Call of the Wild – Marto Copperkettle – 17.03.2022
Mar 22, 2022 13:42:12 GMT
Velania Kalugina, Andy D, and 2 more like this
Post by Marto Copperkettle on Mar 22, 2022 13:42:12 GMT
“We will get him back. Don’t give up hope!”
Marto had meant those words when he had said them to Gerhard. He believed them, completely and utterly. But if he was being honest with himself now, alone, in the darkness of his room, doubt was curling around the edges of his thoughts as smoke would coil through the air of a burning forest.
Like the dark shadows of a devil whose voice was like liquid caramel, whose laughter made the temptation to just give in already so strong that Marto found himself wishing to hear-
He suddenly gets up from his bed, throwing the covers about so they half drape off the end. Marto goes over to where his equipment rests in the corner, his breathing erratic. He stands in front of the bay and oak reinforced shield his Ma and Pa gave him, the cornucopia painted in vibrant almost childlike colours on it. Slowly reaching out, his fingers brush the peeling paint and his heart constricts a little.
“Gerhard, stop!”
He wasn’t stopping. He kept running headlong, straight for a black metal door that was purposefully moving into the path of the stairs. The others were above them, trying to get Kavel to stop as well. Marto knew Tayz and Derthaad would protect the goliath, so it was up to him to protect Gerhard. But his friend wasn’t stopping, no matter what he shouted.
Then the door opened revealing a red landscape and a city made of metal in the distance. Gerhard’s speed seemed to increase, almost as if he could hear another voice encouraging him to hurry. There was no time. Marto had to stop him.
Taking his shield from his back, the young knight wound up, took a step, and then threw his round shield like a disk, shouting a short, simple prayer in his mind.
“Yondalla, please!”
Striking true, the shield knocked Gerhard’s legs out from under him, continuing to fly on through the now completely open door into whatever hellish landscape was beyond. Dazed, Gerhard started to get up but Marto tackled him down, holding onto his arms.
“No! You cannot go through alone,” he grunted as the two began to struggle. “You don’t leave your friends behind!”
But then Gerhard melted into mist in Marto’s arms and the panic that had started to recede surged back into him as he saw his friend appear on the other side of the doorway. Then it started to close.
“Fuck, he went through!” he shouted and then followed Gerhard into Hell.
Marto returns to his bed and is tracing the curling basket that bears a plethora of fruits, vegetables and grain in its horn. It had been a spur of the moment decision to throw his shield like that but it had worked really well. If only he could have held onto Gerhard though. If only Mister had agreed to let Henri go. If only Henri hadn’t chosen to stay in the Staircase. If only, if only, if only.
“This is your one chance, Marto, and it seems you’re intent on squandering it.”
He closes his eyes, feeling frustrated by this intrusive thought. It was scary to think of Henri’s situation, of how trapped he was. There was a horrible similarity between Gerhard’s and Henri’s circumstances and Marto’s own. But where Marto was, to the best of his knowledge, free to try to find a solution, Henri was not. His consciousness was stuck in the Infinite Staircase. There had to be a way to free him, something out there, an answer, a solution, anything.
But what would finding such an answer do to Gerhard? Would he be able to find the solution in time?
“Nurturing Matriarch… I know Gerhard isn’t one of us but he is a friend. He cannot be alone in this. I would continue to help him, if I can…I know, I have my own devils to deal with-”
He feels a chill run down his spine and the memory of low, rich laughter spills forth. Marto feels a twinge from the mark on his ribs, and a short but sharp pain in his head, right behind his eyes. A small sweat breaks out on his brow but he continues.
“-but he shouldn’t have to face… whatever that Mister creature is, alone.”
He stops and notices the paint has flaked off onto his fingers and he frowns.
“Perhaps it would have been better if I…” But he cannot finish the thought, and wouldn’t finish it.
With a heavy sigh, Marto lays down again, wanting to fall asleep but knowing his mind and his heart are too riled up to let him. When he eventually does, his dreams are fraught with dark forests, the smell of ash, and a familiar voice teasing him from behind every tree.
“Come find me, if you dare…”
Marto had meant those words when he had said them to Gerhard. He believed them, completely and utterly. But if he was being honest with himself now, alone, in the darkness of his room, doubt was curling around the edges of his thoughts as smoke would coil through the air of a burning forest.
Like the dark shadows of a devil whose voice was like liquid caramel, whose laughter made the temptation to just give in already so strong that Marto found himself wishing to hear-
He suddenly gets up from his bed, throwing the covers about so they half drape off the end. Marto goes over to where his equipment rests in the corner, his breathing erratic. He stands in front of the bay and oak reinforced shield his Ma and Pa gave him, the cornucopia painted in vibrant almost childlike colours on it. Slowly reaching out, his fingers brush the peeling paint and his heart constricts a little.
“Gerhard, stop!”
He wasn’t stopping. He kept running headlong, straight for a black metal door that was purposefully moving into the path of the stairs. The others were above them, trying to get Kavel to stop as well. Marto knew Tayz and Derthaad would protect the goliath, so it was up to him to protect Gerhard. But his friend wasn’t stopping, no matter what he shouted.
Then the door opened revealing a red landscape and a city made of metal in the distance. Gerhard’s speed seemed to increase, almost as if he could hear another voice encouraging him to hurry. There was no time. Marto had to stop him.
Taking his shield from his back, the young knight wound up, took a step, and then threw his round shield like a disk, shouting a short, simple prayer in his mind.
“Yondalla, please!”
Striking true, the shield knocked Gerhard’s legs out from under him, continuing to fly on through the now completely open door into whatever hellish landscape was beyond. Dazed, Gerhard started to get up but Marto tackled him down, holding onto his arms.
“No! You cannot go through alone,” he grunted as the two began to struggle. “You don’t leave your friends behind!”
But then Gerhard melted into mist in Marto’s arms and the panic that had started to recede surged back into him as he saw his friend appear on the other side of the doorway. Then it started to close.
“Fuck, he went through!” he shouted and then followed Gerhard into Hell.
Marto returns to his bed and is tracing the curling basket that bears a plethora of fruits, vegetables and grain in its horn. It had been a spur of the moment decision to throw his shield like that but it had worked really well. If only he could have held onto Gerhard though. If only Mister had agreed to let Henri go. If only Henri hadn’t chosen to stay in the Staircase. If only, if only, if only.
“This is your one chance, Marto, and it seems you’re intent on squandering it.”
He closes his eyes, feeling frustrated by this intrusive thought. It was scary to think of Henri’s situation, of how trapped he was. There was a horrible similarity between Gerhard’s and Henri’s circumstances and Marto’s own. But where Marto was, to the best of his knowledge, free to try to find a solution, Henri was not. His consciousness was stuck in the Infinite Staircase. There had to be a way to free him, something out there, an answer, a solution, anything.
But what would finding such an answer do to Gerhard? Would he be able to find the solution in time?
“Nurturing Matriarch… I know Gerhard isn’t one of us but he is a friend. He cannot be alone in this. I would continue to help him, if I can…I know, I have my own devils to deal with-”
He feels a chill run down his spine and the memory of low, rich laughter spills forth. Marto feels a twinge from the mark on his ribs, and a short but sharp pain in his head, right behind his eyes. A small sweat breaks out on his brow but he continues.
“-but he shouldn’t have to face… whatever that Mister creature is, alone.”
He stops and notices the paint has flaked off onto his fingers and he frowns.
“Perhaps it would have been better if I…” But he cannot finish the thought, and wouldn’t finish it.
With a heavy sigh, Marto lays down again, wanting to fall asleep but knowing his mind and his heart are too riled up to let him. When he eventually does, his dreams are fraught with dark forests, the smell of ash, and a familiar voice teasing him from behind every tree.
“Come find me, if you dare…”
