The Wanderer

Quintus

"Another group of my children burned. I must find who is doing this," he thinks to himself. It does not matter he has never been to the city, that he doesn't know who these were. They all came from him. He is the alpha and omega that the book stole from him. He will be the first and the last, the beginning and end. Even if he is tired of hearing his words come from those pesky humans. He wishes he had never spent time with those trying to make everyone better. It would have been better if they all stayed the way they were. Living in small groups only worrying about their next meal, next sleep, and next day. His life was easier that way. He could feed and disappear, only choosing to be around when he wanted to. But no, he had to get close to them and teach them. Then when the fae took notice he saw her. He couldn't help himself. He thought he had found an equal. So he followed her wanting to learn, then once he did, he got closer and her scent. He couldn't stop himself. But he learned something much more valuable. That he could do more than destroy, he could create. And it didn't take much. So he hid and started to experiment. First, he made women, to see how they changed. Then he learned they could breed more, so he began making men. He made his own little village and sent them out to populate but with rules. And those rules had stern punishments. It only took 3 for the rest to learn. But as his creations got older and more and more existed they stopped breeding like humans. Now there were no more children to grow.

He missed the children. He would not create one that was a child, it was disastrous. They never grew or changed. They never learned past the age they were. He had destroyed too many to try any further. But he still had hope. Once he had discovered who was destroying his beautiful creations, he would search for her. To see her again is what he secretly lived for. The last time he had caught her glimpse, she was being thrown from her kind, and she was angry. Then she disappeared. But he would find her. He had to because, like him, he was sure she was still alive. Sure that she had not ended it. Surely he would have felt that. He felt all the others. That is why he came to this place. This cold city in the north. As usual, he wondered if finding the killer was worth it. He had his walled city hidden in the mountains away from prying eyes. So deep that the humans could not find it because they dared not go that far. He also had the island, which no one was allowed to set foot on, in case they did venture up the mountain. He had plenty of his children for company. Why did he continue to leave his safe home for those who chose to leave?

Sometimes he hated his memory, how long it was, and all that had happened to him. The time before he had a name when he was just the thing in the dark. Like the animals, he hunted before he found the humans. Before he learned to speak he just made sounds and dug into the dirt from the bright ball that hurt him. When he wondered why it hurt him until he found out the truth, that it was his skin that was the problem. Pale but dark, soft yet hard. It still amazed him how those words described everything about him. His skin, his hair, his eyes, his mind, his life. It was like they were created just for him. Then he searched for a name, once he discovered speech and humans. It seemed to take forever but no time at all. He visited all the places the humans were congregating until he found the word he liked the best. Just like with his first humans. He took his time, deciding which should be food, and which should be one of his children. He did everything slowly now because he could. He had the time. Maybe he would go home. These deaths would not be the last. He could get closer to the one who did it the next time they struck. It was getting farther and farther apart as well. He had plenty of time because most of his children came home now.

Those that were left were made by children and tho they were his, they were not the same. He had not met these, nor cared for them. They did not share his house or heart. Maybe in time, but not yet, and for ignoring his summons they deserved their fate. He only came now because of how close they had gotten to his mountain, for whatever had happened could easily get to him now too. He will give this city a few more days. It is too late to go home now, and he would rather not dig through the icy earth. Besides maybe he will find something worth bringing back to his children in his time here.