If ever I thought I could endure anything, I would have to say that I was wrong in that, the pain that flows thru the burned flesh beneath my bandages makes me want to reach thru and scratch it off and peel it away leaving only the whitened bones. It feels as if the fire itself is still attached to me and is flowing thru my skin twisting and burrowing to find a place to smolder and devour. I try not to take anything because I do not like mind altering pain killers, I do not like to not be able to control my thoughts and emotions for I know what can happen even if others do not. I do not call out for help because I know the healers are stretched to their very limit, and it is only my own frailty at the moment that keeps me from being out there helping,if I were not in such pain I would be, but for now I have no choice. I have to remain in one place.
Sleep consumes me at various intervals and sleep eludes me intermittently as well it is as I am rising and falling into consciousness and unconsciousness,so acutely aware of myself that I can feel the throbbing of the tissues and the force of the blood as it rushes and pulsates thru every vein and artery, I feel the fluid seep from the charred flesh into the bandages the sweat that glides along my brow and neck to slowly travel along my skin until it dissipates. Though this only went on for a day or so, it felt like an eternity.
I did no venture from my wagon even when I was able to move with less pain. I made it was far as my platform one early evening as I felt something pull to me, call to me and beckon me. So I sat there, I was watching the sky waiting.
A short time later, I saw Tasco nearing, he looked weary and I could tell that much was weighing on him, if he was not careful he would succumb to illness, it is a danger for anyone working to help others or making repairs. I spoke of it to him, he of course dismissed it as if nothing, for he had something on his mind something that gave him a focus, and a need to do something. His father was missing.
I spoke to him for a moment or two, listening to what he shared, then I asked for something that belonged to his father, and I took it in my hands and I held it carefully as if it were precious and priceless and it was, for it was something that held the life of his father, everything we use in our lives carries an essence of who we are and what we are.
I let it become a part of me and allowed that part of me that knew how to travel in places and times that others were not aware of, it was something that did not take much effort on my part, yet it ultimately would drain me slightly most times it did not bother me, but right now I was not at my full strength and it would alter the balance, but the cost was worth it in my mind.
I told him where to look, what to look for and that if he was not careful he would overlook it. It would take being very aware of his surroundings and paying attention to every detail to find his father, I saw what happened to his father and it left me with an emotion and sensation I could not define, I did not tell him what I saw. I saw how he died, I could almost touch it, I could feel the heat, I could smell the burning flesh. I watched the scene unfold in my mind before I spoke to him. But all I could tell him was that he would find him, he would be the one to find him.
This seemed to help him, but I am not sure that it would really prepare him. No one can prepare for death, for the loss of those we love. There is always that empty place within us that will never heal. We learn to live with it. That is all we can really do, and honor them with how we live our lives and how we treat others.
I watched him go and then I returned inside my wagons, it would be days before I emerged, I was resting, doing no work, and the inactivity was driving me insane as was other things I was feeling. But I was also testing a theory. While I rested I wanted to see something. I was surprised by those that did come by to see if I needed anything, and I was surprised by those who did not.
Interesting.
Sleep consumes me at various intervals and sleep eludes me intermittently as well it is as I am rising and falling into consciousness and unconsciousness,so acutely aware of myself that I can feel the throbbing of the tissues and the force of the blood as it rushes and pulsates thru every vein and artery, I feel the fluid seep from the charred flesh into the bandages the sweat that glides along my brow and neck to slowly travel along my skin until it dissipates. Though this only went on for a day or so, it felt like an eternity.
I did no venture from my wagon even when I was able to move with less pain. I made it was far as my platform one early evening as I felt something pull to me, call to me and beckon me. So I sat there, I was watching the sky waiting.
A short time later, I saw Tasco nearing, he looked weary and I could tell that much was weighing on him, if he was not careful he would succumb to illness, it is a danger for anyone working to help others or making repairs. I spoke of it to him, he of course dismissed it as if nothing, for he had something on his mind something that gave him a focus, and a need to do something. His father was missing.
I spoke to him for a moment or two, listening to what he shared, then I asked for something that belonged to his father, and I took it in my hands and I held it carefully as if it were precious and priceless and it was, for it was something that held the life of his father, everything we use in our lives carries an essence of who we are and what we are.
I let it become a part of me and allowed that part of me that knew how to travel in places and times that others were not aware of, it was something that did not take much effort on my part, yet it ultimately would drain me slightly most times it did not bother me, but right now I was not at my full strength and it would alter the balance, but the cost was worth it in my mind.
I told him where to look, what to look for and that if he was not careful he would overlook it. It would take being very aware of his surroundings and paying attention to every detail to find his father, I saw what happened to his father and it left me with an emotion and sensation I could not define, I did not tell him what I saw. I saw how he died, I could almost touch it, I could feel the heat, I could smell the burning flesh. I watched the scene unfold in my mind before I spoke to him. But all I could tell him was that he would find him, he would be the one to find him.
This seemed to help him, but I am not sure that it would really prepare him. No one can prepare for death, for the loss of those we love. There is always that empty place within us that will never heal. We learn to live with it. That is all we can really do, and honor them with how we live our lives and how we treat others.
I watched him go and then I returned inside my wagons, it would be days before I emerged, I was resting, doing no work, and the inactivity was driving me insane as was other things I was feeling. But I was also testing a theory. While I rested I wanted to see something. I was surprised by those that did come by to see if I needed anything, and I was surprised by those who did not.
Interesting.
Ulric has told me that he has not yet found my father or Falon, two of my fathers wagons are destroyed but there were no bodies within them.
No one has seen them.
Why does it feel like deja vu once more.
