“War?” Kalos froze in his tracks. The old man turned toward him for the first time since they started patrolling. It was a lumbering, steady motion, but nonetheless startling to behold.

“That’s what ya smell’t,” Barnum said flatly. “And not just war. All the death'n sufferin’ that comes with it... War taints everything like that.”

Barnum’s lips grew taut and wrinkled as sadness seeped through his ancient eyes. He continued walking onward in silence.

Wild thoughts began racing through his mind. He couldn’t bring himself to express anything he was feeling with words. It was like something that’d been hidden away and forgotten had suddenly awakened to haunt him from his past.

Unfamiliar images of violence and fear twisted his thoughts into a jumbled knot like a forceful merging of the two incompatible threads of fact and fiction. He couldn’t tell what was real.

Everything felt like a figment of his imagination, yet he instinctively knew it had been pulled from the darkest parts of his memory. An entire palette of painful scenes rapidly began spreading throughout the canvas of his mind without rhyme or reason.

#

Kalos suddenly came to his senses near an unfamiliar section of the perimeter wall. Thankfully he was still next to Barnum, but surely he hadn’t been lost in his own mind for more than a few minutes?

“See’em?” Barnum’s words startled him.

“What?” He had no idea what the old man was talking about. He was still trying to recover from the odd experience of being completely out of his mind for some indeterminate period of time.

The old man thumped Kalos on top of the head so hard with his bony fingers that the lantern pole nearly fell to the ground from the impact alone.

“Ouch!” he yelped rubbing his head to make the pain go away.

“What was that for?”

“Keep yer wits or you’ll find yer’self shackled behind a slaver’s pony or worse come mornin’ ya dumb squit.”

Barnum’s eyes were full of rebuke over the boy’s mental lapse. By the time Kalos stopped scowling, he could already feel a bump beginning to rise under his hair. Then he saw them. At least twenty torches in various combinations of blue, yellow, and orange danced along the forest’s edge in a straight line. A large caravan had recently stopped to make camp for the night.

Many of the inhabitants were either dismounting or unpacking their bags in random order. The entire caravan was positioned such that the only path leading to the village happened to join the main road right smack in the middle of their wagons like some kind of crude blockade.

Kalos couldn’t tell who they were or why they had come, but they didn’t seem overly concerned about their surroundings since they weren’t wearing armor or weapons of any kind. Everyone seemed tranquil as they moved around at their leisure locking wagon wheels in-place and securing animals for the night.

“The Mercari Fair,” Barnum mumbled as if he knew exactly what Kalos was thinking.

“Time to get back, they don’t much care for visitors this late of an hour.” The old man’s voice was raw and shaky, which meant he was either coming down with a cold or utterly stressed-out about discovering unexpected guests parked right in front of their home. The old man silently backed away like they might jump out of the trees at any moment and attack them from behind when they weren’t looking.

Kalos couldn’t help but watch a little longer before turning to catch up with the old man who was already beginning to fade into the dark as he walked away.

“They’re early this year. I didn’t know they traveled so late in the day, either.”

A simple grunt was all Barnum offered in response. A moment later the old man elaborated, “They don’t. They’re either tryin’ to get away from or to somewhere in a real hurry.” Foggy blue eyes under white-streaked brows briefly glanced back toward the light of the camp with a frown.

Soon they came to a fork in the road thirty paces past the village wall, where they parted ways after Barnum gave Kalos a heavy pat on the shoulder and snatched the torch pole back from him.

“Send my greet’ns to your da. And you get home quick now. No tarryin' about!”

“Of course... You ok?” Kalos wanted to make sure the old man would make it back safely after being so shaken-up by the unexpected discovery.

“Just need to report our findn’s to the council. Get goin, ya hear?” The old man paused long enough to eyeball him one last time before he humored the old man with a quick nod.

After Barnum disappeared, Kalos took a deep breath and gazed up at Rasmont Range to see the very last sliver of twilight before the fullness of night would be taking over. That horrible smell was gone, but it had left a bad taste in his mouth all evening. Dull shards of translucent green light drifted in and out of view through large, gaping holes in the overcast sky above.

“Strange for the Northern Aura to be visible so early in the season,” he muttered, suddenly feeling more superstitious about everything that’s happened. Shaking off his concerns, he decided to head back home at a quicker-than-usual pace after all.

“War,” Barnum’s voice echoed in his ears, again. He felt chaotic images tugging at the edge of his mind, but he quickly fought them back. He definitely didn’t want a repeat of what happened earlier, for there was no telling where his feet might carry him now that he was walking alone.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

#

A small stone house near the east perimeter wall came into view. Through a single window near the front door glowed a soft, welcoming light.

As soon as he stepped inside, a cloud of delicious aromas made his stomach rumble. The entire room smelled as if dinner had been simmering for hours.

The layout of the house consisted of a single story with only two rooms and a large foyer. It was spacious for its size though not particularly fancy, and was built many years earlier to be a sturdy, modest fortification able to survive several decades of corrosion and natural wear. It was always warm and had provided much comfort for many years.

Rafters and wooden beams stretched, fully exposed, between vaulted ceilings with hand carved wood moulding all the way around. The entire frame had been constructed of thick planks from the remains of decommissioned war ships held at the “break yards” in Port Blefcynn long ago. A massive tree capable of crushing several men could fall against such a well-built structure and barely leave a mark.

An oversized stone hearth flickered with a cozy fire that lit the entire house, creating a peaceful atmosphere inside that was completely quiet other than the crackling of burning wood and the bubbling of delicious broth.

Kalos stepped over and stacked another log on the fire before peering hungrily into the pot. The aromatic, dark liquid had a meaty shade of brown that somehow made his gut feel emptier the longer he stared at it.

He took a long spoon hanging from the stone hearth beside the kettle and stirred the contents a few times before hanging it back up. A soft, reddish-orange tint swirled through the soup as meat, green beans, carrots, corn, and various other ingredients lifted into view for a few seconds before sinking once again to the bottom.

Hearing footsteps outside, Kalos turned to watch the front door. A tall, slender man swung the door open and stepped inside wearing a dark, simple, well-crafted leather jerkin, wool pants, and soft leather boots. The man gently latched the door shut behind him and barred it with a thick crossbeam after seeing him by the kettle.

“Ah, Kalos, I wasn’t sure how late you’d be.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, da.” It wasn’t often that his father expressed concern for his well-being even though he always seemed a little overprotective in his own, subtle way.

“I ran into old Barnum and joined him on the watch. Did you know the Mercari Fair just arrived? We spotted them while they were unpacking. He seemed worried for some reason.”

Kalos’ father, Grimm, was a strong, lean man who always seemed to stand a few inches taller than everyone around him. He was an unassuming fellow who preferred to watch what others would do before making any judgments, even if everyone else was already convinced about the nature of things.

Grimm’s wait-and-see attitude usually made him stand-out in a crowd no matter where he was. He refused to do anything at all unless completely necessary, and often discouraged others from the same. Emotional responses were not allowed free rein in his life. Many thought he was too cold as a person, but Kalos respected him all the more for his impassive nature. He knew that he could always count on his father to be there when he needed him most and to never cause trouble for others.

“How unusual... They do normally arrive later in the season.” Grimm’s expression revealed a flicker of intrigue before shifting to an amused smirk. Kalos couldn’t help but wonder about how odd his sense of humor must be to elicit such a response.

“So old Barnum’s all up in arms about the Mercari getting here early? He was never very good with surprises.”

"Yeah, he went to report his findings to the council before he even finished his rounds.” Kalos hadn’t thought much about it, but Grimm’s smirk disappeared completely, making him uneasy.

“That is strange...”

Kalos watched silently for a moment before speaking again, “He sends his greetings by the way.”

Grimm’s voice shifted back to its usual, flat tone. He always spoke with quiet strength, enduring confidence, and a complete lack of emotion.

“We’ll have to visit the Fair early tomorrow, I think. We have a few things to pick up, after all. Care to join me?”

Kalos’ eyes lit up. “For sure! How long will we be there? I know it’s open from dawn ‘til dusk.”

“We’ll just have to see what’s available. Might even visit as many merchants as I can. Could be there all day, perhaps.” Though he was stone-faced most of the time, his true nature always bled through for his son.

Kalos smiled at the thought of spending all day at the fair. He peered through the only window built into the front wall of their stout little house and began thinking about Nava. Surely she would be there, also.

“Hope you’re hungry, we’ve a delicious feast of wild stew waiting for us.” Grimm stepped over to the hearth and grabbed a pair of ornately carved wooden bowls from the mantle as well as two spoons from a wicker basket.

“Starving,” Kalos announced a little more forcefully than intended. Then, as if on cue, his stomach growled out loud, causing Grimm to pause and look his way in surprise.

“Never would’ve guessed.”

The two chuckled as Grimm scooped a hearty serving of stew into each of their bowls. Soon they were seated across from one another at a large wooden table near the fire.

“You never said where you were, earlier,” Grimm gently pried. The firm, fatherly tone he always used when expecting a good answer was obvious despite his best efforts to be casual about it.

“Nava and I went to greet the winds. We didn’t go far and came back as soon as the torches were lit, though.” Kalos was so intently focused on his meal that he didn’t notice when his father stopped eating altogether just to stare at him. Kalos glanced over just in time to see a flash of thoughtfulness in his father’s eyes.

“She’s a nice girl. Beautiful, too.”

Kalos blinked, caught off-guard by a sudden lurch in his stomach and the rushing of blood to his cheeks.

“Well, yeah... But I never really thought about her like that. We grew up together. She’s always been my best friend.” Suddenly he felt very uncomfortable with where the conversation was going.

Grimm simply looked down before scooping another mouthful from his bowl. A moment later, while holding the spoon like a dagger and pointing it straight at Kalos, he warned, “Be careful. Her father’s a jealous man. You wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea about you two.” Grimm took another bit without even looking away as he continued around a mouthful of meat and potatoes, “This village is far too small for such big problems.”

Grimm always referred to Ark as a tiny place even though it was the only home Kalos had ever known. Something about how his father spoke made him curious about where all he’d been, though it never really came up in conversation.

Kalos had traveled to the largest nearby city of Port Blefcynn only twice in his entire life. He remembered seeing a lot of people there, but the village didn’t seem that much smaller by comparison.

“It’s not like that!” Kalos’ heart twisted under the strain of emotions he rarely felt all at once. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

His father pressed him even harder, “Nonetheless, you’ll be married to her in two shakes if he ever suspects any funny business.”

Kalos’ next bite was so close to his tongue that he was already salivating with anticipation. He suddenly gasped in response to what Grimm had said.

Warm liquid and a large chunk of meat splattered back into the bowl from his spoon, splashing broth onto the table. Kalos quickly covered his mouth, trying to clear his throat and prevent spit from showering all over the dinner table as well while he coughed.

Grimm dropped his spoon entirely before letting a deep, breathy chortle roll from his lips that stretched far too long. He didn’t laugh often, but Kalos always remembered when he did, especially since it was usually at his expense.

©2024, K. M. Plum, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED