Chapter 143: The Wind
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The one who had gifted the goats the understanding of human language. He is the true Father of Goats, not the Hermit. He is also the one translating the Gargen language all this time.
But..... Who exactly is he? Why is he the Wind, and why is he different from the other winds in this world?
The Wind had already anticipated their questions about his identity. He moved in a swish, as he always does during his howling laughter that could cause large oak trees to fall down, and boulders to break apart from the mountain's facade and cause a landslide. But it was warm and menial, he doesn't really mean any harm by it, only delighted.
"It feels exhilarating to be finally talking to you in this favored form of mine." He said, his voice just as incomprehensible as the Fairy King or Queen, Mandrien. But it is not something deliberate, Mandrien uses their voice to be elusive.
The Wind is distinct, and its identity is masculine. Though the age could not be told apart using its voice in this 'favored form'. When he was pretending to be the Hermit by wearing a cloak of leaves and his goat mask, he had made it more gruff and gravelly, like an elderly. But now, you cannot tell if it was a child's, an adult man's, or someone far more older-sounding than the Hermit. What did not change....
Is the much more airy inflections in it. Like he is whispering, and yet it is audible.
"Your favored form is nothingness?" Vladstin raised an eyebrow. "Merely a breeze."
"Yes. Because this is my true and most beautiful form." The Wind answered with glee.
"Are you... a ghost?" Sangfroid asked. "Winds don't act this way, at least, the ones we encountered before never talked to us. So you must be a spirit, or a phantom."
"A phantom? A ghost? That is truly interesting indeed, for I have never met one in my whole life." The Wind replied. If it has a head, the trio can imagine that it was cocking it to the side, eyes twinkling with intrigue.
The Beast started with an annoyed tone, "Then what are you---" But then saw the others turn to him, and so he added a meek little, "Sir? We are truly at a loss of what to make of you, and what you want from us. Are you here to help us or.... to do the opposite, to further confuse us?"
The Wind laughed in howls again. "My, my, so impatient, you humans are."
"We are vampire lords, Sir Wind." Vladstin corrected. "Sangfroid is the only human left."
"Ah, but you were all humans once. I consider you still as humans, you have only changed. Just like the moon changing its phase, the seas changing the tides, the wind changing direction... You will, and always be, humans. Bound by emotions, thoughts, and identity of humans."
"Then what about you?" Sangfroid ask. "Are you different from us? Are you a creature that was never human?"
The Wind's jolly tone and swishing faltered a little, as he did not move. It seems that this question also made him ponder some things. He stopped for a while, letting himself be swayed by this momentary reflection, this momentary contemplation of his own identity and existence.
"If I was a human once, like you three good fellows, there is no use. Because I have no recollection of it, not a single trace on my self. I have always been the Wind." He replied succinctly, not really in a way to drop the matter, but revealing how disinterested and lackadaisical he is towards it.
Whether he learns the truth or not, he will simply let himself be carried by such whims.
"Why did you become connected to the Hermit, then? Do you know if he was also once human like us, or a creature with no recollection of being one like you?" Leron inquired.
The Wind is aware of the split inside him, of the Beast. He knows when it is the White One speaking, or the Black One is speaking. He has no impression of them, nor favors one over the other.
He has no impression on anyone at all. He does not have strong 'feelings'. They change, and they let them change as they wish.
Before, he wanted Leron to be out of the way. The Hermit wanted it to be Vladstin to be eradicated, so that there are only the humans left, Sangfroid and Leron. He thought that is no fun, for the much intriguing result would be Sangfroid and Vladstin.
He was the one guilty of turning Leron into a Vampire Lord. He had arranged this a long time ago, ever since he made a wager with his dear friend.
But now, he received something unexpected. The Beast had developed a connection with Sangfroid. Vladstin is having flashbacks that are triggered by his change. And Sangfroid himself treats Vladstin better, and yet still has the same level of affection for Leron.
And so, the Wind felt like he could not see what number the dice is rolling to anymore, and decided to just wait and observe.
The Wind is no ally or enemy, it goes on its own way. It sometimes tries to block you and trip you off your feet in strong sandstorms and blizzards. It sometimes helps the sails of ships to move forward. It is forever adaptive and yet its adaption does not rely on anyone but itself.
Unlike the Hermit, who is grounded, and stable. And yet they have been good friends ever since they met.
"The Hermit was once human." He answered, not in the mood to lie or hide or be vague. Its latest whim is to be as truthful as possible. "One who live and died hundreds of years ago on this mountain. Since then, we have shared this domain with one another."
The trio was shocked by this revelation. They have always assumed that the Hermit of the Libitinous Mountain is special compared to the other hermits of legend, and that it must have been alive since the existence of the mountain itself.
"How did he transform? Why?" Vladstin asked.
"I do not know. And I know many things that happen in this domain of ours. When he came here, he was groveling in the dirt, bloodied and wounded. He was delirious, spilling every secret and every minute detail of his miserable life." The Wind has a slight jeer in his tone. "I listened to him in the last moments of his life, and he wasn't aware of my presence. And then... He breathed his last breath....."
"And awakened as a Hermit."
They frowned. They have no idea of how such a thing happened. Leron has never read it in his books, Vladstin did not hear any legends related to that, and Sangfroid was not taught by his Bishop about it. But they all have the same inkling, the same hunch...
That the presence of the Wind has something to do with it.
"You think so?" The Wind asked with a delighted tone. "I have something to do with my friend's transformation?"
Sangfroid frowned. "You can hear our thoughts?"
"I am the very air you breathe right now. You might have inhaled other winds before me, but you are now in my territory. I permeate through your lungs and give you life, and even to those with unlife, I can still go inside the gaps of spaces in your insides." The Wind explained. "Therefore... I am almost one with all of you. I am one with the Mountains."
This further strengthened their resolve that he was involved in the turning of the Hermit. Vladstin suggested. "Then what if because of that, you are the one who has given a dead man a new life? The wind is always associated with breathing, and breathing with life. You have created the Hermit."
"That is an interesting theory. I have created my friend." The Wind nodded. "Ah, but I have grown tired of this philosophizing on myself. It is time for you to gain the spotlight, you are the main characters in this story after all."
He made many dead leaves swirl and form a large pair of hands. The hands snapped, as he said. "This route is the farthest route towards the apex, where my dear friend the Hermit is. This is the safest route."
The hand pointed to the left.
Then, he added. "This route is the fastest route, only lasting a day's journey even with the heavy baggage you are carrying. It is also the most dangerous. You can conjure more empty husks to help carry the immobile for you, like the siren Ofelia, the crippled Sangfroid, and the tied-up Leron."
His hand pointed to slightly to the right.
The hands then clapped. "You should conjure a copy of yourselves traveling through the farther and easier route. I will fool my dear friend that these copies are you, for he can only have ears in this mountain through me."
It was a sound plan, but the three were bewildered. Why would this Wind be helping them if he considers the Hermit as a friend? Isn't this betraying him?
"Betrayal? Haha, I can never betray, for I am the Wind! I am in no one's side in the first place, not even the Hermit's, even when I consider him a friend." The hands made of dried leaves clapped merrily. "And besides, wasn't it I who created him according to your guesses? What shall I worry about if he did believe I betray him, since he could not have continued existing until now without me?"
The three did find it reasonable, though not moral. But one had made many immoral things, one has no morality at all, and one had learned to tolerate immorality.
And so, they set out to follow the Wind's plan with another word, until they finally achieve the goal they had long been wanting to achieve.
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The one who had gifted the goats the understanding of human language. He is the true Father of Goats, not the Hermit. He is also the one translating the Gargen language all this time.
But..... Who exactly is he? Why is he the Wind, and why is he different from the other winds in this world?
The Wind had already anticipated their questions about his identity. He moved in a swish, as he always does during his howling laughter that could cause large oak trees to fall down, and boulders to break apart from the mountain's facade and cause a landslide. But it was warm and menial, he doesn't really mean any harm by it, only delighted.
"It feels exhilarating to be finally talking to you in this favored form of mine." He said, his voice just as incomprehensible as the Fairy King or Queen, Mandrien. But it is not something deliberate, Mandrien uses their voice to be elusive.
The Wind is distinct, and its identity is masculine. Though the age could not be told apart using its voice in this 'favored form'. When he was pretending to be the Hermit by wearing a cloak of leaves and his goat mask, he had made it more gruff and gravelly, like an elderly. But now, you cannot tell if it was a child's, an adult man's, or someone far more older-sounding than the Hermit. What did not change....
Is the much more airy inflections in it. Like he is whispering, and yet it is audible.
"Your favored form is nothingness?" Vladstin raised an eyebrow. "Merely a breeze."
"Yes. Because this is my true and most beautiful form." The Wind answered with glee.
"Are you... a ghost?" Sangfroid asked. "Winds don't act this way, at least, the ones we encountered before never talked to us. So you must be a spirit, or a phantom."
"A phantom? A ghost? That is truly interesting indeed, for I have never met one in my whole life." The Wind replied. If it has a head, the trio can imagine that it was cocking it to the side, eyes twinkling with intrigue.
The Beast started with an annoyed tone, "Then what are you---" But then saw the others turn to him, and so he added a meek little, "Sir? We are truly at a loss of what to make of you, and what you want from us. Are you here to help us or.... to do the opposite, to further confuse us?"
The Wind laughed in howls again. "My, my, so impatient, you humans are."
"We are vampire lords, Sir Wind." Vladstin corrected. "Sangfroid is the only human left."
"Ah, but you were all humans once. I consider you still as humans, you have only changed. Just like the moon changing its phase, the seas changing the tides, the wind changing direction... You will, and always be, humans. Bound by emotions, thoughts, and identity of humans."
"Then what about you?" Sangfroid ask. "Are you different from us? Are you a creature that was never human?"
The Wind's jolly tone and swishing faltered a little, as he did not move. It seems that this question also made him ponder some things. He stopped for a while, letting himself be swayed by this momentary reflection, this momentary contemplation of his own identity and existence.
"If I was a human once, like you three good fellows, there is no use. Because I have no recollection of it, not a single trace on my self. I have always been the Wind." He replied succinctly, not really in a way to drop the matter, but revealing how disinterested and lackadaisical he is towards it.
Whether he learns the truth or not, he will simply let himself be carried by such whims.
"Why did you become connected to the Hermit, then? Do you know if he was also once human like us, or a creature with no recollection of being one like you?" Leron inquired.
The Wind is aware of the split inside him, of the Beast. He knows when it is the White One speaking, or the Black One is speaking. He has no impression of them, nor favors one over the other.
He has no impression on anyone at all. He does not have strong 'feelings'. They change, and they let them change as they wish.
Before, he wanted Leron to be out of the way. The Hermit wanted it to be Vladstin to be eradicated, so that there are only the humans left, Sangfroid and Leron. He thought that is no fun, for the much intriguing result would be Sangfroid and Vladstin.
He was the one guilty of turning Leron into a Vampire Lord. He had arranged this a long time ago, ever since he made a wager with his dear friend.
But now, he received something unexpected. The Beast had developed a connection with Sangfroid. Vladstin is having flashbacks that are triggered by his change. And Sangfroid himself treats Vladstin better, and yet still has the same level of affection for Leron.
And so, the Wind felt like he could not see what number the dice is rolling to anymore, and decided to just wait and observe.
The Wind is no ally or enemy, it goes on its own way. It sometimes tries to block you and trip you off your feet in strong sandstorms and blizzards. It sometimes helps the sails of ships to move forward. It is forever adaptive and yet its adaption does not rely on anyone but itself.
Unlike the Hermit, who is grounded, and stable. And yet they have been good friends ever since they met.
"The Hermit was once human." He answered, not in the mood to lie or hide or be vague. Its latest whim is to be as truthful as possible. "One who live and died hundreds of years ago on this mountain. Since then, we have shared this domain with one another."
The trio was shocked by this revelation. They have always assumed that the Hermit of the Libitinous Mountain is special compared to the other hermits of legend, and that it must have been alive since the existence of the mountain itself.
"How did he transform? Why?" Vladstin asked.
"I do not know. And I know many things that happen in this domain of ours. When he came here, he was groveling in the dirt, bloodied and wounded. He was delirious, spilling every secret and every minute detail of his miserable life." The Wind has a slight jeer in his tone. "I listened to him in the last moments of his life, and he wasn't aware of my presence. And then... He breathed his last breath....."
"And awakened as a Hermit."
They frowned. They have no idea of how such a thing happened. Leron has never read it in his books, Vladstin did not hear any legends related to that, and Sangfroid was not taught by his Bishop about it. But they all have the same inkling, the same hunch...
That the presence of the Wind has something to do with it.
"You think so?" The Wind asked with a delighted tone. "I have something to do with my friend's transformation?"
Sangfroid frowned. "You can hear our thoughts?"
"I am the very air you breathe right now. You might have inhaled other winds before me, but you are now in my territory. I permeate through your lungs and give you life, and even to those with unlife, I can still go inside the gaps of spaces in your insides." The Wind explained. "Therefore... I am almost one with all of you. I am one with the Mountains."
This further strengthened their resolve that he was involved in the turning of the Hermit. Vladstin suggested. "Then what if because of that, you are the one who has given a dead man a new life? The wind is always associated with breathing, and breathing with life. You have created the Hermit."
"That is an interesting theory. I have created my friend." The Wind nodded. "Ah, but I have grown tired of this philosophizing on myself. It is time for you to gain the spotlight, you are the main characters in this story after all."
He made many dead leaves swirl and form a large pair of hands. The hands snapped, as he said. "This route is the farthest route towards the apex, where my dear friend the Hermit is. This is the safest route."
The hand pointed to the left.
Then, he added. "This route is the fastest route, only lasting a day's journey even with the heavy baggage you are carrying. It is also the most dangerous. You can conjure more empty husks to help carry the immobile for you, like the siren Ofelia, the crippled Sangfroid, and the tied-up Leron."
His hand pointed to slightly to the right.
The hands then clapped. "You should conjure a copy of yourselves traveling through the farther and easier route. I will fool my dear friend that these copies are you, for he can only have ears in this mountain through me."
It was a sound plan, but the three were bewildered. Why would this Wind be helping them if he considers the Hermit as a friend? Isn't this betraying him?
"Betrayal? Haha, I can never betray, for I am the Wind! I am in no one's side in the first place, not even the Hermit's, even when I consider him a friend." The hands made of dried leaves clapped merrily. "And besides, wasn't it I who created him according to your guesses? What shall I worry about if he did believe I betray him, since he could not have continued existing until now without me?"
The three did find it reasonable, though not moral. But one had made many immoral things, one has no morality at all, and one had learned to tolerate immorality.
And so, they set out to follow the Wind's plan with another word, until they finally achieve the goal they had long been wanting to achieve.
The one who had gifted the goats the understanding of human language. He is the true Father of Goats, not the Hermit. He is also the one translating the Gargen language all this time.But..... Who exactly is he? Why is he the Wind, and why is he different from the other winds in this world?The Wind had already anticipated their questions about his identity. He moved in a swish, as he always does during his howling laughter that could cause large oak trees to fall down, and boulders to break apart from the mountain's facade and cause a landslide. But it was warm and menial, he doesn't really mean any harm by it, only delighted."It feels exhilarating to be finally talking to you in this favored form of mine." He said, his voice just as incomprehensible as the Fairy King or Queen, Mandrien. But it is not something deliberate, Mandrien uses their voice to be elusive. The Wind is distinct, and its identity is masculine. Though the age could not be told apart using its voice in this 'favored form'. When he was pretending to be the Hermit by wearing a cloak of leaves and his goat mask, he had made it more gruff and gravelly, like an elderly. But now, you cannot tell if it was a child's, an adult man's, or someone far more older-sounding than the Hermit. What did not change....Is the much more airy inflections in it. Like he is whispering, and yet it is audible."Your favored form is nothingness?" Vladstin raised an eyebrow. "Merely a breeze.""Yes. Because this is my true and most beautiful form." The Wind answered with glee. "Are you... a ghost?" Sangfroid asked. "Winds don't act this way, at least, the ones we encountered before never talked to us. So you must be a spirit, or a phantom.""A phantom? A ghost? That is truly interesting indeed, for I have never met one in my whole life." The Wind replied. If it has a head, the trio can imagine that it was cocking it to the side, eyes twinkling with intrigue.The Beast started with an annoyed tone, "Then what are you---" But then saw the others turn to him, and so he added a meek little, "Sir? We are truly at a loss of what to make of you, and what you want from us. Are you here to help us or.... to do the opposite, to further confuse us?" The Wind laughed in howls again. "My, my, so impatient, you humans are.""We are vampire lords, Sir Wind." Vladstin corrected. "Sangfroid is the only human left.""Ah, but you were all humans once. I consider you still as humans, you have only changed. Just like the moon changing its phase, the seas changing the tides, the wind changing direction... You will, and always be, humans. Bound by emotions, thoughts, and identity of humans.""Then what about you?" Sangfroid ask. "Are you different from us? Are you a creature that was never human?"The Wind's jolly tone and swishing faltered a little, as he did not move. It seems that this question also made him ponder some things. He stopped for a while, letting himself be swayed by this momentary reflection, this momentary contemplation of his own identity and existence."If I was a human once, like you three good fellows, there is no use. Because I have no recollection of it, not a single trace on my self. I have always been the Wind." He replied succinctly, not really in a way to drop the matter, but revealing how disinterested and lackadaisical he is towards it.Whether he learns the truth or not, he will simply let himself be carried by such whims."Why did you become connected to the Hermit, then? Do you know if he was also once human like us, or a creature with no recollection of being one like you?" Leron inquired.The Wind is aware of the split inside him, of the Beast. He knows when it is the White One speaking, or the Black One is speaking. He has no impression of them, nor favors one over the other.He has no impression on anyone at all. He does not have strong 'feelings'. They change, and they let them change as they wish.Before, he wanted Leron to be out of the way. The Hermit wanted it to be Vladstin to be eradicated, so that there are only the humans left, Sangfroid and Leron. He thought that is no fun, for the much intriguing result would be Sangfroid and Vladstin.He was the one guilty of turning Leron into a Vampire Lord. He had arranged this a long time ago, ever since he made a wager with his dear friend.But now, he received something unexpected. The Beast had developed a connection with Sangfroid. Vladstin is having flashbacks that are triggered by his change. And Sangfroid himself treats Vladstin better, and yet still has the same level of affection for Leron.And so, the Wind felt like he could not see what number the dice is rolling to anymore, and decided to just wait and observe.The Wind is no ally or enemy, it goes on its own way. It sometimes tries to block you and trip you off your feet in strong sandstorms and blizzards. It sometimes helps the sails of ships to move forward. It is forever adaptive and yet its adaption does not rely on anyone but itself.Unlike the Hermit, who is grounded, and stable. And yet they have been good friends ever since they met."The Hermit was once human." He answered, not in the mood to lie or hide or be vague. Its latest whim is to be as truthful as possible. "One who live and died hundreds of years ago on this mountain. Since then, we have shared this domain with one another."The trio was shocked by this revelation. They have always assumed that the Hermit of the Libitinous Mountain is special compared to the other hermits of legend, and that it must have been alive since the existence of the mountain itself."How did he transform? Why?" Vladstin asked."I do not know. And I know many things that happen in this domain of ours. When he came here, he was groveling in the dirt, bloodied and wounded. He was delirious, spilling every secret and every minute detail of his miserable life." The Wind has a slight jeer in his tone. "I listened to him in the last moments of his life, and he wasn't aware of my presence. And then... He breathed his last breath.....""And awakened as a Hermit."They frowned. They have no idea of how such a thing happened. Leron has never read it in his books, Vladstin did not hear any legends related to that, and Sangfroid was not taught by his Bishop about it. But they all have the same inkling, the same hunch...That the presence of the Wind has something to do with it."You think so?" The Wind asked with a delighted tone. "I have something to do with my friend's transformation?"Sangfroid frowned. "You can hear our thoughts?""I am the very air you breathe right now. You might have inhaled other winds before me, but you are now in my territory. I permeate through your lungs and give you life, and even to those with unlife, I can still go inside the gaps of spaces in your insides." The Wind explained. "Therefore... I am almost one with all of you. I am one with the Mountains."This further strengthened their resolve that he was involved in the turning of the Hermit. Vladstin suggested. "Then what if because of that, you are the one who has given a dead man a new life? The wind is always associated with breathing, and breathing with life. You have created the Hermit.""That is an interesting theory. I have created my friend." The Wind nodded. "Ah, but I have grown tired of this philosophizing on myself. It is time for you to gain the spotlight, you are the main characters in this story after all."He made many dead leaves swirl and form a large pair of hands. The hands snapped, as he said. "This route is the farthest route towards the apex, where my dear friend the Hermit is. This is the safest route."The hand pointed to the left.Then, he added. "This route is the fastest route, only lasting a day's journey even with the heavy baggage you are carrying. It is also the most dangerous. You can conjure more empty husks to help carry the immobile for you, like the siren Ofelia, the crippled Sangfroid, and the tied-up Leron."His hand pointed to slightly to the right.The hands then clapped. "You should conjure a copy of yourselves traveling through the farther and easier route. I will fool my dear friend that these copies are you, for he can only have ears in this mountain through me."It was a sound plan, but the three were bewildered. Why would this Wind be helping them if he considers the Hermit as a friend? Isn't this betraying him?"Betrayal? Haha, I can never betray, for I am the Wind! I am in no one's side in the first place, not even the Hermit's, even when I consider him a friend." The hands made of dried leaves clapped merrily. "And besides, wasn't it I who created him according to your guesses? What shall I worry about if he did believe I betray him, since he could not have continued existing until now without me?"The three did find it reasonable, though not moral. But one had made many immoral things, one has no morality at all, and one had learned to tolerate immorality.And so, they set out to follow the Wind's plan with another word, until they finally achieve the goal they had long been wanting to achieve.
