Ashes of Revenge

Colt pulled out a stolen bottle of alcohol and took a big swig of it, almost immediately spitting it onto the ground. The salty drink burned his tongue, and the small amount that he had swallowed was trying to come back up. It saddened Colt to think that alcohol was making him sick. After all this time in the Kingdom and he still hadn’t fully adjusted!

Colt handed it to Raven as he coughed more. She took a large drink of the beverage as Colt and Richard watched on in slight horror. Raven began to cough and faintly gag at the horrible taste.

Richard reluctantly grabbed the Birra, not wanting to drink it but also wanting to calm his nerves. He took a small sip before he spat onto the ground. He coughed at the bitterness, and it took every ounce of energy he had to not vomit all over his horse. He violently shoved the drink in Raven’s bag.

“When we get to the next village, I need to look at yer hand an’ shoulder,” Richard said, his voice rougher from the Birra.

Raven sighed as a response.

Everyone rode to where Raven was. There was no reason to do a supply check, it was a poor village, and while it was mainly a farm one, the food was either too gross or rotten to be consumed. There was no time for a supply check.

The men were all Farians, much like Richard. Colt was the only Shifter, and Raven was the only Mundus. The group’s entire existence was a liability, and if more Knights came and managed to capture any of them, they would be tortured and killed.

Raven counted the men and was relieved to find the same number they had started out with: six. “Oll right, move out!” she yelled as she turned Herbert around and spurred him forward. Richard and Colt caught up to her.

Raven pulled out the map and placed it on the back of Herbert’s neck. She studied it as she crossed her legs on top of the saddle. This would be how they traveled, walking and running to make sure they were going to the correct place.

Colt’s blades on the top of his hands extended, and he began to slowly rub them together, ‘sharpening’ them despite them never becoming dull.

Richard’s wings appeared. He propped them up on the back of his horse and leaned against them. Breathing in deeply, he relaxed, knowing the peace wouldn’t last long.

A few seconds of silence passed between the three.

Despite knowing the speed would increase, Colt still voiced his thoughts, “I’m bored.”

***

Rain violently thudded against everything and everyone.

Richard was using his wings as a shelter of sorts to protect the map from the water.

Raven’s hood was over her head with the piece of cloth that covered her nose and mouth hooked into place. One hand was shielding her eyes, and the other one was holding onto the reins with all of her strength.

Colt’s mouthpiece and hood were on as well. His free hand mimicked Raven in an attempt to protect his eyes.

“How far away are we?!” Raven yelled to Richard, who could barely hear her over the thudding rain and whistling wind.

“A few more miles!” Richard shouted as he quickly shoved the map back behind the safety of his wings.

Lightning struck near them, and a deafening bang followed shortly after.

Raven quickly grabbed the reins with both her hands and pulled back before Herbert had a chance to bolt. Richard did the same, but Colt wasn’t so fortunate. His horse bucked and took off in a full sprint, sending Colt tumbling to the black mud with a hard thud. He slowly got up as he groaned loudly, the pain already making quick work of spreading throughout his body.

Colt’s sides were hurting, his back sore, and his muscles screaming in protest. He froze for a second, the ache becoming too similar to the beatings he endured when younger. For a terrible, agonizing second, he was back in his old Kingdom with blood that wasn’t all his coating his body.

He didn’t want to fight anymore!

He didn’t want to kill anymore!

He didn’t-

BANG! Thunder screamed throughout the air, making Colt jump back. Everyone controlled the horses once more.

Raven reached down her left hand for Colt. He grabbed her arm, aware of the fresh burns, and jumped up, managing to land on the back of Herbert. He held out his arms and allowed the rain to wipe off the black mud. His horse was nowhere in sight; he sighed internally and groaned. Granted, the horse had never been his favorite, but it fulfilled its duty of taking him places . . . or so he had thought!

Swallowing, Colt hugged his body, his fingers running against the metal lines over his ribs on his over-shirt. Over and over and over again, he told himself that no blood was on him. The liquid coating his body was simply water.

After Herbert made a few more steps, Raven and Colt suddenly felt a tug. Colt opened his eyes and looked down with Raven. Herbert was stuck in shin-deep mud.

Colt quickly held up his hand in the shape of a fist, and everyone stopped. He hopped down and sunk into the mud, groaning again in pain.

Raven kicked Herbert’s sides, and he tried to move but couldn’t. In fear, Herbert began to whine and shake while trying to buck; luckily, the mud kept him from doing so.

Raven quickly hopped off, landing in the shin-deep mud. She pried her foot free, somehow keeping her boot on. She continued to walk ever so slowly to the front of Herbert. Colt doing the same.

Richard and the rest of the men began to find a way over the thick and huge mud puddle.

Raven grabbed the reins and steadied her horse. Colt squatted down and began to shovel the mud to the side of Herbert’s hoofs.

A screeching sound echoed throughout the air. Raven looked around, remembering that they were in the Monstro Kingdom at night, more than doubling the danger. Her eyes fell upon a multitude of shining lights close to the ground: eyes.

The group was being hunted, and the only reasons they weren’t being attacked was because they were moving and in a group.

Raven looked back at the still stuck Herbert, who nudged his nose against his owner. She looked back out into the barely visible forest and saw that the eyes were closer. She would rather fight the Monstros than leave Herbert for them, and with each passing second, that became more of a probability.

Suddenly, one of Herbert’s legs came free, and he lunged forward. He tried to run, but Raven managed to stop him.

Colt trudged forward, now noticing the sounds and sights of the Monstros. With the new soreness, he didn’t know how well he could fight the creatures, and he didn’t want to find out. He climbed on top of Herbert and scooted back before Raven climbed up. She slapped the reins against him, and they began to move once more.

In no time, they were at the head of the group again.

Colt looked to the side and saw Richard point them to the right. He tapped Raven’s right arm, and she turned in that direction.

After a few more minutes of annoyingly dangerous rain and Monstros, they finally saw the most heavenly sight they had ever laid their eyes on: the village.

Raven raised both her hands and pointed in separate directions, telling the men to split up. Richard, Colt, and Raven were one group. The men divided themselves into two congregations.

Richard tucked the map away, and they all began to look for a pub. As they looked, they saw more and more Monstros creeping in and out of the darkness.

Herbert bucked his head up and down, sensing the creatures around him. Raven nudged him forward with some amount of urgency. She remembered watching the fights from her window in the other village, and the last thing she wanted was to be a part of one.

Relief washed over them when they spotted a rundown pub with barred stables for the horses.

Locking the horses inside, they grabbed the handle for the pub and pried it open. Raven slipped in first and began to pull the door, her boots slipping on the wood due to the storm trying to slam it shut. Next, Colt came in, and then finally Richard, his wings already gone.

They let go of the door, and it slammed shut. Thankfully, the barman was the only person there.

The pub’s interior was a grey, worn wood with black lines running through it, reminding Raven of veins or as if lightning had struck everything. The floor had some black mud, grey water, and dead grass coating it. Empty tables and chairs were scattered throughout the room. The air was a thick musty type that made the group scrunch up their noses in distaste and hold their breaths as the Birra tried to make a reappearance.

They all walked to the counter, and the barman looked at them with tired eyes.

“Room,” Richard said.

“Drink,” Raven begged.

“Food,” Colt pleaded.

The barman looked over the group and saw the tip of the black marking on Richard’s hand. He sighed before he turned around, grabbed an iron key, and roughly shoved it into the Farian’s hands.

Richard stared at the man as he threw down more than enough coins, knowing he would be overcharged for his mistake of not covering his markings fully. Leaving behind some of the last of his money, he walked up the wooden stairs to the second floor.

The barman looked at Raven before he turned around and began to prepare the drinks. Two extra arms extended from his back, and he grabbed three pints as he filled them up all at once. He slid them back to Raven, who tossed coins onto the counter before somehow managing to pick all the pints and walk upstairs without spilling a drop.

Colt watched as all four arms grabbed various food items and piled them on top of one another. The Monstro slid the wooden plates to Colt.

Colt tossed the livre onto the counter, grabbed the plates, and walked upstairs. He entered the room with the open door and saw that Richard and Raven were already situated. He used his foot to close the door before he placed the plates onto a small table in the corner of the room, where all three drinks were.

Richard and Raven had already taken off their extra articles of clothing, only leaving on their pants and undershirts. Colt did the same, relieved to finally get his heavy and soaking wet clothes off.

Colt and Raven slowly and painfully sat down in table’s chairs, sore from the days’ events. They began to pick at their food and sip the Birra.

The alcohol was bitter against Raven’s tongue and throat, but she welcomed the almost pleasing pain. She would almost go as far as to say that the Birra was worse than the bottle they had grabbed in the last village. The food was horrifically bad and looked as if it had just been killed and skinned seconds before it was given to them. But alcohol was alcohol, and almost inedible food was still food.

Without warning, Richard took off Raven’s glove. She cursed and hissed in pain, the air stinging the wound. Richard observed the hand before he gave it to Colt.

Colt sighed as a knife extended from his pointer finger, the silver line tucked under his nail. He began to remove all the dead tissue and skin that had formed.

“Can we not? We are eatin’,” Raven tiredly begged.

“It’s called multitaskin’,” Richard mumbled. He pulled down part of Raven’s shirt, revealing her right shoulder with an arrow wound in it. He tore a small piece of his shirt off and handed part of it to Colt. He watched as Raven leaned her head back, and he could feel the rolling of her eyes. He knew she hated being waited on.

“Done,” Colt said as he wrapped her hand with a cloth. He shoved the glove on her hand, earning his own personalized curses.

Richard gently tied the fabric around the wound before he roughly pulled it into place.

Raven jumped in pain. “Bloody-”

“Ok, yeh should be fine, but let’s hope it doesn’t get infected.” Richard finally took his seat at the table and began to drink the beverage. Though he needed and welcomed it, he coughed and gagged a few times at how bitter it was.

Farians had very acute tastebuds, and they gravitated towards sweet things. The bitterness was almost too much for Richard to stand. Why couldn’t this Kingdom just have something sweet?!

Raven and Colt glanced at him as the smallest hints of amusement spread across their faces. Watching Richard try new food was always a weirdly entertaining experience for the two.

Once he calmed down, Richard reluctantly began to pick at his food.

They were all too tired to create a conversation.

After a few minutes, they couldn’t stomach eating or drinking anymore. They just wanted to sleep in the no doubt uncomfortable bed.

Turning to the mattress, they almost cursed. It was small and looked like it would barely fit one person.

“I’ll sleep on tha floor,” Richard volunteered.

“No, yeh won’t,” Raven said. “I will.”

“Nope, yer injured. Tha last thing yeh need is to wake up sore,” Richard mumbled.

“I’ll sleep on tha floor,” Colt said.

“I have wings. Those at least give me paddin’ and a blanket of some sort.”

“I’m not goin’ to allow yeh to sleep on tha floor again,” Raven said.

“I’m tha best one to do it. Yer hurt, and Colt was thrown from his horse. I’m sleepin’ on tha floor, end of discussion.”

Colt and Raven hesitantly sat down on the stiff, dirty bed as Richard’s wings expanded. He laid down on the ground, using one as a cushion and the other as a blanket.

The two slowly leaned back, having to turn sideways in order to fit. Their bodies tensed as they touched one another.

“If yeh stab me, I will kill yeh,” Raven grumbled.

“Now I’m tempted,” Colt mumbled.

“Noooo!” Richard miserably groaned. “It’s too late for this, go to sleep before I kill both of yeh.” The two fell into silence, knowing not to tick off a cranky Richard.

Raven didn’t want to sleep. She hated sleeping. It was never peaceful for her, and it always ended in her having the same nightmare. However, she couldn’t deny that she was exhausted.

Un-tensing, she closed her eyes, drifting off into terror.

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