Chapter 52. Wake-Up.

  Skeeter took a completely different path to the same room. A long path up an unusually short, yet long flight of stairs.

  Walking down a corridor of stained glass, he respected each window. He had heard fire-tale about stained glass—blessed colors. Beautiful images that move. All depicting the honored one best moment of nobility—and he was sure to let each one tell its moment.

  Finally watching the final frame Sid wait to be sure it was done. Fenrir was unsure of it all, but he watched too. He liked the pictures—he was just a cautious boy, if something were to happen, he just wanted to be one step ahead—like that shadow there in the corner, see how no light splashes there, if something were to happen he would hide in that corner.

  Stepping around the corner, Sid nearly stepped on Skeeter who was sitting on the floor. Infront of a door. It felt like the right place. The sign was hanging from the single frayed rope. He looked at the sign. Remembering how Scarlett flipped it. He reached up and flipped it.

  As he did this the door swung open. Scarlett peeked into the buckets and scoffed. “These are empty, get to work.” Pushed from the door and back into the room. Climbing up a small ladder, she started hanging a smooth red silk. Then layer one of a pleasing orange. Then another of a satisfying teal.

  “I want a shirt too.” Sid asked while she stepped down, struggling to move the ladder. “You two stay put.” Sid command Fenrir and Skeeter.

  Taking his buckets inside, Sid dropped the juicer and buckets on a table. Negotiating with the seamstress. “You don't need berries or oils, this is only the first step for something you pursue, something greater, Monte had buckets as well—"

  Sid grabbed the ladder, and followed the lady as she listened, directing him where to place the stacking steps.

  “—I don't know if you two assist each other in hunting down that sorcerer Xulu. Tricking folks with your conniving schemes of exchanging services, having one cross paths with a peculiar warrior who has rubies offering to pay a debt—" Sid watched as Scarlet carefully thread a large piece of cloth within a stretching rack. Listening to the man as he continued. "—So let's just assume I got your berries and oils. Pretend those buckets are full. And let’s just say I’ve completed a task for this free eyepatch. And now you want to make me a tunic. A real good one too. Because that dungeon of evil and darkness. I know it must be what you seek.”

  Scarlet calmly looped the last stitching for the stretching. Stepped down. Walked to the table with the buckets and removed the sword.

  “Well done Sidney thank you for these.” Grabbing the two buckets. Upon her hands grasp over the handles, one now heaping with bright juicy berries, and the other sloshing with a fine oil—that isn’t what bothered him though. “The eyepatch is on me though Sidney. I was just—I was just hoping that you would have had further visions in the forest. I was hoping it would leading you to the unexplainable burrows of Marrow Mountain."

  Sid folded the ladder, placing it in a corner while a wild whoosh of rushing air stirred behind.

  “Try this on.” Scarlett barked as Sid turned catching a very inordinate jacket, weaved of multiple colored scaling—Cthulhu maybe? A calico coat consisting of dark midnight blacks. Deathly creamed greens. Pale sickly grey. The coat was a fisherman’s worst dream.

  Fitting into the jacket, the long coat reached his knees. And wavy gripping tentacles, spooled across and down his shoulders. Lifting the hood over his head. There were smaller rows over rows of tentacles. All wiggled over the edge where a hem should be. All dangling just slightly enough. Keeping its wearer a mystery. Now only chin. Three bubbled scars. And a mighty mustache could be seen within that squid-like hood—if you looked closely you could see the glimmer of that taunting yellow stone hiding beyond those slippery tendrils.

  “Look here on the inside.” Scarlett lifted a flap of the jacket revealing a hidden sheath for his blade. “Also watch this.”

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Sid flinched as the sharp edge of his blade was deflected. Scarlett swung the sword at his thigh. Then again at his arm. His other arm. And another just to be sure—really showing off the stars of her craft.

  “Is this good. No, it’s not the shirt you wanted…” She continued to show off its durability and hidden pockets. “…but surely you've never had clothing like mine.”

  The clothes were more than fine. Each item was incredible with it own unique quality. Qualities he has yet to discover. But there was still one thing that bothered him.

  “These are fine, but how did you know my name was Sid.”

  “I know all my customers Sidney, this is for Fenrir as well.” Scarlett handed Sid a delicate white scarf. “Now about that cavern you seen, it is located somewhere within Marrow Mountain, Monte says he knows how to get there, but I don’t trust his judgment or his stupid gang...” Scarlett tapped the left side of her face, pointing at her eye each time. “...You share his vision. Xulu’s. You need to focus. See. Listen. Use your instincts, Sidney.”

  God’s, he hated that name. He wanted to correct her, would it even be worth it. Only watching while she approached and slapped him right on his bare chest.

  Something happened inside Sid during that short second of time. From the instant connection of her hand clapping, to when she quickly removed her hand. Releasing that echoing skin on skin smack.

  What happened was Sid’s vision had become clearer. He tilted his head, now being able to see each fine and tiny thread in the silks above. Widened his eye at the breaking particles of color in Scarlett’s eyes. Sid felt like his sand dial had been flipped. That pain in his hip—it didn't hurt and his shoulders no longer ached. Sid stood straighter than he had in a long time. His whole entire body. Everything about him, he just felt rejuvenated. Like he woke up from the longest nap of all time.

  Turning his head to the other side he listened—not to Scarlett but just to listen. His sound reception. It was definitely enhanced. He could hear the soft patter of—was that mice feet and little squeaks. They were crawling around the gourds with the Nightmares. He could hear them stamping at the rodents.

  Now as we know Sid had an absolute prize winner of a sniffer—damn thing could smell a fart beyond the mountain .Sid’s smell had been heightened in a different matter of speaking. He could really pinpoint the aromas now. Noticing everything from the dank mildew water in Scarlett’s wash buckets, to the spreading infection in snoring Zeke's leg. Not only pinpoint the smell but practically see the best route to such. Literally seeing the scent.

  “What did you do to me?” My oh my. Even his voice. It was heavier. More aggressive. More layered. Carnivorous and predatory.

  Scarlett smiled with a gentle head shake and a cunning bent tooth grin. “Only reminding you dearie.”

  A sixth sense overcame Sid, and he could now feel the anxiety and stress from the pup waiting in the hallway. The rapid beating heart somewhere withing that shadow seemed to be in tune with his own. Sid could nearly hear Fenrir’s thoughts. Emotions—aura? Whatever it was he could feel it. He was now connected with Fenrir through a certain degree of focused and controlled thoughts. Communicating through visionary depictions. It was a primal feeling—if he practiced this it would be very useful.

  Then the rush of a seventh sense. A true and ancient vibration. Prehistoric pulses. Primordial sickness. All wiggled in molesting his minds sensations. All causing him to squeeze his skull with great pressure.

  Intense images and sound flash flood his thoughts as the wilds of nature had been reintroduced to the forgetful walker. A fierce echo of rapacious growling. Each more threatening than the next. Much like the snarl of the bell.

  The strong ruffle of leaves caused many snapping branches as the mighty wind ripped and whistled pushing the treetops from side to side. Then the roaring rush of furious and powerful flowing waters. He could feel the water smashing against the rocks while the currents let out a thundering crash after a long graceful fall.

  Releasing his head as the chaotic noise settled. A new vision came into half his sight, Sid could see the soft dim glow of a fading reddish pink hue covering Scarlett.

  “What’s going on?” Sid asked with a winded breath.

  “You're waking up.” Scarlett answered watching a fat hand wave above her head with a curious motion. “My aura.” She answered a question that did not need to be asked.

  “What?”

  “That pink fog, that is my aura.”

  Abram talked of this aura a few times. He himself didn’t really understand it.

  “What’s the purpose?”

  “It’s a spiritual marking.”

  “Do I have one?” He asked looking for his own.

  “Of course, it’s not a pretty color though.” She lied straight through that bent tooth smile of hers—she couldn’t see his aura. Because if she could, she would have pissed. Sid was casting far more than just a lovely hue of color. It was a spectral-teal if you were suspicious.

  “Why do I see it?” Sid asked, again trying for the soft glow above her head.

  “To help decipher.”

  “Decipher what?”

  The short woman shook her head with a slight curling smile. He didn’t like it.

  “You have been hiding under Minyeara for far too long, listen to your instincts.” Then again slapping a cupped hand over his heart chakra.

  As this happened another wild vision ripped and flashed behind his eyelid, he grabbed his head, nearly squashing the seamstress as he fell to his knees.