The Ashen Disease (Excerpt)

Chapter Two - Reckless as Ever

A whisper echoed in his mind, speaking his name, repeatedly telling him what to do. The pain of even moving stopped him from listening as the mere thought of getting up and out of bed was a dread and a nightmare. A cold hand rested on his shoulder, shaking him softly. Groaning in displeasure, this hand kept interrupting his well-deserved sleep. After he and Saria had to pick up and wash all the apples they spilled over the plaza, his body remained a hot potato unable to get out of its warm oven. Since the wagon had fallen apart to smithereens, they stored the pieces to be used as firewood. Resting on a heated mattress along with the softness of a newly warmed duvet covering his own body heat, now needing to leave at midnight for an unknown reason. Terren was so tired that he thought his legs would fall off at any given moment. Barely able to get any sleep, struggling to keep his eyelids open.

"Ask someone else to pick apples with you." Turning his back on his intruder, wrapping the blanket around himself like a sealed cocoon.

"It's not about those darn apples, Terren. It's a meeting, and the Jarl wants everyone to be there, including you, so come on." Saria proceeded to drag his arm, almost yanking the whole man out of bed. Yelping in surprise as he grabbed himself before she was able to do so.

"I am up, I am up." He mumbled distressed, shoving his now heated but cold torso up to sit. "Why is there a meeting in the middle of night?" Asking as he rubbed sleepy tears from his eyes.

"It's the Blood Kingdom's informant. He is here to announce something for the whole village. So put some clothes on, everyone is waiting for us." Saria said as she threw clothes at him before walking out of his bedroom. Terren took a minute to realize what just happened, mumbling unheard words while dragging the loose shirt over his head. After lazily dragging himself out of bed, he slumped after his female friend into the moonlight, forgetting to even put on shoes.

"I know the vampires are nocturnal, but a heads-up doesn't harm anybody."

Saria left his comment hanging in the air as she placed on Terren's cowboy hat. "Don't forget this, dummy." Before yanking him to the Jarl's longhouse.

"Don't be so negative. Besides, Alten has never received the Blood Kingdom's informant in the flesh. At least not in a hundred years." Saria mumbled. "So have some respect." Pointing at her tripping friend as they arrive at the crowd of people. They were one of the last ones that needed to meet up. No children in sight as they were left to sleep. Candles and lamps aligned by the long log walls were lit, bringing warmth inside the Jarl's longhouse. Muffled mumbling filled the occurring silence. Smells of sweat and bunkmates made their gathering so much more pleasant.

"I suppose this was the last bunch." The Jarl spoke, an average man. Slightly round to be a Jarl, however none seemed to ever question it. His stern eyes scanned the villagers, making sure everyone was gathered. Some people nodded their heads, others answered. A taller man with three variations of brown hair reaching down to his hips walked over to the Jarl's side, nodding kindly and rather "royally" as Terren likes to call it. Hands behind his back, bowing deeply in respect, grateful for having the chance to speak before Alten. His eyes turned to the crowd.

"Thank you, Jarl of Alten and his people. We are grateful for your attendance on such a short notice. We apologize greatly." A bow followed his words. Even if his words were spoken with care, his voice remained strict.

"I, as the Blood Kingdom's informant, have come all this way for a simple reason. The information I bring is crucial for Alten's safety, and for its people."

Mumbling broke out. Terren eyed Saria, she did not remove her gaze from the informant.

"As our appreciation for your cooperation with food delivery to us in the Blood Kingdom over the years, I have to bring the news of-" Terren trailed off as the man began his speech. Fogged eyesight, feeling like a sack of flour dumped on the ground, his ears could not stay attentive. He was quite invisible at the back of the crowd, so none of the visitors seemed to notice him. Instead, he regained focus by looking around. The informant stood on the platform where the Jarl sat in his carefully carved wooden chair. Terren was proud to say he was one of the carvers who made the chair come to life. There were two other people brought along with the informant. Both with long hair, faces covered with hoods. One to the right was dressed wealthy of their status, long blonde hair split down over their chest in curly locks. The other was equal in appearance, however had thicker curls and wider hair. The darkness of their skin made them invisible in the dimmed light.