Vesper: A Fictional Narrative

“I don’t know” Phoenix smiled back “I was hoping maybe you’d stay up here with me while I go through some of it so I’m not by myself in case something goes wrong”

They finished their dinner, sat around the fire staring at each other through the flame of the fire. One of the noticed that their food supplies are getting low but they didn't say anything to the rest if the group.

The only sound I could here was Zac’s footsteps going down the stairs. It wasn't to long after he quietly came rushing up the stairs.

Hanna told the girls, “ Okay, you have strawberries, boneless chicken wings, lobster. Look! They're behind the ham. “

“Not well. I kept dreaming about last night. I can’t believe this is happening. It’s like this is one big nightmare that will never end.”

During morning combat training with the other knights, Perceval was so distracted by his anxiety over asking Will for Joan’s hand in marriage that one of the prospective knights landed a solid mace blow to Perceval’s gut. Perceval stood on the field and shook off the blow with a laugh as if it was nothing, but now, standing in his chambers with a cold cloth pressed against his bruised abdomen, he felt even more nauseated. Now he had to contend with an injury and Joan’s father. This was going to be a rough day.

Perceval completed his morning patrol and changed from his knight’s garb. He knew he should wait until that evening to see Joan, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to kiss her cheek and tell her he loved her. It would only take a moment, and then Joan could return to her tavern work.

Perceval was not willing to share the gorier details of battle with Joan, as he didn’t want to burden her with the often grotesque and horrifying images associated with combat. It was difficult enough for him to contend with such visions.

Fleur gave a small frown. “I feel bad for the woman. I hope she can find happiness one day.”

“Do you remember anything from before you woke the first time.” She thought for a few minutes.

"I'm solid with a sword. Not great, but fair. And I'm strong, thanks to my size. That's about it, I suppose."

    “Why not? He just wants to fight a lot -- he loves his family -- he’s really good!”

“Hello Georgia, this is Miss. Raliff again and I wanted to let you know that we are all set and ready for you to go to Rome the fight leaves at 2:00 today hope to see you then.”

Staring at the ceiling with a distant, catatonic gaze, the corpse’s eyes seemed to have a glassy appearance. Its mouth hung just slightly ajar in a lazy, almost relieved state, and the pale flesh still seeped with droplets of sweat that ran down along the clammy skin. It was a familiar sight to to the Khanid; a lifeless carcass that retained its death stare. However, what was most unnerving to him was the fact that the body mirrored his own, down to the small pock marks in the facial features from acne as a teenager.

“We can’t go back. What will happen next? Is this a dream? Do my parents know I’m gone?”