post 12

“This is a great improvement from running,” Cassia commented.

Atropose laughed, but with a mischievous glint in his grey eyes. “You humans. That was not running. That was a brisk jog. When you arrive at Laddinley. I will show you what real warrior training is.”

Cassia stared at him straightfaced. “I look forward to it.”

Atropos raised an eyebrow, “You do?”

Cassia nodded. “I’m sure it will be an interesting experience.” She stared at the wall next to Atropos’s head. Her voice trembled at bit, “and I think that even though what I’ve seen is most likely nothing from what others have seen…it’s not something I want anyone else to have to experience, either. I want to fight, and I want this war to be over.”

Atropos raised the other eyebrow, then sighed. “Your father has changed since he first stumbled into Laddinley, you know.” He stared at the opposite wall as well. “As has the Brotherhood. You might say we’ve…exchanged some ideas.”

Cassia waited, stratching Honey behind the ears.

“Time was that your father hated the idea of war, or any kind of physical melee. He believed that diplomacy could solve everything – though I suppose in those days it mostly had, for him.” Atropos’s eyes were distant. “And for us, the idea of negotiation was unheard of. We were raised with the idea of getting all of our demands – or fighting to the death to get them.” Atropos suddenly turned back to the present. “What do you think, Cassia?” he asked.

“I…I think that neither is completely effective. It is not wise to take up arms at the first insult, but neither can you continue speaking if the other does not listen or understand.”

“Hm.” Atropos stared at her for a second, and smiled slightly. “I think that the philosophy held by both your father and the Brotherhood at this time.”

Cassia tapped the bench with a finger. “But you are one of the Brotherhood. Isn’t that what you think, too?”

“To be honest, I am not sure what to think right now,” Atropos said, shrugging. “I do not know if this fighting that is to come is justified. I do not know who is in the right.”

Cassia stared at him. “But you saw what Tempest did to Cristo and the Armet. Don’t you think that their deaths demand retribution?”

“And before their deaths, your father and Laddinley were none too secret in their military preparations.” Atropos reminded her. Then he sighed. “Do not take what I am saying too harshly, Cassia. Do not believe me traitorous. I, too, am angered by the deaths of Cristo and the Armet. When the time comes, I will fight alongside my Brothers both for settlement of that debt, as well as the overthrow of Tempest, and the victory and glory of our people.”

“I am glad,” Cassia told him, heart pounding.

A slight cloud still hung over his brow. “However,” he stopped himself and looked slightly embarrassed. “Forgive me if I confide in you.”

It was Cassia’s turn to shrug. “If you do not want me to, I will never speak of this again.”
Atropos nodded gratefully. “I am your father’s age, so I have seen much more than you. I have lived through wars, both great and petty. Know that, after all these years, I am not sure what to think of this constant disagreement. I understand that we have values or property that we should defend with our lives. But I have seen many go to their deaths. And at their death…what purpose is there to them? The only gain is to be gained by the living.”

“But we are living now.” Cassia replied.

“But eventually, like all things, we shall die.” Atropos insisted.

Cassia was silent for a second. “My tutor used to tell me that the runner who fears the exhaustion of the conclusion of the race will never be great. My father says that heroes never fear death, because their cause is greater.”

“I suppose that is part of my problem, then. What cause is so great?”

Cassia shrugged. “I suppose you have to deem it to be great. Otherwise, how can it be worth all the trouble?”

Atropos smiled. “I admire your faith in things, Cassia.” His eyes were sharper can clearer than they were a few minutes ago, but creases still remained in his brow. “I cannot say that I can admit that you are right, however.”

“Ha! You know not what right is – yet you follow it – to win!” Marantha interjected. Her eyes opened briefly – wide and wild – and then she dropped off again.

Cassia giggled.

“You should get some rest,” Atropos said, looking embarassed. “We’ll probably be at Laddinley by the time you wake up.”

Cassia nodded. She realized how tired she was after running all day. Atropos turned over and closed his eyes. His head soon bobbled with the movement of the cart. Honey looked up at her with liquid eyes. She spilled to the ground and curled up on the worn wood. Cassia stared at the opposite wall, waiting for sleep to overtake her.
“Want to take a look at the scenery, my dear?”

Cassia jumped. Marantha’s eyes gazed at her, half-lidded. “Um…yes.” She said uncertainly, “Please.”

A slow, warm smile spread over Marantha’s face and she lifted a gnarled hand. A section the length and width of Cassia arm blurred and turned transparent. Cassia gaped at the old gypsy. Marantha’s eyelids had begun to dip, and her beam shrunk until she was limp and snoring like the night.

Cassia gazed through the window, unable to sleep now. Outside, the sun had gone and the night sky was a clear navy blue. Cassia frowned. She could not make out the familiar clumped shadows of the trees. Then the moon drifted lazily past the window, and several figures became illuminated – the long and sinuous bodies of snakes. The silver and green patterns on their scales glinted in the delicate light as their flight rippled with the eddies of drafts. The nearest one turned its head and its golden eyes glowed in the starlight. A forked tongue flickered out, as if in greeting. Cassia, unsure if the snake could see her in the dark, raised a hand. The head turned away. The snakes made a wriggling movement and descended, moving out of view from the window in seconds.

Cassia wondered why they left. The night was still early, and she had read that Witches usually migrated throughout the night. A light caught her eye. She shivered as the wagon became uncomfortably warm. A pulsing red-orange ball of light pressed against the bottom of the other side of the window, followed by another one. Her eyes widened. She had heard whispers of them. They were Kyrees. [*Kurage-no-hinotama - a jellyfish that floats through the air as a fireball.] She watched, fascinated, as the cherry red top of the Kyree moved up the side of the window. It was the shape of a bowl placed rim down. Below the top was a cluster of red-orange flames that rippled as the thing moved.

Cassia rose, waking Honey, who opened one eye, regarded the Kyrees, mumbled something in protest, and fell back asleep. Cassia touched her hand to the glass. She could feel the unnatural warmth tingling up her arm. She looked out in a greater distance and saw dozens more Kyrees drifting in the sky. They moved without haste and without purpose. Cassia felt her weariness return as lethargy followed the warmth. She felt her limbs grow limp, and slight concern nudged her, wondering how she was to return to her seat. She did not remember closing her eyes.