I don't understand
your interest in this 'Wanderer', but I will recount the time I
crossed paths with him.
I had been watching
the grey horizon from atop Old Quebec's walls when I sensed his
presence. I didn't know what to make of it. He radiated power, but it
felt empty, almost absent. I turned and headed towards the source of
the strange power, only to find him sitting against the outer wall
with his head down. I drew my weapon and let my thundering powers
rage forth.
“You there!” I
cried out defensively. “Who are you and why have you come here?”
He lifted his head
and I saw nothing but dread in his face. I let my powers recede and
stepped forth, hoping for an answer.
“My name,” he
said with an exhaustion greater than the desolate world's, “is Kuna
Zero...” He paused and met my stare with eyes of swirling torment.
“I am the Wanderer.”
That was when I
noticed an empty sheathe by his ragged side. “You had a blade. What
happened to it?”
He broke
eye-contact and focused strongly on the grey horizon. “I lost it.”
He said after a long silence.
“So you're
looking for it?” I asked. He stood up silently and walked past me
into the walled city without so much as glancing at me. He was the
first person I had come across in such a long time that I did not
want to lose him so quickly. I ran up beside him and joined him in
his walk through my desolate home.
“You are alone
here.” He noted with his eyes fixed on the grey horizon.
“Yes.” I
answered. “Even the demons left with the others. It was before the
Fall. They haven't returned.”
“They're dead.
The sceptre of tyranny misses no one.” He said bitterly, referring
to something I was unfamiliar with. I wanted to ask, but his tone
told me it was best left unknown.
I followed him to
the spot I stood in when I first felt his presence. He overlooked the
grey horizon with an aura of gloom surrounding him. His silence almost made
him disappear into the grey. I stared at him as if a single blink of the eye would make him vanish forever. My gaze kept falling to his
empty sheathe. He was a void greater than the grey itself.
“What happened?”
I broke the silence.
He turned his head
slightly towards me. “We failed...” His head dropped. His fists
clenched.
I felt compelled by
my spirit to ask, “why do you wander?”
He spun around and
walked past me. “I'm running away...” He admitted as he came to a
sudden halt a meter or so away.
“From what?” I
questioned further.
“Myself.”
Silence followed
for a long while. We stood there as if turned to marble. He sighed
heavily and turned towards me. His eyes were brighter than I had ever
seen them, although it was nothing more than a speck of light, a lone
star in the black sky.
“I have to go.”
He told me as his eyes grew distant. It was as if he was looking
right through my soul.
“Where will you
go?” I questioned, worried that I would never come across another
person again.
“You are a spirit
of lightning and thunder.” He stated in reply. Then he grabbed his
empty sheathe with his right hand. “I was once of Fire. But I am
lost in this grey...” He paused and let his fingers release. “And
I must wander until I feel the light on my skin once more.”
“So you go to
find yourself?” I inquired.
His gaze shifted to
the sky and he shook his head. “'Return, oh Wanderer, when the day
of clouds is over.'” He paused. “That was told to me by an old
friend when I abandoned him.”
“So you're
waiting for all this to end?” I felt frustration boiling up within
me at his perpetual inaction. He nodded solemnly. Lightning began to
cackle out from my body, shocking the ground around his feet. He
returned his gaze to me. Then I spoke. “Wanderer, I don't know
you, nor do I know what lies in your past, but I can feel the great
shadow of your power. It looms over that damned grey. Awaken your
flames, damn it, and find a way to bring back the sun! Do not wait
for fate to do it for you! Make your own fate!”
His gaze fell away
again. His fists tightened, his right brushing up against his
sheathe. A breeze whispered by. “Farewell.” He said through his
teeth. Then he spun around and walked away, blending with the
surroundings like a ghost of days past.
That is the last I
ever saw or heard of him until you showed up. I wonder where he is
now...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Above, as you must have noticed, is a short story based very heavily on the in-between of "Kuna Zero: A Wanderer's Tale" and "The Beginning of The End", when Kuna is wandering the world in self-imposed exile. I have written a few stories titled "Encounters with the Wanderer" which are all written from the perspective of someone outside of Kuna, who only hears what other people have said about him.
The reason I am posting this, however, is because I have decided to write "The Beginning of The End" for NaNoWriMo this year instead of a new novel. So, to get myself back into the novel's world (not that I ever truly left it), I will be typing up and posting the three short stories written so far every five days up until November 1st, when I can begin my novel once more.
I am excited to begin NaNoWriMo, even though it does not mean a new novel for me to write. In fact, I am even more excited, as this novel is far more thought out and ingrained in me than any of the others have been. Moreover, "The Beginning of The End" very well may be the only novel that does not concern itself with love and romance. Considering it is technically my oldest novel (not including the lost version of "Kuna Zero: A Wanderer's Tale" from 2007), it is rather amusing to think that it is the change of pace from my usual style.
But that is enough for tonight. Until next time,
-Zero
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