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An Angel's Respite (Chapter Seventeen)
Loud.
That's the only thing Alexander though, or felt, or—really could remember when he ran. It was loud.
Too loud.
Like every snowflake that fell on him exploded into a million different overlapping voices, all screaming at him every single one wanting a thousand different things some demanding some asking, but some?
Some stayed completely silent.
Those were the ones he was afraid of the most.
Calculating, plotting something, like mischievous planning—toying with him, playing with their food, quietly listening to the story unfold on stage, as they would say.
Loud.
«»«»«»«»«»
Loud
—Too loud—
—you should go back to the bird.
You can't just run away from a fight!
What if he leaves? We need him for leverage!
He knows where we live, he could pass that information on to someone!
«»«»«»«»«»
Alexander felt his breath hitch as he ran, the air up in the mountains seeming to become thinner even though the height didn't change, he was on level ground, still the world spun around him. He spotted trees in the distance; it was the forest a little ways away from his house, a small dip in the middle of the plateau—the first place he took Hester and Wilbur.
The cold was starting to bite—it was doing so before—but with the sun sinking and the night penetrating the air around him with frost he thought it best to stick close to something familiar and still somewhat close to his house. Nothing dangerous lives on the snowy peaks—at least nothing Alexander could find from reading or living there—other than to stay away from caves—nocturnal creatures liked the warm damp caves the mountain provided, that and the horrific monsters called Shadows, ones that broke all rules of mortal and divine.
They couldn't touch water and never seemed to eat or sleep, forever wandering for, something or perhaps someone? Speaking in a language either long dead or one that was never found to begin with, they were easy to kill—and easy to avoid. Alexander never had any trouble with them, he has a weapon and knows how to use it.
Nothing should be too different.
Other than it being too loud.
Alexander didn't stop running even when he was far past the tree line heading deeper in the forest he's ever dared to go before. Hearing birds startled from their nests and homes rustling from the bushes he paid them all no heed as he continued to run. In protest the monsters screeched at him—even an animal—they told him.
His vision becomes a sharp red as the world around him spins nauseatingly like he was on a ship in very rough waters. Alexander knew they would absolutely get their way, with him being surrounded by everything and nothing, all at once, everything that he could give to stop the persistent mocking laughter but nothing to distract himself from it. The world was phasing in-and-out around him—seeing things that aren't there or things that shouldn't be there. He really was just a joke to the Gods wasn't he?
And with that mindset, he collapsed.
«»«»«»«»«»
Old habits do die hard, I suppose.
I think we pushed him a little too far this time.
Well, it was fun while it lasted.
Are we supposed to yell at him? Would that work?
No, he'll get up on his own.
We should do this more often, it was fun.
Is he alright?
«»«»«»«»«»
Alexander groned sightly from what he would assume was frostbite attacking and numbing his legs at the same time, the monsters yelled and screamed some with delight, alert, frustration, or fear a few pelting him with questions and quickly telling him...
That's the only thing Alexander though, or felt, or—really could remember when he ran. It was loud.
Too loud.
Like every snowflake that fell on him exploded into a million different overlapping voices, all screaming at him every single one wanting a thousand different things some demanding some asking, but some?
Some stayed completely silent.
Those were the ones he was afraid of the most.
Calculating, plotting something, like mischievous planning—toying with him, playing with their food, quietly listening to the story unfold on stage, as they would say.
Loud.
«»«»«»«»«»
Loud
—Too loud—
—you should go back to the bird.
You can't just run away from a fight!
What if he leaves? We need him for leverage!
He knows where we live, he could pass that information on to someone!
«»«»«»«»«»
Alexander felt his breath hitch as he ran, the air up in the mountains seeming to become thinner even though the height didn't change, he was on level ground, still the world spun around him. He spotted trees in the distance; it was the forest a little ways away from his house, a small dip in the middle of the plateau—the first place he took Hester and Wilbur.
The cold was starting to bite—it was doing so before—but with the sun sinking and the night penetrating the air around him with frost he thought it best to stick close to something familiar and still somewhat close to his house. Nothing dangerous lives on the snowy peaks—at least nothing Alexander could find from reading or living there—other than to stay away from caves—nocturnal creatures liked the warm damp caves the mountain provided, that and the horrific monsters called Shadows, ones that broke all rules of mortal and divine.
They couldn't touch water and never seemed to eat or sleep, forever wandering for, something or perhaps someone? Speaking in a language either long dead or one that was never found to begin with, they were easy to kill—and easy to avoid. Alexander never had any trouble with them, he has a weapon and knows how to use it.
Nothing should be too different.
Other than it being too loud.
Alexander didn't stop running even when he was far past the tree line heading deeper in the forest he's ever dared to go before. Hearing birds startled from their nests and homes rustling from the bushes he paid them all no heed as he continued to run. In protest the monsters screeched at him—even an animal—they told him.
His vision becomes a sharp red as the world around him spins nauseatingly like he was on a ship in very rough waters. Alexander knew they would absolutely get their way, with him being surrounded by everything and nothing, all at once, everything that he could give to stop the persistent mocking laughter but nothing to distract himself from it. The world was phasing in-and-out around him—seeing things that aren't there or things that shouldn't be there. He really was just a joke to the Gods wasn't he?
And with that mindset, he collapsed.
«»«»«»«»«»
Old habits do die hard, I suppose.
I think we pushed him a little too far this time.
Well, it was fun while it lasted.
Are we supposed to yell at him? Would that work?
No, he'll get up on his own.
We should do this more often, it was fun.
Is he alright?
«»«»«»«»«»
Alexander groned sightly from what he would assume was frostbite attacking and numbing his legs at the same time, the monsters yelled and screamed some with delight, alert, frustration, or fear a few pelting him with questions and quickly telling him...
