The Windglider was soon in the air; Deadrick had told them that they couldn’t afford to spend much more time anywhere the Unholy could reach them. They had grabbed as much food from the forest around them as they could and took off.
They were heading southwest, towards the beautiful wooded Elven lands of Rillwynn.
Nerui had told them that her clan, the Maene’i people, would hide them from the Councils forces, and the increasing number of Unholy creatures.
Deadrick kept the Ghost of The Inquisitor, which he thought was quite an impending name for a ship, obviously born out of Nerui’s anger towards him after how he had been with Bruad, on full speed until he felt they were far enough away from Gaelwynd.
He lowered the flame and the slowed the rotor, and the Windglider settled into a jogging pace.
He looked back across the top deck.
Bruad was gazing intently over the side of the ship, across the wide rolling landscape. Danyel and Nerui looked deep in conversation over something in the sleeping quarters.
How have I picked these stragglers up? Deadrick thought, letting the warm night air wash over his face.
Nerui and Bruad were following him of their own free will, they were following him mindlessly into probable death by choice. Danyel was not so lucky. His only family were high-ranking Council officials- after being Implicated in the Streylen’s murder; they would have disowned him, leaving nobody to hear his plea against his accusation. Stepping anywhere near the city was basically suicide for him.
Deadrick had always worked alone, all throughout his long life he had never anybody to help him, and he had gotten used to it. He learnt to work without help, or company, and was fairly annoyed by the hangers on he had acquired.
He climbed onto the reshaped dragonhead, and sat down; letting his legs dangle over the edge.
Then, he heard a noise behind him. He turned to see Nerui leaning on the edge of the Windglider.
“Aren’t you scared you’ll fall?” She asked, “It’s a few hundred metres to the ground,”
Deadrick looked down, he felt no fear at the sight of the drop.
“I’ve sat in more dangerous places than this,” He said, looking at the moon.
“You should tell me about them sometimes,” She continued, much to Deadrick’s dismay, “You never talk,”
Deadrick looked at her, narrowing his eyes.
“I don’t have much of interest to say,” He replied.
“You’re an Inquisitor!” She exclaimed, “You hunt demons, stake vampires and melt witches! I’m sure that there's lot’s of interesting things you could say. One good thing about having companions is being able to talk to them-“
“I never asked for companions,” Deadrick retorted.
“Well you’ve got them, so like it or lump it,” Nerui snapped, but she was smiling.
Deadrick was shocked, Nerui was one of the few people who had ever stood up to him. He didn’t like it.
“I’ve always worked alone,” He told her, making sure the others couldn’t hear him, “All my life, and I’m so old now,”
Nerui chuckled, “You’re not that old,”
Deadrick hated himself for getting drawn into a conversation- Nerui had easily infiltrated him.
“I’m older than I look,” Was all Deadrick could say.
“Well how old are you?” Nerui asked.
Deadrick exhaled loudly.
“Old enough. Old enough to be considered a legend, and if I died tomorrow, old enough to be considered a myth,”
Nerui didn’t know what to say.
“What does that mean, Deadrick?” She asked softly. But the conversation was over, Deadrick swung back down onto the ships deck.
“Nerui, we’re about to hit the Rillwynn border, I’ll need you to help me get the Windglider to your clan,” He said, ignoring her completely and twisting the wheel.
She said nothing, what Deadrick had just said still spinning round her head.