The picture was hideous, his whole face looked like it had been run over by a carriage. His black hair was draw too long, well past his shoulder when in reality it didn't go past his ears. But that wasn't all that wrong with it. His hair naturally spiked up making him always look like he had just woken up, but in the picture in fell flat and into his eyes. The only thing the bounty poster had right was the color of his eyes in the description that read:
Riptide Florence Dublin wanted for conspiring
against the kingdom.
5,000 Golden Crowns to be brought in alive.
Physical Description:
Dark Brown hair
(Rip rolled his eyes at this one. They had been so close)
Eyes of varying color
(At least they got that right)
Height of 5'4"
(Rip snorted. He was 5'8")
18 years of age
(Rip wasn't surprised that his foster father didn't know his age and had given him an extra two years)
Warning: Fugitive may be dangerous. Use
caution while hunting.
Riptide found himself smiling at the last part, which they had made another mistake on. Danger wasn't just a possibility while hunting him; it would be a guarantee. With a shake of his head, Rip torn the flyer off the storefront window and stuffed it in his pocket. It wasn't everyday he got to be a fugitive worth so much money. He found it oddly satisfying and wanted something to keep with him as a reminder. The king obviously cared about him in some way. Sure it was never in the protective fatherly way he had always craved for, but to Rip being hated was better than being ignored.
In a way the poster hadn't even gotten his name right. If anyone had ever cared about him they would know he didn't go by Riptide Florence Dublin. He was Riptide Allens. When his father had thrown him away and the king had kept him prisoner for six years Rip decided he wasn't a part of either of their families. The only person who had loved him, truly loved him, was his mother. She had died shortly after giving birth to him, but he knew she had to have loved him. Another way of thinking would have destroyed him long ago. So he took her maiden name, Allens.
Riptide Florence Dublin had died long ago, if he had even existed in the first place. 'No.' Rip thought about it. He had been that boy, that Riptide with both his "fathers's" names. He had been that boy for years when he had trained as a good little knight in the king's army.
Following orders without a second thought because that was what he had been taught his whole life. Riptide Allens had just been born. The second he became a fugitive and started to think for himself. This new Riptide could not be controlled. He was his own man now and no one could stop him, not even the king himself.
If King Florence had hoped the high bounty on his head would frighten Riptide, he would be sorely disappointed. Instead of fear, Rip felt a new strength fill him. Before he had been unsure of what he was doing, but the king had shown him what he needed to see. Rip was once a slave to the king's army. He used to believe in valor and dying for a good cause; fighting the fight against music, but that have never been something he had believed in. He had done it for his king, his father, in hope that he wouldn't be disowned again. But the cause hadn't been the right one. Music and it's vessels had never done anything to him, unlike the king he had fought.
Walking down the street and toward the city StoneCold, Riptide realized he had a new meaning in his life now. A meaning in the form of a short girl with a world of insanity in her eyes.
* * *
A desert, vast and dry, formed right before Rip's eyes. It was beautiful in a peaceful, clear sort of place.
"This is perfect." He thought looking out into the vast nothingness. It was calming; a perfect place to just sit down and think. Rip never really had time to meditate, but sure needed a de-stresser. A lot had changed in the past month and it dispite everything he had to just keep going and worry about the consequences later. Maybe soon he would have time to figure out just exactly what he thought he was doing. But that time wasn't today.
It started as a low buzzing in his head that soon turned into a searing pain in his back and face. It felt like he was being bitten by thousands of fire ants, but there wasn't a creature in sight. Screaming, Rip swatted at the invisible enemy until it finally left him with a burning fire all across his skin.
* * *
Rip woke spasming on the streets of an abandoned StoneCold. The city had been hollowed out, its festive buildings crumbling. At first he was sure he was just dreaming, the city couldn't be left like the hollowed out shell of a molting beetle. It was the middle of the week, the middle of the Winter Festival.
Walking through the rubble, Rip felt himself drift away. He felt like he was floating on water, bobbing up and down in the currents.
The world around him grayed and people appeared around him. Cheering and dancing. The Winter Festival.
Rip dived out of the way as a horse drawn cage was pulled allow the street right where he had been. There! In the cage Creak sat with her face pressed against the bars.
She looked out at the people with sorrow as if the festival wasn't the most joyful event in the world. The wind carried a soft melody as the girl began to hum. It was beautiful and added more to the festival. Rip felt as if it were meant to be there all along. Did music and festivals go together? What else had been made lesser with the loss of music in Florencia?
The man beside Creak ripped his hand out of her's and covered her mouth. They exchanged a look that Rip took as a warning. Music was dangerous and forbidden. Riptide had been sent after Creak to kill her for such a thing after all.
Rip gasped and stumbled as the world came back into color. It was disorienting, like the water he had been flowing in had suddenly swallowed him whole. His head stabbed with pain and the world spun.
'What was that!' He thought in fear and pain.
Walking through the streets Rip soon found himself in a plaza. More than ready to heave up his last meal, he took in the bloodbath in front of him. The smell of death and decay filled the air choking him.
Hundreds of bodies littered the area, staining the stones red. It had been a massacre and Rip couldn't help but wonder what kind of thing could cause so much death. The bodies were about a week old.
'What if it's still here!' Rip spun in a circle looking for any danger, but all was silent. Whatever had been there was now gone.
Walking through the bodies with tears in his, Rip's world became black and white once again.
The citizens of StoneCold ran in a frenzied mass, many being trampled in the process. None of them lasted very long as the siren Rip had seen in an earlier dream ripped them apart one by one. He closed his eyes and screamed. No matter how hard he pressed his hands against his ears he couldn't get ride of their screams. Screams of pain and horror; the screams of the dead.
When he finally opened his eyes, Creak and the young man were running across the plaza with the beast breathing down their necks.
Rip was sure they were going to make it, but suddenly Creak stopped. She scrambled to pick up a little girl, her stomach a bloody mess.
'She's not going to make it!' Rip watched in horror as a brutal looking man grabbed Creak's leg sending her to the ground.
Rip didn't even know he was running until he was right on top of the nightmare playing out in front of him. Creak struggled to get away from the man and the beast which was now right above her.
The young man ran out from behind a building yelling. He had nothing to defend himself with, yet he ran right at the beast as if it couldn't kill him with one swipe of it's nasty claws.
'They're both going to die!' Rip thought with horror as he tried to grab the beast to hold it back. His hands slipped right through it like it wasn't even there.
The man slammed his foot down in the hand that held Creak to the ground. Picking her up they ran for their lives. The beast was right behind them and Rip didn't know how they did it. Creak and her new companion made it out of StoneCold.
Rip fell to his knees and threw up. At least he knew Creak was still alive, he just needed to know where she was going.
Not really knowing what he was trying to do, Rip closed his eyes and forced a picture of Creak into his mind. Strange visions had been coming to him without a pattern, but maybe he could create one.
"Come on." He thought aloud. "Show me where she went."
The blackout that had left him on the streets of StoneCold came back to him. He had seen a desert, but he hadn't seen Creak.
How was he supposed to know if that was where she went?
"Maybe some fresh air will help me think."
Walking through the plaza, Riptide tried to follow the way Creak had gone in his vision. Maybe if he followed her path he would find a trail to follow.
He found a small door that led out of the city's wall and he was sure it was the way she had gone. Pushing out through the door Rip found himself in the pine forest. Taking a deep breath he focused on his surroundings.
"Come on!" Rip's head exploded with more pain. "Why wouldn't you work!"
He sighed and shook his head. Maybe he was just going crazy. Maybe he was unconsciously making the visions up.
Kicking at the pine needles under his feet Rip began to run. Running helped him focus and helped him get out his anger. He put all his frustration into making his feet go faster.
He had trained for endurance as a knight and could run for hours without tiring. And that's exactly what he did.
He ran until the only pain he felt was in his legs and side. His headache eased away as he focused on only moving his feet in a steady, fast pace.
He wanted to run away from all his problems. He wanted running to give him the solution his own thoughts couldn't find.
What was he even doing? Running after a girl who probably hated him. He had told her he would kill her the next time they met. Could he ever convince her that he would never harm her? Would she ever even trust him?
Rip let these thought go to the wind as he ran until he couldn't run anymore.
Tripping over his fatigued legs, Rip fell face first into a snow drift. He wasn't sure when the ground had changed from pine needle to snow, but he didn't really care.
Picking himself up, Rip found himself right outside of a small, rotting shack. It felt like a sign, though in the buildings condition the sign probably wasn't too good.
"Why?" He wondered to himself. Why had he fallen here? Why did it feel so important?
Walking through the snow, Rip went into shack. His vision tuning black and white.
Creak and her companion were packing up the few supplies they had. A canteen of water and a few dried strips of meat. Rip forced himself to hold onto the vision as the two walked out of the shack.
He followed them as they walked making little small talk. Rip wasn't sure where they were going, but as long as he stayed in the vision he wouldn't have to know.
He knew they couldn't see him, so he didn't bother trying to stay a safe distance away. Walking beside Creak, Rip laughed how much shorter she was. He found it adorable and wished more than anything that she was really, truly there beside him. Unconsciously his hand brushed hers and went through it as if she was a ghost.
He only walked for a few minutes before his head began to pound. He didn't want to leave the vision. He didn't want to wake up to find himself alone again.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Rip continued forward. He felt himself hold the vision with everything he had, but it became too much. He slipped and the color came back.
Rip felt like someone was pounding a nail into his skull. He couldn't let himself stop. He had to keep going, with or without the black and white. He wouldn't give up now. He knew he wasn't close, but that didn't matter. As long as Creak was out there, he would find her.