Memorial (Day 71)

--

Terakiel was nudged awake by a chill caressing his cheek. Bleary-eyed, he could tell that there was now light to see by, though his surroundings were partially obscured by a thick fog. Water droplets clung tenaciously to his bare arms as he forced himself to his feet. He could feel the chill in the air to his bones; he found himself wishing he had something which which he could cover himself. The bloodsoaked length of cloth encircling his midsection was ripped and tattered beyond repair but he chose to leave it where it was. Although no longer salvageable as an article of clothing, it was at least some small resistance to the cold.

He realized suddenly what should have been obvious as soon as he awoke. The fire he'd made the night before was gone. Shivering, he fixed his gaze on the charred log a few feet away from the silvery structure. No embers remained, but the log was still completely intact. Instinctively, Terakiel knew that that particular fire required no wood for fuel, but what would snuff such a force out so suddenly? The sudden change of temperature was surely responsible for interrupting his slumber, he realized.

The young man spun around in a circle slowly, examining the clearing as thoroughly as possible. What was he looking for? The fire died, as all fires die. It was unreasonable to expect that it would burn brightly forever, whatever the source of its power. He cast a sidelong glance at his left hand and swallowed. He understood so very little about what terrible things he was capable of. It terrified him more than words could say.

He found himself wondering about his brother. Had he come through this way as well? What if he had come across this monument and puzzled over its origins. He could have set up camp in that very clearing. He imagined for a moment that he set up camp and built a fire of his own, dependable flint and steel at hand. He'd have the fire going within minutes and food not long after. His brother was a great shot at the bow; Terakiel was certain he'd have no issue catching prey.

It was a silly thought. Deklath had likely plotted a superior route through Lakara, avoiding, among other things, tumbling down a steep incline into a tree and passing out. He'd probably discovered countless fascinating treasures on his way through Lakara but it was unlikely he'd taken the same path. Terakiel wondered if he'd managed to make it through to the Coramni Plains. Would he have tried to return to Tombolin? As vast and treacherous as Lakara was, who would want to traverse its entirety alone more than once?

Deklath had no reason to return. There was nothing for him in Tombolin and everything for him out in the wide world, or at least so he'd have Terakiel believe. He had been determined to find the truth. Terakiel genuinely hoped that Deklath had found what he'd been looking for. There had never been a man with as steadfast a spirit. The man's heart sank once more as he thought he might never see his brother again. Equally discouraging, however, was the thought of having to face him in light of what he had done.

Trembling in the early morning cold, Terakiel reached out to touch the monument. As usual, it was brimming with warmth. He felt the heat from the structure surge into his limbs, revitalizing him. He suddenly felt much better. Although he could not make up for what he had done, he could stand up and face the day. He could face his destiny with as much courage as his brother had. As grim as his fate might seem, the mystery of what lay further into Lakara kept him moving. He was no longer running. He was far enough gone now that no one would ever find him. He kept moving now because he wanted to know what was out there, just like Deklath.