Arin sat starring into the fire. The biting wind whipped around them as they held their cloaks close. Gilbred sat directly across form him keeping his eyes on him at all time. He had a grimace on his face since he took him captive. It had been hours since either had moved. Arin just sat down in the dirt and Gilbred built the fire, they both settled as much as either could around the other.

It had just been Gilbred’s luck to stumble across a wayward Remnant. He’d hoped this would play an integral part in restoring him as Judge. It was that fact that troubled Arin so. He shifted first. Arin leaned forward starring into the sand, it was coarse and dusty, barren. Gilbred watched him tenaciously as he reached out his fingers. The wind had died down for a few moments, he wrote in the sand. And He will deliver us from the gnashing teeth of our devourers, and the scorching flames of their bellies. It was a Psalmanir. Gilbred tried to read it but the flames blocked his view.

Just before Gilbred stood a mighty gust blew across the plains and caused him to clutch his cloak tighter. Arin watched as the message was carried away in the wind, but in its place new words were formed. As if the wind were writing them they appeared, I am Deliverer. Arin’s heart caught. Then a second later the same wind carried them away.

Gilbred stood up when the torrent passed. Their eyes met, Gilbred’s burned but Arin’s were unaffected. He simply looked with a doleful expression on his face then looked back into the fire.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on up there, or what you might have planned but there’s nothing out there within miles that’s gonna stop me from taking you back so the Priests can pass judgment. Got it?” he jabbed his finger in Arin’s face.

Arin felt his flesh rise up, “Judges are supposed to be the faceless right hand of Sendiil, void of human em.”

Gilbred struck Arin with his armored fist. His head slumped has his hands cradle the wound. Conviction crept it and Arin whispered to himself, “Forgive me Lord.”

“You know nothing of Sendiil, you’ve been stripped of His mercy and grace, my loyalty is simply being tested,” he gathered himself never relieving the grimace and feeling like he didn’t owe any lowly vessel explanation.

Gilbred glanced around into the Miasma, and when it returned there was a weary travelers expression. His grimace returned as he settled across from Arin again. Arin wiped the blood off his face gently and laid with his back to the fire and Gilbred to get some rest. The travel would be continue to be merciless and the weather wasn’t the only thing against them in this country. Gilbred glared at the cradled figure, he didn’t understand anything about him. He especially didn’t understand the attitude Arin had conveyed from the beginning. Either way he was going to see justice in the end for Arin, and for the Priest who had stripped him of his mantle.


About moorewriting

I am a man of many passions. God, my wife, and writing are just a few. I want to share with you humanity through literature. My two blogs are Sword in Hand and Real Time Religion. View all posts by moorewriting

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