The Concordia Quarantine Blues

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Closed to Rayse.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

My forehead banged lightly against the second-story window overlooking the town of Illendale. It was raining heavily; had been for the past two days. But that sort of thing always has to happen whenever you're taking a business trip, right? If you got to be back in two days, the gods find a way to make it ten. Monsoon, earthquake, forest fire, random civil war--yeah, they don't care. As long as you're late getting back to where you have to be, they're pleased with their handiwork and set about finding the next unlucky schmuck.

Case in point: I was on a book run in Underwood. A seller from Fallien had gotten their grubby mitts on some copies of books on occult magic that were otherwise nigh-impossible to obtain. I paid some good gold for those, and planned on copying down everything for my own records before putting them in the glass case behind my register with a sizable markup for the next guy to drool over.

Whereas said books are supposed to be in my store in three days, they are currently lying on the floor in a neat stack with a microscopic layer of dust settling on their worn leather covers. "Damn weather," I growled to nobody in particular as I continued to bang my head against the window in boredom. I at least had the good graces to remember my notebooks and pencils this trip. For the better part of the past two days, I've been cooped up in this dank inn, trying to make sense of the black scrawls and diagrams that littered the yellowed pages. But, there's just so much of the shady dealings of the underworld that a girl can take before she gets bored.

I could hear the voices of the other people stuck in this forsaken backwoods village due to the shitty weather coming up through the floorboards. Yeah, sure, there's a decent bar downstairs, but I wasn't really feeling up for a drink.

But then again, ol' Maddy is starting to go a wee bit stir crazy, sitting up here in her room all by her lonesome...

I weighed my options for a brief moment. Either I could sit here and enjoy my privacy, or I could sit downstairs and enjoy a good drink. Both had their downsides--on one hand, I was faced with utter boredom; on the other, the possibility of social interaction. I wasn't sure which one I was afraid of more.

Several minutes passed, the incessant pattering of rain on the roof of the inn breaking the silence. With a heavy sigh, I made up my mind. I slipped out of the battered wooden chair, grabbed a couple of coins off of the nightstand, and made my way downstairs to quench my thirst.

[Rayse Valentino]

Home. The place you belong. It was something Rayse hadn't had in a long time. The chilly morning air was his daily reminder of where he was born back in Knife's Edge, Salvar. The long, cold winters. The feeling of snow under his palm, the taste of a beer so icy that a chill ran down his throat as he drank. With these sensations lost to him, he felt like he was always in a foreign place. He had a warmth that wouldn't go away, a dazing sensation of heat that followed him wherever he went. No matter what he did, he couldn't just relax and lose himself like he did back in Salvar. He couldn't let go of his worries, his fears, and ultimately he lost sight of his goals in this world.

Back in Salvar, Rayse had three things that he always wanted: Wealth, power, and control. To live his life to the fullest. To ascend to a higher level of existence. To take orders from no one. For the longest time, he only had control.

His self-determination lead him down a variety of dark paths, and he had no regrets. Then, he found wealth. Not just money, but the true wealth of the security of his lifestyle. He could go anywhere, do anything, and not worry about how to pay for it, or if he had to agree to any stipulations. Finally, he found power. Strength of mind, body, and spirit to move through those that would stand in his way. With all his goals met, there was only one thing to do: Push all three to the limit- become the wealthiest, have the most power, exert the most control. In his pursuit of what could be infinity, he lost what he had started with: Control. The power that brought him new opportunities also brought him consequences.

He didn't know how long ago it was now, but he started noticing something odd. His body was slowly turning into pure fire. Sometimes his limbs would pass through objects he would try to move, other times he felt his very balance start slipping in the wind. Dying was always a possibility in his line of dangerous work, but he never managed he could simply fade away. Done in by some sort of magical sickness. After finally gaining what could be all the tools needed for him to become something great, he was on the verge of losing it all.

So, he sought a cure. Taking him through some of the most desolate regions of Althanas, he searched for his own salvation. It was a daunting task, not only for how little he had to go on, but for the effect it was having on his conscience. What meaning was there to his existence? If he took The Company beyond the clouds and secured for himself the most exclusive lifestyle of all mankind, what would be left? A feeling of unfettered despair came creeping in, invading his thoughts. When he lived in Knife's Edge, he simply tried to survive, hoping for a better life someday. What could he do now? Eventually, he managed to find something. A rune specialist converted some magical artifacts into pill form, and told him to take a couple every day.

He should've been ecstatic that he secured his survival, but the journey had taken its toll on him. He felt like he had discovered a lack of purpose, a lack of meaning to his existence. Maybe if he returned to his schemes, he would find what it was he was meant to do in this world. So, that seemed like the only option available to him. However, there was one little detail that made his plans much more difficult: He had to take the medication for two years. Two years of not knowing whether or not he could stick around or burn out.

"I'm warning you: Don't take anymore than two. You could recover faster, sure, but the side-effects would be severe. Violent, aggressive tendencies, loss of memory, nauseousness, maybe even complete loss of control of your entire body. Don't do it."

Those were the words spoken to him by his 'doctor'. However, Rayse had already made up his mind. He had no time to wait around. So, he began his greatest ordeal of all: Trying to turn two years of medication into two months. That was at least three times the recommended dosage per day. He would remake himself anew, starting with his most important and cherished goal: Control.

"... Ugh... W-where am I... ?" asked a groggy Rayse, finding himself on the ground in the woods.

The sun was nowhere to be seen as the afternoon was drenched in showers. The heavy rain pierced through the canopy of the trees, and as Rayse got up he rubbed the sand out of his eyes. His back hurt, his throat was sore, and his eyes itched. His clothes were wet and dirty. Quite a heavy sleeper apparently, as it had been raining for a little while now. Standing in a particularly dry spot, he figured that he must've been wandering around in the rain before crashing here.

Waking up like this was depressing. He needed to get some booze down his throat, and fast. Looking about his person, he discovered that he had lost his traveling bag again. Luckily he never seemed to lose his essential belongings in his pockets, but it was still annoying. Crunching twigs between his shoes, he started walking in the direction of a clearing. It was actually a dirt road, and Rayse could only guess that he was on it yesterday.

Time was another sensation that was lost to Rayse recently. Taking too much of his medication left lasting holes in his memory. Sometimes it was only the last day, other times it was more. Since he knew he had to keep taking his pills yet keep his sanity intact, he had days in which he took half a dozen to a dozen pills, and other days when he took the standard two to get his bearings together. On the influence of the medication, Rayse probably did questionable, maybe even extreme things, and apparently drugged-up Rayse liked to travel. Every time he woke up from one of his binges he was somewhere new and feeling like shit. It was like a journey of sorts. Living day by day, in a way he was experiencing life from a different vantage point. Instead of staring at the sun, he was staring ahead. Not worrying about lofty goals like fame, power, or fortune, he was simply trying to survive, filling his life with the hope of yet another day to spend under the sun. Maybe after all of this, he would come out with the answer he was looking for. Or maybe he'll be consumed not only by the rune of fire that controls his body, but by his own despair.

So...

Where was he this time?