Diadem's Library

"Thanks for that information. Turn around."

Feeling the knife leave his back, his head turns a little, and after a heartbeat or two he turns around, gloved hands still held up. His sleeves slips down at the movement, reveal a small tendril peaking out on both of his wrists from under the gloves. And he was fighting the urge to scratch them.

"You can have the knife. But lie to me again, and I will shoot you."

Zale stands still a moment, looking at the knife that had been pressed into his hand. For a moment he remains a statue, though as she passes a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. "Again, I'm a habitual liar," he mummurs, twisting the knife around his hand before sliding it into his boot, then he follows after her. "If you know I'm lying, just give me time and I'll eventually tell you the truth."

He catches up to her, though he still retains some of his distance. "Even with a gun threat, I can't guarantee my tongue will obey." He pauses a moment. "However, I didn't completely lie to you. I do have a brother, and I did have a severe case of pneumonia that nearly took my life. On the other hand, my brother is an herbalist, and it was a different doctor that helped with the treatment.

"You'll have a day to tell me the truth each time you lie."

Zale chuckles inwardly. She was actually going to stick around for a while? "That is an arrangement I can live with."

"And you have yet to tell me what is happening to me, and why you came to find Gerome."

His playful demeanor vanishes immediately. "That depends on how readily you are to accept the truth. Because what I'm about to tell you is something most people will call bullshit on, but I assure you, it's real, whether you or I like it or not." He looks forward. "And if I had a choice, I would've chose to stay out of it."

"I just found one of my friends dead. Bandits are after his things, ransacking his place. I'm running with a stranger whose name I do not know, who seems to know what this mark is. At this point, I couldn't care less if I lived or died. So I doubt anything could bother me now."

"First, they weren't after his things. They were coming for you," Zale tosses out. "And apologies for not introducing myself sooner-- I didn't quite have the chance to. But that--" he points to the mark that peeks from her shirt, "--is the other part of this." He jerks off his gloves and pulls up his sleeves, turning his wrists up to show her the tendrils crossing them. "Now, as for what it means, I only know as much as Nan knew."

"Why... Why did I get the mark?... What is it.."

"Here's what I know. You, aren't entirely human. Then again, nor am I. You're a host for a Horseman of the apocalypse, a prophet if you will. The way nan spoke, there's a prophet, a guide, and a counterpart. I'm the guide, and the man you knew as Gerome was really a counter part." He pauses. "He's bad news. He's meant to pull you to chaos, to destroy the world with the other horseman, but you, you can choose your path. Now, whether you choose helping humanity over causing chaos is up to you. I can't really stop you. But as much as I don't want involved, I am. And it's my job to try to help humanity."

Zale starts pulling his gloves back on. "Grant it, humans suck. We all do. We've lived in fear of famine, plague, war, death, demons and hellians alike, fought each other, even destroyed each other, but something has to change. The mark appeared because your horseman has left his mark. Taking your friend's life through pestilence. And the others are sure to follow-- famine stealing away something dear to someone, war swallowing peace up and wreaking havoc on his host's life, death consuming all their host knows."

"That means... Gerome is alive?... Does that mean he's alive!"

"No," he replies immediately, looking down at her. "He's not."