King of Shadows: Of Blood and Tears

Chapter 21: Peace and Chaos II

The sun was radiant, causing sweat to drizzle off all of their brows, intoxicating them with the misery of heat.

The road was lonely and had seen little traffic in the last few years because of bandits and Goblin patrols. Dorris knew it was a dangerous road, but the other paths in consideration seemed out of the way, and full of monsters he did not want to be introduced to.

The alternatives were far worse, with werewolves stalking from within the shadows of trees, and Harpies ambushing from the skies above. A pack of wild goblins seemed almost harmless compared to the alternatives.

"What is that stench? Dorris, hold your mud, you cretin." Shayne said, waving the stink away from his face.

"It was not me, you blonde haired sausage. It was me, beautiful beast!" Dorris ran his fingers through the flowing mane of his Plitheygn and let loose a thunderous laugh.

The three tails behind the animal waved back and forth, relative to Dorris's touch. It let loose a low whistle of pleasure, and bumped her head into Shayne, as if asking for more attention.

"Does it have a name? I don't remember you mentioning it." Tim asked politely, squeezing the base of his nose.

"Ah no, never got around to it, I guess."

John remained silent, sitting next to Max, who kept stealing glances at him, trying to decipher his thoughts like a complex equation. His hand never left the hilt of his sword, and Max had thought this to be suspicious.

Maximus didn't know how to deal with John's unrelenting torment, for he was never this shelled until Findara. It was as if he was under a spell of some sort, and not a good one. More like a curse than anything else. But what? Max's love for his friends, especially John, was fierce, possibly running deeper than the bonds between the world and its gravitational pull; so what was he to do? He had already lost one good friend, and he wasn't too comfortable with the thought of losing another, especially by his own hands.

"I got the perfect name for your farting beast! Charlotte seems perfect!" Shayne looked at Tim and held a laugh.

"Charlotte ... ah yes, seems like a perfect name for ye' girl, doesn't it?" The Plitheygn stood on its hind legs and gave out a glorious roar, revealing its mouth of yellowed molars, waking all the mice and squirrels in the nearby trees.

"No, no. We need something better. Charlotte sounds like a silly A.I. name. Lets go with Issabelle, the most beautiful of all Plitheygn." Sammy called out, bowing down to the beast as it went about licking its cracked hooves.

As they continued down the path, their laughter became infectious.

Two days had passed, and the conversation was at a minimum. The group embraced the intimidating beauty surrounding them.

Flowers of all colors, crops being grown by small nearby villages, trees of black and brown and gray growing deep into the ground.

Their leaves were light green and silver, sprinkled all around the road and tall grasses. But even with elegance comes unpleasantries. Such as the horse flies that kept biting their uncovered necks. The pests were too swift for them, but they still swatted as best they could.

Shayne even pulled his sword and tried cutting his way to freedom. Sammy teased him, of course. Tim found solace in watching Shayne's determined expression as he tried to vanquish the bothersome flies, momentarily forgetting the pain and nausea he had been experiencing since the dragon incident.

Up ahead, they could spot the serpent river, too long for a swim, and too deep for their horses. It was dark blue and far too murky for anybody to see what was swimming beneath.