Chapter 34. Return of the Raven.

  He was exhausted. Legs strained with every step, and the soft grass was beginning to become tough. No longer soothing. Each blade had become sharp, harassing that bare foot with every pressing. He was worn out, like the bottom of that single boot he wore.

  He was also impressed that Abram could travel for so long. He’s heard fire-tale about voyagers. Those folks could wander on end. Stretching entire continents in only days—on foot. The voyager was a determined one, and Abram was living proof of such.

  It annoyed Sid. He was not built for this kind of travel, and he needed to sit for a while, maybe even the night.

  “Abram, we need to build a fire.”

  “Not happenin big guy. Me ain’t sleepin tonights.”

  He hated this new nickname ‘big guy’ He knew he was big. Hell, everyone knew he was big. So was it really necessary to announce it out whenever he referred to him.

  “Fine Abram stay up all night for all I care. I need to rest though. I’m cold and tired.” Sid snorted while he wandered in a direction of his own.

  Brows furrowed while beady eyes combed the grounds for flint rocks. Sword tip flipping stones that were appropriate.

  These were all decent stones for creating a spark, he just needed them to be bigger. Something he could hold. Not these little flakes and pebbles. His annoyance grew with each turn of the stone.

  “Sid we ain’t sleepin out here tonight. We’s can makes this walk, we gets over that knoll. There lies the castle it’s just beyonds a field of golden grain. It actually be a nice walk. Me hasn’t been there in maybe thirty frosts but ye would enjoy that walk Sid. It be good fer the body.”

  Sid ignored the rambling voyager there was no way the man was any older than thirty frosts. Sure his hair was peppery, but his face was still young. Except for the wrinkles in his eyes—okay he may be a bit older than thirty, but it couldn’t be much. He shook his head listening to the man ranting to his donkey.

  That shadowy pup Fenrir was now following Sid and his wander for flint stones.

  He had come to learn Fenrir was a Howling-Shadow as did Arieo. Not a wolf.

  Sure it had wolf like qualities and features—or should I say the wolf had those attributes—whatever. Abram told him about the creature though—legendary thing Fenrir was.

  He would be sure to care for the pup and raise him properly.

  Abram says the shadow has the ability to jump through the shades—its possible. Vampires didn’t exist until just the moon before—not to him anyways.

  “Can I make a torch or something at least Abram. It’s dark out here. Can’t see too good in the dark.” Sid asked.

  Kneeling with a squint looking at the stones before him. He had found a pair he liked. Smacking them together watching the sparks fade in the grass.

  “Oh, don’t ye be complaining’s to me abouts yer visions Sid.” Abram chuckled nudging Arieo, who was now also braying with a joyous pitch.

  The two of them were stupid. He found it so irritating how the two sounded the same when laughing.

  Sid looked down at the Shadow. Really getting lost in those whites.

  He thought he could see—no that couldn’t be possible—gods anything was possible now. He kneeled down.

  Wrapping a sheltering hand around the pup. Gazing into the pure whites before him. It was true. What he seen was actually true, right there in those white eyes. That large body started to tremble. Shaking. Lost in the vision before him.

  He seen himself. His boy was atop his shoulders laughing. It was a warm feeling—a memory he’d forgotten.

  “C’mon Sid lets get a move on up this hill. Yer almost there big guy.”

  He wanted to watch this memory. Hallucination. Whatever. He wanted to hold that child one last time though. He wanted to catch that smile just once more.

  He wasn’t sure if he could ever see it again. He wanted to feel that joy. That warmth. That smile. It might be a motion he would never achieve again. Only the memory of those dimples from the beautiful smile his boy produced.

  Radiant and hopeful. It was the melting glow of the coming seasons. That season with the tender yellow sun that washes the frost away with smiling rays. The season that brings the bright colors after all the melting greys.

  It was gone though. Just those pure white orbs peering back into his own. Sid sighed, before rubbing between those pointy ears. He could tell Fenrir liked this, and he scrithced the pups face with both hands.

  “Good boy.”

  He choked with a shallow swallow. Watching while Fenrir came to all fours and chased after the wagon. Quickly slipping under. The thing liked to hide in the deep shadow underneath. Sid had noticed this during their walk.

  Abram and Arieo didn’t seem to mind the animal—now knowing Sid wouldn’t be leaving with out him.

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  Sid even continued to watch the tree tops every so often. Not so much for fire-tale myth, but for that raven. A bird he hadn’t seen in nearly two moons. What a strange interaction.

  “Sid come helps me with the wagon could yas?”

  Abram was attempting to lift the wheel over some rocks.

  The entire hillside had grown thick with them. Maybe it helped with irrigation, or sun reflection for growth. It could even be for the exact purpose they struggled with—just slowing down the process of arrival. Perhaps it was just a rocky knoll, either way some of the boulders were sharp. Rough and large. Really giving Arieo a hard time. And honestly Abram wasn’t making it any easier.

  “Push from the back Abram. If you’re holding the wheel how do you expect Arieo to pull the wagon?”

  “Ye got a point Sid. Me tolds yas that was a dumb idea Arieo.”

  Abram slapped his fuzzy pal on the hindquarters.

  Arieo made that goofy noise. Sid’s ears flinched at the sound.

  The donkey’s stomach also rippled with a growl.

  “Mes too buddy, mes too.”

  Abram agreed with those grumble guts. Watching that big guy while he took inspection of the wagon.

  Finding a spot Sid liked, those thick hands gripped. He lifted with ease too. That wagon was rather light compared to his anvil and hammers.

  He lifted the bed nearly to his shoulders. Letting the wheels glide over the tops of the rocky grounds.

  “Alright. Tell him to walk when I walk.”

  “Ay-ay.”

  Sid’s hips shifted with that first step. Now I don’t know how he got that horse rug to tuck around that wide belly of his, but he did. The how didn’t matter though, because with that first step and shifting hip, the thing unraveled, and fell.

  “Oops! Don’t ye worry bouts that Sid me grabs it for yas.”

  Abram was reaching for the horse blanket that fall around Sid’s fat ankles.

  “Abram tell your donkey to walk.”

  “Arieo c’mon quit playing games, me gets yas a parsnip when we reach the market.”

  Arieo liked the way that sounded. He’d been eating grass and tree bark for moons on end. The last settlement the two of them had passed through had limp carrots. He hated limp carrots. There was no crunch. The thought of that big white crunchy parsnip excited him.

  He flicked that remaining ear and gave a tail swish. Only those front hooves made the clopity sounds against the rocks. It’s the best he could do—his hind end was lifted with the wagon.

  I mean those back legs still tried to trot—it was kind of funny looking. Those hind legs just kicking at the air like that.

  They slowly made some progress though one step at a time. Arieo was extremely thankful to his master for tying an old pair of trousers to the broken shaft. It poked the hell out of his side during his runaway of escape. His poor belly had splinters and a tender patch of sore skin.

  The insects roared in the trees of that hillside. Chirping with irritation anytime a rock slipped under Sid. Many buzz and flutter with a lift while those hooves, squeaky wheel and fat feet walked pass.

  The needle like proboscis of a great black and yellow moth ripped into the side of a beehive. A bright golden honey hive. The moth loved honey, it loved the honey so much, the moth had even mimicked its own scent to that of the honeybee.

  Stealing the honey undetected by those hard-working bumbly boys. The moth drank until it became satisfied with its sweet midmoon treat, lifting from its perch. Beautiful browns clashing with blacks and soft gray, create an intricate pattern of camouflage along its top set of wings, while a subtle yellow and black design cover the bottom.

  Those large and dusty wings beat in grace. Releasing micro particles of glimmery dust. Each spec refracting the silver glow of the moon while it cascades gently. It fluttered beautifully before a large raven caught the bug in its shiny black beak.

  The insect let out a high pitched defensive squeak as the bird crushed its thorax with a single motion, then swallowed it down.

  Both Sid and Abram looked for that odd pitch of noise in the trees. That was all they had seen too. Just trees. Some danced in the wind, while others stood with stoicism. Branches waved while the clear patches winked.

  Sid didn’t like it. Something just felt wrong. Misplaced. He wasn’t sure what this feeling of anxiety was. Why were the night pines so eerie. He could walk the woods around his settlement looking for iron until the shadows were deep.

  However, now, out here in the dense timbers, in the long of the night. The rustling underbrush made him jolt. The silence was deafening. The aroma—well that was a whole different sensation. He wasn’t sure what he was smelling, it was hard to determine with his other nerves rattled.

  His senses even made fool of him. Eyes tricked him with each whisper in the branches.

  “C’mon Sid lets keep goin. Me gots something in the chest that will get us drink and food—”

  -Caw-

  Moonlit wings slashed the air. Sheen beak screaming, shriek and shrill. That dark bird dived down for Sid causing him to drop the wagon. Raising hands to shield his face.

  “Sid the wagon.”

  “Oomph.”

  He groaned, catching the bed edging with his gut.

  Abram only worried aloud. Scared the wagon could drag Arieo down with.

  That raven dipped down again. That black tyrant hang, slapping and pecking that round man.

  He could only swat with high hopes.

  Arieo and Abram hollered. Rooting for Sid, while Fenrir found a safe shadow under the wagon.

  “You damn bird its me! I gave you bread!”

  Sid could barely be heard through the excitement.

  The raven kraa’d madly while it beat its wings. Feathers flew like a chicken coop with a coyote.

  Arieo brayed happily. This was great. He wasn’t sure who to cheer for. His master sure liked Sid—but that bird was kicking his ass. Ahh he better root for the big guy, Sid just needs to bite the bird. Maybe he should tell him.

  “Haw!”

  “Alright Sid!” Abram cheered, jabbing at the air a few times.

  Wishing that black bird would try for him.

  “Gets it Sid. Gets it. Show hims what ye gots Sid. C’mon yer embarrassin me!”

  Was this that same bird? Sid tried for a better look while he swat against beating wings. It looked like the same bird—what, you think all birds look the same, cause they don’t.

  I’ll make an example of it too, what’s your familiar or pet? I bet you could spot it in a line up of ten—no out of a hundred of the same. I’d be willing to bet you could pick your pet every time too huh.

  Same is true with any animal, just look a bit closer, they all got their own distinguished pattern. Color. Marking. Whatever, each animal is different though—no this bird was not Sid’s familiar, but there was a familiarity.

  “Leave me be! Leave me be!”

  The mustache barked. While strong wings slapped him twice. Three times before lifting into the trees. Just in time too. Sid had a slight hold of one of those wings.

  Arieo really thought Sid was going to grab that bird—what a shame.

  “haw-heeeeee"

  “Oh shut up Arieo. That bird would have whipped yer ass too. C'mon Sid ye did good big guy, lets get this wagon over the top. Arieo should be able to pull it down.”

  Sid watched the bird in the tree. The thing had so much intimidation. The way it just ruffled it feathers. Swelling bigger and bigger. Taunting him from the branch. Like an assassin waiting to drop.

  Was it a warning? Was the raven trying to tell him something? His mind raced. Beady eyes peered through the trees around. Shadows of fire-tale crept through his imagination.

  “Wait. Let's check first before we walk the animals into danger.”

  “What? No. Let’s go Sid there be no danger, c'mon pick the wagon up. The quicker we gets there the quicker we gets a drink.”

  A drink sounded good to Sid. Perhaps the castle had a good strong mead. A real dark brew that sting the eyes and warmed the pits of his belly.

  He enjoyed a stiff drink. A soft drink. A light drink. A dark drink. A bubbly drink. A stale drink. Hell, Sid just liked to drink—folks got their flaws here too.