Yudan’s elder brother had snuck off again. Father had told him to tend the goats while he went to town, but Anatos had continued past the goats, barely even glancing at them. Yudan didn’t like the goats, as they were smelly and annoying, so Yudan didn’t blame Anatos for going off, but their father had given him a job.

Yudan was going to follow Anatos, and see what trouble he got into. Anatos had been going off on his own without telling and reappearing before anyone but Yudan noticed. Yudan and his cousin, Telem, had resolved to follow Anatos last week, but Telem was too loud and annoying and Anatos caught them. He had teased them and pinched Yudan’s cheek when questioned about his absences. Anatos then hadn’t left in a few days, or he had been more cautious to not let Yudan see him. Yudan wouldn’t be caught this time. He was quiet and fast.

Anatos was marching at a rigorous pace, and it was hard to keep up. That wouldn’t stop Yudan. He was elated about a chance as good as this one to catch his brother. Yudan would keep his eyes on Anatos, dashing from the cover of one tree to the next and pausing. Yudan was like a wolf or a lion, hunting its prey. He wondered what he would do when he was revealed. Should he kick his brother? Throw a rock at him? Jump on his back? Maybe he should do all three.

The trees were becoming denser and wilder as Anatos plunged deeper into the wood. The ground was also becoming more and more covered with the dry brown leaves, making it harder for Yudan to quietly move. But Yudan was too skilled to be stopped by a bunch of leaves. He swiftly dodged between the big crunchy piles, making sure to place his step at the places that would be quietest.

Crunch. Yudan frowned and whirled, looking left. There was nothing there, just normal trees and debris from trees. But what had made the noise? It wasn’t him; he knew that much. Could it have been a wolf or a lion? No. No. No. A branch falling. That is what made the noise.

Fear had seeped into Yudan and he was unable to move. He was unable to take his eyes away from the area where the noise came from, desperate to see some movement to gain at least a little insight into explaining the noise. He thought of moving, looking behind the trees, but he didn’t.

Suddenly, one of the leaves shifted and hopped away from Yudan. Relief washed over Yudan as he ran and grabbed the little brown toad from the leaves it blended into. It had so perfectly matched the leaves that Yudan wouldn’t have noticed it without the movement.

Its skin was rough and dry, and it struggled in Yudan’s grasp, trying to squeeze out and hop away. Yudan wouldn’t let it. He was a master toad catcher already.

“You scared me, I thought you were something bigger.”

The toad didn’t respond. It now sat still in his hand, its throat-sac pulse being its only movement. A feigned calmness. He knew as soon as he loosened his grip the toad would jump away. Auntie had told Yudan that toads had magic, and could turn those who harassed them into toads. Yudan hadn’t really believed her, but he did make sure he had a gentle grip. Firm, but gentle.

Yudan looked ahead for Anatos. There was no sign of him. He was simply gone. Yudan looked behind himself. Anatos wasn’t there, either. Oops. Yudan wasn’t lost, he had been all over these woods with his friends, but losing his brother was annoying. Now Yudan couldn’t play a trick on him. He could’ve put the toad down his shirt. That would’ve been funny. Although Anatos might’ve hurt the toad by accident.

Yudan looked down at the toad, its black eyes giving no hint to what it was thinking. It was probably unhappy he had caught it. Most animals liked their own business and avoided people. Yudan stroked its head and back like he might a dog or goat. He hoped it realized he didn’t want to hurt it. Yudan reached his hand back down and held it open for the toad to hop off. It just sat there, content with its new perch. He finally poked it in the butt and it hopped off.

Yudan wondered if he could pick up Anatos’ trail. He would only know if he tried, so he started down. He kept his ears as ready as he could, straining for the sound of steps. There was nothing beyond the normal rustles of leaves and occasional high-pitched bird call. Yudan did this for what felt like an eternity as he continued down the path, but there was no luck. Yudan stamped his foot in frustration.

There was nothing to do but go home. His plans were foiled by a toad. His brother was saved by a toad. Stupid toad. Yudan began making his way past the familiar trees and bushes. Suddenly there was a stick of a peculiar shape underneath a near tree. Yudan seized it quickly. It was no mere stick. It was a sword, of a hero forgotten to time, who had lost it here after a battle with a great dragon. While Yudan had failed to track his brother, this outing was proving to be fruitful in other ways.

Going home was faster now, as Yudan swung his sword around like a grand hero, defeating the evil villains and monsters. Yudan imagined how the king would thank him, and wed him to the princess. He would refuse the offer, of course. Yudan didn’t care about girls that much, he preferred to be a hero that traveled around, saving people who needed saving. From evil spirits to dragons, it did not matter, the hero Yudan would defeat them. He had already been defeated by an evil spirit, Yudan realized with a start. The toad was a spirit in disguise. It had tricked him and ruined his plans. He made up his mind to deliver it vengeance.

Yudan rushed back to find the toad. It wasn’t where he left it, but he wasn’t worried. Toads didn’t move a whole lot and preferred to hide up in dank and dark places. Fiendish spirit. Your tricks will not work on the hero. Yudan began looking in a circle, very carefully pushing through conspicuous piles of leaves, overturning big rocks or older branches. The spirit did not reveal itself. Perhaps it had transformed. There it was. Transformed into a beetle. Yudan was about to grab it when he heard the giggle.

A girl’s giggle. What girl was out here? One of his sisters? Cousins? Perhaps the neighbor girl Mira? Yudan liked Mira. She was always kind and would smile warmly at him. It made his stomach feel weird but in a good way. Yudan began to sneak slowly towards where he thought the giggle came from. Another one came, and Yudan knew he was on the right path.

He dropped to his hands and knees and began to very slowly glide over the leaves and sticks. He kept his stick in his hand but was careful not to put too much pressure on it and snap it. He came upon a clearing, and there was a writhing mass taking up his vision. It took a second to discern, but Yudan realized it was two people. It was Mira, her face was obscured by the other person, but Yudan knew it was her. He also realized he knew the back of that head.

Anatos was on top of Mira and he was pushing their faces together. Kissing. Butterflies fluttered in Yudan. He had never thought of kissing Mira, but now it seemed like the only thing he ever wanted. Yudan focused on Anatos’ hand which snaked its way underneath Mira’s shirt. How disrespectful. Yudan knew men weren’t supposed to do things like that. He looked down at his stick. He could save Mira.

Yudan charged and the both were too engrossed in each other to see it. His sword connected a good stab into Anatos’ back. Not too hard, as Yudan didn’t want to hurt his brother.

“Got you.”

There was a muffled shout and Anatos whipped around and Yudan saw the hate on his face. It didn’t change when Anatos looked at him, realized who he was. Rather Anatos quickly stepped toward Yudan and grabbed him before he could react.

Yudan’s arm surged white-hot with pain. Yudan didn’t process what was happening, only that his face was suddenly in the dewy grass. Anatos yelled something angrily but Yudan did not understand it. He curled into a ball, tightly hugging himself, trying to melt into the earth and be as small as possible. Yudan began crying. It hurt so much. There was more shouting, and Yudan felt a gentle hand on his back.

“Are you okay?” came Mira’s voice, as gentle as her touch.

Yudan was too busy crying to respond, he just shook his head.

“Are you hurt?” her voice was urgent.

“My arm hurts.”

“Can you move it? Try. This is important.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

He tried. A small little move. The pain surged hot again and Yudan cried out.

“I can’t. I can’t. I can’t,” Yudan squealed and he became a mess of tears and snot.

“You fool. You might’ve broken his arm.” Mira was shouting at Anatos.

There was a quiet pause. “Hold his arm still. I will pick him up.”

Yudan felt strong arms lift him into the air, carefully, gently. Yudan, despite himself, cried into the much older boy’s chest. Anatos carried him all the way home. Mother was on Yudan in an instant, asking questions, getting a bed to place him, and sending an elder sister to fetch a healer.

Anatos didn’t speak. Not on the trip, and not when mother berated him. It was only hours later after father had returned, and the healer had made sure that Yudan’s arm would be okay that they thought to ask him what had happened.

Yudan looked at Anatos, the older boy standing grimly in the corner. He looked at his parents expecting faces.

“I fell off a log. Onto my arm.” Yudan hated lying to his parents, but sometimes… Sometimes there were things worth lying about.

“No, you didn’t,” Anatos stepped forward. “I attacked him. After he poked me with a stick. I lost myself and attacked him.” Yudan could see tears in Anatos’ eyes.

Neither father nor mother said something. Finally, their father moved and grabbed Anatos by the arm. He was dragged out of the room. Mother spent the rest of the night fawning over Yudan. His arm wasn’t hurt that bad, she was being ridiculous.

That night, when Yudan was alone in the room, in the bed, did Anatos come into the room. Yudan had been trying to go to sleep and when the teen came into the room and sat on his bed, Yudan sat up. There was a quiet moment as the brothers simply sat next to each other.

“Do you remember the name of the monster you were telling me about? The one that Eracul defeated?” Anatos finally broke the silence.

“Tymerath? Or Mesticoles?”

“The one with the great horn, and three arms.”

“Tymerath.”

“How was Tymerath defeated again? Eracul ran him through with a spear?”

“No. no. That didn’t kill the monster. That simply angered him. Eracul burned him to death with his torch.”

“And Eracul then went home? And had nine children with his wife?”

“Did you even listen to the story? No. The monster’s blood spilled out and blinded Eracul, so he had to go to the Great Witch to be healed. And as Eracul made his way to the witch, he was tricked by an evil spirit, who used the voice of his wife.” Anatos was listening attentively. Good, hopefully, the idiot would remember it this time.

“Eracul, thinking it was his wife, kissed the spirit, who then stole his tongue. Now unable to see or speak, Eracul’s path to the witch was made more difficult, but with help from a kind farmer, he made his way to the Witch. Speaking to her, she said he merely needed to sniff her salts to restore his sight and tongue. Foolishly, he did. The evil spirit revealed itself, having stolen his nose.”

“You are good at telling stories.”

“Don’t interrupt me. We almost made it to the best part. Eracul now lost and alone, was unable to make it to the witch. And the spirit taunted him, visiting him every day, pretending to be his wife, trying to steal his hearing. He wouldn’t have it. Not until one day. Not until one day when the spirit’s taunting grew so great that he lashed out blindly and killed it. Upset he could no longer earn back his senses, he stayed in the town, becoming a useless old man. But one day, when he sat alone thinking, the spirit came back. It apologized and gave back his tongue and nose. The spirit even restored his vision. The spirit asked Eracul if he could find in his heart to forgive it. He asked how it was alive. It didn’t understand. Eracul told it he thought he killed it. The spirit laughed and said after it got the nose it went and smelled every smell it could smell, as well as tried every food it could. It had not seen him since it had left then. Eracul realized with horror that it was his real wife he killed. He threw himself into the sea in despair.”

“A good story.” Anatos leaned in and hugged Yudan.

“I won’t forgive you. Not unless you get me a toy.”

“No apology could ever warrant your forgiveness, but I am sorry anyways.”

“Make sure to remember the story this time. I will ask you about it tomorrow. And that was only the last Eracul story. I will make sure to tell you the others tomorrow as well.”

Anatos laughed. “Very well.” Yudan felt him squeeze tighter.

----------------------------------------

The Knight awoke in the priest’s bed. Not a dream. A memory. He missed his brother, his sisters, his parents, even his cousins, as rowdy as they could be. He missed his wife; he missed his life. He wished so desperately that he could go back to his old life.

The Knight robbed the temple at the edge of the world before he left it. He stole as much food from the stores and any useful trinket he thought might sell for coin, placing them in a brown bag he had also found. Perhaps it was sacrilege, but the priest would not be coming back, and the Knight would need food and money for his journey back whence he came.

There was cruelty to it, he had walked a great journey to get here, only to realize that the place he belonged was where he started. Subtle anger burned at the back of his mind; he was angry at himself for not being angry sooner. Why had he cowed? Ran to the edge of the world intent on giving up on life and walking beyond the horizon. But Elladan had stopped him. He didn’t know how, for he knew the god was dead, but he knew Elladan was there, he knew he was spoken to, even if he didn’t remember the words.

The Knight had been furious when he awoke beyond the stones in the great storm. Rage guided him to a hasty step and he barely noticed the priest as he passed. He even attempted to start his walk back but the storm made it near impossible, washing him back into the temple. There he stripped off his soaked clothing and slept in the priest’s bed. At first, he hadn’t wanted to, but only a few moments on the hard stone surface led him to the warm and comfortable bed.

Sleep had lessened his rage. Bringing serenity and patience, it forced him to plan and think about how he would make it back. He first checked through the rooms of the temple. Beyond the large main room and the priest’s bedroom, there were two other rooms: food storage and general storage. The rooms were mostly empty but their smallness made them feel cramped. There was food thankfully, hardened loaves of bread and dry meats. These would make his journey back much less painful.

His clothes hadn’t dried, but he found a spare set of dull brown robes of the priests in the extra storage. It was uncomfortable to put on, physically, as it was small for him and squeezed his chest, but also spiritually, as he was not a priest. Pretending to be a priest was reprehensible, nearly as bad as pretending to be the gods they worshipped. He decided he would wear his white cloak despite its wetness, hoping to cover the robes at least a little. The next step was to leave.

Setting out was easy, simply one foot in front of the other.

The knight began his journey home.