Gift of Gold (The Year of Churning Bloods) (9 page)

Preston’s complexion eased. “You’re acting like all life isn’t equal. That’s what the Grimlars want you to think.” Preston placed his hands behind his back and slowly swayed on the spot. “No matter what you think, you need to always consider the other choice
              “But we didn’t have a choice!” I insisted stubbornly.
              “
You
didn’t have a choice,” Preston corrected. “I did.” The way in which Preston calmly countered all my points with a little less than a blink was an eerie reminder that this was someone, who unlike myself, had received nearly five years of education in a classroom. I resented him for it.

“Jacob, You need to remember that it was my choice to follow you. You could say that I followed you because survival is more likely with two people. You could say I risked my life for you because I want to survive. But the real reason I did all of that is because we’re a team.”
              “I don’t want to lose you,” I responded weakly.

“Then don’t risk me,” Preston insisted.

I sighed with something close to defeat, and slowly began gathering all my belongings. We wordlessly saddled our bags, before trotting out. Despite the proximity of the river, the plant life around us appeared to be near dead. Remains of the snowstorm appeared present in the higher altitude, where large splotches of the ice remained even despite the sunlight.

“You do know that If we survive we’ll be living together, just like old times?” I asked suddenly.

Preston beamed, although didn’t say anything. Immediately after I had said this though, I had to consider what the Grimlars would think if I came out: Would they assume I had cheated? Would they have any evidence to show I got outside help? Would they connect this to Professor Wenchenberg somehow? Would they be able to prosecute me when even I didn’t know what was happening?

              Everything I had seen so far made me think that that I had become one of the Quenched. I survived against all odds and that truth made me both slightly nauseous and giddy from excitement. How did the soul wind up in my possession? That wasn’t logical. The professor should have sold something as valuable as this, assuming of course it was his to sell. The professor could have drunk it himself, yet he didn’t. Did he not trust himself to survive? If that were the case, why on earth would he give it to me?

              The deep eyes of the dragon gazed at me from just above my line of sight as I thought about all of this.

“You need a name,” I remarked, looking to him for confirmation.

              “Why?” The eyes growled.

I flinched, not expecting to hear a response. “Well... We’re a part of each other now... It seems only natural.” Immediately after I had said this, a thick roar of denial came from the creature, screaming obscenities at me. Instinctively, my hands flew up to my ears, however that didn’t stop the noise in the slightest. After the rage of the creature settled only slightly, he began to address me personally.
              “Listen well. Jacob Ofpacis;
mortal,
” he spat, putting extra emphasis on the last word. “There is little you could do to ever assure me that we are one. Furthermore, there is no reason that a little runt like you should ever name an immortal figure like me.” The deep yellow eyes grew in size for every word until they obscured a large portion of my vision.
              “I thought you said you were dead,” I commented, recovering quickly from the sudden emotional storm. The glare of the eyes deepened. “I am immortal,” he repeated dryly.
              “You need a name either way. Would you like to choose one yourself?”

But the creature wasn’t paying attention anymore. He strayed off into the distance and continued to ignore me. As Preston and I walked together in weary silence, I distracted myself from the intense pains of hunger, by considering names for the creature in my head.

“Vlast was the name of the general who lead the war against the god Dormmtok,” I remarked while looking up.

The eyes deliberately withheld a response, however despite this I could tell that they were listening with great intent.

“Rabotat was the Pilgrim explorer who discovered the kingdom of Zaphris.”

The eyes, although nonspeaking, conveyed dislike for the two names. It seemed obvious I would have to try harder.

“Byknokoter was a famous fighter who used only his fists. Omira was the most famous scholar in the world. Droog was the thief responsible for causing the first ever civil war.”

No, no and no. Every suggestion I made, the creature edged further away. Aggravated, I scratched my head furiously, trying in vain to recall historical figures with neat sounding names.
              “We need to find shelter. It’s getting late,” Preston said while limply gesturing to the sky. The deep yellow eyes faded out of view as I directed all of my attention to Preston. I suddenly became aware that I had spent the last few hours without so much of a word to him. 
 

“
Right,” I responded quietly. Now taking the care to observe the scenery around me, I could see we were in a gentle forest clearing, lightly dusted by a thin layer of powdered snow. The trees that sprang from the earth were neither large enough to sleep beneath, nor small enough to easily uproot. Preston and I tied our tarps together with the help of some nearby twigs, before suspending the apparatus to form a makeshift tent. The final touch was piling bundles of dry leaves on top of and inside the tent to keep us warm for the night.

              “Jacob, What were you mumbling to yourself just then?” Preston asked while dumping an armful of stones alongside the tent.

I cursed silently. Had I been talking aloud? “I was just thinking about some history books I read once,” I responded as truthfully as I could.

Preston stared at me suspiciously. “You don’t know how to read Jacob... Do you...?”

I shuffled my feet uncomfortably, unsure if this was a conversation I wanted to have at the moment. The pause hung for a minute before I eventually conceded and explained my encounters with Professor Wenchenberg to Preston. The story I told felt strange and unrealistic when it left my lips. I told Preston about everything, from the day passes he gave me to the countless hours I spent learning how to read with him. No matter how hard I tried, my story carried none of the warmth the Professor's office and none of my gratitude for simply being noticed and cared for. I finished with a hollow conclusion before waiting to hear what Preston would make of it.

He stared at me for a moment with wide eyes. “I’m aware of Professor Wenchenberg yes,” Preston said with wide eyes. He teaches distortion anti-magic in the school.” Preston shook his head limply. “I never thought he’d have such strong ties with you.”
              “But why though?” I asked, throwing a handful of leaves aside “Why has he taken me in and treated me like this?”

Preston shrugged. “Perhaps he’s human?” he suggested lightly.

I chuckled loudly. “Compared to the other elders I think you may be right.” Clutching my empty side, I slid into the tent and desperately tried to distract myself from hunger. I allowed my mind to stroll beside the deep canyon, reliving the disturbing scene again and again. Preston falling, and the earth;
my earth
stretching out to catch him. “What is my life compared to that of yours Preston?” I was saying once more. “What is my life, and what will it become now that we’re together?”

Chapter
four

             
The Pig and the Prat

             
Long ago a boy lived right here
              Free of mind and discipline.
              Only when I saw he was me,
              I saw he was dead.
 

             
As we
h
uddled t
ogether in silence, I quickly noticed that the leaves did nothing to retain the little warmth in the tent. Through some miracle, Preston had managed to fall asleep and seemed quite content to snore in peaceful silence, while I surveyed the forest with alert eyes. A branch snapped from somewhere off in the distance, causing me to flinch and stiffen all over. It suddenly dawned on me just how visible our tent was. Taking care so as not to wake Preston, I slipped out of the crude shelter and withdrew my sword. Five minutes of expectant silence crept by with only the cold twilight air to keep me company. From somewhere unseen, a deep earthy snort rang out.
              “Pig?” I inquired as my stomach crept into my ears. The thought of succulent pork brought my blood to a boil. I fervently began peering into the trees for any sign of life. Had it been my hunger fooling me? The lack of noise suggested that it was just a delusion, yet I stayed out, listening and clinging to the small sliver of hope that there was something just beyond my line of sight. Something besides the d
ead silence
and the d
ead cold.

              Through a pair of faraway trees, I saw the pig. The silhouette of my prize ham waddled away, quietly grunting as it did so. I began to stalk it, shuffling quickly so as to catch up. Every time it seemed like I was just behind it, the pig would dawdle away, while innocently sniffing here and there. I lost sight of our camp within seconds, however this was of little concern to me. Gliding stealthily across the earth, I was pleased to find that my footsteps were muffled by the powdered snow beneath my feet. I edged along the base of a young spruce and saw the pig, who had stopped to paw at a small bush.
              I swiftly brought my sword down, however the outline of the animal quickly dissolved, causing me to fall headfirst into the cold earth
.
My first insti
nct was that
it
got
away, but
before
I could think of anything more reasonable, I was struck hard in the gut.
With my breath taken out of me
, I f
ell back
and struggled to scramble upright.
In front of me,
stood the largest hog
I had ever seen, nearly twice as large as the
creature I had encountered only seconds ago
.
The beast was covered
with a coat of ugly
black fur which was spotted with dry blood. The smell alone of the creature seemed to wilt the dry air around it with its pungency.
The head was the strangest part however: Three sets of tusks erupt
ed
from various locations on the skull
, making it look like it was wearing a helmet. Its
wide ears were missing large chunks of fl
esh and
were adorned with what looke
d like fat translucent gems
.
I
rolled
to the side just as it prepared to
strike
again. Now several meters away, t
he thing
pawed at the
ground
. A vicious puff of air escaped the nostrils of the boar
and it charged without warning.
I was ready for it this time.

Ducking behind a tree
,
I
brought my sword down with full force. It went straight through the pig before
the entire thing vanished with a flash
. I cursed loudly and maneuvered myself out of the way, just in time for the
beast
to
dash
straight past me.

              “How in the?--” I had hardly time to finish this thought before three of the hogs materialized just in front of me and charged. My sword struck all three of the pigs, two of which disappeared with a bright flash of light. The sword that made contact with the last one only scratched it, but didn’t stop its advance. A rupture in my sides caused me to double over in pain and cup blood in my hands. I could see very clearly where the pig had impaled me and was crippled by the sudden lack of air in my lungs.

              Struggling to take a breath, I fell against a tree trembling. My mouth fell agape as I struggled to scream. From afar, I saw the creature preparing to strike me for the last time. The same unfamiliar heat flushed into my arms, inflating them with the pure fear from before. Exhausted beyond measure, in body, mind and blood; I fell to my left with only cold fundamental instincts left to control me. The mammoth pig struck the trunk of the tree, missing me by only a hair, and churning the leaves on the branches like they were caught in a vicious storm.