When Angles Cry, Part Five
Freman was staying in the room he had been forced to grow up in. Only seconds ago, a servant, hired human naturally, had entered to inform him of Lord Wingback’s passing. The news had caused a mixture of emotions. Freman truly did WANT to care for his father, but it did not ever seem as though the Filda “king” had ever returned the sentiment. Even his last corking words had not been whispers of affection or even declamations of pride in his sons… no, it had just been a plea, an order rather, that they keep his work alive. That they, like he had before them, sit rotting in this City of the Loft, making laws, sending envoys, and counting figures. It was not the last meeting Freman had been hoping for, yet as much as he had come to expect…
Freman pushed open the door to his balcony and walked out. His childhood quarters in Wnigback’s castle were situated in a jutting tower… probably, aside from his brother’s room at the top of the winding stair, the highest dwelling in the entire world. Wind blew against him as he stood in the cold night, screaming at him to take flight into the mountain air. But something held him back… they way Cumlius had looked at their father’s bedside. Freman needed to talk with his brother, and he refused to leave before that time. Smirking, Freman spread his wide brown wings to feel the wind. It was rare for familial devotion to hold him here… After fights with his father as a youth, Freman would often find the door to the balcony locked, Wingback knowing his son would have taken flight never to return.
“Not leaving without saying goodbye are we?”
Cumlius’ voice cut into Freman’s mind, causing him to turn. Smiling at his brother, Freman shook his head, pointing to the sky.
“Nay brother, though the night is ripe for it… come, feel the wind a bit!”
Cumlius consented, walking out into the cold air of the balcony. After the two had stood in silence for a bit, staring out into the night, Cumlius crossed his arms over his chest.
“Tell me Freman…” he asked, looking upwards to the gleaming stars, “when our father gave us leave to travel, to have five years to wander the world, where did you go… what did you see?”
Freman join his brother in gazing upwards at the stars. About three and a half years ago, Lord Wingback had, for reasons unknown to Freman, suddenly decided that his two children could leave the City of the Loft, provided they give their most sacred vow to return in five years. It had been while they were gone that he had began to wane in health and vigor, and their five years had been shortened by this visit. Sighing, Freman stepped closer to the edge of the balcony, spreading his wings again as he closed his eyes. The feel of the wind beneath them, blowing back at his brown hair, brought back memories of his travels.
“You flew west brother, so I did the only plausible thing… I flew east. I flew over the sea, Cumlius. Did you ever see it in your travels? So large, so blue… stretching on forever to kiss the sky beyond my sight…”
Freman heard Cumlius chuckle, and step closer behind him.
“Aye… I saw it…”
“I flew over the sea, and found a land to the south and east of here. It was a land where nothing green grew. No plants, no water, no animals or people… nothing… not for miles upon miles. It was a sea of sand nearly as large as the sea of water I had just crossed. So I continued on west, and there I found the decayed husk of a civilization… ruins of castles, towns, farms, temples… this at one time, I thought to myself, must have been a mighty land, filled with people dedicated to kingdom. But yet, I did not see a single living soul… it was as though all the members of that race were slain overnight by the will of the Maker…”
“If the stories I heard were even a tenth correct, then there is some truth to what you came to believe,” Cumlius murmured.
“From their I flew on eastward,” Freman went on, “over a vast forest which I do not think any of the earth-crawlers could have passed. It too stretched for miles, waving in wind below me. I turned to the north east and flew on, where I saw plains, rivers… much like the ruined kingdom, only this one had only the occasional hut below me, people herding goats, sheep, and the like… I flew over these fields back and forth, hoping to find more people, but father’s fliers found me, and so I returned. And what of you brother? What did the famous hawk eyes of Cumlius see?”
Cumlius came and stood next to him, eyes staring out into the night. Freman looked over and saw something glisten in his brother’s eyes. Was it the moon, or was it actually tears? Was he crying? After a pause, Cumlius bowed his head. He spoke low, but clear, feeling in every word.
“I few west, over a great sea, and then I saw the men of earth killing each other on a great field. I flew on and found one of their great cities… there I saw them trample on the old and young… I saw them murder and steal… I heard stories of days past, and legends of days that never were… And then I flew on, over the very pains you found. Then I flew near the forest you traversed, and there, as I headed south, I found the tower of an old and powerful being. He showed me many things… some I had already known, and others I had not.”
Cumlius looked up to the moon, eyes burning with an inner light. Freman felt the intensity burning off him like a flame.
“Freman, our people are scattered and without a true leader. Our father saw this. True, he places this kingdom above his sons, something that was horrible, and he was not a Filda of virtue and truth… but the need he saw was real. The earth-crawlers abuse even their own kind, and they show even less affection towards we Filda…” turning towards Freman, Cumlius held open his hands, “Freman, we cannot let what our father started die… our people need it, and we need to help them…”
Freman looked to the floor. He had not expected this…
“But what about us?” he asked, voice cracking, “our freedom? Our lives?”
“Maybe some of us have to give that up…” Cumlius sighed, head bowing.
“You feel this is what we must do, don’t you?” Freman asked, “but surely it’s not what you dream of doing… the life you want?”
“No, not for either of us…”
“Maybe you are right,” Freman murmured, “but not both of us surely… let one of us stay here, and the other follow his dreams, his freedom…”
“True go, you thirst for freedom, just please come to tell me of what happens to you from time to time.”
Freman felt a flare go off in his mind. Cumlius had long been his only friend, the one who had reasoned on his behalf with their father, the one who had kept him sane over the long years of confinement in the City.
“No!” Freman cried, slamming his fist into his palm, “I will not see you here rotting in this place!”
“I have an idea,” Cumlius responded, holding up a coin, “let’s flip for it! Face, I will stay… crest, you can lead our people!”
The coin flashed in the moonlight as it flew into the air. Freman watched it, and felt a tear slowly fall from his cheek.
Freman pushed open the door to his balcony and walked out. His childhood quarters in Wnigback’s castle were situated in a jutting tower… probably, aside from his brother’s room at the top of the winding stair, the highest dwelling in the entire world. Wind blew against him as he stood in the cold night, screaming at him to take flight into the mountain air. But something held him back… they way Cumlius had looked at their father’s bedside. Freman needed to talk with his brother, and he refused to leave before that time. Smirking, Freman spread his wide brown wings to feel the wind. It was rare for familial devotion to hold him here… After fights with his father as a youth, Freman would often find the door to the balcony locked, Wingback knowing his son would have taken flight never to return.
“Not leaving without saying goodbye are we?”
Cumlius’ voice cut into Freman’s mind, causing him to turn. Smiling at his brother, Freman shook his head, pointing to the sky.
“Nay brother, though the night is ripe for it… come, feel the wind a bit!”
Cumlius consented, walking out into the cold air of the balcony. After the two had stood in silence for a bit, staring out into the night, Cumlius crossed his arms over his chest.
“Tell me Freman…” he asked, looking upwards to the gleaming stars, “when our father gave us leave to travel, to have five years to wander the world, where did you go… what did you see?”
Freman join his brother in gazing upwards at the stars. About three and a half years ago, Lord Wingback had, for reasons unknown to Freman, suddenly decided that his two children could leave the City of the Loft, provided they give their most sacred vow to return in five years. It had been while they were gone that he had began to wane in health and vigor, and their five years had been shortened by this visit. Sighing, Freman stepped closer to the edge of the balcony, spreading his wings again as he closed his eyes. The feel of the wind beneath them, blowing back at his brown hair, brought back memories of his travels.
“You flew west brother, so I did the only plausible thing… I flew east. I flew over the sea, Cumlius. Did you ever see it in your travels? So large, so blue… stretching on forever to kiss the sky beyond my sight…”
Freman heard Cumlius chuckle, and step closer behind him.
“Aye… I saw it…”
“I flew over the sea, and found a land to the south and east of here. It was a land where nothing green grew. No plants, no water, no animals or people… nothing… not for miles upon miles. It was a sea of sand nearly as large as the sea of water I had just crossed. So I continued on west, and there I found the decayed husk of a civilization… ruins of castles, towns, farms, temples… this at one time, I thought to myself, must have been a mighty land, filled with people dedicated to kingdom. But yet, I did not see a single living soul… it was as though all the members of that race were slain overnight by the will of the Maker…”
“If the stories I heard were even a tenth correct, then there is some truth to what you came to believe,” Cumlius murmured.
“From their I flew on eastward,” Freman went on, “over a vast forest which I do not think any of the earth-crawlers could have passed. It too stretched for miles, waving in wind below me. I turned to the north east and flew on, where I saw plains, rivers… much like the ruined kingdom, only this one had only the occasional hut below me, people herding goats, sheep, and the like… I flew over these fields back and forth, hoping to find more people, but father’s fliers found me, and so I returned. And what of you brother? What did the famous hawk eyes of Cumlius see?”
Cumlius came and stood next to him, eyes staring out into the night. Freman looked over and saw something glisten in his brother’s eyes. Was it the moon, or was it actually tears? Was he crying? After a pause, Cumlius bowed his head. He spoke low, but clear, feeling in every word.
“I few west, over a great sea, and then I saw the men of earth killing each other on a great field. I flew on and found one of their great cities… there I saw them trample on the old and young… I saw them murder and steal… I heard stories of days past, and legends of days that never were… And then I flew on, over the very pains you found. Then I flew near the forest you traversed, and there, as I headed south, I found the tower of an old and powerful being. He showed me many things… some I had already known, and others I had not.”
Cumlius looked up to the moon, eyes burning with an inner light. Freman felt the intensity burning off him like a flame.
“Freman, our people are scattered and without a true leader. Our father saw this. True, he places this kingdom above his sons, something that was horrible, and he was not a Filda of virtue and truth… but the need he saw was real. The earth-crawlers abuse even their own kind, and they show even less affection towards we Filda…” turning towards Freman, Cumlius held open his hands, “Freman, we cannot let what our father started die… our people need it, and we need to help them…”
Freman looked to the floor. He had not expected this…
“But what about us?” he asked, voice cracking, “our freedom? Our lives?”
“Maybe some of us have to give that up…” Cumlius sighed, head bowing.
“You feel this is what we must do, don’t you?” Freman asked, “but surely it’s not what you dream of doing… the life you want?”
“No, not for either of us…”
“Maybe you are right,” Freman murmured, “but not both of us surely… let one of us stay here, and the other follow his dreams, his freedom…”
“True go, you thirst for freedom, just please come to tell me of what happens to you from time to time.”
Freman felt a flare go off in his mind. Cumlius had long been his only friend, the one who had reasoned on his behalf with their father, the one who had kept him sane over the long years of confinement in the City.
“No!” Freman cried, slamming his fist into his palm, “I will not see you here rotting in this place!”
“I have an idea,” Cumlius responded, holding up a coin, “let’s flip for it! Face, I will stay… crest, you can lead our people!”
The coin flashed in the moonlight as it flew into the air. Freman watched it, and felt a tear slowly fall from his cheek.
posted by Czar at 7:25 PM
1 Comments:
Just so you know, people are reading this and expecting a new installation at some point... :)
Really enjoying this so far. In this section I thought the description of what the two brothers saw in their travels was particularly well-done. Keep it comin'!
Post a Comment
<< Home