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littlemanpoet · 11-11-2004, 08:55 PM

Raefindan was lying on the cold ground. He shivered. And ached. He couldn't feel his hands. He forced himself up and blinking, looked around. Ah, yes. The sward of trees. It was a cold, gray morning. There was the Elf, standing not far off.

"I give you good morning, Roy Edwards. You are very ill of mind, I would have you know."

Raefindan shook his head and cleared his throat. "Good morning to you too, Tharonwe."

"Do not call me that. It is a name given by those who wish me ill. My true name is Maegeleb. Sharp Silver, in the Common Speech."

"Maegeleb, then. What do you mean, I'm ill of mind?"

"Everything in your mind is broken to pieces. Nothing is whole. On one hand you have all that which you can see, hear, taste, touch, or smell; on the other, you have separated out all else. Yet your mind is sectioned off in unlike any Elf or Man I have ever met. Why is this so?"

"You're asking me? I've never looked inside my own head!"

"Ah, not true. You are constantly looking inside your own mind. 'Tis one of the strangest things about you."

Raefindan grimaced and closed his eyes tight. It was too early to be talking about such things. Of course, this Elf wouldn't see it that way; any and all times were good for talking to anything. "Doesn't anybody else look inside their own minds?"

"They think thoughts to themselves, but you think about youself thinking, and that is something I have not seen anyone else do."

Raefindan nodded. "It is a bane of the future, Maegeleb. We call it being stuck in our heads."

"Quite an apt expression, Roy Edwards. It is time we were up and moving. My enemies are aware of where we are and the direction we are taking. I would put greater distance between us and them. Here is something to break your fast."

Maegeleb handed him another swamp leaf packet, turned, and started southwards. Raefindan got up with difficulty, shaking his sleepy legs, and followed, munching on the Elven waybread. It gave him the strength of mind and body he needed, which brought back some thoughts that had been held at bay by weariness and the task of watching Maegeleb's steps the night before. Gwyllion had been stabbed in the chest, and blood had gushed from the wound. Mellonin and two other women had rescued Gwyllion from the merlocks, but Raefindan was sure that she was dead. He shook his head. He should not be here with this Maegeleb; he should be with Aeron! He hoped that someone there might make a point of easing the boy through his grief.

Elves, whatever your names are, please care for Aeron in his grief! Raefindan had no idea if any such mental message might work, or even if it could, whether those Elves were paying any attention to him. Maegeleb did look back, a wry expression on his face. Then he turned his face southward and did not look back or stop until the sun was high in the sky.

11-11-2004, 08:55 PM	#565
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,072	Raefindan Raefindan was lying on the cold ground. He shivered. And ached. He couldn't feel his hands. He forced himself up and blinking, looked around. Ah, yes. The sward of trees. It was a cold, gray morning. There was the Elf, standing not far off. "I give you good morning, Roy Edwards. You are very ill of mind, I would have you know." Raefindan shook his head and cleared his throat. "Good morning to you too, Tharonwe." "Do not call me that. It is a name given by those who wish me ill. My true name is Maegeleb. Sharp Silver, in the Common Speech." "Maegeleb, then. What do you mean, I'm ill of mind?" "Everything in your mind is broken to pieces. Nothing is whole. On one hand you have all that which you can see, hear, taste, touch, or smell; on the other, you have separated out all else. Yet your mind is sectioned off in unlike any Elf or Man I have ever met. Why is this so?" "You're asking me? I've never looked inside my own head!" "Ah, not true. You are constantly looking inside your own mind. 'Tis one of the strangest things about you." Raefindan grimaced and closed his eyes tight. It was too early to be talking about such things. Of course, this Elf wouldn't see it that way; any and all times were good for talking to anything. "Doesn't anybody else look inside their own minds?" "They think thoughts to themselves, but you think about youself thinking, and that is something I have not seen anyone else do." Raefindan nodded. "It is a bane of the future, Maegeleb. We call it being stuck in our heads." "Quite an apt expression, Roy Edwards. It is time we were up and moving. My enemies are aware of where we are and the direction we are taking. I would put greater distance between us and them. Here is something to break your fast." Maegeleb handed him another swamp leaf packet, turned, and started southwards. Raefindan got up with difficulty, shaking his sleepy legs, and followed, munching on the Elven waybread. It gave him the strength of mind and body he needed, which brought back some thoughts that had been held at bay by weariness and the task of watching Maegeleb's steps the night before. Gwyllion had been stabbed in the chest, and blood had gushed from the wound. Mellonin and two other women had rescued Gwyllion from the merlocks, but Raefindan was sure that she was dead. He shook his head. He should not be here with this Maegeleb; he should be with Aeron! He hoped that someone there might make a point of easing the boy through his grief. Elves, whatever your names are, please care for Aeron in his grief! Raefindan had no idea if any such mental message might work, or even if it could, whether those Elves were paying any attention to him. Maegeleb did look back, a wry expression on his face. Then he turned his face southward and did not look back or stop until the sun was high in the sky.