9
Work in progress!
Jared felt his anxiety rising as he surveyed the slope ahead. A few, meager clumps of bracken studded the hillside, but disappeared as it rose. He dared not look higher, in case his courage should fail. The black-haired boy kicked at a rock moodily. All he suceeded in doing was bruising his toe. After a choice curse word, Jared turned back to where the other future trainees were still preparing. His pack laid at his side, already finished. A grim smile coloured his face, and his fist clenched, knuckles whitening with the strain. Of course he was already finished; he had much experience with this.
He sucked in a breath sharply. No, he reprimended himself, Don't think of that! It will- But it was too late. The deed was done, the gates broken. And now the memories came flooding back, as sharp and painful as if he were witnessing them for the first time.
"Jared! No!" His father leapt forwards, pushing him backwards. Jared let out a sharp cry as he hit the ground, spots flickering over his vision momentarily.
Vision clearing, he let out a hoarse cry, "Dad!" His eyes widened with shock as he saw his father, lying sprawled in the dust, motionless. The side of his head was bloodied, rocks scattered all about. The young boy felt his breath catch in his throat, heart stopping momentarily. No... No, no, no. "No!"
He got to his feet, unsteady. Jared ran over to his father, shaking his shoulder. "Dad!" he cried, voice breaking. "Dad! Y-you have t-to get up! W-w-we're almost h-home! C-c'mon!" He fell to his knees, not registering the pain that shot through them as they hit the rock. Jared was lost for words. He opened his mouth in a wordless cry, a cry of such pain, it was inexpressible. Tears streamed down his face, a torrent of loss, a waterfall of heartbreak.
Jared Silenthill, at 7 years old, had watched his father die.
With a gasp, he resurfaced, to find himself doubled over on the ground. Tears streamed down his face, and a hand was on his shoulder.
"Jared?" it asked, voice soft, "What's wrong?"
Wiping away the tears with a sleeve, he looked up into the face of Eldin. A pale face, thin, surrounded by messily cut dark-brown hair. Grey eyes watched him with concern."Nothing," he growled, getting to his feet. He shared his memories with no one.
Eldin raised an eyebrow, not buying it. Jared felt his grip beginning to loosen again. He set his teeth, determined not to break down in front of him. "I said, nothing. Shouldn't you be packing?"
"I'm done," Eldin motioned to the brown pack by his side. He took his hand off Jared's shoulder, as if embarassed by the contact. "You know..." he hesitated, looking at his feet. "We can't change the past, only remember it, and learn from it. Live in the present, for it is the only time there is. Cherish it. And, do not fear the future, for it will never exist. There is only now." He cleared his throat, cheeks reddening slightly. "My pa taught me that, and it's served me well." He turned away, facing the mountain.
Jared watched his back, studying him nore closely. There really was more to Eldin than met the eye. He shuffled forwards, until he was level with him. "Thanks,"he muttered gruffly, not meeting his eye.
"No problem. You're not the only one, y'know."
Jared's brow furrowed in confusion. Not the only what? But before he had time to voice his question, Walter shouted, "All trainees to me! We're beginning the climb!"