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The bridge certainly earned its poetic name, Jigano thought wryly as he ambled along its length, staying wisely to the middle of the expanse. The wind had swept it clear of snow, but ice still gleamed in spots, treacherously beautiful. The pitted white stones beneath his feet looked like the rounded tops of skulls, though some resembled the faces of those skulls, turned up and howling to the sky. He knew a little how they felt, pausing in the middle of the span to tilt his head up and let the wind tug at his grey furred cloak and long white hair.
If only the wind could blow away his problems as easily as it did the snow...
Samuel. Remi. Edy. Three people who had affected him in very different ways, though he'd only met the young alchemist once. Adults, all of them, who had already been through ordeals, both personal and harrowing. Even gentle Samuel, who avoided adventure as best he could, had within him the seed of a hero. But what would it take to sprout it?
Edy, beautiful disaster, child and warrior, lashing out and living for the moment because the past was a bitch and why should she expect different from the future?
And Remi, wounded and driving himself to destruction with a heart too big to protect...
What were they to him? Strangers, met briefly and passed in the night. Not his responsibility, not his problem, not his concern...
Strays who didn't need him. In most cases, didn't want him.
Blood on the snow. A small hand reaching out to him--
Well. He sighed, tucking his hands deeper into his cloak and continuing to the other side of the bridge with slow steps. What had he told Remi? Confront your memories... or run from them. He'd thought he'd accepted them but... he hadn't, really, had he? He'd been running for three years, run himself right out of the world he knew and to this place. Maybe it was time to stop and take the stand he'd been avoiding.
If only it were that easy.
Slowly, softly, lost at first in the wind a melodic tenor emerged from the bard who walked the the span of bones, white hair and grey cloak of a piece with the white bridge and grey mist. His voice strengthened as he sang, a song of love and mourning, until it was no longer torn by the wind but rode upon it, taken-- Jigano knew not where, nor cared.
"I love the white rose in its splendour
I love the white rose in its bloom
I love the white rose, so fair as she grows
It's the rose that reminds me of you.
And now that you've left me, my darling
From your grave one single flower grows
I will always remember you, darling
When I gaze on that lily white rose."
Archebold
The bridge certainly earned its poetic name, Jigano thought wryly as he ambled along its length, staying wisely to the middle of the expanse. The wind had swept it clear of snow, but ice still gleamed in spots, treacherously beautiful. The pitted white stones beneath his feet looked like the rounded tops of skulls, though some resembled the faces of those skulls, turned up and howling to the sky. He knew a little how they felt, pausing in the middle of the span to tilt his head up and let the wind tug at his grey furred cloak and long white hair.
If only the wind could blow away his problems as easily as it did the snow...
Samuel. Remi. Edy. Three people who had affected him in very different ways, though he'd only met the young alchemist once. Adults, all of them, who had already been through ordeals, both personal and harrowing. Even gentle Samuel, who avoided adventure as best he could, had within him the seed of a hero. But what would it take to sprout it?
Edy, beautiful disaster, child and warrior, lashing out and living for the moment because the past was a bitch and why should she expect different from the future?
And Remi, wounded and driving himself to destruction with a heart too big to protect...
What were they to him? Strangers, met briefly and passed in the night. Not his responsibility, not his problem, not his concern...
Strays who didn't need him. In most cases, didn't want him.
Blood on the snow. A small hand reaching out to him--
Well. He sighed, tucking his hands deeper into his cloak and continuing to the other side of the bridge with slow steps. What had he told Remi? Confront your memories... or run from them. He'd thought he'd accepted them but... he hadn't, really, had he? He'd been running for three years, run himself right out of the world he knew and to this place. Maybe it was time to stop and take the stand he'd been avoiding.
If only it were that easy.
Slowly, softly, lost at first in the wind a melodic tenor emerged from the bard who walked the the span of bones, white hair and grey cloak of a piece with the white bridge and grey mist. His voice strengthened as he sang, a song of love and mourning, until it was no longer torn by the wind but rode upon it, taken-- Jigano knew not where, nor cared.
"I love the white rose in its splendour
I love the white rose in its bloom
I love the white rose, so fair as she grows
It's the rose that reminds me of you.
And now that you've left me, my darling
From your grave one single flower grows
I will always remember you, darling
When I gaze on that lily white rose."
