Chapter 57

What Worked for Anger does not Work for Suffering

Thrush

40x Blue Marlin

I cut through the world from the dark of deep sea to the bright sunlit deck of Barnacle-eyes’ ketch. A dozen smaller sloops zigzagged westward around us. The fleet sailed unnaturally fast.

Barnacle-eyes manned the helm. Belut stood apart from the goblins. I found him between a giant white tulip flower and an onion as big as me.

“I recognize these waters,” said Belut. He took a big whiff. I followed with a big whiff of my own.

I smelled food. I smelled the colossal garlic and onions that grew on the raised beds of the ketch. I smelled the cooking onion and garlic in the deckhouse. But those smells also came from the goblins. I smelled their abrasive skin which housed veins of blood that stank of garlic. I breathed their breaths of onion that mixed with the fast wind of sea salt. I smelled the slick wet wood of the ships where garlic-sticky goblin hands had landed, or grasped, or pulled, or slapped.

A gurgling thunder rumbled. Goblins looked at the clear sky, and then at my belly. My belly continued rumbling for another few moments. I swallowed one of my human-long blue marlin.

[Nightream Summoning Portal has been activated.]

[World Marker has been placed at your current location.]

I sniffed at the vista of Lavenfauvish offered through the ethereal gash in midair. Hiccup and Abigail were there! They waved.

I chugged a barrel of Anti-gravity ale and stepped through the portal. “Hello.”

Abigail hugged me. My eyes pulsed out of sync and I purred. Erik Skullander and Hiccup greeted me and offered me a seat. I plopped myself down, took a big whiff of Lavenfauvish as they talked, and gave them one word answers. I smelled wet stone, damp leaves, and dying ivies.

Butlers arrived and poured beer for everyone. A 15.5 gallon barrel was wheeled in for me.

“Peat smoked fishbone lager,” Erik said.

Butlers tipped the barrel upright. An illustration of a skull carved in the side of a mountain had been burned into the wood. Butlers pried the cork free. I drank straight from the barrel and rested it on one knee between glugs. Everyone else clinked glasses and drank from their lighter beers.

Colors of smoke and peat filled my eyes. I tasted fish broth and smelled fish oil, fish skin, and fish flesh. It was like I tasted a wounded sea.

“I’ve been waiting for flavor like this!” I said.

Abigail’s smile was half what Erik’s and HIccup’s were.

“Let’s get down to brass tacks,” Hiccup said.

Since our contract had been signed prior to my Merchant Tent Evolution Stone quest, our trade did not count toward the quest. All parties were prepared to continue trading, so I cut through the world to Hawkin’s cabin. Hawkin and I caught up as he gave me his entire inventory of beer to sell. I then returned to Hiccup’s mansion.

Platters of smoked fish were brought out for me. More beer was poured. Butlers lined up to transfer tons of elodon meat that Eileen had hunted.

Almost every butler smelled of fear. I could hear their hearts beat faster when they approached. They lacked breath when they stood before me. Fear was a sharp scent, and it wafted from their stuck tongues and sweating armpits.

When payment in meat was complete, coin followed. I ate until my eyes were nearly charcoal with the color of smoke, and my Satiation had reached 99%. All the while, I unloaded group after group of Hawkin’s ethereal beers from my inventory. One by one, the butlers carted them off.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

“...and so Hawkin and I are trying to figure out how to manage remains from people who visit the mausoleum,” said Abigail. “He doesn’t mind brewing the beer, he just doesn’t want to be there. What do you think, Thrush?”

I chewed on my last bite of smoked fish—just one more bite—and gestured to Abigail that I wanted to finish my food before speaking.

There was suddenly a commotion at the door.

“That’s all right, Riggvelte,” Hiccup said. “If it’s an emergency, let him in.”

Riggvelte bowed, stepped aside, and let the man through.

“What can I do for you, Evon?”

My nostrils were suddenly filled with the scent of anger. Strong, astringent anger. Evon cast his gaze low to the floor by my feet as he crossed the balcony. My ears switched forward. The man’s lungs were frozen stiff. His heart beat rapidly. The muscles in his jaw tightened.

“Apologies for the interruption,” Evon muttered. He then lunged at me.

I stood and let my body take the length of half a shear. Humans screamed. The rusted shear pierced through my heart which clenched the blade like a tight fist. Butlers rushed to my aid but I pushed them back. Hiccup and Abigail were beside me in an instant, but I pushed them back too. Meanwhile, Evon grunted and put all his strength into twisting the blade. His eyes were wild.

Abigail and Hiccup rushed to my aid once more, and I pushed them away once more. Through a mouthful, I said, “Just a second, let me finish chewing.” I chewed while I looked into Evon’s twisted, strained face.

After I gulped, I wiped my lips and peered at Evon. “What are you doing?”

A tear ran down his cheek. He grunted and tried to shake the half shear. Everyone watched in open-mouthed horror.

“You and Hawkin!” Evon growled.

“Vengeance?” Hiccup said.

“You took everything from me!”

My heart beat around the blade of the shear. When I breathed, the hilt bounced. Evon screamed, slung saliva, and tried to twist the blade once more.

“Now what?” I said.

Riggvelte made to move but I shot him a glance. Abigail brought out beers from her inventory and held them by the necks between her knuckles.

“Now what, Evon? You’ve got your revenge. You’ve stabbed me. Now what do we do?” Evon’s visage slackened. His eyes darted between mine. “You’ve taken your anger and you’ve stabbed me,” I prodded. “What’s next?”

“Kill!” he said with renewed vigor.

“Okay. You kill me. Then what?” I sat back down in my chair, dragging Evon to his knees. He maintained his white knuckle grip. “Then what, Evon?” Evon shook with rage. I continued. “I don’t think you know what anger is. I don’t think you know what vengeance is.”

“The Alik family wiped me clean of my quest path! All because of Hawkin!”

“Because Hawkin declined the invitation to the Alik jungle?”

“Die!” Evon attempted to twist the shear blade. He trembled with the effort.

“A creature’s free will has angered you?”

“Creature?”

“Humans are but creatures. …I’ll tell you what real anger is. Have you ever seen your best friend almost die? Have you had to watch your best friend struggle through an injury that you were capable of preventing but weren’t in the right place at the right time? Has fear ever been foreign to you until one day you felt it for the first time when your best friend’s life was in danger?”

Evon’s strength slackened. His eyes opened more.

“You’re angry because someone said no and you were punished,” I continued. “Take it out on the Alik. Tell them how you feel. I know exactly where they are.”

Hiccup, Riggvelte, Erik, and Abigail went wide-eyed.

“You know where the Alik reside?” Erik said.

“Yes. I recognized that jungle the moment I was there.” I regarded Evon. The man closed his eyes. His grip loosened on the hilt and he bowed his head. “You don’t know real anger,” I continued. “And you certainly don’t know what to do with it.”

The smell of wet sadness ran through Evon’s blood. His anger cooled until I could no longer smell that tang. What replaced it was the dank smell of…

Evon let go of the handle of the shear and fell back, sobbing. Everyone rushed in to restrain him. Abigail rushed over to ask if I was all right. Butlers tied his limbs with sewing tape rope. Shouting overlapped shouting. All the while, Evon lay there with his face to the ground. Humans surrounded him in absolute pandemonium, restraining the man’s every limb.

…the dank smell of utter suffering.

My ears switched toward his body. I heard his heartbeat slow to something less than calm. I strode over to his prone, restrained form. He had moments ago been filled with twisted anger. Like water over embers, I had snuffed his anger. All that was left was his wretched suffering. Such creatures these humans were… Without me, restraint would have sheathed Evon’s anger, but why use it after I had killed that anger? Why use it when the human was suffering? Could they not smell these changes? Restraint would not quell suffering like it would cool anger.

“Get off him,” I said.

Butlers looked to Hiccup for advice. I simply shoved them off Evon and tore away his restraints.

“Thrush,” Abigail said.

I crouched and spoke to Evon with private volume. “It would have been a mistake to stab anyone but me. Do you understand that?” Evon’s shoulders trembled with his torment. He was silent as tears flowed from him.