Ch. Six

Ch. Six

A Chapter by Kenny Pomaski

6

            When the driver caught sight of me, he paused, and then suddenly grew increasingly nervous. In the dark, he couldn't make out who I was, and, somewhere in his cautious mind, he begun to fear the worst; a mugger, a drunk, a troublemaker.

            I held a hand up to calm him (which didn't seem to do much of anything for the skittish man), and stopped before the coach, hands outspread from my pockets.

            "I am Tristian Geltz," I said in my most noble of tones. "I believe I have an appointment with your coach."

            He eyed me for a moment, and then asked for me to step into the streetlight. I did and, after a few seconds, he was satisfied, then opened the coach door.

            I entered into the small cabin, sat, and faced Counselor Roarsch.

            "Counselor," I said.

            The cabin was nearly enveloped with darkness, the only light being the slowly darkening hue of the continuing night, and a small scratch of yellow light from a distant gas-lamp. Still, I could make out the Counselor, and his presence was still as intimidating as when we'd first contacted.

            A Magi, as proven by the scarf hanging casually atop his shoulders, and a Counselor, by the shimmering robes that held a light even in the darkness. He was aged, but far from incompetent. One side of his face was openly illuminated, and in it I saw the weathering and collected trials that are age. Yet, there was also power, wisdom, in that pale flesh and present cheekbone. Most relevant, though, was the air of patience that Counselor Roarsch brought with him, a passive yet unsettling quality that stirred images of scolding and doubt.

            The Counselor was silent. Where the light from outside lit his face, I held my eyes to his one; It was a pale, almost colorless eye save the small, gray pupil in it's center, and never did it move as I watched it. Still, though, it seemed to scan me, observing the configuration of my pieces, my loyalties.

            It was odd, creepy even, yet I held out, patient and still, and waited for him to speak.

            Finally, he did; "I see you are unharmed. And the rest of your party?"

            "Alive and well, sir."

            "Good, good."

            Again he went silent, but now his voice seemed to glaze into the dark space of the cabin, echoing subtly with the slow croak of his words, and the dry, lingering finale of his carefully chosen dialect. Oddly, the cabin seemed smaller now, tighter and thinner of air, as if draining away into the sounds of the Counselor.

            My neck suddenly burned, and my palms felt inflated and wet. It was as if I was being accused in these patches of quiet, but I endured.

            When the Counselor had first contacted me, in a coach indifferent to the one we now inhabited, I was not prepared for the presence and style that followed him. I had remained as silent and patient as now, but the angst was far worse. When first he'd talked, I could see only portraits of prison cells and blood, of terror and sadness. I envisioned not only my own death and failure, but my crew's as well. When finally our meeting had concluded, I awaited their coach to depart, then vomited. 

            "The job is performed?" he asked, his lips moistly spacing between words.

            "Yes, Counselor. We found and killed the creature spotted by the balloons, as well as finished marking the northeast coordinates. Outside of the normal beasts and creatures we've fought against, the reconnaissance went routine."

            "And do you have any reports for the cause of these creatures yet?"

            "No, sir. We have no evidence or speculations as to where these creatures are migrating, or birthing, from."

            He nodded, slowly. "And what of the North? Have there been any peculiarities in the region you've noticed? Persons? Things?"

            "Nothing that I have not already reported to other Lamberdine officials. There are structures that indicate civilization, except they are long abandoned. No persons, records or recent activity have either been found or occurred during our reconnaissances."

            That was a lie, but I convinced myself otherwise as I awaited the Counselor's response. Though it was a paranoid thought, I could not dismiss the idea that the Counselor could simply know things, things that we're untold but present on the mind. Everything about the cold, intimidating man seemed unnatural, far more so then him simply being a Magi; there was something special, something dark and powerful, in those pale eyes.

            After another bout of silence, a small twitch, something of a smile, occurred on the corner of his lip.

            "Very well. I will have a messenger contact you tomorrow night about another job. He'll come to this tavern for you."

            "It is appreciated, Counselor, and, on behalf of my crew, we are honored."

            "Of course," he whispered. "Speak to the driver now. He has the rest of your payment."

            "Thank you, Counselor."

            I pressed open the door and exited, then suddenly began to shiver intensely.

            How much colder could it have possibly gotten? I went to rub my arms, and found they were wet.

            Suddenly, I realized why I was shivering; I was covered in sweat.




© 2011 Kenny Pomaski



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Added on July 1, 2011
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Author

Kenny Pomaski
Kenny Pomaski

NJ



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I'm a writer who wants nothing more then to be a writer. Name is Kenny Pomaski. I'm 20, and have been writing seriously for nearly five years (Though I've been writing stories my whole life). The b.. more..

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A Chapter by Kenny Pomaski