'You want to come down, any time soon?' Thorin asked.
Bathe didn't reply; he must be angry. It was a beautiful cycle between those two souls. In the past, even after doing the exact opposite of what Thorin asked him for, and then after facing his anger, he would go silent. Like he was the one who should have been angry instead of Thorin. A little effort from Thorin would be needed then to cheer him back.
Thorin waited for a moment for an answer.
'Who wants to help me with the 'sword of hell'? Huh.'
It always seemed appealing to Bathe and he couldn't resist breaking his silence.
'I will,' he said and came down sprinting to the axe of Thorin left on the ground earlier. He took the heavy axe and tried to raise it properly.
'You are getting stronger than me,' Thorin chuckled, coming close to the little bundle of woods and kissed Bathe's forehead. Bathe had forgotten all his anger and smiled huge revealing all his tiny teeth.
'Come on, let's decide what we eat today,' Thorin yelled like he was coming victorious from some kind of war and was ordering his troops to loot. They dragged everything and entered the hut.
Small and big huts, some having more wood than the others, stood randomly over the carefree Asyut-elm village land. There was no pattern of houses built around Bathe's hut. All random, built anywhere folks found suitable but with some distances to have their own Hedges. It appeared like a colony of twenty families around there and then fields of rice and wheat surrounding them from three directions.
Night came, gentle as always to this part of the world. Oil lamps flickered at the porches and inside while the widespread silence felt lone and vulnerable for those who were still on roads.
Bathe and Thorin were on the bed after having a dinner of boiled rice and chopped vegetables. Bathe hated that food, especially that particular combination of vegetables and rice. But couldn't complain and let father pour his vast knowledge of food and good habits again, like a couple of days back when father's take on for healthy foods ended by midnight.
'How will you become strong and tall like me?' he would ask. And then would add more of that chopped thing in the plate. 'Oh, you are eight and four months now—you should definitely eat more.'
Bathe was thinking about today's lesson lying on his wooden bed, which had a quilt and a few covers of plain cloth sheets to make it comfortable. He wasn't sleepy and stared upon the empty roof. He felt a gentle touch of the father's hand over his hair and turned his head around. His bed was just steps away from Thorin. Almost every night he would come and sit beside Bathe's bed before sleeping. Bathe would know his presence sometimes when he wouldn't be asleep—like today.
Thorin wasn't a good storyteller but would try his best to string lines together lamely to pull out any tale for Bathe. But Tierri, living in the neighbourhood, filled that job. Only rarerly Bathe would ask the father for a tale.
'What are you thinking, Bathe?' Thorin asked, smiling. Bathe saw father's face over him.
'Nothing, father.' His eyes moved to the roof again and remained stationed there.
Thorin smiled since he knew Bathe was lying.
'You know what your grandfather used to tell me when I was young,' he looked into Bathe's eyes. Bathe's eyes finally moved away from the roof.
'He was like me—had the small farm and collected the rare woods from the forest at odd times and sell in the market. He never learned letters or numbers but had no less knowledge of life than others. He taught me things important to us and to whom we love, to stick with it and to set aside the forbidden.'
Bathe looked over father, whose voice contained gravity. He wanted to pass on the lessons to Bathe that he once learned from his father.
'This world is not a place to wander. The endless forests contain misery. Like a bad omen waiting for men to gulp. He used to say in nights like these—never try to see deep inside them; spells of witches curses the lands inside that green-black territory. Anyone who came near them or wandered for them fell under their spells to lose themselves forever.' Bathe eyes looked more curious.
'Who put the curse there, father?' Bathe replied in a hurry.
Thorin cast a checking look upon him to remind him immediately, that he was talking to the same person who would never speak of what lied in the forests and anything beyond the boundary of this village. Bathe eyes went down in sudden. Thorin sighed and petted his hair with gentle fingers.
'There are places that mustn't be named. They are far, but they reach to those who wander for them. There were thousands before and must be still many more, eager to see what lies beyond the forests. But those who walked inside the wild never returned.' Bathe closed his eyes, hopeless. He had heard it hundreds of times from father—'those who crossed the dark territory never returned. Darkness preyed upon them.'
'Huh.' Bathe thought in disappointment. He knew father would never tell him more than the boundaries of this village. He didn't want to ask more questions now. That only increased his desire to meet Berathelmus again.
Thorin checked upon Bathe after some time—he was fast asleep. He pulled a thin sheet up to Bathe's shoulder and went back to his bed.
He took a minute to prepare his bed and rested his heavy body upon it. He was tired after a full day's work of cutting the rare wood of Lothian around the forest and then selling it in the market.
It was an odd job which he didn't like. It was against his all beliefs and eyes through which he saw the world. But his farm was small and didn't raise enough to earn sufficient coins. He had to search for other alternatives from time to time during the year, and the Lothian trees were one of them.
They were among the few rare species of plants found in Evigray, with many uses and invaluable for someone who knew even half. Traders could pay sometimes hundreds of Temus coins for them.
Thorin had been lucky this year, like a few years back. Whether it was a good fate, only time could tell, but for the time being, he had found a small group of these plants growing at least a quarter mile away from Femerild.
That much distance was safe, as only a thin sight of rising trees of Femerild was visible, because of the uphill and distance. After discovering the Lothian plants a few days back, he followed the trail for some distance more, and found more groups of the plants, but decided to stay back and keep the safe distance from Abyss forest.
Thorin should have gone asleep in a minute because of the day work but remained staring at the yellow roof in dim light. It had been a long time since he was here, in this village called Asyut-elm. He remembered his father, a tall man with large hands and feet who always reminded him of his blood, which was poor and ordinary.
That lesson remained planted deep inside his consciousness, but the coming of Bathe changed him. He wanted to earn and wanted to give Bathe whatever he needed. He wanted Bathe to stay away from hardship for as long as possible and leave plenty for him when he would take his leave, unlike his father.
Whenever his eyes didn't catch sleep in one of these darker nights; he would remember a face dear to him. His wife Irian, who, died moments before Bathe opened his eyes. He couldn't forget that dark night— its agony was far stinging than his other loses.
He had seen his mother dying of plague when he was younger than Bathe— that image of her was a blur but the hardship he had to go through to survive since then was far worse. It only ended when his father finally died after losing himself to cheap street alcohol.
Tears used to flow over Thorin's chin at times, but not now. His past couldn't haunt him now. He had Bathe and a friend in his neighbour called Ren who was more than a brother to him. This world was finally giving him moments of solace and some memories worth preserving.
His father's lessons only faded after coming of Bathe to him. Bathe was odd but brought life to his doomed world. He remembered the day when he had held him for the first time. His heart was tearing, unsure of what to do, whether to mourn for the death or cheer for a new life.
His hands were shaking but a gentle warmth soothed his inside with the first touch of Bathe. He didn't know what he felt but the gloom of morn passed over him.
Thorin couldn't afford a fortune teller of high orders, but his curiosity took him to the city, to one of the star readers, who could only tell that the boy contained a different aura around him which spread the light of life. A light that could relieve the tired and heal the burning souls. He insisted that it was nothing special and souls like Bathe weren't the rarest.
While having his thoughts lost in his past, he drifted slowly to his dreams. His eyes closed and he felt himself floating but it didn't last for long. He was dragged back from oblivion with the rise of a known shrill voice.
Bathe was singing in his sleep—he was dreaming the old-sailor again.
'O my Cesar, O my Tom
I am coming; I am coming,
You must have waited too long
But now you don't have too
O my Cesar, O my Tom
I am coming; I am coming.'
Thorin shook Bathe vigorously, waking him in no time.
'You were dreaming him again,' Thorin asked. Bathe's face was drowned in sweat and had tearing eyes which contained fear.
'Help... me. let me out... please.' Bathe whispered with all his strength in a broken voice.
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hey guys I have removed the book from Wattpad. It's available on Amazon.