Twenty-five – 05

I excused myself from the company by the fire a few minutes later, saying something about checking the wards and walls now that it was light enough to do it.  Thom tried to protest, but one look silenced him.  He knew the look well—it was the look I gave him when I needed a little time to myself.

The vision and what Neve said about the Ridden Druid—Ciar, Brighid’s beloved brother—had left me more unsettled than I cared to admit aloud.  I’d never considered the possibility of possession, but now I suddenly had to face it because it had happened once before.

The soul my brother’s got once shared a body with some kind of deity or spirit—whatever the hell Cernunnos really was.  I made a mental note to ask Phelan about that later as I headed back to my room.

Thom and I had talked months ago about writing down what we’d seen.  I’d balked, but he was right—we needed to document it somehow, even if doing it was a terrifying prospect.  I kept my journal beneath our mattress.  I’m sure Thom knew it was there, just like I knew that he kept his tucked into a leather satchel in the corner of Matt’s forge.  We’d promised each other not to read those journals of visions without permission.  I didn’t have his permission yet and he didn’t have mine, either.

Married or no, vows or no, we had to have some secrets, even from each other.

I needed to get mine now so I could write down what I’d seen before the details faded.  Every piece of what I’d seen could have significance, importance.  I had no chance of stopping anything from happening if I couldn’t remember what I’d initially seen.

I’m not going to let that happen to Thordin.  I can’t.

I shivered at the memory of the man in white and his laughter.

I needed to talk to Phelan badly.

After, I promised myself as I ducked into my room to get the journal.  Get it all down, then you can talk to him about it.

I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, sliding my hand beneath the mattress, fingers questing until they closed around the journal’s leather-bound spine.  It had been stuffed into the bottom of my duffle bag, the one that I’d planned on lugging along with me when I headed east back in August, back before all of this had happened, before the end of the world.

This wasn’t in our plans, but I can’t imagine life any other way now.

I almost laughed as I clutched the journal to my chest.  I must have broken somewhere along the way, just like the world had.

We all said this was our normal now, but I’d never realized that I actually believed that.

I allowed myself a quiet chuckle and then headed for the wall.

Liked it? Take a second to support Erin on Patreon!
Become a patron at Patreon!
This entry was posted in Book 4, Chapter 25, Story, Winter. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Twenty-five – 05

  1. “this was our normal now” A rather unsettling thought. It would be scary and frightening to have visions that may be all too accurate. I hope I never experience something like that.

    Thanks for the new post.

Got thoughts?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.