We finally left that annoying wet fog. The night sky was clear, showing the stars flickering in the firmament.
The truck went fast through the dirt road, kicking quite the dust behind it while its engine sharply hummed in the background and the chassis creaked to each pothole, jumping us both around.
And in the end, I couldn't close my eyes for both the potholes and the amount of conflicting emotions of knowing that the guy besides me was... Well...
FASTBLADE OF CALIDERAI!
The warrior whose sword strikes were so quick that they could cut the air itself!
The very same hero that the tales said that he had killed not one but three man eater Carnyx Dragons with a war spear and his trusty large rapier!
The famous frontline shock trooper that led those infamous deadly trench charges, and infused terror in the heart of Concordians during the War of the Scar!
You are telling me this guy... Is HIM!!!?
...
I want to scream.
I really want to scream.
How do I open this window!–
...Oh, you move this crank.
...
The wind is loud and slaps my face with force, like a whirlwind.
Just what I need.
I inhaled— And made the loudest sound my little body could produce.
—"Sheesh, such a long time I don't hear a zom– I mean necromata scream this loud! Relax! -Stop moving your arms and legs that violently!– You will end up detaching one of them again!–"
—"Sorry, sorry – I had to get it out of my soul. Is just... that... Eh... you... Ah– You!... do you have like, a paper bag or something?"
From the pile of unending trash in the row of seats behind us, he pulled a transparent small bag made of a strange, coarse, light and flexible material. Plastic, he said. He handed it to me after I closed the window.
I now could hyperventilate at my heart's content with it.
I then noticed he was reaching for my phyla... No, my head?
What are you...
Is he tapping my head with the palm of his right hand?
...
...Why do I feel better with those touches?
After a while he stopped it, but kept touching my head, caressing it.
...Something about it was quite...
Re–relaxing?
I am slowing down the rythm.
...
...This– I- I could get used to this.
...
—"Hey, no issue if I put a bit of music to lighten the mood a bit? It is a long way until reaching Tornbricks and you seem a little nervous."
"Music?"
I had forgotten about that.
—"Yeah, music. Don't tell me you don't even know what it is."
–"Music..."
...
After a while of reminiscing, I replied:
—"Yeah, I do know what music is. I do... –I do remember it. When I was with Mot... Senecé, she put a little box with 2 circles inside a magical artifact to play some..."
"'To make us more productive', she said. It was funny seeing her dancing and even cleaning with us at the rhythm.–"
I also explained a bit the process of how we changed or reset the little boxes to play different music.
"—And when that thing played, those were one of the few moments we all were happy there..."
...
He listened with a bit of nostalgia, as if that tingled a memory of his own.
While still driving, he pressed a big button in the middle panel, grabbed a curious blue book from the rummage behind and ripped a page clean from it.
"Hey, what was that for? Poor book!"
While wiggling it: "Oh, this? A copy of the Book of the Constants. Some weird mixture of religious and scientific bullshit that the most religious Concordians love to preach about. Came with the truck. My source of paper for joints. —You can read what is left, if you care.–"
He then threw the book at my lap.
Book of the constants? Joint?
Well, the book is here, but the other thing...
"A joint? Like, these unions?"–I pointed to my many, many stitches– "Or something else?"–I asked.
"Just watch."
He opened a compartment that was just in front of me and pulled a transparent bag with some strange green mushed substance inside.
...? Hey, that iron thing alongside it... Looks like a small version of his right metal foot! With a handle...
I... No, I better leave it there.
...? Wow, that paper stick in his mouth? From where did it came from? Did he really turn that paper and green thing into that that fast?
–"Cof! cough! Cof, cof! Ahh, that hits the spot. —My own mix. Helps you remember happy stuff if you are happy, sad things if sad, traumatic shi"–COUGH Couf cof...–"if...— You get it. I laced it with a calming plant for good measure." He said before placing a strange thing back to... Where the button of before was. Huh, it was the button.
...So that is a 'joint'. I couldn't avoid coughing a bit because of the smoke.
After leaving it a bit in his mouth, he started to ramble about the divine blessings he had. Some allowed him to pretty much cheat death, others made mind reading or mind control impossible on him... But came at costs that varied making remembering and learning stuff very hard for him, being counterproductive when healing, being worse than useless if hit by Soulkill ammunition, along a clutter of more things.
...Is he like that or does that smelly roll turn you into such an annoying chatterbox?
"–Well, what can I do about it." –He continued— "...Oh, yeah, I was gonna put music! Goes well with this crap. Haven't found it like the good stuff back at home, but this mix I got from a flea market gets close enough."–
He then reached for a little gray chest between our seats and behind a strange black leber to pull something very familiar.
"Wait, is that a... That little box with 2 circles!"
"Yep, a Concordian 'cassette'. Bought it on Tornbricks a while ago. You can find almost anything there.— Ugh, is in the B side. Whatever, it'll do."–
He then just fed the thing into an opening in the central pannel.
After a while, the entire truck started to play music.
The current song is soothing and relaxing. I can't understand what he is sa...Hey Fast, what lang– Concordian. But even with that language barrier it sounds like he is longing for something. Or someone.
Something about the melody and the intelligible lyrics... And a bit of that smoke, helped me calm down.
I put this "book of constants" thing and the bag below my seat so they wouldn't bother me too much.
I now... feel...
Safe. Like... At home?
No, I am not at home. But I am safe. For now.
Secure.
Far from her.
Next to this legend, even if it is smoking such a weird thing, acts so suspiciously and has taken my green book.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
But also I can't avoid feeling...
Nostalgic? Is that the word?
I might have few memories from back there and from those few are good. But I still wanted to relive them, to recuperate that part of me. The clear, frankly beautiful night sky, the ambience and this company compelled me.
It would be great if I could read my diary now. I recall it having lots of the good and bad stuff. Some drawings, how I learned about the spells, a petal?...
And... I think 34 and I put our hands on a page while dirty with charcoal. That lasts?
—Hmm...
It should be in the folds of this old curtain that I call a dress.
...No? Maybe in this other one...–Neither...
I tapped my entire torso. Not with me.
Below the seat? —Hey! I could...
I detached one of my eyes (Auch, hurts a bit–), held it in my hand and proceeded to check around the truck with it as if it was a torch.
He suddenly stopped the music.
...—"Hey, lil gal, what is wrong? You looked okay a moment ago, and now you are moving like crazy checking around with that eye! If you lose it, finders keepers!"
"Ah, yeah, sorry, sorry— Is that..." –I put it back– "Do—do you remember me carrying a tinsy little brown book too, alongside the 'field spells' one"?
"No idea what you are talking about. You only had that green book with you."
"Wait— No, I had anoth... Agh! The crash! When you crashed me! I lost it there! It was my diary! Can you go back? Please please go back! Is really important for me please, please–"
"No, no and no! We ain't going back! This baby"–He double taps the wheel– "Is as thirsty as a dracoraptor on a salt field, and here in the Ichorchate there aren't many gas stations. And in those the fuel is expensive!"
I wanted to bite him so bad. But what would I achieve if we ran out of fuel in the middle of nowhere?
I still pouted and punched him for good measure. Felt like punching a tree. Auch.
"—Listen. If you wanna remember, you can have it. I will teach you how to use it once you want it to give it a go."
He handed me the 'joint' and resumed the player.
...
Had a pretty funny smell. I... Should I?...
For now I put it in a little tray on the armrest of my door.
...
... This music is way calmer. Almost no instruments, but it seems to be singing about something profound.
... I sat in silence. I needed this calm.—
...
He too was quiet.
Really quiet.
...
Even sobbing a b– Sobbing?
Wait. Is... He...
Crying?
Never thought to see another adult, let alone a hero –especially him– spilling tears from his eyes.
—"Hey, uh, Fa– Fast... A– are you— Feeling... Do—do you need a... hug?"
–"It's— It's nothing, no, nothing... Is just that... The blunt kicked, and this song— Thi–... Their faces, I can't picture their faces!... And that fucking gas!— Their promises before getting even their souls blown up by a stray morta... no, NO, I don't wanna hear their screams! I don't wanna hear this!"
He quickly reached for a button that skipped that calmer melody. It seemed that the issue was the lyrics.
—"...Ah, sorry for that, girl. Is just...–Sniff– Doesn't bring me the best of memories, just that."
...
...I— I kinda felt bad for him in those moments. A bit. at least.
Enough to reach and hug him.
He caressed my head in return.
—
This other song is strange. Still Concordian, but Fast seemed to have relaxed a bit with it. Is like a... Small chorus? Is light and evocative.
—"And about this one playing now, I—Sniff– am just as lost as you, to be honest.—It talks about shapes and math and the like."
Shapes and math? Why would such a song exist at all?
Returning fully to my seat, I asked him. Turns out Concordia has a main religion: The Church of the Constants, and they are the ones that adore that blue book and make music like this.
He then rambled about something about... University? Dropout? Fast food? Friends, drugs?...
Never thought to hear those words put together in such a memory dump. What life did he have before becoming a hero?
...
The song ended. The next one was...
Upbeat? Happy, almost. More string instruments.
Fastblade seems way calmer. Hey! He is even moving his head at the rythm, haha!
Well, not blaming him. I am doing the same.
Wait, is that...
No way. Is Lithician!
{Note: These aren't the actual lyrics in Lithician, but a close approximation in English. And just the chorus.}
"...Kingdom roads, take me home–"
"–To the city where I belong."
"To my Old Andesittania–"
"–Where all legends are born..."
Fastblade seems hooked. Said that reminded him of when he went on travels with his family, and even from when him and his comrades got shuffled around in dracoraptor drawn carriages during the War.
We even sang the last choruses along! Hehe. I needed that.
...?
The rumble of the dirt road stopped. Now it was really smooth. I inquired about it.
"–Gal, Lithician doesn't actually have a word for what this road is made of. Closest thing is 'Hard Tar'."
He said that by this road we would reach the Concordian control booths that led to Tornbricks, but only after roughly 2 tenths of a day of driving.
But instead of driving until the sun rose, he wanted to sleep, as even with all his divine blessings, he could only stay awake for so much time.
I agreed with him in a heartbeat. I was also starting to feel sleepy.
He said there was a 'fuel station' that also doubled as inn, a quarter tenth of a day of driving. Pretty close for this 'truck'.
–"A thing: Bandits like to assault that place for some reason and the cuirassiers are pretty useless and rarely reach in time to do anything. So, be obedient with what I tell you to do once we reach there, alright?"
That definitely wasn't recomforting. But I nodded. But wait.
—"Cuirassier? What is that?"
—"Ah! Just the dudes you have to say we are going to Old Andesittania. The cheapest to bribe too, hehe".
—"Bribe?"
—"Ehh, no... Don't worry about that. You will see eventually."
Well, at least this next song and the really smooth ride helped to relax.
...Interesting. There aren't any lyrics. Its hums are a bit eerie, albeit upbeat. I can't recognize most of the instruments, so I am guessing—Huh, no? Fasty said the artist isn't Concordian but the instruments are.
What a talent to make you crave the past without saying a word.
...
I fidgeted a bit with the little funny stick. Its ember had died off.
It reminded me I don't have my diary anymore. Most of my memories were left there, physically and metaphorically.
Kinda poetic.
But I want to recall some still. He has already blurted so much of him.–
...I should repay him with memories of my own.
If this really makes you remember stuff that goes with your mood, it can't go as bad for me, right?
I now feel a bit better, this other song invites to it and he said smoking it calmed you anyways. Supposedly.
...
I really wanna see 34 again.
—
Do I risk it?
...
—Fuck it.
—!
—"Hey, Fastblade, check THIS out."
I remembered how to cast "Ignition", the concentrated variant of "Heating" that my diary referred to. After a while, the 'joint' thing got relit.
—"...(A la mierda!), that shit was COOL. Never thought to see a z... necromata of all things using magic!–"
...And then the lesson started.
"—Alright, breathe a bit with your mouth using the roll like you use a blowpipe, but in reverse–"
"–Don't let much of the smoke reach your lungs, because... Yeah, coughing is normal, you are learning.–"
"—Just leave the smoke lingering in your mouth a bit like mist in a cave, like that.—"
"—Then, just poof it all out, yeeeeaaahhh, like a little volcano! Just like that!– Damn, you really are a quick learner! No wonder you could learn such spells being this young!"
—...
Tastes like burnt spices.
At least it masks that mud taste that still lingers from when I refueled my phylactery last time.
...
I feel a bit dizzy.
Huh, it really acts fast.
By Omegias, here we go.
...
...The soothing music and Fasty's voice is fading a bit. No, a lot. My vision is getting blurry. And now black.
--- ? ---
...Oh.
16 and 17.
We get, like, a tenth of a day for leisure and they just HAVE to cheat while we play Hide and Seek. Inside the mannor is cheating! Argh!
Well, not that I mind much. I at least got an excuse to hide in the house of Mother's Echophage along with 34 to play with some cards we 'borrowed' from her drawer.
We had invented our own games with those, but sometimes the rules were boring (No, not because he was winning) so I sometimes changed them.
We sometimes even bet with stuff like bits of 'life juice', cool looking bugs, junk or rocks...
But this time, 34 brought me a flower. One very pretty yellow tulip from Mother's private garden, he said.
Smelled so great. Fresh, fruity? Sweet. Just like him, hehe.
But he is gonna get grounded HARD for this.
...I couldn't avoid feeling special with the lengths he went to bring it to me. And that confession was so cute I couldn't avoid giving him a little kiss
He was the happiest necro... Happiest kid of the house for a solid week after that.
I left one of the petals in my diary. By refueling time on that same day, Mother took that tulip and returned it to her garden.
I was gonna say that I took it, but 34 said the truth first. Surprisingly, he only got extra chores for the month.
So that dry petal, the entry in the diary and the memory of it all is all what I had left of that day.
...Now it is just the latter.
—
Nobody else cared that much about me.
I wish we could at least hug once again.
--- ? ---
—
I am slowly coming back to my senses.
There isn't any movement at all.
Or sound to speak of. The music is off and so is the hum of the engine.
Is eerily quiet.
...
I started to open my eyes. I saw the stars in the sky above decorating the dark blue background. The truck was also dark, and Fast...
Fastblade looked...
Worried.
Caring, almost?
He had his right hand over me, caressing me as he liked to do.
And by this point, as I liked it too.
With his other hand he was also cleaning my—
Tears.
"Shhh, shh... Here you go, sorry to have made you go through whatever that was. I am not asking details."
...
(Thanks for that)
...
His yellow eye reminds me a bit of that tulip. It– It calms me, for some reason.
...?
While he was taking care of my sad state, I stood up a bit to see more of our surroundings.
The truck was parked next to a very strange... shop? It is well lit with lights similar to those of the truck, but looks like a stall market made of metal and glass.
There is another structure at the side. Structures. Many little houses surrounded by a fence.
Behind us there are some totems in the middle of a large space, holding a big thick roof of sorts.
So this is a 'fuel station'.
...
I– I now feel less drowned. I can at least speak now.
—"No, no— it's... It's fine. –Sniff– Thanks, many thanks, actually. It helped me see the face of –Sniff– ...Of a good old friend of mine..." I could mutter.
—"Heh, alright, little mess." –He replied.– "You had a good voyage there. What a relief to know it was a nice experience."
He rapidly shuffled my hair before finally getting his hand out of me.
...This to switch to a serious expression.
He clicked a switch in the roof to light up the inside and spoke with a scary serious tone:
—"Well, now that you are good and all, I have to repeat you: This place is real dangerous. I will go to buy some things to eat and get a room to sleep on and park this thing, so I want you to stay here and don't open the doors to anyone."–
He continued: —"Watch out that nobody steals anything from the pickup. If you see something suspicious, open the window a bit and scream."
He then opened that strange drawer and showed me that iron trinket I saw earlier. He clicked a button on it before moving it around.
–"If things get REAL ugly, this might be your only ticket out. My war souvenir. Usually showing it is enough to deter. But if that isn't enough...".
He checked each part and piece, especially the long box that came from the handle and the little gilded cylinders inside.
He then proceeded to teach me how to use the 'handgun', as it was called, handing it to me.
It is cold, more heavy than I thought, and doesn't recall good memories.
For some reason, I pointed it at Fastbl–
—"NO! You don't aim it to wherever! You either make it point to the ground, to something you don't care about or to what you want DEAD. You wanted me dead?"
Wow, he really is quick when moving seriously. In a moment I had the handgun on my hand, next moment, is in his.
...Well, a way to learn, I guess. The course continued.
Its clicking and coarse sounds are really unnerving.
So is like that thunder stick, but smaller.
Felt... Weird, being in the end that held it. Like fear, and empowerment.
Like... Duty.
Now my duty was to protect me and the truck.
And maybe him. Unlikely, but, still.
He opened the door and exited the truck. While stepping outside and before closing, he added:
"—Do you like chocolate, right?"
Chocolate?
I...
—"I don't know what that even is."
—"Heh, then you are in for a treat–".
...
I would save that 'chocolate' thing on my diary too if I still had it.
...
Well. Time to wait.
...
I fidgeted a bit with this handgun thing, its slider, safety and magazine buttons...
Oh, and check behind for bandits!—
Eh, still quiet.
...
From this angle I can see a bit of Fastblade picking stuff from the shelves inside.
...
...?
Is that a... sounds of a gallop?
There are also some unnerving steps of claws scratching stone.
And the harsh clickety sound of handguns ready to kill.
