Visions
He was here.
Andre knew the place but grappled with the exact name and place. A bedroom. A bedroom without personal effects. Without clothes, trinkets, perfume bottles, or anything that would indicate a normal person abiding there. There were troubling things there, however. Loose papers decorated in some unintelligible scrawl. Medicine bags, some closed, some open. Cold instruments of that profession lay about, however organized in straight rows. Andre shuddered. An unidentifiable guilt burdened his heart. As if he was responsible for this. His eyes traced over to a bed, the only bed in the large room. A large bed veiled in semi transparent satin, stirred by an unknown wind. There was a shape on the bed. A body. With steps slowed by fear, Andre approached it. His hand drifted up and parted the curtain and he knelt by the body. A woman. Her face was pale, but beautiful, lying in a curling mass of cold blonde hair. Her body was thin and nude underneath the white satin sheets. Tears moistened Andre's cheeks, as he feel in his heart that he knew this beautiful woman� He hesitantly reached out and touched her cheek with his rough hand. The eyes fluttered open, a deep and nightly blue, "Andre?" she asked. He blinked his eyes free of the tears, "Yes, my lady?" She held him in her gaze with understanding, "You do not remember�" He took his hand away, ashamed, "No, I do not�" Her slender hand took his, "It's alright, Andre, it's alright." Her touch and her free forgiveness nearly crushed his very soul. But in it a very glimmer of understanding. Gripping her hand, he said, "But I know this, even if I can't remember it, I know this�" She sat up, her other hand on the back of his neck, almost embracing him, "What is that?" His green eyes met her abyssal blues, "I've loved you, haven't I�" he asked her, "I still do�" Her lips quivered and a lonely tear fell on their hands. "Of all the things that you have forgotten, you haven't forgotten that, my love�" The name came unbidden, "Lara�" And he knew, it was his love. His wife. The mother of his child. Broken memories came to him, always of her. And he sat there in her embrace, for a time. She rested her chin on the top of his head, her gentle hand in his hair, absently stroking it. Her hand came up and touched his lips, "I'm sorry." The apology surprised Andre, "What?" She released him and laid back down, "I'm so sorry, Andre� So sorry�" Andre caught her hand, "Lara? What is it? Why are you�. Why are you sorry?" She smiled and closed her tearful eyes. And Andre felt alone for a while. He looked at the hateful images around him, the instruments and the notes� Another hand fell on top of his and Lara's� "Andre�" he asked, "Is she alright?" He knew that voice. He would always know it. There was warmth in it� Even now, Andre saw, he has his mother's eyes� "Talen�" By Theus, he's grown. "It's makes sense that you're here," Talen glanced about his surroundings, "You only took me here once� But it was enough�" Only once, Andre thought. Why had Talen only seen her once? "Odd, now," Talen said, "You don't look like I remember you, teacher," he took his hand away, Andre made a sloppy attempt to grasp it. Talen took a step back. He took in the scar atop Andre's head, his vagabond clothing� "Son� Don't leave." Andre stood. Talen stayed, but unsure. Andre stood a head taller than his son, his build much heavier than the youth's. Andre straightened to his full height, something that he rarely did any more. The glimpses that he had ever gotten of his son in Frieburg never did him justice to what he was seeing now. He could already see his features in Talen's face, but his dark hair came down in strands from underneath a tied piece of fabric. Oddly, his son looked more like a topman than a thief, now. His feet were bare, his pants torn, wearing a shirt that was a couple of sizes too big. There was a curious ring on a silver chain around his neck. There was a mean knife to his side. And those eyes� Andre was reminded of Maurice, his own tutor, a would have been father-in-law. Talen's grandfather. Not only were they the Circe family blue, but the intelligence there� "I know I don't look like much, now, Andre, but I'm trying�" Talen said, as if reading his mind. His voice started Andre. Talen spoke to him in Castillian, but there was more than a trace of Eisen in his young voice. "I've fallen in with some people now, they're alright, but�" Talen looked to the floor, "I haven't forgotten you, Andre, I still remember�" Talen's eyes grew hard, "I still remember�" Andre was speechless. "It's been tough, though, its been real tough�" Talen looked down at his bare feet. Anything. Andre wanted to say anything. But the words wouldn't come. He just looked into his son's face, striving to memorize every feature, every imperfection� But to speak a word to him� "I could� I could have used your advice at times, I've tried to think of what you would do sometimes� Sometimes not, though�" Talen hesitated. Andre placed a hand on Talen's shoulder. But his mouth was dry and trembling. It felt so real. The rough fabric, the coldness in the chain as it glanced his thumb, the warmth of a living shoulder� Talen seemed grateful for the hand. "I've done some terrible things, though� Things I'm sure that you wouldn't have done in my place, but�" Andre knelt down, wanting to say something, anything� Talen met his eyes, "I'm going to do better. I promise you. I'll be someone that you'll be proud of�" There was strength in those eyes� Resolve. The Castillian could not even move. He was torn; his love for seeing his son again, his regrets for not being there when he was needed, his guilt for not being able to shield his only child from the very darkness in the world� And the pride, the pride that Andre felt for his son for being strong enough to endure all of these things without him. "I hope." And Talen looked away as if called, and was gone. Andre's hand fell to the ground as the apparition of his son vanished. There was a solid thunk as something hit the floor. Andre grasped it immediately. A ring. Talen's ring. A wondrous device was inset in the contemporary place of a stone. An eight pointed star� "My son�" And he wept into his hands.Return to Uncommon Valor