The Boy and the Animal

Part I | Twenty-Four

When Dark woke with the sun, he felt like his eyes were mutinying against him from the broken sleep, but he rose and snuffed out the fire he'd kept alive throughout the night. It was time to go, and there was no time to waste.

Looking up, Dark could see that the sky framed by the peaks of the towering trees already had a long streak of blue running across it toward the black draining from the horizon. Hints of a proper dawn hung on the edges of the rising sun and gleamed on the fresh dew forming on the grass and leaves. It was cool, but there was no breeze. All was quiet.

And that made it the perfect time to head off. If they were going to head to Enicrih's shrine, then the journey ahead would be riddled with peril and tumultuous landscape. They needed to get there before the harsh winter weather became yet another obstacle.  The sooner they made it through the bush and wilderness, the better.

First things first, however, he had to wake up the only one between them who actually knew where they were going.

That thought in mind, Dark turned toward the boy still snoring  and mewing softly on the ground beside where he had been sleeping moments ago. He smirked. The wild thing always seemed so peaceful and small when he was asleep. If he didn't kick so much in his sleep or give him so many bruises from it, he would've believed that roughness went to sleep with him.

The man knelt down beside him and reached his hand out. It stopped, hovering over him, and for a moment a tear of sweat fell down the side of his face. He swallowed. His chest began to tingle with a numbness like narrowly escaping death, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The fact that the fluttering was actually pleasant was the most worrisome of the feelings.

What... Was he waiting for?

Suddenly, it was difficult to wake him. The way the morning light sunk onto him, bathed him in an almost sparkling light, it put a lump in his throat. It was strange. Jesiter wasn't beautiful by really any standard. He was rough, and his face was just the plain face of a young boy; his skin was tanned from being outside for so long in the blazing sun- his skin was covered in bruises.

Jesiter snored too loud to be very ladylike. He smelled, and when you put him anywhere near water he screamed and complained like a cat. His words were childish and harsh, and he made no attempt to filter them. Honestly, he hated how he was so ready to snuggle and touch him as if he liked him or welcomed it. The kid was too friendly, and then he wasn't friendly enough.

Dark had never in his life met anyone so infuriating and confusing in his life. No, he didn't blame him anymore for what had happened, but that didn't mean he was going to lie down and treat him like some ethereal creature. If he was honest, he couldn't stand the creature. He was neither cute nor kind- nothing remotely close to his type.

He'd always imagined himself with a prim and proper lady, one who carried themselves well, took care of their hygiene and beauty, and had a strong mind for business. When he imagined his future, it was of him, his quiet and sensible wife, and their single adroit child who would inherit the inn. So, why was he hesitating like this?

Under the gentle morning light, Jesiter looked like every angel that Dark had ever dreamed of. His eyes were so tentatively closed, as if the slightest shift in the wind would open them, and his mouth was part just ever-so-slightly. And Dark couldn't hate him. And all those imperfections seemed unique and charming. And he was caught.

The crack of a twig off in the distance, however, reminded him of their timely situation. Shaking his head of his thoughts and the tingle in his chest, he cleared his throat and brushed the boy's long bangs from his face; one of these days, he thought, he would need a haircut, maybe comb it a bit.

"Hey, Jessy. Wake up. We have to go now," he whispered to the boy.

Jesiter stirred, eyes fluttering open. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the boy gave a wide yawn and sat up from his bed of leaves. When his eyes fell on the man who'd woken him, a smile curled on his lips, and Dark felt that tingle again.

"Morning, Darky," the boy greeted him.

"Good morning," he replied without really thinking. He swallowed and helped the teen up onto his feet. "We have to keep moving, but I need you to help me, okay?" Jesiter nodded. "I need you to take us to where you came from."

"Home? Castle?" Jesiter questioned him, cocking his head to the side. Dark tried to piece his words together, finding the closest thing to his knowledge of a castle to be either the city or his inn. He shook his head.

"No, before that. Before the inn, and before you met... Cyrus," he explained. The boy looked down at his toes, thinking back more than a year ago. He looked up at him.

"Before Cyrus. Scary place," he muttered.

"Yes," Dark said, staring him straight in his eyes as if trying to convey his words beyond their sound- the meanings directly into him, "take me to the scary place."

Dark could see in those sleepy brown eyes a twinge of fear, reluctance for the task that was asked of him, but, despite this, the boy nodded again and peered around the woods that surrounded them. He seemed to know what the man was asking, and he hoped he did, as their fugitive status would make it difficult to head to towns or travel the main roads for directions.

Then, Jesiter turned and began walking. Dark followed.

From those first steps, it would be the beginning of the journey to Enicrih's shrine, to Jesiter's origin, and their final chapter. Dark knew this. What waited for them at the end terrified him- the thoughts of what extent his bloodline connected to his destiny. When Jesiter was given back to Enicrih...

What would happen to him?

"Darky dumb feet," Jesiter grumbled. Dark snapped out of his thoughts with a twitch of his brow.

"Stop being so rude!" Dark retorted, catching up to him. "And speak properly. Gods, did Cyrus teach you anything?"

"Cyrus teach Jessy Dark like feminine," the boy replied.

"It's 'Cyrus taught me that Dark is like a- h-hey," the man corrected him. Jesiter giggled.

"Okay. Darky okay. Smell nice," he chirped.

The tingle came back, and, for a moment, Dark smiled.

The journey, not the destination... Right?