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"Devon and Damien"Chapter 6: Act 1
The sounds of thunder echoed through the night with momentous fervor, almost as if God Himself had something to prove. The capital city, Loria, was hardly ever a booming center of sociality anyway, so the presence of storms simply brought the people another excuse to stay in their homes. The First General of Hessea gazed out into the night, the rain on his window partially obstructing his vision. As Devon Tristam slowly sipped his cup of tea, he felt fairly appreciative of the fact that he was inside and comfortable. He attempted to think of what his day would bring tomorrow, but the combined noise of thunder and pouring rain was simply too much for his brain to handle. At times, he felt disappointed with his position, for he knew he would be engaging more in politicking and appeasing sniveling bureaucrats than in actual military work. Devon could not complain, however; he realized that any job brought a little stress and mediocrity. Still, he smiled… for his work was not the primary subject on his mind. A sigh of relief escaped Devon's lips as he sank into his favorite chair, engulfed by the warmth of the crackling logs in the fireplace. Comfort had evaded him the entire day; now was his moment to grasp it. He sat for a few moments, just enjoying the relaxation that sitting brought. “Agabus,” he asked, turning to his companion. “Have you ever been glad that a day had ended, yet also excited that the next would come soon?” Agabus remained silent, only tilting his head slightly. “Of course not,” Devon muttered, picking up his friend. “You’re a cat… all you have to do is chase a few mice, eat, and sleep. Not much required of you, huh?” The grayish-white feline let out a timid meow and squirmed to extricate himself from his master’s grasp. Devon gave him a quick pat and released him. After pausing for a moment, Devon picked up a gold-plated book off the floor and opened the front cover. With a smile, he read the inscription: “To my angel, with all the love that one person could ever give another. I pray that this book will only strengthen our love for each other! - Your ‘Forever Beloved,’ Joanna.” He chuckled at the title of the book, The Rose and Her Thorn, wondering if she was trying to tell him something. He knew he did not really have a desire to read the book, but he also knew he bound himself, by his promise, to finish it by their wedding day. With a combined laugh and sigh, he turned to the first chapter. Thanks to the continual sounds of thunder and rain, he did not even notice the knocking at his door. When he finally did notice, he was somewhat relieved. He closed the book and lightly tossed it in his chair, shouting to the door, “Just one moment!” After making sure that he had his dagger as a precaution, Devon opened the door… to find no one there. Instinctively, he drew his dagger, stepping slightly outside. “Hello?” he asked, knowing his voice was barely audible over the storm. Devon thought he could barely distinguish a figure of some sort in the distance. He blinked several times in an attempt to discern the existence of the figure, but the darkness of the night prevented him. “Anyone out there?” He yelled. Upon further observation, Devon could no longer ascertain a figure in the distance. Figuring his mind to be playing tricks on him, he breathed heavily and turned back inside, ready to attribute the knocking at his door to neighborhood children playing a prank on him. Unfortunately, he let his guard down as he closed the door, leaving him totally unprepared for the force of the blow he received as the door swung open, knocking him to the floor. As Devon rose to his feet, he came face to face with the barrel of a revolver aimed directly at his face. “Greetings, General Tristam,” the assailant said calmly, a smile forming on his face.Devon and his new “ally” rode towards Vato in silence, the former wrestling once more with his feelings for Joanna. After the circumstances leading to their departing five years earlier, he had finally convinced himself that such was his “lot in life” and had, consciously or not, determined to act as callous and bitter toward the situation as he could. When someone mentioned the Princess of Hessea, he would make a concerted effort to put any thought of her as far from his mind as he could. In regards to the events of five years earlier, perhaps Devon felt “defeated”; among other things, his pride had sustained damage. How could he, First General of Hessea, receive this sort of treatment? As a response, Devon built up a wall, figuratively speaking – a wall that he had spent the last five years constructing and strengthening, all in an attempt to prove that he had not actually been “defeated.” He would tell his friend Faddon, “It has all made me a better person… a stronger person.” However, as stated earlier, all that resulted was Devon’s growing resentment towards life in general, especially towards God. Despite continued efforts, however, Devon could not harbor bitter thoughts towards Joanna herself for long. As fortified a “wall” as he had built over the last five years, why did he find himself once still enamored by her? His promise to her to find the assassin and his confession to Faddon that he would still die for her baffled him a little. He still wanted to hold her… he wanted to touch her soft cheeks and know that the two of them would never part. He often wondered about the choice that he made that night, and the ultimatum that resulted. What if he had chosen differently? “Was mine the choice of a coward?” he had asked himself an innumerable amount of times. This question, more than anything else, had haunted his mind and his dreams the last five years. He had often thought of telling her… telling her everything. But something held him back. The workings of the human mind, as well as a man’s actions and motives, are often irrational, multi-faceted, and seemingly contradictory. Such was the case with Devon Tristam. One could not narrow Devon’s thoughts, motives, and actions down to one single variable. As the troubled man entered the borders of Vato, these many things flooded his mind once more. Would he ever be a complete person once more? Even Devon was not sure. Nevertheless, he had a mission to complete. He would find Nathan’s murderer. He would focus on this as intently as he could in an attempt to drown out the other things pressing at his psyche. The two finally reached Vato, a small but densely populated province. Although holding allegiance to no nation, Vato had achieved a reputation as a well-known ore mining and crop producing area. Vato was thus a fairly affluent town thanks to its suitability for both agriculture and mining trades. It was able to make a considerable profit in dealing these goods to neighboring kingdoms, including supplying Hessea with much of its iron and steel supply. Reklaw led the way, apparently very familiar with the area. Devon had been to the province on a few occasions, but had never stayed very long. During his earlier years in the military, he had been assigned to serve as military transport for some traders from Hessea, although he never encountered any of the rumored bandits that supposedly frequented the main road to the province. The two reached a horse stable and handed their reins to a young boy. Reklaw tossed the boy a silver coin and gave him a quick pat on the head without uttering a word. As the two walked away, Devon eyed the Eagle’s Tavern a couple of blocks away. “We will approach the tavern calmly and inconspicuously,” Reklaw stated matter-of-factly. “Is that possible?” Devon asked, referring to his enigmatic companion’s appearance. “Humph,” Reklaw chuckled slightly. “Of course not. I expect… things to get interesting.” |
