Entwined

Among the Ashes

With each inch the sun creeps across the clear blue sky and with it, a cool crisped breeze offers little relief for my blistered skin, scratchy throat, and dry nose. By the time the glowing orange ball sunk behind the alpines and the stars and moon twinkled in the night sky, my beaten body is ready to be risen out of this grisly pit of charred bones and ash. Twisting and pushing my body into a sitting position with the still warm bodies and the blacken bones takes more effort than I expected. In the mines, I gotten used to the stench of sweat, feces, piss, vomit, and other stomach-churning scents, but having my first inhale of fresh air, the scent of rotting flesh and ash is causing my head to spin.

Breathing through my mouth, I climb to my feet. Luck must be on my side because the edge of the pit is chest high that even with my tight and heavy muscles, climbing out shouldn't be that much trouble.

Planting my arms on the edge of the pit, I swing my right leg up onto the blacken ledge, then I push the rest of my pummeled body onto level ground. It takes more effort the expected, though nothing is ever easy after a beating and wasting away in a flesh pit.  

A sob forces its way through that I have to bite down on my wrist to silence. Not giving myself a moment to compose myself, instead taking a quick assessment of my surroundings.

To the right, about 300 hundred feet I can see the soft glow of torches lighting the entrance to the cave. Two guards stand facing front and not watching this way. Though, I doubt they will be able to see me if I stay quiet and low. To the left is a winding footpath with torches lighting the pathway every so many feet with guards. Around the pit to the back, and down the side of the dark mountain, I see soft candlelight glows from windows from what I can only assume to be a small village.

Embarking down the side of the mountain and hiding in that village until morning is my only option. I'm not fool enough to pass that village and go to the next until I can actually see and most importantly, not look like I belong in the mines. That's asking for a one-way ticket back to that hell hole. 

Following down the winding path, but making sure to stay in the tree line and out of the glow of the torches. Scampering over tree roots, rocks, and keeping the torchlight in my peripheral view makes scrambling down the mountain a little difficult and quiet, but not impossible.

After most of the night and many trips over tangled roots and loose rocks, the first building in the grey light of the early morning comes into view. The first sounds of life begins to stir. Roosters crowing, pigs oinking, the morning dew glistening on the small vegetable garden being licked by small little critters that resembles mice, the dying crackling of small fires in hearths, and the smell of cooking bread floating in the breeze causing a grumbling in my stomach loud enough to wake the village.

The building is straight out of a fairytale. The building a rainbow that is oddly fitting for the village distanced not far away from the lone house. The trimming of the house is a flashing green and the rest of the house a bright yellow with vines climbing one face of the two story house with little flowers of pale purples, tangy oranges, and pastel reds. A basin of what looks and hoping is clean water sits below a window with 2 loafs of steaming and delicious scented yeast bread cooling in the breeze. 

My stomach resembles a monster at the heavenly sight and scent of the loaf of bread. 

Peaking between the two bushes at the tree line, my eyes do a quick assessment of my surrounding. I can hear shuffling in the house, the windows are covered with fabric to keep the cool breeze out, but no one was by the windows. The roosters and hens are in the hen pen and the pigs oinking merrily in the mud. The path to the basin and bread clear.

Laying low and creeping around the thankfully even and clear path, reaching the window is easier than I thought. Though the guilt's eating at my gut as I guzzle all the water first and ravage the first loaf in less than a minute back hidden from view behind my hiding spot in the bushes.