A mad wind gusted through the crags of cold stone here and the furs of his clothing and cloak ruffled as it passed through them. He pushed back the fur line of his hood and viewed the blank wilderness of the plains below him along the mountainside. Here the winds were high and moving fast. The tips of tall trees wavered in the continued gusts. To his left a bird spread his wings on the winds and flowed down to meet the black-haired man. The hooded crow, belly grey and chest black with feathers, landed gracefully on the shoulder of the man and ruffled his feathers as he regained his balance.
The crow turned his head back and forth, looking out to dull afternoon horizon just as he did. "Do you know what you expect to find here, Theon?" the bird croaked in a raspy voice.
The man he'd called Theon did not take his eyes from the sporadic tree line. A hand idly landed on the pommel of the sword at his side, the sword that never left his side if he had anything to say about that. "No. No, I don't, Jouzan. But I suppose anywhere is better than nowhere," Theon said through the loose rocks of the mountain path.
He wasn't that familiar with the terrain but he knew that he liked the atmosphere of the western mountains here in Darken Vei. There was a strange, mystical, almost enchanting atmosphere here in this land of seemingly vast nothingness. Forests were scarce and the spaces between cities, even scarcer. He hadn't traveled much throughout the province but the fact that there was a scarcity of deep water here, well that was enough for him. He could handle the shallow, rushing streams that passed through these crevices, for they were thinner and easily passable and as long as he didn't stare headlong into the water, he was okay.
It had been a long, drawn out two months that he'd traveled since he'd first arrived in Cerenis. The atmospheres of cities seemed too busy for him and he needed the seclusion nature offered. It wasn't that he needed to hide or protect himself. He had a feeling he could do that himself easily enough. It was more in the need to collect himself, to try and figure out where to start. This was a strange land to him and because he could remember nothing of the place he'd been before, of where he must have been, all he could do was take in what came before him. He knew things, things he didn't understand how he knew or why. But that didn't change the fact that perhaps there was someone who may able to help him discern his condition, to show him something that he didn't know about himself, and perhaps someone who was even able to unwrap the nature of his visions.
Rumors were dangerous things to follow, but Theon listened when people spoke and learned that some of the most notable mages emerged from the province of cold and vastness to the northwest—Darken Vei. The first direction led him as far west as Fallial before he turned north and began to travel along the mountains. The person he sought was a mage, a seer of somekind that might be able offer aid of some kind. Theon had no way of knowing whether his journey would be fruitful. Or if it was all in vain. Not even the visions that cast themselves before his eyes made any sense, for often they were unclear and cryptic. Showing him things he knew he had no way of understanding.
Theon watched his step where he found the rocks slippery and stopped when the ground flattened out slightly. It wasn't much but it was just enough to stand on and get a better look out at the road below. But something flashed before his eyes as if it were lightning and his eyes turned white as he was taken aback. Theon clutched at his eyes harshly, gritting his teeth as the scenery of the mountains came before his eyes. And below him a road with the sound of hooves clashing madly and wild neighing as horses clashed down the road. Behind them a carriage creaked and rumbled as it was pulled along by the pair of blood bays. The driver at the front rapped the reins forcefully onto the horses backs as they ran headlong through the road. Up ahead, there was a massive gap in the road and a series of broken ropes and snapped tethers and the sounds of snapped wood and boards resounded in Theon's ears. The road was cut across between two mountains and had been connected by a bridge, one that had been snapped through by something that could not be borne.
The carriage twisted and rolled a little as one side went over a bump in the dirt. And Theon swallowed hard, gasping a little as the horses raced on ahead down the road, around the bend and suddenly tried to make a stop just as they hit the gap. Hooves skid on loose stone and dirt as they tried to stop only too late. The sudden stop and another unprepared bump made the carriage crack a wheel and roll on its side. Rolling over violently, the driver was crushed underneath the weight of steel and wood and bloodied, cut and bruised horseflesh as the steeds screamed before going over the edge. The carriage too was dragged along with it and Theon could hear the cries of those inside it as they went along with them. Echoing down a long drop—silence, silence as they met oblivion below.
Theon fell back a little as the vision cleared his sights. And he remained still for several breaths trying to take it all in. The visions...they'd never been so clear before or so detailed. And frankly he found that deeply unnerving. His hands were shaking and he looked up at Jouzan who returned a black beady-eyed gaze before taking flight. Theon's sight followed the bird as he swooped low and suddenly his eyes landed still upon a road. A road that looked so very similar to the one in his vision. His heart leapt into his throat and he heard the echo of horses neigh not too far to the south. Skull swiveled in that direction. "No," he breathed.
And his heart beat so much faster now as he spotted a carriage racing down the road, two horses galloping as fast as they could at the persistence of the driver. Theon stood up immediately, clutching the handle of Lohengrin and made a race for the bottom of the cliffside where he had stood. The rocks threatened to tumble him but speed was of the essence. He got down to the side of the road, on a slanted bank just as the carriage made to pass him. "Stop!" he yelled as loudly as he could. "Stop!"
And he made a leap for the side of the carriage, landing on the side by the door and suddenly hanging on for dear life as the horses, spooked by his yelling only pressed on faster. But he wouldn't let go, he couldn't! Not even if his life depended on it. Whoever was riding in this carriage, whoever was foolish enough to go this fast on a mountain road without being able to see clear ahead, didin't deserve to die like this. For what good were visions, if he could do nothing about them. He would not let this one go to waste.
