Goddess Of Ashes and Sun

CHAPTER FOUR (Titus)

The locals knew about Chester, but they did not know how or where to find him. Of course. These things are never as easy as it sounds. Not like it sounded easy in the first place, but whatever, not like I'm pissed or anything. Gods are such assholes.

Amond, List, and I were camped out just outside Skógarhið. Tomorrow, if we didn't find Chester, we'd continue to Centre City.

I was uncomfortably hot, but I didn't dare remove my cloak. I couldn't risk the chance that a passer-by would see my hair or tattoos. Blue hair doesn't exactly scream normal. But that's just the world we live in now. The hàlf-kyn of gods are hunted for various reasons. Mainly to be killed.

I sighed, and leaned my head against the tree I was sitting next to. I didn't want to be here, I wanted to be in Aðal city, I wanted to kill the fils de pute who has caused my people so much pain and fear. But I can't. I'd be killed before I could even make it to the Aðal territory. And I can't disobey my Elder. My Elder and Traveller are the reason I'm alive, and to disobey them, despite the appeal, would be to spit in their faces for risking their lives to raise me. So, instead, I was here, on a mission for the stuck up god of love.

    "Couldn't we find an inn?" Amond said tiredly. "I would kill for a bowl of hot stew right now."

List sighed through his nose and pulled his hood over his eyes. Of course, he did. He was never much help. Too busy being moody.

    "Well Amond," I started in an annoyed tone, "You can find us an inn. We'll wait here till you do." I love Amond, but man he's irritating when he's hangry.

    "Fine. I will," he said, crossing his arms and stomping off in the direction of the village.

    'Let's hope he doesn't get himself or us killed,' List signed.

    "Yeah, that isn't ideal. I hope it's true that 'He's smarter than he seems,' otherwise we might be screwed."

    'You're not very funny Titus. What happened?'

    "I don't know, how about everything that happened to me after my third birthday?" I snapped.

He raised his eyebrows as if to say, 'You're one to complain.'

I took the hint and stopped talking.  I didn't want to though. I wanted to ask why he had to withdraw so much, why he has to torture himself so much. But he'd just get mad and withdraw even more if that's even possible. The only one who could get through to him was Trav. But he's not here. For all we know, he's dead in a ditch somewhere.

Screw it.

"List? Can you not?"

He frowned, clearly confused. 'Not what?'

    "I know I'm being a bit insensitive right now, but what is it this time?"

He raised his eyebrows and rolled his pale eyes. 'I hate you.'

    "Don't care. Trav's not here and Clydes not doing shit so imma do it now. So, what is it this time?"

He turned his face away but I stood up from my tree, marched over, and sat down in front of him. I grabbed one of his gloved hands and began to pull the glove off.

He protested at first but I persisted and pulled the glove off, tossing it aside.

    "Oh." I stared down in shock at the crisp burnt skin underneath. From his fingertips to his elbows, the skin was burnt. Along his wrists the flesh was so burnt away that I could see some of the bone.

    "You need to get this healed, you can't-"

He pressed his free hand against my mouth to get me to shut up.