EXCOLO

[Mid-morning of Sunday, August 9th (day 70)]
[Just off Main Street, beside The Craftman's Touch]
 

I ride into town blind to everything but my destination, kicking myself all the way for not pressing on last night, as it seems I was so close. *probably for the best the horse is nearly blown as it is* As I come upto the shop I'm off the horse and heading in almost before the beast can come to a stop. My hand grabs the staff from the saddle of it's own voliton *the body remembers what the mind forgets* Some small part feels guilt over the state of my mount, but it will be cared for shortly. The store front main room feels at once so very familar and wrong all at the same time. The bell above the door alterts the fellow in my father's office...

“I'm sorry but we aren't accepting... Jared!” Erik looks drawn, shocked and dismayed all at the same time. “Damn... I wasn't expecting... We didn't know when or if you get the news... you look... come in and get settled down.” he collects me by the elbow and ushers me in, like I'm some elder needing help into church, and sets me down on a chair in the office.

“My horse,” I start, but before I can even finish Erik's calling for one of the boys to take it around back.

“Don't be worrying about such things right now. You look abit rough around the edges. Do you want a glass of water or rum?”

I've become aware that I still have my duster on. and my staff across my knees. Standing up, I mutter, “No no, not now, just.... I need to know what happened. All I got was a water damaged letter saying something about Father being a causualty in a storm? I need to know what happend and where Father is. Now Erik” I struggle out of my duster, becoming aware of just how filthy and tired I am, like some part of me wants to find something else to do now that the answer is at hand.

“Aw, Jared... We, ah, already had to lay your father down, it being high summer and all... we didn't know when you'd be back, if at all.” he swallows. “It's was the damnedest thing I ever saw. Back 'bout a month ago there was a truely terrible storm, took us all by surprize. While we were trying to get the windows boarded up,” he swallows and his eyeys go all distant and glassy. I find my self staring into him trying to see what he saw, however terrible. “Well the storm grabbed a chunk of the back fence and slamed it right into the back wall. Like giant porcupine quils right into the wall. I hit the deck not knowing what was happening, and I saw that...” he pauses, “I saw that Master Woodsmith... had been struck down... It was quick Jared... He didn't suffer.” I just go numb. “There was a nice servce, a good number of the town showed up, payed their respects, he was well liked. We've been setting the place to rights since then, and keeping up with the contract work.” He continues for a while, about the 'Touch, and the boys that are working there now. Some part of me takes it all in, but mostly I'm lost in a dark chasm that opened up inside of me. “We haven't touched the third floor at all since... it's left just as it was. You can move back in anytime.”

“Yes, you've taken wonderful care of the place. I... I just need some time to think”

I practically stumble back out of the office, automaticaly collecting up my staff. Going to the cart alley beside the shop, I begin working through the forms with my staff. Becoming one with the motion of the whirlling wood, through it, blending and finding that place between the elements my master taught me of. Not to do Work. Not even to draw power, or rejuvinate my body or mind. Not to see clearly, or find answers. Just to lose myself in the Place Between, so I don't have to be anymore.

[Open]  [Closed]