Between The Lines

Chapter 1

   I sat on the edge of the porch, gazing out onto the lake and through the forest. Laughter and conversation behind me, I spaced out enjoying the scenery. It smelled musty and of vague cinnamon, of course it was vastly overwhelmed by the smell of rain and the lake, but it added to the dreary atmosphere. The wood I sat on was damp to begin with, and while I wasn't directly in the downpour I wasn't dry either. The pine trees did little but provide unneeded shade.

     I assumed it was late afternoon, but I felt so tired I couldn't really tell.  We were supposed to be celebrating, but I didn't feel it in my heart. We've been doing well, don't get me wrong, but there's something unsettling about how desperate the authorities are to retrieve these pages. No one's sure of their intentions, and they're already known to make morally gray decisions thanks to our newly elected officials. They promised us a new future, but I'm wondering if they'll change it for the worse.

     Regardless, this is still my job, this is what keeps me fed, what keeps me going. I enjoy what I do, and I don't want to lose it. I took a deep breath of the frigid air, and directed my thoughts towards how we're to progress from here. There's only so many pages in a book, but grimoires are different. The pages can be added, though never removed, without limit. When the necromancer distributed the pages, she didn't have a lot of time. While we don't know how many pages we have left, we do know that she had a lot to hide. We've been searching without a set plan, and it's very difficult to locate the pages outside of the obvious, but because of what Marielle's team reported, we know that there's more we can't find willy nilly.

    Perhaps there's a pattern? Without meaning to, we generally fall into them, and in such a rush perhaps the necromancer didn't consider to counter that nature. I couldn't recall entirely where on the map specifically, so I couldn't put together a pattern at the moment. Maybe I should head inside and figure that out.

     I came out here to clear my head, so much for that, but I wish to give that another attempt before heading back. I stared further down the hill at the lake, watching the murky surface ripple over and over, reflecting the gray clouds weeping above. I opted to drown the faint presence of laughter and hearth with the pitter patter of the droplets. From the lower sound of it hitting the trunks to the more subtle staccato of the leaves, I listened closely for the croaks of the frogs around, as if I were involved in their lives.

     And in that small moment, it was a lonely bit of peace. I knew I didn't do well in conversations. I just got talked over and I wasn't included no matter how much I tried. It couldn't be helped though, I just wasn't there with them, I had other things to do. It's nice to exchange stories and joke around though. There's always that so I know they are my friends. Still, more often than not I'm left out, and it's become rather disheartening.

    Yet again my mind slipped into that, and I had to focus on how my clothes were collecting moisture simply by just sitting near the rain, how it began to make me feel heavy. The wind would hurry through and in the process sends chills down as if I were exposed. Perhaps it would be best if I returned inside, but that would only bring a different kind of exhaustion. I decided in closing my eyes this time.

     It smelled musty, and of dirt. Which shouldn't be a surprise. This cabin was nearly abandoned for who knows how long. Actually that was a bit suspicious, I meant to investigate the area more thoroughly, but despite that bad feeling in my chest we didn't find anything wrong. Maybe the lingering discomfort is just the residing embarrassment from how I inconvenienced everyone into searching. I was the only one who felt off, even Milo felt pity about it. I hope I was just paranoid.

   I huddled my limbs close, to feel some semblance of warmth. I began to drift, albeit unwillingly, but my eyes were already closed, and my breathing had been steady. The creak of the door's hinges and the creaking of the wood under someone's feet jolted me back up.  My eyelids snapped themselves open. Alert, I swiveled my head behind me, but I reasoned it wasn't a threat if it were coming from behind me, so it was more of a curious turn. Milo closed the door behind him, and sat down next to me.