The largely unrevised version of my first attempt at a novel (unfinished) |
Gilligan Blood sat down at his desk with a sigh. It had been thirteen months since last he'd done so and nothing had changed. Or rather, everything had changed, it just looked the same. For all that had happened over the course of a year, not a day seemed to have gone by in this place. But he knew it wouldn't last. It couldn't last. Before long this place, too, would be swallowed up by what was to come. And it was his responsibility to make sure it didn't. He truly wished it wasn't. He had never been good with responsibility. Escaping himself, his mind drifted away to a sunny island somewhere in the middle sea some three millenia past. He thought of the feeling of bare feet touching ground again and again as he ran, playing with his friends. He remembered his father's voice from afar. He remembered being safe. BANG! He snapped back to reality as his chair hit the floor. He'd fallen over. With the wind still knocked out of him he managed to get up, and as he did so he noticed someone standing in front of his desk. Ace. Of course. He should have known. He was the source of the noise; a tall black man now standing in the middle of the room. Ace, wearing the most expensive-looking suit Gil had ever seen, was probably the only man alive who could make dreads and pitch-black sunglasses look all business. Gil had often voiced his oppinion that the getup made him look 'utterly ridiculous'. The last traces of smoke were still dissipating around the man as Gilligan began to speak. "Hi, Ace." he managed to wheeze out as he fought to regain his breath. "Could you please, knock next time?" "Hello, Blood." the man in black said, trying to keep cool, but Gil couldn't help but grudgingly notice the smile creeping up his face. "Heard you were back in town." "For like an hour! God damn! Can't I get a minute before it's back to business?" He was getting agitated. He hadn't even had his coffeee yet. "You had sixty." Ace wasn't even bothering to hide his grin anymore and was now showing a mouthful of teeth. "Fine." Gil calmed down. "But I need my caffeine, so let's talk over coffee. And stop enjoying this so much! Damn sadist." Ace laughed at the remark and accepted the proposal. As always, Gil didn't really have any furniture for occasions like having coffee with someone else. Ace, who had gone through this almost ritual-like order of events many times in the past, simply sat down on the soft carpet that covered the room. He had to admit to himself that he actually enjoyed this more than most of his other meetings. Sitting on the floor reminded him of simpler times, and he found the thought of a living legend making him coffee exquisitely amusing. "So." Gil exclaimed as he finally joined the floor with cups in hand, handing one to his visitor. "Pray tell. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company tonight?" He embellished the words in an attempt to get another smile out of the man in black, but he had significantly mellowed down during the pause in conversation. "Lay off the faux courtesy." He managed to turn the entire sentence into a sigh. "I know you think it's funny, but it isn't." He looked tired. Really tired. He had the look of a man on the brink of exhaustion. Gilligan couldn't believe he hadn't noticed until now. "Everything is a mess." Ace explained. "We're preparing on every front, and not one of them is ready. Very few will be in time. Calleus is out recruiting and has had exceedingly bad luck. Johannes is likewise trying to raise an army of his own, but has so far been unsuccessful. Howard and Dawn are dead. Ariana hasn't been seen since shortly after you left and no one knows where to find her and..." He paused for a moment, reading Gilligan's face before continuing. "So basically, I've come to see how you fared. And if you have any news, good or bad?" Gil sat in quiet shock for the better part of a minute. He took a sudden breath as if to say something, then went quiet again. Eventually he regained his composure and managed to speak with only a slight quiver to his voice. "Well. As you know I've spent the year in The Deserts trying to give us some more time. I'm sorry to say that I failed to bring anything back from beyond the Veil. Everything is tightly locked inside." He paused to let the bad news sink in. Ace seemed, while disappointed, to at least have expected as much. "Did you try teleporting through?" "It's not that easy. If it was, the Veil would be redundant. I was there for a year. I tried everything. Even tried breaking the damn Veil. We won't get anything through without some serious help." He decided the topic was done. "As for good news; a rather large number of people from Six Cities decided to join us once they realised who I was. And I know the whereabouts of Ariana. She tracked me down in the City of Iron and told me what her aim was. I believe her plan might actually give us an advantage we hadn't thought of before." A sliver of hope had flickered to life in Ace's voice. "What is it? When will she be back?" "I promised her not to tell anyone. You know how she is about her privacy. So let's just hope she succeeds, and in time for it to matter." "But why? What-" Ace immediately stopped as he saw the pained look in the other man's eyes. A deep breath later Gilligan managed to ask: "How.. How did Howie and Dawn die?" He felt his throat close up as he spoke the words. "The way I've heard it, it was some kind of a research accident. Something about refining an energy source beyond known limits. Sounds to me like they might've succeeded." "I can't believe it..." It was true, he couldn't. "I've known them since my childhood. And they were ancient even then." "Death and taxes." Ace stated matter-of-factly. And the room fell silent. They finished their coffee in strained silence before Ace got up, said a quick good bye with the excuse of other business to attend to and disappeared again with another loud BANG! Left stood Gilligan Blood. Far away were the daydreams of his childhood. Gone were the feelings of calm and safety. Left was smoke. Left was sadness. Left were useless thoughts trying to come up with an answer that wasn't there to be found. |