Chapter 6

The town of Greenby had a main thoroughfare that crossed through the center of town. The road was well-traveled, being located at a midpoint between the large city of Bolanda in the north and the capital, Nayen Harbor, in the south.

Murinsbad is a country located on the southern continent of Ghaen. Its monarchy rules from the southern city of Nayen Harbor, which lies along the Lispian Sea. The capital city is also the largest trading port on the continent and is home to over half a million people.

Multiple overland trade routes also move around the country from there. Most of the merchants heading north stop in Greenby. Because of this fortuitous location along the north-south trade route, due to the trade route and its frequent travelers, the town has multiple lodging establishments as well as a large market.

The market and the town's strategic location allow farmers and other local commodity providers to have a steady patronage for their goods. It also provides access to rare and difficult-to-obtain items such as: Herbs, cheeses, clothing, fabric, etc.

Lennard's clinic sits one block west of the main road, and the Poldare lumber mill is three blocks east. The twins are the woodcutters for the area, so they always have scrap wood on hand. They not only supply firewood for families during the winter, but they create timber for construction.

The city extends a total of eight blocks in all four directions, creating a square. Fifteen-foot walls surround the town, but the gates are usually unmanned. Each gate points towards one of the cardinal directions.

Past the walls, small patches of trees dot the surrounding farmland, where houses are located. The exception is to the northwest, where a large forest still grows and extends down almost to the walls, and farther to the west, where a large mountain range sits in the distance.

It was mid-afternoon by the time Harlow left the clinic. The early autumn day was still warm, and the sun was high in the sky. A few clouds hovered over the mountains to the west, making Harlow think there would be a spectacular sunset tonight.

The elixir of vitality he had drunk left him feeling completely energized, to the point of being jittery. He needed to expend some energy, so he sprinted off down the road to his house. Normally it would take him almost an hour to walk the distance, but he felt like he could sprint the entire way at the moment.

The rhythmical thump, thump, thump of his feet hitting the packed earth of the street brought his mind to a state of trance. He had experienced this state of mind before, and used the self-hypnotic trance frequently.

In this state, he was able to place his body on autopilot while simultaneously running over the day's events in his mind.

"What a day it has been!" he thought to himself. "First spending hours trying to hide in a corner of Granny's house so as not to have to watch her die."

Images of her flashed before his mind's eye. She was always so nice to him, giving him candy whenever they met. Then the images morphed into her lying on her bed at the end of her life. The shallow, ragged breaths pounded in his ears.

He felt his breathing become disrupted and focused again on his body. He was still running, but his breath was off. He had a pinch in his chest and side. Tears rolled out of his eyes, and he sobbed for the loss of the kindly old woman once again.

He slowed his pace at this point, realizing he was leaving the gates of the town and would need to begin telling people of the pyre happening tonight. He jogged forward down the hard-packed road. He couldn't count how many times he had taken this road in his short life, but today felt a little different.

The pain in his side receded, and the rhythm of his jogging returned. His first stop was only a few hundred yards from the gates. He angled slightly to his left in order to stop at the Mannather house.

He plodded up the walkway and stopped at the front door. He panted and took a moment to catch his breath before knocking on the large wooden door. It seemed his energy didn't last as long as he thought it would.

He felt like he should have been able to run this distance with little effort. He contemplated the issue, wondering if the problem was due to the potion, or merely the toll taken by the happenings of the day.

Mrs. Mannather swung open the door and greeted Harlow after only a few moments. "Hello, Harlow," she said. "What can I do for you today? Does Mr. Haramin need some more alue?"

The question took Harlow by surprise, and he stammered, "No, uh, maybe, but no. I'm here to let you know that Mrs. Elennesta passed on this morning, and her pyre will be tonight."

A look of shock then sadness passed over the soft, round face of Mrs. Mannather. She had a mottled fur coloration, but mostly dark brown in the face. Her lighter brown eyebrows therefore stood out and highlighted every emotion she experienced.

"Oh, no," she said. "That's terrible news. I'm so sorry to hear that. Everyone knew it was coming, but still, to hear she actually died…" She trailed off for a moment. Her eyebrows then scrunched up in the middle and she asked, "Okay, Harlow, what can I do to help?"

Harlow was only told to tell people the news, he didn't have specific instructions for everyone. He looked at her with confused eyes, his head tilted. "I don't really know, ma'am. I was only told to let people know the news. Nothing beyond that."

"Gotcha. So who told you to go tell people?" Mrs. Mannather asked.

"Well… It was Mr. Haramin, ma'am, but I think the Mayor was the one who told him, and the Mayor is supposed to be organizing it." Harlow responded.

"That sounds about right. I'll go find Mr. Ansong then. Thank you, Harlow. You go on ahead and let the other folks know. I'll get my family rounded up and head to town."

Harlow made a small bow from his neck, then turned around and ran off.

"He's different," she said to the air as she watched Harlow leave. "Did his father perform The Bonding on him?" She was surprised that the drunk cared enough about the boy to do it. She was even more surprised that he had stayed sober long enough to do so!

It was only a short jog to the next house, where the conversation with Mr. Jonom went much the same as it did with Mrs. Mannather. Harlow had never actually been to the Jonom house, and was surprised at how much bigger it was in person than it looked from the road.

His next stop would be his own house, unless he ran into someone along the road. Which he did. He stopped when he found Mr. Gali and his son Bentra riding into town with a cart of vegetables to sell.

These two were more shocked than the other families had been. They had been busy on their farm for the last week gathering their harvest. Mrs. Gali and the two daughters were off in the town of Malanton visiting her mother, which was a day's ride to the south. They hadn't known of Granny's failing health at all, so to hear that she had died was a bit overwhelming.

Harlow watched as Mr. Gali and his son Bentra rode away from him, headed into town. Mr. Gali had assured Harlow that he would contact his wife and daughters as soon as he returned home, but they wouldn't be able to make it back in time for the pyre.

As they rode off, Harlow could hear Bentra sobbing into his father's arm. He realized just how much Granny had meant to the people of Greenby. Her life had touched everyone, and her death would leave a lasting hurt.

Harlow began jogging towards his house again, letting his body take over the running as his brain processed what had just happened. Two things quickly struck him as different about Bentra. He had always considered him to be a friend, or at least an equal, someone he could have fun playing with. But when he saw Bentra's reaction to the news and then heard him sobbing, he no longer saw him as an equal. Instead, he viewed him more as a child.

Harlow had cried into Mr. Haramin's chest earlier that day, but now he felt more like an adult, someone who was capable of handling his emotions. But Bentra, who was the same age as Harlow, was clearly still a child.

Harlow wasn't sure what to make of this. He had always thought of himself and Bentra as being on the same level, but now he was starting to wonder if that was really the case. Maybe Bentra was still a child, even though he was the same age as Harlow. Did The Bonding really change that much about a person?

The second thing which occurred to him was the way he had been treated by the adults he had seen today. They had not talked down to him. They questioned him, but not his legitimacy or motive, but took what he said as truth and acted accordingly.

He surmised the bonding must actually change a person in a noticeable way. It was the only thing of significance which had changed in his life. So instead of re-living the morning's memories with Granny again, he focused on the time in the tub and The Bonding.

The image of Lennard filled Harlow's mind's eye. He felt as if he could still smell the sweetness of the soap, the earthiness of the plants, and most alluring of all, Lennard's musky aroma.

The entire experience replayed in his memories. Details he had overlooked in the moment revealed themselves now as he watched almost as a third-person observer. Subtle twitches on Lennard's face and movements he hadn't noticed before told him that Lennard was seriously contemplating his actions.

Words and phrases came to him. Things he should have asked. Words he should have said. In the moment, he didn't have the mental faculties. He was already emotionally exhausted from watching Granny die.

Harlow remembered Lennard saying that his father couldn't do the bonding, but wasn't the entire process just Lennard running his hand down his tail? He must have missed something. The feelings were too intense to notice everything as they were happening.

Harlow focused on the moment. The memory was cloudy with emotions, but then a whispered set of words said by Lennard tickled his brain. He focused on the sound, allowing the rest of the memory to play slowly in the background.

"I give of myself the bond of love," Lennard said. "Let this pup, young of heart, have his soul known. So he may one day share his love with a pup of his own." Harlow could barely make out the first part, but Lennard continued on in what Harlow assumed was another language. The sounds seemed harsh yet flowed easily together.

The memory went completely out of focus then. He knew this must have been the moment he had lost control of himself and made a mess in the water. The intensity of the sensation blocked out everything else.

The physical sensations of the moment flooded through his mind and into his body, bringing him abruptly out of his trance. The intensity was dulled from what it had been this morning, but not by much. His body ached once again with desire and anticipation.

Underneath it all was the remaining exhaustion. The elixir of vitality suppressed it to an extent, but it threatened to return at any moment leaving him nothing more than a pile of sweat and fur piled in the middle of the road. He stubbornly pushed through the need to rest, leaving it for when he could properly sleep.

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He refocused his brain to the rhythm of his feet and returned to the trance.

"There," he spoke to himself. "A sensation, not from my tail." The feeling was instantaneous, but filled his entire body. He replayed the moment over multiple times. With each repetition, he felt the sensation lessen, as though it were actively trying to hide from him. He couldn't be certain, but it almost felt as if he had discharged a large amount of static electricity. The sharpness and slight pain were covered by the intensity of the pleasurable moment.

So engrossed was he in trying to identify the feeling correctly that Harlow completely forgot about his body. Until he crashed.

The object was waist-high and caused him to tumble feet over head. He landed on the ground with an "oomph," which knocked the air from his lungs, and left him lying on his back.

It took a moment for him to re-orient himself. His eyes saw the blue sky and clouds, his mouth tasted dust, and his head screamed for him to breathe. With a huge inhalation of air, Harlow tried to refill his lungs and began coughing and spitting out the dust.

Minutes passed as he gasped, coughed, spat, and repeated. He was finally able to cough up enough of the dust to be able to get a full breath. He panted, tongue out and facing the ground. He had been smart enough to get on all fours while expectorating. A wet pile of gelatinous phlegm now covered the ground below his mouth.

"That was less than pleasant," he croaked. His parched throat protested and threatened to make him cough more with each syllable.

"Maybe you should pay more attention to where you're running to," a gruff familiar voice responded from behind.

Harlow couldn’t believe that Brodil was here and alert enough to speak to him so calmly. He slowly turned his head around to see…

His house, sitting in the dust bowl which was his yard.

The voice of his father had been nothing but a production of his mind.

“Oh great, I’m hallucinating now.” Harlow thought to himself. He carefully got to his feet and checked the wooden fence for damage. If it was broken, he would take the blame for it and be punished for it somehow, but the fence was still intact.

He had twisted his ankle in the fall though, and each step caused a sharp stabbing pain that radiated up his leg.

Harlow limped towards his house, hoping that his father hadn't found his stash again. He had hidden several sprigs of wanetta and a few other herbs that could be used to treat minor pains and injuries in one of his books.

He had bought the herbs for just such occasions, but unfortunately, they were also often used to get high. This meant that his father would want them. Harlow had never used them for anything other than their medicinal purpose, but his father was definitely a fan of their other properties.

The door creaked open on its rusty hinges, and Harlow stepped inside, calling out, "Brodil, are you here?"

There was no answer. Harlow knew better than to assume the house was empty though, so he stood for a moment and allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He looked around the entry room first, but saw no one.

He made his way to his father's room and pulled back the curtain. The bare mattress lay empty, the floor covered in bottles and debris, as usual. A sigh of relief escaped his lips.

A few more painful steps brought him to his own room. He pushed through the curtain and entered. His room had been trashed. His father had obviously been looking for anything hidden there. His straw mattress lay sideways on the floor, blankets strewn about. His books had been unceremoniously thrown in different directions around the room. His clothing chest sat upside down and empty, his clothes scattered.

Harlow didn't own much, but the few things he treasured he kept here. Now, like it had been several times before, his things had been thrown around like trash. Silent anger built in Harlow's chest. His father had no respect for him whatsoever. He treated him like the garbage that piled up in his own bedroom. He meant nothing to his father.

Harlow simmered with rage, thinking of things he could do in retribution. But unless it were something directly physical, his father would simply ignore him and not care about whatever Harlow had destroyed. Physical things meant nothing to the man. His only interest in life was what could make him forget.

Then it dawned on him. There was one thing his father actually cared about. The pain in his ankle momentarily forgotten and replaced with rage, Harlow turned and moved back to his father's room. He stormed in, ripping down the curtain, and pushed his way through the trash to the table next to his father's bed.

There, on the side table, was the one thing his father loved: a small portrait of his mother. It was a gift from his mother's parents to them on their wedding day. He would often lay there and drink himself to sleep, staring at the painting of his wife.

Harlow had always held a reverence for the portrait, feeling sorry for his father enough to leave it alone. Even through times like these, when his privacy and treasures were invaded. Through the beatings, through the starving, through it all, he felt his father deserved at least a small amount of respect. So he had never come between his father and his mother's portrait.

But the time for that was over. Harlow had a new life and home to go to now. In a fit of rage, Harlow reached out and grabbed the portrait of his mother. His muscles shook with the pent up frustration of years of abuse, but as he held the picture up in front of him, staring at the image of his mother, he realized just how beautiful she had been.

"Respect only goes so far," Harlow growled through his clenched jaw. "I am finished respecting you. I am taking my things and leaving, and I am claiming this as mine!"

He turned and left the room, kicking the bottles and trash with as much force as his injured ankle would allow.

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With Harlow gone on his way, Lennard took a few moments to relieve himself and freshen up. The vision they had just shared left him with many more questions, but they agreed those questions would have to wait until later.

He and Harlow both held a sense of responsibility and put the needs of others before their own. This was a quality which had spoken to Lennard when he decided to keep Harlow on as an apprentice.

Those days seemed so long ago now. He felt odd having these feelings for the young boy who he had all but raised over the last couple years. Lennard questioned how life and fate worked in such indiscernible ways. These thoughts held no answers though, and were a mere distraction from what Lennard had agreed to do.

Lennard placed the memory to the back of his mind, gathered some coins, and stepped out into the afternoon sun. The warmth of the early autumn day warmed his still damp fur as he began his afternoon's journey.

As he stepped from the doorway, another thought came to him. "Did I really just invite him to live with me?" He scolded himself and shook his head. There was only one bedroom in his house. "I guess it's fortuitous that I am on my way to see the twins, it seems I'll be adding a second bedroom."

He passed through the block using an alleyway between two hotels along the main street. The Hard Roc and The Troll's Treasure Trail. Neither of which he cared to visit often. When he was in the mood to get drunk and frolic, he went to The Soft Underside.

The patrons at "The Soft Underside" were generally local and less boisterous. Plus, as its name implies, the tavern catered more to the Canurid race, and tail play was allowed. A couple of vague memories flashed rapidly through his mind. Times he had lost himself with one person or another there. "Good times," he spoke aloud.

The Main Road was almost always a soggy wet mess due to the frequent merchant traffic that passed by. This left Lennard with two options. The first was to walk down to the gate where he could cross using the elevated walkway. Or he could pull up his robe and slog through the muck as most people did.

Having just bathed, the idea of getting his paws all muddy was extremely off-putting. He looked down the three blocks to the wall and sighed. "So I either add an extra five or so blocks to my walk, or I get some mud on my paws." He wasn't a fan of walking in general, but knew that at his age and weight, the walk would do him good.

So he pulled up his robe and slopped into the mud. "I should be getting a good workout with Harlow tonight. No need to add steps now," he thought mischievously to himself and smiled widely as he treaded his way across the muddy thoroughfare.

As he arrived at the lumber mill's gate, Lennard was greeted by Mika, the younger sister of the Poldare twins. "Hello, Lennard," she said. "What brings you here today?"

"Well, hello, Mika," Lennard said. "You're looking well. I'm here to talk to both you and your brothers. Are they around?"

Mika was a very close age to Harlow. She stood slightly shorter than his apprentice, and her fur was a golden shade of brown. Lennard had a vision of the two of them together, and he could see how they would have made a good-looking couple. The thought saddened him, but he knew it was too late to go down that path now.

Mika told Lennard that her brothers were home and led him to the mill. The Poldare compound was made up of a large two-story house. The twins often worked on it as practice for their customer's construction projects, so the house had a constant unfinished look to it.

The house sat near the wall, with only a small strip of grass in between. The main lumber mill was at the forefront. It dominated the space. The large three-part building stood tall, made completely of wood.

Inside the main and only fully enclosed part of the building, the whirring of blades could be heard. The loud buzzing filled the air like a swarm of bees.

To the right of the building, a stable and corral were attached. Several Equinalls were milling about. There were stalls for each of the four beasts along with an open yard where they could move about.

Equinalls were not considered to be the smartest of animals, but they were extremely strong and durable. They stood tall on four hooved legs and had a barrel-chested build. Their heads extended on a longish neck and came to a point where their mouth resided. Large eyes rested upon each side of the elongated head, and a sort of mane fell down from the neck, matching the long hair of the animal's tail.

Another large warehouse building stood open like a large lean-to on the other side of the mill. Inside, it held both finished and unfinished wood. The finished wood was stacked neatly along the back wall, while the rest lay ready to be moved inside, where it would be worked.

Several wagons and worktables sat scattered around the remaining space. The large lot was surrounded by a simple wooden fence. The mill occupied one of the largest lots in the city but remained open and inviting.

The only larger lot was the one owned and occupied by the Ailuropoda church, which was located directly across the street to the north. The church campus was surrounded by tall rock walls that looked more likely to keep people away than invite them in. This was in stark contrast to the welcoming look of the Poldare mill.

The Poldare twins, Niko and Neko, were virtually identical physically, and very few people could tell them apart. Lennard happened to be one of those few people, however. He had delivered them as pups, and before he handed them to their parents, who named them, he performed The Welcoming on them and was witness to the touch of magic used to check their internal wellbeing.

The magic of The Welcoming is completely invisible to all but the parents and physician. Lennard, being the initiator, could see the very subtle differences the children had in their fur.

"Neko, good to see you again," Lennard bellowed as he and Mika stepped towards the tall muscular man.

"Old Man Lennard, have you come to check on us again? We're fine," Neko yelled over the roar of the saw.

With a wave of his hand, the glowing rune which provided the air which spun the large saw blade faded, and the sound in the room decreased dramatically.

"Thanks, Neko, I know you guys are always busy, so I appreciate you taking a break for me," Lennard said and gripped Neko's hand. It was calloused and gnarled from hard work. Lennard could easily feel the strength in his friend's grip. "I wish I was here on happier business though."

Niko joined the group only a few moments later. He appeared and walked around the large saw that Neko had just been using. Lennard grabbed Niko's hand in turn. "Well met, Niko," Lennard greeted him.

He proceeded to inform the siblings of Granny's death. "The pyre is going to be held tonight if possible. I was sent by the Mayor to ask for your assistance."

The Poldare brothers' parents had died years ago while gathering a load of lumber. The incident had happened shortly after the twins had come into manhood. They had been attacked by a large beast in the woods. By the time the townsfolk had retrieved their bodies, it was too late for Lennard to help them.

The twins had worked the mill most of their lives, so they stepped up into their parents' role. They kept the family business going and even took on the responsibility of raising their little sister, who had been a toddler at the time.

It was because of their parents' untimely demise that the twins were more than willing to assist in readying the wood for the pyre.

"Don't worry about a thing, Len," Niko said. "And if you see the Mayor, tell him everything will be ready by sundown."

"Thanks, boys," Lennard said, reaching up to scratch their heads which was a much more challenging feat since they were head and shoulders taller than Lennard now.

"Oh, come on, Len, we're not little boys anymore," Neko said with a smile belying his appreciation for the friendly act.

Lennard and Mika stepped out of the door to the mill and began to cross the yard. The twins followed behind to see them off. Mika had gladly accepted her quest from the Mayor. As they reached the gate, she waved back to the three men and started jogging off.

"Thanks, Mika," Lennard yelled after her.

"There is one other thing I wanted to talk to you about, but it can be later. Would you mind stopping by my place when you get a free moment?"

Neko raised his eyebrow and asked, "Your place? Like where you live?"

"Are you finally going to fix that old place up?" Niko added, and they both chuckled.

"Kind of," Lennard explained. "I want to add a bedroom. It will be more efficient and easier for Harlow if he has a place to stay in town." He had actually thought about doing this for a long time, but now he had the motivation to do so.

"Oh yeah, that's a great idea. He needs to get away from his drunk-ass father anyway," Niko said.

"He's the same age as Mika," Neko added and winked at his twin.

Lennard's stomach did a somersault at the innuendo the twins were implying. Harlow would be a good catch for a young woman, since he was already a physician's apprentice. Just yesterday, he would have agreed that the young ones would make a great match. Now, the thought almost sickened him.

"What do you think, old man? Wanna set the two of 'em up?" Niko asked directly.

"Wait, he isn't already bonded, is he?" Neko asked. "Could his dad even do it?"

"Shit. He'll for sure get with a girl before he gets bonded by that guy," Niko added with a chuckle.

"Well, is he?" They spoke in unison, both turning their heads towards Lennard.

Lennard, always taken aback by the way the twins could finish each other's thoughts, spluttered and tripped over his tongue. "Uh, well, I, I'm... I mean, I don't think his father could do it. You guys are correct there." He scratched his head and turned to look down the street. "I had better get going, guys. Thanks again, and stop by anytime."

The twins both looked at him with a bit of confusion. They had known the man all their lives and had never seen him so frustrated or tongue-tied. There was obviously something going on here that they were not privy to.

"Oh, okay, Len. See you later then. We'll drop by in the next couple of days," Niko spoke as Lennard began walking away and waving.

"Thanks." Lennard waved and walked away quickly.

The twins both waved and watched as the obese physician walked away, almost tripping on his robe as he fiddled with the ties.

"There is something going on with Lennard and Harlow," Niko spoke telepathically to Neko.

"Oh yes. Most definitely, brother. Something about The Bonding," Neko responded mentally. "You don't think Harlow has already lost his bond and is going to start chasing the dragon, do you?"

"No, if that were the case, Lennard wouldn't build him a room," Niko replied and started walking towards one of the carts loaded with lumber. Neko left in the other direction to gather more of the unprocessed wood. "It's got to be something involving Lennard as well. Do you think he would do The Bonding on Harlow himself?"

Both contemplated the idea as they worked on separate chores in preparation for the night's pyre. The mental conversation ended with Niko stating, "I think he already did."

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Lennard hurried down the main street market, making his way to one shop in particular before returning to the clinic. The Kinder Tinder was the shop run by Mr. Kinet Minnit, a friend of Lennard's for many years. Lennard considered him one of the few people in town who could rival his knowledge of magical herbs and plants.

As he opened the door, a chime rang out, alerting the store owner of his presence. Lennard saw his friend sitting behind the counter, bundling some long-stemmed herbs and tying them together with twine.

"Ah, Lennard," Mr. Minnit greeted him as he entered. "Tis good to see you, old friend."

"It's good to see you as well, Kinet," Lennard said in greeting.

The Kinder Tinder was a spice shop. Most people stopped here to purchase exotic herbs to flavor their food. Lennard often frequented the shop for this very same reason, but today his needs were for a slightly different ingredient.