The wind howls in his ears and pierces his clothes, passing through the seams of his long cloak, but this is just a small annoyance compared to what is lurking in his mind. The road in front of him is illuminated by the moon. Everything is crystal clear in sharp contrast to the darkness that you would expect from the night. One walking behind him would see a slow, confident, yet also fast stride. The kind where somebody has one purpose and is inexorably walking closer to that singular goal.
He continues down the hill leading towards the small village. He passes by houses illuminated in the night. People walk towards the town square in couples and merry laughter, passing shops and inns, light leaking from the doors and windows. Most take no notice of the man in their presence and continue with the festivities of the night as they see fit.
He takes a turn down a dark side alleyway. As he gets behind most of the buildings in the town square, he slowly turns his head and recognizes all the different ledges, footholds, and handholds of the climb.
Identifying the correct section, he takes a light jump off a barrel and ascends into a window sill, then quickly side jumps to a ledge. Rotating the singular heel he is on he then walks along the side of the building. Lastly he pulls himself up a regularly used handhold. Worn and comfortable in his hand, he reaches the top.
He walks along the roof, not hiding his presence above as nobody noticed him before, so nobody would now either. He reaches the peak of the roof triangle and removes his hood and pack as he sits. The overview of the merry town in the night gives him no joy, no memories, and no emotion at all, even when he knew what was about to happen.
He simply watches from the peak of one of the rooftops. He places his elbows on his knees and hands interlaced together in front of his face. One couple walks by below, a girl with done up hair and a cute dress to match. With green eyes that he knew well. The kind of girl that has no problem weaving her way into almost any man's heart. Weaving her arm through the man's next to her -- her boyfriend's, Magnus summarizes, clearly creates the scene of a happy couple. They walk into the square where they laugh and meet with others waiting for them.
His gaze indifferently shifts to another group. A family eating happily at a restaurant, with the scent of bread and honey wafting his direction. The grandfather is telling a story to all three grandchildren and their parents. Wide eyed the children listen on, their food staying still on their plates even though they were hungry.
He had witnessed this scene before, many times even. The shops lining the square were bustling and the center fountain flowed. The perfect town for reasons more than one. He recognizes a woman that walks into his vision, dragging along her husband who seems to not care where they were going. He did not care that his mother and father were in the square. He had not seen them in some time anyway. He did not care that the one he wanted most was in the square either, still talking to her friends, laughing frequently, and with her arm still intertwined with her boyfriends.
He takes the next fifteen minutes and continues to observe the activities of the yearly festival. Memories begin to play in front of his mind from long ago, and once again he shoves them back down, grappling with his mind about how nothing can be done about the past.
"What will you do?" a voice sounds from behind him.
"Blair." he says without even looking behind, "You always know where to find me."
"Of course," her lips smile slightly, "Since this is my spot now." She says as she slowly walks in his direction, "When are you coming back? You know everyone is wondering where you are. Your friends always ask too." She questions him.
He pulls his hood back up covering his face. Picks up his bag as well, knowing he has already stayed too long. Slowly he turns around and once again begins walking across the roof away from the square.
He walks past and can tell that Blair has already begun crying after seeing him. Likely wondering what has gone wrong, with either him or his life she did not know. She tries to reach out and grab his shoulder, as it lands, her body is quickly jerked forward and doesn't slow him in the slightest. She loses her grip on him. Looking down at her hand again she then questions where he had gained such strength. She could feel it under his obscuring cloak. Strength that would break anyone in the town with ease.
Magnus then walks off the edge of the roof. Forgetting about playing the part of climbing this time around as he has already overstayed his welcome. He lands the two story drop easily and instead of walking back the way he came, continues out the alleyway into the residential areas. Every house seemed to have its windows lit, and the smell of bread and the sound of cheerful gatherings made him almost cry. At least that is what he would tell himself after many years of missing this event. His hand quickly wiped a tear away and he continued walking for a few minutes through the fields on the edge of the town, giving a wide berth from the road he came in on. He knew what was coming down it. His head turns up and takes a look at the moon turned blue. After a mile he steps back onto the road, the same he entered on, he kneels down. Setting his hand to the dirt he feels what he knew was to come. Ragged lines and deep gouges now line it, zigzagging in no particular pattern. Mixing with the other regular users of the road, tough to spot for anyone not looking. He looks at the town and everything seems peaceful and happy.
A shrill scream pierces the air. His queue to keep moving away. The light of the town quickly extinguishes behind him, not because of how far he has gotten away from it, but rather what has gotten inside of it. Another scream rings out through the night, then more, and more, until that was all he heard as he slowly and inexorably continued his walk away from the town. The bell in the town center began ringing as quickly and loudly as possible mixing with the wailing of the night. Crunching and cracking sounds began mixing with the clamor. He continues his walk away head low, yet with such a stride that was filled with the worst kind of emotion at this moment -- nothing. Images of what was happening to the town and its residents try to surface in his mind. He quickly to shove them back before they take hold. The wind continues to claw at him, once again, in second place compared to his thoughts.