As Adam drifted on the bog again, alone in the dark, he allowed his mind to drift as well...a song entered his head...
( Click here for mood music: youtu.be...
It was soothing, comforting, in its rhythm and tone, but it filled him with a strange combination of remorse and sadness. He had some thinking to
so he closed his eyes from time to time as it played out,and the image that melded with the music was of his precious Dag.
What had he done? He allowed tears to slide down his cheeks silently as he reviewed. The crone had indeed planted the seed in his mind that was
required for him to do so. Was he such a tool? Was he guilty of those heinous murders?
he thought forlornly, but he did not think further and only focused on the music and the image. He was entirely unaware that he was being
watched while he drifted along. He no longer even cared what was to become of him. He had found the love that exists between the ethereal spirits of
the incarnate, the created, the sentient...and he had failed to grasp it to himself. He had let go.
He thought back to the lakeside, where he had last seen her. The strange being, the Boy In a Dress, had done nothing but help him, and support him. He
recalled how hateful he had been, if not in words, then in thoughts, and of his vanity and jealousy. Who was the more worthy of the woman Dag?
Adam, drifting beneath the moon, finally saw what was real and what mattered most. Each of them, this unseemly and awkward band of friends, had been
meant for eons to find one another. They were more than friends...they were family. A family not bound by the blood ties of reproduction, but by the
silver strand of the Divine, from whence they all were begotten.
Was he the last of them to know this?
He felt his face flush, and was suddenly aware of the real, the connectedness, the Oneness that are all. He had harmed others during various
lifetimes. Yet, he had been loved all the same.
Then he grinned, and succumbed to the knowledge. He was no failure! He was a student! An apprentice! And this madcap crowd of seeming misfits were
his team, his posse, his pep club...it was time to step up to the plate and own himself, denying all others the power to coerce him into acts of
President Bransom's spirit, sensing this, seeing it from the other dimension, scowled in anger. So did the Dark Lord, and most significantly, the Grim
Reaper who stood just beyond sight, and had been expectantly grinning...
(scroll across pic to have a view of what Adam would have seen had he opened his eyes)
...but Adam did not know this. And he would not have cared.
"Dammit," muttered Death as he retreated into the shadows and mist of the bog. This one had also escaped. Death returned to where Pandora was waiting
and saw her grinning, but chose to ignore the slight.
"You see?" she murmured as she moved toward him and allowed her luscious arm to brush against his robe-sleeve. "I've told you....the one thing that
remained in the box, my somber devotee, will always prevail. I don't know how many times you will have to see proof of this before you get it. That is
why, darling, all of them will eventually escape your grasp."
"Shut your bloody pie-hole, wench," he growled and drifted further into the darkness.
Pandora smiled affectionately, knowing his tendency to frustration, but followed after him all the same. "Why will you not accept it? You could
retire," she added gently, "and perhaps then we could join them in their own reality and no longer have to view them enviously."
The Splitter, hearing this from where he crouched behind a mound of peat, smiled to himself.
Once they had again evaporated to the otherworld, he stepped forward, splashing through the murky water, and grasped the boat. Adam opened his
"C'mon, then," said the Splitter, "let's go get them. I grow weary of the wait."
Dag and Brittle were given the map and the compass, enough provisions for the journey, and a satchel of tools with which to cut firewood, shoot
Copperheads, and repair tack. They were given warm cloaks, plenty of matches, and a flare made of fireworks material.
"If you get into trouble you cannot escape," said Fiona as they turned their steeds' heads toward the east, "use this."
"What will it do?" asked Brittle.
Fiona refrained from rolling her eyes, but Dag, who was beyond Brittle in Fiona's line of vision, did not. Fiona smiled at Dag for the vicarious
gesture and said to Brittle simply, "What it's meant to do."
"Time's awastin'," she added. "Tick tock tick tock."
Dag reined her horse and legged it forward, and Brittle's mount turned without his guidance, intent on following its companion with or without a
Within five minutes, Dag and Brittle were over the ridge and out of sight of the outfitters and Fiona.
Fiona shook her head and sighed, and turned back toward the supplies cabin.
"You think they'll make it?" asked one of the Outfitters.
"I don't know, Ben. I really don't know. But you keep that sword out of sight for now, and beside you at all times," she said.
Ben bowed low to her and said, "Yes'm."
"Rise up," she said. Which he did, and then she turned and sailed from the site. Sslar stepped out of the shadows next to Ben, who patted her green
head and took a long, deep breath.
He hoped they would prevail, but he had his doubts.
edit on 12-1-2012 by wildtimes because: (no reason given)