Carefully
Coal cupped the delicate white flower in his left hand and tried to steady the small shears in his right, preparing to cut.
Steady now, easy does it. His right hand was trembling slightly and the shears rattled minutely against the stalk as he squeezed until he heard the snick of the blades cutting through. He lifted the freed flower top and placed it carefully in his herb bag, cinching the strap to hold his prize in place. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to steady the irregular beating of his poor damaged heart.
Not a bad haul, he thought, hefting his battered old leather satchel as he stood and slipped it over his shoulder, slowly so the herbs and the precious white flower didn't get damaged. He started making his way to the edge of the forest and towards home.
He'd been in the forest east of town since daybreak and had collected almost half a bag of green herbs. With the white flower he should get a decent payout from the grumpy old apothecary. With a bit of luck and hard work he might just make rent at the end of the week.
Coal was tired. It had been a long day but honestly he was always tired. He'd been born with a blood weakness. His mum had saved to take him to a physiker but they hadn't been able to help beyond the diagnosis. Nothing ever would, they said. Weak was just the way he was built. And Coal had learned to get by.
He exercised everyday, lifting small rocks in different patterns he'd found in one of his books, meant for Hunters to build strength. Though they would use much heavier weight, naturally. He also ran through a stretching routine from a similar tomb meant for training young Hunters. Anything to try and reinforce his weakened body. And there was a thrill to using the same exercises meant to train the fabled monster Hunters. He'd always harboured a dream of becoming one, if he was honest with himself. Not that that would ever happen.
Coal emerged from the edge of the forest and stopped to take in the view. The forest was up a hill and as he looked west over Hever, his home, the sun was setting, lighting the buildings in a golden red glow.
Hever was a decent size, mostly stone and brick buildings with exposed timber frames, surrounded by a stout wooden wall, 10 feet high. He stood and looked over his home, catching his breath.
As he watched a line of people on horseback emerged from the north gate. They were armed and armoured, carrying swords or muskets, a few with axes or shields slung across their back. He even saw a couple with heavy weapons. Great swords and heavy guns meant to deal colossal damage. A few of the men and woman wore heavy metal plate armour but most had lighter, leather armour. Some had hoods or helmets on, though most had their helmets slung across their saddles with their bedrolls and supplies.
Hunters. Coal just stood and gawked. His childhood dreams of being one of these men and women, these warriors with their weapons and armour, their links that gave them the power to stand up to the monsters of the land, had apparently still not completely vanished. He watched as they road north, disappearing over the rise and towards the rolling hills in the distance. Coal had heard rumours of a dragon nesting over that way. They must be after the mayors reward, Coal thought.
Eventually he broke from his revelry and turned back to the town. He'd mostly caught his breath by now so he started trudging down the grass hill, towards the western gate.
Coal walked through the streets of Hever. It was late, the final dying rays of the sun being replaced by the burning yellow glow of fire as the lamplighters made their rounds. He navigated the streets with the ease of a lifelong resident. Even with his slow careful pace he made it to the town centre easily and headed down to the apothercarys shop, pausing at the door to steady himself, and then he shoved against the heavy wood.
A bell chimed above him as he got the door open and as he entered a stooped, ancient man turned to look at him. The apothercarys shop was small, just a long wooden counter with space to stand in front. No goods on display. Behind the counter was a long wooden cabinet, with doors and hundreds of little draws that housed the shop's wares, the potions and elixirs the Hunters needed for their adventures, as well as simpler things the townsfolk needed when they were sick or injured. There was no physiker in residence in Hever so the only medicine easily available came from here.
Behind the counter sat Mort, the apothercary. Hunched over on his stool in his grubby brown rode, his grizzled face pitted and scared, run through with deep rinkles and folds. Coal didn't know how old he was exactly but he figured the man had to be in his 50s, maybe into his 60s by now. Ancient.
“What d’you want boy, can't you see I'm closing up!” The old man barked in a gruff voice. As far as Coal could see he was just sitting there, not doing anything, but this was a pretty normal greeting from the old man.
Coal didn't say anything, he rarely spoke to anyone. Well except for Charlie. He just walked forward and slung his herb bag off his shoulder, lifting it carefully and placing it on the counter in front of the apothecary. He undid the straps and pulled the flap back, presenting his wares.
The apthercary grumbled as he leant forward in his stool but Coal didn't miss the huff as the old man caught sight of the white flower. He removed this carefully and set it aside, then he removed a scale from beneath the counter and started weighing the green herb.
“Two ounces of herb and… a white flower,” the old man paused to give Coal a side eye, “Nine coppers in all”. He counted out nine coppers on the desk. Coal didn't say anything, just looked at him. More grumbling and the apothecary grudgingly pulled an additional copper from beneath the counter and clicked it on to the wood with finality.
Coal sighed and collected up the coins. He knew it was worth more but he also knew he didn't have any other options. He'd hoped for 15 but he was used to disappointment.
“See you tomorrow lad,” the old man called as Coal shoved his way back out, almost cheerful now he'd successfully ripped him off. Coal sighed. Homeward bound, he thought as he walked off into the night.
“Charlie!” Coal made his way into his small home, ducking beneath the door jam and shoving the old rickety door closed and latching it. He dumped his mostly empty satchel on the table and retrieved the fire starter from the mantle, looking around for his friend. Kneeling down he started a small fire so he could get the lamps lit. Once he had the fire going he lit a stick and stood to walk around the main room and light the two hanging lamps.
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“Where are you, boy?” Coal looked around the room, checking the corners and under the table. There shouldn't have been any way for Charlie to get out but Coal had long suspected he did anyway.
Shrugging, Coal walked over to the battered old wooden chair by the fire and slumped into it, thumping his head against the chair back and letting out a long gusty sigh.
Suddenly something hard and heavy landed in his lap. Coal cracked one eye and looked down at his only friend in this world. “There you are,” Charlie sat in his lap, looking up at Coal with wide black eyes, his grey tongue lolling out of his mouth. Coal reached up and laid his hand on the warm stone of Charlie's back and stroked him, running his hand from the base of his pet's skull to the tip of his long stone tail, just the way Charlie liked it. His friend let out a rumbly growl in satisfaction and burrowed his head into Coals shirt.
Charlie was a gargoyle. Shaped somewhat like a mix between a kitten and a puppy but made entirely of rough grey stone. He was small, with a muscular body like a hunting dog but with a squat, flat face like a cats. He had tiny horns poking out between his pointed ears and little nubs on his back behind the shoulders where Coal hoped he would one day grow wings. A long thin tail that ended in a vaguely circular stone lump that Charlie used like a tool, for breaking open chunks of charcoal so he could eat the shards or for smashing bugs. Coal didn't know how old Charlie was but he was clearly just a baby Gargoyle. And he was totally adorable.
Coal had found him a little over a year ago. He'd been in the alley behind his home, washing up in the rain barrel. It hadn't even been a month since his mum had died unexpectedly of an apoplexy and Coal had been in a bad way. His mum had been his whole life and without her he was struggling to go on. He'd just been going through the motions, feeding himself and washing himself. Spending more and more time just laying in his cot, staring at the ceiling.
Then he'd found Charlie, under the barrel crouched and scared. He'd spent days figuring out Charlie's strange dietary requirements and getting to know him. Once he got his strength back Charlie became playful and happy, he was a little stoney bundle of joy. He brought life back to Coal, gave him a reason to go on without his mother. A reason to live.
Looking down at his friend, Coal said, “How's about some supper, hey boy?” Coal's voice came out dusky and gravelly, unused. Charlie replied in an equally gravelly yip and jumped off Coals lap, bounding over to the small kitchen area in the corner. Coal smiled at his friend's enthusiasm and lifted himself from his chair with a creak, slowly straightening his back like an old man. He grabbed his satchel and moved over to the kitchen. Crouching down with another elderly groan he snatched Charlie's bowl.
After supper Coal sat in the chair by the fire and tried not to think. He’d eaten a simple bowl of gruel, dull and tasteless. Because of his generally weak body he had trouble with food, keeping anything down was difficult, he often grew nauseous when eating and had to battle not to be sick. A few times when he was young he’d been so violently ill he’d actually hurt himself, pulling muscles or putting painful rips in his throat. So he’d learnt to be careful, as in all things. He couldn’t get much nourishment from the simple porridge but at least he could keep it down.
Charlie had eaten leftover charcoal from last night and some bugs Coal had collected from the forest. He particularly enjoyed hard shell varieties like beetles.
Coal sat and watched the flames, keeping his mind blank and trying just to relax. His body ached from his excursions in the forest. Any normal person would have been fine, especially a young man of 17 like him. All he’d done was walk slowly and pick plants. But of course Coal wasn’t normal. He was weak. Near useless. Coal sighed. It was still hard sometimes not to get down on himself. When his mother had been around he could ignore his weakness but not now, now that he was all alone. Now that he had to think how he would provide for himself for the rest of his life. It was hard sometimes not to lose all hope, feeling how fatigued he was from a simple day walking in the forest.
Suddenly there was a crash from outside and Coal sat bolt upright.
“Ow!” Coal's hand went to his neck, he’d pulled a muscle with the sudden movement and a spasm of pain rocked through his head. Charlie had jumped from his lap at the noise and Coal got unsteadily to his feet. He hobbled forward, listening for any noise. The town was relatively safe but monsters did get in, the wall was hardly fool proof. Knowing he was probably being an idiot but unable to stem his growing curiosity, Coal moved towards the door.
“You stay here boy,” Coal looked down at Charlie who was capering along behind him. Charlie looked up at Coal with his big black eyes and yipped again, “Stay.” Coal said as firmly as his tired weak throat was able and the young gargoyle sat, his tingue lolling out of his mouth, and obediently stayed when Coal continued forward.
Coal grasped the old rusted iron latch of the door and started easing the door open slowly, slipping through as soon as there was enough room and pulling it closed again. He moved around the side of the building to where he’d heard the noise, an alley where the rain barrel collected water and a grate took away his waste. It was a reasonable bright night, the moon almost full in the sky and he coud see clearly enough. Only he didn’t see anything, no sign of what could’ve made the crashing noise.
Coal walked down the alley, eyes on the ground. He was looking for a broken tile or chunk of wood. Something that could’ve fallen from a neighbouring building and made the sound he’d heard. He felt a prickle on his neck, some instinct telling him something was watching him. Someone was behind him. He spun, again much too quickly and this time he felt a pop in his knee, some muscle twisting and ripping, and he almost fell.
He got his eyes up just in time to see a shadowy figure, the outline of a person in all black and wearing a hood down over there face, the line of a sharp chin just visible under it, the flash of something silver in their hand as they lunged toward him. A sliver of ice pierced his chest and they were moving past him. He tried to turn, to keep his eyes on the dark figure, despite the flaring of pain in his knee, the joint already swelling, but his body wouldn’t let him. He was suddenly weaker than ever, somehow feeling like he was floating and weightless but at the same time completely untethered. He looked down slowly at his chest, where the icy feeling was spreading, from his heart up to his throat and down to his stomach. There was a dark patch there, a blackness spreading across his tan shirt. He raised his hand with incredible slowness and touched the wet patch, lifting his fingers into the moon's pale light. Red.
It’s blood, I'm bleeding, Coal thought, his mind moving sluggishly, that man, he…. Stabbed me? Coal felt one knee crash to the ground with a thud and then the other hit with a flare of pain that sent stars flashing in his eyes. When the flashing lights subsided he was on his back, looking straight up into the starry sky.
Well, I guess this is it, Coal could feel the blood spreading beneath his body. His breathing was slowing, his eyesight was dimming. He was dying. This isn’t so bad, he thought, his mind strangely clear despite the weakness and pain, life was only going to get harder, it’s probably ok that I just stop here. Coal sighed again, I just wish I could’ve helped Charlie more, I hope he’s ok without me.
Coal heard a shriek, deep and menacing but still filled with unimaginable pain. That didn’t come from me right? Probably just my mind rebelling against the idea of death. It’s ok, mind. For.. the best. The shriek came again and Charlie ignored it, trying to remember this view of the night sky, the millions of bright points in the darkness, this final view of a life that he barely got to live.
Then, in a flash, his vision of the sky was blocked for a brief moment by a massive black shape. Wide, tattered wings and a thin body. A long serpentine tail. The shriek came again and Coal now knew it wasn’t in his own head. Then the thing was gone.
Was that.. A… Dragon? Splash. Something hot and wet crashed against Coals chest like a flaming whip.
“Arggghguuuuh…” Coal screamed pitifully as he was consumed by the flames. It felt like someone had just doused him with burning pitch. He could feel the fire entering his body, burning his skin and organs and surging through his veins as it sought to consume him. Coal could feel as the fire entered his wound, burned it's way down to his poor, shredded heart, searing and raging. Heat ran through his whole body and enveloped his mind. He saw a bright golden light and then he knew no more.