Arrival part 2 WIP

It was early morning, the Waking moon barely giving way to its sister sun. The small party, still rowing hard against the tossing surf, guided their boat between the treacherous reefs surrounding the isle. The island was small, barely large enough it seemed, to house the abbey rising from its center. A small ring of woodlands surrounded the stone-walled structure, and the island was further ringed by a thin line of beach. The morning sun shone on the white sands, almost blinding the quartet as they managed the last few waves. Vael slipped over the edge, and into one of the small tide pools, pulling the boat the rest of the way, to lodge it in the shallows. Erth, still at odds with the depth of the pools, leapt to a sandy spot, and, in the same way, made his way to the beach, leaping quickly across the pools. Ever the gentleman, Zellot assisted Indira on to the dry ground, smiling, as he had been ever since she had chosen to come.
Vael turned to regard their return trip. The rock passage had been, by far, the most frightening part of the venture. Having left the caverns with only the few preparations that they could make, he had been doubtful that this place existed, let alone whether they could reach it in their tiny craft. Then, as soon as the shore had dropped out of sight, the horizon was replaced by a mountain range, two in fact, that left them with a narrow channel, at times barely able to navigate safely. Zellot had continued to watch the sky, now a narrow band of light far above them, the rock walls draping them in shadows, and then widening out, leaving them, as he put it, “sitting ducks”. The trip had been uneventful, though. Erth, hating every moment that they were in open water, ran his hands along the gigantic rock formations, as if communing. He had also sworn that he saw a shape beneath them, in the darker depths, but nothing had come of it.
Now, as the party reformed on the beach, looking up the unkempt path that led to the abbey, Vael wondered again what answers they were supposed to find here. He moved forward, albeit slowly, given the terrain; sandy ridges were quickly giving way to scrub grasses and now, as they trudged deeper into the grasslands, they encountered larger rocks and bushes. If there truly were inhabitants up their in the walled abbey, they didn’t tend their paths well at all. Indira, still quiet, followed him, wrapping herself in her green robe so as not to snag it on brambles or rocks. Behind her came Erth, letting the path that the larger folk made dictate where he walked, Vael had noticed, for the first time ever, that the young gnome was holding something in each hand, rubbing what looked like rocks together. Further behind, Zellot crept up the path in their wake, still covered in black from boot to hood, despite the sun’s rising heat. His crossbow was out and ready, although Vael had not seen or heard a single reason for weapons. It was peaceful, Vael thought, as perhaps a deserted isle holding an abbey should be. He smiled, and wasn’t sure why, in the midst of all that they were trying to accomplish, he should be smiling. Perhaps his return to the woods, he thought. This place did seem to remind him of better times.
Zellot cursed, startling the group’s calm progress. “Something’s out there, watching us. I feel it.” He was scanning the underbrush around them, the trees giving nothing back in return for his fervor. He cursed again, this time at the futility. The group proceeded in silence, and with the sun rising higher in the sky, they reached the wall that surrounded the massive abbey. Clearly, the place was not as impregnable as it had looked from the beach. The outer wall was spotted with holes, and the creeping vines and tree roots had uprooted the foundation in many places. The gate, however, was still quite sturdy, and Erth, moving off to the side, found a sizeable gap that they could fit through. As Vael slipped though, he got his first sight of the abbey proper. At least four stories tall, the ancient old building seemed to be in far less disrepair than the grounds themselves. A combination of wood and stone, it had an air of formality and clearly had been, and would be there for quite some time. The bell, housed somewhere far above them, rang once, loudly and clearly, as his foot touched the cobblestones of the inner grounds.
************
As usual, the quiet inside the abbey bothered him. Stepping from his tiny cell, he greeted the morning sun with his usual grin. Another day, much like the last. He walked slowly down the arched hall, his black robe swishing about his bare feet. It was his only possession, patched in many places, but broken in and warm when he was cold, cool on the hot days like those he and the other monks had been enduring. The rest of the brothers were either deep in their meditations or still asleep, which quite frankly, was much the same thing to him. He walked to the end of the stone corridor, and turned out on to the second floor balcony to properly greet the morning.

more WIP

…So it happened, after the rain, as things of that sort often do. I like to think that we both had a good time, but, as these things go, I’ll probably never know for sure. I gave it my best effort. I walked her home in the morning, as it was only a couple of blocks away, and got my first look at her living space. I suppose that is one of those things that a guy should consider before he goes and spends the night with a girl that he actually seems to like, but, as we walked up to her door, I shrugged mentally, and probably physically, and acted as if the thought had never crossed my mind. Because it hadn’t.

And then I realized what had been bothering me all along. It wasn’t that she wasn’t quirky, or intelligent, or pretty, it was that she was all of those, and it had been driving my crazy, although, in my estimation, a fairly happy kind of crazy. She was the kind of girl who didn’t mind that her underwear was all over when you saw her “place” as she called it, for the first time. She was also the sort that had her cds everywhere. And while I’m no vinyl bigot, I do abide by the “keep your cds in their cases” rule. I’m also not saying that I hated the underthingies all over, but it does make a guy wonder about certain issues.

You can tell a lot about a woman, or person, for that matter, by their underwear and music collection. From a quick scan around, there were several matching sets, which, according to the myths that I subscribe to, was a good sign. Also, she did have her burned copies, labeled “Dido” and “Son Volt” right next to each other. This brought High Fidelity to mind, and I wanted to ask her how she was categorizing and hope for some either asinine or ridiculously cute answer, but couldn’t bring myself to bite that proverbial bullet. Instead, I stood there, mute, while she skittered about the main room, clearly not sure what we were supposed to do here, but not telling me to leave…

“I need to get to work, soon, so, I should probably run.” I’d never been a fan of awkward pauses.

“Ah, ok,” she returned, smiling up from the rumpled bed where she had finally seated herself. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to take that as “ok come over here” or “ok get the fuck out”, so I did a quick dance, a two step of sorts, 1, 2 and back. She was clearly nonplussed. I backed out the still open door, and into the hall of the strangely communal place she was living in. At my quizzical look, she replied, “it used to be a hotel”. I mentally translated “hotel” to “brothel”, and reminded myself that I had work to get to.

She bit her lip, which actually may have torn open my chest and held my throbbing heart in front of me, had I not already been committed to the walk towards the front door, and then smiled and said, “come by any time” to my retreating form.

“Sure.” I managed, as I turned the corner to the main stairs, and got out of earshot. Home. That was what I needed, now. Work could wait, at least for the few minutes it would take to get me under the influence of some coffee. The morning was still flush with last night’s rainstorm. I was still pretty flushed as well…