Chapter 6. Departure.

  Sid was exhausted, not sleeping or eating since the night before. It was the least of his concerns though. The only thing he wanted to do was to watch while the pyre burn to a smolder.

  He watched while the logs shrunk. The coals grew. And the orange dimmed to a soft red and yellow.

  Those small flames still grasping for life as they flicker and blink. Only the broad sword and a partial bit of the monster’s tooth and Sid remained around the dying flame.

  Nearly forgetting about the pouch the elf had tossed him the night before. Sid frantically fumbled through his vest pockets. Struggling to pull a large hand from the pocket, the pouch fell to the ground as he yanked free.

  "Damn it.” Sid choked under his breath watching the small flame blink into a smoking ember.

  Dropping to his knees. Sid grabbed the pouch and cupped a fat missing finger hand around a flame that flickered. Losing its glow with each beat.

  Conjuring the gentlest breath manageable, while sprinkling the contents of the pouch, Sid blew against a smoking coal. Nothing. His eyes began to swell, his throat tightened.

  "Come on!” Slamming his fist into the embers before he tried again, and again until the pouch was empty.

  Nothing.

  Sid wasn’t sure what to expect, but since all the trouble of lost translation he was expecting something. A colorful flame that held the face of his son one last time. A thick smoke so he could smell his boy’s hair just to refresh that memory. A simple gods damned flicker of something. Give him anything.

  All he got in return was the mockery of silence.

  Sid’s face grew hot and he lost his temper, swiping into the smoldering ashes repeatedly, like a rabid dog. Sid’s hands ached, his fingers and palms were bubbled and wet with ripped blisters.

  "You were always great. No church would have changed that.” He sighed fighting with the heavy lump in his throat.

  He scooped a hand full of ash and filled the pouch before tying it around the hilt of the sword. Then using the sword as support, Sid stood tall. "I'm going to Stallitusk."

  "What for Sid, you have no trade, you need stay here and continue your work.” The woodman consulted, knowing Sid did not care for the folks that traded at the castle. Sid never left the settlement, only ever trading for more supplies when the merchants traveled through.

  "He wanted to go there one day; I’d never let him.” Sid said ruefully. Raising the sword the pouch dangled; Sid shrugged. "Today we’re going."

  Looking at what remained of his forge. It was now just smoking stone, and broken terratortise shell. The foundry was all the same, crucibles, molds and ladles ruined and scattered in the rubbles of what once was a decent setup.

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  "Besides I have nothing left here." There was a sorrowful motion to that bold mustache, while a heavy hand pet.

  "Well come with me before you go."

  Sid and the woodsman walked to one of the tents sharing a fire. Sid stood outside while another around the fire cautiously watched him. The woodsman returned from the tent, bearing a fine crafted wood axe Sid had made many seasons before.

  "Take it, don't damage that sword any more than it is. You won’t receive any good trade.” The man offered the axe, and Sid gripped the handle with heavy fingers.

  Adjusting the leather strap and sheathing over Sid’s back the handle rests above his right shoulder allowing him to grab with ease. Putting the head back into the sheath though was the tricky part Sid quickly found out, but it worked.

  "Thank you Roedik.” Shaking the man's hand, they both gave a few pats of the shoulder and Sid started for the clearing but was greeted by the creepy daughters of Isaac. One of which was holding a satchel.

  "Mother wants you to take this.” One of them little ghoulish girls held a leather bag out with a small hand.

  Inside was a small, stale, half loaf of bread and half a canteen of fermenting potato spirit.

  Smelling the open top, Sid smiled. "Thank you, girls."

  Waving to the girls’ mother, and ruffling the others hair, Sid made for the clear cut.

  "Sid!” Roedik shouted with a raised hand, causing several confused faces around fires to look.

  “Over them mountains will save you two days’ time." Roedik called again. He lifted a hand pointing to the tower atop the mountain.

  "We're going to make an adventure out of it.” That mustache wiggled as he called back, fitting the satchel over his shoulder, Sid continued his walk away from the settlement.

  The shadows stretched along the grass as Sid walked through the forest. He found handfuls of red fleshed berries. The fruit was soft with sweet and tart flavor. Clayton would have liked these.

  Sid then seen a peculiar growth of pods, not knowing why he paused his pace, and overlooked this plant.

  Now Sid wasn’t the type to stop and admire flowers or any vegetative plant for that matter; but something about this odd-looking bean pod was captivating.

  It slowly opened its wide jaws. Thin eyelashes or barbs unfolded from rigid lips. Completely open it revealed a lush luring center of clashing red and yellow. The colors were vibrant, and the barbs were now sweating with a frothy looking secretion. The throat of the pod bubbled with a foamy spit.

  Sid watched suspiciously while another three pods opened, before a cardinal landed atop the wide colorful jaws.

  The bird was a lovely dark brownish red, with a wonderful and defined black crest over its head.

  As still as he could stand, Sid admired the bird as it drank the drippings from the barbs.

  -SNAP-

  Sid flinched when the pod snapped shut. Eyes swelled while the bird thrashed.

  The plant casually chewed then swallowed with a loud -GULP- and the pod slowly opened again.

  Sid blinked in horror at what he had seen. He had forgotten how wild the wilds were. Another bird landed, taking quick fluttering sips before.

  -SNAP-

  Sid always heard that cardinals were birds that bring luck. Other stories about how they would sing the considerate messages from a lost loved one. What does it mean though when that same bird is eaten by the plant that was named after it?

  Sid released a hollow breath and looked for the tower atop the mountain contemplating whether he should return to the settlement or not. He hadn’t walked that far he could return before sundown. Sid leaned against a tree while he argued with himself about a quick trip.

  It wasn’t until the subtle bray of a donkey and wet laugh of a man, did big Sid put a mark in his self-argument. He hid suspiciously behind the tree watching the two. The man walking with the donkey laughed as it brayed.

  “No, no. Ye don’t be needins to worry bout thems no more Arieo. Man-eaters be extinct.”

  The man coughed, it was wet and rather sickly sounding. The kind of cough that made one want to clear one’s own throat. It was the moist hacking sound that never seemed to clear, and Sid coughed thinking it would help. The cough stopped, and so did the squeaky wagon wheel.