Author Archives: Kevin McFadyen

About Kevin McFadyen

Kevin McFadyen is a world traveller, a poor eater, a happy napper and occasional writer. When not typing frivolously on a keyboard, he is forcing Kait to jump endlessly on her bum knees or attempting to sabotage Derek in the latest boardgame. He prefers Earl Gray to English Breakfast but has been considering whether or not he should adopt a crippling addiction to coffee instead. Happy now, Derek?

The Sliver – Part 5 of 6

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< Return to The Sliver Part 4

“What happened here?” Kait gasped.
            Keirn walked over to the skeleton and picked up the key. He then turned and walked down the stairs, the others following behind. The key fit easily into the lock on the iron door but it took their combined might to push the rusted hinges open. With a hellish screech the door gave way, revealing the host of skeletal bodies within. They were all clearly human, laying atop metallic odds and ends.
            Keirn cautiously entered, taking care to step around the bones as best he could. There were too many though, and the sickening crunch of cartilage filled the room. Kait reluctantly followed, but Calos refused to enter, standing and watching with horror filled eyes.
            Kait noticed that numerous coins littered the ground, along with simple pieces of jewellery.
            “I think many of these were women,” she said, aghast.
            Keirn rummaged around the nightmarish scene for a bit, but abandoned the bodies and instead focussed on the walls. Ledges ran the length of the walls, and after running his hand across them he found they were covered in soot and charcoal. The stone walls were covered in black flakes as if they had been burnt.
            “I think this is some sort of oven,” Keirn muttered.
            “Then… these people were burned alive?!” Kait cried.
            “I don’t think so. The bones aren’t blackened. I think they were just locked in here.”
            “But why?”
            Keirn didn’t answer. Instead, he cocked his head to the side, then pushed the piles of coal and bones aside. He manoeuvred his way to the corner, quizzically looking at some recess in the wall. He held his hand before the opening, feeling the wind blow gently against it. Puzzled, he crouched, peering up the hole.
            “There’s something up here,” he muttered, reaching carelessly inside. His face screwed up in concentration before a look of triumph appeared. With a great heave he yanked his arm free. With a rush of soot a small skeleton tumbled out; the bones cracking against the cold stone.
            Kait shrieked, jumping back.
            Keirn crouched down again and looked up the hole.
            “It seems this one was trying to crawl out,” Keirn muttered. “I think I see an opening. Barred, of course.”
            “This is so disgusting,” Kait whispered. “Can we go?”
            “Yeah, in just a second. We should collect the coins.”
            “Ugh, are you serious?”
            “They aren’t going to use them, but I suppose you could ask permission if you’d like.”
            “You can get them,” Kait whispered. “I think I’m going to wait outside.”
            She turned and quickly left the room, Calos following behind her. The two of them waited quietly for Keirn to finish his scavenging. Kait closed her eyes but, try as she might, she couldn’t forget that scene. Keirn emerged shortly after.
            “We should keep looking for something flammable to build a fire,” Keirn muttered.
            “I don’t know, what if there are more buildings like this,” Kait whispered.
            “I doubt that,” Keirn muttered. “I don’t think the town’s big enough to fill up another.”
            It took a few more hours before they turned up anything useful. The three of them searched together and Keirn usually inspected the buildings first to insure there weren’t any more “surprises” lying around. It wasn’t until the sun began to set that they finally found what they had been searching for. Nestled in the back of a large fireplace, Kait discovered that one of the stones was loose and pried it open to reveal a secret stash within. Though they discovered a small collection of silver jewellery, it was the wooden box and satin lining that were of greater interest to the party. Between the box and the hidden cask of wine they found in a stone cellar, they had enough wood to get a decent fire started.
            It was in the inn that the three of them agreed to spend the night. Kait felt it was far enough away from ‘that place’ that she would be able to sleep soundly. Furthermore, there was a stone fireplace where they could build the fire. There was also a sense of propriety that Kait felt; it just seemed appropriate that they stay in the inn.
            After much fussing with the tinder, Kait was able to get a gentle blaze going. The three of them gathered around the crackling fire. The sun had already begun to set, and with it its departure came the arrival of the cold night air. After a few minutes searching, Kait produced a small pot, some water and enough spices to make a broth for them to eat.
            “I’m going to be really glad when we find a real village so we can get a decent meal,” Keirn grumbled.
            “Yes, well, we’ve tried the fruits and meats but those don’t travel well, if you remember.”
            “It’s good,” Calos said eagerly, digging into the broth.
            “You know,” Kait said cheerfully, “that’s the most I’ve heard you ever say.”
            “What do you mean, he’s said two words before,” Keirn corrected.
            “No, he said ‘It is good.’”
            “Technically, he said ‘it’s good.’ It’s is a contraction.”
            “Well, yes,” Kait said frowning. “But he was communicating three words.”
            “No. He communicated two.”
            “He said three.”
            “He said two.”
            “Look, he meant to say ‘It is good.’ Why do you have to ruin this? It’s a cause for celebration, he’s speaking more.”
            Keirn shook his head.
            “Are you trying to suggest that contractions are three words? What about possession. If I say ‘Keirn’s spoon’ am I communicating three words or two?”
            “Well… two I suppose,” Kait said.
            “So why is the contraction different from the possession?”
            “Well, the contraction is expression three ideas. It’s expressing that the soup is good.”
            “That doesn’t follow at all,” Keirn said.
            “How not?”
            “Well, the possession expresses three ideas. It communicates: the subject, myself; the item, spoon; and the ownership, mine. I’m not saying the spoon is your’s or Calos’ or anybodies. I’m saying this spoon is mine.”
            “Look, the important thing is he’s saying more. I don’t see why you have to ruin this.”
            “Because he’s not saying more,” Keirn sighed. “He’s saying as much as he was before. When he says ‘It is good,’ I may feel the need to celebrate.”
            “Fine then! Calos, can you please say ‘It is good.’”
            Calos only shrugged.
            “Sorry.”
            Keirn laughed.
            “Boys,” Kait grumbled.
            She wiped off her spoon and bowl, having learned before that washing dishes was often a waste of water. She packed her things away, then wrapped herself up with her blanket as she nestled down by the fire again.
            “Is it still bothering you?” Kait asked.
            Keirn looked up from his hand.
            “I hadn’t even noticed I was rubbing it,” he replied. A look of concern crossed his face.
            “Look, it’s probably not going to become infected. Just a few more days and I’m sure we’ll find someone who can remove it. I mean, it is just a sliver after all.”
            “I know. It’s just that…”
            “Yes?”
            “It’s nothing,” he said, retying the cloth around it. “I suppose we should figure out who’s going to take what watch before we all nod off.”
            “What do you mean?”
            Keirn nodded his head towards Calos. The young man, having just finished his broth, had curled up on the cold stone and fallen asleep with neither a pillow nor a blanket.
            “Oh, dear. We need to get that poor boy a bedroll,” Kait said.
            “I think he may like it better that way.”
            “Miser.”
            “I’m serious. There’s something… peaceful about him when he sleeps. I don’t think he minds too much.”
            “How can anyone enjoy falling asleep on hard stone or rough ground?”
            “You could always ask him,” Keirn grinned.
            “Thanks. Want me to take second?”
            “No,” Keirn sighed. “I know how much you hate it. Besides, I can fall asleep easier than you can.”
            “You sure?”
            “Yes.”
            “Alright,” Kait smiled. “Try not to sleep too well.”
            It wasn’t that she was worried, there wasn’t anything out there that they really had to keep watch for. Mostly, they would have to insure the fire remained lit. Kait was just reluctant to fall asleep while her mind was still thinking about that room. All through her watch she kept glancing up at the door, half expecting a skeletal host to be standing there with eyes full of anger because the three of them had done nothing to save them.
            Through the night she kept her bow and arrows by her side. But there was nothing in that small village. There was no howling of distant wolves, buzzing of insects or neighing of nearby horses. It was strange to spend a night in an inn and have nothing but the soft snores of her companions to listen to. She entertained herself by watching the hypnotic flickering of the fires, though while they danced before her she could feel sleep slowly sweeping over her.
            It’s a terrible thing, trying to keep oneself awake when the body attempts every trick to make it rest. She recognized the first warning signs, the steady drop in her breathing and the drooping of the eyes. The cold seemed to penetrate her blanket, though it was really just her body beginning to shut down. She fought as best she could; snapping her head back every dip it took. She tried counting the number of times her chin touched her chest: 1… 2… 3…
            It was the light tapping on her shoulder that brought her crashing back to consciousness. Keirn wordlessly pointed towards his discarded bedroll and she complacently complied. It was so much easier letting the night swallow her up once she was lying down, her head resting on a thin layer of crushed feathers.
            She didn’t know what brought her out of that conscious less abyss. Her eyes seemed to be open long before she, herself, awoke. The first thing she noticed was that the fire had burned down to a dying smoulder, casting deep red shadows as the last few flames burned beneath vanishing embers. She immediately noticed the pile of firewood laying untouched near the untended flames and a part of her recognized the immediate signs of trouble.
            She sat upright, looking around for her brother. She didn’t see anything at first, but she heard something. It was a ragged, almost ravished breathing that pulled her eyes to the dark corners of the common room. There, light by the hellish reflections off the stone walls was a dark form feverishly working with some nightmarish fervour.
            “Keirn?” she whispered, but the form didn’t respond. She pulled the sheets slowly back, her mind shaking the shackles of sleep as best they could. Her eyes seemed driven by another consciousness as they pulled themselves from the form in the half-darkness to the puddles on the floor.
            She gasped.
            Blood gathered in tiny pools leading from the fire side to the corner. She reached for her weapon, her mind conjuring terrible images of carnage and cannibalism. Still heady with the draught of sleep, she shrilly called at the monster in the corner.
            “What do you want?!”
            Its face looked at her; a face framed in crimson frenzy.
            “I have to get it out,” it grunted.
            She noticed then, the sharp knife in its hands. Blood ran in small rivulets down its arm, staining the sleeve and dripping onto the floor. Back to its work it turned, hair matted by sweat and dirt hiding it from her.
            “Keirn?” she whispered.
            Something stirred near her and she took her eyes from the form just long enough to see Calos stirring. He wiped tired eyes with clenched fists before looking at the terror unfolding. Confusion gripped him as he lay motionless witnessing the scene unfold. Kait turned back to the individual, slowly peeling her blanket completely off and getting to her feet.
            “Keirn… please stop,” she pleaded. The form continued its crazed cutting, a fresh squirt of blood shooting out and striking the cold wall. Kait felt her stomach flop.
            She slowly approached, making sure to step around the small puddles on the floor, fearful of touching the scarlet drops. She didn’t want to startle him, fearful of what he may do and unsure of what she should do.
            “Keirn…”
            She reached out, finger tentatively pressing through the air. He continued to ignore her, continued his cutting and slicing. Shaking, she laid her hand on his wet shoulder; damp from perspiration. He stopped, turning to face her again. Her hand recoiled and they both froze, eyes locked between fear and madness.
            He bolted, skirting along the walls away from her.
            “Stop, please!” she called.
            He made for the door, blood splattering against the floor.
            Calos was on his feet, barring the exit and he swerved, ending near the fire. No one moved, all eyes watching each other. Minutes passed with the soft popping of the embers.
            Seemingly satisfied that no one was moving, he returned to his hand.

            Kait cried, running forward as he held the knife aloft, bringing it down with crazed certainty against the offending digit. He howled with pain as the blade cut through flesh and released a new spurt of blood against the floor. Amongst the dark drops clattered something more chitinous. With the foreign object removed, the weapon fell from his shaking hand, the iron clattering against the stone. He slumped against the stone wall with breaths coming in heavy bursts.

Continue to The Sliver Part 6 >

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The Sliver – Part 4 of 6

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< Return to The Sliver Part 3

“What happened here?” Kait gasped.

            Keirn walked over to the skeleton and picked up the key. He then turned and walked down the stairs, the others following behind. The key fit easily into the lock on the iron door but it took their combined might to push the rusted hinges open. With a hellish screech the door gave way, revealing the host of skeletal bodies within. They were all clearly human, laying atop metallic odds and ends.
            Keirn cautiously entered, taking care to step around the bones as best he could. There were too many though, and the sickening crunch of cartilage filled the room. Kait reluctantly followed, but Calos refused to enter, standing and watching with horror filled eyes.
            Kait noticed that numerous coins littered the ground, along with simple pieces of jewellery.
            “I think many of these were women,” she said, aghast.
            Keirn rummaged around the nightmarish scene for a bit, but abandoned the bodies and instead focussed on the walls. Ledges ran the length of the walls, and after running his hand across them he found they were covered in soot and charcoal. The stone walls were covered in black flakes as if they had been burnt.
            “I think this is some sort of oven,” Keirn muttered.
            “Then… these people were burned alive?!” Kait cried.
            “I don’t think so. The bones aren’t blackened. I think they were just locked in here.”
            “But why?”
            Keirn didn’t answer. Instead, he cocked his head to the side, then pushed the piles of coal and bones aside. He manoeuvred his way to the corner, quizzically looking at some recess in the wall. He held his hand before the opening, feeling the wind blow gently against it. Puzzled, he crouched, peering up the hole.
            “There’s something up here,” he muttered, reaching carelessly inside. His face screwed up in concentration before a look of triumph appeared. With a great heave he yanked his arm free. With a rush of soot a small skeleton tumbled out; the bones cracking against the cold stone.
            Kait shrieked, jumping back.
            Keirn crouched down again and looked up the hole.
            “It seems this one was trying to crawl out,” Keirn muttered. “I think I see an opening. Barred, of course.”
            “This is so disgusting,” Kait whispered. “Can we go?”
            “Yeah, in just a second. We should collect the coins.”
            “Ugh, are you serious?”
            “They aren’t going to use them, but I suppose you could ask permission if you’d like.”
            “You can get them,” Kait whispered. “I think I’m going to wait outside.”
            She turned and quickly left the room, Calos following behind her. The two of them waited quietly for Keirn to finish his scavenging. Kait closed her eyes but, try as she might, she couldn’t forget that scene. Keirn emerged shortly after.
            “We should keep looking for something flammable to build a fire,” Keirn muttered.
            “I don’t know, what if there are more buildings like this,” Kait whispered.
            “I doubt that,” Keirn muttered. “I don’t think the town’s big enough to fill up another.”
            It took a few more hours before they turned up anything useful. The three of them searched together and Keirn usually inspected the buildings first to insure there weren’t any more “surprises” lying around. It wasn’t until the sun began to set that they finally found what they had been searching for. Nestled in the back of a large fireplace, Kait discovered that one of the stones was loose and pried it open to reveal a secret stash within. Though they discovered a small collection of silver jewellery, it was the wooden box and satin lining that were of greater interest to the party. Between the box and the hidden cask of wine they found in a stone cellar, they had enough wood to get a decent fire started.
            It was in the inn that the three of them agreed to spend the night. Kait felt it was far enough away from ‘that place’ that she would be able to sleep soundly. Furthermore, there was a stone fireplace where they could build the fire. There was also a sense of propriety that Kait felt; it just seemed appropriate that they stay in the inn.
            After much fussing with the tinder, Kait was able to get a gentle blaze going. The three of them gathered around the crackling fire. The sun had already begun to set, and with it its departure came the arrival of the cold night air. After a few minutes searching, Kait produced a small pot, some water and enough spices to make a broth for them to eat.
            “I’m going to be really glad when we find a real village so we can get a decent meal,” Keirn grumbled.
            “Yes, well, we’ve tried the fruits and meats but those don’t travel well, if you remember.”
            “It’s good,” Calos said eagerly, digging into the broth.
            “You know,” Kait said cheerfully, “that’s the most I’ve heard you ever say.”
            “What do you mean, he’s said two words before,” Keirn corrected.
            “No, he said ‘It is good.’”
            “Technically, he said ‘it’s good.’ It’s is a contraction.”
            “Well, yes,” Kait said frowning. “But he was communicating three words.”
            “No. He communicated two.”
            “He said three.”
            “He said two.”
            “Look, he meant to say ‘It is good.’ Why do you have to ruin this? It’s a cause for celebration, he’s speaking more.”
            Keirn shook his head.
            “Are you trying to suggest that contractions are three words? What about possession. If I say ‘Keirn’s spoon’ am I communicating three words or two?”
            “Well… two I suppose,” Kait said.
            “So why is the contraction different from the possession?”
            “Well, the contraction is expression three ideas. It’s expressing that the soup is good.”
            “That doesn’t follow at all,” Keirn said.
            “How not?”
            “Well, the possession expresses three ideas. It communicates: the subject, myself; the item, spoon; and the ownership, mine. I’m not saying the spoon is your’s or Calos’ or anybodies. I’m saying this spoon is mine.”
            “Look, the important thing is he’s saying more. I don’t see why you have to ruin this.”
            “Because he’s not saying more,” Keirn sighed. “He’s saying as much as he was before. When he says ‘It is good,’ I may feel the need to celebrate.”
            “Fine then! Calos, can you please say ‘It is good.’”
            Calos only shrugged.
            “Sorry.”
            Keirn laughed.
            “Boys,” Kait grumbled.
            She wiped off her spoon and bowl, having learned before that washing dishes was often a waste of water. She packed her things away, then wrapped herself up with her blanket as she nestled down by the fire again.
            “Is it still bothering you?” Kait asked.
            Keirn looked up from his hand.
            “I hadn’t even noticed I was rubbing it,” he replied. A look of concern crossed his face.
            “Look, it’s probably not going to become infected. Just a few more days and I’m sure we’ll find someone who can remove it. I mean, it is just a sliver after all.”
            “I know. It’s just that…”
            “Yes?”
            “It’s nothing,” he said, retying the cloth around it. “I suppose we should figure out who’s going to take what watch before we all nod off.”
            “What do you mean?”
            Keirn nodded his head towards Calos. The young man, having just finished his broth, had curled up on the cold stone and fallen asleep with neither a pillow nor a blanket.
            “Oh, dear. We need to get that poor boy a bedroll,” Kait said.
            “I think he may like it better that way.”
            “Miser.”
            “I’m serious. There’s something… peaceful about him when he sleeps. I don’t think he minds too much.”
            “How can anyone enjoy falling asleep on hard stone or rough ground?”
            “You could always ask him,” Keirn grinned.
            “Thanks. Want me to take second?”
            “No,” Keirn sighed. “I know how much you hate it. Besides, I can fall asleep easier than you can.”
            “You sure?”
            “Yes.”
            “Alright,” Kait smiled. “Try not to sleep too well.”
            It wasn’t that she was worried, there wasn’t anything out there that they really had to keep watch for. Mostly, they would have to insure the fire remained lit. Kait was just reluctant to fall asleep while her mind was still thinking about that room. All through her watch she kept glancing up at the door, half expecting a skeletal host to be standing there with eyes full of anger because the three of them had done nothing to save them.
            Through the night she kept her bow and arrows by her side. But there was nothing in that small village. There was no howling of distant wolves, buzzing of insects or neighing of nearby horses. It was strange to spend a night in an inn and have nothing but the soft snores of her companions to listen to. She entertained herself by watching the hypnotic flickering of the fires, though while they danced before her she could feel sleep slowly sweeping over her.
            It’s a terrible thing, trying to keep oneself awake when the body attempts every trick to make it rest. She recognized the first warning signs, the steady drop in her breathing and the drooping of the eyes. The cold seemed to penetrate her blanket, though it was really just her body beginning to shut down. She fought as best she could; snapping her head back every dip it took. She tried counting the number of times her chin touched her chest: 1… 2… 3…
            It was the light tapping on her shoulder that brought her crashing back to consciousness. Keirn wordlessly pointed towards his discarded bedroll and she complacently complied. It was so much easier letting the night swallow her up once she was lying down, her head resting on a thin layer of crushed feathers.
            She didn’t know what brought her out of that conscious less abyss. Her eyes seemed to be open long before she, herself, awoke. The first thing she noticed was that the fire had burned down to a dying smoulder, casting deep red shadows as the last few flames burned beneath vanishing embers. She immediately noticed the pile of firewood laying untouched near the untended flames and a part of her recognized the immediate signs of trouble.
            She sat upright, looking around for her brother. She didn’t see anything at first, but she heard something. It was a ragged, almost ravished breathing that pulled her eyes to the dark corners of the common room. There, light by the hellish reflections off the stone walls was a dark form feverishly working with some nightmarish fervour.
            “Keirn?” she whispered, but the form didn’t respond. She pulled the sheets slowly back, her mind shaking the shackles of sleep as best they could. Her eyes seemed driven by another consciousness as they pulled themselves from the form in the half-darkness to the puddles on the floor.
            She gasped.
            Blood gathered in tiny pools leading from the fire side to the corner. She reached for her weapon, her mind conjuring terrible images of carnage and cannibalism. Still heady with the draught of sleep, she shrilly called at the monster in the corner.
            “What do you want?!”
            Its face looked at her; a face framed in crimson frenzy.
            “I have to get it out,” it grunted.
            She noticed then, the sharp knife in its hands. Blood ran in small rivulets down its arm, staining the sleeve and dripping onto the floor. Back to its work it turned, hair matted by sweat and dirt hiding it from her.
            “Keirn?” she whispered.
            Something stirred near her and she took her eyes from the form just long enough to see Calos stirring. He wiped tired eyes with clenched fists before looking at the terror unfolding. Confusion gripped him as he lay motionless witnessing the scene unfold. Kait turned back to the individual, slowly peeling her blanket completely off and getting to her feet.
            “Keirn… please stop,” she pleaded. The form continued its crazed cutting, a fresh squirt of blood shooting out and striking the cold wall. Kait felt her stomach flop.
            She slowly approached, making sure to step around the small puddles on the floor, fearful of touching the scarlet drops. She didn’t want to startle him, fearful of what he may do and unsure of what she should do.
            “Keirn…”
            She reached out, finger tentatively pressing through the air. He continued to ignore her, continued his cutting and slicing. Shaking, she laid her hand on his wet shoulder; damp from perspiration. He stopped, turning to face her again. Her hand recoiled and they both froze, eyes locked between fear and madness.
            He bolted, skirting along the walls away from her.
            “Stop, please!” she called.
            He made for the door, blood splattering against the floor.
            Calos was on his feet, barring the exit and he swerved, ending near the fire. No one moved, all eyes watching each other. Minutes passed with the soft popping of the embers.
            Seemingly satisfied that no one was moving, he returned to his hand.

            Kait cried, running forward as he held the knife aloft, bringing it down with crazed certainty against the offending digit. He howled with pain as the blade cut through flesh and released a new spurt of blood against the floor. Amongst the dark drops clattered something more chitinous. With the foreign object removed, the weapon fell from his shaking hand, the iron clattering against the stone. He slumped against the stone wall with breaths coming in heavy bursts.

Continue to The Sliver Part 5 >

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The Sliver – Part 3 of 6

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< Return to The Sliver Part 2

Kait watched the ground as they walked. The cracks were somewhat interesting, reminding her of rock formations she had read about. She could tell that there had been a stream that ran through this area at an earlier time, before whatever draught had dried up the area.

            She paused at a moment, stooping over and poking the earth. The dirt gave before the soft pressure and as she lifted her finger, she noticed a white crystal mixed in with the dried earth. Curious, she tasted a small portion.
            “Are you done?” Keirn asked impatiently.
            “Yes, sorry,” Kait said, standing and hurrying to catch up to the others. It was weird, but she could have sworn the ground tasted salty.
            They continued into the desolate waste, judging their direction by the sun overhead. It seemed that northerly headed straight into the epicentre of the emptiness. Even the forest ended at the edge of the earthy waste. They could see grass swaying hypnotically in the distant, curving around in a great circle about them and vanishing out of sight.
            After an hour the three travelers crested a small ridge and saw below them what looked like a tiny little hamlet. It sat squarely in the middle of the waste, as if the dirt itself had come sweeping out of the tiny stone and brick houses.
            “Finally,” Keirn muttered, picking up his pace as he descended towards the small houses.
            “Wait, I thought we were trying to avoid villages,” Kait called.
            “Whatever, they probably have an apothecary or someone who can fix my hand,” Keirn grumbled.
            Kait cast a concerned look to Calos who only shrugged.
            “Fine, apparently some pitiful little scratch takes importance over our wellbeing,” Kait said, following dejectedly behind her brother. However, there was a growing sense of unease in Kait’s gut. That worry only worsened as they drew closer to the village.
            The houses stood quietly though there was still plenty of daylight remaining. While Kait hadn’t expected farmers to be out ploughing dirt, she had expected some sign of life. There was a distinct lack of smoke from cooking fires and chimneys. No shadows flitted from doorways at their approach. No forms huddled over the stone well. Only the houses stood, petrified sentinels keeping watch over what became increasingly clear was a ghost town. As the three got closer and closer to the buildings, Kait noticed Keirn’s realization slowly sinking in. Though he quickened his strides, his shoulders became more stooped and dejected with each step that brought him towards the empty hamlet.
            It was without welcome or fanfare that they strolled into the village. Instinctively they drew closer to each other, hands drifting down to their respective weapons. Calos said nothing, though he appeared far more alert with green eyes darting from empty windows to barren doorways. Kait reached around for the comfort of the fletched feathered arrows in her quiver as she tried to ignore the sound of the wind whispering through the empty shells of the town.
            Keirn just continued on, his right hand clutching his left as if he were concerned that it would fall off. He marched until he reached the very center where the old well stood. The wooden cross beam was gone, as was all the apparent wood in the village. No doors filled the entries, not a single shutter or window pane covered the empty eyes of the homes. It was all just cold stone. Keirn circled the well, perhaps looking for the bucket, and once he found that there was nothing, he just slumped against the stone.
            “Are… are you okay?” Kait asked.
            Keirn ignored her, closing his eyes and taking many ragged breaths. He clutched his hand tightly to his chest again, his face lined with half-suppressed pain.
            “Here, let me take another look at it,” Kait offered, holding out her hand.
            “I’m fine,” Keirn said.
            “You don’t look…”
            “I said I’m fine!”
            He stood, shoving his hand into his pocket and looking at the empty buildings. Calos emerged from one, shoulders shrugging indicating he had no idea what was going on.
            “I think we should probably look around for anything of value. Stuff we can trade or things we can use as fire wood. We may even stumble upon a few answers while we’re at it.”
            “Do you think we’ll be staying here for the night?” Kait asked.
            “Probably,” Keirn said, looking at the sky. “Safest place at the moment at any rate.”
            Keirn headed towards a nearby two story building. Calos headed off in another direction. Kait looked at the hollow windows lined with dry dirt, all cold and empty. She quickly hurried to her brother’s side.
            “Probably be faster if we split up,” Keirn said.
            “True, but if we aren’t going anywhere then we aren’t really pressed for time,” Kait replied, adjusting her pack so she could feel the straps tighten around her. Keirn shrugged and kept walking.
            They entered the structure. The first room they stepped into was quite spacious, taking up a large portion of the main floor. Judging from its location and the spacing of the rooms, Kait guessed this likely served as the village’s inn. There were no counters, tables or chairs though. Just the rough-hewn walls and the bare stone flagged floors. They poked around the main floor but aside from a thin layer of dust, found little of interest. They discovered a large hole in the ceiling that appeared to be the only access to the second floor, but there were no stairs or anything else that could be used to climb up.
            Likewise, the entrance to the cellar had no means of climbing down. There was just a large hole in the floor nestled near the back of the main room. From what little light that poured in from the empty holes in the walls, they could see that the cellars had been cleared completely out as well.
            An inspection of the kitchen proved different, however. Unlike the other rooms, this one was a complete mess. Stone slabs lay cracked and broken on the ground amid a pile of tin cups and plates. Broken glass was strewn everywhere, as if someone had come through and smashed all the glasses in the building against the floor. They found bent and twisted utensils too, but everything was either battered or broken. They sorted through the rubbish but were unable to find anything of value.
            Dejected, they left and searched the next building.
            This one was smaller, simpler one floor structure quite typical of a small country house. As with the inn, there were no windows, doors or even a roof but there was plenty of junk lying on the floor. They found twisted farming tools, clay pots and tin pans, an assortment of iron rods near the humble fire place and numerous unidentifiable objects made of simple metal or clay.
            Kait was sorting through a pile of twisted metal that may have once been a lantern when her brother began making weird sounds. She looked over towards him. He had been sorting through another pile of garbage but now stood hunched over, hands on his knees and breathing raggedly. A few coins were discarded around his feet.
            “What… what was that?” Keirn gasped. He looked over towards her, a piece of metal held loosely in her hand as she stared at him in concern. “What did you just say?”
            “I… didn’t say anything,” Kait whispered, dropping the metal. “Are you okay?”
            Keirn shook his head, raising his good hand to his forehead. She noticed it was beading with sweat again.
            “I thought… I heard… I think I need some air,” he said, turning and leaving quickly.
            Kait walked over cautiously to the pile he had been looking through. She sorted through the items with her boot but found nothing that looked remotely dangerous. She was surprised her brother just left the coins: it was very uncharacteristic of him. After she felt sure that there was nothing poisonous that could have accidentally been contacted, she left the small house.
            Keirn stood leaning against the stone wall. His eyes were closed, but he was breathing calmly again.
            “Are you sure you’re okay?” Kait asked.
            “I’m fine,” he said. “Let’s keep looking.”
            The rest of the houses yielded similar results. Not that Kait was searching as much as keeping an eye on her brother. She was getting worried over his odd behaviour and he seemed to be more preoccupied with his hand than before.
            After a few hours of fruitless searching, they returned to the well to find Calos standing there looking anxious.
            “What’s wrong?” Kait asked.
            Calos motioned for them to follow him. He led them to a large two story building made completely of brick and stone. Bars were built into the windows and the stairs were hewn bedrock. A metal door stood open, the handle having been bent and a large rock abandoned by the steps.
            Calos pointed at the rock, himself then the door before quietly leading them inside. This building was just as empty as the others, but appeared to have been built without any thought for decorations. A large iron door stood shut at the end of a short hall, but Calos lead the siblings up the narrow stairs to the second floor. There, the Fadens were greeted by a gruesome sight.
            A single skeleton lay upon the floor, a rusted and dinted sword lodged between the lower ribcage and protruding past the spine. A few other items lay within the remains, a few boot clasps, a large belt buckle, a thin metal hoop and a single heavy iron key. Calos then motioned to the rest of the room.

            What this building had been made for was beyond Kait’s understanding but what its final function was all too clear. The floor of the second story was predominantly covered in iron grating. The grating was built over the locked room on the first level and through the grill Kait could see piles of bones beneath.

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The Sliver – Part 2 of 6

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            The trio descended into the long stalks, moving between thick coarse leaves so plentiful that they kept slapping their skin as they passed. The corn grew so tall that it blocked out the horizon. Only by penetrating a few rows into the field and keeping the forest on their left was Keirn able to insure they were heading in the right direction.
            The foreboding silence was even thicker now, punctuated by the group’s footsteps as they crunched on fallen, untended corn. More than once did they happen upon evidence that someone or something had burst quickly into the field only to leave shortly afterwards. Great swathes of the crop were trampled. Whatever had done this must have done it recently as no farmhand had come by to clean up the mess.
            Eventually, the corn field banked to the right, and long grass continued on. Keirn paused, discouragement colouring his face.
            “What’s wrong?” Kait inquired.
            “Fence,” Keirn grumbled. “Who in their right mind puts a fence here?”
            It was a rather primitive contraption; thin rotted pieces of wood dug into the uneven ground with rusted twists of metal looped around to discourage animals from entering. Course, the barrier stood only along the side facing the group. Curiously it ended before the forest began where one would expect it would be needed most.
            “Should be simple enough to climb,” Kait replied, pushing a few stalks aside and surveying the scene. “Looks like hilly terrain from here on out.”
            The three stared up the large slope just beyond the fence. The wind played over the thick grass that covered its entire surface, as if it were some horribly hairy beast kept at bay by the ramshackle fence.
            “I hate climbing fences,” Keirn muttered. “Last one I climbed ripped a huge gash right through a good pair of pants.”
            “Oh, don’t be such a baby.”
            “You want to buy me a new pair of pants?”
            “Look, it’s not even that high,” Kait said. “Just climb one of these posts and you’ll be fine.”
            “I think we should walk along, maybe there’s a break further up.”
            “Or we could go back into the forest, would you prefer that?”
            “I’d prefer looking for a break…”
            A piercing howl ended the two’s bickering. They turned behind them, but could only see the silent corn. They waited, casting concerned looks towards each other.
            “You don’t think…”
            “Guard dogs?”
            “I was thinking giant mosquitoes.”
            “Look,” Keirn grumbled, “you ran just as quickly as I…”
            The howl cut through the air again only much closer this time. As a second hush fell over them, the siblings noticed the corn seeming to part in the distance as the sound of something crashing through the field grew clearer.
            There wasn’t any need for further debate. The pair turned, practically leaping upon the twisted barrier. Keirn attempted following his sister’s advice, taking enough time that his haste would allow to insure he didn’t cut himself on the sharp wire as he tumbled head over ass into the dirt and grass on the other side.
            Kait followed but caught her cloak as she was passing. She gurgled as the cloth caught against her throat, knocking her to the ground and beating the air momentarily from her lungs. Keirn hurried to her side, pulling the cloak roughly as the fabric tore.
            While the siblings freed themselves, Calos took two steps back and breathed a few calming breaths. He closed his eyes in concentration, took a final deep breath, sprinted towards the barrier and leapt with such height that he was able to spin in a single perfect revolution with arms tucked tightly to his sides as he drifted over the fence and landed gently on both feet on the other side.
            The Faden’s stared in awe.
            The rustling had stopped but there was a pitiful sound emanating from the corn. The three looked at the slope standing before them. Somehow it appeared even more steep in the few feet they had covered.
            “Only way is up now,” Keirn muttered, taking the lead. The ground was uneven and dry. He hadn’t climbed very high before he was reduced to grasping great clumps of grass to keep his balance as the soil crumbled beneath his steps.
            Kait, muttering about ruining a fine cloak, followed in Keirn’s footsteps but proceeded much slower as the bulk of her packs weighed her down. Her feet slipped even more as the numerous trinkets and junk pushed upon her.
            Keirn scaled a particularly precipitous edge and turned, holding out his hands to help the others climb up. Kait took his outstretched arms, pulling with all her might. Keirn’s knees dug into the soft earth as he strained to lift her over the lip. Sweat beaded his brow as he gritted his teeth.
            “Couldn’t you get rid of a few pots?” he hissed.
            “Are you calling me fat?!” Kait shot.
            Hands reached down beside Keirn’s and he glanced over to notice Calos assisting. Keirn hadn’t even noticed him climb up and he wondered where the lithe little man learned his athletic skills. Between the two of them, they lifted Kait over the crumbling edge, pulling her close to the hill as all three caught their breaths.
            From their vantage point, they could see over the entire field and to the farmstead in the distance. It was hard to spot from this distance, its green walls and roof almost blending in with the corn. If it weren’t for the thin stream of smoke, they might not have noticed it at all. There was still no activity on its overgrown grounds and when the three scanned the field for whatever they heard earlier, they saw only the gentle sea of swaying corn.
            “Looks like we snuck by,” Kait gasped, slipping her pack off and searching through for her waterskin. Keirn licked his dry lips before standing.
            “I’m going to climb up, see how much higher we have to go and what’s on the other side of this ridiculous hill.”
            “I’ll come, once I catch my breath,” Kait muttered.
            Keirn returned to his scaling.
            As he drew higher, he noticed the grass became less abundant. It now grew in sickly clumps. Tall, spiny weeds grew in its stead with thorns the size of finger nails sticking out from thick stems. The earth was even more dry and crumbly as he climbed so that it took him much longer than he anticipated before he reached the top.
            The hill levelled off in such a manner that it appeared like it had been artificially constructed. It was wide enough that it could have supported a large estate or small fortress. From this height, Keirn had a good glance at the surrounding area. Behind him lay the fields and to the left, the forest seemed to thin out. Stretching out into the distance, however, was not lush grassland but a great plain of dried and cracked mud. No vegetation of any kind could be seen in the blasted landscape. The ground appeared like aged and withered skin. Great parched wounds  peeled back forming small fissures within the earth. It looked like the ground hadn’t seen any water for years.
            “That’s weird,” Keirn muttered. “Hey, Kait, come see this!”
            He waited, letting the dry wind from the mud flats dry the sweat on his skin. His sister arrived, panting and gasping for air.
            “What?”
            “Isn’t that weird? What could have done that?”
            Kait shielded her eyes, taking her first look at the wasteland. Before responding, she unscrewed the lid of her waterskin, took a long sip then turned to her brother and shrugged.
            “No idea.”
            “I thought you studied trees or something.”
            “I read some books on them,” Kait replied, “I didn’t do a scholarly thesis or anything. Ask Derrek when you see him; he would more likely have such random information. Do we have the cross that?”
            “If we want to keep going north,” Keirn replied. He checked to make sure that Calos was still with them, then began to walk down the hill. This side had gently sloped down towards the cracked wasteland and had very little vegetation growing on it.
            But, though it appeared there hadn’t been any rain, Keirn stopped just before a sheer drop created from rain and wind erosion right where the hill connected with the wasteland. It wasn’t a long drop, perhaps twelve feet or so, but more than Keirn was willing to jump.
            “I guess I’ll take point,” Keirn muttered. He grasped a thick clump of dried grass, swung his legs over the edge, landed on an outcropping that immediately gave out and began to fall.
            He gave off a small yelp as he tumbled, his arms splayed and flailed for some handhold. His left hand found purchase, and he stopped his free fall as his fingers wrapped around a thick, green lump. The mossy covering broke and Keirn felt a stabbing pain shoot through his finger. Gritting his teeth, he ignored the pain until he got his balance and skidded to the bottom of the drop, falling to his knees and landing heavily in the dried dirt.
            A small cloud of dust erupted from his landing as he curled up holding his hand.
            “Are you okay?” Kait called. She and Calos scampered down after him, taking more time to make sure they didn’t drop like he had. They hurried to his side, pulling his left hand from his chest to inspect it.
            “I… think I touched a dead bird,” Keirn muttered. Kait noticed a few tufts of downy feathers stuck to the sweat and blood covering his fingers. She took a cloth from her bag and wiped his hand clean. She immediately found the wound, a small gash on his index finger with a dark thorn protruding from it.
            “Hold still,” she instructed as she pulled him into a sitting position that allowed the sun to shine on the wound. She carefully grasped the thorn with her nails and ripped it from his flesh. He howled, as if she were resetting a bone or performing surgery.
            “Boys,” she muttered. She held the thorn up as Keirn ripped his hand back and began nursing it.
            The thing was rather large for a thorn and appeared to be just the tip of the original. If she had to guess, it would have almost been the size of a person’s thumb. However, it was snapped and, after wrestling his hand back, she noticed that there was still a piece that had broken off beneath his skin.
            “Can… can you get… it out?” Keirn muttered, clearly trying to hold back tears.
            “I can try,” Kait muttered. She looked at his sorrowful face. “It may hurt a little though. We could wait until we get to town and see a temple.”
            “No!… no, I’d rather we get it out now,” Keirn replied.
            “Why the concern? It’s just a sliver.”
            “… I hate the idea of it being left there,” Keirn sheepishly replied. “I don’t want it to get infected or anything.”
            “Alright.”
            Kait reached into her pack and produced a thin needle. She wasn’t sure how clean it was, but it was sharp enough that she could cut the top layers of skin back and try to fish the rest of the sliver out.
            Keirn put on a brave face, but the moment she pressed the needle head against his skin, he howled with pain. Kait sighed, realizing that this was going to be more work than she had anticipated.
            “Can you give him some water?” she asked Calos. He nodded, pulling out his waterskin and attempted to distract Keirn with a drink.
            Kait pushed the needle quickly through the skin, holding his hand tightly as he tried to reflexively pull it back. However, with Calos there, Keirn attempted to bite back the pain. More blood welled up, and Kait tied a piece of cloth around the finger in an attempt to stem the flow. She wasn’t an expert in treating wounds, but it appeared like this small finger wound was bleeding far more than it really should.
            She dug the needle in deeper into Keirn’s finger, his hand convulsing as his body attempted to pull back from the pain while his mind steeled itself in the hopes that the endeavour would be over soon. She managed to get beneath the sliver and tried lifting it, but her fingers weren’t steady enough to get a piece of the sliver to the surface. His hand shook even more violently and blood kept pooling around the wound making holding his hand a sticky and slightly nauseating experience.
            “I can’t get it… not with this,” Kait replied. “But I’ve managed to get it closer to the surface. If we could get to a town or somewhere, I’m sure I could find something that would make this easier.”
            “Town close?” Calos asked in his peculiar, untrained speech.
            “I… I don’t know,” Keirn replied through slow deep breathes. “May… maybe north… of here… for manor…”
            “Manor?” Kait muttered, looking around but not seeing any building. Keirn just shook his head, taking the cloth Kait had tied to the base of his finger and tying it around the wound to apply constant pressure to it.
            “Nevermind, let’s go.”

            He took more of Calos’ water to wash his hand, than picked up his bag and began walking across the mud flats. Kait and Calos followed. Now that Keirn wasn’t in the mood to talk, the group fell into a growing familiar silence.

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The Sliver – Part 1 of 6

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“Just admit it!”

            “No.”
            “Why do you always do this?”
            “Do what?”
            “Why can’t you just admit that you made a mistake.”
            “I will when I have made one.”
            “Arrggg, you are so frustrating!”
            He let the branch snap back.
            She uttered a few expletives as the thin twig cracked in her face, slapping thick green leaves still heavy with the recent rainfall. In annoyance, she ripped the branch from the tree and tossed it carelessly aside. Perhaps not the most befitting behaviour for a Defender of the Wild but right now wasn’t the time to care about posterity.
            “Alright then, if you know so much, where are we headed.”
            “Away from those things.”
            “And out of the woods?”
            “With any luck.”
            “Just say it already, we’re lost.”
            “No. I know exactly where we are.”
            “Oh?”
            “We’re right here.”
            She frowned.
            “Was that your attempt at humour?”
            “I’m a fighter, not a lover.”
            “So why did you run away from those bugs.”
            “Just trying to keep up with you.”
            There were days when she could just kill him. Today was shaping up to be one of those days.
            She sighed, shifting the weight of her quiver on her shoulder. The thin leather container wasn’t that heavy any more, not since most of the arrows had been loosed. She only had six left which her brother was forbidding her from using. He wanted them to have something to go hunting with and he kept saying she’d need all of them just to hit the broad side of a temple.
            Kait looked up to the forest canopy. It wasn’t the densest she’d ever seen, the sun still shone through large breaks in the leafy roof. Judging by it’s passage, they’d been walking for almost three hours. And her legs were starting to feel it.
            “Can we take a break yet?” she called.
            “Just a few more minutes.”
            “That’s what you said half an hour ago.”
            “Well, the longer we walk, the sooner we’ll get out.”
            “I can’t walk if I keel over from hunger and fatigued.”
            “You don’t hear Calos complaining.”
            “I don’t hear Calos say anything.”
            She turned back to make sure the third member of their little party was still keeping up. He was a short man, with curly hair and green eyes that looked like they had been stolen from the scenery around them. He gave her a weak smile once he realized she was watching him, picking up his pace to keep in step.
            “You make that sound like a bad thing,” her brother smiled.
            It is when someone doesn’t shout for help because of some misplaced piety towards a vow of silence, Kait frowned, thinking of the little encounter they just withdrew from.
            The scene had been pretty much the same. The three of them were marching through a trackless forest with each tree and bush looking like the last. She had been bickering with her brother mostly because his pig-headedness demanded that he refuse to acknowledge any mistake he’d made. And this mistake happened to be a detour through some forsaken brush ominously named The Forbidden Woods or Abandoned Forest or whatever Creshnalik was supposed to mean in the local tongue.
            For whatever reason, Keirn was under the impression that she should have been the one leading them: that somehow she was supposed to have some natural affinity for trail blazing foreign landscapes. The only landscape she was use to blazing was the single story, single room school with the tiny dirt path connecting it to the rest of the small hamlet the two of them came from. She had no familiarity with animal trails or a keen eye for identifying one type of scat from another. She was lucky if she could get through her own grammar lessons.
            And Calos wasn’t much of a help to their current circumstances. He had mentioned only a handful of words since he joined up with them. It was easy for Kait to sometimes forget that the young man was even with them. And it was during a particularly heated debate between herself and her brother that Calos decided exert his existence. It took a few seconds for Kait to identify the strange tugging sensation on her clothes and when she turned around, all irate and ready for a confrontation, she saw a looming ten foot insect descending from the branches and leaves towards them.
            With compound eyes brimming with bestial malice, this creature appeared intent on inserting the long, sabre like proboscis protruding from its face into their pale, soft flesh. Face with such a monstrosity, the three of them did what any common, decent individual would do.
            They ran as fast as their legs and packs would allow them.
            So, whatever intuitive path Keirn may have been following earlier had been abandoned in their hasty retreat. But would he stop and let them rest, gather their bearings and perhaps try to find a suitable way out of this endless wood? No, of course not. He was hellbent on getting them inextricably lost till they ran out of food and water and starved to death. Or worse, become some fertile host for these ravenous arthropods’ larvae, destined to be eaten alive in their early stage of maturity. Kait quietly wished Jeremiah or Derrek were still her to help argue some sense in him
            Kait’s stomach growled loudly and she raised a hand to quell it. She looked up at her brother, balancing on a rotted log with some cast off stick in his hands like an explorer’s staff. He looked at the underbrush with a discerning eye, as if he could pierce the foliage to find some hidden path beneath.
            “How about a rest for some food?”
            “I’m not sure, we don’t want to eat everything right away,” he cautioned.
            “Well, that’s all well and good, but I’m starving.”
            “Just think how bad you’ll feel in a few more days without any.”
            “We’re in a forest! Even if we don’t catch a rabbit, there will be some mushrooms or berries or something else we can eat.”
            “Really?” Keirn asked. He straightened, looking about the empty wood. “Aside from those gia-normous bugs, I haven’t seen anything that’s edible. Unless you like the taste of ferns.”
            “You obviously haven’t been paying attention then,” Kait scolded. “It’s a forest, obviously there’s going to be food.”
            “Have you seen any?”
            “Well, I haven’t been looking since I’ve got some perfectly edible food in my pack.”
            “For three people, for however long it takes for us to find civilization again?”
            “Look, there’s going to be something around here.”
            Kait turned, stomping into the undergrowth. She recognized some of these plants but most were useless ferns and grasses. Sure, she could probably do something with a few of the mosses if she had to, but there surely had to be some rabbit tracks or bush berries around here.
            But, after a few minutes, Kait hadn’t found anything.
            “Well?” her brother smugly pressed.
            “I haven’t given up yet!” Kait shot back.
            However, there was a disturbingly lack of edible life that she could see. In fact, as she stood still in the underbrush scanning the endless stretch of trees, she was struck by the unnatural stillness of the forest. She hadn’t noticed before because of the arguing and the enormous insect, but there was a shocking lack of life in these woods. There weren’t any chirping of birds, shaking undergrowth from frightened animals or buzzing of normal sized insects.
            “How peculiar,” Kait muttered.
            “Isn’t it?” Keirn asked, jumping from the log and stepping beside her. “I noticed it a while back and have been keeping an eye out for anything: a deer, boar or bear even. But there’s nothing.”
            “How is that possible? An environment cannot continue without a diverse ecosystem to support it.”
            “I’m sorry… what?”
            “There’s no way this forest could be here without animals.”
            “Ominous… still want your lunch break?”
            “Of course!” Kait exclaimed, making her way back to the rotted log, plopping down and removing some leaf wrapped bread. Calos and a reluctant Keirn joined her, and she broke off some pieces for them. She enjoyed the quiet moment, savouring the crusty and slightly mouldy taste of the bread and the lukewarm water kept in the water skins.
            As she munched away, she let her mind puzzle over the peculiar ecological phenomenon she was sitting squarely within. She may not have been a classically educated scholar, but she did enjoy reading. While she spent her days in the tiny school, filling the vacuous heads of those bratty merchant children with basic arithmetic and spelling, she filled her evenings pouring over the dusty journals and manuscripts she purchased from those same merchant families. These varied from the natural sciences and philosophies to advance algebra and medicine. While most of it she didn’t understand, her favourite books were those on the natural world and the tomes on rocks and animals shared the prestigious place above her hearth with her cherished childhood tales.
            None of the scholarly works, however, ever mentioned a forest or wood existing without any animal life to maintain the natural rot and fertilization of the plants. The only scholars she recalled mentioning anything remotely similar were those espousing the horrors of lumbering upon the inhabitants of the forests. Course, the absence of wildlife in those instances was caused by the clearing of the trees they nested in to build the massive navies kings seemed to crave nowadays.
            “Alright, let’s get going,” Keirn replied, stoppering his water skin and tying it to his belt.
            Kait wrapped the remainder of her bread and tucked it into her pack before following her brother.
            It was another good hour or so of quiet trekking as Kait mused over the strangeness of the forest with Keirn continuing his aimless wandering and Calos walking quietly behind them both. Kait once again turned her thoughts to their absent companions. Surely Derrek would have some strange anecdotal story or obscure fact to make sense of this situation. He was far better at dredging up seemingly useless information from the dark depths of his mind.
            But he, too, was not here to lend his unique abilities.
            Kait was so wrapped in thought that she failed to notice the soft tugging at her shirt at first.
            “What is it?!” she spun around, frantically scanning the trees.
            “Wait,” was the solemn reply.
            The curly haired youth then ducked around her, quietly tugging on her brother’s shirt to get his attention as well. Then all three of them stood, the Faden’s wondering what had caused their companion to stop their progress. Calos simply raised a finger to his lips, signalling for them to be quiet before crouching low to the ground. The others followed suit.
            They stayed as still as possible, not even breathing, straining to hear any telling sign of some danger approaching. Instead, they only heard the rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze.
            “This is stupid,” Keirn muttered, standing suddenly. Calos’ hand quickly reached up and pulled him down again, pointing a small finger into the distance of the woods. Keirn and Kait leaned forward squinting in an attempt to see what was causing so much consternation.
            Calos looked from one sibling to the other. He was greeted with silent looks of confusion. Slightly frustrated, he waved them forward, still keeping low to the ground. They trudged through the forest for a little, until they came over a small mossy mound and Keirn and Kait saw the thinning of trees with a stretching field beyond.
            “Damnations!” Keirn muttered, falling behind the grassy protrusion.
            “Why are you cursing?” Kait whispered, “we’re out of the woods!”
            “And right into Angallan territory,” Keirn whispered. “That’s clearly farmland. I thought we were going to emerge at the Ukalie Plains!”
            “And what’s so wrong with the Angallans?”
            “Other than their xenophobic nature and propensity for arresting foreigners? You think this little trek through the woods was for fun?”
            “We’re not wanted in Angalla, are we?”
            Keirn gave a hurt expression.
            “You make me sound like some irreputable scoundrel.”
            Kait frowned.
            “What did you do?”
            “Nothing, I swear.”
            “Keirn.”
            “It wasn’t my fault! Come on, let’s go,” he said, turning back from the field.
            “I’m not going back into the woods!” Kait declared. “Not with those monstrous things trying to eat us inside.”
            Keirn paused. He looked from Kait’s stern expression to Calos curious look. He nibbled his lower lip in thought, scrunching his face as he realized that there was little chance of persuading his sister.
            “Alright, how about we skirt the farmland? My guess is we just came out a little too east. If we head north, we should be able to follow the forest edge to the Plains. That way, we don’t get eaten and we don’t get captured.”

            Kait thought about it for a second, but failing to come up with a better plan, nodded slightly. Keirn walked around the mossy mound, Kait following closely behind. Only Calos took time to examine the mound with a curious look, noting its odd bulk and reminiscent shape of something completely different then a large pile of earth. However, he abandoned his observations in order to catch up with the others.

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Soul of Company – Part 2 of 2

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< Return to Soul of Company Part 1

Keirn turned, summoning what little strength he had left to flee. He was tired of this ravine and its memories. He was tired of seeing the faces of the people which he had stormed away from. But, mostly, he was just tired. The snow grew deeper, clutching at his legs and tripping his feet. More than once he fell, unsure if each stumble would sap the last of his strength. Each time, he lay sprawled in the snow, the pain momentarily vanishing.

            But each time, the cold dug further, and he climbed shakily to his feet and pressed on.
            The trees parted, and the earth opened up to a shimmering lake surrounded by large rolling hills. The clouds were hidden behind the dance of the multitudinous flakes of snow. The wind whistled gentle across the scattered stones creating long snaking snowdrifts that wiggled across the frozen lake’s surface.
            It was elegant and peaceful. There sort of place young couples came to be alone and older couples returned to reminisce. It had strength in its pure beauty and natural tranquility. It was a fine place to rest. A fine place to sleep.
            But, of course, she was here.
            She sat upon the edge of the lake, watching his broken shuffle ambled towards her. Unlike the others, she didn’t wear her normal cloths. Instead, she wore a simple white gown that seemed to wash over her, blend with the very snow gathered around. She was not some ghost juxtaposed against the winter landscape, but a piece of the very environment, like another icicle or frosty tree.
            She looked upon him with eyes rimmed with tears. Like tiny diamonds, they dotted her cheeks, the cold and wind having frozen them to her face. She watched him till he was but a few feet away, the uttered a single word.
            “Why?”
            Nothing else could have been so powerful. He didn’t know how to answer it. He had plenty of excuses; he had used many when they had parted ways. The rest he had saved for himself as he wandered alone and abandoned but all of them sounded hollow now. He just stared back.
            A single tear appeared at the corner of her eye. It trembled there, perched at the edge. When it finally jumped, it streaked down her round face, freezing before it reached the bottom of her chin. There it crystallized, catching what little light broke through the squall and holding the sunlight within like a frozen flame.
            “Why did you do it?”
            “I…”
            He was going to tell her all the reasons. If there was anyone who he would tell it would be her. He had plucked up the courage and strength to tell her all his fears. He was so tired of hiding it that he just wanted to share everything with her.
            Instead, his knees buckled and the ground embraced him.
*~*
            Is this it… am I dead?
I don’t feel anything.
            “You didn’t answer my question.”
            What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here. I should be alone.
            “Why Keirn?”
            Why is it so important now? Why can’t you just leave me? Leave me to die.
            “I will, once I have your answer.”
            Because, Kait! Because… because I…
            “You can’t even tell your sister? Do you think so little of me?”
            No.
            “Well then…”
            I’m afraid. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose any of you.
            “How noble.”
            Don’t patronize me. I’m the one that is dying.
            “We’re all dying, in one way or another.”
            Since when did you become philosophical?
            “Oh, I’ve had someone tell me a thing or two.”
            Well here’s another. Leave me alone.
            “Why, so you can die?”
            Everyone dies alone.
            “Don’t be so dramatic. And stop being so pig headed. You can’t do everything by yourself.”
            Yes I can.
            “Well, excuse me. But last I checked, you’re the one that’s unconscious by the lake.”
            If I can’t do it on my own, then…
            “Then what?”
            Then there’s no guarantee I can do it with you. What if I fail when we’re together? What if I hadn’t stopped that gate and it had landed on Jeremiah? He would have been paralyzed. He wouldn’t be able to practice his healing. How do you think his parents would react? He has brothers and a sister too and do you think any of them are prepared to take care of a cripple?
            Or what if I didn’t stop that assassin from killing Derrek during his performance? What would I tell Aliessa? She would be heartbroken. And the kid has talent. He could be some playwright in the big city some day. There isn’t reason for him to be trudging through the mud and dirt of swampy villages in search of a warm meal and a comfy bed. He should be heading to the city, writing the next great performance!
            And had I not been there, you guys wouldn’t have been imprisoned. You wouldn’t have been hunted. Had Calandria been more vindictive, she could have killed you. What would I tell mother? We’re all that she has left. You’re all that she has left. She’s always been so worried about you.
            “Oh, so you’re pulling the martyr? Don’t you think that’s rather rich coming from you?”
            I dragged you guys into this. If I hadn’t you would be…
            “Sitting at home being bored out of our minds and dreaming about doing what we are doing now. You didn’t drag us into anything, we choose to come along. Don’t you understand, we’re a team! You aren’t solely responsible for all of our wellbeing. Besides, if you’re so worried about us, who’s going to worry about you?”
            I can take care of…
            “Don’t you understand? No one is asking for you to take care of yourself. We take care of each other! That’s why you got your friends to come along on this, isn’t it? That’s the reason that Jeremiah and the rest of us get so frustrated. You keep us all at arms length, making all the decisions and never involving us. The stories we heard back home are just that, stories. They aren’t real.”
            What do you want from me?
            “I want you to be you. Remember when we were kids and we would go running through the woods pretending to be knights? Remember the fun you had with Derrek playing all those tricks at school together? Remember all the nights you spent with Jeremiah beneath the stars talking about your futures? We want to be a part of your life again, stop pushing as away.”
            Isn’t it a little late for that?
            “It’s never too late.”  
*~*
            “I think he’s coming to.”
            He felt strange all over. It was like a thousand needles had been heated in a fire then stabbed into his body. Then, to top it off, he had been bathed in lime juice.
            He felt them standing over him before he even saw them. Lazily he opened his right eye, then the left. They were crowded by his bedside, all of them bleary eyed and tired. Kait was still wiping tears from her cheeks. Jeremiah looked indignant and Derrek, oddly, appeared genuinely concerned.
            “Move back, move back! Give him some room!” Jeremiah ordered. The other’s shuffled away, though only by a foot.
            “That was a close one.”
            “You wouldn’t believe the cuts you got!”
            “You scared us half to death!”
            “What were you thinking anyway?”
            The questions came at him in a barrage. Feebly, he scratched for his pillow in an attempt to block them out. However, his arms merely flopped like beached fish.
            “Well, what do you have to say for yourself!” Kait demanded.
            “…wa…ter…”
            “Move aside, move aside, oh the poor soul.”
            An elderly, grey haired woman brushed his friends aside, carrying a small cup in her hands. It seemed rather clichéd for them to be gathered in some old hag’s home. However, those thoughts were immediately banished when the cup was lifted to his lips and he felt the cool water running down his throat.
            “What… are… you… do…ing…here…”
            “I’ll explain that,” Jeremiah said. He proudly stepped to the bedside, pulling a thin pendant out from around his neck. “I believe you’ll recognize this.”
            Keirn frowned at the piece of jewellery.
            “Not really… did your boyfriend give that to you?”
            “Funny. It’s actually yours, I forgot I was holding on to it.”
            Jeremiah handed the thing to him. Keirn took it, looking the object over. He shook his head.
            “I’ve never seen this before in my life.”
            Jeremiah turned to Kait who had a weird smile on her face.
            “You’re not really good at this, are you?” she accused. She walked over, taking the large center of the pendant in her hands and applied some pressure to its side. There was a small click and the thing opened. Keirn turned it around in his fingers.
            It was a picture of the four of them, though the picture wasn’t great quality. Clearly, it had been painted by some amateur that had waylaid the others in the streets. Hopefully they didn’t pay too much for it, but he had a feeling that his friends had once again been swindled by a welcoming smile and useless trinkets. Keirn looked back at his friends, who were all smiling.
            “Turn it over,” Kait prompted.
            Keirn obeyed. On the back, a message had been etched.
            Keirn and Company. Together Forever.
            He looked back at them, his face trying its hardest to appear unimpressed.
            “You wasted our hard earned coin on this… this… thing?”
            “Oh, I think he likes it,” Derrek laughed.
            “Remember when you were saying how one day you wanted to look back on these days fondly?” Kait smiled. “Well, now you have something to remember with. And look, it’s been enchanted so that the paint will never fade!”
            “I told you that when I had stones digging into my back and I was trying to fall asleep. Don’t you understand sarcasm?”
            “Yeah, he definitely likes it,” Jeremiah laughed. “Think of it as an early Birth gift.”
            “Gee… thanks…”
            “See, I told you he would thank us!” Kait laughed.
            “My, you foreign folk certainly have such strange customs,” the elderly woman muttered, taking the empty cup and shuffling from the room.

            Keirn slapped the clasp of the locket shut before shoving the thing under his pillow and rolling over. He felt so tired and so sore that all he wanted to do was sleep. Also, he didn’t want them to see him smiling so goofily. And, somewhere deep down, he felt… was this happiness?
“By the way, Keirn,” Derrek piped up, “where are your clothes?”

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Soul of Company Part 1 of 2

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Everyone dies alone.

            His foot stumbled in the thick snow. Hands splayed out, he tumbled into the white powder, his aching body colliding with the frozen earth and scattered rocks hidden beneath winter’s white shroud.
            His skin was bare and bruised. Blood had long drained from the epidermis, seeking protection deeper within his core. It made him look pale; a ghastly apparition that, had anyone come across him, they would likely have mistaken him for winter’s spirit or some frightful fey instead of a human being.
            His feet finally found ground beneath him and using the coarse bark of a nearby sapling, he wretched himself from the ground. Small trickles of blood, like thin snaking ribbons, ran down from fresh cuts. The heat provided little, futile warmth to the blue skin.
            Naked and cold, this was how he was going to die.
            The world around him offered little comfort. Colv, known for its rugged and harsh land, was in the middle of a terrible winter. Temperatures had plummeted rapidly, choking the last of the crops with frosty fingers. As farmers were trying to salvage what they could, the snow swooped in. A sizeable amount of food store had been lost to the inclement weather. With the promise of kingdom wide shortages, it was really no surprise that the Colvians looked upon each new visitor with suspicion and half concealed hostility.
            Furthermore, excessive hunting had forced many of the native animals into retreat from the anxious hunters overly concerned about famine. Many plants and trees were withering from the early snowfall, unprepared for the sudden change in climate. It was the type of season that left the land barren and empty and wherever Keirn turned, he saw death.
            And all the while, the skies continued with their steady downfall. The snow drifting in thick curtains like flaking ash.
            He didn’t even know where he was headed anymore. His feet moved and his body followed. Had he once had a direction or destination in mind? He couldn’t tell. All that seemed to press on his mind was the overbearing cold, the chill in his body which he couldn’t even shiver out. His teeth had once clattered, his muscles had once twitched and his arms had at a time rubbed for heat. All that had stopped now. Only the shaky steps continued.
            Perhaps he was looking for a place to die.
            Had he one word of advice to pass on, it was this: if someone ever offers you a Colvian Nap quickly refuse and run away. Apparently, the tradition entailed being brought into the middle of some gods’ forsaken wood and stripped of all your belongings. Keirn wasn’t positive, but he suspecting that the beating was optional. Perhaps it was an additional ‘thank you’ for visiting Colv during these hospitable times. If Colvians are known for something, it’s their hospitality.
            This wasn’t how he had planned to go. Though most people usually don’t plan how they die, no one expects to perish in some strange foreign country, stripped of all their things and left to freeze to death in the wilderness. He was only twenty four years old and had looked forward to living at least triple that. He didn’t know what he was going to do with all that time; a predicament that had ultimately led him to his current state.
            As it was, it started many moons ago when Keirn had gotten the bright idea. Since he was at that important stage in life where one finally chooses their career and settles down, he was instead going to scrounge up what belongings he had and pursue a childhood dream of his.
            He was going to be an adventurer.
            Course, what the minstrels and bards don’t tell you in their stories is that adventuring is perhaps the worst possible career in existence. This likely explains why there are so few people in the field. However, Keirn hadn’t stopped to think about that. Instead, he had convinced his sister and two friends to join him on ‘discovering the world’. It sounded a lot better than ‘vigilantism’ and ‘grave robbing’. Apparently his friends agreed, as they had joined him on his mad quest.
            They had heard all the tales while growing up and knew what had to be done. At least they thought they did. They quickly discovered that you can’t just call yourself an adventurer and be done with it. Though they had initially decided each other’s role in the group, apparently the business worked quite differently. While Keirn had insisted on being the warrior of the group, somehow he had ended up as their token sorcerer.
            Which was all well and good, except he couldn’t cast any magic.
            Even the most basic cantrip escaped his mortal understanding. Almost as embarrassing, his childhood friend, Jeremiah, had ended up as their priest. His only problem was that he was an adamant atheist. Keirn suspected this radical stance arose from a rather disastrous relationship he once had with the village priest’s daughter. However, through either his austere moral compass or some secret religious devotion, Jeremiah had an uncanny ability to heal grievous injuries. He called it ‘holistic medicine’ and insisted it was a friendly nondenominational alternative form of healing that involves the understanding of both the functioning and interaction between the body and the mind and then utilizing that knowledge with the basic herbal curative properties to speed an individual’s natural recuperative abilities. He says holistic, everyone else says divine.
            Jeremiah.
            He could see him, just below in the forest’s gulley. He knew it was a hallucination, there was no way he would be here now. His stocky frame looked oddly out of place in the snow covered Colvian woods. He always claimed he was descended from half giants, but Keirn suspected that he said this in defence of all the teasing from the village’s kids. But, for a half giant, he was pretty short. Though Keirn had never met one, he was sure they would be taller than him, and he was only a few inches over six feet himself.
            But in his mind’s eye, Jeremiah stood there, all noble and self righteous. He wasn’t in the battered chain mail. He didn’t carry the great two handed sword. No, he stood in his familiar worn shirt, tunic and ragged pants. The knees were still stained with dirt from poking around in his herb garden. And in his hands he held a steaming plate of meat and vegetables. What Keirn wouldn’t give for a hunk of meat cooked by his hands. Or even some vegetables covered with his famed gravy.
            He couldn’t even remember what they had fought over. Likely, it was something trivial. Recently they had been arguing over just about everything. Things like, whether they should spend the extra gold, of which they were running low on, to get a room at the inn with a bath or to save their coin and sleep in the stables. Whether they should head south for warmer territories or press on into the north to see some of the winter all of them had been missing. Or even whether they should untie that kidnapped civilian or if they should just loot their pockets and pretend they hadn’t seen him.
            In the end, Keirn suspected it was his choice words about Jeremiah’s ex that may have finally torn the rift between them.
            “You’re just jealous,” Jeremiah’s spectre accused as he took a large bite from the succulent roast in his hands.
            Keirn paused, gasping for breath. The cold air ripped at his throat and, even though he knew the young man standing in front of him wasn’t his friend, he couldn’t help but lower his hands to cover himself.
            “As delightful… as it would be… to banter with… my delusions…” Keirn gasped, “if you don’t… mind, I’d really like… to find… someplace warm…”
            Keirn had wondered if his life would flash before his eyes as he approached death’s door. Apparently his past would rather haunt him as he made his way up the front walk.
            “Admit it. You always wanted what me and Autumn had. You want an intimate relationship where you could share yourself with someone else, make yourself vulnerable and not be afraid of being hurt.”
            “No… That’s what… you’ve always thought… I wanted…” Keirn replied. “Remember… Calandria…?”
            Calandria had been the one moment when Jeremiah had interfered with Keirn’s personal life. Jeremiah often commented on how the ladies seemed to flock to Keirn’s side, fighting with themselves for the young man’s affections. He had spurned them all. Jeremiah felt he had found the perfect one, Baroness Calandria Del Morden. After a whirlwind courtship, Keirn had managed to accidentally get himself engaged to the Baroness just as Jeremiah and the others were discovering that Calandria had murdered her father, imprisoned her suitors and was hell bent on the complete domination of her kingdom. Tragically, she had thrown herself off the balcony during the very revolt she had staged herself, right before Keirn’s very eyes. Or, at least that is what Keirn maintained.
            Jeremiah, however, maintained a different opinion on the matter.
            “Clearly she doesn’t count. People don’t kill the ones they truly love.”
            “For… the last… time…. I didn’t kill… her… She threw herself…”
            “Off the balcony. Yes, the woman who at the very moment she had everything decided prematurely plunge eight stories to her death. Most people do that when they’re losing.”
            Jeremiah’s spectre took an unconvinced stance. Keirn couldn’t help but notice that the food had vanished from his hands as he crossed his arms across his chest.
            “You know… what your… problem… is?… You’re to damn… moral…”
            “Only for you would that be considered a problem…”
            “It is when you… hate yourself because… you can’t even live… up to your own… standards… No one’s… perfect…”
            “You always have to be right, don’t you!”
            “I don’t have… to be… I just… always am…”
            And with that, Keirn pushed past his friend, intent on finding some miserable place to curl up and die away from Jeremiah’s judgemental eye. His friend didn’t make an effort to follow. He never did. He never knew when to give up on something and when to pursue it. Maybe that’s why his relationship ended so badly.
            Or, it could have been because Autumn was utterly insane. Sometimes it was hard to tell.
            But as Keirn pressed on through the snow, he wasn’t entirely sure that there wasn’t any truth to Jeremiah’s words. Was he possibly running away from something, even now? Could there be something which he would rather take Death’s frigid embrace over instead of facing?
            As he stumbled through the sloped ridges of the small ravine, he didn’t have much time to ponder this disturbing line of thinking. Instead, he found Derrek. He was sitting upon an ice sheathed boulder, carefully tuning his lute and appearing rather oblivious to the cold that Keirn was trying desperately to forget.
            “Am I to be… haunted by all… the incompetent… people I know…” Keirn sighed.
            “Hey, don’t blame me,” Derrek replied, still examining his lute carefully, “I’m your delusion, you’re not mine.”
            “Then… as my delusion… I banish… thee…”
            He had meant to sound more forceful, but his voice was starting to crack. His throat was hoarse and seemed to scream out for some water. Or, more tantalizing, tea.
            Instead of obeying, which was actually rather a testament to how accurate Keirn hallucinated, Derrek instead leapt from his perch and strolled to Keirn’s side. He strummed absently at the instrument in his hands, his eyes still mirthfully twinkling. Out of all of them, Derrek was the most likely to benefit from their harrowing travels. He had the makings of a fine minstrel and was heart set on heading to the city once their journey was all over to join a wandering troupe as a bona fide playwright.
            Unfortunately, Derrek also felt himself somewhat of an inventor, specifically of a new type of music that would revolutionize the entertainment business. He dubbed it ‘noise’. Uncreative, but accurate. Keirn knew little about music but Derrek assured him that every song he produced had absolutely no harmony amongst its notes. And Keirn was apt to believe him as it was as bad as it sounded.
            “If…  you’re going to… bother me… could you at least… not play anything…” Keirn sighed.
            “But I wrote this for you,” Derrek replied. “I call it, The Ballad of Broken Wings.”
            The only thing that sounded nice was the title. Keirn could feel his teeth clenching as his ears were assaulted by the dreadful cacophony.
            “Is there… any purpose… to this visit… or are you here… to make this more painful… than it really is…”
            “I’m no more than I have ever been,” Derrek replied, fingers still twisting and snapping at the lute’s strings.
            “An… irritant?”
            “A friend, who’ll stick by your side no matter what.”
            There was something undeniably odd about Derrek that Keirn couldn’t quite put his finger on. He doubted that now, in the grip of pre-mortem madness, he was likely to unlock whatever secrets troubled that carefree smile. It was just another unnerving reminder of how you can know someone for a long time and still not understand them.
            “I thought… I told you… to go… away…” Keirn grunted, raising his sore and tired limbs in an attempt to cover his ears.
            “Well, it’s not my fault that you chased away all your good friends.”

            “I’m… quickly… remembering why…” Keirn hissed. He took a pointless swipe at Derrek. As his arm passed through his head, the image of the loud minstrel faded. The noise, however, lingered.

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