He wasn't born a fool, and by the Gods he wasn't going to be made a fool of now.
So why was he here, in a foolish place, at a foolish time, acting like a thrice damned fool? And if that wasn't bad enough, he had a corpse staring him in the face, telling him just how much of a fool he was.
Dammit.
Before him on the ground, the corpse lay with its face turned to Philip, unmoved by his anger. Philip stared at the body as if he could make it go away.
"So I'm a fool. You were here first." The corpse said nothing.
Phillip cursed and sat down heavily next to the body. This was the same body that had stopped him in his tracks only a short time ago and, dead or not, had forced him to realize how much he was fooling himself. Not that he held out much hope on any new venture, but this time he had been fooling himself all along. About the road, where there really was no road. About coming to this damned empty land, where the only thing a man could make of himself was a slow death. About trusting someone for once.
Most of all about trusting.
It had always been that way, hadn't it? Can't trust anyone, rely only on yourself. And when you finally give it a try, look what happens. Philip looked at the corpse once again. He was sure that here was someone who knew how to trust without suspicion. Before some monster took away half his torso, that is. Trust is always rewarded.
"You know", he said, addressing the corpse as if he had know it for years, "I didn't plan on being lost in the Veldt." He swung his arm to take in the vast, flat landscape, populated only by the occasional stunted trees and a nearby scattering of corpses, probably his new friend's companions. Well, they could stay where they were. This was a private conversation.
"No," he continued, "I was supposed to be on my way to a town full of rich merchants. A fair, you know?" The corpse said nothing, and Philip took this as an affirmative. "I was to be a wandering minstrel, wander among them, perhaps look for a patron. Maybe I would have become a sensation! Not many minstrels in these parts!" He began to laugh, a little too loud. He cut himself off just short of hysteria. Enough time for that later, if there was one.
"A wandering minstrel searching for a wealthy patron in a town where patrons are common as grass and good entertainment as rare as Ribbons. That was the life for me." A shadow passed over his features. "But that's what I get, isn't it? Trusting someone, that is. Just like you. I bet you trusted someone, told you coming here was a good idea. Maybe you paid more gold than you could afford to get in on a good chance before anyone else did. Book passage up the coast, up the river." He flashed anger. "And the moment your back is turned there goes the damn boat with up the river with that bastard captain laughing as he goes!" Philip punched the ground, raising dust. He turned to face his silent audience. "But at least it's over for you. Here I am, hardly enough money to buy a meal if I do get to a town, and only you and the monsters for company while I try to find one. Wish I'd stayed in Doma"
Philip rose and gave the corpse an appraising look. "Well, if I'm going to end up like you, at least I'll make it a little further. If my fate is going to find me, it's going to have to work for a living."
With this, Philip turned from the corpse and made his way back to the little cart that held his belongings. Not much of a cart, he thought, but for the bargain price he'd paid for it, what did he expect. Nobody else would have wanted such a small thing, not at Nikeah Market, anyhow. And he had managed to barter a few songs into some ready cash that day, so it was the cart or another drink and that wasn't really much of a choice, was it? At least he didn't have to haul his instruments around on his back wherever he went.
Philip lifted the harness form the dust and began slipping the strong leather straps over his shoulders and about his waist. A clever arrangements, really, flexible straps around the trunk of his body that allowed free use of his hands in case he needed to defend himself or his luggage, and he wanted to properly thank the fellow who had built them if he ever saw him again.. It had come in handy more than once, despite his natural caution.
Natural under other circumstances, at any rate, he fumed.
Well, nothing for it but to try to get into a better mood. This sort of blues would only get him killed in a hurry, so hard as it may be, he had to do something about it. He turned and retrieved a lute from the cart. A simple instrument, not too heavy or complex, basic enough to play while walking. And most importantly, difficult to play depressing music on.
Perfect.
Philip set out and began to play.
Notes, like autumn leaves, drifted on the wind. And like leaves, they found a place to land at the end of their journey. A very good place to land.
He had intelligence, this one, although many would have passed him off as nothing more than a beast. And so he was. A beast with the form and intelligence of a young man, but a beast nonetheless. A beast that roamed the Veldt in search of ... what? He never knew. He never asked. It was enough to search, and perhaps one day he would find something, something he had never expected.
Music was exactly the sort of thing he didn't expect. Unfamiliar sounds, unlike the cries of animals and sounds of nature that he normally heard and loved, but sounds alien to him. Not unpleasant sounds. No, not unpleasant at all.
He must seek out the source of these sounds.
The Veldt, which lay to the east of the lands where Philip had spent most of his life, were a mystery to most people. And no wonder. the Veldt was a haven for dangerous creatures the world over, and one could encounter almost any sort of beast, from the humblest Leafer to the mighty Rhinotaurs and Tuskers, and Gods knew what else besides. If the rumours were true, there were creatures here far more dangerous then those.
Which did little to make Philip, wandering alone in the plains, feel terribly secure. He had always been careful, if not downright paranoid, when he had travelled in his home lands, from Figaro to Nikeah and Doma, and more places besides. He had remained, where he could, on well travelled roads, moving with larger parties if possible, and when not, he travelled solely by day. While he knew a bandit may not be interested in a lone vagabond, and particularly such a poor looking specimen as he was careful to appear, there was little sense tempting fate.
But here he was, alone in a land without the possibility of negotiation or deception, alone with the worst monsters that roamed the world, where his fate could overtake him at any moment.
He turned his attention to the lute, and tried to forget the danger.
Above, the sun continued its daily transit, slowly to a searing apex, through which Philip was forced to shelter by his cart, a blanket forming a makeshift tent. Then, just as slowly, settling into a long, eventual twilight, under which he finally made camp.
Philip made camp in a somewhat lighter spirit than he had started with, although his thoughts had been distracted through much of the day. Perhaps it was the playing that had calmed him, perhaps it was the hypnotic quality of the almost featureless miles. More likely it was his sense of relief. After all, a day with no monsters was a bit of an accomplishment on the Veldt. He glanced at the still body of the Leafer he had encountered earlier, and thought that even this could hardly be considered a monster, carnivorous bunny or no.
At least I eat well tonight, he thought, instead of something else eating me. He wondered how long it would last as he trussed the Leafer over the fire and reached for his lute.
Nearby, hidden among the grasses, he lay motionless. He had followed the stranger for mush of the day, and was beginning to learn his ways.
Obviously, he was a stranger, he knew nothing of living in the Veldt. The fine scent of roasting Leafer, while pleasing to his senses, would be pleasing to the senses of others, as well, and this one did not seem prepared to fight off attackers. But he was there. He would help.
The person at the camp, he thought, must be worried about many things. He seemed too tense, too angry. Most of the day he had not bothered to pay attention to the beauty of the Veldt, but grumbled and spat and stomped along, only cheering up when he started to play those sounds that were so attractive. They were nice sounds. He wanted to hear more of them.
It had always seemed strange to him that no matter how black his mood could become, the music that he drew out of his instruments would become inspiring, beautiful things, sometimes so strong that the lifted him out of his own depths. Philip had often thought that his music was strangely opposed to his soul's normal darkness. Light where he was heavy, sprightly where he plodded. It never made sense to him, but he had learned to live with it.
As it was, though, he was in a mood too foul even for his music to dispel. The day's walk, while distracting and capped with a sense of relief, could not keep his anger and frustration away forever, and for all the airiness of his music there was little that could be done to keep his thoughts from the dark regions. Not only today's darkness, but the darkness of long past as well.
Frustration. Anger. Resentment. Those had been his companions, even at the best of times. They had been with him when he left home in disgrace, hated by all those around him. Even those he had trusted with his deepest secrets. And through the dark years after, when his survival depended on what he was worth to others, sometimes for purposes too dark even for him to recall. But he did recall despite himself, and his frustration at this further failure drove him deeper.
Even that one time when life ran the other way. That time when Cal taught him the other way, the way of music that would lift him from ruin. Even then there was anger, this time at Cal himself for keeping him at bay, even while he taught Philip how to plumb the depths of his own soul.
He played on, melody happily flowing, unaffected by the turbulent darkness of its creator.
"Uwaau!!!"
The unearthly sound of the cry sent him to his feet and back, startled out of his reverie.
That was what saved his life.
A bright flash, a sudden heat, a glimpsed afterimage of dozens of small motes of flame, as big around as his fist, striking at the spot he had been only a moment before. Panic sent his eyes upwards to where blue leathery wings cut the sky toward him, and claws that could easily tear him to pieces tried to grasp at his still-moving form.
Philip dived for the cart, mind racing. Pteradons! That was it! He had heard of them, near the caves at Mount Kolts. Dangerous as hell, and far beyond his ability to hold off. His only home was to hide and hope that what was left of the Leafer would distract them.
He hadn't counted on the plants. Vines like heavy rope burst the earth before him, barbed tips raking shallow gashes in his flesh. Philip grasped his sword and swung hard, severing the nearest of the vines, but more came from other directions, too many to follow, and Philip realized he was trapped. Two Pteradons circled, waiting for an opportunity.
Philip knew there was little chance for escape now, but he would not die easily. He braced himself for the next assault, but staggered as a wave of nausea came over him. The world seemed to shift and sway, and he fell, realizing that he had been poisoned.
The world dimmed as they closed for the kill.
"Uwaau!!!"
Daylight hit him like a slap. Not the first thing he expected.
To be sure, he had expected to be in a place much colder and darker than this, perhaps commiserating with the fellow he had met the morning before. The could have had a proper conversation, there in the deeps. But that would have been in the depths, not here. Not lying on hard ground, squinting at the sun. He tried to move. And in pain, he added. Definitely in pain.
And quite definitely alive, he decided, for he was sure the pain of the dead was a lot more intense than the dull aches he felt right now, and surely the eyes of the dead didn't have trouble focussing. As it was, he had to squint to get a good look at himself.
He began to inspect himself as well as he could, and was further surprised to find that someone had taken care of him, wrapping his injuries in cloth that appeared to have started life as his favourite silk shirt. Bandages? Who the hell? Philip sighed and wondered what else could happen. He needn't have asked.
By now, his eyes had cleared enough to make out the surroundings, so he began to look about himself. The cart, much to his relief, was still in one piece, although some of its contents were strewn about it. It struck him that any creature that was interested in his cart would simply have ransacked it, but that didn't seem to be the case. At least they weren't so interested in me, he thought, turning to his other side, where the Pteradons had made their foray on his camp.
And was shocked to find something inspecting the remains of his fire. Philip held very still. If he didn't move, perhaps it wouldn't consider him prey. He was in no condition to defend himself a second time. Not after doing it so poorly the first.
Philip studied the form before him. It seemed to be small, about half his height, with light brown fur capped by a golden mane. He could not make it out well from where he was, but it seemed to be interested in the camp site itself. Then it turned to him.
Philip flinched, wondering if he could possibly move fast enough to reach his sword. Probably not, the way his muscles felt, but he had to try. His hands shook as he readied himself for the attempt.
"Is New Friend feeling better?"
Philip's mind went blank as his face slowly turned to the voice. Before him stood not a monster, but a young man, clad in homemade clothing and sporting a lush growth of blonde hair. Philip suddenly realized that this was not only the "monster" at the camp, but probably the one who had bandaged him. His mind reeled as he held up one arm.
"You?" he managed to say.
The boy's face beamed with pride. How old was he? "Animals hurt New Friend. Gau fix."
Gau? Was that his name?
"Is New Friend feeling better?" the boy repeated.
Philip managed to sit up, although his head fogged disturbingly at the motion. "Yes, I think so. Say, you're Gau, aren't you?" The boy nodded vigorously. "Could you do something for me? There's a bottle with some blue stuff in it..." If he had more to say, it would have been a waste of time, as Gau was already trotting to the cart, immediately returning with a blue vial. Looks like Gau took the opportunity to get acquainted with my belongings wile I was out, Philip thought, then gave an involuntary shudder as he downed the thick, bitter liquid.
Philip had always hated the taste of cure potions, not to mention the unsettling sting as his flesh moved of its own accord, knitting itself back to its original state. A necessity for the strolling life, regardless of discomfort. At any rate, it beat the hell out of pain.
Much improved, Philip got to his feet and inspected his new friend. A wiry youth, he may not have been that much younger than Philip himself, with the exception of curiously childlike features. It didn't help that Gau's expression was so beaming, presumably at his survival, that it would be useless to guess the boy's age. The pelts that formed his makeshift jerkin and breeches were obviously of his own making, and equally obviously the remains of monsters he had never encountered. All told, a strange boy. Where had he come from?
Philip ventured the question to Gau, but Gau only shook his head. "Gau is from here. Gau lives with animals. Animals not like town."
Well, thought Philip, at least it's an answer. Of a sort, at any rate. Although it seemed incredible that anyone, even a lean, athletic young man like this could live out here in this godsforsaken place, that was Gau's story and it seemed unlikely to change. And for some reason, Philip didn't believe he was lying.
Gau turned to the dead fire and motioned for Philip to join him. "Eat, New Friend. Gau saved some."
Philip realized he was starving, and no wonder. By the look of the sun he had been out for a good part of the morning, and he had not eaten since before making camp the previous day. Cold or not, what was left of yesterday's Leafer seemed a feast, and Philip wasn't one to turn down a feast when he needed one.
When he finished, Gau touched his shoulder. "New Friend come with Gau. Animals will come soon, and New Friend does not want to meet them."
Philip couldn't agree move, and quickly loaded his cart, fascinating Gau when he arranged the harness about himself. Philip thought idly that Gau must never have seen anything like this, and was somehow pleased by the thought. He couldn't have said why, but with this small young man at his side, he felt more secure than the night before. They began to walk, leaving the camp behind them.
The sun had almost fully set by the time they stopped again. Philip had tried to speak to Gau several times, but had gotten little useful information from him. Yes, there was a town, named Mobliz, but no, he knew nothing more about it. It seemed Gau was not fond of town for some reason, and he could get little else out of him. Verbally, at least.
What was more informative was his actions. Gau seemed curious about everything, and throughout the day he had inspected a great deal of Philip's possessions, to say nothing of Philip himself and almost anything they found along the way. Is was distracting, and Philip realized with a start that he hadn't thought either of his anger or his past since he had met this strange boy. He smiled at the thought.
Not to mention the fact that with Gau he literally was safe. Shortly after they had left, the pair had been set upon by what appeared to Philip to be hairy elephants, but he was not sure. It hardly mattered, since Gau himself rose into the air and produced the same cluster of fireballs that had almost ended his life the night before. Philip was impressed.
There was no sign of such power now, however, as Gau scurried about digging up roots and finding dry branches from the few undernourished trees to start a fire. Philip rummaged through the cart for flint to start a spark with, but was interrupted by Gau's happy shout.
"Fire ready!"
Philip turned, surprised to find a healthy fire already burning where moments before there had been nothing. Gau beamed. "Gau learned that from Ghost." Philip mused that perhaps there were a few advantages to living among beasts.
After the meal, Philip returned to his little cart and produced a bottle of hard cider he had been saving for a special occasion. Well, if having your life saved and meeting someone this special isn't an occasion, then he had no idea what was. Philip retrieved mugs and poured for the both of them. He hoped Gau would like it.
Gau did. Enough to relax into a more talkative state as the evening wore on, speaking to Philip of his life among the animals and monsters of the Veldt, things about his past, his feelings about the other humans he had met. But Philip knew there was more. More than this young man, who had little experience with language, could possibly put into words. But there were other things besides words.
Philip rose and placed the tip of his finger to Gau's lips, silencing him. Gau looked in wonder at his friend, but accepted the action with a trusting gaze. Whatever Philip wanted, he seemed to say, was fine with him. Philip stayed where he was for a heartbeat, then rose to approach the cart.
After a moment, he returned carrying his viola. Of all the instruments he had played, this was the one on which he truly felt most comfortable. His mentor, so many years ago, had encouraged him once he had seen Philip's connection to the instrument, and had him play it more and more as time went on. And later, after Cal had been lost to him, he had discovered strange things about himself when he played the viola. Things which he still did not understand.
He placed the instrument, raised the bow, and began to play.
It was obvious to Philip that Gau had never heard such music before, had perhaps never heard music at all. Hardly surprising, the boy was so innocent, so wild, he could not possibly have been touched by the creations of men. Well, he would show Gau that some of them contained beauty. He deserved as much, for the comfort he had given. Philip emptied his mind and began to play from his heart.
Memories came, unbidden. A crowd gathered in the street on a summer day. The sun high overhead as he played. One person, a man, singled out from the crowd. Music flowing, to the crowd, to him alone. A sudden insight. A double scream.
After that day, so long in the past, Philip had learned of the strange power he possessed, a power which began with the ability to communicate the very essence of himself with another, and to learn the same of them. And later, the growing knowledge that he could change the ways of others, that he could alter the minds of others, their very emotions. The shocking realization that he, in some strange way, possessed magic.
And now he used his magic again.
Philip stood before Gau, his face intense, concentrating on the instrument he played so beautifully, apparently oblivious to the other's existence. Within, however, the truth was quite the opposite. Although no words passed between them, Philip began to reach out to Gau, showing rather than telling of his life, his pain, his vain hopes. He shared with Gau the dark parts of his soul that he knew so well, the parts that had come from a long past of pain and misery. He shared the humiliation of his early years, selling himself on the street, his rescue at the hands of a stranger, only to have his rage turn to frustration at never being able to rouse such desires in his mentor.
And he shared something else. Something he didn't expect. Something that he never knew existed until this moment, this moment of sharing. It came from a part of him that his darkness did not touch, could not touch. A part that held light.
This was his source. The source of his music.
It was a revelation. As if in response, he now began to feel Gau, his soul opening suddenly like a floodgate, responding in kind to the light of this new-found depth of spirit. Gau's soul washed over him, drowning him in experience, and he felt himself losing control. And for once, he felt joy at the prospect, giving himself over completely, unthinkingly, to Gau and the music.
It swirled and darkened, then brightened and moved in complex patterns that Philip had never heard before, let alone played. It became now majestic, now sombre, now almost soothing, responding instantly to the intertwining of the two souls who shared and built it, the two who lived its song. Philip's mind was now far beyond words, the deepest, secret parts of himself, parts he never intended to share, brought forth in a joyful torrent.
And the music played.
Finally, exhausted, Philip ceased to play and fell to his knees. The viola slid from his fingers unheeded. It was no longer necessary. He made no more movement for what seemed an eternity, eyes open but unseeing, his very soul drained of emotion. When at last his senses returned to him, his eyes flew to Gau.
Gau sat motionless, apparently as shaken as he. Of course, thought Philip, if it hit me this bad, how must it be for him? He rose and rushed to Gau, fearful that the shock had been too much.
It took only a touch, though, to awaken the boy. His expression changed to that of one who has dreamed, and carries the wonders of dream into the waking world. He looked directly into Philip's eyes and smiled.
"Gau likes Philip," he said simply, but Philip felt the intensity behind the simple words. The had touched souls, and Gau knew what he was. He knew what Gau was.
Tentatively, he knelt before the boy. No, he thought, not a boy. This is a man, blessed with the heart of a child, the loving heart of innocence. Philip's heart reached out to him, the heart that had never known innocence wishing to share in the wonderful innocence of his friend. Innocence that was freely given. His grip on Gau's shoulder became stronger, just a little, and Gau smiled. This was right.
Philip moved closer to Gau and held him in both arms. His body, so hard and strong, became flexible to his touch. There was no tension here, only trust. Complete trust. Now that he knew it for what it was, his heart ached for it.
Their lips met, at first still tentatively, then with some surprise as Gau took the initiative, moving strongly against Philip and holding him tight in arms that seemed at home with this new experience. Philip surrendered to the other's strength and love, falling into the emotion of the kiss, losing himself for perhaps the first time in a pleasure shared equally. He wanted it to last forever.
As Gau finally withdrew, Philip knew deep within himself that Gau was ready for more. He could not have said how he knew. Perhaps it was his greater experience, perhaps the sharing that went between them. It didn't matter. He knew and didn't care why. He began to remove Gau's makeshift coverings, then his own.
Gau was beautiful. Lean, small, a musculature that implies swiftness and flexibility. A tan covered his entire form, telling Philip that Gau had no trouble with nudity, a fact which Gau's unabashed stance confirmed. He himself was not nearly as physical, but he felt they made a good match.
Naked now, he returned to the kiss, this time as aggressor, exploring not only lips but the surrounding face as well, while eager hands explored the new form in their reach. Gau, learning quickly and emboldened by new urgings of his own body, returned the actions, taking cues from Philip at first but quickly exploring on his own. He needed no further urging.
Philip moved back a little, breaking the kiss. His breath ran in ragged gasps as his hands explored Gau without distraction, causing Gau to lose himself in new pleasure. Chest, shoulders, arms, torso, legs. Philip caressed Gau's body, creating delicious responses to every new touch. Philip smiled. There were touches yet which Gau had never dreamed, and he planned to show him every one.
He teased and caressed Gau, enjoying the experience every bit as much as his friend, responding in his own way to the touches he gave. As if he had never touched another before. His hunger began to grow, and he knew it was now time to feed it. His hands trailed downward from Gau's chest, sliding easily past his torso, down to the eager hardness below.
Gau howled at his touch. Almost shocked, Philip stopped, his hands still on Gau's member. Had he done the wrong thing? One look into Gau's eyes was all it took to know differently. The fierce gaze in Gau's eyes was not disapproval but passion, an intense passion that he did not yet understand, and a hunger to know it more fully. He wanted to understand, and his hunger for knowledge joined this deeper hunger. The hunger only Philip could feed.
Philip returned to his task, stroking and caressing with great care, exploring the sensitivities and strengths which were Gau's, while his free hand continued to explore more of his marvellous physique. Gau moaned and submitted, lost in pleasure.
It was only a matter of time then, before Philip could take no more. Lowering himself to the ground before Gau, he bowed his head and took his friend into his mouth, tasting of the straining flesh, salty and sweet together. It was ambrosia to Philip, and he felt Gau's entire body stiffen at the sensation. If Philip had never learned another thing, his skill with lips, tongue and teeth would have sustained him. But knowing music, he also knew art. So he drew upon Gau's erect self, losing himself in the taste and texture of it and practised upon it as art, playing another sort of music, playing from his heart.
But he knew Gau could not last. Not the first time. Philip wanted more. Now.
Gau was surprised at the Philip's sudden withdrawal, and felt the ache of his departure, however brief. Philip had run to the cart, returning a moment later with a small vial. It was a useful treasure, though he had little use for it since he had met his mentor, Cal. A passing soldier had traded it to him once, and walked away satisfied. This was the first time he had needed it.
Philip dipped his fingers into the vial, removing them covered with a clear salve, scented pleasantly with herbs. This he applied to Gau, the delicious cooling on his now burning passion causing him to gasp, the fire in his eyes burning ever fiercer. Philip wanted this, and drew Gau to the ground before him.
Lying face to face, Philip showed Gau what was expected of him, and Gau needed little encouragement. His gentle nature was al but overwhelmed by need, and he entered Philip with a strength and enthusiasm that Philip had trouble accommodating. But Philip had done this many times before, with partners who cared much less for his feelings, so he was able to accept Gau with small discomfort. He gave over to the pleasure, the pleasure that for once in his life was mutual.
Gau became wild now, thrusting with abandon into his friend turned lover, crying out in his mounting excitement. Philip cried with him, lost in passion that had come more quickly and intensely than ever before, grasping himself and drawing upon deep reserves of unknown need and pleasure. His climax would not take long. Nor would Gau's.
Philip came first, stiffening and thrusting at air as the pleasure finally caught him. Fluid came between the two, hot and fast, coating Philip's chest. Gau, caught by Philip's motions, could last no longer and felt the explosion of his own self deep within Philip's body. He released, a release that he had never known before but now he knew he must have. Gau howled, from deep in his chest, a sound to be heard for miles.
They lay together, after, not speaking. There was no need for words. Music had brought them together without the need for language.
Philip got up, leaving Gau for a moment, and retrieved his lute. For once he felt inspiration. Gau smiled.
