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1999-04-02: Still Searching


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Still Searching?

Author: Unknown author Published: April 2, 1999



The wind from the bay blew Crinn's hair back from his face. Moonlight raced across the bay hoping to illuminate his face as well, but spent too much time dancing in the waves and ended up being blocked by the leaves of a tree. Not one to allow defeat to deter it, the moonlight bound into the air and glanced off of the feathery underside of an unsuspecting crow.

Oblivious to maneuverings of the night, Crinn Sanjole continued briskly on his way. His destination was a small one room building. As he walked past the window, light from within briefly lit his face. Pausing at the door with his left hand extending to the worn metal latch, Crinn slowly turned his head back toward the window. His hand dropped back to his side.

Sprawled buildings, massed together. Water surrounding. Soaring low. Eyes darting from place to place. Seeking… seeking…

Crinn stood still for a moment, seeming to listen to the symphony of sounds that filled Buccaneer’s Den at night. Crickets chirping. Trees creaking painfully in the wind. Waves crashing playfully upon the shore. A crow's wings fluttering as it circled overhead. Someone in the distance calling futilely for guards as thieves pounced. The raucous, ringing laughter achieved only by the desperately drunk. Sounds that Crinn knew well enough to automatically ignore on a nightly basis. The true focus of his attention became clear as he took a step backwards and returned to the window.

Hovering over stones standing in a circle. An ankh in shadows. Mountains close by. Danger everywhere. Tall gangly trees. Much undergrowth. Stopping to find and devour insects.

The weak, warm glow from a candle just inside the window gave his sharp features a warmth otherwise only seen when he was trying to compel trust from a complete stranger. A warmth which, despite the best efforts of the candle, vanished as soon as he saw her sitting at a table inside.

Thick sandstone walls. Gliding under an archway. Nervously avoiding people. Resting among the leaves of a tree. Sensing something close, but not what it sought.

Crinn walked directly to the door and opened it. She sat with her back to him at the door. Unmoving. There was no visible reaction to his intrusion, which worried Crinn slightly. Beyond the Enchantress was a small wooden table on which sat a candle and a heap of notes and journals written in the same hand. Another table by the window also held a candle as well as three books…three books Crinn recognized as the ones taken from the Lycaeum in Moonglow.

Sweeping down among the underbrush. Grass a blur below. Stones of fallen buildings pass underneath, but nothing is found within. Moving further south. Pausing at the coast. Following the shore.

Crinn stepped into the room and walked over to the Enchantress. She seemed to remain oblivious to his presence. Crinn glanced at the books by the window, but was far too afraid to touch them. He turned back to the middle of the room.

Sitting under a counter watching a chest. Hopping out and taking flight. An open window. Sighing… happy to be in the sky again. Water everywhere. Pausing to sip. Frustrated... emotion it failed to understand.

“Enchantress?” Crinn said hesitantly. When she did not stir, he walked around the table so that she could see him.

“Enchan…” Crinn began, but he immediately knew that something was wrong. Well, not wrong exactly. But not quite right either. Her breath came normally. She looked the same… except… except…

Moonlight shining from the water below. Wind pulling towards the shore. A man walking below. Drifting down behind him. Fluttering back up to the sky. Circling above a small building.

Crinn leaned against the table, steadying himself with his hands, and stared at the motionless form of the Enchantress. Her pale skin glowed in the candle light, radiating a health rarely seen. Or perhaps, not health… perhaps just energy. Power. But it was her eyes that drew him. He found himself staring. Pulled into what he was seeing. Without realizing, he had slowly been leaning closer to her until their faces were mere inches apart… eyes locked. His arms trembled slightly.

Crinn lost awareness of where he was. In her eyes, he traveled to other places.

Sprawled buildings, massed together.
Hovering over stones standing in a circle.
Thick sandstone walls.
Sweeping down among the underbrush.
Sitting under a counter, watching a chest.
Circling above a small building. Light from the window. The door stands open. Gliding down into the opening. A woman sitting at a table covered in books. A man leaning in close to her.

Crinn’s eye widened in shock as he realized that he was seeing himself through her eyes… through the crow’s eyes. He threw himself backwards and saw the crow staring at him from the doorway.

From the table, the Enchantress scowled in frustration. Then looked up at Crinn and smiled, her eyes narrowing.