The Family Line Part 38 – A Meeting Outside the Ruins

Part 38 – A Meeting Outside the Ruins

It seemed very early in the morning. The birds had not yet begun their morning choruses. The mist surrounded Theomin as he wandered mounds upon mounds of barrows. There was a whole field of them. Dead were the trees surrounding the barrows and the earth was cracked. In the distance, there was a howl. It was no howel of wolves but something larger and fiercer. Theomin paused. The mists that surrounded the barrow gave way to shapes. Shapes of men haunting the field. They were forming out of nowhere, surrounding the barrows where Theomin stood. He stood back, in fear.

He knew not where to run. He took his staff and held it close, ready to do something with it, but knew not what. He was filled with dread as he did not know how to escape or break free of the dreadful place. The shades just floated there, doing nothing but looking at Theomin. He looked around saw nothing but surrounding shades. As he turned he saw Eleswith. The sudden sight of her frightened him.

He awoke. He was back in the bed in Ost Guruth. He looked around. There were no shades or mist to be seen in the small room in which he was. He sat up in his bed. Eleswith was still in the room too, laying down but he did not know if she was asleep. He rose up and stretched. Aches was still sleeping next to the bed. It seemed his lynx friend did not much but sleep. So to not wake up Aches, he quietly walked out of the room.

The courtyard was clear, save a few guards wandering the parimeter of the ruins. It was foredawn in the Lone Lands. Theomin walked around to the eastern edge of the ruins, still realing from the strange dream he had. He had never been to such a place, save the path leading out of Dunland. And Eleswith was there. “Why was she there?” he continued to ask himself.

Light was coming up from the east as Theomin sat at the edge of the ruins, looking out over the fields of the Lone Lands as the dark blue sky was turning bright orange while the sun was making its first show of the day. The shadows of the few trees of the land were becoming long and a dry wind blew in from the east. No animals crept nearby save a few crows cawing in the trees some distance away.

From behind there was a crackle of the dry Lone Land grass. Thinking it was a guard, Theomin turned while asking, “Is it usually this calm?” It was not the guard but Eleswith instead. A sudden fear coursed through Theomin’s body when he saw the girl coming closer. The fear forced Theomin to involuntarily stand and face her.

She stood only a couple of feet away, facing him, a blank look upon her face. For moments they stared at each other, nothing being said or done. She drew closer to Theomin, still gazing into his eyes. Theomin hoped to step back but stepped to the edge of the slightly steep slope. She came close, bringing her face close to Theomin’s. As their lips came close to touching she plunged her sword into Theomin’s stomach. He only felt the pressure of it entering his body as she drew it in further. He knew he could do nothing. Ice cold came dripping from the exit, and that was all the feeling he had at the moment. He involunterilly leaned forward and held on to her sword arm, trying to pull at the cloth of her arm. She pushed him and as he fell back her sword withdrew from his body. As he fell back he gazed upon the sword that was inside of him. It was stained with blood. His blood.

He stood for only a second before he fell back, down the hill and rolled. The world spun around as he rolled further and further down the slope of the hill. At last, he stopped rolling. Pain of his wound pulsed in and out; becoming worse and worse with each pulsating blow, as if he was being stabbed again and again. He layed down in the dead weeds of the dry loneland grass. With the last strength of his, he tried to pick the dead weeds from his wound, knowing there was no point. He looked up the hill toward Ost Guruth. She was gone. Eleswith was no longer there.

Above, crows flew around, gathering above, circling round and round. Breathing became more difficult with each new crow, with each pulse of pain, and with each passing minute. As his breathing became shallower and shallower, the world closed in. As he looked in the east to meet the sun one last time there, in the distance was Keymel, standing only yards away. He looked stoic, standing at the edge of the hill, smiling at Theomin almost saying, “Be at peace. Welcome home.” His thoughts then wandered to his family and farm. The dry grasses of the Wold and the smells of the pines. The last vision he had was of his mother and the feel of her embrace. For some reason, the feel of her embrace helped him feel better as he turned his head. Theomin looked back up but only saw blue sky, his breathing stopping, his eyes closed, and he slowly, finally, peacefully passed away.

As many of you know it has been very difficult to get the stories out each week with work and home duties I must attend to. This is my way of finishing off my series. I didn’t get to do all the things I wanted to but it has just been too difficult to continue on. I hope you understand. It has been an honor to share my story with all of you.

Tim