THE LIGHT OF A'LEST

CHAPTER 4

     "Shut up!" Zander yelled. "Shut up, you blasted creature!" Rolling in the thinly laid straw, he did his best to find some shreds of comfort on the hard wooden slates of his bed. Gus, however, had other plans. Zander could hear him thrashing about in his enclosure, braying in near panic. Zander rolled over again and rubbed his eye with his index finger and thumb. "He hates me. He is an evil donkey. A true descendant of Nedal," he groaned. "A'lest's curse on whichever of my kin first laid eyes on that infernal donkey." As Zander's waking thoughts ran their course, his mind wandered from Gus's fit to the conversation he had had with his grandmother. He still didn't know what to make of her "clear" moments, but it was obvious she was concerned for him. He didn't quite understand why she had taken such a disliking to him spending time on the western cliffs. This was nothing new; he had been doing the same thing since his father's disappearance. Strange, he'd never thought of it like that until now, but that was exactly when he had begun spending day after day up there.

     "I'm up. I'm up," he roared, standing and placing one arm on the side of the bed to steady himself and scratching at his back. "Must be nice to be old," he grumbled. His grandmother, no doubt, was still asleep. The old crone could sleep through the breaking of the world. He could hear the steady rise and fall of her faint, slightly ragged breath through the thin wooden door across from his. Reaching for his least-soiled smock and slipping it over his head, he begrudgingly placed his bare feet into his dirt-encrusted excuses for boots and made for the door. As it swept open, the tiny hairs on his arms rose, and the chill that washed over his skin stole any remaining hope he had of returning to sleep. Gus's lodgings were no great shakes. The small wooden shack barely kept the wind out. The sod covering the roof wept even during the driest seasons, and the door always needed fixing. Reaching for the iron lamp that hung just outside the pen's entrance, he struck a match and lit its wick. As the light erupted into existence, Gus's tantrum grew to a glorious crescendo and then went quiet. Unfastening the latch, Zander raised his lantern.

     Gus's brown, seed-like eyes narrowed as they adjusted to the sudden appearance of the light. Zander's eyes wandered from the beast and sought out the hidden places behind him. No unwanted creatures stirred in the corners. No bats nested above his head. Gus took a few steps forward, his big, brown, dumb head and his pointy ears both down. "Easy boy, easy." Holding the light closer to him, Zander examined Gus closely. "Easy," he said, dragging the word out until it sounded more like a plea than a command. Timidly he placed a hand on Gus's snout as he finished. He raised an eyebrow as his hand brushed gently over the coarse hair of Gus's snout. "Huh."

     Never had Gus seemed so tame. So willing to endure his affections. "Have a bad dream, boy? It's okay. It's over now." Gus's head rose slightly, and for a moment their eyes met in something resembling an understanding. Perhaps the animal could sense he was in mourning. A rare moment of sympathy, from an otherwise bitter enemy. Maybe the old donkey wasn't so bad after all. Zander banished the thought, as Gus snickered and waved his head to the far corner of his pen. He raised the lamp higher, peering deeper into the dark recesses of his pen. In a flash of movement, the lamp's light was gone. His breath left him in a single whoosh. As his brain struggled to understand what was happening, he could just make out the outline of Gus's dull teeth chomping down hard on his hand. As the searing pain shot up his arm, there was a sudden thump, and his feet left the ground. He rolled end over end several times before finally coming to rest. 

     He lay there groaning; a foul stench assaulted his nose. He would have screamed if he could. Instead, he gritted his teeth and did his best to endure the waves of pain emanating from his crushed fingers. As the pain began to subside, another equally encompassing feeling replaced it: hatred. Opening his eyes, he searched for his quarry. He did not have to look far. Standing not twenty feet from him was Gus. The sad, scared donkey from before was gone. The beast's head was raised high, and Zander swore if he did not know any better, the animal was smiling. Leaping from the ground, he lunged at the beast. Gus seemed to have anticipated this; in a single heartbeat, he turned and began bounding up the hill towards the cliffs, gleefully braying the whole way. "I will kill him. Inheritance or not, I will. I swear it. No more fields for you, Gus. You will get your wish, you beast. Tomorrow, I am signing you up for every birthday party in Tia." Zander's mind feasted at the thought of a dozen eager-eyed children whacking Gus, trying to get the candy out. "I swear it, on A'lest's holy light. This is the final straw, my friend."

     Cresting the cliff face, the exhaustion he would have normally felt became kindling for his roiling anger. Much to his surprise, just under the sentry's tower stood Gus. Approaching slowly, he was careful to conceal this anger; the last thing he needed right now was Gus taking off again. Nearing the animal, he raised his hand and clasped the braided leather reins. Gus reared as soon as he felt the pressure and released a horrible shrieking bray. Zander instinctively clenched but the abnormally slick reins still slipped from his grasp. Staring at the crimson smear they left behind, he froze and looked up. 

     Blood rained from every corner of the once familiar structure. It leaked between the wooden slats of the floorboards, staining the underside in small circles before pattering off in an eerie procession. Drip...drip...drip. His eyes swung to the ladder. A thick coat of blood covered the thin wooden rungs and ponded where its legs met the ground. Holding his breath, he lowered himself to a crouch and stopped, allowing only the tiniest of breaths to escape his lungs, as he searched the area for danger. A pregnant silence seemed to encroach from all sides. The frantic thrumming of his heart built as he knelt silently in the shadow of the tower. Gus lowered his head and looked at him before timidly nibbling at a tiny outcrop of mean-looking grass. Zander chanced a deep breath and did his best to stifle the trembling of his hand before he rose and methodically tied Gus's reins to one of the legs of the sentry's post. Glancing up to the darkness above, he placed one hand on the blood-slick rungs and began to climb.

     Maybe an animal attacked him, or he's injured himself somehow? Climbing higher he stopped. The entire structure creaked and whined. He was nearly halfway up when he noticed the wood was charred an unnatural black. The smell of ozone mixed with something bitter filled the air. Was it lightning? That very well could be the case. He had seen the tower struck on rare occasion. Reaching for the final rung, he slowly peered in. A single pitch-black form lay slumped and unmoving within. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the skin around the guard's face. It lay slack, barely hanging on. The man's teeth were chipped in places, revealing tiny patches of jagged white, and fresh blood traced the outline of nearly every one. He had the look of a man who had died suddenly, his face locked in a perpetual grimace as it gazed rather reluctantly at the enormous hole in his guts. The blackened wood of the other side of the guard shack was clearly visible through his wound.

     The rest of his body was torn. His head, arms, and legs all bore huge gashes. Wells of blood streamed from his wounds, and sprays of it were clearly visible on what remained of the structure. His sword lay between what was left of his legs, bent at sharp angles and at different points. It resembled a lightning bolt. But whatever killed him was not lightning. As he climbed in to get a closer look at the man, the smell of rent smoldering flesh overwhelmed his senses. The sour taste of bile rose in his throat as a frightful thought consumed him. Appy! A surge of panic crept over him as he realized whatever did this might still be around. He had to warn her. Taking one last look at the mangled mess of a man, he turned to leave. That was when he saw them...Two, what looked like people, sat close together, about a stone's throw away. Both had their legs dangling over the edge of the cliffs, and one of them was pointing up to the star above, the other was following the first's finger with a wondrous look of fascination.

     The light from A'lest was diffuse and prone to playing tricks with light and shadow, so Zander leaned closer, causing the coarse wood of the railing to crumble instantly beneath his fingers and the whole structure to sway and moan. One was a girl, her long dark hair flowing free in the night air. The other was obviously male, and something about him looked almost familiar. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. Suddenly, Zander realized, whoever they were, they did not know about the danger they were in.