The Boy and the Animal

Part I | Seven

And it did.

Two weeks to be exact.

I more or less coerced my brother into letting us stay there and tell my mother that I would be gone for a bit longer looking for a wife. It wasn't the most comfortable of situations, but I made the best of what I had.

Aesthetically, I stole sheets from Dark's closet and hung them around like a I'd seen in Indian homes, with both ornate- from the more "prominent" guest rooms- to simple draperies. A rug in the middle, with a bucket and two pillows for a table, some "borrowed" books from unsuspecting bar-goers, and the place shaped up pretty nicely.

It had to be, since I spent nearly all of my time down there. I had no choice. The boy became progressively obedient, at least enough not to dart for the door but two or three times a day, but I was the only one he would even remotely listen to. Dark? I could see the mutual hate between them. Given the chance, I knew either one would kill the other.

No, I had to spend every waking moment with him to make sure that he wouldn't escape and hurt himself or others. It wasn't too bad, though. I spent the time focusing on teaching him to be calm- both by scolding him and showing him through example. That began with structure.

Our routine was the same everyday. In the morning, my brother brought me breakfast, and we would sit a meter apart and take turns eating. There was no "wait or get nothing"; no, he didn't have an option to wait. He would wait, and when I was finished he would get his half. I managed to get him to at least sit there without attacking me after a week.

Every meal went that way, and when we weren't eating, I made sure to show him quiet activities. He was given small objects like balls of cotton and flowers to play with while I read aloud quietly in the corner to give him space. After learning that even this far apart, I would put an end to his escape, he took to ignoring the toys and glaring at me as he seethed.

Progress.

At night, I would lie down across from him and watch him until he copied me. Once he was settled, I would sing to him, and he would drift off to sleep with that angry look he wore so well- until it slipped into a peaceful lightness. I would sleep at the top of the stairs, watching him snore peacefully until the dark overtook me, as well.

I spent every waking moment with him, and, sometimes, when he wasn't awake, I headed out to do business. The most important of that business was where I could swear the gods were smiling on me. I came back to the captain, who had greeted me with a rather bit of surprise and relief.

Apparently, the two farmers that had helped me corner the boy that night had come to tell her the tale. She'd thought I had drowned when I didn't report in for a few days, but I simply explained the truth. I got sidetracked by some rather lovely, sweet farmgirls, and the boy, of course, had sadly died.

I, her most dependable and gallant mercenary, would obviously never lie to her, so I got my boy and my bounty. Of course, the bounty was halved since the target was dead, but 10,000 gold was more than enough to send my mother to make her worry less about my absence.

I wish I could have seen the look on her face when the courier delivered her that much shiny, sparkling pieces.

Not as much luck graced me in the basement, however. While his antics had slowed, the boy still stared at me with resentment and feral savagery. He didn't stop trying to escape. He didn't stop attacking me. The boy only slowed down on these behaviors because he realized they were fruitless, not because he respected me or saw what I was doing. Obedience was nothing if there was no love.

I knew that well.

I thought on him long and hard each day, what I could and should do with him to make him happy, but all I could do was show him peace. There was more to life than just surviving. There was more to life than fear. There was more to life... Than death.

Maybe I was just reading too many novels.

"Then, just before their lips met to complete their union, the windows burst and out came ten powerful assassins, each clothed by the shadows themselves," I read. I glanced over as I did so to see him poking the ball of cotton, but, noticing me spying on him, he jumped back to his haybed and growled at me. I chuckled.

I wanted desperately to believe he was getting better. And maybe he was. At that thought, after turning back to my novel, a sudden sting hit my face. I whined and touched the sensitive area with my hand to find no blood. There was, though, a rock rolling across the floor that my eyes immediately latched onto.

When I glanced over at the boy, I could see him clutching something in his hand, and he was... My heart fluttered. It was just a flash, a split second between the twitch of my pupil to the space of nonexistence, but for just the slightest evanescent moment I caught him smiling. Like a child playing jokes, he'd thrown the rock at me and smiled.

My heart pounded in my chest as a rush overcame me. There was such a joy running through me that I hadn't felt in such a long time, and the sight of his smile burned itself into my heart. It was so beautiful, so quiet and subtle and inexplicably pulchritudinous that I felt as an old hunter finally in the presence of what others demanded a myth. The unicorn. The dragon. The deity. I had witnessed an anomaly.

It faded away into a snarly growl when he spotted me, yet then I smiled. Grabbing the rock he'd thrown at me, I pretended to toss it and returned to my book. In the corner of my eye, I watched him grab for the rock in his hand and prepare to throw it at me. I dodged it the moment he threw it, and I shot my own rock directly at him.

It hit his shoulder, though with much less force than how his had hit my poor face. He recoiled in shock and stared up at me from across the room. I gave him a grin. His brows narrowed. While I returned to reading my book, I watched him lift the rock again. I snatched it in midair and shot him with it again. And again. And again and again and again. Soon, we were at rock war.

Suddenly, the door to the basement opened, and my brother peeked from behind it. The two of us froze mid-war and looked over at Dark. He gave me that exhausted look of his and shook his head.

Our meal came, and the boy and I ate together as usual, leaving the rocks alone. This time, the child didn't growl at me, and he waited, but as he waited he gave much more of a... Pout. It was childlike, and I couldn't help but smile as I ate and spoke to him.

When we ate, I told him all about the city and its people, how they interacted, about families. I knew he wouldn't respond, and I knew quite well by then that he had no idea what I was saying, but he deserved that courtesy, I thought. In his own way, maybe it was just wishful thinking, I believed he took comfort in the calm speaking.

Those two weeks passed by with the sun god dragging his heels through the mud, and when they finished, they finished with the worst day of my life.