What do you fear Vlad Talon?

A rough, handsomely weathered man sat on a large rock, wood chips clinging to his pants and sprinkling the ground around his feet. His long, dark brown hair fell about his tanned face, revealing streaks of red running thru the strands. When caught at the right angle in the sun, his hair flashed and danced a reddish hue, with seeming vigor and aliveness that mirrored the smile toying across this gentleman's clean-shaven face. His eyes were fixed intently on what he held in his hands, an unformed chunk of wood that he was slowly breathing life into with each shave of his knife.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Not a heavy, uncomfortable silence, but a thoughtful one as Vlad pondered the question posed to him. Wood chips continued to fall about the ground as if a manifestation of the thought process within him. Finally, his laughing blue eyes looked out over the river that they sat next to, then he turned and looked deep into the eyes of the lady asking him this question.

What do I fear? Tis true we all have fears. Some fear for their lives. Some fear those that oppress their existence. Me....

There was a long pause as Vlad, the smile never leaving his face, turned from the lady next to him and returned to carving the wood.

Me... I fear death of desire and passion. I fear the absence of motivation and caring. I fear not longing for the touch of a lady. I fear wishing to be left to rot and decay in the notion I have accomplished enough, proven all that is necessary.

Though the body may live long, tis what be in our hearts and our soul that defines our existence. To think that the journey has somehow ended ... or was ended for us ... is the first death. All other "deaths" are a formality, an accounting process that nature attends to. Tis the "first" death, the death of all those things I have mentioned that I fear

The wood shavings continue to fall about the ground as Vlad's words seemingly hang in the air. All that could be heard for several moments was the sounds of water swirling by and the scraping noise of Vlad's blade chipping away at the wood. The lady next to him looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. Her dress draped lighly down to her ankles and occasionally the whisper of a breeze toyed at its fringes. Then, she turned from him, drew her knees to her chest, clasped her arms around her shins, and nestled her chin between her knees, pondering his words peacefully.

Suddenly, the noise stopped and Vlad stood tall over the slender woman. Her eyes looked up into his smiling face and adjusted to the light coming from around his muscular body. He extended to her a curious object. With a twinkle in his eyes, he spoke to her.

For ye, milady. Thank thee for thy company

She took what he offered her, but before she could say anything, he strode off into the trees, a heavy axe swinging lightly in one hand. She could hear a faint whistling or humming as he disappeared amongst the trees.

Finally, she looked at what he had given her and her eyes widened.

It was a carven lady, sprawled in a relaxed pose by the riverside, dipping her fingers playfully into the water. All that she wore was a loose fitting robe that was belted lightly at her thin waist. The legs of the carven lady extended onto the grass as she sat sideways gazing into the river with a tilted head. Much of her body was revealed and the rest could be discerned by the form of the robe barely hanging onto her. Behind the relaxed lady sat the still body of a recently dead wolf, no more than a few paces from her, an arrow shaft protruding from its body. The ripples erupting from her fingertips revealed the face of a man, smiling, reflecting from the water's surface.

-Vlad Talon

Other Vlad Talon Stories:

Lost Sheep - May 13, 1998
Revelations: Eagle or Trout? - May 14, 1998
The Seed that Blossoms - May 18, 1998
Tomes of the Soul - May 20, 1998
Chestnuts and Ebony - May 21, 1998
Passion Waves - June 1, 1998
Bow and Daisy - July 9, 1998