He offers yet another burst of light and sinks within. The internal self laughs at him.
What an idiot…What a fool…What a self-serving addict.
He resists the pooling of water in the eyes. Not in front of them. Repeated. That mantra gives him strength. Good, but there is nothing to do. All tasks are ensured, and Catelyn plays the role of a leader better than he ever could.
Yet.
A witness scowls as she passes by. Repulsed. They share a similar look: brows knit, nose pitched. Huffing. She moves deeper into the cave, vanishing into a left tunnel. They murmur as she vanishes. The whisper continues even after.
Angry words.
Ron advises the n, the able slaves, conveniently excluding the witnesses. The forr were to be the vanguard, the weaker slaves, the protected. There was a familiarity to it. rrin smiled.
They do now what he had always done.
Fortunately, Ron moves in hurried preparation. He wants to leave soon. rrin thinks, lowering his gaze to the hooded witnesses. No individuality existed there. All the sa—a singular whole with a singular na: Sun witness.
He wants to annul the phenonon. Stop the frenzied self before it takes root within them. But he sees them. In their eyes, wide, expectant. They would almost die if asked for it. That, they would justify with a belief.
God will protect us. God tests us.
rrin shuts the caster's ntation. A curse to him now. Over and over, it played on the futures that this could beco. Anyone could see it. These people. These witnesses were the makings of a plague.
He closes his eyes, drowned in the ocular darkness. Attempting to achieve solace. It fails. The sound alone imposes the reality into his mind. He sees all with nothing. I just want to rest.
Ron's voice sounded. "We done."
rrin half tilts. "Yes."
"Preparation done now." He said, "Everyone go."
Again, voices blend in the cave. So shrank at the prospect of leaving. They hate it. They want to stay.
"We should stay." A witness says, amidst the group. Another agrees with him.
"No." One interrupts, his impromptu hood cascading like splintered saults. "What about the others? Yein took those. They need to be saved too."
"They should have stayed and endured as we did."
"They should be happy to sacrifice themselves."
rrin is astounded by their words. Terrified, but astounded. These were his witnesses? Creatures that could accept one's death for a purpose. What purpose was that? This must be stopped.
He opens to speak, but Cateyn beats him to it. "What rubbish is this?"
She moves past the standing slaves—the n- and roots beside Ron. She doesn't know, but Davos is behind her, leaning on the wall, head slouched, desperate not to be seen.
The witnesses scowl at her presence. Open hostility. Why?
She says, "Do any of you have sustenance?"
Eyes scan. Not many know that word.
She continues. "How long can you leave without food or water?" She steps against the angry stares, hand resting on her waist. He knows this pains her. And knows the act she wears. "Soon you would die of either. Or perhaps the heat would consu you before then. Your froststones are weak."
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A witness stirs. "The sunBringer can preserve us."
She stares at him coldly. "Is that what you see your savior as?" She asks, "Just so tool to keep you alive?"
This enrages them, and one stands, hand boxed. "What did you say?"
"I ask you, what is your savior?" She steps before him, almost taller. "Isn't it the desire of the devout to bring peace to their lord as he is to bring peace to them. What you do now is sure stupidity. Sothing that would only disquiet your lord."
She refuses to call god in front of them.
The witness is stunned now. Nothing can save him. And Catelyn presses on. "We leave. We move. And we survive. Together."
Silence returns to the cave. rrin observes their faces and knows indecision still present.
Now he is to take the stage.
A witness interrupts. "What do we do?" He looks up to rrin. "What does the sunBringer reveal to us?"
"You unite with your brothers and sisters." He said, "Then you escape with before you. With as your guide." He tries to stand. His body resists. He pushes through. "I renew my promise to you. Stand with …Follow and no one will fall to damnation."
They surge. "And so it shall be!" The words boom through the cave. They cheer and are rry. Good. Yet, Catelyn looks to him, shakes her head, then away.
She is angry. rrin thought. Despite her words, it was his that brought action. This stinged that doubtless nature of hers.
In minutes, all is done. There are no bags. No heavy carryables: just the few axes, chains, and ropes. The latter having been collected by slaves ordered by Ron, advised by Catelyn. She shines in such things. He admires it. However, she endured the constant stares. Her clothes, revealing, ensured the hard urges of n. So even attempted. In that, Ron proved more than a deterrent.
The witnesses, as it turns out, hated her reputation. She was unclean to them.
Eventually, the ti ca. Hour for the journey, but the witnesses resisted. Not out of defiance but for another. They bow before him, heads hidden in handspun hoods. A prayer begins.
Non-witnesses watch this. So sigh. So cringe. To them, this was a perversion of belief. Understandable. If one sought to pray, they wrote in the sand. Not this. Not this act. Even rrin finds himself repulsed by it. But unlike the rest, he hides it well.
Davos, however in the corner is unsure of which to do. rrin sees it. He bows, doesn't, looks around, covers his face, and repeats it. What a shattered thing he seed. Soon, the prayer ends with a healthy "Halo!" And the witnesses took to their feet. Ready.
Catelyn sighs again and speaks to Ron. Davos stands and tries to mix into the hooded crowd. They find and expel him. Pushed away, almost escalating to the use of pierce stone. An abundance in the dium cave.
Thankfully, it does not. That was good. rrin was too tired to indulge in motions. Yet, now required it.
Catelyn approaches, disregarding the glowering n. They are invisible to her. She reaches him, three steps apart, and says, "We aren't taking the ropes."
rrin waits for her to continue. She is intelligent—arrogant. Never would she propose an ill without the cure. Unless she sought to lampoon. And she speaks, "There's another path that flows through these catacombs. I think it connects all the chambers."
He still waits.
She raises a brow. "What?"
Oh, she's done! He said, "So what's the importance?" Speaking in hushed tones. "Why can't we follow the familiar one?"
"What happens when you lead countless people through an unknown expanse in almost darkness?"
rrin thinks, says, "They get lost."
"Yes." She folds her arms. "And what can be an alternative?"
The question lingers. He thinks, finds relevance to the teachings of newborn ashn. So were given layouts. Vague but still. This pools back into his active awareness. "A map?"
She breathes. "Now you understand." She walks away.
And rrin watches her go. Dark torn dress, embroidered to reveal parts of her fair skin. See through. She was like one covered in dark foliage. A warmth blooms within, and he looks away, beholds his people, and says, "We take the path within the catacombs."
There is no obstinacy to his words. Ruler. Leader. That was what they saw him as. rrin steps through the circle of witnesses, sides Catelyn and said, "Let's go."
She moves ahead, through a tunnel leftward. Dark. Four slaves pursue her, carrying torches. As they leave, the cave fades into a calm darkness. Lightless. Lifeless.
----------
Ivory feels herself a prisoner. Arched within the window fra. Round, legs pressed close. Cerulean light across her face, flashing. Sound distant. She reads through the book, staring right out the aperture. The world is enshrouded in fog, wavy mist. Spires peak out from within that sea of white. Eerily. Beyond that is a wall of darkness.
She looks away, beholds the library.
A large space compared to most places, sleek floors, dark, shelves like hills looming. There is silence here. A welcod tenebrosity, ensured by the base dim lights; white rays spilling upward radiance. She thinks lying flat would drown one in darkness. She thinks, but knows the invalidity of it.
Ivory is tired. She closes her eyes. Now she can show weakness. No one is here. Just her. Yet not. A breath escapes, louder than desired. Eye opens. She tries concentration on the book, but finds it unintelligible.
Who even wrote this? She tosses it. It spins in the air, stops, hovers up, and sinks into a shelf. A mystical air to watching it. Casted things. Often, she catches the allure it provides for the darkCrowns.
Sees.
So see it as a miracle. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't.
She sees it the furthest.
Ivory bites her lip, presses her face against her leg. The back hurts from it. Yet..it is negligible. She wants to run. She is cornered.
She cannot.
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