Nearly There Nicely 39

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ch39

Will's empty dream was disrupted as a sliver of light crept its way onto his eyes. Groggily, Will blinked open his eyes and shifted up. He squinted to see where the light was coming from. The small beam of light was peaking its way into the barn, along with many other beams, from one of the walls. The barn was muggy and warm, with specks of dust drifting lazily in the illuminated air. Curious, Will got up and went to the barn door. As he pulled open the door and slipped out, Will saw that the fields were covered in a mist that rose up to the lightening sky.

Will made his way around the barn, and his sleepy eyes were sharply greeted with a brilliant light from the horizon. Covering his eyes and squinting, it took him a few minutes to adjust so he could look at the light. Then, Will just stood there dumbfounded.

It was the sun rising.

Far off in the distance, he could barely make out the sliver of the ocean before the light crested over the hills and fields returning towards him. Will turned around to see how far the light stretched, and then looked back to the sun. It's so quiet. It... kind of burns my ears. The air was crisp and clear, and cool. The rain had washed away any sign of comfort or warmth from the land. It left Will with a feeling of loneliness. Even though it's so still now, somehow it doesn't relax me. It's scarey.

After a bit, Will had gotten Crow up onto his back and began the long trek along the dirt road east toward the capital. As the sun rose high into the sky, Will was able to see the area he had been teleported into clearly. Slowly, Will turned his blue eyes to look out toward the ocean far away. They were still far enough away that you couldn't yet hear it's constant rumble deafening your ears. Will gave a brief look of detest at the water before turning back around to the west.

As he walked, he contented himself in staring at the farms, hills, and making out in the distance the light etching of mountains in the sky. And when Will looked back to the south, he couldn't even make out the dark shadow that loomed there; The wood was just so lush and vibrant, it looked like a wild shadow on the horizon. He looked to the north, wondering if he could see anything. But, there was nothing. The farm land seemed to just continue to stretch on, probably leading to some more villages.

After walking for a few hours, Will rested Crow down on the side of the road by some flowers. He gasped to catch his breath. Since he had been raised as a rich boy, he'd never needed to carry something so heavy on his back for so long, and it was beginning to take its toll on his stamina.

Will let out an exasperated sigh, looking at Crow's sleeping face. Does he even want to go back to the castle? Do I? His sight trailed to Crow's feet, and then to the dirt road. Without moving his head up, Will's eyes scanned up to look again at the peaceful lands full of silence and laziness. For a few moments, Will contemplated staying there.

It's lure is just like that time before-- that god that tried to lure me into a dream. Will turned his head to look over toward the east, the sunrise, and where the castle was. That's full of life.

After a few more minutes of rest, Will got up and stretched his arms above his head. He pulled Crow back up onto his back and started his slow wobble down the road again. At first, Will thought about how heavy Crow was, but then his thoughts moved on. He spent the time mindfully repressing his emotions back down. He could only be thinking of one place as being better than another because he was beginning to feel sorrow again. Will hadn't felt that poisonous emotion in a while, but since meeting Crow, he'd begun to feel it more often. It felt ugly, and made him want to cry.

Listening as his boots scratched the dirt with each step he took, and the low sliding noises of Crow's shoes following in a trail behind him, Will was able to remain conscious and keep his mind clear. Even though Crow was heavy, and Will felt ready to crumble beneath the weight, he could listen to the rhythm and keep walking slowly forward. Any thoughts that could lead to him feeling sad, he pushed down.

This isn't the time to be feeling sad. It just weighs you down. He thought to himself. Nothing would change if I just continued to feel sorry and sad about things. She's dead, and that's all. That's... all.

It was an hour after sunset when Will finally made it to the city walls. He made slow progress as he kept adjusting how he was holding Crow up as they walked. Part of the time, Crow's feet were dragging, and the other part Will made an effort to keep all of Crow up.

When he wakes up, he's going on a diet. Will grumbled to himself.

At the palace gates, two guards took Crow from Will and carried him off and into the building. Another pair of guards came up and conversed in hushed tones to each other briefly. All Will heard were grumbles of how filthy he was. They nodded to each other, and then one of the guards tapped Will's shoulder and allowed him into the palace complex. Will, tired and weary, was directed to a bath room.

Warm steam and muggy air blinded Will as several people stripped him of the dirty knight uniform and began to wipe him down with large luxurious sudsy sponges. They cleansed him in warm water, lathered his black hair, and then cleansed him in the water again. He was too sleepy to fight with them about how weird this was; He'd gotten used to cleaning himself ever since he was a child and rarely had to have people clean him. But the air was so warm, it almost made him nod off and all of his joints were tired. The only conscious thought he had was, Ah... It smells like peaches and mangos.

Once he was clean, Will was dressed in yellow and orange robes. He was given large pants that they tightened to fit him around his waist and ankles with thin cords. He was given a long sleeved shirt that also had to be pulled in at the wrists and waist, and then another shirt to go over that one. The second shirt had no sleeves and draped over his legs to his knees, with slits cut up the sides to his hips. They wrapped a sash around his hips to hold the fabric in place before bandaging his hands and feet in white cloth. They even inspected his injury on his head to make sure it was healing properly before pushing his hair back and tying a large strip of fabric around his head.

Once Will was dressed in this strange attire, he was led down the dark cold halls in silence by another servant. As he walked, he could feel the cool stone floor on the parts of his feet that were left bare, and the swishing tickling sensation of the pants draping over his toes. The sound of the nighttime rain was nothing but a soothing murmur echoing throughout the halls. They stopped at a door where the servant knocked briefly, then opened the door and allowed Will to walk in ahead of him.

Will stepped in to the dim room. He noticed a bed with a figure laying in it and another person sitting on the edge of it. There was a lantern next to the bed. Although the room was small, there were two medium windows on the farthest wall. One of them was open, letting in the echoing sounds of the rain fill the silent room.

“You two look like you've been through hell.” the man sitting on the edge of the bed said, in a soothing tone. Will recognized the voice instantly, and suddenly he was able to make out the face perfectly in the flickering red light. “What happened... Will.”

At the sound of his name, all of the effort Will had done to suppress the ugly sad feelings had shattered. Slowly Will's face twisted into a frown, feeling like he was going to cry, he croaked out, “Rhys...” Will walked over to his godfather, falling to his knees in front of him. It was comforting to take in the scent of his godfather, a mild mix of sweet frosting and crisp cranberries.

“Aw,” Rhys cooed at him. “You would look better in blue, not orange. I'll have to tell them that for next time.” He stroked Will's jetblack hair soothingly. He spoke with kindness to him, his voice echoing in the room as the servant quietly left and closed the door. “Tell me what happened.”

Will shook his head, slumping over so Rhys couldn't see his face at all. “You... wouldn't believe me.”

“Come on now,” Rhys answered. “You truly can't bring yourself to tell me?”

“I...” Will paused, thinking for a moment how to explain it. “He told me to go into this Mind Labyrinth...” He spoke slowly and softly, “And I went in and...” Rhys had to strain his ears to listen to the soft words, “I broke this Seal a god had on him and then...” And then whatever Will said next was inaudible.

Rhys sighed, stroking Will's hair around his head, musing with the locks. “Do you think he'll wake up?”

Now louder, his voice quivering, Will spoke, “I- I- I don't know...”

Rhys settled a glare on Will and his uncertainty. “The answer is no or yes.” He paused, “Do you think he'll wake up, or not?”

At first, Will didn't answer. So Rhys waited. He'll just keep asking it... Will thought to himself, recalling how stubborn his godfather could be. After a moment, Will spoke shakily, “Yeah.. I think so.”

“Then that's all there is.” Rhys said standing up suddenly. He patted Will's head when the young man looked up with concern at him. “I'll have some food sent in. Get some rest for now.”

Without another word, Rhys left the dim room, shutting the door behind him quietly. Will looked from the door, mentally picturing Rhys's soothing smile. Then he looked back to the bed when he Crow's soft breathing caught his attention.

Good. He's still alive. That thought brought a smile to his face.

Will got up and laid on the bed, pulling up the spare blankets from the foot over him and closed his eyes. He didn't have to try to squeeze close to Crow, or far away, since the bed was large enough to adequately accommodate both of them with ease.

As he began to fall asleep, Will heard a familiar woman's voice echo around him. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming, or if the sounds of the room were creating an atmosphere that was speaking, so he just fell to sleep trying to think little of it. But the question the air had asked kept ringing in his thoughts. The voice felt warm and rang soothingly over his ears, deep to his heart. Will thought it felt ancient and muffled, as if he'd heard it a long time ago before he could remember anything about the world.

Will, where is your heart?

As he began to dream, Will's last conscious thought was: I just want my father to remember the love that he lost. I can't accept that he'd forget her so easily.

Considering how easily sleep found him, Will was unable to sleep peacefully for a long period of time. A scent invaded its away into his dreams like a dense fog. Irritated that his sleep was interrupted, Will was suddenly aware that he was laying on something hard and cold.

Opening his blue eyes slowly, he looked around. The room was dark, the lantern having gone out earlier in the night. The air was cold and icy as all of the warmth of the muggy daytime had vanished. Will let out a throaty groan, shifting up onto his hands and knees before sitting back onto his legs to look further around. It was then that he identified the scent as roses, though the smell of them was starkly out-of-season.

After a moment, Will's eyes settled on a tall darkened figure standing over him. The figure was a man  who knelt down, and with a firm purpose, held Will's chin up so his head was crooked almost painfully to look straight above him into the man's eyes. Falling over Will like liquid was black silken hair.

“I believe I'd given you enough time to return it to me.” the man said.

Still groggy and hazed by his sleep, Will's eyes thinned. Either there was still sleep in his eyes, or the scent of roses was making a mist throughout the room. “Matéas.”

The god smiled a bit at Will's recognition. “Why haven't you brought me Invictus yet?”

Will's eyes, blue orbs, slowly moved toward the bed. Instead of seeing the silhouette of Crow sleeping, he spotted the metal of the sword laying on the bed. That's all there was, with no sign of Crow, or anything else of reality.

The grip on his chin seemed to become firmer and resolute. “You see it, don't you? Bring it to me.”

Will felt like he was twisting his body to look at the sword now, the hand holding his face still. It felt like a dream-- a nightmare. Briefly, a thought came to him, one that he said aloud to Matéas. “You need me to bring it to you?”

“Yes.” came the firm answer.

Suddenly, the hand on his chin was gone. Groggily, but stubbornly, Will stood up and made his way slowly to the edge of the bed. He picked up the handle of the sword. In his sleep-induced state, the sword felt far heavier now than it had earlier.

If this is reality, than this sword is too damn heavy.

With the sword in his hands, Will turned back to the god. Matéas was standing hardly five feet away, waiting. Will took a single step forward, and he saw a smirk develop onto the god's face. And then Matéas stretched out his hand for the sword.

Stubbornly Will glared at him and jerked his hand's weight around so the sword went up-right into a two-handed battle stance. At first, the sword went too far, and Will had to correct his grip and weight back to the center.

Matéas's eyes thinned a testing glare at him. Will felt a heavy air settle in the silence, waiting for the other to speak first. The power of the god radiated throughout the room; It was terrifying. “Hand me the sword, Will.”

Will didn't even have the energy to shake his head. It took all of his might to hold the sword upright. So, instead, he pushed every muscle in his face to a firm glare back at Matéas.

There was a continued silence for a moment more, before the air began to smell worse. The scents of various flowers flooded into the room, creating a toxic cloud that just suffocated Will. He stood for as long as possible before the scents finally over took him. Will's eyes lolled back into his head as he fell forward when the scent of spearmint made its way to his consciousness.

The world around him vanished. Will struggled to keep his eyes open and his grip on the sword's handle. But his body was worn out, and was starting to feel numb now. Frustrated, Will tried to will his eyes to stay open and focused. It didn't take long before everything became foggy and he couldn't tell if the darkness he saw was because his eyes were open or not. Then, even thoughts themselves left Will's mind. And finally, consciousness ran away from him.

The sword vanished back into its earring form and the room returned to normal. Matéas glared down at Will's sleeping face. “A little pawn like him shouldn't have so much stubbornness within him.” He lifted Will up into his arms and carried him to the bed. Once Will was settled back on the bed with the covers up over him, Matéas turned to leave the room.

He stopped when he noticed a secondary door before him standing open with a young man propped up against its edge, grinning at him. The man looked young, probably just younger than Will. He had dark skin, similar to a red chocolate. His dark green eyes were cupped by dark brown curled hair, with four small dark red horns sprouting forth from the locks atop his head. From his chest to his stomach was an interested dark red tattoo that was similar to a slitted eye without the round orb that would shape the eye.

The young man shifted upwards and walked into the room. When he walked past Matéas, the young man's wilted wings caught some air and fluttered up, showing how they were once beautiful like a dragonfly's.

“Ooooh,” the young man peered over Will's sleeping figure with interest. “You've found yourself a stubborn one this time.” He smirked, sending another cheeky grin back toward the dark-haired god. “What's the matter? He won't hand you Invictus?”

Matéas just thinned his eyes at him. The young man smiled in delight, and walked around the bed to look at Crow's face. “This is why I work exclusively with Binds.” He lifted his hand to touch Crow's cheek, “Things become so much easier to control... when you can torture them endlessly.”

“You shouldn't touch that.” Matéas suddenly spoke. The young man lifted his hand back with a subtle look of concern on his face. “What if you pick-up something?”

The young man laughed. “How nice! You're concerned for me?”

“No.” Matéas spoke, “You're just stupid.” The young man glared at him, and suddenly he didn't look innocent and cute anymore. Rather, a foreboding air surrounded him, but it didn't seem to effect Matéas in the least. “What are you here for?”

“I'm checking up on Adell.” The young man tapped his temple as he walked past Matéas again toward the door to the bedroom. The door he had come through dissolved like mist as the young man walked through it without a care.

“What for?”

“Removing a particular part of a memory, like a dearly beloved wife completely, is pretty messy business.” The young man answered with a smirk, as he pulled open the bedroom door. “I want to make sure that everything is going swimmingly.”

“You have bad taste, Neo.” Matéas said curtly as the other person left the room. Once he was alone, Matéas looked back to Will's sleeping face. “You aren't the only one who has lost something dear.”

And then Matéas dissolved out of the room. It was like neither god had been there in the room as Will continued to sleep.

Will felt like he had a bad nightmare for part of the night, but for the rest of it, he slept peacefully. Once the ugly scents of flowers had dissipated from the room with Matéas's exit, Will rolled over toward Crow still asleep. He felt cold, enough that he curled into a ball and went completely under the blankets until the crown his head pushed against Crow's arm.