decisions are yours to make. There will come a time when you will have a household of your own to protect."
Daos' voice came to a halt and he gripped his son's collarbone with a strong right hand.
"I trust you to remember your teachings, son. I must say goodbye to your mother and sister. Please keep them safe for me."
Daos released the boy. He had turned away and Kulnn rushed down the hill and cut across a small stream without looking back. He waited until his father crested the hill and was out of sight before heading down along the waterway and to a spot he knew would be full of thirsty deer. But, now the mist was rising and his world was a pale, intangible creation full of any number of enemies.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Emotions not of his own make were thudding through Perry's head as he experienced this dream. He was there, in a dream state as real as any he'd had. The pride of being left in charge, along with the apprehension. The fierce need to protect those he loved. His surety in his skill with the bow. That was an emotion that Perry had in common with the boy.
He knew he was being shown all this for a reason, and it gnawed at him. A part of him kenw what happened when fathers left their children and wives behind. Enemies waited for such opportunities. He should know. He'd been one of them.
Deer hunting, so much fun to take down a beast through wit and will and skill, then feast on venison with the family. His mother made the best venison patties to take on hunting trips, still succulent days after preparation. His stomach growled at that memory.
But part of him was screaming to abandon the hunt for the deer. Perry, watching, unable to affect the dream from behind the boy's eyes, was sure as anything that that bow had to be stationed at the door of his family, not here by the stream. Run home, he hollered, knowing it was futile. Go home and be with your mother, your sister. Go, before they're taken from you.
Perry was right, of course. The boy from the land of mist and trees was oblivious to the words he yelled. He could not effect him in the midst of the dream. Instead he was a silent watcher dragged along in a hunt he was certain would give the enemy time to attack.
As for Kulnn he knew the right spot to hunker down and wait. The deer would come. He had to be patient. And several deer did visit the stream in the course of his vigil; small groups of does and youngsters. But, there were rules to the hunt. You did not take the females or their young. That would disrupt the cycle of life. He needed a buck, preferably an elder. Elders were wily creatures though, having lived through several seasons of huntsman.
Kulnn continued to wait.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”