CORE

Chapter X - Paranoid

The fire burst with sparks that disappeared into the sky as Acel threw another log on it. The soft light from the flickering fire seemed to breathe life into the usually dark and depressing surrounding forest. He had created a small camp next to the stone road, complete with a couple of makeshift shelters made from the plentiful branches and leaves of the forest. Zanil attempted to help make them, but he kept getting distracted by different fauna that seemed to fascinate him. He now sat in one of the shelters putting various of his plant finds into his pack as Acel sat by and tended to the fire. Openings in the shelter allowed the heat of the fire to seep into the inside and keep them warm.

Acel began to feel a great feeling of comfort as he lowered himself to sit by the fire; his rapier leaning by his side. Its flames covering his cold body with a warm embrace. He did not encounter this feeling often, his life living in the woods was a life of cold and fear. However, whenever he could, building a fire was always able to warm him and ease his fear.

Acel remembered what his mother used to say about the warm feeling of fire. That it was the Middle God, the god of fire and emotion, reaching out from the flames to comfort his followers. 

Acel smiled a bittersweet smile as he rubbed his right middle finger; "at least I still have the gods," he said to himself.

"Amazing," Zanil's voice came from the shelter, "to think those sharp and stabby leaves could be used to create such a comfortable bed. Do you make these often in this country?"

"Only out of necessity" Acel answered. That shelter he made was easily one of the worst he had ever made, though not much better could be done with the leaves that covered this forest. It was barely fit for animals, let alone people. He was surprised anyone could find something like that comfortable.  "Do you not make shelters like this when far from town in your home country?" he asked.

"Oh, how I wish we could!" Zanil responded loudly, vibrating the shelter as if it was the one speaking, "but trees do not come commonly in the great Kharizian Desert. Which leaves the only choice to hide yourself under rocks to escape the wrath of the sun, with the company of scorpions and snakes. Then you must sleep on the sand floor, oh Shahir the sand! It's coarse, rough, and it gets everywhere. I would have given anything to have these leaves over that accursed sand..." Zanil started to ramble.

Zanil always spoke a great deal more when it was about his home country. It was clear that even when complaining about it, he still longs for his home. 

Acel stood up from his seat by the fire and cut off Zanil's rant off, "I think it's best if we get to sleep now; the sooner we rest the sooner we can get out of here."

"Yes...yes that's a good idea," said Zanil as he fell quiet.

Snuffing the fire down to a more stable smolder to prevent their camp from going up in flames; Acel entered his shelter and laid on the makeshift bed of leaves. Clutching his rapier close, his hand on the handle, he slowly closed his eyes. 

With his mind thinking of the great trek of the road ahead and all he had just gone through, he began to feel the sweet embrace of sleep fall upon him. Before he knew it, he had fallen into a deep sleep.

***

Slowly, Acel began to stir around in his shelter. He could tell that time had passed, but not by exactly how long. He tried to rise from the bed of leaves however his body did not seem to want to cooperate; unmoving from it's sleeping position. His eyes remained shut, like a groggy child unwilling to get up and work. He felt like a statue, unmoving, even his hand was still clutched to his rapier. Yet he felt in bliss, for the first time in a long time.