When was the last time there was a sign in the heavens? Is Bast trying to get Black's attention?
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CatKnight: ...(Bast) only hoped these people could convince Heyward to resume the fight. Not that they seemed all that bright, even by human standards...Bast hissed a short command and slowly the clouds swirled away revealing a widening circle of stars.
as the Cherokee live to the west of Charleston, and John and Family are looking for Tom...
all that circle has to do is expose the 'Star' to the west for Tom to see a 'Star' in the East ! ! awesome ! !
oh, and you can bet your bottom dollar that the Cherokee with Tom will bring the 'Star' to his attention ! !
magnificent update ! !
as the Cherokee live to the west of Charleston, and John and Family are looking for Tom...
all that circle has to do is expose the 'Star' to the west for Tom to see a 'Star' in the East ! ! awesome ! !
oh, and you can bet your bottom dollar that the Cherokee with Tom will bring the 'Star' to his attention ! !
magnificent update ! !
Great updates, I'm glad I'm caught up again. Sad to see Waymouth go, but Foster seems to be making amends for her earlier behavior.
Oh, and then there's the new push for a stronger Union in Philadelphia, the near-war in Virginia, Tom's grappling with his angelic side... Lots going on, the pace has certainly picked up tremendously.
Oh, and then there's the new push for a stronger Union in Philadelphia, the near-war in Virginia, Tom's grappling with his angelic side... Lots going on, the pace has certainly picked up tremendously.
Oh, don't take it the wrong way. I'm easily amused by bright colors.CatKnight said:dublish: Hmf! Maybe we should just let him comment and I'll be quiet for a bit
That just HAS to be the star of Christmas...of course, that star *did* stand still, so maybe not, but that was the first thing that came to my mind.
Anyway, great updates. The plot is certainly thickening and it seems we are getting prepared for a major showdown!
Anyway, great updates. The plot is certainly thickening and it seems we are getting prepared for a major showdown!
Fulcrumvale: That's a matter of speculation.
Abraxas: Hmm...good question.
Chief Ragusa: True, it could be anyone gathering energy. As for outrunning Tom - well, she's a cat. Cats are good at getting away from people annoyed with them. Trust me.
alex994: Maybe!
GhostWriter: That's the other possibility - that Tom or his Cherokee 'friends' will see the star and come investigate.
Mettermrck: ...or maybe Bast likes pretty lights.
Stuyvesant: That's a good sign then. The pace SHOULD be picking up, for we are starting to drift lazily towards the end of our tale.
dublish: Oh, in that case...
LewsTherin: And the star would be a bit early since it's still the first part of November, but the similarities are interesting...
*******
Slight delay for a final edit. Please stand by :X
Abraxas: Hmm...good question.
Chief Ragusa: True, it could be anyone gathering energy. As for outrunning Tom - well, she's a cat. Cats are good at getting away from people annoyed with them. Trust me.
alex994: Maybe!
GhostWriter: That's the other possibility - that Tom or his Cherokee 'friends' will see the star and come investigate.
Mettermrck: ...or maybe Bast likes pretty lights.
Stuyvesant: That's a good sign then. The pace SHOULD be picking up, for we are starting to drift lazily towards the end of our tale.
dublish: Oh, in that case...
LewsTherin: And the star would be a bit early since it's still the first part of November, but the similarities are interesting...
*******
Slight delay for a final edit. Please stand by :X
-= 219 =-
Cherokee Country
November 1784
Evening in Echota, the fortified town the Cherokee built (with covert French support) to hold off first British then American invaders. Evening near the beginning of what promised to be a brutal winter, for even Tom couldn't simply create food. He could attract beasts from miles around and had done so repeatedly preventing starvation.
But at what cost? By now the Indians were split over their new champion. For every soul who believed him a savior, a sacred spirit who'd killed the insane Chesmu and now made the most of a bad situation serving as both shaman and chief, there were two who thought him cut off from the Great Spirit. Did he not fight a cat spirit with flamed fur? Didn't the continued sacrifice of food help create the famine they now faced? His attempts to save them would in time kill or drive away all the animals. It would take years for the forest to recover and they would have to move. Whatever he was, he did not revere nature and so could not love the Spirit.
Stubborn Elk and his wife were among those turned. He glared and she frowned at the dark spirit as he returned with a fishing party having brought back far too many fish than could possibly be good for the river or fish spirits. They watched the party hand out their bounty to people too desperate to care with uncertain glances at their benefactor. The spirit simply turned and walked away.
"Let's go home," his wife whispered.
He snorted. "Yes."
*******
"Guardian!?"
Tom closed his eyes. He'd been up since dawn tending to the village's ills and wished they could take care of themselves for awhile. He slowly turned at his appointed name. A young woman with long, dark hair stood ten feet away and beckoned. "Please come. My baby is very ill."
"Of course," Heyward sighed . With the unusual cold came illness made even worse by the threat of famine. The sickness went away for awhile, but now with each expedition bringing in less and less despite his best efforts... He rubbed his forehead and followed her into a small cabin about the size of a tent.
A little boy wheezed and writhed on his blanket as he fought to breathe. Heyward flinched, remembering his own bouts with asthma, but no. Blood stained the boy's lips and even as his cheeks tinged blue/grey, his sweaty forehead was dark with fever.
"Leave us!"
"But, Guardian, I..." Fear tinged the woman's voice and he turned.
"I can help him, but there is sickness here. I will tell you when you can come back." This was only viral pneumonia, but no sense taking chances. "I'll be gentle." In Tom's own time a regimen of antibiotics could at least give the boy - Datsidahee, that was his name - a fighting chance. Here...
Tom couldn't create antibiotics any more than he could create fish, but he could teach the boy's body how to fight this off and strengthen it. He closed his eyes, resting both hands lightly on the child's chest and sensed where his life energy guttered like a dying flame. Outside he heard angry voices - the mother and her husband no doubt. No time for them, the pneumonia was far more advanced than he thought. Heyward focused, trying to regenerate diseased tissue, stop the slow trickle of blood into his air sacs, gently nudge open a pathway here and...
Datsidahee spasmed and coughed a spray of blood. Instinctively Tom flinched and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. With his concentration broken the tide turned at once. The boy managed to roll on his side and retched another spray in an attempt to clear his lungs.
No time for being careful now. Heyward snarled, gripped the child's chest and forced his airway open. The boy gulped once and flailed in his grasp. Next Tom stopped the vein pumping into his lungs long enough to seal the opening into his lungs, then steadily drew his blood out of battered and diseased airways.
Here Heyward paused a moment to pant, exhausted. "It's all right, Datsidahee," he murmured in English. "We're almost done."
Except Datsidahee was already done. During Tom's last forceful attempts his heart, unable to handle the strain of low oxygen in the blood any longer, simply gave up.
*******
"I'm sorry."
The woman wailed and beat on her husband's chest as he held her and glared. "She said that you could help."
"I thought I could," Tom replied, shaking his head to clear the exhaustion. "It was too advanced. If your wife told me sooner, than maybe..."
"So this is her fault!?" he bellowed.
"I didn't say that." Heyward opened his mouth, closed it. Grief. Of course they were upset. "I'm sorry. Good night."
"Oyohusa adanedi!" the man screamed at his back.
Deathbringer, Tom thought as he walked through the now quiet dirt 'street' running through the middle of the city. No, sorry. I'm too busy saving you. They needed him as their 'guardian.' They certainly couldn't survive on their own, not without a chief and shaman at the very least and frankly no one here seemed all that qualified. Plus, with winter coming..
He looked at his rebuilt cabin and remembered some of Bast's last words before they fought. Aren't you forgetting something important?
"Probably," he admitted, stepping into his own cabin. "But not yet." His father told him about the influenza outbreak that ravaged Europe following World War I, and pneumonia could be caused by that. A flu epidemic could destroy them all.
"I won't let that happen," he vowed, clenching his fist. "I..."
Someone knocked. Tom sighed and hung his head. "Unless someone's dying, come back tomorrow!" The knocking ceased and he drew a shuddering breath. "God, I'm tired."
The door slammed open. He spun, saw a flash of metal and weaved to one side as a knife sailed past his head. The intruder roared, drew a second knife and bull rushed into him knocking the breath from his lungs. They fell into a heap, Tom far too busy forcing bruised lungs back into operation to worry about the maniac on top of him. The Indian thrust downward, cutting deep into Heyward's shoulder. ""Unega gogv!"
White Crow penetrated the searing pain. Heyward screamed, something exploded, then darkness.
*******
He woke with the lightly stinging pelts of cold rain on his first forehead. Pain and darkness, then slowly the sky lightened to grey, then a spot turned brighter. A torch.
Several men and women crowded around what was left of his cabin. A great jagged hole in the roof allowed rain to filter in and wood shards littered the ground where Tom lay. He groaned and sat up. One wall, its supports shorn away, shifted in the cold night wind. A woman sobbed in a corner over what looked like a large of hunk of roasted meat. Most of Tom's possessions were similarly charred and burned.
A woman with greying hair, perhaps all of thirty or thirty-five, pushed past the others and knelt beside him. "Be still, Guardian." She opened a pouch at her belt and pulled out various herbs.
"You know medicine?"
"Yes. I walked with Wasp Sting for a time as her apprentice."
"You did!?" Tom racked his memory. "How...?" His eyes widened slightly. "Moonwhisper?" She'd stopped training, choosing to marry and raise a family instead. Wasp didn't consider her a true shaman because of that.
She smiled briefly and wiped at his shoulder. "It's not deep. You are lucky, Guardian."
"It's already healing," Tom agreed. He nodded at the woman. "She lost her child earlier. What's she doing here?"
Moonwhisper lowered her eyes. "She mourns her husband."
"Why..." He stared at the meat. "Oh my God."
"He was the one who tried to kill you."
Later in her family's cabin, Tom sat by the fire sipping at something bitter and communing with the flames. Moonwhisper sat across from him, her husband to one side with folded arms.
"I don't remember what happened," he said.
"We saw a great shaft of light," she replied. "Linking your cabin to the heavens. When we came to investigate, we found it much as you did: Your attacker, dead, and you on your back. It is like a great fire tore through the place, and only you escaped its wrath."
"Before he...He said 'White Crow.'"
"That fits."
"Be at peace, husband," Moonwhisper replied quickly, looking at Tom.
"Running Elk." Tom turned to the man. "What does it mean?"
Elk returned Tom's gaze and sneered. "He does not know of the White Crow."
"Husband...Do not concern yourself, Guardian. It is only a tale."
He was too tired to try and search his Wasp Sting's memories. "Tell me."
Moonwhisper inhaled, lowered her eyes and nodded. "Briefly then, White Crow wanted to bring suffering to his people. Therefore whenever hunters would go out to find deer and other animals, he would fly ahead and warn them so they would leave. He did this many times and the people sickened. They tried to move, but he remained where he was and kept driving the animals away. Only Coyote's trickery and Spider's webs captured him and ended his antics."(1)
"That doesn't make any sense. If anything, I'm bringing the animals here. Not driving them away."
"To what end, Guardian?" Elk demanded. "If we kill them all now, there will be none for next season. We will have to leave."
"Would you rather starve this winter?"
"We would have done well enough, Guardian. This isn't the first bad season we've faced. Only now it's worse because the spring will be bad as well. Only when the animals give birth will there be a chance. Even then it will be slim."
Tom sighed and stood.
"Guardian?" Moonwhisper looked up. "Are you angry?"
She's afraid, he realized. Why!? "No. No, thank you for your... counsel. I simply need to think for awhile."
"But where will you go? Your cabin's...Guardian!"
"Let him go, wife. He can take care of himself."
*******
"I wish that were true," Tom muttered in English, folding his arms against the cold and staring at the night sky. Greyish black, at least the rain had stopped. First the child, then the husband. God help the now widowed mother. Deathbringer, he thought. Deathbringer.
He paused in the middle of the street and closed his eyes. "Am I hurting them instead of helping?" He snorted. "Maybe I'm not as wise as I thought. God, what do I do?"
Tom squinted as a bright light flared to life in the eastern sky.
Oh.
********
(1)The legend of the White Crow is actually Sioux in origin. I thought it too fitting to pass up. In the actual legend, Crow drives away/warns the buffalo, but as I don't know of any buffalo in the foothills of the Appalachians I substituted deer.
It's lonely at the top. Having such power only serves to emphasise what you can't do... let's see what he takes from the star. Judging by his recent actions, though, it probably won't be anything positive...
Must be somber, having power to help yet struggling to have the patience to teach and accept what others will not learn. A good melancholy update, though I think Tom should've seen that attack coming after that confrontation.
Power without understanding how to use it is a terrible burden. A neat metaphor for modern America as well as Tom's seemingly distracted nature. Light did seem to dawn with the last "Oh".
Of course, if any Empire had ever understood how to use power, it would still be around today - in that form.
Of course, if any Empire had ever understood how to use power, it would still be around today - in that form.
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CatKnight: ...Deathbringer,...
something that should sound a wakeup call to Tom ! !
CatKnight: ...He looked at his rebuilt cabin and remembered some of Bast's last words before they fought. Aren't you forgetting something important?
add to that this...
CatKnight: ...She's afraid, he realized.
and this...
CatKnight: ...Tom squinted as a bright light flared to life in the eastern sky. ..Oh.
and this ! !
and Tom begins to put some puzzle pieces together ! !
plus, for some reason i suspect that meeting with John and Cassie will give Tom more of the answers he needs...
and, the motivation to go after 'Black' ! !
after all, for all the problems that John and Tom have had, Tom still considers John 'family' ! !
words cannot describe how awesome and magnificent this update is ! !
something that should sound a wakeup call to Tom ! !
CatKnight: ...He looked at his rebuilt cabin and remembered some of Bast's last words before they fought. Aren't you forgetting something important?
add to that this...
CatKnight: ...She's afraid, he realized.
and this...
CatKnight: ...Tom squinted as a bright light flared to life in the eastern sky. ..Oh.
and this ! !
and Tom begins to put some puzzle pieces together ! !
plus, for some reason i suspect that meeting with John and Cassie will give Tom more of the answers he needs...
and, the motivation to go after 'Black' ! !
after all, for all the problems that John and Tom have had, Tom still considers John 'family' ! !
words cannot describe how awesome and magnificent this update is ! !
Tom's situation reminds me of an old sci-fi short. An all-powerful being is marooned on a planet, finds people who worship him for all he does for them, he thinks he's their god and only in the end realizes he's their devil. Seems Heyward is coming to the same realization.
I hope that the new, humbler, Heyward is finally ready to meet Preston again without trying to kill him. Together, with their combined experiences (and Bast lurking somewhere), they should be able to finally put a stop to Black.
I hope that the new, humbler, Heyward is finally ready to meet Preston again without trying to kill him. Together, with their combined experiences (and Bast lurking somewhere), they should be able to finally put a stop to Black.
Judas Maccabeus: As you say, Tom needed to learn that he can't do quite anything. If he (and Black) could...well, we wouldn't be approaching the climax any time soon.
Mettermrck: Normally I'd say Tom would have seen it coming, but he was exhausted and a little down after failing to save the child. I think he was just blindsided.
I do seem to have this thing for assailants charging through doors. Hm...
Chief Ragusa: Right.
GhostWriter: Yes, Tom's had his wakeup call. Let's hope it holds this time.
Fulcrumvale: :nods:
Stuyvesant: I never read that sci-fi short, but it's sort of what I was thinking. Power corrupts, even if you think you're trying to do good... if you aren't very careful (and humble) you can make things much worse.
Mettermrck: Normally I'd say Tom would have seen it coming, but he was exhausted and a little down after failing to save the child. I think he was just blindsided.
I do seem to have this thing for assailants charging through doors. Hm...
Chief Ragusa: Right.
GhostWriter: Yes, Tom's had his wakeup call. Let's hope it holds this time.
Fulcrumvale: :nods:
Stuyvesant: I never read that sci-fi short, but it's sort of what I was thinking. Power corrupts, even if you think you're trying to do good... if you aren't very careful (and humble) you can make things much worse.
-= 220 =-
South Carolina
November 1784
A thin glaze of frost covered pines and their forlorn, leafless neighbors as Thomas Heyward rode steadily through the forest. He continually looked left and right, taking in every detail from the faint cry of a migrating bird wondering why its winter home was almost as cold as its summer, to the tiny prints of a fox who fled upon his approach.
A Vermont general had once called Heyward's horse 'Death' and for good reason. 'Death' stood taller than most of his kind, a strong, fierce, angry animal that rightly belonged in a cavalry charge from six hundred years ago. He snorted, creating a cloud of steam almost as pale as his hair and pawed at the ground.
The flaming asteroid, the brilliant light that lit up the eastern sky for the past three nights, finally flickered and died a little before dawn, but it would have been strange if he couldn't follow its path now. He could feel something guiding him, pulling him towards...what?
*******
John Preston paused to adjust the wads of cloth bound to his palms offering minimal protection from the biting wind. He closed dry, red fingers around the handle of an ax he appropriated from a nearby farm and carried it to a nearby sycamore which he'd just volunteered to become tonight's firewood. He brushed his knuckles along the trunk, clearing the frost away, and went to work.
Cassie would be inside the barn with Christina and the cat, which if nothing else was good company. He'd sometimes come in to find Cass holding it in both arms, nose buried in its fur as if in silent communion. Then it would turn and give him an impudent look, as if he was intruding, before closing its eyes and going back to sleep.
He chopped slowly, but steadily as the sun rose and the wind died off. Soon John began to sweat and loosened his coat, though he didn't dare remove it entirely. He grinned as the axe finally broke through and gave the tree a triumphant shove. It groaned, snapped at the base, and landed with a solid thump.
"You killed a tree. Congratulations."
John spun. "Tom!" He dropped his axe and stared up. "I...I was looking for you!"
Tom looked remote and not entirely pleased. "I forgot my frankincense and myrrh. I hope that's alright."
"Eh?" Preston stepped forward. "Are you alright?"
He lifted his head and looked around. "Where's the cat?"
John looked at where they called home and back. "How did you know about the...?"
"Right." Heyward nudged his horse towards the barn.
"Hey!" John clenched his fists. "Get back here! You're not leaving this time!" He lowered his head and charged.
Tom flicked his hand like at a fly, and Preston felt something solid hit him and knock him to the ground.
"Insolence," Heyward growled.
"You owe me an explanation, and I mean to have it!" John sprang to his feet and clenched his fists.
"I owe you nothing." Then he seemed to change his mind: "It is too cold to argue. We can talk inside."
*******
Tom dismounted and opened the barn door. The first thing he saw was Cassie Preston. She narrowed her eyes, trying to make out his features, then her eyes widened. A child, their daughter no doubt, steadily crawled across the barn intent on seeing outside a crack in the wall.
"General?" Cassie began. "How come you here?"
He ignored her and instead addressed the orange lump by the fire. "Bast."
Sayonara! She lifted her head and closed her eyes in a smile.
"Why did you bring me here!?"
"I assure you General," Cass said. "We had no idea you were coming."
Now, now. Not in front of the children.
John closed the door after them and paused as Tom glared at the cat. "I'll take your horse." He reached for the reins.
Death bared his teeth and snapped.
"No," Tom said. "I'll do it."
"There's a ring in the wall over there." Preston wrapped his arm around his wife. "What are you doing here?"
Oh, I set a big ball of rock on fire. In space. Be sure to tell them that part. I was rather proud...
"I went for a walk," Tom said coldly.
"And you just happened upon a destroyed village?" Preston shook his head. "That's hard to believe."
"What happened here?"
"Indians. We were tracking them right before we met last time. There was one who looked more wolf than human, and..."
"He won't be bothering you anymore." Tom sat by the fire and communed with the flames.
"How do you ... Oh, I see." He released his wife. "Cass, will you get the general something to eat? We can spare a little."
"John?" She looked up into his eyes. "We...," she leaned close and whispered. "You haven't found anything else to hunt, have you?"
"It is alright, Colonel. I'm not hungry."
"Ga?" Christina heard a stranger's voice, lowered her head and crawled quickly towards them. "Ga ga ga ga ..."
"Chris!" Cassie rushed forward and grabbed her.
Heyward didn't look up. "And why are you here? Looking for me, you said. We did not part on good terms." He looked up. "We are not on good terms."
Oh, stop being a baby.
"What a nice cat," Heyward added after a pause. "Can I hold it?" He flexed his hands like claws.
Bast hissed.
Preston folded his arms. "Tom, I've seen..." He shook his head and stared around. "I've seen impossible things. The Indian with the wolf face, you, Exeter..."
Now Tom perked up. "Jasen Exeter?"
"Yes, but he's changed. He's...huge. I don't even know how to describe him. Almost like a bear - he must be seven feet now? He's working with Governor Moultrie. I don't know what they're up to, but he..." John glanced at Cassie. "...they must be stopped. I think...I think you know what's going on."
Heyward nodded slightly. "Yes."
"Then I need to know!"
"All you need to know is they're more than you can handle. I gave you your life once. Now take it and go far away."
"That's not good enough! This is my state! Our state. We need to deal with the governor!"
"South Carolina is not my concern." Tom glared at Bast. "Not one word."
John looked back and forth between the pair. "I don't believe that, Tom! I think you..." He stared at Cassie. He couldn't very well order her out of the room. "I think you...can do things."
Bast perked up and watched him closely.
"When we fought, you... Look! I want to know who or what you are, what Exeter is, and how to deal with them!"
"Exeter is the governor's puppet...as you were before him," Tom glared. "Why would I want to help you? You've spent your entire adult life fighting me. You asked to go to war? I sent you and you complained. I pulled you out of the war? You complained. I made sure you made it home to see her," he pointed at Cassie, "and you didn't care for how I did it."
Heyward stood. "I warned you, Colonel. I told you in no uncertain terms that Rutledge was up to no good, and you argued with me, then tried to run me down afterwards! Is that why you killed Anne? You couldn't get to me, so you killed h..."
"For the last time, I didn't kill her!"
"All your life you've either created the problem or found a way to make it worse. Why the devil would I want to help you?" He spun away.
"He...he didn't kill her," Cassie said softly.
"I would expect you to take his side, Mrs. Preston," Tom said. "However,"
"General Exeter did."
All eyes turned to her. She lowered her gaze and cuddled Christina.
"How do you know that?" John asked quietly.
"I...before my..." Cassie looked up at Tom, then away. "Johnny, before you ... came home, I was trying to help."
"Go on.."
"I'm sorry! I only made things worse. We wouldn't be here if I hadn't gone snooping."
"Snooping!?"
"Spying, Colonel," Tom said, staring at her.
"Spying?!?"
"What did you find out?"
"I found papers. He sent...Exeter...to follow John. In case John refused to arrest you, he was to kill you."
She's telling the truth.
Heyward glared at Bast and nodded to the far side of the barn. They walked away.
"Spying?" John repeated. "Is that why....Why?"
Tears rolled down her cheeks and he pulled her close. "I'm sorry, Johnny. I thought....I thought if I could find out what the governor was at, I could help you."
"Help me what? Cassie!" He lifted her chin. "What then, you went through his papers?"
She nodded. "There's more. He hired someone to kill Congress. I think he plans to take over while everyone's confused."
"There isn't much we can do about that from here." John stroked her face. "That was dangerous! What were you thinking?"
"I knew the governor troubled you, the Patriots League, all of it. I don't know how Carolina was years ago, but it's different now. I can...could see it on their faces. Something was wrong, and if I could find out what..."
"Cassie..." He sighed and hugged her again.
*******
"You knew?" Tom asked softly, turning to face the orange tabby.
I'm a cat, she slurped her forearm lazily.
"You could have said something."
I didn't know until I came here, and you didn't seem up to talking.
Tom shook his head. "I hate this place."
She smiled again, eyes closed. You know how to go home. You know how to return to... what's her name: Jess?
"Jess?" He convulsed, somewhere between a snort and a snob. "My home's gone, remember? Our 'brother' killed it."
Not yet, he hasn't. Bast flicked her gaze at the Prestons. You can save your world. And their's for that matter.
He turned his back. "I feel like I'm being manipulated..."
Guided.
"Manipulated. Used. Why me? Why should I be the one to deal with him?"
How many girlfriends do you have to let die before you accept your destiny!?
He snarled and spun, but she was gone.
"Tom?" John beckoned from the fire. He walked over. "Now do you believe me?"
"Yes."
"Then it's my turn." He sat down. "I want that explanation."
"What explanation?"
"Let's start with what are you?"
"What am I?" He sat down, hard. "I wish I knew. I..." He closed his eyes. "I wish Jess was here."
They exchanged looks. "Who?"
"Jessie. Jessica. If I don't kill Black, then she'll die. They'll all die. And for some reason it'll be my fault."
Cassie nodded. "There was always a rumor that you had a girlfriend before..."
John interrupted her. "Tom, slow down! Who's Black?"
Heyward shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"After the past month or so I'm likely to believe about anything."
Tom opened his eyes. "I've lived with this for twelve years. It wasn't so bad at first, but as time passed, and things grew worse. Some days I thought I'd explode."
They waited patiently. Finally he looked up from the fire.
"My name is Thomas Heyward....and I was born on the 5th day of April, in the year one thousand, nine hundred twenty one..."
And it all comes out. The moment of truth has arrived for John Preston. Awesome. Utterly awesome.
Now the great divulgment. Good confrontations there, a nice mix of coldness and somber emotion.
Good confrontations there, a nice mix of coldness and somber emotion.
I've caught up and am pleased to see we have reached the point where Heyward reveals his origins.
Well, I think that last bit about telling the truth is the first correct thing Heyward has done in quite a while. And I suppose after all the odd things that have happened, they would be a bit more likely to believe him...
And I suppose after all the odd things that have happened, they would be a bit more likely to believe him...