The Call

Chapter 2

Night soon found me cold and weary. The warmer temperature of the afternoon had slowly faded with the sunlight, leaving me wishing I had brought a thicker coat. Fortunately the bits of bread I had snagged on my way out had satiated my stomach, but now I needed the comfort of a warm bed.

The route I had taken led to a small town by the name of Grove Downs. The majority of the buildings were businesses that doubled as the proprietor's homes and the streets were nearly devoid of life save for a stray dog and a coughing man leading a donkey.

The memories couldn't help but flood in. Long trips to the city market usually resulted in a stop at the inn here. The sounds of my father's boastful stories to the group of gathered men were so clear I could swear he was here. My feet moved toward it's entrance on their own.

It was nothing to write home about, a simple wood structure, sturdy but bare. The orange glow emanating from the doors and windows and the gentle murmur of chatter from inside gave it a feeling of welcoming coziness. Against The Call's pull onward I entered the inn.

Equally as empty as the streets save for two tables of chattering men and the pudgy bartender, I felt a bit of relief. I did not know how many other called had come and worried if there would even be room available.

"I'd like a room for the night, please." I sighed, slumping into the bar stool and dropping a bit of coin onto the counter.

"Course."The bartender put down the glass he had been cleaning as he peered over almost comically small glasses, counting the coin. After placing them in a small pouch he finally turned his gaze towards me, squinting as he did.

"You're a familiar one."

"Aye, my father and I used to stop here on our way to market."

"Good Gods! You're Henryk's boy aren't you?" He clapped his hand together and a smile spread wide across his face, "How is the old bull-stop these days?"
"Too old to work and too stubborn not to, if you asked my mother."

His laugh shook his belly and he gave the bar top a good slap. "Well I'm glad to see he's as busy as ever. Used to do a lot of good for folks, y'know! Any problem needed solving he'd be the one you called."

"Oh trust me, sir. If there's a story about my dad he's told it a hundred times in a hundred different ways."

"Sorry, er, Carson? Here I am jabbering about your father like a swooning maid. What brings you out this ways? Taking the pork to market yourself this year?"

"Kieran, and uh," my eyes drifted down to my hands and the corners of my mouth sank. My expression did not go unnoticed and was soon matched by the barkeep.
"You've been called then?" A slow nod was my only reply.

For a breath we sat in silence, the weight of the words resting on our shoulders. With a soft grunt the keep reached into his coin purse, depositing my payment in between my resting hands.

"Rooms on the house, lad. It's a terrible thing what's happened to you. S'how my great-great-granda went."

The tears welled in my eyes, threatening to roll down my cheeks at any moment. A shaky thank you was all I could muster.

Getting up from the stool my shoulders carried an extra weight to them. Exhaustion and dread hung on me like the clothes on my back as I ascended the stairs to the room.

In a trance I entered the mostly barren room, shuffled from my clothes, and laid on the nearby bed. When sleep took me I could not say, but once again I found myself deep in a wild dream.

Eyes, none human floated in the dark. Hawk, fox, frog, all manner of beasts stared intently at me. Watching. Waiting. In the distance of the abyss was a light, and tentatively I stepped towards it, The eyes followed, seeming to close in. Though no face was there to give an indication, I could not shake the feeling of pure malice in their stares.

An intruder they silently said. Unwelcome. My pace began to quicken, and so too did the eyes move in tighter. Soon I was shoving my way through, my legs transitioning into a full on sprint as they seemed intent to trap me.

The light seemed no closer no matter my speed. My limbs felt like lead as I tried my hardest to reach it. But they had me, They closed in. They blocked the light. The air began to leave my lungs. The panic of death flared in my chest.

I awoke with a start. Cold sweat sticking my shirt to my back. The Call raged inside me, screaming for me to rest no longer. Softly the tears came as I slipped back into my boots and jacket, unable to resist the gnawing urge.

As I left the bartender gave me a curt nod and an expression of pure pity. The same one would give to a widow when you lack the words to console.

This morning was colder than the others, the sky a stark gray. A bleak start to my journey. I wanted so badly to return to the comfort of the inn, but I knew I had no choice. North to the waiting temple, and the land of Gods, was my only option. Or death. A more pleasant option by the passing minute.

I set my face and breathed deep. Whinging and whining would do me no good. And with the weakest sense of determination, I resumed my trek.

I found myself once more in the woods. The familiar sounds and sights helping to calm me further. A small tune began to form in my mind and I hummed passively as I strolled the dirt road. The trees here had yet to notice the change of the seasons and their leaves formed an arch over the path. Sunlight danced between the holes in the canopy,speckling everything in gold.

 The serenity lulled me into a sense of security that was broken almost instantly by the sounds of footsteps directly to my right. I was not alone.