Reuniting with Hacombe, Leonard set out to find work. He saw Thomas in town briefly, a man he remembered as questioning his own place in life, and Thomas gave him a few small silver coins which would tide him over for a few days.
Eventually he considered asking the rich people for a job again. He was outside the gates of an estate, sitting in the grass looking in and pondering if he should go in or not. They were outside their big whitewashed house, sitting in designed chairs and drinking tea from delicate, colourful china cups on glass tables.
Leo was thinking on how the dark rider was, or called himself, the God of Lines. How did that relate to the power or meaning of lines that was working inside of himself? And why was this being so angry at him? And why was his line affinity so oppressive while Leonard's line affinity was so freeing/kind/warm? Leonard realized that the dark rider was the God of Not Crossing Lines, of seeing what the status quo was and keeping it there, while Leonard's power was crossing lines, of triumphing over status quo. He realized more than ever that he'd have to help as many slaves as he could get to freedom.
He, on an unrelated thought, resolved to go into the estate and ask about employment. What he didn't know was that becasue of the Roaring King's influence the slaveowning families knew that he was an escaped slave and would jus enslave him again if they found him. Before he stood up he felt a finger over his lips.
He looked over and saw a girl, fifteen or sixteen, lying on the grass crouching like an antelope. She had dared hair darker than the night and pale skin paler than snow. And she had one hell of a gaze. He was lost in it, it seemed to hold him, and he could see her looking into his soul, connecting with him, trying to understand him, trying to protect him. It was so powerful, and so friendly, and so kind.
Leonard had no idea who this girl was he didn't know who she was or what she wanted. Some strange part of him trusted her though, and another part of him was questioning, and another part of him was rebelling against the sheer strangeness of it all. She was motioning to her helmet, which was similar to the helmet he saw the dark rider wearing. How would she get that helmet? It it even the same helmet? These thoughts were rushing around Leonard's brain. It couldn't be a different helmet because literally the only other time he saw a helmet even similar - black with a white, thin animal skull, weirdly shiney, made of strange material - was on the dreadful rider. Why did she have it? Was she some kind of helper for that being? No, she seemed too protective/nice and too ... rebellious for that. Was she this daughter he'd heard about? Maybe.
She put his hand on her heart and then started beckoning him towards the river. He followed, unsure, but trusting her. 369Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3p1mKpyUfQ
369Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr5v5pFXPjw
———
If you like this story check out my Twitter my handle is @FSairuv and I post about human rights, social justice, and the environment.
ns 15.158.61.23da2
