Chapter 35. I see us.

  “Is there dark mead at the castle?” He asked finding his grip, lifting.

  Arieo took small front steps while hind legs swam through the air. Dark beer was gross. He would much rather have one of those berry infused drinks. Not sure if this castle had them or not—but of course they would, what castle didn’t have berry cocktails. Not only would it be a letdown, but it would be an embarrassment to the castle. He brayed his two-shards of opinion.

  “Haw.”

  “Oh yeah big guy, like the darkest ends of the night skies. Some even gots a shimmery dust to mimic the stars. Women too. Doughy lasses who smile at everything’s ye got to say. Sweet things—”

  Sid shook his head while the man rant on about those pleasantly lewd women. The stories, however, were anything but pleasant, nonetheless Abram felt it necessary to share. Horrid stories of bedsheet with mind warping detail. Even having the nerve to ask Sid to share a few stories. Sid was not that type of man. He would never let Sophie be the fantasy of small talk.

  “What about fish and berries?”

  The question broke Abrams aggressive hip gestures. He looked up at Sid with a smirk of let down. How could he not be enjoying that story, Arieo loves swapping dirty stories—well actually he didn’t care for Arieo’s midmoon adventures those—well those were just some downright raunchy stories for another place—perhaps Sid was a man of a different genre of fantasy.

  “Uhh yeah. Yeah Sid. Yep lots and lots of berries. And always fresh fish. A river runs through just that way if I’m correct.” The voyager pointed in a direction that would lead beyond the hill. “Course then agains it could be back that way a ways. Like me says Sid me aint beens here in a long while. Way befores me even gots Arieo. But it should be that ways over there.”

  Sid shook his head while Abram tried to remember the direction of the river. Looking up for the crest of the hill he noticed that the raven was gone. The tree was empty. Same was true for the surrounding trees—well he couldn’t see it anyways. It was still fairly dark out. The moon still had a long travel until the brother would shine.

  -caw-

  A black streak smeared through the sky. Sharp chills electrified Sid. He knew that bird was coming back. But from where. Squinting best he could he looked to the sky. Only seeing purple ribbons of space up there. Those lovely colors dancing, clashing, reaching for those of greens and faint blues.

  “Sid? C’mon what ye be waiting for?”

  He ignored the voyager. Only looking at the sky. Watching for a shadow that haunted him.

  The kraa’s of such could be heard above, echoing. Trailing from one side of the timbers to the other. Pines groaned, making it difficult to detect the bird’s location.

  He could hear it though. Screaming up there. Circling them with that dreaded sound. He clenched the wagon. Swallowing even tighter. He took slow steps while he watched the sky.

  The big guys anxiety caused Fenrir’s to spike as well. The pup wasn’t sure what to be cautious of. From under the wagon, in the deep darks of the shadow, those pure whites peered.

  Watching for trouble. Keeping safe from any dangers. Any harms. Fenrir would not be wanting to fall for another trap. He was a clever boy. Only stepping in the one, because of a startled getaway.

  The same rush of panic ran through Arieo too. Sid’s nerves were loud. A vibration that practically hummed. He was truly surprised his master couldn’t feel it—oh well. He blinked those big, beautiful browns unevenly. Flicking an ear as a beat of wings flew above.

  Sid carefully felt his steps. Clenching obsessively at the wagon. Sid set the pace for the group.

  They walked slowly. It was a wandering pace, one that would have been nice—had they been taking notes on the speed of rock growth.

  The top of the hill was so close now. That meant the castle was only beyond a field of grain.

  Abram says there is dark drink. Fresh fish. Berries. Perhaps even a trading of trousers.

  They were so close to the top, the rounding crest was just there.

  He looked at the hue of colors above. Not so much for the beauty, but for the shrill sound. Unsure if it was winds or the bird now—there it was. He seen the wings smudging against the night sky. He stopped. Watching the bird circle above.

  Abram scrunched his face looking into the night clash of colors up there.

  “What Sid? It just be a damn crow.”

  “It’s a raven.” Sid corrected. “And that bird attacked me before.”

  “Well, …that be damn suspicious Sid—”

  -CAW-

  Black ripped above. Slashing through the tops. Through the branches. Diving like a predatory chase. Legs extended. Talons reaching. Sharp claws were absorbed. Digging deep into a rosy cheek. While another held a heavy shoulder. Driving a hard beak deep into Sid's left eye.

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  Sid was not a man of royal class music—and I suppose that was great. Because that bird introduced a brand new sense of distress. Not just absolute pain, but also the shortest, and most horrific orchestra. One that had no right ever being composed.

  A nasty symphony was conducted. Just right there—behind his eye.

  A shallow series of elastic snapping. Different chords and notes. All starting with low toned tearing to high pitched scrapes. All blending with a glorious discomfort of wet ripping somethings. That dull grind of beak against bone vibrated.

  He could feel it in his teeth. Every time that beak dug deeper. Ripping new abrasions into the walls of whatever it was. Like the bird was trying to carve its initials into his head—literally. Before ending it all with a dense snap.

  A solid tug, leaving Sid to grab at his smoldering face while falling. The bird pushed from the large man. Talons tearing a handsome trio of scratches. Leaving him to smash down against his bare bottom. Two fat hands cupped over his hollow eye. All happening in only beats of the heart.

  Abram was completely wide eyed. Never have his eyes been fuller. He looked at Sid groaning on the ground. Then up at the bird climbing above the trees. Now clutched in its talons a single eyeball was smoking—maybe it was the talons who knows honestly.

  “By the golden showers of Tatheliea, Sid are ye alright—” Abram tried with a lending reach. “Arieo pays attention! Hold yer vessel steady buddy we needs to help Sid up for a moment.”

  “Stop! be quiet—I can—I can see us.”

  Sid held his breath while a distant image of memory invaded his sights—no not his eyesight well kind of his eyesight I suppose it was his eye.

  But the vision came to him like imagination distant in the back of his mind. Like he was thinking it all unwillingly.

  It was true though. Up above he could see them. Arieo and the wagon too. Fenrir was still hiding underneath—clever boy rather enjoyed his eyes.

  But yes, he could still somehow see. Even up there. In-between those beating wings. He could see. What he seen was the castle.

  A grand castle with incredible yards. Guarding the courtyard perimeters and all its belongings, there was a tall black metal fence.

  Long twisted iron rods with a sharp golden spade at their tops. Iron bent with the shape of fancy swirls and linking design, curls in their swoops had been fashioned. It was a marvelous work. Something he could really appreciate with a better look. All those swooping patterns looked like they were beaded between each rod connecting them in a neat row.

  Every so often there was a stout stone pillar, keeping the fence stable and upright. Placed on top of every other pillar was either a small bronze bowl filled with oil or some sort—the oil would be set ablaze after the sun had set, illuminating the courtyards’ perimeters and its immediate surroundings—which were all doing right now. It was a spectacle from above.

  The pillars that did not have the bronze bowl, had a very polished and precisely cut transparent gem, roughly the size of your hugging arms.

  Each gem hovered hands above its designated platform. Floating and spinning with soft up and down motion. Every one of those floating gems had seven crystals or shards or something. Each must have been cut and polished by the gods themselves because Sid caught the glimmering refracting light even in the sky.

  Small gems they were—whatever they were. Sparkly little things. There were seven of them. Seven smaller gems to the one big floater. Each different in color or at least from what he could see from above: blue, red, green, yellow, purple, black, and magenta. Each hovering around the large gem like they were being withheld in a gravitation pull, softly bouncing, circling endlessly.

  The castle itself had magnificent structure. Tall with many towers and wrapping balconies.

  Some of the rooftops had multiple rows of flags, each with its own vibrant color with a symbol of the Seven.

  He could see a centipede. A cattleman. Something that looked like a demented gnome. The others weren’t recognizable, or it was just too dark.

  Other segments of the castle had long designated walls for crossing and gathering or just overlooking the courtyards below.

  He could see lots of traders, settlers or whomever down there.

  Handful of towers wore a pointed roof with a bronze ball; some had a flat lookout for star gazing and path coordination—or so he assumed—because it looked like many were looking at the sky writing in scrolls.

  Another tower had a massive cauldron looking build on top—this was for collecting rain bringing fresh drinking water throughout the castle.

  Other towers had staircases spiraling along the outside walls that looked dangerous considering there was no guard or handrail for support.

  Rows and rows of windows across large sections of walls glow with warm gold and amber, some with an upward or downward pattern giving the guest a view of the yards as they climb along.

  They were very close; indeed, Abram was correct, it was just over this hill. However, it was not just a simple walk through a field of grain.

  Another beat of the wing, the raven was flying over top. The castle was huge. Insane actually. He’d never been, but he’s heard stories—he just never imagined to be so massive.

  There was even a long and wide courtyard filled with neatly trimmed spiraling hedges. Round lush bushes freckled with multiple-colored flowers. Stone carved benches thoughtfully placed, fantastic, marbled gazebos and statues of magnificent beasts and forgotten creatures.

  In the center of the yard was a pond with clear flat water. Water so clear it looked like a patch of the starry night sky down there. In the middle of that pond was a small island of pebbles. Upon the island, standing on the rocks overlooking the pond and its surrounding courtyards, was a glorious statue of a—a something—it looked like horse, but not at all like a horse.

  It was similar to a horse in its size and build. Completely different all together in the same too.

  The statue had a large, gnarled root-like horn attached to its head, much like that of a unicorn. However, unlike either of them, this statue also has short tusks, like the wild boar.

  Its face was very similar to a stallion, practically one in the same—except for the long trumpeting nose. What an odd nose it was too, like a mammoth.

  Hair is rather difficult in statues—but this had no flowing detail for such. Instead looked to be a thick plating around their shoulders and neck. Stretching down their long back, armoring their hind quarters. What was this odd statue inspired of?

  The bird flew clear across the valley. Over dark rivers of water. Thickets of timbers and a dense area of what looked to be wetland. Before flying to the next mountainside. One he’d never known or seen.

  His vision rolled seeing stars. Then the dark trees. Then the stars again. His eye was falling now—or so he suspected. It was a long roll that almost caused him to roll himself right down that hillside he sat on.

  “Carefull Sid.” Abram said catching the heavy man the best he can.

  “Shhh.” Sid hushed.

  He continued to watch the tree tops and stars until he was sure his eye landed. The silhouette of a someone blocked the stars before reaching fingers curled around his single sight.

  “What do yas see Sid?”

  “Nothing its gone.”

  Abram could only stare with a rising curiosity. Fenrir stepped from under the wagon attempting to lick Sid’s face.