I don’t know why we fight so hard to live long lives. Time is the cruelest master; it makes you crave more of it, yet the longer it grants you, the more it slowly devours you. First, your smooth complexion, then your stable lungs, each stride you take as you age becomes as unbalanced as a flag being held as it’s charged into battle.
It’s an abusive relationship. I just want to enjoy my youth. If time doesn’t slowly eat me, a battle will consume me.
I pick the battle, dying fast and young over this man’s poor state.
But I can’t die until I know my brother is safe.
“You could have ruined everything! Everything because you’re pompous. You were supposed to come here and wander aimlessly; then I was to find you, bring you here, and give you this.” He shoves me into the damp stone wall, then rummages through the trunk at the foot of his bed.
He grabs a small piece of paper, rolled tightly, and then swats me over the head with it.
“Hey!” I fuss as I snatch it from his hand.
“Leave. I did my part.” He waves his hand dismissively in the air.
“I’m not a fly you can so easily swat away!”
“More like an imbecile who needs a kick in the ass,” he heckles as he slams the trunk shut. “Do you comprehend only the moans of women? I said, leave.”
“I’m not leaving!” I snap as I unravel the paper. It’s clearly been ripped out of a binding. “What is this?” I demand.
“It’s called parchment. You use it to write on.” Turning his back, he slowly strides to the opposite corner of the room, where the single chair is. I’ve seen thicker toothpicks than the legs on that chair.
“Stop being an asshole!” I fire back.
“It takes one to know one,” he grumbles as he crosses his arms.
“I might be a pompous prick, but you’re a petulant child.” I practically shave off a layer of my teeth as I grind my jaw. As I smooth out the paper, some of the ink flakes off. Tavern tables are less stained, and the smell… let’s not comment on the scent.
“It’s a map,” I state.
“Wow, he knows pictures.” He claps. “Can he do one plus one?”
I give him a dirty look. “You really want to die, don’t you?”
“Yes. I do. I’m tired.” The wood moans and aches as he adjusts his position.
“Not soon enough,” I hiss under my breath, tracing my fingers over the old parchment.
So many of the borderlines are faded, and the kingdom’s names I can make out are not known to me. Most have been conquered and claimed, their history rewritten.Maps this old are usually held in Ishmor.
“Where did you get this?” I ask, voice low.
“I didn’t get it. It was given to me.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Pulling teeth out is easier than conversing with you.”
“I feel the same.”
“Who gave it to you?” I demand.
“Who do you think?” He grins.
“Everett,” I hiss. “Where did he get it?” I mumble as I look back at the map.
“That doesn’t matter, but he got it from a book he stole from Ishmor.”
My head snaps up.Click!Answers slide into place. Tristen told me that Selene had told him Everett had stolen a book from the Great Library of Ishmor. This paper must have been ripped from a book.
