Chapter 15. Are you sure?
Arieo looked up from the goop that was once a perfect ear, he tried to give it a little flick. My gods he will have to train himself to flick with his left ear now. God’s that felt odd.
“Hee-Haw.” The little mahogany donkey still had charming waggles of the mane though.
“The Bear-King, it be the impossible, we did Arieo, oh-ho we did it buddy!”
Arieo looked at Sid. It was a good and thorough grouse look.
He examined that long black hair in a stupid, stupid braid. Great mustache, but it would be great on him too, that’s just how extraordinary that lip-coat was. Dumb little eyes. How could Sid even see with such little things. Pathetic.
Dull red shirt. Filthy with soot and dirt maybe. Dumb vest would look better on his master. Lousy trousers that needed a drawstring, they too were as filthy as the shirt. Old leather boots he could smell from here. Ugly man-bag on his hip. He was hiding bread in it Arieo could smell it. In a simple summary Sid looked like a mess.
Arieo studied Sid’s weapon of choice. A decent axe he swung with absolutely no grace, and a shitty burnt sword. A sword so shitty the man had to use it as a cane.
Let’s go over that too. The man needed a cane and used the sword. It was quite apparent he was damaged physically. He had a limp and his shoulder clicked. His master might not have heard it but it was annoying.
Also speaking of damaged, the man was grieving. He had lost someone close to him and that doesn’t sound like quest material. Not the stuff they did anyways.
Arieo looked Sid up and down one last time. This jerk who ruined his wonderful ear? This was what they were looking for. It was too simple. And to put things blunt, Sid just didn’t really look the part. Hell, he didn’t even fit the part.
Arieo looked at his master, it was a full eyed look that said.
“Are you sure it’s what we need?”
Sid’s eyes gripped tightly as he try to shake the screams echoing in his mind. It had become hundreds of voices now.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Feeling behind his step he leaned against a tree, a cold sweat formed bringing a chill to the torment. Even the collecting of snot trailing his nostrils had a haunting touch. His breathing shudder with a short breath and he hacked up something black and foul. There was an internal pulse of fear that came with that wad of something.
The grass around that spitting hiss while it yellowed and limped.
His head throbbed. And he dug his thumbs into his eyes—horrible method for relief but it worked for him, kind of—the screaming behind the veil was too intense and Sid ran.
“Sid wait!” Abram yelp.
“Shit, god’s damn it. C’mon Arieo lets go.” The manic mariner started for Sid but turned when he didn’t recognize the sound of a rickety old wagon wheel.
“Arieo c’mon lemme see that speed wagon roll!” He shouted.
Arieo couldn’t see his master out there in the dark. Come back here. Put another log on the fire, it’s cold. Fuck Sid that guy sucks anyways.
It wasn’t just dark either, it was a thick and heavy darkness. It was a darkness one’s eyes just don’t adjust with too.
Other than the dancing purples and great silver disc up there the sky was black and Abram could only see so far into the path.
There was no way in hell Arieo would be chasing that fat loon in the dark.
He flicked an ear and gave a sassy tail swish. Not only that but the sick bastard ruined his ear.
Now Arieo wasn’t no coward, he just liked to know what he was up against. He and his master have been tampering with the game, spoiling divinations, and collecting relics for quite some time now. But never had he ever seen something like this. Arieo blinked those beautiful browns, still reflecting that warm fire glow. Even with a missing ear that little donkey held a charming aura.
“Gah! I be the captain Arieo!” Abram argued.
Arieo the brat simply glanced behind his curvy hindquarters, blinking at the wagon. More so the shafts and tracers he was hitched to.
“Oh-ho-ho that be a low blow buddy.” Abram barked with a laugh.
The donkey had a point though. He was leading the wagon. That vessel wasn’t moving unless he wanted it too.
“Just ye wait until we finds me bottle.” That smile was as course as sea salt, his tone though is what centered Arieo.
“Alright buddy, but tomorrow we be heading straight for Stallitusk. That man Sid, he still be hibernating. And we needs to be theres when he wakes up.”
Grabbing the last of what Sid had chopped earlier, Abram fed the begging flames. He stood and watched the coals glow brighter, and brighter. He liked the way the heat felt against his eyes. There was a clear warmth that came with color--yeah, he was staring into a fire, but still there was something about it.
“Sorry about yer ear buddy. It do be lookin mighty tough though.”
Arieo had fallen asleep without compliment.
Abram didn’t blame him either, it had been an exciting night for his little pal. He fear sleep would be lurking in one of these trees as well, and the thought of that internal chill of blindness washed him thoroughly.
He could fight the sleep only for so long, that peak performance effect from the shard always had a hard crashing downfall; it didn’t have too though. And with the trading of his aura for such effects, Abram would never surpass that one and only shiny silver star he had come to be so proud of—the Seven were tricky with manipulation like that.

