You Wither, You Blister, I Watch You Burn and Peel

[lugh-thecelt.livejournal.com]

Silk Road
Late Afternoon, Wednesday 14 October

He left today.

Eris has spent all day in the courtyard. I tried talking to her. I tried moving her. Nothing works. I can't imagine the pain she's in. Can't imagine how personally she takes his leaving, even when she shouldn't. I know she feels like we always leave her.

Ares may have. I will not.

Left the ranch earlier this afternoon. Needed to vent my own anger, my own pain. Ares shouldn't have left her. Left us.

I know where he is. Shadow has seen him.

Hera better not have lied to me...

So, here I am. Alone. On Silk Road. The rage boils barely under my surface. I snarl at some kids and they rush off to the other side of the street. An old woman shakes her head at me disapprovingly. I make her think I look like a wolfman.

I hate this fucking town.

[OPEN]

[CLOSED]

Comments

[lugh-thecelt.livejournal.com]

"Thank you. But if I may say so, you and your wife seem to be very well suited." I smile at that.

"We are." There's no one, no worshiper, no other god, I have ever met that matched me anywhere near as well as she. "I'm a lucky one."

"I'll see if there's a way around the witnesses, if I can. It is just to be you and I and the doctor, correct?"

"Yes," I lie. He won't find a way without witnesses. Religion and faith, as strong as it may be individually, requires numbers in order to thrive. And it must thrive in the face of a Hellion bastard like Marbas.

It's what this town lacks.

It's why I hate this town.

[brotherlaurence.livejournal.com]

"OK," I say and offer him a handshake. "It sounds silly to say to a god, but if you need anything, I'm usually here." He could kill me for that, too. Then I nod at the far room where I've been sleeping and studying. "I'll go back to studying, then." With a smile, I leave him. He won't steal anything and he'll shut the door. There's nothing I have that he could possibly want.

[lugh-thecelt.livejournal.com]

"Thank you, Father." I watch him walk away, leaving me here, unattended, in his Church. The wood at the sill has been replaced. The work that's been done in here is good. Masterful, even. My eyes go up to the Cross and I study it. Whoever crafted it-- I suspect it was Laurence-- took their time with it, grooving it perfectly. There is no space between the crossing plank and the rising plank. Flawless.

I blink a few times, unsure of why I stare at it like I do. Something about it... I step in closer, stopping right in front of the pulpit.

And I kneel with both knees on the floor.

In a voice so quiet I'm not even sure I speak aloud, I say,

"Help me."