Startled, he noticed the man's finger pointing at his chest. He was still wearing his name badge from the ward. So this strange man wasn't entirely psychic then, that was a relief.
'I don't know why I'm sitting here,' he offered in reply, stupidly.
The man smirked behind his wild black beard. 'You've got nowhere better to go, have you? None of you breakouts ever do. Been disowned by society and now you're on the run from both the institute and the law.'
He certainly couldn't argue with that, there would be a manhunt going on as he spoke.
'I have a proposition for you,' the man said, stretching his arms out and leaning forward.
He eyed the man warily, the word 'proposition' had a nasty ring to it in his mind, especially coming from a complete stranger. 'What is it you propose?'
The stranger was leaning forward even further now, in fact it looked like he was on the verge of...
'Join me,' the man said with a smile, toppling off the bridge head-first.
For the first time in recent memory, he considered suicide. He would rather his book remain unpublished than in the hands of someone like Miss Simmons, in order for that to happen the ending must die with him. In spite of their well-meaning efforts, his family had stayed clear of him in a manner that indicated near-complete abandonment. He was at best a fugitive, at worst a prisoner of the mental health system without any hope of rehabilitation. All of this on-top of the excruciating 'existential angst' as they called it, a terribly belittling name for something so insidious. What exactly had he left to live for?
The siren cut through his thinking, someone had sent a police car out to the bridge upon hearing of his escape. They probably thought he was another jumper, the officer had now cut the siren and was cautiously approaching with his arms raised.
'Could you step away from the bridge please, sir?' the man asked, keeping his voice calm and low in a remarkable show of professionalism.
You've got nowhere better to go, have you?
He didn't remember standing on the bridge yet here he was, teetering so very close to the edge. The poor man was only trying to do his job, definitely thought he was another suicide case now. Another lost soul that he had to talk down. Yet for some reason he couldn't bring himself to step off the edge and put the officer at ease.
He looked down, was his attention so divided that he had missed the splash of the stranger? He should probably tell the officer that there had already been a jumper but he felt no compulsion to do that either. Something still wasn't right here, it all felt like a dream.
'Please son, whatever it is you're going through we can talk about this, okay?'
I have a proposition for you.
He thought back to what the man had said, his strange suggestion and subsequent jump. No, he hadn't jumped, he had merely slipped away as if it was the most natural thing in the world. How odd.
Join me.
Closing his eyes to rid him of vertigo, he fell off the edge and into nothingness.
2
Jakob
He felt the wind coursing past him as he plummeted towards the water. He'd always wondered whether he would keep his eyes open for the duration or shut them tightly to avoid seeing his impending demise. The blackness surrounding him answered his query, it was an odd thing to think about given the lack of time left for him to think at all.
It didn't feel like he thought it would, time had slowed to a standstill and his stomach had lurched from the inertia but he felt no sense of finality in his action. He knew death was waiting for him with open arms yet he didn't pay it much thought, nor did he look back over his past life reliving moments long lost.
If anything he felt resolve, not in ending himself but in this singular action. He wasn't bringing about his own destruction, he was merely following the advice of a stranger to see where it led. It sounded so illogical when he thought of it like that but for reasons unknown it felt like the only thing he could do.
His feet hit the ground with a jolt, he hadn't noticed his body slowing, nor the absence of the howling wind and the change in the air. There was a faint sound that steadily grew in his ears to a bubbling crescendo. He opened his eyes with caution and was blinded by the morning sun. A figure stood in his periphery and he turned with a start.
'I see you have found your feet fairly quickly,' said the man from the bridge, looking as tattered and dishevelled as before.
'Who are you?' he asked him, taking in the surroundings.
The roaring sound was coming from the base of a nearby waterfall that they both stared at through a forest in what looked to be spring. There was a pleasant warmth in the air and the scent of pine lingered in the sun.
'Who I am is of no importance,' the man replied, tossing a rock across the surface of the water. 'Who are you?'
The question stumped him. Who was he? He had a name, didn't he? He looked down at his hands, they were different somehow, larger and more calloused, the hands of a worker. Or had they always been that way? There were no cuts on his arms, why had he been expecting cuts to be there in the first place?
'I am... Jakob,' he finally said, uncertain as to why the name had taken so long to come to mind.
'Good! Good!' the man chuckled to himself. 'What's the last thing you remember, Jakob?'
Jakob felt dizzy, why was this man asking him questions? 'I remember a bridge...'
The man frowned. 'Do you see any bridges around here, Jakob?'
Jakob took in his surroundings a second time, admittedly there was a distinct lack of any bridge. Why had he thought about it in the first place?
'No,' he finally replied with a sigh. 'I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that.'
The man smiled this time and watching it felt like a reward. 'Perhaps it will come to you if you give it some more thought. I found you passed out by the side of the road here, it looks like you had taken a nasty tumble.'
Jakob stared down at the dirt on his clothes, then back at the man. 'I was running from my father,' he said, feeling more confident about the response this time.
'Ah yes, I heard about him. The fierce new local Warden, must be a tough man to live with.'
Jakob smirked, he remembered that much at least. 'He's better on the road, I don't spend a lot of time with him at home. We're still settling in and I have other places to go to stay out of his way.' The cave, behind the waterfall.
The man's infectious grin broadened. 'Incidentally, I am searching for the Warden. Are we far out from Escana?'
Jakob pointed west now that he'd got his bearings back. 'It's about four miles in that direction, just keep following the path and it'll join onto a larger one. Follow that and you'll come across it.'
'Thank you lad, I'll be on my way now. I'm sure you have other things to be getting on with.' Without further comment the man hobbled off around a bend in the road.
Jakob felt a compulsion to visit the cave again. He vaguely recalled discovering it. It had been whilst scouting the area as he was prone to do and he happened to spot a log had been caught on the lip of the waterfall. It tore a rent in the curtain concealing the cave for the briefest of moments, then the water carried it over and it vanished into the spray.
He had dismissed it as nothing but the event kept needling him afterwards, as if demanding his attention. He had climbed the rocks adjacent but could think of no way to get underneath the waterfall and into the cave.
It had been brash and foolish of him, but it had worked. He had taken a leap of faith and launched himself into the waterfall, it had nearly drowned him.
Well, that wasn't entirely true, the waterfall was not at fault here, it had been the murky stagnant pool he had plummeted into that had nearly done him in after cushioning his fall. When he had coughed up enough water he had turned his eyes upward and discovered the cave.
He shook his head, why was he thinking about the cave so much all of a sudden?
He looked down at his clothes, they were soaking wet, when had that happened?
&
nbsp; Staring up he saw that he had already made it to the rock face leading to the lip of the cave. Had his feet taken him there without even realising? Was he reliving a memory or creating it?
He didn't enjoy the ensuing climb, the slippery rock face didn't lend itself to scaling and the places to put his hands were at a minimum. He hauled himself over the edge into the cave and lay there, panting. Unlike his previous daydreaming he remembered every agonising moment of his climb, why was he so tired?
'Good. Good,' came a voice.
Jakob jerked his head up at the sound, peering into the gloom of the cave and finding his feet.
'Your mind is gradually coming to terms with the translocation. It may be some time before you can recall every detail of your summoning.'
'Who are you?' Jakob asked the darkness, a growing sense of unease forming in his gut.
The man tutted at him. 'You have already had the liberty of asking me that question before, I give you the same response. Who I am is of no importance, now listen carefully.'
There was something in the way the man said those last words that drew Jakob's utmost focus. He felt woefully ignorant of the man's intentions.
'As I said before your interruption, your head should be righting itself now to a degree that I can speak more freely with you. You are not from here, do you recall that much?'
Jakob vaguely recalled the bridge, as if trying to spy the image from under the murky water of the pool. Yes, there had been another life, it seemed vague and fuzzy and inconsequential. He nodded cautiously.
'Good. Good,' the man repeated. 'You have done well to remember that much. Do not trouble yourself with further recollection, it will come back to you in its own time.' He paced back and forth as if searching for the best way to continue. 'Yes, you had a previous life, one of great misery and suffering. As of now that is at an end. Over time you will recall more of both what you were and who you have become, first it is of the utmost importance that I tell you why you have been brought here.'
Jakob sensed a great yearning open up in him, he had been brought here for a reason, he needed to know his purpose. His eyes were beginning to grow accustomed to the darkness of the cave, the stranger appeared to be sitting on a stony outcrop jutting from one of the walls.
'The Empire has survived for a time beyond measure. Through wars and usurpers and invasions and the changing of things. I am what you would call a seer, I pluck the threads of both possible pasts and futures and I know this much: those who now oppose the Empire almost certainly have the power to destroy it. Furthermore, unless they are sought out and dealt with their destruction of the Empire will cause the world as we know it to descend into anarchy.'
Jakob nodded, it was all too clear now. 'You have seen that it is I who must put an end to the usurpers.'
The man chuckled, 'How presumptuous, but yes, I believe this situation would be similar to so many of your stories, indeed you might find the parallels unnerving. You are the chosen one cursed with the weight of prophecy, I am the wise and elderly teacher who bestows your quest.'
He should have been terrified by this prospect, he had read enough of his own drafts to know that for every story of heroic triumph there was one with horrific consequences. Why was he so eager to rush to his death?
'I know what you're thinking,' the man said with a smile creeping over his tangled beard, as if answering the unspoken question. 'You can't understand why you desire this beyond all other things.' He walked forward into the dim light and poked a weathered finger into Jakob's chest. 'You have been nothing all your life, constantly yearning for a chance or opportunity to arise that never came. You have lived in a world that has beaten you down innumerable times for the impertinent hope that you hold close to your heart.' He waved his hand wildly toward the light outside. 'This is your opportunity to be something. You have been blessed with powers beyond your comprehension, abilities that you never had in your past life. Now is the time to act on that, now is the time I tell you why.'
Jakob sat in silence, trying to take in everything the man had said. Powers beyond his comprehension? Could he leap out of the cave and sprout wings? What did he mean?
The man chuckled, 'I wouldn't advise it, it would be a very short-lived flight. You are here to serve a higher purpose than scaring birds.' His face darkened, as if recalling an ugly memory. 'It is not within my power to speak of their names, they are most powerful and dangerous individuals who you must find yourself. Know this though, their presence will be obvious to you and you will see them for who they are. They are known simply as The Six. Six individuals with enough power and influence to destroy an Empire that spans over three oceans. They must be stopped and it must be you that accomplishes the deed.'
A surge of confidence ran through Jakob unbidden, he had been thrust into a new life and given purpose, he intended to make the most of it even if he must do it alone.
'You will not be alone,' the man said, clearly reading his thoughts once more. 'There will be others. You will not know them as you will The Six, yet your threads will be weaved together in a way that you will find impossible to ignore.'
Jakob hauled himself to his feet, there was an undeniable truth in the stranger's words, an assurance he couldn't quite place. He found the honesty refreshing if a little forward, yet for reasons he couldn't quite place he trusted it implicitly. 'What happens if I refuse to accept? What if I don't think this is real? What if this is just another dream?'
The man nodded. 'Good questions, important ones to ask given your current state. I offer you this in response: if this is another dream, there is no harm in exploring it like every other. If this is real and you refuse then you will simply be sent back to the institute. The choice is yours.'
Had he really expected any other answer? The man was right, even if the option to go back was a possibility, why would he take it? What had he to go back to?
'I see you have made your mind up.' The man stood up now, eyeing him kindly. 'Good. Good. I shall leave you in peace and finally pay a visit to your Warden.'
Without further comment or even a glance at Jakob, the man took a running jump and flung himself out of the cave entrance.
Jakob scrambled over to where the man had leapt, peering frantically through the spray in the hopes of finding something, yet it was as if he had never been there.
3
Jakob
He hadn't spent much time in the cave after that, pausing briefly to change out of his soaked clothes and into a set he kept in the cave before making his way through the woods and back toward the path.
He had searched the area surrounding the waterfall thoroughly and there was no trace of the man's departure. There was an odd sensation in his head, as if something was trickling down the inside of his skull. He didn't want to admit the possibility that the whole conversation may have been an illusion, he had questioned his sanity enough in the past.
What was wrong with him? Even the most simple of events that made up his past seemed slippery and out of his reach. Every time he tried to recall there was a sharp stab of pain as if he had upset some delicate process going on in his mind.
There was nothing he could do about it now. He had a task at hand at it was best to stick to it for now.
Focusing instead on the path before him, Jakob set off in the direction of Escana, the small hamlet where he had recently moved, hoping against hope that his father wouldn't chase him out a second time.
There was a wonderful sense of naivety about Escana, it lent itself willingly to the stereotype of being a quiet, out of the way farming community. The people here led simple lives untouched by poverty or war, talk of which seemed far away and only important to those who wished to seem educated and worldly-wise. Everyone knew everyone else, even the traders and caravans that would pass through on their way were largely familiar faces.
There were few saints in Escana, the people here were much like people everywhere. The only difference from city folk was they knew that in an area with
so few people that their crimes wouldn't go unpunished. It had become all too apparent to the resident troublemakers that the new Warden was not a man to be crossed.
Jakob knew his father was a harsh man, one that could instil fear and obedience in others, but he couldn't understand where his preceding reputation had come from. His every inquiry into the topic had either been hushed or outright ignored and there was no way he was going to ask the Warden again. Not after the beating he had given him last time.
Jakob had always chalked it up to resentment on his father's part, his mother had died in labour and that was something he'd never been forgiven for. As much as he tried to shake the irrational sense of guilt, the death of his own mother was forever on his hands and that fact was reinforced with every disapproval his father could muster.
Why was he thinking about this? What good would it do to replay the various moments of his life over and over in his head?
A large shadow loomed to his right, his feet had decided to take him on a detour to the Chipped Flagon tavern.
His father had been quite explicit in his request, though calling it a request would have given the wrong impression of the man. When Thom the Warden requested something, you didn't say no. This time he had 'requested' Jakob stop wandering around the forests like some lonesome child and seek employment in the tavern. Apparently a job had already been lined up for him and all he need do was make an appearance.
Even though Jakob had been a city-dweller he couldn't help but marvel at the imposing size of the place. Four stories tall and with the girth of several barns, the Chipped Flagon must have bewildered the locals upon construction. He had seen bigger buildings of course, the Daelovian cathedral sprung to mind in all its opulence. There was something special about the relative isolation of this one that made it loom even larger in his eyes.
Hesitantly he approached the wide-open front door and couldn't help but notice the complete absence of music or cheer. As soon as he passed through into that quiet room, all eyes would be on him.
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