Tag Archives: Dungeons & Dragons

The Sliver – Part 6 of 6

Leave a reply

< Return to The Sliver Part 5

Kait paused, her mind still struggling to understand what was happening. She stepped towards her brother, but Calos called out pointing towards the floor.

            She looked down, her eyes following a soft splattering sound. Her breath caught in her throat.
            The sliver was not just a piece of a thorn. Somehow, the thing had grown and thin tendrils whipped at the air and ground, slapping against the stones and blood. It bounced as if the flesh and blood had given it unreal life.
            “That… that… was in… me…” Keirn whispered.
            The demonic seed slapped some more, bouncing like a fish out of water. It eventually strayed close to the firewood where the thin tendrils stopped striking stone and hit bark instead. Filled with an unnatural purpose the tendrils wrapped around the wood digging into the surface. The thorny seed sucked against the bark, imbedding itself within the fibrous remains. There, it appeared to take root, new tendrils cracking from the seed’s surface and wrapping around the wood.
            Kait watched in horror as the firewood was quickly enveloped within a green mass. The wood shook from the ordeal splintering beneath the strength of the plants crushing grip.
            Calos immediately sprang forward, rapidly snapping his palm against the piece of wood. As if sensing his approach, some of the tendrils unfolded attempting to wrap around his wrist with their thorny grip. However, the strike came so quickly that they snapped only the empty air as the chunk of wood became airborne. It struck against the floor once before skidding into the dying embers of the fire.
            There was a popping and crackling as the flames leapt upon the new fuel. The fire burst into life as a sickening squeal arose. The sound persisted for a few seconds as the three watched the flames burst along the green plant, running all along its length and turning it into charcoal. The squealing then ceased.
            Kait hurried to her brother, who had already begun tying his blood soaked cloth around his open wound.
            “Are you alright?” she cried.
            He looked up at her. Gone was the wildness that had greeted her earlier, replaced by weariness and a hint of relief.
            “I got it,” he smiled before his head fell back and his eyes closed.
            Kait and Calos picked him up and lay him close to the fire. Calos padded up his bedroll as Kait tied a clean bandage around his hand. She used a damp cloth to clean his arm and face as best she could.
            “I’ll stay up and watch over him,” she told Calos. But he shook his head and refused to go to sleep. The two of them stayed up watching over him until sleep snatched Kait from her persistent vigil.
            When Kait opened her eyes, she was greeted with the bright morning sun. She slowly raised her head, half wondering if the events swimming foggily in her mind of the previous night had just been a bad dream. However, her heart began to beat furiously as she rose from her slumber.
            She was lying alone in that empty inn.
            Neither Calos nor Keirn were anywhere in sight. Keirn’s bedroll was still unrolled on the ground, rumpled and carelessly laid aside. Kait reached around for her bow, affirming its proximity, before she quickly tossed on her over coat. She was just clasping her cloak when Calos strolled casually into the inn, a few large branches tucked under his arm.
            He gave her a quizzical look as he walked to the fire, threw a few fresh pieces of wood on, stoked the flames and stirred the softly boiling pot.
            “Ummm… where’s Keirn?” Kait asked.
            Calos pointed out the door. Bow and quiver in hand, Kait walked to the empty entranceway.
            The town was still deserted, small whirlwinds of dust kicking along the dried streets. Kait looked up and down the main throughway then ducked back inside the inn.
            “Where exactly is he?” she asked.
            Calos sighed and waved his hand at the door. Kait frowned.
            “Wouldn’t it be easier if you just told me?!”
            Calos chewed his lip, and then smiled. He produced a pool, scooped some of the cooked wheat into it and offered it politely to her. Reluctantly, Kait dropped the subject and turned to eating the meagre gruel that was breakfast.
            She was almost done her bowl when Keirn strolled in.
            “Finally. I thought we would have to toss a whole day’s travels because you weren’t going to wake up.”
            “Where have you been?!”
            “I see Calos made breakfast. Great, I’m starving.”
            Keirn walked over and took the offered bowl. He ignored his sister’s queries until he had finished of the gruel and washed its bland taste away with a healthy mouthful of water.
            “You had me worried sick, where did you wander off?”
            “Well, by my estimation,” Keirn said, leaning back against his crumbled bedroll, “I suspect that the source of all our troubles is not too far from here.”
            “What are you talking about?”
            “That plant… thing that had unceremoniously been incubating in my hand,” Keirn said, his voice biting with bitterness. “I’m fairly certain I’ve located its root system.”
            “I’m sorry… what?”
            “Last night, after you had fallen asleep, I was given the chance to think over everything that had occurred. I’m fairly certain that I had been infected with some bizarre parasitic plant life that imbeds itself into other organic flesh to obtain nutrients and grow. What I had was just a feeler of the damn thing. But, since it is a plant, it must have a root system in order to obtain water. If we destroy the roots, the plant should shrivel and die. Just like plucking a weed.”
            “Wait, so that thing that… you had… there’s more of it?”
            “Yes, and I believe it’s in the farmstead to the south of us.”
            “What makes you say that?”
            “Well, it certainly couldn’t be living in this desolate waste and I contracted the sliver between the farmstead and this village. As we had already encountered animal life in the woods, it had to be the farmstead. Course, I went this morning once dawn broke to check it out.”
            “All by yourself?!”
            “Well, Calos had to tend the fire and you were sleeping.”
            “What if… you got seeded again?!”
            “Psh,” Keirn said dismissively. “Now that I know what I have to keep an eye out for, I’m not worried. Come, finish your breakfast. I hope you liked it; it’s the last of our food stores.”
            Keirn then stood, grabbing his sword and walked out of the inn. Calos shrugged and poured the ashes of the previous fire to douse the current flame before following. Kait ate the remainder of her breakfast and joined Calos outside, stomach still growling.
            Keirn picked up a torch he had left on the stone well and checked to insure it was still burning strong.
            “You aren’t planning on going there, are you?” Kait asked.
            “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”
            “Well, there are the obvious dangers for one.”
            “Come now, I would think you would jump at the chance to help your fellow man.”
            “But you wouldn’t.”
            “I’m wounded!” Keirn mockingly exclaimed, clutching his breast. “Now, if you’ve got your stuff, let’s go. If we’re quick, we can even get a half day’s travel before we have to make camp.”
            He then turned, strolling boldly from the town. Calos hurried after and Kait was left with no choice but to join them.
            They crossed the waste and reached the hill, Keirn never slowing his pace. Kait jogged to keep up with him.
            “Do you even have a plan for killing this thing? You don’t even know what it is?”
            “It’s a plant, what more is there to know? Destroy the roots, kill the organism.”
            “I’m not sure how I feel about going to its center when a simple thorn nearly drove you insane.”
            Keirn stopped and rounded on his sister.
            “I wasn’t insane. I was just concerned about infection. That is all.”
            He resumed his course.
            “Can’t we just continue on our way? This thing is behind us.”
            “Technically, it’s ahead of us,” Keirn replied, waving his torch in the direction of the hill.
            “You know, your pigheadedness is really tiring some days!”
            “You’re welcome to go home!” he called back.
            They continued on, Kait spending most of her time shooting hateful looks towards her sibling. However, anger turned to worry once they climbed the hill and began the treacherous descent down its steep slope. She had forgotten how difficult the thing had been to climb and stumbled multiple times even without the added weight of her pack slowing her down.
            Keirn made a show of wrapping thick cloth around his hands before climbing and the others followed as best they could in the path that he blazed. A couple of times he unsheathed his sword and stabbed furiously at the earth. Those moments, Calos and Kait made sure to give the spot he attacked a wide berth.
            After the treacherous climb, they faced the fence. However, this time around, there was a section that had been collapsed beneath a rather large broken branch.
            “I’m assuming that was you?” Kait asked.
            “I had to cross it again.”
            They climbed over the fence and skirted around the cornfield, sticking to the long grass that separated the field from the woods.
            As they drew closer to the farmstead, Kait noticed that the roof seemed to sway in a manner untouched by the wind. There was still the thin wisp of smoke escaping from the chimney, but it was much smaller now. The green colouration also became defined as they drew close and Kait felt her feet falter.
            The entire building was wrapped with green tubules that poured from every hole and space in the stone. The windows were completely wrapped by the plant and the straw in the roof was mostly gone, replaced by the writhing green tendrils.
            This was a much more mature plant then the one removed from Keirn’s hand. All along the walls, what could have been mistaken as individual climbing ivy was instead great leaves sprouting from the sinewy stalks.
            “I wonder how it seeds,” Kait whispered to herself, half forgetting the dangers that had preoccupied her mind before. Thus, as they circled the farmstead, gauging the best entry point, Kait spent her time looking for buds or cones that the plant could use for reproduction.
            “Here we go,” Keirn muttered. There was a storm cellar entrance that was framed in iron. Tendrils broke through the wood but most of it was gone and the plant seemed reluctant to wrap around the iron frame.
            “Everyone ready for this?” Keirn asked. He frowned slightly. “Kait, if you want, you can stay out here.”
            “No,” Kait said quickly, her curiosity peaked. “I want to go inside.”
            “Very well. I suggest we keep our weapons ready. If the seed’s vigour is any judge, we may have to defend ourselves.”
            With that, Keirn kicked in the remainder of the cellar door. The tendrils snapped back as he pushed his way in, the torch held out in front of him like a ward, his sword held back ready to strike anything that came near.
            They stepped down into the cellar. There was an incredibly earthly and sickly sweet smell. Kait couldn’t identify it, but assumed it was coming from the masses of green vines that stretched along the ground. Most of them ran up the stairs into the main household but a large portion was wrapped about a hump in one corner of the room. Keirn approached cautiously, the torch constantly flicking from side to side as if he expected tendrils to shoot from the shadows at any moment.
            The tendrils forming the hump seemed the most active, slowly wrapping and squeezing together. The sickly smell seemed to rise from that area of the cellar. Slowly Keirn held his sword over the mass. The plant didn’t seem to react, though how it would Kait didn’t know. After a moment’s deliberation, Keirn plunged his weapon into the heap.
            Several vines severed at the thrust. Those cut but still intact recoiled from the blow, snapping into the darkness and retreating through a collapsed portion in the cellar’s wall to the safety of the shadows beyond.
            A peculiar liquid oozed up from the darkened heap, pooling over the remaining vines. The tendrils that hadn’t recoiled continued their steady strangulation. Keirn lifted his sword to the light, the dark ooze revealed to be a sickly red.
            “Blood,” Keirn muttered. He bent down and cut away at more of the vines. Several snapped away while Keirn removed a portion of the plant. He stepped back once he had cut off enough to see beneath the tendrils, a look of revulsion on his face.
            “What is it?” Kait asked. She moved closer but Keirn pulled the torch away so she couldn’t see clearly.
            “Let’s keep going,” he muttered. He stepped carefully towards the hole.
            Kait lingered a little, trying to see through the dark at the heap. But she couldn’t make out anything distinct with the torch’s light vanishing. Also, there was a stomach turning squelching as the vines continued their binding. She took a deep breath and followed the other two.
            The room they entered appeared to be the wine cellar. Most of the casks lay broken and covered in the vines, which continued into rough hewn rock beyond. The trio didn’t linger long sensing that what they sought lay in the unshaped earth.
            The vines didn’t cover this tunnel as much as they did the farmstead. They formed a thick, slowly moving cord in the centre. Keirn stuck close to the dry earthen walls. Calos and Kait followed carefully in his footsteps. The tunnel began to gently slope downwards.
            “Do you think it dug this?” Kait asked.
            “No, I think this was part of the farm,” Keirn muttered.
            The tunnel bent sharply then opened up into a spacious cavern. Water, from an underground river, trickled out of a small mouth in the western wall, forming a short waterfall that splattered ominously.
            The vines coalesced near the center of the room, wrapping about themselves until they formed a large pillar crowned with a single broad white petal flower. A peculiar luminescence emanated from the petals, casting off a ghostly glimmer that lit the cavern on its own. Three enormous stamens emerged from the center, casting off soft golden flakes into the air.
            Unlike the tunnel, the vines spread out to ledges carved into the walls. Water trickled down these smoothed outcroppings that appeared to have been hand carved. Leafy protrusions grew from these elevated pools, each slightly different than the rest displaying a remarkable variability in leaf size, colour and texture.
            “I think that’s it,” Calos whispered.
            A loud scratching echoed behind them and the three all turned around. The long trail of vines was rapidly slithering down the tunnel, a large bulk transported within their grasp. The trio jumped aside as the large mass was yanked into the cavern, pulled towards the flowered pillar in the center. Once it retracted within the folds, the plant began to quiver and shake. The stamens released even more pollen as the pillar’s base expanded until the lump was dragged into the dead center of the plant.
            The vines then constricted into themselves, a ghastly crunch ensuing. The red sanguine poured from the numerous spaces between the vines, rushing down the stalks and painting them deep scarlet. The plant convulsed a few more times before the petals drooped; satiated.
“This is it,” Keirn said, stepping boldly forward, brandishing the torch in his hands.
“No wait!” Kait called.
Her brother paused.
“What?”
“You can’t just kill this creature.”
Confusion painted Keirn’s face.
“What?”
“It’s not evil, don’t you see? It’s just another organism, struggling to survive against the harsh trials of its days?”
“Kait… it kills people.”
“That may be, but there are many plants that abstract required nutrients from insects and the like. Are you to say that we must hunt them and kill them because that is the only way for them to survive.”
Keirn shook his head.
“Are you saying we should let this… thing live from some misguided sense of morality?”
“What makes us different from animals if not the realization that all life is precious and needs protection? This plant could very well be unique, the first amongst its kind. You can’t just set it on fire because of the ways it needs to eat.”
“Yes, I can, just watch.”
“But why?!” Kait cried.
“Because,” Keirn said, with steely determination, “it gave me a sliver.”
And before she could react, he pitched the torch with all his might. The flame flickered as it soared through the air, landing squarely in the stalky center of the creature. Immediately, the green vegetation caught alight. That same, eerie shrill filled the air as the flames engulfed the plant. Tendrils snapped violently in the air as the flames ran up and devoured the plant and its enormous flower.

Keirn watched long enough to feel satisfied the thing was toasted before he turned and beckoned the others to follow. Kait whispered a silent apology before turning and leaving the plant to its fiery funeral.

Return to the Short Story hub

The Sliver – Part 5 of 6

Leave a reply

< 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 >

Return to the Short Story hub

The Sliver – Part 4 of 6

Leave a reply

< 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 >

Return to the Short Story hub

The Sliver – Part 3 of 6

Leave a reply

< 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.

Continue to The Sliver Part 4 >

Return to the Short Story hub

Soul of Company – Part 2 of 2

Leave a reply

< 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?”

Return to the Short Story hub

Soul of Company Part 1 of 2

Leave a reply

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.

Continue to Soul of Company Part 2 >

Return to the Short Story hub