The Garden of Life is Calling

They looked haggard and worn, walking in front of Ergot at a slow, tired pace. He felt the urge to touch them and soothe them, but he didn't. He just casually followed, intently thinking, keeping an eye on the group. There were an unknown number of them, faces unseen, cloaked and hooded. Flitting from the trees' shadows, they were at times too many to count, at other times, just one person with the ability to multiply. They were frightened. Their gait was defiant and cautious, and as Ergot continued to study them, he felt his body tensing in their auras. They may have been running from something. They had the feel of a cult, a shared idea. They had the feeling of beauty in their veins, and oppression shading them. In the aftermath of the night at the ball, it was understandable. Ergot didn't exactly know for certain, but there was a ripple effect that cascaded from the walls of the king's castle. It encircled the individuals of Darkworld far away and close. Factions grouped up, were created, and shattered. It was well seen and felt. Ergot was still close to his previous world. Perhaps just a matter of short walking distance from the kingdom's hallowed halls did the bard stand, and what was he doing? Probably following enemies of the men and women with their blood splattered everywhere. Most likely, they were the enemies of some dead body that he played to. Ergot shuddered at his own actions the night before. He sped up slightly, curious and full of endangering courage.

He didn't know what to do, and as they walked through the mid afternoon, the moonlight filtering through the trees, the crows crying in the distance. Ergot was still unfamiliar with the particular pharmakia. Thinking about it in deep thought hurt. After such a night, it was bothersome to continue to stand at times. Was it the drug that invaded him? Or was it the drinking, the dancing, the madness? He had no idea. A slight twinge of pain grasped from inside his temples. Had he not noticed the pain before? Ergot reached up with one finger, lightly brushing aside his hair and rubbing the throb from within. it did not cease, but he was eased by his own touch just the same.

Ergot was getting more courageous, but with sanity comes awareness. He didn't know of their weapons. He did not know their state of mind. To come up from behind after following them for so long was suicide. To touch them was his life's bane. So calmly, fluently, Ergot stayed behind, walking at a steady pace and staying quiet. Carefully he watched the ground, trying not to disturb the forest floor, trying not to draw attention. He was the dutiful shadow to them. He could have been their servant, their king, their one and lonely. He felt a bond forming between him and the unknown figures, trudging through the darkened forest. To meet them was his goal. Anything else was just a side effect and bonus and consequence. Bowing his head, Ergot wove around the trees and cast his eyes down, focusing on forces within.