[ IP ] Ghost Riders

Another Affair in the `` Life'' of a Rider 
 
 His was a curious existence, born out of time yet allowed to remain. The black vapors were inexplicable, too much for muskets or the weather, they lacked the capacity for much else. Still, they swirled and crackled above him, blue lighting the black from below, such that it seemed gray. This was why he had been sent, reconstituted from bone, dust, and whispers along dirt roads, and his horse of the same. They had advanced too far for their time, and it needed to be put right. 
 
 He wondered briefly why they did n't notice him, the farmers and innkeepers along the path, he *was* dressed in the blue and brass that was the uniform of the Continental Army, but that was merely a token gesture. He only partly existed, immediately adjacent to his own timeline, flickering in and out as he went along. He was only allowed the luxury of certainty when his job was done. Thus, perhaps they saw spidery capillaries in eyes that darted too quickly from their overgrown sockets. If they did, they swiftly forgot it. 
 
 He banished these thoughts and coaxed his steed to reach, or, better yet, overtake, the lone other rider on the road. Then, they would see his face, touch his history, and learn his name. It would then be verified in the records, and his irregular contributions purged. That was his purpose. 
 

