Untitled

Prologue

The room span, as they pressed their hands then foreheads together. In the gloom, you could just about make out their hands, two different tones and sizes together. Linking them made the connection stronger, and they fell, seemingly towards an abyss of nothingness. Spiralling down further and further, one constant motion, before landing with a bone wrenching thud in what looked like a courtyard. Untangling themselves, they turned around, trying to take in as much as possible. This, however, was difficult, seeing as their whole field of vision was restricted, as though they looked out in the night, but there was visible light, and no sign of fog.

Pinby, the larger and lighter of the two looked towards a black shadow-like shape, that was only just visible, and even then by squinting. “This is bizarre…” was his only reaction. He looked down at the girl still sitting on the cobblestone floor. Her leg was twisted oddly, though she showed no sign of pain in any way. “Phoebe? It’s not broken is it?” She attempted to stand, and even then had to accept Pinby’s help in the form of an outstretched hand. Pinby tucked his shoulder under her arm, almost lifting her from the floor just by straightening up again. She tested her leg, standing gingerly on it. Once confident that it was ok, she let go of him, and straightened her summer dress... how she hated that thing! It was so thin, any slight breeze could freeze her, even back home the cool breezes were freezing to her. Pinby gave her a sideways glance, checking that she was actually ok, and that she wasn’t just acting as though she was. “Where are we?” She asked,

“I have no idea…is this place enclosed, or is it just me?” came the reply. She shrugged slightly, and Pinby froze. She looked up at him, his eyes were narrowed, and his body completely ridged. “Wha…?” He waved her words away, and held up his hand in silence. After what seemed like and eternity, Pinby finally said “Sorry…I thought I heard something.” Phoebe turned around taking in her surroundings, when suddenly, she heard a gasp. Whirling around, Pinby stood, transfixed to the spot, unable to move, the black, shadow-like thing seemed to swell, and grow at the same time, and something beginning to protrude out of what could’ve been the base of it. Before either of them could react, the thing grabbed Pinby, and attempted to crush him, dragging him back into the mists.

“PIN!!!” Phoebe screamed grabbing his only free hand. She tried to sink her feet into the cobbles, skipping stones every time she nearly had a grip. Losing touch with all rationality, and adrenaline rushing through her system, Phoebe planted her feet in the tendrils of the Thing, and pulled, unaware the jagged bits of cobbles that poked out of her worn shoes. The Thing seemed to howl in pain; a low a guttural tone, that resounded through this unknown space.

They tumbled, and landed on top of each other.

“Gerrrof me!!” Phoebe squeaked, totally flattened underneath Pin’s bulk.

“Sorry…” He muttered, hoisting her back to her feet for the second time in the space of a few minutes. Not a lot of time had actually passed, though neither Pinby nor Phoebe had any sense of time whatsoever.

The Thing seemed to growl once more, and in a rush of panic, Phoebe ran for what was perhaps, the nearest exit. It could’ve been, until SMACK. Phoebe hit a stone wall, and landed flat on her back.

Pin stood over her, eyebrows raised in both amusement and concern. Phoebe groaned, and placed both hands on her head.

“I was about to say, before you sprinted the length of a football pitch, that we should check for any exits. Not run headlong into a wall.”

She glared at him, and pulled herself up. Ignoring Pin’s comment, she asked “Can you see where we were when we landed? And how did we get here anyways?”

“First thing, I think you should sit down. I think you concussed yourself. Secondly, we should walk along the length of these walls, maybe there’s a corner, because I think I see another wall over there.” He gestured towards the solid looking space to Phoebe’s right. She groaned again. “It could go for MILES!”

“Got a better idea?” He raised his eyebrow, in a look that said I’m-waiting, and in the end, Phoebe gave in, placing both hands on the dented wall, and began to walk along. She may have given in on this, but there was no way she was going to show Pin that she needed help. HE was the one to need to be rescued, and that was how she liked it.

It could’ve been hours, or minutes that passed, no one could be sure, but they still hadn’t found a corner, and Phoebe was fit to explode. The mist seemed to grow thicker with every step they took, with no sign of relenting at all.

“Pin…where’s this corner?” Phoebe asked, agitated and tired.

He didn’t’ answer. Instead he stepped past her, and pushed his hand out in front, with an unreadable look upon his face; A possible mix between smugness and seriousness.

Phoebe tilted her had to the side in question, and then put her hands out, to touch where Pin was. A corner.

“Yeah…but where’s the ex…” was all she could say before she felt the wall melt away as if it were made of ice under heat. She snatched her hand away, thinking of the Thing. Pin chuckled lightly, and smiled at her in a brotherly fashion.

“Don’t worry it’s ok.” He said. The mist type thing began to melt away with the wall, revealing an unseen land before them. A valley almost, with green hills rolling up towards mountains, that were so high you couldn’t see the top. A river wound its way down towards what looked almost like a village. Seldom few buildings could be seen though, and what they could see was falling into disrepair, and it looked deserted. The sun was setting behind the lowest mountain. The sky, however, was patterned with snow clouds, in a way the dictated a harsh winter.

“At least we have a sense of season.” Pin murmured.

Amazed by its sheer beautiful, desolateness, if that made any sense at all, Phoebe was left speechless. The lack of human habitation, or any habitation at all, seemed to spark some kind of love with her. She thought that the crumbling buildings in the distance were stunning, and made the rest of the landscape look fantastic.

Almost as if reading her mind, Pin turned to face her square on; as square as he could get being a foot taller than her. “Phoebe, this isn’t a pretty sight, I don’t care how your twisted, sardonic mind works. There were obviously people here, and they seem to be going through hard times. They might need help.” He raised an eyebrow as she opened her mind to object at being called sardonic, and she fell silent. For that moment at least. She turned to face the setting sun, and almost fell over herself as she realised there was another one about to rise. It began to show a blue face just behind them, over the mist that had cleared to the point where they could see the stretch of endless wall, and where it disappeared into the distance. Gasping in awe, she turned to face where they had come from. “Pin…”she murmured “You’ll never guess what…” He turned his head to face her, his jaw dropping at the sight of this blue sun. “No…way…!” was his only reaction before groaning loudly. “This is stupid, tell me it’s not true…does this mean there’s no night?!?” Growing increasingly annoyed with the prospect of constant light he turned away in frustration, massaging his temples, face screwed up in concentration.

Here was the difference between them both. Pin was logical and straight forward, with open mind and heart. Whereas Phoebe sometimes couldn’t care less about other people, with she had a dark and evil way of thinking.

She turned again, and watched Pin. He was hunched over slightly, with a tear in his shirt from the thing. There was a slight rip down his back where he must have torn it, letting his pale skin shine through in the light of the blue sun. Stepping forward, she placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling some kind of responsibility for his sadness. It was her idea to do this. To see what would happen. It was just a game to begin with. A game that friends played to see how “psychic” they were. You had to press foreheads with someone close, and concentrate. That was all; no one had ever dreamt that they would end up in some foreign land with no clue as to how to get back. “Come on Pin…” she said, putting on a brave face, when she really wanted to cry for him. “We should try and find someone. You know; someone to help.”

It was possible that Pin was the only person she cared about more then herself. He had always been there for her. Though not related, he had always been like a brother she never had.

Pin noticed the almost strangled tone on her voice, he said “Don’t cry, there’s not need.” He smiled slightly, and straightened up, “Besides,” he added “You look funny when you get sentimental.” Phoebe looked away, almost embarrassed. To break the awkward silence that had suddenly sprouted between them, she asked that all important and annoying question: “What now?”

Pin rubbed his dirty blonde hair, making it stand up in spikes. “We could… argh…” He frowned deeply, trying to think everything through but finding it increasingly difficult. If this had been back home, then he wouldn’t have a problem; he knew all the different types of land, what berries and stuff you could eat, but this, this place was different…in a frightening and daunting sense. Phoebe watched intently, almost seeing the wheels turn in overdrive around Pinby’s head. He closed his eyes tightly and clenched his teeth, his whole body going rigid, until “YES!” He exclaimed, “An idea!” He smiled brightly for the first time since they landed. Phoebe held her chin, and cupped her elbow with her other hand, “Go on…”She said.

“Right,” Pin was in his element now, but funnily enough managed to contain his sudden excitement and speak at a comprehendible rate. “There are two suns, so there’s no chance of nightfall, I think, well, in theory at least. It really depends on how they set. But that’s not the point. We can make our way towards that…village…type…thing, and see where we go from there.” He gestured madly throughout all of his little explanation, and stood in a “Taa-Daa” pose at the end. Phoebe smiled, and said “Fine.”

Slightly confused and thrown off for a moment, Pin starred at her. Phoebe never, EVER just agreed to something instantly. She had to pick it all apart, and ask a whole load of morbid questions which made you think better of the idea to begin with. This had been the case several times… She laughed quietly, and smiled up at him. “I said OK, it’s fine lets go. I don’t really wanna stay here anyways.” She made a start for the slow declining hill before them, plotting a course to the “village” in her mind as she went. Pin still stood, confused as ever, but then snapped out of it, and ran after her. Phoebe smiled ruefully to herself. She wasn’t happy about just doing one of Pins ideas without thinking about it thoroughly, but what choice did she have? It was either do this, or stay there for something bad to happen…and that Thing was big, black, and shadow-like…

Captured Shadow

Shaden flattened himself against a wall, watching out for anything or anyone that might be lurking around. Clear…he crept out and kept checking behind him. He was pleased for the sunshine; it made getting from A to B really easy; nothing to get out and grab you unrepentantly.

Still rigid and tense, Shaden broke out into a sprint. There was a nasty downfall of the light: it burned very quickly; not just any burn, a deep searing 3rd degree type burn that you died of, and that was only the blue sun. Reaching the trees, Shaden slowed to a slight jog. He was expected back home in a little while, and he was supposed to go see some head honcho about some matter concerning him. The thought of this annoyed him. He had to leave his mother and his twin sisters alone…but that was only if he had to go away.

A slight rustle in the trees made Shaden spin around. He narrowed his amber eyes, and melted into the shadows; the wonderful advantages of being dark skinned. Amorina…

That stupid little…! Thought Shaden; she was always getting into trouble, and the last thing he needed was to find her dead in a ditch somewhere. Reapers forest, as it was named, was not somewhere anyone who didn’t know the place should be, and Amorina was definitely one of those people.

Almost as if in slow motion, Shaden watched a wolf hound come out of the bushes in front of her. His breath slowed and he reached into the bag he had tied around his waist and pulled out a piece of parchment with little symbols written on in black ink. Concentrating, and focusing himself he leapt out of the bushes in one long arc, and planted this paper in the animal’s forehead. In his own mind, Shaden screamed out the unlocking symbol and grabbed Amorina by the arm, landing a few feet away, Amorina in tow, and very shaken. The animal seemed to die instantly in front of him. His arm was around Amorina, and she buried her head in his chest. Watching a creature, no matter how deadly was heart-rending because you know that it’s something that may have a family itself. Shaden put these thoughts out of his mind as he watched it keel over and breathe its last. A simple death incantation…the one he knew the best and feared the worst.

“Shaden…” came the choked voice just below his chin. “I’m sorry…I know I shouldn’t have left the village, but I needed to think and there was so much noise around me.”

At this little confession, Shaden raised and eyebrow. Amorina wasn’t the kind of girl to lie, but she was a little too sensitive. He stroked her jet black hair to comfort her, trying to think of the safest route to get back without running into anything else. His heart was slow but his senses more alert and it unsettled him. Also, Amorina couldn’t run as fast as he could and she tired easily; that would be a burden…Only a month younger than him, he could understand why she was so edgy and more sensitive. All the Guardians were, and it couldn’t be helped; there was a feeling; a bad feeling.

After a long and labourous treck back to the village, both weary and strained, Shaden and Amorina collapsed beside the great fire that burned in the center of a dozen tents. Each tent was made of some kind of lizard skin, stitched together by some tread made by the dried muscle strings of some animal. It was a secret that only the builders have.

The trees created a shelter over most of the tents with a gap in the middle so smoke could filter out. Shaden gazed up through the gap at what he wished could be night…a pointless and wasted wish. A slight kick in the side jumped Shaden out of his daydream, and he sat up looking straight into the face of Imogen, the leader of their group. Imogen was a strongly built man with broad shoulders like an ox; his silver eyes bore into Shaden like nails.

“Where’ve you been?” Was the only thing he said calmly before the volcano errupted, and Shaden got showered with the full force of his temper. “You were sent on a simple scouting mission. Not to go gallivanting with a girl.”

Shaden stood up, and tried to protest and tell Imogen that he wasn’t with Amorina the whole time, and that he had done as he was told, but Imogen, being as hard headded as he was, didn’t hear him at all.

Imogen with his back turned, didn’t see the red tipped arrow with the black and silver feathers dart after him, or the archer curse a miss, and disappear in the shadows.

Shaden starred, jaw agape, and disbelieving at what had just happened. He shut his mouth, and turned to look at everyone else around him, trying to see if they had noticed the attempted assassination. Nothing; he couldn’t believe it, everyone just carried on as if nothing had happened, as if their beloved Headman hadn’t nearly been murdered. Imogen turned to Shaden, and touched the scratch on his shoulder that had started to bleed. Looking at his blood red fingers as if he’d never seen blood before, he frowned, and gave his little cousin a look of disgust and outrage.

“You tried to kill me.” was all he said. All the people stopped dead in their tracks and watched, some of them looking almost as shocked as Shaden.

“No, I didn’t, it was…” was all he could say before Imogen pointed at him accusingly and began a sermon that could only lead to one thing.

“You are the only man in this village that can cast a poison tip spell and you know it. There are no archers, and there are no weapons save the Da Jagnas the soldiers carry.”

“No, Imogen I would never…”

“No, you wouldn’t would you.” Imogen glared at Shaden, and signalled the 3 soldiers that lingered behind him as soon as Shaden was accused.

Imogen turned, and with one smooth movement of his hand, gave the soldiers the order to take Shaden away. Before he could protest, Shaden was gagged, and dragged off the farthest corner of the village and into a cave.

The last he saw of his condemning cousin, was him standing, illuminated by the great fire, hands raised in a triumphant gesture, the growing crowd of people cheering him for a perfect decision of ignorance and relentless mercilessness.

Shaden was hit around the back of his head with a Da Jagna, he had never touched one before, but now he knew just how much they actually hurt.

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

Kidima leant back in his seat and sighed. He had been here for about seven hours, and he knew he wasn’t going to get paid overtime. He glanced over to the prisoner shackled to the wall in the far cell.

Of all the people to end up here…he thought. He knew Shaden, had done since he was small, but then, he knew how much Shaden hated Imogen as well, though, not enough to actually try and kill him. The thought of Imogen sickened him. Kidima remembered why he was a soldier in the first place. It was one of Imogen’s first acts as Headman: separate Kidima and Shaden. They were best friends once upon a time, and they were always getting into trouble together. Now look, he was guarding the one person he loved like a brother.

A memory suddenly came to him. Imogen telling him and Shaden that s soon as he became Headman, he’d stop their “terrorist” acts, and they would both obey him. Kidima and Shaden dismissed this, because they believed that Imogen would never be allowed to be Headman…oh, how very wrong they were.

“Kidima.” came a voice from behind him, snapping him out of his little bubble of memories.

“Sir.” Kidima rose to his feet, stretching the knots from his back, he had been sitting hunched over for so long.

The man that stood before him had a sorrowful look in his eyes.

“Kidima, I’m sorry I have to ask this of you.” he said. The man’s steel grey hair was pulled back with rope into a ponytail, and his equally steely eyes showed mercy, respect, and above all pity for the prisoner in the cell.

Kidima, being a lot smaller than this man, bowed his head slightly, his curtain-cut auburn hair flopping over his eyes.

“What is it you have to ask of me sir?” he murmured, daring a glance into those intense blue eyes.

“Imogen said the soldier guarding the prisoner has to escort him to the…execution sector.”

The last two words echoed though Kidima as if they were shouted through and empty room.

“Execution…”He whispered. Nearly fainting, he groped the space around him until he found the chair he was originally sitting in. Collapsing into it, he put his head in his hands, and had to fight back the tears that had sprung into his eyes. The man came forward, and placed his spade of a hand onto Kidima’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I know Shaden as well.” he murmured, soothingly.

Suddenly Kidima looked up, unable to stop the now pouring tears any longer. In a frightening rage, he looked at the man, and almost growling he said:

“How could you possibly know him? He is never here, he’s barely here long enough to see his own mother, let alone look after his twin sisters. Imogen made him an outcaste. No one knows him!!!”

The man stood in front of Kidima, who only just realised that he had stood up. Towering over him, the man said: “I am Shaden the II. That boy in there is my grandson.” Then, without another word, he left, leaving a claustrophobic sense of quiet in the lonely prison.

Minutes that felt stretched to hours passed, and a cold sweat trickled down Kidimas shirt and soaked into the waistband of his trousers. He didn’t know Shaden even had a grandfather, let alone that he was a high ranking soldier, but one thing he did know, was that Shaden didn’t stand a chance once he was in that sector… A thought occurred to him: Set him free? He suddenly had a plan begin to map itself out in his head, and he glanced over to Shaden who was still unconscious, black, and now matted hair flopped forward, hiding his pointed features.

No…he couldn’t. He had a family of his own to look after, and he would be the only person to see Shaden before the…condemning. He knew, as well as any soldier, that freeing a prisoner was punishable by death, and death was not an option for him; nor was losing a friend.

Kidima shook his head, and strode to Shadens cell, scooping up a cup of water on his way. He had to take him…he had no choice.

He opened the door, hearing the familiar squeak of the never oiled hinges, and in one smooth motion lifted Shaden’s head and slapped him; hard. Shaden looked up at Kidima in surprise, and dangled there, still shackled to the wall.

“Drink this.” Kidima said, supporting his head while he clumsily slurped the water Kidima offered him. After Shaden had finished, Kidima rose, and unlocked the iron shackles on Shaden’s wrists and ankles, and he flopped to the floor.

Throat and chest burning, Shaden croaked “You’re letting me go?”

Kidima leant against the wall for a moment, and turned to look back and Shaden.

“Sorry…I can’t. I’ve thought about it, and believe me, I can’t.”

Shaden starred at him in disbelief.

“We’ve been close since forever and you can’t…”

“Break a law?” Kidima faced Shaden, and grabbed him by the shoulders. The training soldiers had to partake in was vigorous, and it made Kidima almost twice Shaden’s size.

“why couldn’t you just do as you were told, and stay out of trouble?!? Why? If you had then you wouldn’t be in this mess, and I wouldn’t have to take you to the execution sector!”

Tears began to pour again, and Kidima didn’t want to wipe them away; he wanted Shaden to see how much doing this pained him.

“Kidima…”Shaden said hoarsely “It wasn’t me, I didn’t do it, the arrow was man-made… it wasn’t one of mine.”

Kidima leant back a little to look at Shaden properly,

“Where did the arrow land?”

Shaden had begun to lose consciousness again, and his head fell forward.

“Shaden. Don’t you dare do this to me. Where did the arrow land?!?” Shaden blinked a couple times, and looked up, distressed and now frantic. “In the Great Fire…Kidima, it landed in the damn fire!!” He pushed Kidima off of his shoulders, and knelt with his head in his hands sobbing quietly; realisation that he was definitely going to die finally hitting him.

Kidima rose slowly, and another soldier came into the room.

“Sir,” he said, “The Prisoner has to be taken to the execution sector now; order of Headman Imogen.” Kidima nodded, and the man left the room.

“This is it Shaden.” Kidima said. He looked back at the piteous form that still knelt before him, and sighed deeply.

“Come on…don’t let them see you like this.” With Kidima’s help, Shaden stood, and straightened himself, wiping away the tears that had finally stopped trickling down his face.

Clearing his throat, he said “Lead the way Sir.” It was surprising to Kidima that Shaden wasn’t nasty, bitter, or even sarcastic, but instead, walked to his doom in silence.

Taking the large iron gloves from the wall behind his desk, Kidima put them on Shaden, with only a few words said: “I am so sorry…”

All Shaden could do was nod and comply; he owed Kidima that…he hadn’t brutalised him in this unconscious state…and this wasn’t his fault.

The execution chamber, was a large hexagonal building, with masters standing in all six corners, and a large crystal stand in the center.

At the high table, sat Imogen, in the middle, with two Maesters either side of him. The three of them, were the ones to judge Shaden, and the three of them, hated him, or at least…to his knowledge they did…

As Shaden entered the darkened room, Kidima holding his gloved hands behind him, he glanced up at the high table. He tried to find any tell-tale signs as to who the Maesters were, but, as they were veiled, he hadn’t a chance. Trying to take in his surroundings, he was hoisted up onto the stand by Kidima, as he still didn’t have the use of his hands.

“Shaden the III, son of Judas, grandson of Shaden the II. You are here with the charges of the attempted assassination of Headman Imogen the Strong.”

The Strong?? When did THAT happen? Thought Shaden.

He was thinking a lot clearer as Kidima had given him a Yinet drink. It flowed warm, and soothing around his system, healing any aches and pains, and he carried on trying to figure out who the Maesters were.

“Headman Imogen has shown us the events in motion from his viewpoint. Will you give your consent to a Scribe?” the second Maester on Imogen’s left spoke gravely, old brown eyes showing through the black veil.

Shaden frowned, his face darkening in the dim light, and shook his head slightly. He cleared his throat and looked up into the glaring eyes of Imogen. “I cannot consent to a Scribe.” Shaden spoke calmly and levelly even though his insides were doing back flips, and he was sure his heart was echoing throughout the hollow chamber.

The left Maester bowed his head slightly; Shaden could see the thought of “I’m too old for this…” running through his head.

Time seemed to stop, or slow down, as those precious few minutes Shaden could have left ticked by.

Imogen continued to glare at him, while the Maesters, clad in their dark robes and black veils, watched, or they could have had their eyes closed. Sometimes, it was hard to tell unless they had the light on their faces.

“Shaden, “ spoke the right Maester, who, to his surprise was female, “You only have two choices, submit to the scribe, or you die.”

Shaden closed his eyes, and thought about it, trying to concentrate on what the scribes actually did. His only fear though, was the fact that, what if this scribe found certain secrets in the depths of Shadens mind that he shouldn’t? certain secrets entrusted to him and only him…

“If I consent to this Scribe” said Shaden, half questioning half wondering out loud, “Will the Scribe breach my right to privacy of mind?”

Imogen stood up suddenly, banging his fists upon the table, seemingly mad with frustration and impatience.

“You are a criminal!” he screeched “You have no rights!!”

The right Maester elegantly waved Imogen’s sudden outburst away as the left turned to him saying “Headman Imogen, you will be removed from this place of judgement if you behave this irrationally again.” His tone was deep and commanding and Imogen had no choice but to obey. It made Shaden feel good inside knowing that Imogen had to bow to someone. Imogen sat again, and continued to glare at Shaden, with a more intensified hate than he had previously.

“If you allow this Shaden, then I will be the Scribe, and I will not breech your minds right; I will not see what you do not want me to see.” Said the female Maester. Her voice was almost musical, and would’ve lulled Shaden into a false sense of security, had not remembered who she was.

Thinking hard, and considering possibilities, Shaden nodded slowly. He had no choice, take this risk or lose his life, leaving his vulnerable family behind.

The right Maester rose from her seat, making her way to Shaden with the infuriating air of someone who has all the time in the world. When she finally reached Shaden, she placed her gloved hands on his temples, and whispered to him, “Just show me what needs to be shown, think of nothing else, and all will be fine.”

Shaden found himself plunged back into the not so distant past, back to when she had slain the wolf hound, and made his way back to the village with Amorina, to when Imogen found him lying on the ground in front of the great fire. The images in his memory slowed, showing the archer, and closing in the poison tipped arrow, flying just past Imogen’s turned head. He watched the arrow hit the great fire, and when he turned his head, just in time to see the archer curse a miss, and vanish.

Then it was gone, and he found himself panting, leaning on his hands on the raised platform, the Maester back in her seat, discussing what she had seen with the other, Imogen standing a distance behind them. The experience could only be described the same way his mother viewed childbirth, painful, yet rewarding.

The Maesters parted, and Imogen resumed his seat between them. The male Maester looked at Shaden again, his face again in the light, showing old brown eyes.

“Shaden the III, son of Judas, grandson of Shaden the II, I hear by pronounce you, with the evidence of a Scribe, innocent of all accusations.” Shaden sighed in relief, fighting tears from his eyes, but allowing himself a very small smile.

“Imogen.” Shaden’s head snapped up and looked at Imogen the Coward, wanting to give him his best smirk. “You are pronounced guilty of accusations with no evidence. You are hereby stripped of your headman duties.”

Those words echoed around and round Shadens head, each time letting off another burst of happiness.

The Maesters disappeared from sight in the way only they knew, and Shaden was uncuffed and escorted from the place that he had thought was to be the last place he saw, leaving Imogen to sit where he was, in an unmistakable state of shock.