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Posted on June 9, 2010 at 02:13:26 AM by Alexi
 Alexi glares into the early morning sunlight, his brow furrowed in thought. He can’t understand how he ended up doing this. This menial task, designed for those who the core couldn’t use in any other way. How could Rushad let his building expertise go to waste, how could they think that he couldn’t help with something requiring a little more skill? It’s a beautiful morning, which doesn’t help. There’s birds pecking at dead things floating above the flooded land, the early sunlight only bringing out these details all the more clearly, which he doesn’t mind, but he likes destruction to be caused by him. These birds could be shot, if they’d let him take his crossbow with him. It was good to be out, though. The core, and his tiny son Christoph’s apparent fascination with the decrepit castle, were getting to him. Making him resort to visiting Paddy for his kicks because the girls were busy being useful. Making him regret saving his son. Making him realise that whatever changes had be wrought in him by the ability to love, they couldn’t override the attraction of pure pain. Couldn’t stop him being able to hate too. Sometimes he got confused with the two, love and hate. What was so very different between them, anyway? Both of them find their reason in every facet of the abhorred or the adored. Abhor, adore, abhor, adore, the words swirled around in his head and he blinked, screwing up his eyes against the sunlight and glancing at the girl. Despite her glares earlier, she seems happy enough, getting the hang of it all about as fast as he had when he’d first sailed. Boats were a good means of transportation when he was young, living on the island as he did, and he still used them to get bulkier things over from the mainland. However, since the advent of wings it’d been a while since he’d just sat in one, using nature as his guide. It was like putting on old clothes – nice in that they are soft and warm, but carrying memories which maybe are best forgotten. He’d been in boats with girls before. Alyson. Immie. Others, too. Rosa, Elaia, Miri. The names echoed in his head and he remembered how Miri had disappeared after the flood, the thought tugging the corners of his mouth down. Rushad had cared about her. It was a shame that she’d gone, like that, but a land like this one, wrecked and only expecting more disasters – it wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. He notices that the girl isn’t holding the map anymore and glances around for it, loathe to break the silence. Does she know where they’re going? He knows the land, sure, although he’d grown up on the island so he wasn’t all that comfortable, especially with all the familiar landmarks gone. He almost doesn’t bother, but then the idea presents itself to his mouth, all fully formed and the words are growled out in his burnt up voice: Where’d you put the map? He stares at her for half a second, realising that her hair isn’t the same colour that it was when they set out, and then he turns back to look away. She’s got powers – proper ones, not like what the fates had dished out to him. He couldn’t be less interested in her, except that her future seems uncertain, wavering. Is she going to stay with them, helping like this, when she could be out changing things, breaking things, doing what she wants? When do you want to start fishing? How we going to do this? He tries a slightly charming smile on her, but stops quickly. From the few thoughts he’s gleaned from her mind, she doesn’t seem that type. A L E X I
dont hold your head too high;
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