Nidge Darkfold stands in his home above the infirmary in Klima and looks out across the city. His eyes wander over the warrior's hall, the office of the Scribes and on to the tavern. The physician has just risen from his furs and shivers in the cool air of the desert morning. He turns and looks down at his boy sleeping soundly still. A smile creeps across his face slowly, like the sun spreading out across the face of the city.
A cloud passes over Nidge's mind; he thinks of those that have fled the storms and how the sand seems to have erased almost every trace of them. Almost every trace - they will live in his mind and in his heart for as long as he continues to be. So many people have passed through his life, like grains of sand falling from his hand in the Tahari. Nidge closes his eyes for a moment, not wishing to weep for those lost as it would dishonour all of the times he spent with those great people.
The sun finally reaches Nidge and the warmth of it on his skin brings him back to the present momentarily before thoughts of the past claim him once more. He moves quietly across the room, glancing down at the sleeping boy who has come to mean so much to him. Nidge's eyes scan the shelves of the bookcase, searching for an old companion. He picks up a leather bound book and lightly brushes away the sand from it. It is the journal in which he used to record his thoughts, feelings and the events of his life. Clutching the book to his chest like one would embrace a long lost friend, he smiles again.
Nidge slips quietly down to the infirmary to sit at his desk. Opening the book to a fresh page, he dips his pen in the ink and begins to write...ignoring the previous entries...the past.
"I have not visited these pages for a long time. Much has happened. I was alone. I found someone that I came to love dearly. I was alone again. The city grew and changed beyond all recognition. People came. People left. I collared a boy and had to send him away for his own protection. My brother returned to me...was collared...and died as a slave. I found another boy; a boy who sleeps close by me at this moment in time. A boy I will protect with my life."
The physician closes his eyes and rests his head back in his chair. His mind is awash with all the things he wants to write but is afraid to face. So much pain. So much death. He still has strange dreams about being lost in the darkness. The people he has lost. The cities he has seen engulfed by disaster. Tears flow silently down his face.
Tuesday, 11 May 2010
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