The die is cast

I was nervous. That was weird, I’ve met Kelara countless times. We’ve spat, fought, made love, cried, I’ve even told her a couple of times who I really was. If there is one person in all of existence, one constant in my never-ending torment, it was her, a brief brightness in the void. Yet I was nervous. This meeting wasn’t going to be like the others. From the shadows, I’ve been cultivating her from early age. This time she needed to grow compassionate and caring, a feat for someone that if history would ever remember, she’d be the ultimate monster. I was nervous, doubt was creeping its ugly head. I hadn’t felt that way for literally ages. It was weird and I was nervous.

The moment was drawing near. I had planned what to say, what to do. It rang hollow in my head. I despised deceit. That never stopped me. It wasn’t going to stop me now. I am a person stitched by endeavors and notions I dislike at best. That thought was calming. I’ve been a monster for a long time, one, or a thousand more sins couldn’t possibly damn me more than I already am.

I clutched the cane, all part of the role I was to play – the frail old wiseman. Age didn’t suite me at all, vain as I was. The woolen clothes were itchy, the hat hardly fit me, alas discomfort was part of the game. At least these inconveniences were occupying my mind.

Kelara was near and the time to act was at hand. I climbed down the tree on which I had been sitting on. As soon as I stepped on the soft forest floor I saw her. Kelara was in her twenties, had just found the ruins of her home city, and was on the war path of vengeance. This vengeance would seal the fate of the universe. For a fleeting moment I thought to join her again. I yearned to explain what I am, to explain who is she, to revel in the carnage to come. It was so tempting, damn all the plans, live out this life with my kindred soul, like I’ve done countless times.

“Never again.” That’s what I’ve been saying lately. There was the added weight to the “never”, it being a real never, one that couldn’t be cheated out, not even by me.

“Hey you!” I heard Kelara’s menacing tone, “Who -- What are you doing here, old man?”

My eyes widened, I turned around and tried to run away, all part of the game. She quickly overtook me and grabbed me by the beard. I didn’t care for her manhandling me, it was rather painful, but we must suffer for our art, I suppose.

“Do not hurt me, kind…” I paused to look at her from top to bottom. Her clothes were tattered from her travel, her face had accumulated a few bruises and cuts, “…sir.” I knew that would confuse her a little bit, make her a bit self conscious about the way she looked. It always did, she was as vain as me. Kelara said nothing about that, but I could feel her animosity bubbling in her. Instead she jumped on to business.

“I am looking for an old man, a dremodai, usually goes by the name of Sar.” It was adorable, she was looking for her mentor, and unbeknownst to her – her grandfather, who she believed was the cause for her home city to experience, let’s say, rapid temperature deficit. Like that fool could conjure something like that, yet he was the perfect scapegoat. She would find him and kill him, of course, that satisfaction I couldn’t possibly take away from her. Well… I will take It later and twist it into guilt.

“No, young sir, I’ve seen no dremodai for ages…” I was fully committed to the “sir” bit. I should add I was disguised as a human. Kelara groaned.

“May be the forest guardians would know?” may be I was jumping to quickly to lead her to them, but at this poignant point in her journey she’d need all the cuteness I can throw at her, fast.

“The forest guardians?” Kelara repeated slowly. Something was wrong. She should’ve known who the forest guardians were. Not all the seeds I’d planted have grown.

“The guardians of the forests” I started to explain, composing myself, “…they are creatures of great wisdom…” I shamelessly lied, they were little more than animals, “…they know all that happens throughout their forests.”

I so hoped that I sounded somewhat convincing. Of course, Kelara didn’t have any reason to trust  a complete stranger selling her quite the high promises. She was distressed and I gambled on that state making her malleable, at least to a certain degree.

“Ather, the great manipulator.”, that’s what they used to call me in another life. That was a long time ago, and I so despised manipulation, at least the direct kind, I am on the more subtle side. I wondered what had happened to Jenna, the old custodian that was supposed to feed Kelara my stories about the forest guardians. Nothing pleasant, I supposed. What else had gone stray, I wondered, Back to the present, Kelara was staring through me, probably thinking about what I said, thinking hard, the poor girl. C’mon, Kelara, the time to be impulsive and trusting is at hand.

This moment stretched, for what seemed like an eternity, and believe me, with eternity I am intimately familiar.

“Where can I find these…” the beginning of that question signified success, at least for the day. I had to swallow a sigh of relief, waited for her to finish her answer. Then I dived into the ridiculous explanation how to find the forest guardians, in fact a ritual, a dance, a way to show these beasts respect. They will worship her for that. Kelara went on her way. It would be some time before our paths meet again.